reorganisation and destruction of irish catholic churches

Durham is obviously the flavour du jour; just back from a short trip there myself (no photography allowed in the cath, gunter, so good for you). The impact of the whole building is astonishing (by the way, the nave piers are more or less replicated in Dunfermline Abbey), but the Galilee is really intriguing
As has been pointed out (by that opinionated Teuton Pevsner, no less), why build it there at all? It’s hard against the sudden drop of the ravine, so a west entrance on any scale is impossible and you need to approach it obliquely. Perhaps all church narthexes could be regarded as galilees and given some liturgical role, provided they’re big enough (e.g. as a formal gathering-space before services, or as the location of the early part of the Easter liturgy).
Intriguing as Durham is, Newcastle is fascinating – amongst many offerings from various architectural periods it has the sombre St Nicholas Cathedral, with its crown steeple, and the gloriously restored St Mary’s Cathedral, being revealed as a Pugin gem.
(And on a non-ecclesiastical note, the Baltic just proves the adage: impressive building, shame about the exhibits, and they’ve destroyed any character the interior ever had.)

More on the Galilee Chapel at Durham:

http://books.google.com/books?id=6dB6bTQhFlgC&pg=PA213&lpg=PA213&dq=galilee+chapel&source=bl&ots=JDg9UlvTBp&sig=n78OLVVWFHXIPy-E96NbmycY8Z0&hl=en&ei=qMpkSu75KeGhjAfgusX5Dw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1

More on the Durham Galilee Chapel:

In later years two major additions were made to the cathedral of William St Carileph one of which was the GALILEE CHAPEL built by Bishop Hugh Le Puiset, who was known more affectionately as BISHOP PUDSEY (1153-1195). Pudsey�s Galilee Chapel is at the western end of the cathedral and is situated right at the top of the gorge formed by the River Wear where it is overshadowed by the cathedral�s twin towers (See photo).

The Galilee Chapel is famous as the home of the black marble-topped tomb of THE VENERABLE BEDE (673-735 A.D), who was the first historian of England. Bede lived most of his life at Jarrow near the River Tyne. His bones were brought to Durham from the ruins of Jarrow monastery in 1020 A.D. Bede�s tomb is inscribed with the following words

Hac sunt in fossa Baedae Venerabilis Ossa’

which translated means� in this tomb are of Bede the Bones�. Legend tells us that the use of the word Venerable is said to have been inspired into the mind of the writer of this poetic epitaph by an angel who told him how to complete the rhyme. The inscription dates from 1830.

The Galillee Chapel is also known as the LADY CHAPEL as it was once the only part of the cathedral that could be entered by women according to the rules of the Benedictine order of monks. A little way inside the main cathedral building we can see a line of black Frosterley Marble in the cathedral floor which marked the point beyond which women were not allowed to pass. So strict was the rule against women entering the cathedral that in 1333 when Queen Philippa, wife of Edward III crossed the line to find sleeping quarters in the cathedral, she was forced to sleep elsewhere. The Durham monks petitioned the king and insisted that she find sleeping accomodation in the castle to avoid upsetting St Cuthbert

Lady Chapels are normally constructed at the eastern end of cathedrals and not at the west so Durham is quite unusual in this respect. Initially there had been an attempt to build the Lady Chapel at the eastern end but problems with crumbling masonry forced Bishop Hugh Pudsey to transfer the building work to the west end. The building problems at the east end arose from the nature of the ground here, but legend attributes the damage to St Cuthbert who is said to have disliked the idea of a Lady Chapel so close to the site of his tomb. At a later stage another chapel called the CHAPEL OF THE NINE ALTARS was built at the cathedral�s east end – mysteriously this seems to have had no major structural problems.

Deacamps!

Thanks for that. Music is just superb. It seems that the liturgical winds of change are indeed blowing.

Praxiteles noticed that these works are being carried out at very high speed for some reason!

St Mary’s Church, Buttevant, Co. Cork

Readers will recall that a referral was made to An Bord Pleanala in the matter of a declaration issued by Cork County Council under section 5 of the Planning and Develoment Act 2000 which held that the application of some 750 square feet of double glazing to the west transept window of St. Mary’s Church, Buttevant, Co. Cork was EXEMPT development and did not compromise the character of the protected structure and consequently did not require planning permission. Fortunately, ABP has found against Cork County Council and its Heritage Department and regards the imposition of such a massive amount of double glazing as comppromising to the secial character of the rotected structure and of the element (the window) itself. Below is the relevant section of the Inspector’s Report which was accepted by the Bord:

“The remaining works relate to the installation of secondary glazing in front of
the external face of the window. In this respect I would draw the Board’s
attention to Section 10.4.1 of the DoEHLG Architectural Protection
Guidelines, which state that the design of windows and the materials used in
their construction make a significant contribution to the appearance and
special character of a structure. The church has argued that the Guidelines
recognise the benefits of providing secondary glazing. However, this referral
relates to whether or not the works would materially affect the character of the
structure, either positively or negatively, and not to the merits of the works.
Given the stain glass nature of the transept window in question, its large scale,
and prominent location in the façade fronting Main Street, I consider that the
window the subject of this referral makes a significant contribution to the
character of the church. Furthermore, I note that the Appraisal of the church in
the National Inventory of Architectural Interest (attached) states that the
retention of original features such as [interalia] the stained-glass windows add
character and charm to the building and to the town. I note from my site visit
that similar secondary glazing has been installed to the corresponding arched
windows in the southern façade and to the west window of the sacristy. I
consider that these works obscure the tracery, and have a significant impact on
the external appearance of the window. I am in agreement with the assessment
by An Taisce and the referrer’s conservation architect, Jack Coughlan, that the
proposed aluminium screening would change the character of the west transept
window. As such, I do not consider that the provisions of Section 4(1)(h)
apply to the following specified works:
• installing secondary glazing immediately in front of the window
• secondary glazing to be mounted on vertical. aluminium frames,
immediately in front of the windows, amounting to 750 square feet;
• aluminium frames to be attached to stone-work and tracery.
The planning authority’s declaration also references Section 57 (1) of the Act.
As the church is a protected structure, Section 57(1) nullifies development
otherwise exempted under Section 4(1)(h) if it would materially affect the
character of the structure or any element which contributes to the special
architectural, historical, archaeological, artistic, cultural, scientific, social or
technical interest. By the reasoning set out above, I consider that the specified
works involving the installation of secondary glazing to the window fall within
the scope of Section 57(1) of the Act, being works to a protected structure
which materially affect the character of the protected structure. Furthermore,
even if the Board considers that the works do not materially affect the
character of the building as a whole, I also consider that the west transept
window contributes to the special architectural interest of the building, and
that the proposed works materially affect the character of this element of the
protected structure. For this reason, the works in question cannot be
considered exempt development within the meaning of Section 57(1) of the Act,””

The window in question can be seen here on the left of the picture.

St Colman’s Cathedral, Cobh, Co. Cork

This photograph well illustrates the ceiling of the cathedral with its gilt bosses as well as the less welcome sight of the extent of water ingress along the South arcade.

An article by Kevin Myers in the Irish Independent of 31 July 2009. Readers will be familiar with many of the characters from the perusal of this thread.

This was a primal heresy, for churches should not be inspired by heathen citadels but by Calvary

By KEVIN MYERS

Friday July 31 2009

After all the battering that the Catholic Church has received in recent years, and all the apologies it has uttered for everything from the Inquisition to Swine Flu, the ragwort infestation and this summer’s plague of horseflies, it was rather encouraging to hear the Bishop of Galway offer a defence of anything it believes in.

On this occasion, it was the right of the Catholic Church to have the final say over what goes on in its buildings — that is, whether open coffins should be allowed to overnight in churches. Bishop Drennan says that that practice should be confined to funeral homes. In the parish of Liscannor, they beg to differ.

But the parish of Liscannor is not an autonomous, free-thinking, independent church. It is part of the Holy Roman, Catholic and Apostolic Church. To be sure, every single parishioner at Liscannor can decide to become a Methodist or a Presbyterian, and they can then go and open their own church. But the present church is owned by the diocese. That’s where the title deeds lie. And the rules of that particular church are not set by the parishioners, but by the hierarchy of the church to which as free men and women they have given their loyalty. They can put that loyalty in their pockets and walk away. But the church remains the property of the bishop, and it will be inherited by his successor, who — as it happens — will probably be a Zambian or an Ibo.

The issue here isn’t whether open coffins should be tolerated in a church (when did we in Ireland start using the word “casket”?). The issue is whether we have forgotten what the Catholic Church is. We apparently have. And the people who started that process were in the upper reaches of the Catholic Church itself, a generation and more ago, when it decided to “modernise” itself.

The abandonment of the old liturgy happened universally — and catastrophically, as a result of Vatican II. However, the construction of a plague of ugly buildings — which abandoned the ancient cruciform style of architecture, which you can see in Glendalough, Gougane Barra and the Skelligs — was almost uniquely Irish, and was far more deadly.

Traditional church-building embodied purpose. Form followed function. The cross-shape was not merely an architectural image of the gibbet of Calvary: it was a statement of authority. For at the top stood the priest, with the altar resting in the position where the head of Jesus lay on the original cross.

The Catholic Church is not a democracy: and the churches it built reflected that hierarchical, hieratic truth: until the 1960s, that is, and the dawn of the ecclesiastical wigwam.

The inspiration for this tragedy was the finest Irish architect of the 20th century — Liam McCormick. He was a genius: but his talents were misplaced. He should have been designing secular buildings, and not corrupting ecclesiastical architectural traditions which are as old as Christianity. For McCormick’s churches deliberately echoed the pre-Christian era, which was what St Patrick and the early fathers had striven to banish. Thus his first great commission, St Aengus’ Church, Burt, in Donegal, was inspired by the Grianán of Aileach, a Bronze Age fort.

That was a primal heresy, for churches should not be inspired by heathen citadels, but by the cross of Calvary. Forget that and soon you will forget everything. His next famous commission, St Michael’s Church in Creeslough, was even worse; looking like a block of concrete set in a bog, it was intended to reflect Table Mountain nearby. Sorry, wrong hilltop: did Liam McCormick ever think about Golgotha as inspiration?

Not merely did McCormick become internationally acclaimed, but across Ireland a blight of copycat churches soon spread: a franchise of hideously tacky Little Macs, usually built to replace churches which had been raised after the Penal Days. Despite two centuries of oppression, our forefathers back then had known how to make churches. But by the 1960s and ’70s, the Catholic Church had completely forgotten. It also introduced mumbo-jumbo “folk-masses”, with spotty girls with guitars singing “Kumbaya” — and hello, an ecumenical dance troupe of Buddhists, Presbyterians and atheists will now entertain us during the Consecration with their interpretation of the birth of the Lord Krishna.

Is it surprising that once the official Catholic Church forgot its central purpose, its adherents grew a little woolly about that purpose also? When doctors forget the Hippocratic oath, the patients are unlikely then to remember it.

Then the bishops woke up one morning, and dumbfounded, they saw the President taking Anglican communion, as if it were exactly the same as that of the Roman Catholic Church. Worse, when they complained, almost no-one understood their gripe. Decades of moral equivalence had obliterated the core belief that the Eucharist, being literally the body and blood of Jesus Christ, was the defining element of Roman Catholicism.

It’s no wonder that some people today don’t know the difference between churches and funeral homes. Why, not so long ago, the Catholic Church didn’t know the inspirational difference between the Cross of Calvary and a Neolithic stockade.

kmyers@independent.ie

– KEVIN MYERS

Abbey Church of Saint-Savin-sur-Gartempeto the east of Poitiers

French prototypes for the mid 19th century neo Gothic revival:

Prax: it’s a splendid pile (but note the seigneurial-looking abbey buildings, hence the Revolution), but the spire is very, well, English – reminiscent of a parish church in the Midlands?

Enjoyed Kevin Myres’s rant, but ‘…the Eucharist, being literally (sic) the body and blood of Jesus Christ’ is just bad theology and his contention that all true Christian churches were cruciform is just plain wrong. (Most pre-1829 churches were rectangular or T-shaped.) No arguments from me about the thrust of his atricle, though.