Beauty and Utility (Feb 26-Mar 4)
This week in snapshots:
Happy Saturday, beautiful people!
Are you more of an aesthetic person, or a utility person?
I think I’m externally a utility person, but internally an aesthetic person. Minimalism appeals to me because of the premise of owning *only functional* things - and the more functions on a single item, the better, because it increases the function of your space to be *living* space instead of *hoarding* space 🤷♀️ But at the end of the day…
I prefer to be in beautiful spaces than functional spaces. I prefer to engage beautiful things than functional things. I prioritize things that bring me joy over things that are useful.
Beauty and joy are functions and have their uses separate from utility and functionality, but despite my hyperbolized emphasis on efficiency, I think I am or am becoming an aesthetic person.
This church building has been drawing lines to me on this point. I’ve so far only built functional buildings, and I have complained much to my roommates about the inability to distinguish a church building from a mall. I call churches “commercial” spaces because we, like the rest of our hyper-utilitarian culture, are selling the idea of salvation in our spaces more than we are using the space itself to invite transformation.
I’m sure you learned in your art history classes the intention behind the design of cathedrals. The function of the space was to bring you towards the Divine. Every nook and cranny were packed with artistic flourish and detail because artisans and architects were bringing, through their design, their best work as an offering to God for the edification of the brethren - ideally, anyways.
I very much feel that same offeratory labor as I work in “commercial” churches. I may not be creating art directly, but I can still sit in a ceiling and try to make every nook and cranny packed with the uniform detail that narrows church-goers’ focus towards God. The desire of a “commercial” church space is, I suppose, the same as a cathedral: to draw your focus away from your everyday and into His presence.
And yet. The space, the actual space of our sound-proofed, black-roofed auditoriums communicates “commerce” and “efficiency” and “functionality” more than any of the other things a church space might want to communicate.
Can’t we have both?
Can’t our windows be stained-glass AND our gathering areas be sound-proofed and well-tuned? Can’t our fellowship halls contain artistic flourishes in every corner AND be arranged to optimize movement through it? Can’t our stages have all the inputs for the most epic worship music AND room for altars where we can - personally and corporately - meet God? Can’t we use our gathering spaces to describe and facilitate sublime experience?
I spend all day everyday for weeks at a time in church buildings, so I hope you’ll forgive me if it seems like I’ve thought about this a lot ^^’ But the aesthetic and utilitarian ideals seep into our homes as well.
I mean, if someone were to walk into your home while you weren’t there (like I am to all of these churches), how do you think they would judge you? As an aesthetic person? Or a utilitarian?
And how do you suppose that influences your day-to-days?
Tell me something about it,
—Beth