The Project goes downtown yet again! This time we visit the Episcopalian parish of St. Clement, which for 150 years has ministered to Center City. And, I suspect, to museum goers who wander in lost from the Parkway.
St. Clement’s design is indicative of many protestant churches. You see, it…wait, you know what? There’s a better way to do this.
Church Project Theorem #21: How the $#%@ do I get in here?
Ah, there we go. How the $#%@ do I get in here? refers to the tendency of Protestant churches to have off-kilter layouts. Roman Catholic churches—at least the ones worth seeing—are designed fairly simply. The façade of the building always faces front, and is the most prominent and most ornate part of the exterior. It’s designed so there’s no mistaking the fact that THAT is where you are supposed to enter. Ok, fine, most of them have side doors, too. But my point is that, at the very least, you have a clear idea of where you’re supposed to go.
Protestant churches, by contrast, tend to utilize strange constructions, with multiple sides and crazy angles. There’s not always a focal entry point, and it’s not always easy to tell where to go. That’s not necessarily a knock against Protestant architecture. They just like to make entering and exiting a little interesting.
That’s the striking thing about St. Clement. The church is at 20th & Appletree; in a Catholic setup, the façade would face outward to 20th street. Instead, Clement is done almost in reverse. The rear of the church faces outward, with the apse taking the central position and a spire positioned awkwardly next to it. In case you’re wondering where the façade actually is…don’t. There isn’t one. What would be the façade butts up against another building, so the main entrance is actually placed diagonally near the start of the nave. Once you go in you have to make two right turns to enter the church.
Funky setup aside, Clement is a decent if unspectacular entry. The church has some nice things going for it. The reddish / brown stone construction is cool, and the sanctuary and altars are pretty ornate. Mostly, though, the interior is done in a bland white plaster with (ack!) wooden beams. What’s interesting is that the apse isn’t done in plaster, but instead just stays with the reddish / brown stone. I actually like that look better. It’s very medieval, if you will, and the design could have been stunning if the church kept it throughout. Plaster is just really difficult to pull off unless it’s heavily ornamented.
Otherwise, there’s not much worth writing home about. Could it be a case of Old v. Older Churches? Perhaps, as the building is 150 years old. Of course, St. Augustine is even older, and that turned out fairly well. I think it’s just a misplaced reliance in white plaster and dark wooden ceiling beams. That’s never a combination for success.
Still, it’s worth seeing. There are some neat touches, and there’s a lot of history here. Just don’t expect to be blown away architecturally.
Size Rating: 7.5 out of 10
Ornamentation Rating: 6.5 out of 10
Overall Design Rating: 7 out of 10 crosses
