Possibilities of modern churches
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| Possibilities of modern churches | |
| Urmas Oja | |
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A church is usually a grand
and dominating building, its main
topic, after all, being God himself in
a religious temple. A church is a
very traditional institution and
therefore its architectural expression
has been quite precisely determined.
Usually we are able to recognise
a church, but at the beginning
of the 21st century this is no longer
as certain. In Soviet times of course
no churches were established in
Estonia and we are lucky to have
kept what we had before. The only
exception was the obligatory chapel
for all confessions built in 1980 for
the Moscow Olympics in the Pirita
Yachting Centre in Tallinn (architect
Avo-Himm Looveer).Towards the end of the 1980s the situation changed. Various competitions resulted in numerous fascinating designs for small churches and chapels (competition of the Haljala cemetery chapel in 1987, winner Leonhard Lapin; Ridala Chapel, architect P. Püssim; Saksi church competition in 1989, winner Emil Urbel; Palivere church competition in 1989, winner A. Siim; Pärnu Methodist church competition in 1990, winner I. Klammer; Malminkartalo church competition in 1991, winners R. Puusepp and P. Urb; Harku Lake church competition in 1991, winner A. Siim etc). Most of them were never built, but they clearly expressed the chance to design in a more liberal and intellectual level than before. A modern church is no longer as canonical, and the process of creating a building contains a lot of playfulness and joy of experimenting. I am not totally certain, but it could be that there is a kind of respect for a church as an institution, as if a church required more responsibility than some other large building, such as a shopping centre or an office building. To design a church is a challenge. There are a great number of different churches and confessions in the newly independent Estonia. The modern religious market offers to the client whatever he fancies. In fact there are so many sects that their connection with religion in the most ordinary sense cannot be too strong. And they do not need special buildings, as nearly any larger room will do. The modern church advertises itself as a public institution with its doors wide open to everybody. No religion can afford to be very aggressive nowadays because people are sceptical and look with suspicion at almost everything, particularly at such a vague and non-specific area as contemporary religion tends to be. |
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Religious institutions are no longer as wealthy as they
used to be; the time of selling indulgences and trading is
over, although it is still worthwhile to do some wheeling and
dealing with church properties. Old churches are restored
and maintained by money coming from the state, towns or
various foundations. Old churches, after all, are nice to look
at, no matter what someone sees in them. As an embodiment
of such na•ve beauty, the church is understandable to
everyone: a grand structure, and with a tower too! With
modern churches, this kind of image is luckily much vaguer.
In the course of the 1990s, various small eclectic prayer
houses and meeting halls have emerged amidst the old
churches. The most extreme of these are perhaps the 'Kingdom
Halls' of the Jehovah's Witnesses, which resemble a
chain of cheap supermarkets, the network of which is doggedly
spreading all over the country.The widespread Methodist Church is one of the few which managed, on the eve of the 21st century, to commission architecturally interesting churches and build them as well. Churches commissioned by the Lutherans and the Baptists stay within the historical style of Estonian architecture, although they may emerge as fascinating projects and models. The Methodist Mission Centre (1994-2000) designed by Vilen Künnapu and Ain Padrik, seemingly built as a landmark between the Tallinn city centre and Kadriorg, is the biggest modern church in Estonia. A very demanding location between the dense city centre and the intimate milieu of Kadriorg accommodates a large building that has various functions besides being a church, such as a library and a gym. The dynamic white building, resembling a boat, fits within the designated plot of land a bit controversially; it is suggestively remarkable but perhaps pays a little too much attention to its bulky spatial programme. Popular observations that this was no church but a slanting tent set up by some drunks are clearly very reactionary. We will see the result of such a world view below. The Methodist Centre is exactly what the name suggests - a centre. People can no longer be bothered or know how to simply be in a church, muttering something dubious. The development of religious philosophy does not offer a direct contact with someone called God any more, but rather encourages and supports people in individual complex advancement. Modern church halls are good places for concerts, the more so since we are not keen on building special concert halls. Therefore you can go to a traditional church service in this place, listen to music (there almost always seems to be something religious in music anyway), sit in a cafˇ, borrow books from a library and even look after your body, not to mention going to Sunday school. And it is not so bad to think that there are people wishing to unite these rather profane activities in a church. Sacral buildings, with their peculiar architecture, add a lot to every town. |
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The other church we will look at is in Tartu, designed by
architect Indrek Allmann (2001-2003). Again it is a Methodist
church, more precisely the Estonian Methodist St Luke
congregation. Here, too, the prayer house has many other
functions, thus keeping the congregation active and offering
the user more diverse opportunities.There are several reasons why a person finds himself in church. One of the most popular reasons is the ever-increasing architecture tourism. Tartu in southern Estonia does not get half as many tourists as the capital city; tourists come here in order to count the pillars of the main building of the university, wonder at the slanting house and maybe have a picnic by the Emaj›gi River. Only a few visitors find their way to the modern church with its sensitive architecture, because the Methodist church in Tartu stands on a pretty clever spot - on a rather steep slope between trees. Unlike the Mission Centre in Tallinn, it is not visible from really anywhere. You have to make a special trip to see it, or even better - stumble on it by accident. Künnapu's and Padrik's religious centre is a powerful and large-scale piece of architecture in the middle of an urban setting, whereas Allmann's church stands relatively separately, in a specially adapted environment. It is modest, smooth, even perhaps intellectual, although it is difficult to say what this really means; maybe it is connected with the smooth curve of the copper-plated belfry against the background of other buildings... Minimalist form, the usage of light in modelling the space and a highly functional plan suit both a church and a modern work of architecture. Compared with the architectural competitions of churches in the early 1990s, this is not an especially special or extraordinary complex, but it has a very suggestive air now that it has been completed. Architecture invites curiosity. Church fathers have always been cunning; people go to church out of guilt, or for some other dubious reason. Now it seems that the church has decided to promote itself by offering an aesthetic experience via architecture. Excellent. |
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As we have seen, the modern church is not only a building
but a multifunctional complex that meets various needs:
not entirely unknown in history. The large Russian population
and its brand new multimillionaires in Tallinn have
been planning to build a huge complex of a Russian Orthodox
church in Lasnamäe. An architectural competition was
recently organised for that purpose. Quite unexpectedly the
favourite project was a traditional Russian complex adorned
with onion-shaped domes, little belfries, gate towers and
other types of 'historical' elements, as if a church in whatever
part of Russia were copy-pasted to Tallinn (architects
Oleg Zhemtshugov, Nikolai Djatko and Jevgeni Kolomenkin
from Estonia and Belarus). It is especially ironic against the
background of Lasnamäe's standard high-rise buildings - a
typical church in a typical environment!The low number of competition entries is really no excuse, nor is the unbelievably complicated task resulting from the extreme canonicity of the Russian Orthodox Church. The winning entry is pure chicanery, which seems to emphasise the superficiality of religious consumption of the simple inhabitants of the dormitory area. Things get even worse when we remember the dominating Alexander Nevski cathedral built on Toompea, one of the symbols of Russification. I sincerely hope that a sensible solution is found to that sensitive problem. The current winners boldly turn their backs on the modern church and on the idea of a contemporary church in general. A modern church is and will be a special building. Its architecture does not bear a specific religious message but realises architectural ideas, because however modern and youthful a contemporary church might be it is still a very traditional institution. Churches of the younger generation are much more virtual and do not need specific buildings. Still, there will be enough people keen on traditional values to last till Doomsday. Urmas Oja (1981), BA in art history at the Estonian Academy of Arts. Currently works at the Estonian Museum of Architecture and is editor in chief of magazine Eramu & Korter (private house and flat) |
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| Estonian Art 1/05 (16) | Published by the Estonian Institute 2005 | ISSN 1406-5711 (Online) | ISSN 1406-3549 (Printed version) | einst@einst.ee | tel: (372) 631 43 55 | fax: (372) 631 43 56 | |
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