The ‘radical new shapes’ of yesteryear’s houses of worship

In a video posted to YouTube by IncMedia last month, congregants of Iglesia Ni Cristo (Church of Christ) are shown walking into their new purchase – a 1962 building by architect Donald N. Chapman, in collaboration with Reverend Victor Fiddes – with enormous smiles on their faces. Head Deacon Daniel Laja can be seen pointing to various features as he walks down the nave as others join him to take it all in. The high-ceiling space is quite beautiful, with an intricate, abstract wooden screen behind the altar, a wall featuring thin, round-top windows, and others of sturdy chocolate, taupe and buff brick.

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Perhaps he’s smiling because, with less formal, paired-down Modernist ecclesiastical architecture, it’s not hard to project one’s own particular requirements onto it. Indeed, before the Church of Christ purchased the Niagara Falls building, it had been owned by Battlefield Gospel Church.

“Before World War Two [builders] would adhere to these prescribed styles, like architecture in general,” says cultural heritage planner Nigel Molaro. “Maybe if it’s Gothic you could tell it’s a Protestant church, or maybe Catholic.”

Back in 2014, when Iglesia Ni Cristo was still Lundy’s Lane United Church, Mr. Molaro asked for permission to walk the grounds, note the 65-foot bell tower and matching barrel vault canopy, study the handwrought copper front doors with a painting by Tony Urquhart, and poke around inside. It was all part of a larger study of 14 Mid-Century Modern Niagara region places of worship, Sacred Modern: Places of Worship on the Niagara Peninsula 1950 – 70, done during the final year of his three-year diploma at Willowbank School of Restoration Arts in Queenston.

“I’ve always been interested in places of worship,” begins the 36-year-old, who admits that while he grew up Presbyterian he hasn’t attended a service in some time. “I’ve had a kind of reverence for these spaces of ritual and congregation and contemplation, and I’ve probably spent as much time looking at the architecture than listening to a sermon.”

The postwar period, he continues, was an interesting choice since there was an “intersection” between old and new. Some religious groups, sensing a battle with television for the attention of churchgoers, actually specified that all new buildings be equally as futuristic. “We’re still carrying forward all of these functions and traditions from the past despite these radical new shapes and forms … and as well we’re seeing a lot of traditional materials and details but expressed in new ways, and stained glass is a great example.”

It’s true: at Trinity United in Grimsby (Bruce Brown & Brisley, 1958), the stained glass windows resemble a Piet Mondrian painting; at St. Andrew’s United in Niagara Falls (Bruce Brown & Brisley, 1961), they take on harlequin shapes; at St. Catharines’ Trillium United (Macbeth & Williams, 1960) it’s trapezoids; and over at St. Alfred’s Roman Catholic Church in St. Catharines, some of the windows sport abstract, pastel-drawing-like swirls of purples, blues and yellows.

St. Alfred’s, which sits at the corner of Vine and Carlton streets, is the one building that almost caused me to hit the brakes when I toured eight of Mr. Molaro’s subjects last week. With its undulating roofline, rounded walls, and flying saucerlike appendage clad in fieldstone, it gives, as Mr. Molaro describes, “the impression of something extraterrestrial.” Designed by Hamilton-based architect Frank H. Burcher (1923-2010), who holds the distinction of being the longest practising architect in Ontario, the composition has an almost Googie-like feel to it – Googie being the name used to describe outlandish Los Angeles coffee shops, bowling alleys and car washes – since the building itself is the billboard, and as such is meant to be seen from the windshield of a speeding automobile.

The same can be said of St. Thomas More Roman Catholic in Niagara Falls (Arthur B. Scott, 1958). Except that, here, it’s the incredible height and zoomy angle of the traditional gable that grabs one’s attention. Had I found the doors to be unlocked (which I did not), I would’ve been able to ogle the impressive wooden arches inside. Luckily, after Mr. Molaro completed his survey, he enlisted the help of photographer Jonathan Castellino to document interiors.

One interior in which I did manage to gain access was at Trinity United in Grimsby. Pulling on the door to find it open, I walked as gingerly as I could into the massive sanctuary to admire the orderly rows of tiny square windows piercing the walls, and the wooden ceiling at least 30-feet above my head.

“I’m glad you got into that one,” says Mr. Molaro with a laugh. “That one was designed by a firm that specialized in ecclesiastical buildings … Bruce Brown & Brisley, and they had an in-house liturgical designer so they really offered the full suite of services for these spaces.”

But, as I learned during my brief stay at each site, one doesn’t need to set foot inside. With a simple walkabout, one can enjoy the rhythm of window placement, the various cladding choices – I particularly enjoyed the accordion-shaped panels at St. Denis Roman Catholic in St. Catharines – and the Modernist elements that weren’t exclusive to places of worship, such as curtain walls or folded plate rooflines and canopies. And, should one’s appetite be whetted, in addition to Mr. Molaro’s site, there is Doublespace Photography’s “Fifty/50″ study (doublespacephoto.com), or, heaven forbid, one could even attend a service.

Time is of the essence, however, since many of these buildings are over 60 years old and could be demolished or renovated beyond recognition soon. “My generation of heritage planners and heritage practitioners, we’re actually having to engage with these places, they’ve come of age,” finishes Mr. Molaro. “And so this is going to be an important part of what my peers and I are doing.”

Sacred Modern: Places of Worship on the Niagara Peninsula 1950 – 70 can be found at https://tinyurl.com/2p8f2kur