This page contains a Flash digital edition of a book.
“The glass pavilion and light-well ... Act as a link


between the parish’s core activities both of worship and participation”


Located at the North-East corner of Trafalgar Square, and prior to the consecration of James Gibbs’ church in 1726, the land had been used for worship since the 13th century. The spiritual significance of the premises, as well as its listed status, goes some distance to explaining the minimalist interventions created by Eric Parry Architects. The addition of an entrance pavilion to the crypts and new foyer below, emerges at street-level with little fanfare. Situated to the Western end towards Adelaide Street, it is almost apologetic and acutely aware of the context in which it is set. However, the focus of their remit has been to forge a unifying masterplan with particular attention on improved visitor and community facilities. Those adjoining features are largely subtle and appropriate, but are indicative of the assimilation from ecclesiastical to civic architecture. The church’s aura of ‘High Anglicanism’ that once set it apart from other public buildings appears to have ebbed away, leaving behind an era of openness and inclusion. The new masterplan now boasts several


facilities such as the Bishop Ho Ming Wah Chinese Community Centre, an extended Church Hall and rehearsal spaces for choirs and


musicians, all of which is housed underground bringing with it a twinned ritual of sacred and secular. The glass pavilion and light-well are isolated so as not to disturb the setting of St. Martin’s, an acknowledgement of its continuing religious duties, but also acting as a link between the parish’s core activities both of worship and participation. Furthermore, removal of Victorian alterations to the church may have restored it to Gibbs’ original scheme, but also reinforces its ability to inspire and reconnect with the community it proclaims to serve. The patronage of churches across Europe


were once commonplace. The impact of these monumental edifices of spiritual and political governance attracted those who wished to benefit from such association. A religious order of piety and procession grew from that culture, and long defined the articulation of a church’s nave and chapels, but now must contend with its social responsibilities next door. It is a response in the church’s code of duty, not just to their congregation, but to the homeless and disadvantaged they aspire to help through ‘The Connection’ programme as catered for by the restoration.


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64  |  Page 65  |  Page 66  |  Page 67  |  Page 68  |  Page 69  |  Page 70  |  Page 71  |  Page 72  |  Page 73  |  Page 74  |  Page 75  |  Page 76  |  Page 77  |  Page 78  |  Page 79  |  Page 80  |  Page 81  |  Page 82