"Stained Glass and the Book of Revelation"

AN ARTICLE on the apocalyptic design of traditional churches: Stained Glass and the Book of Revelation, by Msgr. Charles Pope. From that article:

Most Catholics are unaware of how our traditional church buildings are based on designs given by God himself. Designs that stretch all the way back to Mount Sinai when God set forth the design for the sanctuary in the desert and the tent of meeting. Many of the fundamental aspects of our church layouts still follow that plan and the stone version of it that became the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem.

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Build Your Own Gothic Cathedral

THE EARLY 20^th Century saw the recovery of canonical iconography in the Christian East, and we now are seeing a revival of the Baroque. But as far as I know, there is nowhere an artist can go to learn Gothic art and architecture: it is not a living tradition. But if we understand the original principles used, we can reconstruct a tradition and make it our own. David Clayton writes about his work to recreate Gothic painting from scratch here. And it so happens that we know many of the original design principles of Gothic architecture.

In my travels I've seen lots of attempts at putting a Gothic ‘look’ on churches of various denominations. Decorative elements, such as pointed arches and rose windows, are supposed to make a building look ‘churchy’, but these designs often fall flat and can even look comical (let's hope not on purpose, for the sake of the souls of the designers). The problem is that these design elements simply don't look right. Their proportions are wrong, sometimes severely wrong, and are far from the originals they purport to resemble. In the case of Gothic pointed arches, often the geometry isn't even close, and they may end up looking something like the Gateway Arch (which itself is often poorly duplicated hereabouts). You cannot have just any kind of curve to reproduce a Gothic arch. Because I do not want to embarrass any property owners, I didn't take any pictures.

This is not a Gothic arch.

I'm willing to understand poor work for C-grade buildings that are inexpensively made and quickly constructed out of cheap materials: perhaps the builder simply didn't know how such design elements are made, and wasn't paid to find out, and so the client is more at fault. I am far less willing to accept the same from high end architecture. But I seriously doubt that most contemporary architecture schools — of the revolutionary kind that came out of the 1960s — would even allow the teaching of antique design methods. There is a school of thought that thinks that the study of history is dangerous because people will be tempted to reproduce the errors of the past; rather, I say the study of history allows someone the ability to recognize mistakes and not repeat them, as well as help you see more recent mistakes that ought to be corrected. (An old joke says that conservatives never allow mistakes to be corrected, while progressives keep making the same mistakes over and over again.)

The Gothic style was not a mistake: it is the crowning glory of architecture.

Authentic Gothic arches at Lincoln Cathedral. Source: A. D. White Architectural Photographs, Cornell University Library.

We are told that the Middle Ages were barbarous and ignorant, the worst of times, and have nothing to offer contemporary Man. But still they made the Gothic cathedrals, and contemporary Man is held in awe, knowing that he is incapable of building such things today. Nowadays, we assume that knowledge equals understanding, and that technology is a substitute for theory, but the artifacts of our culture merely show that we have more money than we do a sense of beauty. And a little bit of faith is worth more than a lot of knowledge.

Excessively Pretty Art

ONE OF THE fun things a Catholic can do is criticize both sides of any given secular debate. While it is far too easy to criticize the intentional ugliness of contemporary academic state-sponsored art, we often forget to criticize the opposite: the overly sentimental and excessively pretty art favored by conservative Evangelicals. Simcha Fischer does that here and Hilary White comments on that there. And The Crescat does that all the time.

What I find particularly fascinating about this whole debate is seen in the comments in Simcha's article. People take their tastes seriously and questioning this taste is seen as a personal attack. But the odd thing is that people typically justify their tastes purely through the idea that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Both the Evangelical and the Modernist use this justification.

This ought not be too surprising, since both groups have similar beliefs. Both deny or avoid the metaphysical questions which form the intellectual core of Catholicism. Both groups are uncomfortable with the transcendental values of truth, goodness, and beauty, and so similarly see these things as a matter of subjective preference.

I think this is perhaps why since my youth I've always preferred Catholic and Jewish (and Eastern Orthodox) women more than Protestant women: and that was long before I became Catholic. Due to the influence of their religion and culture, their attitude towards beauty was more objective and natural than the artificial beauty or intentional ugliness more generally found among Protestants. I wouldn't be catholic if I failed to mention that natural and objective beauty can be found in traditional cultures throughout the world. I see two erroneous arguments. First, cosmetics are designed to enhance beauty, therefore more cosmetics will make someone more beautiful. Second, a human being has an intrinsic, ontological beauty  due to being made in the Image and Likeness of God; therefore, nothing needs to be done to be beautiful. Both are wrong, but rather popular opinions.

We should not be afraid to examine ourselves, and determine why we find something beautiful. Is it merely fashion, or do deeper principles apply?

The Basilica of Saint Louis, King of France, in downtown Saint Louis, is seen here from the top of the Gateway Arch. When Laclede and Choteau planned the village of Saint Louis in 1764, this spot was reserved for the Catholic church: this structure was completed in 1834, and was preceded by a brick church, a log church, and a log house. The earliest Masses were offered here in a tent. The rectory attached to the church dates from the 1960s. Formerly the Cathedral of the Archdiocese, this is now a personal parish.

Please note the view looking down on the church. While the majority of Americans claim to be religious — or spiritual — there is often little concrete evidence of it, for the most prominent structures here are either towers of commerce or the state.