Today, I will be analyzing St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, Rome, Italy.
Although I have attended the same church (non-denominational Christian) since I was three-years-old, I have never thought much of the physical worshipping space. The reason being that my childhood church has moved from building to building over the past two decades to accommodate the growing size of the congregation, usually renting out odd facilities such as an old bathing house and a public school cafeteria. With no preconceived notion of a dedicated church space, I was astonished to learn about St. Peter’s Basilica, in all of its grandeur and beauty, during my time studying architecture at the University of Notre Dame. And during the course of this past week, learning about the aesthetic experience and theological implications of architectural space, I have begun to consider more deeply the importance of the church building and the circulation from room to room in regards to Christian worship.
St. Peter’s Basilica has a long history of construction and renovation, but, as it stands now, its exterior façade and interior plan reflect that of Renaissance and Baroque styles. Before talking about the building itself, I would be committing a terrible injustice if I neglected to mention St. Peter’s Square, the open piazza directly in front of the Basilica, enclosed by two giant, curved Doric colonnades. The “maternal arms of the Mother Church” stretches out to embrace the faithful and people entering the space, creating a welcoming and reverent environment for respite or gathering. In reading Richard Kieckhefer’s Theology in Stone, when he speaks of Santa Maria Maggiore and how the entrance from the narthex to the central nave acts as a “traffic-stopping post” to “pause before an image of Christ,” incentivizing a forward movement with a new momentum, I thought of how St. Peter’s Square acts as this pausing entrance to the Basilica (27). As gorgeous and monumental as the Square is, the purpose of this space is to allow visitors a chance to wayfind and gaze upon the church, recollecting themselves in preparation of entering and worshipping in the holy building. It stands as an integral part of the movement of the church, if not part of the liturgical procession in worship.
Now moving onto the church itself, the reason I enjoy St. Peter’s Basilica so much is its rich and extensive history in designing the interior. Starting from the Old St. Peter’s, in this series of plans, you will see the thoughtful progression of design from some of the greatest architects in history:
As you can see, the church has shifted numerous times from a longitudinal plan to a centralized one, and eventually has made its way to the hybrid we recognize it as, today. Bramante’s plan suggests St. Peter’s to be an evangelical church, as it is consistent with the intimacy involved in hearing the Word, having such a symmetrical, centralized plan around the altar. In the next iteration of design, Raphael and Sangallo decided to add a nave leading to the altar so that the church may more properly use the space in procession, an essential part of carrying out the Liturgy in worship. However, the addition of so many small, subsidiary spaces diminished the clarity and uniformity, and, in turn, the power, that the original vision of St. Peter’s had. Michelangelo sought to reconnect the spaces but failed to accommodate for the act of procession, and so Maderno revised his plan to include a smaller nave in order to properly carry out worship, which is still the case today. And so, the hybrid nature of the plan suggests that St. Peter’s is both a sacramental and evangelical church, since it allows worshippers to participate in the process of spiritual life as they enter into the building and leave out to the world, while allowing them to also dwell in the Word.
Despite the many replannings, throughout its history, one thing has remained consistent — a centralized altar, directly aligned with the vertical axis from the entrance. As a burial site for Saint Peter, the church prioritized the altar in its plans (of New St. Peter’s) to reflect the significance of the space, where the tomb of the martyr is located directly beneath. This creates a new path, in addition to its axial one leading to the altar, that Kieckhefer refers to as circumambulating, around the altar. He says, such a path “forms the sacred area,” meaning the encompassed space is made sacred (21). To emphasize the sacrality of the altar, a prominent and ornate dome caps the holy space above. A dome, in general, is used in architectural design to allude to the cosmos, and in Christian design to direct gaze upon the High God, with its increased verticality and uniformity in roundness. With this in mind, the altar space in St. Peter’s is the greatest emblem of the presence of God within the church.
From St. Peter’s Square, to the entrance and interior of the Basilica, it is undeniable that the planning of the architectural spaces have been meticulously thought out in order to not only worship properly, but also contemplatively in and with God. The same can be said about the architectural design of the church, as it is considered one of the most beautiful and significant examples of Christian architecture. Starting from the Square, the use of column Orders connotes a mindset of ‘entering’, as columns are thought to be permeable walls. So, as you approach the Doric colonnades, you get the sense that there is something greater that you’re stepping into, and as you make your way through the open space, you are greeted with another series of columns on the exterior of the Basilica façade. These more articulated Composite columns terminate the hierarchy of Orders, completing the journey to the church, the destination of said ‘entering.’ In Dennis McNamara’s Catholic Church Architecture, it is made evident that columns are supposed to be thought of as architectural icons, since they function as more than structural components of a building. In his words, they are a “response to the nature of things in Nature,” which God is the creator of (98). The proportioning of the columns visibly reflect the harmony and beauty of His creation, and the invisible physical forces that carry structural loads exemplify His powerful order of Nature. With this said, the columns found in St. Peter’s Square and Basilica are icons because they transform God’s visible beauty into a revelation of His divine truth — that He is the all powerful Creator. This notion is further expressed by the colossal size of the Orders, triangulation of the pediment they carry on the exterior façade (allusion to the triune God), visual completion to the dome, and massive piers in the interior supporting the dome.
In the interior of the Basilica, an array of decorations and ornaments enrich the structural clarity and holy presence of God in the intended worship space. Examples of decoration that can be found are the fluting and Corinthian capitals of the pilaster strips and piers along the walls, the embedded niches of the walls, and the coffer design of the barreled and domed ceiling; and as for ornaments, religious artworks cover the ceiling, gilded moldings and inscriptions string along the walls, and prominent statues occupy the niches. There are so many more examples and all serve to sanctify the interior spaces. The details make it known to all that enter, you have arrived into a place of worship, the house of God, in which you must conduct yourself as a member of, through reverence, worship, and community.
In doing this unit’s readings and closely examining St. Peter’s Basilica, I have realized the important connection between worship and place of worship. Although I believe the individual and congregation can spiritually exist without a church building as magnificent as the Basilica, the experience of being in such a space provides a layer of deeper esteem and recognition of the divine God in our material world. The focus on classicism has also brought a revitalized energy to my own studies in architecture, as I am now made more aware of the symbolism and profound meaning of the classical language. And finally, before the course began, I set a goal for myself to connect my faith and my love for design, and I believe this unit and exercise has allowed me to do just so; for that, I am grateful.
