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New chapel elevates and then transforms First Unitarian Church
By Robert W. Duffy
WHEN THE FIRST UNITARIAN CHURCH BEGAN a process of self-examination in 1993, the work had
a distinctly architectural name -- "Blueprint 2000."
The intention was to settle on the main issues facing the congregation and to make decisions about
solutions and progress.
As it turned out, "blueprint" was an appropriate name. Architecture -- some old, some new -- was
recognized as imperative to the church's development.
"Unitarians love meetings," Joanne Boulton said with a laugh, "and at a fellowship dinner and meeting
we decided that to adequately solve the myriad needs of our church, we had to build."
Eventually, Boulton would become chair of the building committee. And growing out of the committee's
work was a conspicuous, satisfying and extraordinary edifice, a new chapel.
To back up a bit, the First Unitarian Church has been a fixture at Waterman Boulevard and Kingshighway
since 1917, occupying a fine stone building designed by William B. Ittner, a prolific and gifted
St. Louis architect. In the 1960s, offices and classrooms were added, designed by Smith-Entzeroth.
Part of the challenge to the architects of Powers Bowersox Associates Inc. on the latest project was
to bring the old Ittner building, the not-so-old addition and the new chapel together harmoniously.
The chapel was designed to serve the church's religious education department as a place for children's
worship services, but it is also meant to accommodate small weddings, memorial services and summer
services.
The chapel building includes two classrooms downstairs and is connected to the '60s building, which
in turn connects to the church.
Some alterations were made to the main sanctuary as part of the building program, including an
enlargement of the chancel to accommodate more singers in the choir. Music is an important part of
the church's program, as are acoustics. One function served by the chapel is to insulate the main
sanctuary from traffic noise on Kingshighway. Also, before this year, the church building had no air
conditioning. With careful attention paid to acoustics, the new system is almost inaudible.
The chapel, however, in no way resembles a mere noise baffle. The public face the chapel puts forth
is its east facade, looking toward Kingshighway. It is dignified and restrained. But the building's
garden side, on the west, is entirely and gloriously airy and open.
This side features a wall of 10 hinged glass doors. Closed, they form a transparent wall, allowing
in abundant light. Standing open, they not only bring light and fresh air inside but also extend the
chapel into the world.
Visitors approach this side of the building through the Memorial Garden, where ashes of some deceased
members repose, sheltered by a big tree. The sense of churchness and architectural drama is emphasized
by a modernist campanile, a bell tower, dressed in copper shingles. The tower is solid and impressive,
reminiscent of medieval Italian towers. It is bell-free at the moment, awaiting the generosity of a
donor, said architects Fred Powers and William Bowersox.
The chapel's interior is airy and spacious, about 40 feet square, with room for 100 worshipers. It is
plain, but elegant rather than austere. The floor is a light oak parquet, with squares set so the
pattern is linear instead of angular. The doors are oak as well. The foyer floor is stained black
concrete.
The chapel's interior walls are covered with hard-surface acoustical paneling material, painted white.
The suspended ceiling forms its own geometry and contrast with the space above it. The recessed lights
overhead were set in what appears to be a random pattern, bringing a sense of spontaneity to a place
of formal geometries. A rank of heating and cooling puffers on the rear wall of the chapel creates an
interesting machine-age motif, a decorative element evolving out of the functional.
A generous band of clerestory windows separates walls and ceiling, providing even more light inside
and a crown to the exterior.
The irregular-length stones were laid with generous joints, about three-quarters to one inch thick.
Although the building is not large, the roughness of the stone and thickness of these joints speak
of massiveness and permanence. The impenetrability of the stone is contrasted to, yet dances with,
the building's glassy transparency.
Eden limestone from southeastern Wisconsin was chosen, and it is close in color to the stone of the
1917 building. And close-but-not-a-match is part of the magic and the success of this building, and
indeed, the whole architectural project.
Building committee member David Whiteman said, "We tried to give the architects a lot of control over
their decisions, and we deferred to them, and allowed them to discover what they wanted to do."
For example, Whiteman said the bell tower did not meet with universal approval at the church. It
proved to be one of the great visual features of the entire program. As Whiteman said, it calls
attention to the building from outside and inside. "It adds an exclamation point," he said.
Modestly and authoritatively, the chapel takes its place among the grandeur of Holy Corners to its
north and the new Central Reform Congregation's synagogue directly across Waterman.
It is a clean, direct, visually confident building. It fits with the older church buildings and its
architectural neighbors because it is a good building, not because it attempts to insinuate itself
into the void between the old and the recent by making mimetic gestures to both. While it connects
the older buildings with similar textures and tones, it also comes to them with independence and
originality. This admirable chapel doesn't blend in, it elevates, and thus transforms.
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