An earthquake is one of nature’s most wrathful disasters. There is, of course, the emotional horror of injury and death, but the most obvious horror is that of physical destruction: of buildings – homes, shops, schools, and churches – lying in ruins. Edifices that we prefer to think of as indestructible, rendered nothing more than a pile of rubble. In the words of Massimiliano Fuksas, architect of the new San Paulo Parish complex in earthquake-ravaged Foligno, Umbria, Italy, an earthquake is “a disaster of incredible dimension”. But even after the aftermath, there is the challenge of rebuilding; and in reconstruction, it is the role of architecture to embody the reestablishment of strength and belonging.
San Paulo Parish complex is situated in Foligno, Umbria: a region that knows all too well the realities of the restlessness of the earth. In 1997 the region was ravaged by a powerful quake that killed ten people and destroyed many monuments and priceless artworks. And then, just 18 days before the inauguration of the new church, another quake hit of much greater magnitude,
and with a much more devastating effect. A death toll rising over 275 is horrific enough, but there is also hardship for those who survived, for many were still living in temporary accommodation, having lost their homes in the 1997 quake. Hundreds of Umbrians left homeless by the latest quake banded together to form a new congregation, making use of the original (restored) church, which dated back to 1402, but could no longer support the growing congregation.
It was with this knowledge that the Italian Episcopal Conference organised a competition to design a new parish centre, “to provide an innovative and decisive landmark in accordance with the latest international research and symbolizing the rebirth of the city after the earthquake”, and then selected the entry of local architects Massimiliano and Doriana Fuksas as the winning design for the new parish complex.
The new complex comprises two main elements. The first, a church, is geometric and monolithic; a box within a box, measuring 30 x 22.5 metres, with high (25.8-metre) ceilings. The second contains the Vestry, Pastoral Ministry Rooms and Canonical House in a low, elongated rectangular prism. A third translucent form in satin glass – the Ferial Chapel – binds the two. The entire volume is then raised 1.5 metres above ground level, so as to float with angelic grace upon the earth. Indeed, the inner box appears to be suspended from above by nothing more than irregular light cannons. But in reality, the structure is in fact supported by a steel framework finished in lightweight sprayed concrete. Parishioners cross a parvis to enter the building, via a long raised walkway that leads to the entrance, like a clean horizontal cut through the whole front elevation. The remaining free area on the site has been left free for vegetation, with car parks and playing fields at the rear.
The church space is formed by the intersection of the two main parallelepipeds, forming a nave and two aisles. The outer one is built of wax-treated reinforced concrete, while the smaller, inner aisle is formed from lightweight cellular concrete. The surface is perforated with a series of holes, so as to admit natural light into the core of the double structure. Beams of natural light cross the structure both transversely and vertically like spotlights onto the main liturgical features – the altar, ambar, and baptismal font – encouraging focused spirituality and quiet prayer. Iridescent quotations from the Gospels run along the walls: a stimulating pattern of artificial light to counteract the natural spotlighting and that from the ceiling skylights.
The architects are responsible for all the lighting and furniture in the nave: elegant oak pews and a single-step plinth, with a more robust altar, lectern, and Bishop’s chair, all carved from solid pietra caciotta, a local soft stone which hardens when cut to form a tougher, marble-like finish. Externally, all the structural features serve a double purpose as artworks and religious monuments. Artist Mimmo Paladino created the 14 stations of the cross along the Via Crucis, and the statuesque ‘Pole-Cross’ sculpture outside the church, formed by artist Enzo Cucchi out of concrete and white Carrara marble, stands 13.5 metres tall, becoming an architectural feature in its own right.
Set on 2000m2 against the backdrop of the Apennine Mountains – which mark the trajectory of the geological fault line which not only created them, but also created the need for this new church – San Paulo Parish complex is a symbol of structure and strength: affirming the endurance of this congregation and their faith. +
IMAGES Courtesty and Copyright of Moreno Maggi
1. Local tectonic activity is the source of this beautiful Umbrian landscape, but it has also subjected the local parish to numerous destructive earthquakes. 2. High-angle lighting around the edges of the room delivers a gentle, diffused light throughout the large congregation space. 3. The furnishings are formed from local oak and solid pietra caciotta, a local soft stone which hardens when cut to become a firm, marble-like substance. 4. The large capacity church, built to accommodate a combined congregation from surrounding parishes still recovering from the deadly earthquakes. 5. Local artists contributed the sculptures and other artwork for the church, which continues outside with the stations of the cross and a statuesque Pole-Cross sculpture.