Saint Matthew's Church, Malmo, Sweden

The most beautiful church floor I know is that of Saint Matthew's in Malmo, Sweden.  I'm not that engaged with the rest of the 1983 structure by architect Sten Samuelson , but the interior work--long pale semicircular pews and a font by Swedish glassmaker Kosta--is sublime.

And such care was taken with the floor...an attention rarely seen past the days of the medieval encaustic tiles.  These circular ceramic tiles are handmade, by Swedish ceramacist duo Gutstav and Ulla Klaitz.  Note how their dappled color deepens under the pews and in circles around the font and pulpit, subtly defining these spaces.

Take a good look, too, at how removing the heavy 'legs' traditionally seen on wooden pews modernizes their look.  I've mentioned before  that this is a wonderful way to use pews--which have many benefits as church seating--in a fresh way.   These pews appear to float on blue supports that not only blend into the floor but also reference the  painted pews traditionally found in Swedish churches.

All photos by Anders Bengtsson, via flickr.

Wayfinding Wallpaper

"Wayfinder is a line of wallpaper designed to serve a functional purpose within the context of architecture. Wallpaper is typically decorative. Symbols are typically functional. The combination of the two creates new possibilities for architects, interior designers and space planners."

And churches...these are an interesting solution for larger buildings in which bold wayfinding is needed, for contemporary retrofits, and for older church spaces in which the bathrooms are hidden down a hallway and difficult to find!  They would also be a great graphic addition to a youth space.

The Wayfinder wallpaper is by Mike and Maaike Inc, manufactured by Rollout.

Johnson Chapel at Trinity School, Manhattan, Butler Rogers Baskett Architects, 2009

Inspirational control of light in this chapel found at archidose...

To prevent the intrusion of mechanical systems into the sleek minimalism of the chapel (no grills or vents are in evidence), the bed of rock in which the cross is placed covers the ventilation system where air is introduced into the room, and the lowered ceiling plane of the light well hides the returns as well as providing the beams that rake the light diagonally along the wall.

Chapel of St. Ignatius, Stephen Holl, 1997, Seattle, Washington

So, the post I meant to publish last week--before the Crisis in the Lab and the Wedding of the Brother intervened-- was about St. Ignatius, another chapel whose design and symbology centers around light.

Steven Holl describes the chapel as a stone box containing seven 'bottles' of light. Skylights and colored glass are used to create seven different qualities of light, corresponding to elements of the (Roman Catholic) liturgical progression:

1. Procession – natural sunlight 2. Narthex – natural sunlight 3. Nave – yellow field with blue lens (east); blue field with yellow lens (west) 4. Blessed Sacrament – orange field with purple lens 5. Choir – green field with red lens 6. Reconcilation Chapel – purple field with orange lens 7. Bell Tower and pond – projecting reflecting night light

The interior of the chapel flutters with patches of colored light, as if inside a very slow-turning kaleidoscope. It is frankly brilliant.

I do find the exterior disappointing; the stone bottles rising from the box seem awkward and piecey, uncohesive. Nevertheless, this is a building I would travel to see.

And having something of a background in optics I love the front door, which has seven lenses (repeating the seven bottles theme) set in at different angles to rotate light into the interior at different times of the evening.

Whether this style of building would suit your church or not, let it inspire you to carefully consider the power of not just the presence of light, but its nature (color, intensity), its progression (time of day and season), and its absence (shadows) as well.

Complete tour available at the Seattle University site.

The best photos of the chapel are by Liao Yusheng at figure-ground.

P.S. I wish I knew what the finish on the (concrete?) interior is, creating the slightly 'blotchy' pattern. Any help?

Church of the Light, Tadao Ando, 1989

Today, two churches that are uniquely centered around light...

The first is Tadao Ando's Church of the Light in Osaka Japan which is well-known in architectural circles but, paradoxically, not in church-y ones.

Though Ando certainly works in a minimalist fashion, the asceticism of this church was as much an issue of low budget as of aesthetics. The contractor donated the construction of the roof when funds ran out and the church pews and the floorboards are made of construction wood salvaged from concrete forms and scaffolding.

Ando is an architect by talent, not by training. He has no formal education in the field but nonetheless received architecture's highest award, the Pritzker Prize, in 1995.

Church of the Light is quite small, and its all-concrete construction has been described as claustrophobic by some. But it demonstrates well the power of light, the possibilities of negative space, and the wisdom of putting your money where it counts, in a strong, central focal point.

[Lovely images, above by Liao Yusheng. An excellent tour of the entire site, which gives some sense of the way the unique concrete forms of the church are experienced, is here. And of course, there is a Wiki on the Church of the Light.]

St. Bart and Panton

dezeen magazine (April 2007) featurea the interior of St. Bartholomew's church in Eastern Bohemia as redesigned by Maxim Velcovsky with Verner Panton chairs, crystal chandeliers, persian rugs and walls left in a partially stripped stage to show the progress of time. Whether it's your style or not, what's striking is how rarely this sort of design is seen in this sort of setting. Which is why I'm starting this blog.