Around 1000 AD Rudolphus Glaber, a Dominican monk, chronicled that Europe had seemed to throw off a gray cloak and put on “a white mantle of churches,” describing the surge in church buildings throughout the so-called “Dark Ages” of Medieval Europe. This would be exemplified in the Abbey of Cluny, the Cattedrale di Pisa, and the beginnings of the Notre Dame de Paris, Reims, and Chartres. These churches clad in white stone would have stood out across the medieval landscape, surrounded only by universities, small towns, and storied city buildings. They would not fight for a place in a city skyline; they would dominate it. 

This month, we have completed our circumnavigation of sacred buildings and are prepared to look upon their interiors at last. Before we do, let us give some thought to the anatomy of a church entrance, be it a classical rotunda or a gothic portal covered in sculptures and how, upon finally reaching some of these monumental structures, we are greeted as pilgrims finding rest.

Classical ornamentation on an entrance arose primarily for temple entrances. When we observe the Parthenon pediment figures in the British Museum, the large figures likely would have been painted and in vivid colors and bearing clear expressions like the Archaic Greek smile, symbolizing inner peace of a warrior in life and death.

These figures would greet a procession climbing the temple hill and be the only part of the temple that common people would see. The columns and layout of the entrance would be orderly and symmetrical, communicating the order of the universe. As Rome succeeded the artistic tradition of Greece, the association of the classical style with power and wisdom became cemented into history until the present.

Today, large pediments atop columns and entablatures in Latin are still widely used for public buildings such as banks, law courts, government buildings, universities, and museums, where an impression of solidity, reliability, and respectability is desirable. But in sacred buildings, often the desire is to link faith with tradition and wisdom.

Many congregational churches feature a classical entrance, hearkening back to their establishment in colonial America and their emphasis on democratic, Christian ideals where every man is equal under God. The entablature may still be in Latin, but referencing a Biblical verse or virtue. The classical style, along with typical placement on the town green, thus makes a strong statement of a town’s values at the very heart of the community.

The far more intricate Gothic style was adopted in the High Middle Ages as philosophy, engineering, and Islamic elements brought from home-bound crusaders created a confluence in architecture that pointed arches and sent spires soaring. The classic example of the south entrance to Chartres Cathedral showcases pointed arches, jamb figures and colonettes, archivolts, and trumeau figures coalescing into the tympanum at center. 

In this portal, the saints surrounding the entrance resemble a chorus angelorum welcoming visitors to the house of God either in joy or solemnity. Images of demons and angels on either side of Christ represent Judgement Day as a reminder for why you are entering the church at all. Often, a trumeau figure sits closer to eye-level and offers a more inviting and comforting image, typically of the Virgin Mary or the saint associated with the church.  All of these elements and figures create an entrance that is radiating outward to greet you.

This principle of enveloping visitors was carried further into Baroque and Rococo architecture, both private and religious. Repetition of elements, Gothic or classical, create an expansive façade that seems to never end and simultaneously impress and humble. Royal estates like San Souci, Versailles, and the Belvedere Palace were laid out wide and thin, perhaps even slightly concave, to appear larger as one slowly approached by carriage and eventually dominate your whole field of view.

A similar principle lies in Bernini’s colonnade around the Piazza Santo Pietro. The colonnades surrounding the piazza like the so-called “maternal arms of Mother Church” subtly trick the eye into thinking the façade of St. Peter’s is larger than it is. Make no mistake, it is large, but the colonnades recede slightly in size closer to the façade to make the contrast even starker and continue the Baroque love of architectural trickery. This pairing of façade and colonnade creates an impressive sight as one humbly approaches St. Peters.

Today, complex entrances are not as common but an entrance is no less symbolic, only the symbolism is in the material itself and simplicity rather than its arrangement and complexity. Glass, steel, and concrete communicate openness, strength, and the egalitarian qualities that come with both. The beauty of modern materials is that architects have a multitude of design avenues to choose from: create a recognizably traditional entrance (and commit to a matching exterior), build upon or play with these traditional elements to either create unorthodox mixes or modern renditions, or incorporate a sacred space with the surrounding modern architecture seamlessly.

An example of an intricate but classical entrance today is Duncan Stroik’s design for Christ Chapel on Hillsdale College’s campus. This rotunda projects from the otherwise flat façade and hints at elements within the space via its Tuscan order columns, engaged columns directly on the church exterior wall, central lantern, and vignettes of beautiful marbles. The underside of the dome is tan brick and the stone is Indiana limestone, both matching the exterior facades of the church and campus.

This covered entrance and the chapel façade play with classical elements and blend with the surrounding architecture seamlessly just as the materials, engaged pilasters, pediments, and stained glass connect it with centuries of tradition. A rounded entrance juts into the courtyard before it, much like Santa Maria della Pace in Rome, and perfectly frames the doors to inspire curiosity and feel welcoming, just as both a chapel and a college ought. This arrangement, and all building entrances, communicates what lies within and continues the tradition of architecture rooted in fitness, strength, and beauty.

While the word “gothic” in literature is characterized by mystery and horror, gothic architecture takes on a very different meaning. As a direct byproduct of the Dark Ages in France, gothic architecture was created to give its spectators a sense of wonder and inspiration. It is therefore no surprise that this style of architecture is commonly found in churches and chapels. Read More