The Churches of New York: Losses 12 – St. Thomas the Apostle and its Stained Glass

The closing of St. Thomas the Apostle parish in 2003 set off one of the bitterest controversies (along with those surrounding Our Lady of Vilna and St. Ann’s) of Cardinal Egan’s campaign of parish reductions. For this Harlem parish, in addition to its historical significance, had one of the most magnificent churches of Manhattan, an incredible 1907 confection of eclectic gothic architecture and magnificent decoration – especially its stained glass. St Thomas the Apostle possessed one of the most complete decorative programs of Munich stained glass – of Mayer & Co. – in the New York area.

The architect of St Thomas the Apostle, Thomas Henry Poole (1860-1919), architect and author, was a key figure during the Golden Age of Catholic architecture in New York. An early church design for Manhattan, Holy Name of Jesus,( 1891-1900) is impressive but relatively restrained. From here he moved to the wild creativity of St. Cecilia, Brooklyn (1893) Our Lady of Good Counsel, Manhattan (1890-92; Poole’s own parish) and St. Thomas the Apostle, Harlem (1907). These “total art works” (Gesamtkunstwerke) deployed Gothic and non-Gothic forms in totally original ways, with lavish use of paintings, sculpture and stained glass in the interior. Our Lady of Good Counsel (which I described in the Wedding Palace Church) still gives today an idea of Poole’s accomplishments. 1)

As in most such struggles, despite the dedicated efforts of parishioners and conservationists, the Archdiocese had its way and the parish was closed in 2003. But the Archdiocese proved unable to demolish the buildings or develop the property. The church, stripped of its decorations, eventually (2014) was repurposed as a “community arts center” and venue for “events” – an admittedly ignoble end. Yet the new owner (“Harlem Parish”) restored the exterior and interior, preserving the architectural shell of St. Thomas church. We can be thankful for that! 2)

But what of the greatest glory of St. Thomas – its Munich stained glass? That too was preserved – at least in large part. But to view it, one has to travel far up the Hudson to Lagrangeville, in Dutchess county. In 2008, when the new parish church of Kateri Tekakwitha was built there, the pastor was able to acquire much of the stained glass of St Thomas the Apostle – and spoils of other closed New York churches.

For a more detailed reflection on the style of the church of St. Kateri Tekakwitha itself I refer to my prior post on the church St. Joseph of Somers, New York, a recent church in northern Westchester county which also incorporates old stained glass (from St. Ann in New York) and for which St. Kateri in many respects served as an architectural precedent. In regard to St. Kateri, we note the somewhat overwrought facade with its piling up of gables, doorways and towers. The bright interior also uneasily juxtaposes a centralizing plan with a minimalist “chancel” or sanctuary. Yet it’s clear that the parish and Archdiocese were striving here for something more than the brick or concrete modernistic boxes of the 1960’s and 70’s. 3)

But in St. Kateri the Mayer & Co glass – executed in its most characteristic, exuberant, neo-Rennaissance style – is on full display. As a general theme, the windows depict the miracles of Christ. The figures are more substantial than the doll-like images sometimes found in of the windows of other churches (including Poole’s own Our Lady of Good Counsel). And in the St. Thomas windows the glass makers take endless delight in narrative details and in the expressions of the saints (and sometimes sinners) they depict. As always in Munich stained glass, the colors are glorious. The dedications are missing.

The set of St. Thomas windows at St. Kateri is not complete. The pastor of St Kateri told me of a photograph of an Annunciation window which he has seen. St. Thomas also featured a grand facade window centered on an image of the Assumption or Immaculate Conception. Few or none of the panels of this window seem to have reached St. Kateri.

As is usual in such huge projects, the windows of St. Thomas seem to be a mix of images very commonly encountered in Catholic churches of the day (such as Christ welcoming the little children) and those that are more unusual and seem to be a specific commission. Such as Christ discoursing with the Samaritan woman at the well (above). Or the Visitation window (below) in which the Virgin holds a walking staff – I at least haven’t seen that elsewhere.

The artists of Mayer reused images over the years – given the sheer scale of this company’s output through the 1930’s, how could it be otherwise? Compare the visit of the Magi as depicted in a window from St. Thomas (above) with the same scene in a window (below) – of an earlier date, I believe – at Holy Innocents church in New York.

The unusual subject of the raising from the dead of the daughter of Jairus, as depicted in a window from St. Thomas (above). Below is the same scene in the Cathedral of Covington, Kentucky – executed at approximately the same time. If these windows were not indeed made by the same artist, then the same pattern books or drawings served as models.

The marriage feast at Cana: in a St. Thomas window (above) and at St. James cathedral, Brooklyn (below). In Brooklyn, the same basic composition is confined to one large pane. The execution of the latter is also more sophisticated and uniform in quality – the window from St. Thomas shows evidence of several different hands, and the left two panels are considerably cruder than that depicting Christ. But the pop-eyed expression in that window of the boy pouring water which is turning into wine is priceless. And then there is the pineapple ( a fruit from the New World!) on the table in the Brooklyn window.

Any one of these windows from St. Thomas merits close study. Only then can we appreciate the fine details such as, in this window of Candlemas, the rendering of the fabrics or the expression of the priest Simeon and the prophetess Anna. And then, stepping back, we can admire the harmonious overall composition.

The washing of the feet of Christ by St. Mary Magdalen. The circle of host and guests taking umbrage at her action forms a kind of unholy “Last Supper” – note their expressions.

(Above and below) Two of a series of angels now installed at St. Brigid church on Tompkins Square. These also are described as spoils from St. Thomas the Apostle – which gives an idea of the magnitude of the decoration that once was there. We should be grateful that much of the stained glass of the Harlem church has survived. But the loss of the original artistic unity of architecture and the decoration that was found at St. Thomas remains an incomparable tragedy.

1. On Poole see the Wikipedia article: Thomas Henry Poole.
2. For further photos of the current state of the former parish church, see Newyorkitecture.com; many more photos at Harlem Parish.
3. St. Kateri Tekakwitha parish