![]() ARTICLESOctober 2000 ARTICLESLETTERS
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It's Like Making A Horse Out of A CowLocal Architect Sees Beauty in TraditionBy Charles A. Coulombe "There's been a great emphasis in ecclesiastical design to have God come down to the people instead of us going up to God. I don't think that's a healthy psychology or theology. There's been a lot of dumbing down of church design because of it." So said Rhett Judice, a local architect. No, Judice is not a Catholic, though he has worked on some Catholic churches. Judice is an Anglican interested in fostering a Catholic legacy -- traditional church architecture. Prior to about 1970, the tabernacle dominated the high altar, which was the central feature in the church. On either side might be two side altars; always there was around the sanctuary a communion rail where the faithful knelt to receive the Eucharist. Depending on the size of the church, there might be side altars along the nave dedicated to saints, each with or without its own rail. A baptismal font near the entrance to the church symbolized entrance into the Mystical Body of Christ, while statues and paintings reminded worshippers of the saints and dogmas and events in the life of the Church. A misunderstanding of church architectural history, condemned in advance by Pius XII in the 1956 encyclical Mediator Dei, and since discredited by the work of Monsignor Klaus Gamber, led to the notion that the early Christian priests had offered Mass facing the people. Although not an integral part of the New Order of Mass, nor mentioned at Vatican II, this idea was taken up by the liturgical establishment and found its way into The General Instruction on the Roman Missal. All over the world tables were set up in front of altars. In some places that was as far as it went. In others, renovation became iconoclasm, as high altars were mutilated or thrown out entirely, side altars destroyed, statues and paintings discarded, altar rails removed, and the tabernacle moved to a side altar or separate chapel. In Los Angeles, no one has been a more enthusiastic proponent of these alterations than Roger Cardinal Mahony. In his 1997 letter on the Liturgy, Gather Faithfully Together, Mahony, in describing a utopian parish, wrote, "At Our Lady of the Angels, the renovation put people on three sides of the area where the altar and the ambo are, so most members of the assembly are able to participate more fully with the other members of the assembly." Since the 1994 Northridge quake, the speed of renovation in the archdiocese has picked up considerably. Parish after parish have undergone meetings to explain their pressing need for such changes. These would be conducted, until he recently accepted a pastorate, by Father Albarano, seconded by such authorities as Armando Ruiz. A 57-year-old Diamond Bar architect whose work is primarily ecclesiastical, Ruiz serves on the archdiocese's liturgical design committee and has been consulted on the new cathedral downtown. Although he told me that he will not speak to the Mission, Ruiz was quoted in a June 20, 2000 Los Angeles Times article as saying that "theology always shapes sacred architecture.... The altar was moved so the priest could face the people and they could see what he was doing." Asked about the baptismal fonts being moved, Ruiz replied, "the new theology is that we all participate in the sacraments. When someone enters the church to be baptized we are all involved in it, so the baptismal font belongs in our midst, not off to the side." As for the moving forward of the pulpits, "that brings the priest closer to the people." The main focus of the afore-mentioned Times article is the 40-year-old Episcopalian architect, Rhett Judice. A native of Lake Charles, Louisiana, Judice, like Ruiz, loves working with churches. There the similarity stops. Although an Anglican, Judice's theological approach to his work finds a very different basis from Ruiz's. When I asked him about the movement of the altar to the center of the church, Judice replied, "It is part of my picture that the Mass be less about 'me,' more about glorifying God. We're not the center of it. The point is to carry out the drama of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ." He is particularly concerned about alterations to existing churches. "You have to be loyal to the architecture. To take a church that is Gothic or Romanesque or whatever, and then modernize it, is like making a horse out of a cow. You stick the altar in the middle of the room and we stand around and sing 'Feelings.' If you want a modern building, fine. But don't screw up one that already exists." Another contrast is Judice's work. Where Ruiz and others will alter existing structures to conform to the new theology, Judice is often called upon to return renovated churches to a more traditional style. St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Hollywood had a bright pastel stained glass window behind the altar; Judice put in a beautiful gothic reredos featuring a scene of the Resurrection with a brilliant blue background. The stark modern altar rail was encased in classical Gothic wood-work. But will he do modernesque work if asked? Would he pull out the altar into the center of an older church, or erect a new one that way? "No. I'm not going to put my name to something I don't believe in. If the priest wants it that way, fine, that's his theology. But it's not mine, and I won't be involved." Nor is his work confined to Episcopal churches. "In 1998, thanks to a private donation, Christ the King in Hancock Park was able to hire me to restore some of the damage done in the earlier renovation. Using old photos I put back some of the old decorations -- with Anglican reserve! But the result was quite beautiful, I think." When asked what the archdiocese thought, he replied, "I didn't consult them, and they didn't consult me." Although working a great deal on private homes and businesses, Judice loved his church work. "For me, it's definitely a ministry." Asked why, he said, "my earliest memory is looking up at the high vaulted ceiling in church. God was speaking to me, through architecture, through art, through music. Growing up, the priest always encouraged my love of these things." For Judice, the Blessed Sacrament is the center of church architecture. "The Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist is the focal point. Churches need to reflect this. And they should be elegant. They are the outward expression of the Bride of Christ -- the face of God. Where do you think proportions come from? Make no mistake. Even the pagans of classical antiquity got it right -- they saw balance, symmetry -- all of which we need today so desperately." Asked about the new cathedral, Judice replied, "I have only seen models and haven't been consulted. But judging by what I've seen, it seems very minimalist, with little artwork, and more Protestant than Catholic in feeling. And all of those planes. It probably will not age well, and that's too bad. That's the grace and beauty of older architecture -- as it ages it gets better." Does he receive any opposition? "Oh, sure. My work's been highly criticized, but I don't try to make converts. I just do what I do." In Rome, in such places as the school of architecture at Notre Dame in this country, there is a small but growing movement -- both theological and structural -- away from the 60s-70s school of church design. But it is perhaps a sign of authentic ecumenism that the foremost spokesman and practitioner of renewed architectural orthodoxy in this archdiocese should be an Episcopalian. |