Abandoned church with mannequins of parishioners, Netherlands. How to turn an abandoned church into a kindergarten or brewery. Soviet naval testing station in Makhachkala, Russia
In the last decade, adaptive architecture has become increasingly popular in Europe and the United States, thanks to which old buildings are given a new life. Architects, engineers and designers study the environment, studying the energy efficiency of buildings and interactive systems. One of the directions of this trend was the adaptation of abandoned churches and temples. The Village learned how to transform a former worship building into a day care center, library or performance venue.
Zwolle, Netherlands
The Dominican Church in the Dutch city of Zwolle, also known as the Church of the Brothers (Broerenkerk), has been empty for more than three decades - since 1982. In 2007, the Waanders company acquired the building and decided to organize a large bookshop and cafe inside, while preserving the original architecture of the Gothic church. The project was carried out by architects from Utrecht BK Architecten, and the Norwegian master Kjell Nupen restored the broken stained glass windows. The general structure and interior of the monument remained intact. The color scheme of the interior was determined by the restrained style of the church, and the working organ remained the dominant feature of the entire interior space. Book galleries were placed on either side of the nave, and the empty space was removed from the shopping area to accommodate concerts and charity events.
We wanted the remodeled space to have a modest look and to highlight our respect for church architecture. Therefore, the floors of the book gallery are divided into wings, revealing a vertical column of columns. The structures of the galleries are in no way connected with the engineering of the church, so if necessary, they can be completely removed without damaging the walls of the building.
Munster, Germany
The 1962 modernist St. Sebastian's Church in Münster was the visual centerpiece of the entire area's development. The municipalities secularized the land and transferred the monument into the ownership of the kindergarten. In 2013, the architectural group Bolles+Wilson completely remodeled the historic building. The interior of the church was divided into two levels for children of different age groups, the roof was covered with translucent modules, providing natural light and improving ventilation. A special covering was laid on the floor, which is usually used on sports grounds. An extension was made to the church building with offices, a kitchen, a technical room and a room for parents, where they can wait for their child and watch him play from the observation room.
Buffalo, USA
To preserve the St. Vincent Church building, built back in 1926, the city authorities transferred it to Canisian College in Buffalo, which needed a cultural center. The main architectural solution in this project was the sound-reflecting plates installed under the dome. Thanks to them, concerts can be held in the building. The authors of the church reconstruction project were awarded seven awards in the field of architecture and design, including the National AIA Honor Award for Interior Architecture.
Cologne, Germany
The ancient Romanesque church of Saint Columba was almost completely destroyed during the Second World War. The ruins became a memorable place for Cologne; in 1950, a chapel was erected there and a memorial square was laid out. In the early 1990s, the territory of the church was transferred to the Museum of the Diocese of Cologne to house part of the exhibition.
Swiss Peter Zumthor took up the project of reconstructing the church in 1997. He had to restore old buildings and erect several new ones - for a large exhibition space. The architect chose gray brick to unite the disparate parts of the building. They were handmade by the Danish master Peterson Tegl - he burned the finished bricks along with charcoal to give them a warm shade. Zumthor also added complexity to the brickwork by leaving openings in the façade to allow diffused light to enter. The museum itself now consists of 16 separate exhibition spaces and a secret garden located in the middle of the building.
Pittsburgh, USA
St. John's Baptist Church and Convent in the Lawrenceville neighborhood of Pittsburgh was built in the early 20th century. Since the 1950s, the economic situation in the city has changed dramatically: several large factories have closed, which led to a large outflow of population. In 1993, the diocese decided to close the church and monastery because it could no longer be supported financially or socially. The historic buildings were purchased by developer Sean Casey for $191,200. This was the first time in American history that a diocese sold a religious institution for money.
The Pittsburgh Preservation Center designated the St. John's complex as a historic landmark, so the building could not be demolished. In 2006, Sean Casey opened a brewery and restaurant in the former church. Legally, the owner of the building had every right to do this, since he left the interiors of the church untouched. But the diocese reacted to this decision extremely aggressively, accusing Casey of desacralization. The diocese and the municipal urban conservation center entered into an agreement: from now on, every building sold by the diocese will be included in the National Register of Historical Monuments, and any redevelopment project must be agreed upon with former ministers of the church.
The Lawrenceville church's adaptation remains one of the most controversial. Advocates for the project argue that the opening of Brew Works has improved the economic health of the area. 85 new jobs were created, real estate prices rose sharply in the surrounding areas, and nearby residential complexes were immediately bought up by investors from New York.
KSENIA MALIC
art critic, employee of the State Hermitage
In Europe, examples of church buildings being adapted for new functions include monuments erected during the post-war reconstruction era. Until the end of the 1960s, religious communities acted as active customers, especially in those countries where the influence of Protestant denominations was strong. In the Netherlands, for example, about 1,500 churches and chapels were built in a couple of decades. But already in the early 1970s, the number of believers and parishioners began to decline. Colonies gained independence, the national composition of society changed. Hundreds of buildings, many of which have protected status as monuments of modernism, have fallen into disrepair. Practice shows that Protestants are willing to compromise: churches are reconstructed for the needs of local social services and school centers. There are even some rather tactless examples of cathedrals being converted into residential condominiums. For a Catholic parish to transfer to a secular organization the building in which the sacrament was celebrated is, of course, an almost unbearable measure.
There is something eerily beautiful about the ruins of these old abandoned churches, which were abandoned at one time for a variety of reasons. Some of them played an important historical role in times of war and civil unrest, while others became “victims” of the rapidly changing modern world. All these churches have long been abandoned and fallen into disrepair - but even in this state they remain amazingly beautiful.
1. Geamana, Romania
The Romanian village of Geamana was completely destroyed - flooded with runoff from a local open-pit copper mine. Today, the ruins of the village church rise above the surface of the poisonous red water.
2. Yaropolets, Russia
The Church of the Kazan Mother of God, now abandoned, was once the only two-domed church in Russia. It was built by Field Marshal Zakhar Chernyshev, Governor General of Moscow, on his estate.
3. Caen, France
The beautiful ruins of the ancient church of Saint-Etienne can still be found in Caen, France. Both the church and much of the city were destroyed during the fighting in Normandy during World War II.
4. Rome, Italy
The ruins of the Church of St. Bonaventure are located where the village of Monterano once stood. The village and its inhabitants were burned down by soldiers of the French army during a brutal surprise attack at the end of the 18th century.
5. Detroit, Michigan
Detroit was once the tenth largest city in the United States, but due to a lack of jobs and high unemployment rates, Detroit experienced an economic crisis that ended in bankruptcy in 2013. Today, many Detroit buildings stand abandoned.
6. Ross Island, India
Ross Island, part of the Andaman Islands, was occupied by Britain during World War II and was used as a local center of power. In 1941, an earthquake on the island destroyed almost all the buildings, which is why Ross was eventually abandoned. Today, in the overgrown jungle, only ruins can be found, reminiscent of the once luxurious buildings of the island.
7. Coimbra, Portugal
The Portuguese monastery of Santa Clara a Velha was built in the 14th century on the banks of the Mondego River in the city of Coimbra. Due to constant floods in the 17th century, the structure was abandoned. Not long ago, the monastery was completely reconstructed and is now open to tourists who can appreciate its former beauty.
8. Bodie, California
Bodie is one of the many towns where the Gold Rush once began. Located in California's Sierra Nevada Mountains, Bodie only flourished because gold was discovered nearby in 1876. However, as with all other Gold Rush towns, once the gold ran out, so did Bodie's prosperity. The decline of the city began at the dawn of the 20th century, and today Bodie is one of many ghost towns, with only numerous abandoned buildings (including a wooden church) reminding of its former splendor.
An unfinished church, a reminder of what was never realized, lies in the town of St. George on the northeastern tip of Bermuda. Construction began in 1874, after the ancient church that stood on this site was destroyed by a storm. However, construction was soon stopped due to the decision to reconstruct the old church instead of building a new one. And in 1926, another storm destroyed most of what they had time to build. Today these ruins are part of an area declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
10. Dumfries, Scotland
The picturesque ruins of the cathedral church are located in the vicinity of Dumfries. Built back in 1160, the church was abandoned at the beginning of the 18th century, but today the remains of the building are protected as a historical heritage site and are open to tourists.
11. Gary, Indiana
Once the thriving capital of the steel-making state of Indiana and, at the same time, the birthplace of Michael Jackson, the city of Gary has experienced a severe economic crisis. In just a few years, the city's population has dropped by more than 25%, and according to 2013 statistics, a third of all houses are abandoned, as are many public buildings - including the Methodist Church.
12. Ani, Türkiye
A long time ago, the city of Ani was the capital of the medieval Armenian (Ani) kingdom, located on the territory of modern Armenia and Eastern Turkey. In the period from 961 to 1045, the capital played a vital role in the economy of the state, being located at the crossroads of many trade routes, and the buildings and structures that were erected in Ani were built using the most advanced technologies in the whole world at that time. At the turn of the 16th and 17th centuries, Ani was completely abandoned, but the ruins of the once magnificent “City of 1001 Churches” still remain.
Amersfoort, in the central part of the Netherlands, 55 kilometers southeast of Amsterdam, is a typical Dutch town with neat houses, neat streets and heavy car and bicycle traffic. The church in the name of St. Cornelius the Centurion is located on a wide green street, very close to the station. The church building, rented by the community from the Old Catholics, is surrounded by luxurious mansions, which are mostly used for offices.The parish in Amersfoort was founded in 1983 by priest Stefan Bakker, who remains the pastor of the church to this day. During this time, the community had to change the location of its services eleven times.
“This is deadly for the parish,” Father Stefan told me. “That is why our plans include the construction of an Orthodox church in Amersfoort.
Reference . Protopresbyter Stefan Bakker was born into a non-religious family, but his parents sent him to study at a Protestant school. He converted to Orthodoxy at the age of 17. In 1969 he was ordained a deacon, and in 1975 a priest. Served in Sint-Hubert, Deventer and Amsterdam. Then, with the blessing of Archbishop Jacob (Ackerdijk) of The Hague and the Netherlands, he organized a parish in Amersfoort. In 1987, Father Stefan left the Moscow Patriarchate and moved to the jurisdiction of Constantinople.
“The first time I attended an Orthodox service was in Groningen,” says Father Stefan. – I didn’t really like it: crosses, censers, people in vestments - too Catholic. But still there was something else. I liked the atmosphere itself, especially when the parishioners gathered together after the service. People were very open. I asked questions and, what amazed me, I received comprehensive answers to them. Then I was offered to sing in the choir. In general, they managed to interest me.
Why did the Dutchman who converted to Orthodoxy decide to take holy orders?
“They asked me about this,” Father Stefan answered simply. – Parishioners from Amsterdam wanted me to become their priest.
In a conversation with me, the priest talked a lot about Dutch Orthodoxy, about how the Orthodox faith should be open to the native inhabitants of the Netherlands.
“In the last ten years we have noticed a not very good trend,” he says. – We see national groups establishing “national” churches. A Serbian “island” appears, a Romanian “island”, a Bulgarian “island”, and all of them are deepened into themselves. We are losing a significant part of Orthodoxy, we are taking a step back!
The multinational parish in Amersfoort is open to everyone: the rector does not need a new “island”. Divine services are performed in Dutch, although Father Stefan recites certain litanies in other languages (most often in Church Slavonic and Arabic). Sunday liturgies are usually attended by 40–50 people. The linguistic feature of the parish is not only a recognition of the fact that it is located in the center of Holland, but also an expression of its missionary orientation.
“Yes, I do missionary work because Christ calls us to evangelize,” Father Stefan emphasized. – How do I do this? First of all, you can only teach people by example. That's why my wife and I are very sincere in our lives. We teach our parishioners to be an example in the family and at work. It takes a lot of time and requires repetition. But if you want to build the Church - not a building, but the body of Christ - you must have sincere Christianity. Secondly, I establish contacts with Protestant colleges and universities, and come to them to talk about Orthodoxy. Thirdly, we take an active part in the religious life of Amersfoort. We participate in ecumenical activities, being co-founders of the regional Council of Churches.
– Do you think that in this way it is possible to convey information about Orthodoxy to representatives of other faiths? – I’m interested.
– This is quite possible, but our primary task is different. First of all, we must ensure that various heresies are not proclaimed in the name of the Church. If a sect or other Church makes a statement, we make sure that they do not speak on behalf of all Christianity... In addition, we have extensive experience working with Islam. We know more about him than university professors. We can explain a lot by opening people's eyes.
– When talking about Islam, do you mean negative experience?
- Yes, there is that too. One of the components of our missionary work is an Internet site through which anyone can ask questions. Muslims also ask questions, we answer them. The results are noticeable... So, one of the buildings that we rented earlier was painted with animal excrement. The second one was shot... If you study Islam, you cannot help but admit that Muslims are our enemies. But Christ commands us to love our enemies! How to do it? This is the problem. For one must love not in theory, but in practice. Christianity is not a theory! Muslims come to us and we baptize them. Muslims fly to us from Egypt because the Christians there are afraid to baptize them. Just recently we baptized three Muslims. From Amersfoort.
“But this can create problems for themselves, complicate their relationships with relatives,” I press on the “political correctness” so beloved in the West.
- Yes, I know. We can even talk about murders. But still, Muslims come and ask for baptism. You will not be afraid if you know who He is and what He offers.
« Yes, father is probably right,” I think. And frankly: few of the clergy are able to say that Muslims are enemies. We often hear, especially in the West, placid talk about “common roots” and “mutual respect.” But mutual respect should not lead to betrayal of the foundations of one’s faith. It is clear that such a principled view of Islam provokes a harsh reaction from some of its representatives. Probably representatives of “liberal Holland” – feminists and sexual minorities – react to orthodox Christianity in the same way. I ask Father Stefan a question. And I get a discouraging answer: “We have a very good homosexual. He sings in the choir." At these words, the priest coughed violently. Accidentally?
– The Church is not against homosexuals. We don't know why they were created this way. God is against practice.
– But this person doesn’t practice?
– Ask him yourself.
– Have you ever asked yourself?
– What I know, I know from confession.
“Yes, this man is Orthodox,” Father Stefan confirmed once again. – He is a good, active parishioner. And you will find such people in the parishes in Deventer, Groningen. We have repentance and we must teach people how to behave. It's a long process. If you throw a homosexual out, you will make a big mistake... You asked about feminists. We have very active Orthodox feminists. And in general, we should seriously think about the role of women in the Church. I believe that a commission of experienced bishops should be created, which should make a certain decision. I don't know what direction their work will take, but I'm sure they have many questions to answer. We are a living Church, not a museum.
I freeze in thought. What is it: a sincere desire for Christian mission, as Father Stefan understands it, or the ineradicable influence of Dutch liberalism? When, at the end of the meeting, the priest told me that he had twice turned to Patriarch Bartholomew of Constantinople with a request to consider the issue of “returning” (that’s right!) to the married episcopate, I thought that the priest was perhaps a liberal, and a conscientious one at that. And it reminds us of Soviet renovationists.
“Christianity is not dying in Europe,” Father Stefan is convinced. “The time has come for us to become saints and live the lives of saints.” You will see that people will turn to faith; albeit slowly, but they will. The commandment “Thou shalt not kill” is not a command, it is a prediction: “The time will come when you will kill no more.” In Western Europe, the third generation does not know what war is. But not long before that, we were killing each other every ten years. Yes, we export wars, but still the situation is improving.
"Here you go! And why is this better? – I thought. They used to kill each other, but now they “help” kill others. There is some confusion.
– And in general, just as I hope that all Muslims will become moderate (the more the better!), I hope and pray that Christians will become fanatics. Fanatics in love. Once I baptized an adult and said to him: “John, I hope that this empty space on the wall is intended for an icon. Your icon." We are called to holiness. This is what I work and live for!
I left Father Stefan with mixed feelings. I was captivated by the sincerity of his missionary zeal and desire to burn in the good “fanaticism” of Christian love, but there were “cats scratching at my soul”: “Orthodox” feminism, married episcopate... « For there must also be differences of opinion among you, so that skillful understandings may be revealed among you,” wrote the Apostle Paul. But where does dissent end and heresy begin?
However, I was grateful to Father Stefan for the fact that he directly and frankly said what he thought, without hypocrisy or dodging.
Asten: an island of tranquility on Dutch soil
 |
Although public transport in the Netherlands is excellent, getting to the monastery is not easy: even such a small country has its “abandoned” corners. From Eindhoven I took the train to Durn station, and from there the monastery car picked me up. For about half an hour we meandered along village roads (though of excellent quality) and finally arrived at a beautiful estate surrounded by greenery. The monastery hotel turned out to be a neat, clean house - of course, with all the amenities, including hot water. At meals, pilgrims and guests were seated together with the nuns: there was no separation, everyone had the same food. Lean, but tasty, with an abundance of vegetables and fruits. The hotel offers pilgrims a small kitchen with a samovar, tea, coffee, jam and sweets: you definitely won’t go hungry.
But at the morning service, which begins here at 5 o’clock, it was a bit difficult. The nuns themselves served, without a priest (in a lay rite), and almost the entire service was conducted in Dutch. My mind, already accustomed to services in English, Greek and partly French, almost did not perceive the sound of liturgical texts in Dutch. I got confused during the service, lost the thread, and began to feel sleepy. Although everything was orderly and reverent, without a realistic understanding of what was being read and sung, I felt obvious discomfort.
“Yes, the main language of worship is Dutch,” Abbess Maria confirmed in a conversation with me. - We are in Holland. We sometimes use English if part of the service is not translated into Dutch. Almost everything has been translated into English. The Liturgy is served three times a week by Father Matthew (Arnold), who cares for our monastery.
Reference . Abbess Maria was born in The Hague in 1944. At the age of 18 she was baptized into the Orthodox Church. At the age of 21 she entered the Hague monastery, where she spent seven years. Then mother lived in monasteries in Serbia (two years) and Greece (eleven years). In 1986 she returned to the Netherlands. In 1988, benefactors purchased a farmstead for my mother in Asten, where she was able to move in January 1989. This year is considered the official founding date of the monastery in honor of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
“Although I grew up in a non-religious family, I developed an interest in religion in my childhood, partly because I studied at a Protestant school,” says Abbess Maria. – I prayed to God to show me the true path. After all, a priest of any denomination - Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox - will claim that his faith is the best. So I prayed that the Lord would give me a special sign. God pointed me to the Orthodox Church. Already at the age of 15, I knew that I would convert to Orthodoxy as soon as possible. But I was baptized at 18: at this age you are independent enough to make personal religious choices. And this is even more important when parents are against it.
“Ever since I was 16–17 years old, I have been thinking about monasticism,” mother continues. – But I came to the monastery at the age of 21: at this age you are free to manage your life. I didn't want to offend my parents. I can’t say that they approved of my choice, although, as free-thinking people, they fully agreed that everyone has the right to choose what they want.
Mother settled in a monastery in The Hague. At that time it was the only Orthodox monastery in all of Holland. But, after living in The Hague for several years, the young novice realized that staying there for the rest of her life was not her calling. The fact that the monastery, located in the center of the city, was combined with a parish, and the nuns worked in secular jobs, also played a role.
“For me this was not entirely acceptable,” says the abbess. “Still, I thought it was better for a nun not to go out into the world.” I used to often visit the Lesna Monastery in France and noticed a considerable difference between it and the Hague Monastery. I wanted to study the monastic tradition in an Orthodox country. Russia was closed then. I managed, although with great difficulty, to get to Serbia.
A couple of years later, in 1975, my mother moved to Greece, where she decided to stay forever . But her fate turned out differently. The prophetic words of Saint Justin (Popovich), who announced to her in Serbia about the impending return to her native land, were fulfilled. Friends from Holland began to convince the nun to come back to found a new Orthodox monastery. After much reflection, having received the blessing of the confessor, abbess and bishop, Mother Maria returned to the Netherlands. “Go to your homeland and found a monastery there,” she was admonished in Greece.“At first I lived alone in this big house in Asten,” says my mother. “Every two weeks a priest came here to serve the liturgy. Then guests began to arrive. Finally, since 1993, the monastery began to be replenished with novices and nuns of various nationalities. There are now eight nuns in the monastery: three Dutch, as well as a Greek, an American, a Swedish, a Spanish Cypriot and an English Cypriot.
The fact that three native Dutch women live in the monastery (including the abbess herself) is remarkable in its own way. And even wonderful. After all, accepting monasticism is nonsense for the vast majority of the Dutch. It is characteristic that in many Catholic monasteries there have been no new novices for twenty years. The monasteries are dying one after another.
“In the Netherlands, monastic life is perceived as a phenomenon of the distant past,” Mother said bitterly.
Now the Astensky Monastery lives a rather calm and measured life. The nuns work in the garden, look after the birds, and sew clothes. In order to receive at least a small income (you need to pay for water, heating and electricity), the sisters make candles (about 20 thousand pieces a year), paint icons, and prepare books for printing. Of course, the monastery also receives voluntary donations.
- In general, we are coping. Although everything is very expensive in Holland,” my mother noted.
Five years ago, an event burst into the monastery like a whirlwind, slightly disrupting its measured life. The name of Mother Superior Maria was then on the lips of many people, even those far from the Church. "The nun is in prison!" – they were in a hurry to spread the “hot” news of the newspaper. What happened? Bird flu swept the country; tens of thousands of chickens used for industrial fattening were destroyed. Government inspectors removed birds from private property. They also reached Asten. Arriving at the monastery, the officials demanded that the next morning all the “living creatures” be placed in special cages. For removal and destruction.
But the abbess was firmly convinced that the epidemic (which had almost ceased by that time) had bypassed the monastery. The chickens, according to the sisters' observations, remained healthy, without showing the slightest signs of illness. And the affected areas were quite far from the monastery. Therefore, Mother Maria refused the demands of the officials. The chickens were hidden. The inspectors left with nothing, and the abbess was taken to prison, where she was subjected to a lengthy interrogation. And although many years have passed since then, I did not fail to touch on this topic in a conversation with my mother.
“The main thing in this story is not so much the chickens (we don’t eat meat after all), but the ethical issues,” noted Abbess Maria. “Unfortunately, money in this country has become more important than morality. Yes, we can say: “Okay, let them kill animals,” but the same thing can happen to people! Let's take the life of a sick child: he costs society so much! That's the danger.
However, in Holland, I thought, they are already taking the lives of sick people - under the plausible pretext of ending their suffering. No one is going to ban euthanasia; there is no talk of returning to more conservative (and Christian-oriented) legislation. Will the state continue to try to impose its understanding of morality on the Church? I asked the abbess’s opinion on this matter.
– In principle, such a danger exists. And in order for the state not to be able to impose its will on the Church, there must be a clear separation. Now in Holland the Church is completely separated from the state. Personally, this situation suits me,” my mother noted.
Indeed, in Dutch conditions, the “spike” of the Church and the state could cause noticeable damage to the Church. Fortunately, this is not the case. The government does not give the Orthodox a single cent, but it does not demand the blessing of same-sex “marriages.” At least for now.
After talking with my mother and touring the monastery, I managed to talk a little with Archimandrite Meletius (Webber), who was staying here, a native Briton who converted to Orthodoxy more than 35 years ago. Father Meletius, who came to Holland in 2005 (to work on new books), served in the Amsterdam parish. Fluent in Dutch, the Briton organically fit into the life of Dutch Orthodoxy. But, alas, only for a short time. Recently, the priest was appointed rector of the Monastery of St. John of Shanghai in California (USA).
The next day, Abbess Maria, masterfully and even masterfully driving a car (however, for the West this is commonplace), took me to the Weert station. I was drawn back to the hustle and bustle of Dutch life.
“Come to us,” she said goodbye. – You will work on your materials in peace and quiet.
Having thanked my mother for her hospitality, I set off on my further journey.
The fast train rushed me south. I was again traveling to provincial Maastricht, so beautifully located on the banks of the majestic Meuse River near the Belgian border. “Oh, how this city lacks the creativity, sincerity and openness of Fathers Sergius and Gregory, the prayerfulness of Mother Superior Maria and, perhaps, the missionary spirit of Father Stephen,” I thought when I set foot on Maastricht soil again.
