Historic Sacred Places of Philadelphia

Roger W. Moss

Photographs by Tom Crane

(University of Pennsylvania Press, Philadelphia, 2005)

In the last decade or so we have seen growing efforts to evaluate and preserve the precious legacy of America’s religious architecture. These structures provide a unique point of reference for cities, neighborhoods and small towns. For example, monstrous commercial and apartment buildings may be the overpowering visual presence in New York today – but who can think of even Midtown Manhattan without St. Patrick’s or St. Thomas – or, further south, Trinity or Grace Churches? Yet, in the “official” story of American architecture only the secular is emphasized: residences, office buildings and colleges.

 In this book, Roger Moss and photographer Tom Crane aim to remedy that defect – at least for the City of Brotherly Love. The author is Director of the Athenaeum of Philadelphia, an adjunct professor of architecture at the University of Pennsylvania and also a seasoned veteran of the local preservation wars. Moss has selected 50 of the leading houses of worship of Philadelphia to illustrate the heritage of religious architecture of this city. For each church he provides a short clear description (focusing perhaps too heavily on architecture) along with several splendid photographs.

Now this volume offers some surprises for those more familiar with the situation in New York.  For the genius of Philadelphia ecclesiastical architecture seems to have remained close to its 18^thcentury neoclassical roots, whereas on the Hudson, thanks to Upjohn, Renwick, Goodhue and Cram the Gothic predominated. Except for a remarkable series of (non-Catholic) Gothic structures starting from the middle of the 19^th century onward, the classical and later the baroque remained the preferred idiom. Furthermore, although perhaps only due to the author’s selection, it seems that Philadelphia church architects, like their Chicago colleagues, had more  opportunity to spread out and create more elaborate architectural forms –  in contrast to the constraints imposed by the confined space of Manhattan.

Of course what primarily interests us are the Catholic churches of which the author provides a representative if not exceedingly large cross-section.   A unique treasure is a set of three churches going back to the 18^th century (even if later rebuilt or modified). One, Old Saint Joseph’s Church, is a kind of Catholic speakeasy, accessed through a gate leading to a European style courtyard.  In another, Holy Trinity is a painting by Francis Martin Drexel from Tirol – who would later exchange his studio for a brokerage office and found the Drexel financial family (of which St. Katherine Drexel was a descendent). A remarkable number of these Catholic churches appear to have preserved their interiors and sanctuaries more or less intact. Indeed, the author is very much interested in the subject of preserving the original interior decoration. In that regard, what are the thoughts of the author regarding Vatican II and its fruits?

(On Holy Trinity) “…the present Victorian altar survived the misguided destruction prompted by Vatican II that was visited on nearby St. Mary’s.  A simple oak table placed facing the congregation now serves as an  altar, thereby preserving the white and gilt confection that stretches  across the apse at the east end.”(p. 117)

(On the high altar of St. Augustine’s Church) “Fortunately it escaped the misinterpretation of Vatican II that led to the destruction of so many altars.” (p. 89)

(On Old St. Mary’s) “Efforts to modernize the interior of Old Saint Mary’s in the post-Vatican II era resulted in the destruction of many 19^th century embellishments.” (p.59 – with a picture of the Victorian interior on p. 57)

(On St. Francis Xavier) “Following the Second Vatican Council in 1962, Saint Francis Xavier adopted the new form of Mass, which replaced Latin with the vernacular and began receiving communion in the hand. Fortunately, the parish did not vandalize its high altar, adopting instead the simple expedient of constructing a new wooden altar to face the congregation while saying mass, a solution that might have preserved the altars of many historic churches of several denominations during the revolutionary – some might say radical –days of the 1960’s” (p.233)

(On St. Vincent de Paul)  “In 1978-79 the altar rail was removed as part of the alterations relating to liturgical changes following Vatican II.” (p. 274 – apparently the “revolutionary-some might say radical-days” didn’t necessarily end in the 1960’s)

(On St. Francis de Sales)  “Liturgical changes following Vatican II created a quandary for Saint Francis de Sales Church. Desiring to protect the neo-Byzantine architecture of (the architect’s) original design” (the parish adopted in 1968 Moss’s favorite solution of positioning a “people’s altar” in front of the main altar). “The entire choir was then illuminated by a curved white cathode light described by one sympathetic critic as a ‘wall that is not a wall, an invisible wall, a symbolic line which defines the new space; it recognizes the history and aesthetic value of the traditional altar, yet defines it as history, a past out of which we are now reaching toward something new.’ To the congregation, however, the light suggested offensive commercial architecture, and it was removed.” (p. 226 – the communion rail gates were also removed)

The author laments that until recently very few churches were on the National Register of Historic Places, attributing that fact to US secularist traditions. But such a listing is certainly unpopular with the denominations as well – first and foremost with the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church. For such designations interfere with the ability of the clergy to realize the real estate value of the church buildings.

All in all, this work is not only a splendid introduction to Philadelphia church architecture but also a great handbook for the student and defender of local ecclesiastical architecture who seeks to understand and preserve his own city’s architectural past.