How does one design a dream house for 1,000 families? It may seem unusual, but this is how I like to think about church architecture. A house of God should embody the hopes and dreams of a group of people, while at the same time be built as a gift for future generations.

Designing a religious structure is one of the most rewarding things an architect can do.  More than other building types, a sacred building forces the architect to understand the beliefs and practices of the faithful and then give them flesh in three dimensions. In the best of worlds, the architect works with the pastor and the community to write a sermon in stone and glass that will last.

My own intentions in designing ecclesiastical buildings are manifold. I aspire to creating universal works of beauty that will glorify God as well as ennobling buildings that will express the desires of the people who worship there. In designing All Saints Church in Walton, Kentucky, this meant that I researched, drew and measured great examples of ecclesiastical architecture from Venice and Rome. It also meant that I visited and learned from the rich local tradition of architecture in the Ohio River Valley.

The parishioners requested that All Saints look like a church, and I sought to do that in the most elegantly simple way possible. The siting on the apex of a hill near a major highway gives prominence to the building as a sign of faith and of hope. The simple pedimented apse and bell tower grow out of the bucolic landscape and become a beacon of strength for the surrounding countryside. A tree-lined boulevard leads up to the front of the church and helps to organize the site, break up the parking and provide a ceremonial entrance and location for holy day processions. This allee focuses on the front façade with a semi-circular plaza in front, which is intended to welcome people to their spiritual home. 

Seeking to be at once universal and particular, I sought to make All Saints "high style" as well as vernacular. The main facade employs a series of Doric orders with two half pediments for the stairs on the first floor and Ionic proportions on the second tier, constructed using local materials of red brick and limestone. The building expresses its dedication by including bas-reliefs of the four moral virtues and the 12 apostles within the Doric frieze, as well as a tympanum based on the Ghent Altarpiece above the central doors. Working with the brickmasons and stonecarvers to layout the pilasters, entablature and bas-reliefs was one of the most challenging and satisfying aspects of the project.

In spite of a limited budget, I believe it is important also to tend to those unseen things that help to ensure the durability and longevity of the building. A solid steel and masonry building, carefully detailed expansion joints, and copper flashing reflect the building's mission of symbolizing eternity, while being a good investment for the parish. In order to stretch the budget, we decided to construct the basement out of board formed concrete in a rusticated pattern and painted to match the limestone columns. We also made a decision to manufacture the upper entablature out of painted metal, like many early 20th century buildings.  However, when we proposed to delete the 100-foot bell tower in order to save substantial funds, the people's reaction was instructive: "Oh we really love the design of the church, but we really miss that belltower." Miraculously, an anonymous donor came through with funds to build the belltower and the parishioners were ecstatic. It is difficult now to imagine the church without it.

In designing the interior of All Saints, the challenge was to be able to create a sense of transcendence within a limited budget. A generous and lofty space was constructed using conventional materials of drywall, wood, linoleum and paint. We were fortunate to have parishioners donate materials and their labor, including walnut boards, which inspired us to design the narthex and sanctuary walls using raised paneling. The progression into, upwards and through the church was designed with a series of thresholds or gateways in order to heighten the journey of the pilgrim. Though I am sympathetic with the modern desire for having amenities in a church, I believe it is unfortunate when a parish sacrifices quality for the sake of quantity of rooms or square footage. Instead, All Saints Church is efficient in plan so as to maximize the budget available for the nave and sanctuary, which are the raison d'etre of the building. Bathrooms, stairs and a confessional are tucked in next to the narthex.

In analyzing great churches from many epochs, one cannot escape the fact that their interiors are, without exception, vertical in proportion. This, coupled with the use of heavenly light, whether translucent or colored, is one reason that people of different faiths can find these buildings awe inspiring and moving. At All Saints, I sought to maximize the height of the nave in relation to its width, while further emphasizing the vertical with tall Doric pilasters and a three pointed barrel vault. Thermal half circular windows inspired by the Roman baths intersect the vault and create a soft natural light symbolic of the vault of heaven.

Though we did not have money for side aisles, each bay with its paired Doric pilasters, arches and pedimented shrines assist in creating depth and provide elegant frames for sacred art. The pastor, Fr. Schulte, has a gift for finding beautiful artwork, including many liturgical items, pews, the font, and four Italian marble statues from the 1920s.  On the recommendation of the client and the interior designer, Dick Greiwe, the arches were painted umber and the shrine panels were painted deep red, which creates a stunning backdrop for the white statues and emphasizes these spaces as shallow side chapels. The first archway on the south as you enter the church is the entrance to an octagonal vaulted baptistery placed within the base of the square belltower.

Along with verticality and the use of sacred art, one of the major ways the interior of a church is distinct from an auditorium or a ballroom is its focus. Take away the chancel or the sanctuary of a historic church and it becomes just another grand room. All Saints was designed so that the whole building leads your eyes toward the raised sanctuary or holy place where the altar, tabernacle, and ambo reside. A paneled marble altar is raised on additional steps and surmounted by a four-columned baldacchino which creates an aedicule within the church. Corinthian columns on pedestals were painted to match bianco perla and verde antiqua marble and ornamented with gold leaf to bring out the details. The entablature with its cherubim supports a canopy of imported fabric, which is meant to symbolize Moses' tent in the wilderness and the veil in the temple of Jerusalem.  Axially disposed behind the altar and framed within the baldacchino is the golden bronze tabernacle, which is the holy of holies for Catholics, surrounded by red silk and framed within a paneled arch and keystone. The raised ambo or pulpit is located on the south part of the sanctuary in front of the triumphal arch, while the priest's chair balances the ambo on the north side. These and the cross match the walnut paneling of the walls, which is employed to help bring focus to the sanctuary and set it apart.

In order that the elements of the church would be integrated and consistent with the building design, I sought to have as many custom elements as we could afford: bronze chandeliers, bronze tabernacle, walnut doors, and walnut ambry. Having a similar goal for the artwork, I worked with the pastor to find artists to create sculpture, bas reliefs, paintings and stained glass that would be in keeping with the overall design. Bernie Duncan of Bybee Stone, Richard Young and Rev. Tony Brankin were terrific sculptors to work with, and their art testifies to the difference it makes when original art is integrated with classical architecture. 

It is my hope and the hope of the parish that All Saints can be an example of how it is possible to build beautiful churches again, even within a limited budget. While not large in plan (it seats about 600), All Saints has generous volume and a monumental scale, which gives visitors a sense of awe yet makes them still feel at home. The parishioners say they are thrilled with the church, the beautiful light, the calmness of the interior and the fact that All Saints looks like a church. 

All Saints is part of a growing renaissance of traditional ecclesiastical architecture today.  People's views about new churches are starting to catch up with our appreciation for historic structures. The great churches and cathedrals of our country were built at great cost in their day, and we are witnesses to the sophisticated yet expensive projects of restoration and renewal necessary to maintain these works of art for future generations.

The work of a growing number of talented architects, along with the enlightened patronage of parish communities throughout the country, indicates that beauty, goodness and truth are back to stay.

Duncan Stroik's architectural practice, www.stroikarchitect.com, grows out of a commitment to the principles of classical architecture and urbanism. For more than a decade, he has focused on the design of ecclesiastical, civic, residential and collegiate buildings, which combine a passion for durability, function and beauty.