Week Eighty-Four - Out
Feeling a little under the weather this weekend. Recuperating and resting up for a busy next few weeks.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
A Slap in the Face
Week Eighty-Three - Saint Gertrude (Madeira)
4:30 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Gertrude. I'm worried. My enthusiasm for The Tour is waning, and I know exactly what the problem is - I've nearly exhausted my supply of "showstoppers," the historically-architecturally-artistically significant churches that I always look forward to. I'm stuck in the 'burbs; ergo, I'm stuck with either mid-20th century churches that have been awkwardly renovated and/or expanded (or, worse, not renovated at all) or brand-spanking new churches the size of football fields but devoid of inspiration. Sigh. What's a girl to do? Drive to Madeira, of course.
When I walked into St. Gertrude, the first word that came to mind was "gold." Golden hues and metallic golden detailing are everywhere. The columns are gold, the pattern on the ceiling is gold, the light fixtures are gold, the pattern on the ceiling around the light fixtures is gold. The back wall of the sanctuary, a soaring expanse of dark marble, contains randomly scattered gold stars, natch, but more noticeably, on that wall, is The Crucifix. I write it that way, with capital letters, because this crucifix is an entity all its own. I think I can honestly and fairly say I have never seen anything like it . . . not necessarily a good thing.
The St. Gertrude Crucifix. It's scary; it's intimidating. It's . . . multiple cross-beams, each of which suspends two square golden plates . . . or engravings. I don't know. There are twelve of these plates, suggesting to me that there may have been one for each of the disciples, but again, I don't know. Extending from the vertical beam, between each of the cross-bars, are these circular . . . things. You really just have to see it. I tried to draw a picture of it for My Husband the Heathen, but even my drawing skills (or lack thereof) never could do it justice. I best described it to him as a cross (no pun intended) between a fish skeleton and the Dodge Ram truck logo. Pretty sure I'm going to hell for that one.
St. Gert's falls into my former category of mid-20th century suburban churches. It has its good points, including a large and quite beautiful side altar flanked by numerous candles and set before a large painted mural of a woman who I can only assume is St. Gertrude, and its bad points - disproportionately small stained glass windows set into the walls in something of a checkerboard pattern.
This is clearly a big parish (the bulletin numbered 16 pages), and the physical church itself is also large. This particular mass was quite full but not with the usual Saturday afternoon majority of seniors - all age groups were well-represented. The entrance procession seemed a bit silly to me when the priest, servers, and lectors emerged from the sacristy to walk half-way up a side aisle, cut back towards the center at a break in the pews, and head back to the altar via the main aisle. It seemed to me a half-hearted attempt at an entrance procession that might as well have been skipped altogether.
St. Gertrude is the site of the priory for the Dominican friars, both priests and novice brothers, or the "Order of Preachers" - "O.P." Now, the next logical question is, "What's the difference between a friary and a priory?" Research at the ready: As do a few other religious orders, Dominicans live in a priory. A priory is governed by a superior called the Prior. Franciscans, however, do not live in a priory; they live in a friary. A friary is a house of brothers or a brotherhood. Apparently, the Franciscans aren't too keen on the whole concept of a prior as it implies that he is the first. The Franciscans' "first and last authority is always the holy Father Francis." I love that. They do not have a superior as the Dominicans do . . . in their priory. Religious smackdown.
Yeah, they're big on the Dominicans at St. Gertrude. Dominican sisters staff the parish school. I like the idea of nuns actually teaching and working in a parochial school. A little bit of retro . . . a little bit of nostalgia.
ATTENDANCE: Nearly fullWhen I walked into St. Gertrude, the first word that came to mind was "gold." Golden hues and metallic golden detailing are everywhere. The columns are gold, the pattern on the ceiling is gold, the light fixtures are gold, the pattern on the ceiling around the light fixtures is gold. The back wall of the sanctuary, a soaring expanse of dark marble, contains randomly scattered gold stars, natch, but more noticeably, on that wall, is The Crucifix. I write it that way, with capital letters, because this crucifix is an entity all its own. I think I can honestly and fairly say I have never seen anything like it . . . not necessarily a good thing.
The St. Gertrude Crucifix. It's scary; it's intimidating. It's . . . multiple cross-beams, each of which suspends two square golden plates . . . or engravings. I don't know. There are twelve of these plates, suggesting to me that there may have been one for each of the disciples, but again, I don't know. Extending from the vertical beam, between each of the cross-bars, are these circular . . . things. You really just have to see it. I tried to draw a picture of it for My Husband the Heathen, but even my drawing skills (or lack thereof) never could do it justice. I best described it to him as a cross (no pun intended) between a fish skeleton and the Dodge Ram truck logo. Pretty sure I'm going to hell for that one.
St. Gert's falls into my former category of mid-20th century suburban churches. It has its good points, including a large and quite beautiful side altar flanked by numerous candles and set before a large painted mural of a woman who I can only assume is St. Gertrude, and its bad points - disproportionately small stained glass windows set into the walls in something of a checkerboard pattern.
This is clearly a big parish (the bulletin numbered 16 pages), and the physical church itself is also large. This particular mass was quite full but not with the usual Saturday afternoon majority of seniors - all age groups were well-represented. The entrance procession seemed a bit silly to me when the priest, servers, and lectors emerged from the sacristy to walk half-way up a side aisle, cut back towards the center at a break in the pews, and head back to the altar via the main aisle. It seemed to me a half-hearted attempt at an entrance procession that might as well have been skipped altogether.
St. Gertrude is the site of the priory for the Dominican friars, both priests and novice brothers, or the "Order of Preachers" - "O.P." Now, the next logical question is, "What's the difference between a friary and a priory?" Research at the ready: As do a few other religious orders, Dominicans live in a priory. A priory is governed by a superior called the Prior. Franciscans, however, do not live in a priory; they live in a friary. A friary is a house of brothers or a brotherhood. Apparently, the Franciscans aren't too keen on the whole concept of a prior as it implies that he is the first. The Franciscans' "first and last authority is always the holy Father Francis." I love that. They do not have a superior as the Dominicans do . . . in their priory. Religious smackdown.
Yeah, they're big on the Dominicans at St. Gertrude. Dominican sisters staff the parish school. I like the idea of nuns actually teaching and working in a parochial school. A little bit of retro . . . a little bit of nostalgia.
DURATION: One hour
Monday, March 14, 2011
West Price Hill
Week Eighty-Two - Saint Teresa of Avila
4:00 Saturday afternoon mass, St. Teresa. I had been putting off visiting St. Teresa as long as possible only because it was the last of my "unvisited" churches within a reasonably close distance to my home. I had basically been saving it for that weekend when I wouldn't have time to make a cross-town trek for mass - as if there was going to be just one of those. I had also wanted to visit St. Teresa at their Sunday evening mass, something I always like, but kept putting it off because I was waiting for longer daylight hours to get a nice photo. Well, as they say, "The best laid plans . . . " Next thing you know, you're driving down Glenway Avenue on a Saturday afternoon.
I've passed St. Teresa's several times over the years. It's quite the landmark in West Price Hill . . . or Covedale . . . or whatever they're calling it these days. St. Teresa is situated at the corner of Glenway and Overlook Avenues, so I turned down Overlook expecting to subsequently turn into a parking lot. Fail. I ended up parking on the street which actually worked out quite well as far as making a quick get away after mass, but I'd still like to know if off-street parking does, in fact, exist. I might have to drive by next week just to take another look.
St. Teresa's looks big from the outside, so I don't know why I was surprised to discover how big it is on the inside. The high paneled ceiling, the long center aisle, the significant width really impressed me. What is this architectural gem doing sitting on the curb of Glenway Avenue? But more importantly, what is that little door and balcony on the front corner of the church all about?
St. Teresa's isn't particularly pretty, but there is something striking about it. The church interior (and exterior, for that matter) is predominantly gray, whether it's concrete, marble, stone, or limestone, I'm not sure. I immediately picked up on a Spanish vibe - after all, it is St. Teresa of Avila, as in Avila, Spain. There are arches everywhere - on the sides, in the windows, at the altar. Everywhere. I love the large lanterns on the side walls of the church more than anything at St. Teresa. They look absolutely perfect. Numerous stained glass windows depicting coloring book versions of the saints are interesting; I would have liked to have taken a closer look at all of them. Likewise, I spotted a statue off to the side of the altar that I wish I would have gotten a closer look at. There appeared to be a number of religious medals below it. I don't know who - or what - it was. A few other decorative items confused me though, namely, golden bowls (?) suspended at random intervals in the sanctuary, which itself was, unfortunately, the least attractive part of the church. A soaring, aqua-colored wall behind the altar, puncutated by odd, narrow stained glass windows was disappointing for a church with so much else going for it.
The mass itself was uneventful. A bit of Latin showed up occasionally which was a nice change of pace. I'm happy to report that, at St. Teresa, I actually preferred their piano over their organ. Piano accompaniment in a church is a tricky thing, and I've cringed over more than a few honky-tonk, rinky-dink pianos over the past year and a half. Maybe it was song choice, maybe it was the way the music director played, maybe it was the acoustics. Whatever it was was quite nice. I was hoping to see the much-beloved former pastor of St. I's back in action as he is now serving as pastor of St. Teresa. No such luck, although the celebrating priest seemed very nice. Maybe next time.
While searching online for a history of St. Teresa's parish (unsuccessfully), I did pause to read a bit about Saint Teresa herself. My favorite part was this: "Indeed, she [Teresa] was said to have been observed levitating during Mass on more than one occasion . . . If she felt God was going to levitate her body, she stretched out on the floor and called the nuns to sit on her and hold her down." Oh, the mental imagery . . .
St. Teresa's isn't particularly pretty, but there is something striking about it. The church interior (and exterior, for that matter) is predominantly gray, whether it's concrete, marble, stone, or limestone, I'm not sure. I immediately picked up on a Spanish vibe - after all, it is St. Teresa of Avila, as in Avila, Spain. There are arches everywhere - on the sides, in the windows, at the altar. Everywhere. I love the large lanterns on the side walls of the church more than anything at St. Teresa. They look absolutely perfect. Numerous stained glass windows depicting coloring book versions of the saints are interesting; I would have liked to have taken a closer look at all of them. Likewise, I spotted a statue off to the side of the altar that I wish I would have gotten a closer look at. There appeared to be a number of religious medals below it. I don't know who - or what - it was. A few other decorative items confused me though, namely, golden bowls (?) suspended at random intervals in the sanctuary, which itself was, unfortunately, the least attractive part of the church. A soaring, aqua-colored wall behind the altar, puncutated by odd, narrow stained glass windows was disappointing for a church with so much else going for it.
The mass itself was uneventful. A bit of Latin showed up occasionally which was a nice change of pace. I'm happy to report that, at St. Teresa, I actually preferred their piano over their organ. Piano accompaniment in a church is a tricky thing, and I've cringed over more than a few honky-tonk, rinky-dink pianos over the past year and a half. Maybe it was song choice, maybe it was the way the music director played, maybe it was the acoustics. Whatever it was was quite nice. I was hoping to see the much-beloved former pastor of St. I's back in action as he is now serving as pastor of St. Teresa. No such luck, although the celebrating priest seemed very nice. Maybe next time.
While searching online for a history of St. Teresa's parish (unsuccessfully), I did pause to read a bit about Saint Teresa herself. My favorite part was this: "Indeed, she [Teresa] was said to have been observed levitating during Mass on more than one occasion . . . If she felt God was going to levitate her body, she stretched out on the floor and called the nuns to sit on her and hold her down." Oh, the mental imagery . . .
ATTENDANCE: About half full
DURATION: One hour
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Flood Watch
Week Eighty-One - Guardian Angels
5:00 Saturday afternoon mass, Guardian Angels. Weather conditions made travel to the other side of town less than ideal this weekend, but travel we did. It was that same persistent and, occasionally, heavy rain, however, that made for the most interesting part of the trip. More on that later. First, "GA."
The Guardian Angels complex is prominently situated on Beechmont Avenue in Mount Washington, directly across from McNicholas High School. You can't miss either. Guardian Angels definitely falls into the Big Church category. It's tall, it's wide, and it's deep. Even though the pews were only about half filled at this particular mass, there were a lot of people in attendance. After returning to my own seat after receiving communion, I was astonished by the number of people still in line after me - and that was just a fraction of the congregation.
Guardian Angels has a lot of pews, pews as far as the eye can see, pews so close together that it's difficult getting into a kneeling position or rising from one. Sections of pews surround the altar on all four sides. The sections are not all of the same size, but combined, they're a force to be reckoned with. I sat on the front side of the altar, the largest of the seating areas. Two areas of pews on either side of the altar were smaller but still substantial. The smallest of the sections was positioned behind the altar. Ironically, it was also the fullest. Not sure what the draw there was - a longing for pre-Vatican II days or quick access to the closest door to the parking lot.
GA isn't really much to see - if you can see it. The sanctuary was kept ridiculously dim (and cold) until just before mass began. Maybe they were saving on those electric bills - admirable - but I was personally worried about My Husband the Heathen nodding off before the show even started. From the Let's-Be-Literal Department, both the altar and the lectern have angels on them. I'll take a leap of faith here and say they are guardian angels. Yeah, the focus here is definitely on function - seating - over aesthetics.
I did immediately notice something different at Guardian Angels which now has me thinking back to many of the other churches I've visited. From my perspective at GA, the statue of Mary was on the right of the altar, and the statue of Joseph was on the left. It didn't look right, and I kept wondering during mass if it was, in fact, "right." Back at home, a quick bit of research revealed that there are no set rules about placement of statues in a Catholic church, including statues of Mary and Joseph. However, I also found out that it is traditional to place Mary at Jesus' right hand; that is, from the perspective of Jesus on the cross, Mary should be on his right and Joseph should be on his left. Based on the location of GA's crucifix, it looks like these east siders are going non-traditional. So, there you go. I bet you'll look next time you go to mass to see where the statues of Mary and Joseph are placed.
Meanwhile, back in the car . . . Given the substantial rains over the past few days, my husband took advantage of our location to turn our drive home into something of a sight-seeing tour. After an unnvering drive over a bridge spanning the Little Miami River (OH. MY. GOSH. THE. WATER. IS. RIGHT. THERE.), we drove past one of Cincinnati Public School's newest buildings, Riverview East Academy in the East End. We always refer to the school as the "school on stilts" because it is, very literally, on stilts. Although situated just a short distance from the banks of the Ohio, the pavement below the school was still flood-free. A final stop in the parking lot of Saint Rose Church evoked additional disbelief as we marveled at the increased breadth and height of the Ohio River. I always take for granted the fact that we live in a river city (wait . . . you mean, every city doesn't have a river?). Oh, I'm sure the folks who live and work next to the Ohio weren't too happy over the weekend, but, deep down, I think they would have to agree - having a river here really is something special.
ATTENDANCE: About half-full
The Guardian Angels complex is prominently situated on Beechmont Avenue in Mount Washington, directly across from McNicholas High School. You can't miss either. Guardian Angels definitely falls into the Big Church category. It's tall, it's wide, and it's deep. Even though the pews were only about half filled at this particular mass, there were a lot of people in attendance. After returning to my own seat after receiving communion, I was astonished by the number of people still in line after me - and that was just a fraction of the congregation.
Guardian Angels has a lot of pews, pews as far as the eye can see, pews so close together that it's difficult getting into a kneeling position or rising from one. Sections of pews surround the altar on all four sides. The sections are not all of the same size, but combined, they're a force to be reckoned with. I sat on the front side of the altar, the largest of the seating areas. Two areas of pews on either side of the altar were smaller but still substantial. The smallest of the sections was positioned behind the altar. Ironically, it was also the fullest. Not sure what the draw there was - a longing for pre-Vatican II days or quick access to the closest door to the parking lot.
GA isn't really much to see - if you can see it. The sanctuary was kept ridiculously dim (and cold) until just before mass began. Maybe they were saving on those electric bills - admirable - but I was personally worried about My Husband the Heathen nodding off before the show even started. From the Let's-Be-Literal Department, both the altar and the lectern have angels on them. I'll take a leap of faith here and say they are guardian angels. Yeah, the focus here is definitely on function - seating - over aesthetics.
I did immediately notice something different at Guardian Angels which now has me thinking back to many of the other churches I've visited. From my perspective at GA, the statue of Mary was on the right of the altar, and the statue of Joseph was on the left. It didn't look right, and I kept wondering during mass if it was, in fact, "right." Back at home, a quick bit of research revealed that there are no set rules about placement of statues in a Catholic church, including statues of Mary and Joseph. However, I also found out that it is traditional to place Mary at Jesus' right hand; that is, from the perspective of Jesus on the cross, Mary should be on his right and Joseph should be on his left. Based on the location of GA's crucifix, it looks like these east siders are going non-traditional. So, there you go. I bet you'll look next time you go to mass to see where the statues of Mary and Joseph are placed.
Meanwhile, back in the car . . . Given the substantial rains over the past few days, my husband took advantage of our location to turn our drive home into something of a sight-seeing tour. After an unnvering drive over a bridge spanning the Little Miami River (OH. MY. GOSH. THE. WATER. IS. RIGHT. THERE.), we drove past one of Cincinnati Public School's newest buildings, Riverview East Academy in the East End. We always refer to the school as the "school on stilts" because it is, very literally, on stilts. Although situated just a short distance from the banks of the Ohio, the pavement below the school was still flood-free. A final stop in the parking lot of Saint Rose Church evoked additional disbelief as we marveled at the increased breadth and height of the Ohio River. I always take for granted the fact that we live in a river city (wait . . . you mean, every city doesn't have a river?). Oh, I'm sure the folks who live and work next to the Ohio weren't too happy over the weekend, but, deep down, I think they would have to agree - having a river here really is something special.
ATTENDANCE: About half-full
DURATION: 50 minutes
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