Modern-Day Stonemasons Build Trippy Cathedral

By the evening of Dec 24th, it seemed inevitable that the rush of New York City would trump the fact of Christmas Eve (see my previous post on X-Mas vs NYC). In order to level the playing field and give ol’ Christmas a fighting chance, I decided to attend midnight mass, something that I have never done before.

It seems that I was not the only one in New York with this idea in mind: by the time I arrived at the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine, a thick lineup poured down the steps of the Cathedral and snaked halfway down the block. Before long, they announced that the church was at capacity the queue of hopeful churchgoers were told that there was no way we were getting in.

For a moment I felt tears prick my eyes. It never feels good to be turned away, especially on Christmas, especially by a church for crying out loud! But, as I retraced my steps towards Brooklyn, I found myself laughing at the irony of the situation. The church sold out on Christmas Eve! New York City, you win again!

This morning, after bagels and lox at Zabar’s, the sprawling Jewish deli on the Upper West Side, I revisited the Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine, the trippiest church I have ever seen…

Construction of the episcopal church began in 1892 in a Romanesque style, but following a the architectural fashion of the day, switched to French Gothic in the 1910s. The result is an odd yet alluring collage of styles, best seen from the side:

Construction of the Cathedral was suspended during the Second World War and did not recommence until 1979. In order to preserve the craft of stone-masonry, while helping neighbrouhood youths gain job skills, the Reverend began a program in which locals were apprenticed as stonemasons.

The dense detail that adorns the front of the church gives it an authentic Gothic feel, yet the images, works by master stone-crafters Simon Verity and Jean-Claude Marchionni, are surprisingly contemporary.
Columns carved with images of birth and death. Modern visions of the apocalypse include a tidal wave crashing down on the New York City skyline, and a bus plumeting from a crumbling bridge.
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In the 1990s, the chuch ran out of money and abandoned construction of the towers. This year, the scaffolding that had surrounded the church for over 30 years was finally taken down. The towers jut up towards the sky, still unfinished.

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Beside the church is the monumental Peace Fountain, an enormous bronze sculpture created by Greg Wyatt that supposedly depicts the eternal struggle between good and evil. To me it looks a lot more like the eternal love between man and giraffe…

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Finally, as if to emphasize the feeling that I was on some kind of hallucinogenic trip, I stumbled upon this peacock strutting about the church parking lot. The parking lot attendant was unfazed. He explained that it was one of three birds belonging to the church that wander freely, sometimes even leaving the church grounds. “They go about their business and then come back,” he said.

Lots of the info in this post is taken from the NY architecture website.