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Bernard Maybeck's First Church of Christ, Scientist
Bernard Maybeck (1862-1957), raised on MacDougal Street in Greenwich Village and
trained as an architect at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris, settled in Berkeley
with his wife Annie in 1982. Though Maybeck's 1915 design for San Francisco's
Palace of Fine Arts is more widely known, the First Church of Christ, Scientist
is his masterpiece.
(A new book surveying architectural historians names it one
of the 150 most important buildings in the Western world, placing it between
Greene and Greene's Gamble House and Wright's Taliesen.)
Finished in 1911, it
draws from a long list of architectural influences: Byzantine, Romanesque, and
Japanese elements are piled one on top of the other. Its interior wood paneling
and handmade details are typical of the Arts and Crafts style. But the building
is modern, too -- much more than it appears to 21st-century eyes. For the windows,
Maybeck picked sturdy metal frames designed for factories, a suprising choice for
a church. (In fact, their Detroit-based manufacturer, more puzzled than sacandalized
to hear that the architect planned to use the windows in a sacred building, was
at first reluctant to send them west.) The huge wooden supports that intersect
directly above the pews are another industrial touch: they're based on something
called the Platt Truss, which was invented in the 1850s to prop up railroad
bridges. The use of pured concrete for the floors and columns is also a sign of
a modern sensibility at work. In part Maybeck made these choices to save money,
but they also reflected his desire to build simply and with a kind of structural
candor, even in a highly ornate ecclesiastical setting; he was aiming, he said,
for
"sincerity and honest exemplified in the use of genuine construction materials
which are what they claim to be and are not imitations." The genius of the
building is that despite its unusual blend of contemporary touches and historical
allusions -- not to mention its periodic eruptions of ornament -- it comes
together as a serene whole, somehow pragmatic and ethereal at the same time.
The Faculty Club, where we'll meet up next for the reception, is another Maybeck
design; it has been extended since it opened in 1902, but the building's
neo-Gothic Great Hall, with its steeply pitched ceiling and gaping mouth of a
fireplace, remains one of the architects's best known rooms.
-- Christopher Hawthorne
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