Hey all,
New church for you. I'd hoped to have this up earlier, but the Project leads a chaotic life.
Enjoy!
Monday, April 27, 2009
Transfiguration of Our Lord: Live
A great item from a couple of Project readers, Terry Callen and Tom Dewees. They alerted me to a Michigan photographer who ventured to our neck of the woods last year to take some shots (interiors included!) of the former Transfiguration of Our Lord parish on Cedar Avenue.
Our experiences with the Long Goodbye have so far been limited to exteriors, because the Project doesn't have the time and energy to track down the current owners of these properties to try to gain access. And, because as bold as I am, breaking into abandoned churches in depressed areas isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
There's no information as to whether the unnamed photographer in question did the former or the latter, but it's great to have these shots. Some immediate thoughts:
The creepiness. There is nothing scarier than any abandoned property, churches included, and some of the images here are high on the freaky factor. The shots involving the lower church doors with the cross-shaped windows, in particular, will haunt my nightmares.
The architecture. Not much left, obviously, and what's there is pretty ragged. But Transfiguration strikes me as the rare unique church. What I mean is that most Philly churches resemble each other to some extent. Minor variations aside, you tend to see the same elements and same architectural styles: Gothic, Renaissance, Romanesque, etc. The best churches, though, are those that are so distinct that there's nothing else like them around; churches like St. Francis de Sales or Our Lady of Hope. There are still some signs of that in Transfiguration--the imposing marble columns that frame the apse, the intricate tile mosaic molding, and the intricately carved and scripted tympanums.
The water damage. Some of the worst we've seen, including Our Lady of Hope and Bryn Athyn. To be honest, there's no way to know how much of this has occurred in the nine years or so since the parish closed. Still, if it was anything like it is now, it might explain why the Archdiocese closed this building and put the consolidated St. Cyprian in St. Carthage's building. (Not that Carthage / Cyprian is much better off in that regard.) It doesn't excuse the Archdiocese's decision, in the Project's eyes, but it does make it a little more understandable.
Impossibly sad, yes, but also a crucial reminder that any parish can suffer such an inglorious fate. Think yours is immune? Think again. They all straddle the most tenuous of lines.
What will you do to save them?
Our experiences with the Long Goodbye have so far been limited to exteriors, because the Project doesn't have the time and energy to track down the current owners of these properties to try to gain access. And, because as bold as I am, breaking into abandoned churches in depressed areas isn't exactly my idea of a good time.
There's no information as to whether the unnamed photographer in question did the former or the latter, but it's great to have these shots. Some immediate thoughts:
The creepiness. There is nothing scarier than any abandoned property, churches included, and some of the images here are high on the freaky factor. The shots involving the lower church doors with the cross-shaped windows, in particular, will haunt my nightmares.
The architecture. Not much left, obviously, and what's there is pretty ragged. But Transfiguration strikes me as the rare unique church. What I mean is that most Philly churches resemble each other to some extent. Minor variations aside, you tend to see the same elements and same architectural styles: Gothic, Renaissance, Romanesque, etc. The best churches, though, are those that are so distinct that there's nothing else like them around; churches like St. Francis de Sales or Our Lady of Hope. There are still some signs of that in Transfiguration--the imposing marble columns that frame the apse, the intricate tile mosaic molding, and the intricately carved and scripted tympanums.
The water damage. Some of the worst we've seen, including Our Lady of Hope and Bryn Athyn. To be honest, there's no way to know how much of this has occurred in the nine years or so since the parish closed. Still, if it was anything like it is now, it might explain why the Archdiocese closed this building and put the consolidated St. Cyprian in St. Carthage's building. (Not that Carthage / Cyprian is much better off in that regard.) It doesn't excuse the Archdiocese's decision, in the Project's eyes, but it does make it a little more understandable.
Impossibly sad, yes, but also a crucial reminder that any parish can suffer such an inglorious fate. Think yours is immune? Think again. They all straddle the most tenuous of lines.
What will you do to save them?
Friday, April 24, 2009
St. Athanasius Fan Page
An interesting note from project reader Joe Jones, who's constructing a St. Athanasius picture page. You can find the address here:
http://home.comcast.net/~joejones/st_a.html
Some cool images there, especially an interior panorama. The Project wasn't yet taking interior shots when we visited St. A's, so it's nice to have these. I didn't realize how much it resembles churches like St. Matthew and St. Bridget.
Enjoy!
http://home.comcast.net/~joejones/st_a.html
Some cool images there, especially an interior panorama. The Project wasn't yet taking interior shots when we visited St. A's, so it's nice to have these. I didn't realize how much it resembles churches like St. Matthew and St. Bridget.
Enjoy!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Project Is An Authority!
Or, at least quoted like one. Note this recent article from Temple University's Multimedia Urban Reporting Lab, a capstone course for Journalism majors.
From the article:
There are many things that make a geographical block of cement sidewalks, asphalt streets, and brick walled storefronts a community. One of which is the collective religion practiced in that area. I think it is safe to say that the religion of choice in Queen Villiage (south of South Street) has historically been Catholic. The evidence of this is obvious in the various murals and historic churches that are located in the area, churches like St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi located on Montrose Street.
According to the Philadelphia Church Project website, St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi was constructed in 1891, 21 years after it was founded in 1851. The church has ceased to function as an independent parish since 2000, but is frequently used by St. Mary Magdalene's neighboring parish, St.Paul. During its infant years, St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi was the first "Italian national parish in the U.S.," according to the Philadelphia Church Project. The Philadelphia Church Project also states that it is currently ranked as a Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission landmark.
Ok, so they seem to have problems consistently spelling the name of the church. Ah well, we'll take what we can get.
From the article:
There are many things that make a geographical block of cement sidewalks, asphalt streets, and brick walled storefronts a community. One of which is the collective religion practiced in that area. I think it is safe to say that the religion of choice in Queen Villiage (south of South Street) has historically been Catholic. The evidence of this is obvious in the various murals and historic churches that are located in the area, churches like St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi located on Montrose Street.
According to the Philadelphia Church Project website, St. Mary Magdalene de Pazzi was constructed in 1891, 21 years after it was founded in 1851. The church has ceased to function as an independent parish since 2000, but is frequently used by St. Mary Magdalene's neighboring parish, St.Paul. During its infant years, St. Mary Magdalen de Pazzi was the first "Italian national parish in the U.S.," according to the Philadelphia Church Project. The Philadelphia Church Project also states that it is currently ranked as a Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission landmark.
Ok, so they seem to have problems consistently spelling the name of the church. Ah well, we'll take what we can get.
Friday, April 17, 2009
A Long Goodbye No More?
About a year ago, the Project covered one of the formerly great churches of lower North Philadelphia, Assumption BVM. It sadly fell prey to the North Philadelphia Swath of Destruction, and has been in the Long Goodbye since 1995.
That may be changing, however. From Project reader Andrew Palewski:
The owner of the Church of the Assumption at 12th and Spring Garden Streets had recent intentions of demolishing the building. I, and a few other people, nominated the building to be listed on the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places prior to the owner seeking a permit for full demolition. The church is temporarily protected from demolition by the Historical Commission.
In order for the building to be afforded permanent protection, the Commission must elect to accept the nomination. Whether or not they do will depend partly on public feedback.
You can read more about the situation here. It seems that the current owners initially planned on using the church, but have changed their minds and want to turn it into a parking lot, or build some new, probably ugly thing in its place. Say it ain't so!
Granted, it's not easy to make a case for preserving a church that's been vacant for 14 years, but as you should know by now, the Project is a staunch advocate of our architectural and historical heritage. Even if the Archdiocese of Philadelphia did cast it aside like a leper, Assumption should still survive in some form or another.
The next meeting on this topic is a General meeting of the Phila. Historical Commission on Friday, May 8 at 9:00 AM, Room 18-029 at 1515 Arch Street. Anyone interested in saving Assumption is encouraged to attend, or otherwise reach out to Plan Philly.
That may be changing, however. From Project reader Andrew Palewski:
The owner of the Church of the Assumption at 12th and Spring Garden Streets had recent intentions of demolishing the building. I, and a few other people, nominated the building to be listed on the Philadelphia Register of Historic Places prior to the owner seeking a permit for full demolition. The church is temporarily protected from demolition by the Historical Commission.
In order for the building to be afforded permanent protection, the Commission must elect to accept the nomination. Whether or not they do will depend partly on public feedback.
You can read more about the situation here. It seems that the current owners initially planned on using the church, but have changed their minds and want to turn it into a parking lot, or build some new, probably ugly thing in its place. Say it ain't so!
Granted, it's not easy to make a case for preserving a church that's been vacant for 14 years, but as you should know by now, the Project is a staunch advocate of our architectural and historical heritage. Even if the Archdiocese of Philadelphia did cast it aside like a leper, Assumption should still survive in some form or another.
The next meeting on this topic is a General meeting of the Phila. Historical Commission on Friday, May 8 at 9:00 AM, Room 18-029 at 1515 Arch Street. Anyone interested in saving Assumption is encouraged to attend, or otherwise reach out to Plan Philly.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Anyone? Anyone?
Despite the Project's affinity for architecture, I don't really delve into issues of who actually builds these churches. That's primarily because, unlike the architects who designed them, the builders tend to remain anonymous and difficult to track. And, also, because it's not usually relevant to our mission.
But that's the question posed to the Project from reader Ed Gavin. He's curious as to the identity of the builders of the late, lamented St. Stephen at Broad and Butler Streets in Nicetown. (Now Caveat Emptor'ed into the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God.)
About a year and a half ago I referred you to some photographs of Saint Stephen's main altar posted on www.saintstephensalumni.com. Now I'm trying to find out if there's any record of who built the church - general contractor or Amish barnraisers or whatever. I know that it was designed by WIllis G. Hale, and that the cornerstone of the lower church was blessed in 1884. Have you ever come across any records of your churches that may have included what firm built the structure? Some of my old Saint Stephen's fellow graduates say that their grandfathers told them that they had "built that church," but it's not clear the extent to which these really old guys were involved. And, too, it just might be the beer talking! Any ideas?
Probably beer, although you never know. Port Richmond's Nativity BVM is the only other church I've come across that claims to be built by parishioners. I took them at their word, although once again it's something that's not easily proven or disproven, outside of a visit to the Philadelphia Archdiocese Historical Research Center (PAHRC) at St. Charles Seminary.
Are any of you familiar enough with the construction of St. Stephen to offer Ed an answer? Drop the Project a line.
But that's the question posed to the Project from reader Ed Gavin. He's curious as to the identity of the builders of the late, lamented St. Stephen at Broad and Butler Streets in Nicetown. (Now Caveat Emptor'ed into the Universal Church of the Kingdom of God.)
About a year and a half ago I referred you to some photographs of Saint Stephen's main altar posted on www.saintstephensalumni.com. Now I'm trying to find out if there's any record of who built the church - general contractor or Amish barnraisers or whatever. I know that it was designed by WIllis G. Hale, and that the cornerstone of the lower church was blessed in 1884. Have you ever come across any records of your churches that may have included what firm built the structure? Some of my old Saint Stephen's fellow graduates say that their grandfathers told them that they had "built that church," but it's not clear the extent to which these really old guys were involved. And, too, it just might be the beer talking! Any ideas?
Probably beer, although you never know. Port Richmond's Nativity BVM is the only other church I've come across that claims to be built by parishioners. I took them at their word, although once again it's something that's not easily proven or disproven, outside of a visit to the Philadelphia Archdiocese Historical Research Center (PAHRC) at St. Charles Seminary.
Are any of you familiar enough with the construction of St. Stephen to offer Ed an answer? Drop the Project a line.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Mailbag 3
From the Project's magical mailbag:
I just wanted to thank you on your article about Most Blessed Sacrament Church. I attended the school form K-8th in the 90s and even the daycare center on the campus before that. My mother and I attended the church every Sunday and my mother was also a teacher at the school for many, many years. I did a Google search to see if the church was still open, because I wanted to go to a sunday service for nostalgic purposes. To my disappointment, I found that they aren't open anymore. Your article really made me happy and brought back lots of nice memories!
You know, I receive more e-mail regarding Most Blessed Sacrament than any other parish. It goes to show that architectural beauty is one thing, but spiritual and emotional beauty is something else altogether, and the two don't often meet. That's why the Project tends to like Fat Girl Parishes so much.
Growing up in the North / Northeast regions of the city, I certainly didn't know much about West Philadelphia, let alone its parishes. But from the wonderful things I've heard about MBS, it sounds like a parish I would have liked to have been a part of, and the Project wishes it could have known it better.
(Well, maybe it's not too late!)
I just wanted to thank you on your article about Most Blessed Sacrament Church. I attended the school form K-8th in the 90s and even the daycare center on the campus before that. My mother and I attended the church every Sunday and my mother was also a teacher at the school for many, many years. I did a Google search to see if the church was still open, because I wanted to go to a sunday service for nostalgic purposes. To my disappointment, I found that they aren't open anymore. Your article really made me happy and brought back lots of nice memories!
You know, I receive more e-mail regarding Most Blessed Sacrament than any other parish. It goes to show that architectural beauty is one thing, but spiritual and emotional beauty is something else altogether, and the two don't often meet. That's why the Project tends to like Fat Girl Parishes so much.
Growing up in the North / Northeast regions of the city, I certainly didn't know much about West Philadelphia, let alone its parishes. But from the wonderful things I've heard about MBS, it sounds like a parish I would have liked to have been a part of, and the Project wishes it could have known it better.
(Well, maybe it's not too late!)
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Church Alley is timeless, I tell you. Timeless.
Someone recently sent me the following picture:
(Click for Larger)
Yes, indeed, that is a vintage photograph of our beloved Church Alley, circa 1953. Well, a part of it anyway. The photographer is looking west from around Allegheny and Belgrade, so we miss St. Adalbert and Nativity BVM. We do, however, get a lovely view of the then probably-not-Greek-to-Me Our Lady Help of Christians. It was also probably in significantly better shape then, too.
Fortunately, Port Richmond hasn't changed that much in 55 years or so. That's why this picture is nice in a quaint, happy sort of way, not a Jesus-Christ-What-Happened!?! one.
Personally, I just think the trolley tracks are incredibly cool.
Fortunately, Port Richmond hasn't changed that much in 55 years or so. That's why this picture is nice in a quaint, happy sort of way, not a Jesus-Christ-What-Happened!?! one.
Personally, I just think the trolley tracks are incredibly cool.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
MBS Rises Again
For your consideration, I present a picture of St. Bede the Venerable parish in Holland, Pa.
Not much to write home about, right? You bet. The Project doesn't have time for such garbage.
Normally, calling a church building "garbage" would get me all sorts of hate mail. But interestingly, St. Bede agrees with me. They're undertaking a campaign to extensively renovate their building, turning it into something more worthy of a place of worship. In other words, they're going "old school": turning back the architecture clock and transforming it into a more classical style.
Neat, eh? Of course, you can't just concoct an intricate marble and granite monstrosity out of thin air. To help, St. Bede has purchased some artifacts from poor Most Blessed Sacrament, including, most notably, the lovely baldacchino and some of the stained-glass windows.
There's certainly something macabre about well-to-do suburban parishes collecting the dead relics of old city parishes--the same parishes that many of their parishioners no doubt abandoned long ago. And yes, I'd rather just save those old city parishes in the first place.
But you know what? It's better than those pieces rotting in some Archdiocesan warehouse. Frankly, I love St. Bede's vision. I wish more of these modern parishes would take the same approach.
Godspeed, St. Bede. The Project wishes you luck.
Not much to write home about, right? You bet. The Project doesn't have time for such garbage.
Normally, calling a church building "garbage" would get me all sorts of hate mail. But interestingly, St. Bede agrees with me. They're undertaking a campaign to extensively renovate their building, turning it into something more worthy of a place of worship. In other words, they're going "old school": turning back the architecture clock and transforming it into a more classical style.
Neat, eh? Of course, you can't just concoct an intricate marble and granite monstrosity out of thin air. To help, St. Bede has purchased some artifacts from poor Most Blessed Sacrament, including, most notably, the lovely baldacchino and some of the stained-glass windows.
There's certainly something macabre about well-to-do suburban parishes collecting the dead relics of old city parishes--the same parishes that many of their parishioners no doubt abandoned long ago. And yes, I'd rather just save those old city parishes in the first place.
But you know what? It's better than those pieces rotting in some Archdiocesan warehouse. Frankly, I love St. Bede's vision. I wish more of these modern parishes would take the same approach.
Godspeed, St. Bede. The Project wishes you luck.
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