Sun and shadows
Some architecture only looks really good in the sun. That’s true, in my opinion, of this building, the Catholic church of St Francis Xavier, in the middle of Hereford’s Broad Street. When I first saw it, drizzle was closing in and I didn’t feel inclined to linger and look at it. My mind pigeon-holed it away as a rather grandiose bit of early-19th century neoclassicism, trying hard to assert itself over the surrounding buildings, which fence it in. And there was another thing which seemed odd to me about it. The fact that there were only two Doric columns on such a big building seemed somehow strange, as did the paucity of fine detail: just flutes, triglyphs, and a bit of moulding. There was something about this that gave the impression of a small building that had been put under a magnifying glass. All this passed through my mind in a second or two as I passed by the building, without giving it much more thought. The other day when I found myself in this street again, the sun was out and the facade made a completely different impression. The sun lit up the mouldings and flutes, creating tonal contrast and casting shadows that gave a much better impression of their modelling. It also brought out the facade’s rich cream colour. There was something to engage me, after all.
When I got home, I looked the church up in Pevsner, and found that the architectural guide was illuminating about the building. It was designed by Charles Day and built in 1837–39, making it just Victorian. The design of the facade was based on the Treasury of the Athenians at Delphi, but the church is taller and the proportions are narrower than those of the ancient Greek building. The architect also intended there to be a pair of short towers, which presumably never got built. Pevsner also told me that Pugin, who was exercised particularly by churches, Catholic churches above all, hated it. He called it ‘a pagan temple’ and ‘a Catholic concert hall’. Only Gothic would do for Pugin. Much as I love Gothic, I don’t share the great Pugin’s doctrinaire views, but on that rainy day I’d have nodded in at least half-agreement with him. Now I’ve seen the church in the sun, I’m inclined to moderate my view. It’s amazing what a bit of tonal contrast will do.
2 comments:
Ahhh Philip,
nothing looks good in the rain and the cold. Not clothes, not sport and certainly not architecture.
If it was to be based on the ancient Greek building you mentioned, whether or not the towers were actually built, Pevsner was muddled. A pagan temple? possibly.. but anything Catholic? never! In any case, the building is tall but not wide, so there could never have been more than two Doric columns along the front.
Hels: It takes a Turner (Rain, Steam and Speed) to make anything look good in the rain! Unless it's a Rousseau tropical storm...
It was Pugin who called it those things (pagan temple, Catholic concert hall) and I think in the latter case he was being rhetorical, He didn't really think it LOOKED Catholic – it represented a contradiction to him: for him 'concert hall' and 'Catholic' didn't go together: he was calling it a chimaera.
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