THEOLOGY OF SPACE:
ORTHODOX ARCHITECTURE IN THE NEW
CENTURY
Article by Inga
Leonova
Faith & Form, No. 2, 2006
No architect can rebuild a cathedral of another epoch
embodying the desires, the aspirations, the love and hate of the people whose
heritage it became. Therefore the
images we have before us of monumental structures of the past cannot live again
with the same intensity and meaning. Their faithful duplication is
unreconcilable.
- Louis Kahn[1]
In ecclesiastical architecture, the
stark 20th century principle of Òform follows functionÓ poses an
interesting and somewhat ambiguous problem. Conceptually, Christian
understanding of life presupposes that since all human activity should ideally
be directed toward worship of the Divine, it therefore assumes theological significance.
While this might seem a stretched argument in some areas of life, it is
certainly a valid principle in ecclesiastical art and architecture.
It has been argued that the
theological significance of places of worship is an acquired quality. Colin Cunningham,
for example, states that Òa church building is not the essential basic element
in Christian worshipÓ[2],
supporting his statement by evidence that the first Christians often worshipped
in the open air or in various enclosed spaces of no templar significance, and
that the symbolic definitions associated with sacred space developed very
slowly. I would like to argue that architectural space is highly significant in
Christian worship, that its organization derives from the both the functional
requirements of the liturgical process and the spiritual aspects of peopleÕs
perception of their environment, and that its development is an organic process
which should ideally follow the living tradition of the Church as well as
progress of other human activities such as building technology.
Understanding of what theological
definition of space means in terms of material reality can help redefine the
architectural principles that govern the design of contemporary Eastern
Orthodox churches. Unlike Western ecclesiastical architecture, the live
continuity of Orthodox architectural tradition, as it relates to other aspects
of Orthodox art and theology, has suffered various interruptions at different
points in history, resulting in the somewhat disappointing current condition of
Orthodox church architecture. An explanation for this can be found in the
political history of the Eastern Orthodox world, with Orthodox countries either
suffering under Muslim occupation for many centuries (Middle East, North
Africa, Greece, Bulgaria and the Balkan states), or going through violent
internal political changes that were often unfavorable for the Church
(Russia).
However, over the course of the last
150 years the geopolitical climate in Eastern Europe had changed, and it
finally became possible for the Orthodox tradition to begin to reinvent
itself. Greece gained independence
from the Ottoman Empire in the mid-19th century. In the beginning of the 20th
century, the Communist revolution in Russia and the banishment of religion has
led to the exodus of the Orthodox to the West, to Czechoslovakia, Germany,
France, and finally, America. The second event more than the first has led to
resurgence in interdenominational communication, and the subsequent creation of
the ecumenical World Council of Churches. Orthodox theological thought has
experienced a true renaissance, fostered by the necessity to redefine the
ChurchÕs position in the transformed world. Seventy years later, Russia
overthrew the Communist regime, and the Orthodox Church regained its position
as the principal religion of the state.
It is worth noting that
the globalization of the Western world over the last 100 years has redefined
its cultural and ethnic boundaries. Whether the Orthodox choose to be aware of
it or not, their ethnic churches no longer exist in a vacuum, neither
liturgically nor architecturally. The International Style of the early 20th
century virtually erased ethnic architectural frontiers, and nowadays it would
be possible to construct an entire homogeneous city out of buildings selected
at random and indifferently from Moscow, Paris, Jerusalem or New York. By the
same token, the Orthodox population of the world is also no longer limited to
Eastern Europe. In Western Europe as well as in both Americas, there are
several Orthodox Churches with numerous congregations, each struggling to
define its identity in the context of the larger Orthodox world as well as the
world as a whole.
Re-establishment of an independent mentality in the
Orthodox Church, as well as in other areas of cultural and political thinking,
has not been a smooth process. In church architecture, although new
construction has been quite prolific, especially in the last 20 years, it
appears that, more often than not, designers opt to fall back on vernacular
origins. The architects of the present-day Orthodox churches struggle with both
the burden of the nostalgic ethnic vernacular (such as the notion that there
can be no Orthodox church without an onion dome), and more importantly, the
lack of a clear understanding of what defines the Orthodox worship space beyond
the familiar paraphernalia. Numerous attempts to force the Orthodox liturgical
process into the religious forms of the West, without a clear understanding of
what defines a particularly Orthodox space, have always been unsuccessful. The
problem is not in the change of form as such, but rather in the deliberate
imposition of an archetype on a particular existing function, forcing the
function to adopt rather than transform the archetype. As a result, those
churches become merely ÒeasternizedÓ, decorated with Orthodox paraphernalia,
perpetuating the stereotype of Orthodox space as one delineated by a multitude
of icons.
Unfortunately, or
perhaps consequently, there is also a scarcity of architectural research on the
subject of contemporary Orthodox liturgical architecture. The rich and diverse
study of sacred space in contemporary Western architectural theory is typically
oblivious to Orthodox architecture, perhaps due to a shortage of notable modern
buildings, as well as the low profile that the Orthodox Church maintains in the
contemporary world. One of the examples can be found in Richard
KieckheferÕs seminal book Theology
in Stone, which,
although it begins with Byzantine examples of Òsacramental churchesÓ,
eventually gravitates toward Western Òsacramental liturgyÓ, thereby leaving a
whole archetype beyond the limits of the book.[3]
Alternatively, most of the writing on Orthodox architecture is produced within
theological liturgical research. At best, this work considers these buildings
from the purview of art history, and is typically concerned only with
historical examples. There is also ample architectural research focused on the
religious buildings produced during the seventy years of the Communist regime
in Russia. However, political constraints obliged this research to limit itself
to the physical and historical properties of church buildings, completely
ignoring the theological aspects of worship space.[4]
Sadly, the inertia of this imbalanced approach carries into the present day. On
the other hand, the proliferation of churches built by immigrants in Western
countries over the past century has not yet attracted the attention of
architectural researchers. Even
Frank Lloyd WrightÕs amazing Annunciation Greek Orthodox Church in Milwaukee
remains one of the least studied of his buildings. Surely the time has come to fill this void in the
architectural thinking, and to endeavor to suggest the contemporary
understanding of space and material in the Orthodox church building.
To this end it appears
necessary to determine what, if anything, defines the uniquely Orthodox
perception of built space. It is essential to separate what can be considered
fundamental to the concept of space as it reflects the function of the liturgy,
and what is the veneer of local traditions and ethnic stereotypes that have
obscured the utilization of space and consequently the understanding of the
liturgy. The liturgical tradition of the Orthodox Church is considered by many
to be the most conservative of any currently practiced in the Western world. To
some, it means that the Orthodox church buildings should also remain frozen in
time. There exists a body of apologetic writing, typically by architects of
ÒrevivalistÓ churches, that argue that since the tradition has been
interrupted, the only appropriate path for a modern church designer is to go
back in time and faithfully replicate the forms and materials of what is
considered the Òhigh ageÓ of a particular ethnic liturgical architecture.[5]
However, the quote from Louis Kahn that has been used as an epigraph to this
essay appeals to me as highly valid argument. I would like to contend that
there must be a way to acknowledge the past without resuscitating its forms. Architecture,
as any other art form, is rooted in its time and its culture, and while its
best achievements transcend the confines of time, still the distinction must be
made between the objective principles, and the subjective particulars of a
given period. To use an example from the realm of music, the classical
overtures in Alfred SchnitkeÕs Concerti serve to connect his works to the great
classical music tradition, but were the composer to write a pseudo-Baroque
piece, which is something he was certainly technically capable of, it would
have been, no matter how skillfully done, nothing but a pale shadow of the
period since it would have been completely misplaced in music history.
To understand the
challenges facing the modern architects of the Orthodox church, one must begin
by examining the historic development of Orthodox architecture, and attempt to
reconstruct the aspects of this architecture that are essential for the process
of the liturgy as well as the Orthodox theological awareness of built environment.
The great wealth of Orthodox ecclesiastical architectural tradition should be
utilized to inform, but not govern, the church construction of today. I believe
that the example of the 20th century Orthodox theologians can serve
as a guide for following a similar process in architectural research.
Clarifying the underlying historical principals of the organization of
Christian worship space, as well as engaging in a dialogue with contemporary
Western architects on this subject, should only help to establish the guiding
principles of contemporary Orthodox church design. Orthodox architecture can
and should reconcile itself with the profound necessity Òto build churches out
of that reality which we experience and verify every dayÓ[6],
while remaining faithful to the definition of an ecclesiastical building as
that whose primary function is to be an epiphany of Divine and human
transcendent co-celebration. Ultimately, the design should respect the primary
concept of the Church as a body of Christ, and remember that this body is built
of Òliving stonesÓ[7], not
suspended in time and frozen in tradition, but growing as the world growsÉ
© 2005, Inga Leonova
[1] Louis Kahn. Monumentality, in Peter Twombly, Louis Kahn: essential texts. W. W. Norton & Company, New York/London, 2003,
p.22.
[2] Cunningham, Colin. Stones of witness: church architecture and function, Sutton Publishing Ltd., 1999, p. 3
[3] Richard Kieckhefer. Theology in Stone. Oxford University Press, 2004.
[4] I would suggest that perhaps
one of the last endeavors to analyze Orthodox art in its living context was
made in 1918, at the crest of Russian Revolution, by Eugene Troubetskoy. After
that, research tended to address singularly historical subjects.
[5] See, for example, Marina
Golokova. Church architecture: tradition and modernity. St. Petersburg
Construction Weekly, August 2004; A. Anisimov. Contemporary Orthodox
temples: construction experience. Construction Technologies, no. 1, 2004; and
many others.
[6] Rudolf Schwarz. The Church Incarnate: the sacred
function of Christian architecture.
Henry Regnery Company, Chicago, 1958, p. 11.
[7] 1 Peter 2:4-6