Written by Bastiaan de Vries

Some of the most impressive buildings across the world are religious in nature. The great cathedrals in the world, built using the most contemporary techniques of the times, and by the best craftsman that money could buy, are grandiose and tall precisely so they could be seen to reach the heavens themselves. The pyramids in Egypt, arguably some of the greatest architectural wonders in the world, are immense tombs surrounded by mortuary temples. To impress upon people the glory of the gods, organized religion has always employed architects to give them a place to congregate. So, throughout the history of man, religion and architecture have gone hand in hand.

During the turn of the last century, and on a much smaller scale, Bay Area architects, just like their Cathedral-building predecessors, were using the latest in building technologies and techniques to create sacred spaces, to hold scores of people as they came together to rebuild old communities, or establish new ones. Because of the forgetful nature of people, or the unassuming nature of sacred architecture on a regional level, most of these architects’ names have been lost to time. Even when careful records have been kept of history surrounding these churches and communities, architects’ names have often times been omitted. But the spaces that these architects created, in turn created stories for the people that used them, and those stories often remain.

Hence, this roadmap is often more like a collection of stories than like a collection of architectural facts and figures. But, as the buildings still stand, the architectural shapes and voids remain for us to look at and draw our own conclusions from, and as you’ll find, all of them are beautiful examples of a style of modernist architecture that was designed for the everyman to come together, to heal, and to prosper.

Also, it’s important to remember that not every building can be a cathedral. Saint Mary of the Assumption in San Francisco (by the architects John Michael Lee, Paul A. Ryan and Angus McSweeney, together with Pier Luigi Nervi and Pietro Belluschi) is arguably the most impressive example of Modernist sacred architecture we have on this side of the state but it’s also the most obvious one. Like with most Modernist architecture, there is a lot of beauty to be found in the mundane, in the residential, and in the entirely rote and functional types of architecture that is mostly forgotten about by society at large.

So without further ado, here is a tour of Northern California’s unique and interesting sacred architecture:

208 Matheson St, Healdsburg

Designed in 1965 by Thomas H. Fruiht, the St John the Baptist Catholic Church in Healdsburg is notable for being the largest one in Sonoma County. It’s a hulking design, like a square stone slab set into the earth. None of the rounded features in the design of the façade detract from this monolithic quality, though. The roof, with its gorgeous green patina, reminds us of the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and his many disciples. Otherwise, the church mostly stands out for its imposing character over the rest of the neighborhood. The interior is very representative of 1960s architectural design: a lot of dark, exposed brick, smooth white plastered walls, and an organic, visible structure juxtaposed by large geometric features on the floors. The altar space in particular looks like a stage, a cut off pentagon shape covered in purple carpeting, ready for a production each Sunday.

All that said, the church looks absolutely stunning in these black and white photographs found in the Sonoma County Library Photograph Collection.

From a vintage postcard, as found on Ebay

10 Angwin Ave, Angwin

Another big, hulking design, though this one shows more signs of some architectural finesse once you get past the façade. This campus church sits on the grounds of the Pacific Union College, high up in the Napa Valley area of California. Planning started as early as 1946, but delays, deaths and arguments over the merits of college versus community churches pushed the start of construction well into 1966. When the Church was finally completed in 1968, it seated 1847 - they actually ended up having two services on Sunday because in the intervening years the number of student members and guests had grown well over 2200.

A 4000-pipe Austrian organ was installed in the early 80s, and as funds became available in the years after, structures were added to the sanctuary to house services like Sunday school and a social hall, and eventually a new bell tower was constructed. It remains as a stunning example of the power of modern building materials. It’s a brutish building that is softened by an exciting attention to detail.

The church sanctuary, under construction sometime between 1967 and 1968 (photo from A Mountain, a Pickax, a College by Walter Utt)

960 Caymus St, Napa

Here we find our first church on the list with some substantial architectural information available!

Rebecca Yerger, for the Napa Valley Marketplace Magazine, writes:

“The 1966 building was designed by Henry Schubart and Germano Milano. It embraces the then new concepts and ideology model established by the Vatican II Council in 1962. In fact, the present-day church is known as the Vatican II St. John the Baptist Catholic Church. Part of these new precepts were to make the church more open and accessible, including the physical layout of the church interior.”

Henry Schubart studied at Taliesen, left because of friction, and then could not return because he was unable to pay the tuition (that Frank Lloyd Wright himself waived the first time around). Germano Milano was a San-Francisco based architect. Though not much information is available online about what he was up to, we find that he did work on the Walters Residence in Hillsburough (find some photographs of that house here.)

Not only do we now have the names of some actual architects, we also have an interesting piece of the historical puzzle that is sacred architecture. At least when it comes to Catholicism. Rebecca Yerger mentions the Second Vatican Council in the early 1960s, and it’s interesting to look into the architectural takeaways of this event.

Essentially an opportunity to reexamine and reevaluate the relationship between the Catholic church and the modern world, the council’s message, and the subsequent interpretations of its message, had some pretty impactful ramifications to the architecture of churches going forward. High- and side-altars were removed, religious artwork was shunned, as well as statues of saints, elevated pulpits, and even tabernacles - it all had to go, in an effort to bring the congregation closer to the action, nothing could stand in the way. Whether the council had modernist architecture in mind or not, it was the perfect opportunity for architects to show off their skills in creating modern, sleek and bare spaces that could be filled by spirit, not materiality.

Although often considered iconoclastic by opponents of the new liturgical theory (who often described these new spaces as “Protestant,” and “like airport terminals”), the humanist ideals of architectural modernism actually fell perfectly in line with this new way of placing the congregation closer to the center of the action. To provide a space for man to be healed and nurtured is a core tenet of Modernist architecture, and churches like this one in Napa are great examples of architects doing what they do best within the confines of the clients’ brief, in this case the Vatican, and the people of Napa.

Frank Lloyd Wright’s influence on the architects seems evident from this angle

1313 A St, Antioch

This is a great looking, yet anonymous, building featuring all the space-age, sharp-edged stylings of 1960s construction. Architects all across the Bay Area toiled away at designing great little architectural gems like this, and are now largely, and sadly, forgotten. Stucco and stone proved to be a popular aesthetic combination during the 60s and the 70s and you can find it used anywhere from houses, and apartment buildings, to banks and factories, even gas stations and more. This church has that near monochromatic pale brown look going for it that you can see all over the Bay area on buildings from the same era. Regardless, the angles on this church are the real standout, they go in all directions and they create an exciting façade to what could otherwise be a pretty unremarkable little structure.

Going a little further back in time, the Most Holy Rosary Catholic Church has had a number of buildings. The history of the congregation began in 1864, with a small wood-frame building, named Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary, housing less than a hundred of its followers, on land taken, and then donated by one of Antioch’s first colonizers. In 1905 the church began construction of a larger, Romanesque style building to house its congregation.

3700 Pacific Ave, Stockton

Another church with some exciting architectural pedigree. The Central United Methodist Church in Stockton was designed by famous design team Anshen & Allen in 1964. The architectural partners actually designed some of the initial tract homes for both Joseph Eichler and John Calder Mackay in California. They were also responsible for the truly stunning Chapel of the Holy Cross in Sedona, Arizona. Closer to home they designed a number of great buildings on the UC Berkeley campus, including the Lawrence Hall of Science.

This church has some great pictures of it under construction, with the structural frame looking like the bones of a giant beached whale. Something straight out of a J.G. Ballard science fiction story. Even with the Bay Area period correct roofing on, the concrete “bones” stick out from every angle to lend this structure the appearance of a leviathan. Anshen & Allen pierced the skin of the animal above the entrance, with the concrete rib-like arches serving as impressive entry ways. The interior of the church continues that theme, with the structure still in full view and guiding the view onwards and upwards. The exposed concrete is now set against the warm tones of the wood paneling running up to the top of the structure. Not quite inside the belly of a beast then, but inside a sacred space designed to hold and protect its congregation. The altar space in this church is all wood, which is a nice change from the usual velour-like carpeting that most churches use.

Photo as found on Roadside Architecture, here

3820 East Ave, Livermore

There is nothing quite so beautiful in modernist architecture as a well executed A-frame. Architect Rudolph Schindler was arguably the first to propel the A-frame design into the modernized and industrialized age. Gay icon John Campbell perfected it with the Leisure House in the 1950s. It has become a staple of architecture ever since, regardless of its use - although it should be said that the A-frame often looks best in smaller scale residential architecture. This modest church in Livermore is a shining example of the A-frame design being perfectly suited to enhance the religious experience. It’s a sharp looking building situated on a main avenue, surrounded by otherwise pretty unremarkable looking suburban architecture. It shoots up into the sky, and looks particularly picturesque on bright and sunny days. The structure on the inside features large, white concrete ribs, lazily arching towards the top center of the church. On the inside it feels snug like an A-frame should, though.

1534 Everett St, El Cerrito

While there is not a lot of information about this church, just the presence of it in El Cerrito raises some interesting thoughts. The Bay Area has been home to a large number of displaced Koreans - people looking to escape a place that no longer felt safe and sustainable to live, in search of a new (albeit temporary) place to call home. Often these people ended up choosing to stay, or being forced to stay because of circumstances, losing connections to their homeland, and to family members left behind. However, they have now started and continued families of their own, with kids (and grandkids) born and raised in this country. The idea of coming together, sharing community and all the joys that come with it (support, food, resources), is natural to all people all across the world. Regardless of the implications of an organized religion that is not wholly authentic (both North and South Korea seem largely irreligious), a coming together of a people regardless of where they are from can be a supportive and fruitful act. Especially under a gorgeous modernist dome like the one in El Cerrito.

1301 Mowry Ave, Fremont

This sanctuary is interesting because even though it looks like it belongs in the 1960s, it was actually built in 1983. The two adjoining buildings, now a social hall and preschool, were both built in 1962 though, and they have some of the classic concrete touches of that time in construction. The sanctuary itself almost looks like a bird about to take flight, or an origami ballerina. The folds rest on a flat-roofed structure that holds an assortment of functional spaces - each fold, in turn, encloses the sanctuary space using gorgeous glass-in-lead panels depicting various religious scenes.

The adjoining buildings feature interesting concrete archways, and are now covered in solar panels. The church is a member of California Interfaith Power & Light, an organization that recognizes global warming and promotes renewable energy. Read more on that here, https://www.interfaithpower.org/about-us/

535 Old San Francisco Rd, Sunnyvale

The construction of sacred architecture often takes place over a long span of time. Cathedrals could take decades, sometimes even centuries to build. Often land is bought, or gifted, and an architect is subsequently chosen to make designs for all the buildings to go on that land. Usually other, more practical structures are built first, these often include assembly halls, parlors, offices, classrooms, et cetera. When it’s finally time for the sanctuary to be built, enough time has passed that everyone is itching for something new, and the original design is put aside in favor of a new design by a new architect. Such is the case for this church. Nine years after initial designs were made by Berkeley methodist Carlton A. Steiner in 1953, the church hired architect Donald Powers Smith to design a new sanctuary building. Ground was finally broken in 1962 and this gorgeous church is the result. From the website: “Mr Smith designed the sanctuary to be a building which would harmonize, not clash with, St. Martin’s newly completed building [next lot over]. He gave FMC a tall, many sided A-frame exterior to contrast with St. Martin’s “sphere” shape. [...] Members of the congregation added their own touch to the exterior walls of the sanctuary by inserting designs of colored pebbles into the fresh cement.”

541 Melville Ave, Palo Alto

Here is another amazing example of sacred architecture. This time of a very personal nature. But first, let’s get to the exciting part: the architect’s name! Architect Vincent Raney designed this chapel sometime before 1951, which is when the building was officially dedicated. Raney was especially well known for creating impressive looking domed theaters, including some right next to the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose. He also designed over 600 service stations for the Associated Oil Company in San Francisco. Check out the Pacific Coast Architecture Database for more information on Raney here: http://pcad.lib.washington.edu/person/4537/

The actual chapel itself was commissioned by Clare Boothe Luce, who’s impressive list of accolades includes (but is not limited to) being “a versatile author, playwright, congresswoman, and US Ambassador to Italy.” After her daughter was killed in an automobile accident, she turned to religion to process this trauma. The chapel from its inception has served as a dedication to her daughter’s memory. The Anglican Province of Christ the King has since acquired the chapel and restored it to the original design by Vincent Raney, and it remains a touching and impressive example of modernist design in the Bay Area.

625 Hamilton Ave, Palo Alto

Thanks to the people of this church we can access some of the excellent documentation on this impressive looking sanctuary. From their website (https://firstpaloalto.com/mission-history/):

“During this period, Carlton Arthur Steiner of Berkeley was selected to be the architect for this challenging project. [...] Finally the plans were drawn and approved and construction on the 1,050-person capacity “Contemporary Gothic” building began. The general contractor was Theo G. Meyer and Sons of San Francisco.”

So in this case, not only do we have the name of the architect but also the name of the general contractor. If you think architects’ names are soon forgotten, the names of the contractors are nearly always out of sight out of mind. The church website lists some of the amazing construction this company did:

“The “bones” of the new sanctuary were 19 massive poured-in-place concrete piers that extend from beneath the basement-level upward to meet 73 feet above the main aisle. Other basic structural elements were poured in place except the roof panels, which were precast, raised by a crane, and tied together at the ridge. 1,500 brilliantly hued small glass inserts were installed from a high interior scaffold. To ensure good acoustics, the face of the balcony was undulated. The unique circular motif lighting fixtures, made of spun steel with a brass finish, weigh 600 lbs and were bolted to the roof.”

It’s easy to get stuck on the design of a building sometimes, and forget that there’s a whole host of contractors and other craftsmen that get involved to actually build what the architect came up with. It’s an impressive feat of design and engineering from everyone involved. For being his first church, architect Carlton Arthur Steiner delivered an impressive design that is still striking to this day. It looks like he also designed a church in Oakland, as per the Pacific Coast Architecture Database.

1571 Southgate Ave, Daly City

Church history shows that the building was completed in 1975. It’s a big step up for a congregation that used to hold its pre-school program at a Round Table Pizza. It’s an exciting looking church building, completely of its era. The shape of the roof, especially, is a staple of 1960s and 1970s Modernist architecture. More recently the church added a statue garden, which really adds to the allure of the building. The interior is mostly no-frills - again we see the congregation close up to the action, without anything getting in the way. The use of wood in the altar area is inspired, and gives the perspective from the pews a definite warmth and comfort.

Speaking of its congregation, the website mentions that it started out as a predominantly white church, and since the 80s has welcomed Filipino, Samoan, Burmese, Hispanic and other non-white members of its community to their services. It’s a good reminder that even when a building is built in the context of its community, that context is prone to change when that community changes (especially in a place like the Bay Area) and the building should be allowed to change with it. The notion that a building is a static object is something of the past. Modernism was aware that the building should allow for multiple iterations of itself, to change according to the needs of the occupants (a great example to investigate would be the Rietveld Schröder House).

Most older buildings would simply be torn down, to allow for a new building to enact that kind of change. Hopefully this church - a building that most people describe as looking old-fashioned - can move with the times, and adapt to the new future of architecture in the same way that it adapted to its community.

625 Brotherhood Way, San Francisco

This is one of many sacred buildings on a stretch of road called Brotherhood Way, in San Francisco - an architecture lover’s dream location, and on a sunny day the perfect place to see some wonderful examples of how they used to build sacred spaces during and after the turn of the century. The street used to be a wash, draining into Lake Merced, but now is home to a whole number of sacred buildings, including a Masonic Temple, an Armenian School, a Synagogue and Catholic and Christian churches.

“Rabbi Gottlieb says his synagogue, Congregation Beth Israel Judea, is what sparked the idea to name the street Brotherhood Way. “Once it became a place of interfaith worship and gathering, the city fathers, or elders were persuaded to change the name to Brotherhood Way to reflect the ideals of our communities.”
https://www.kalw.org/show/crosscurrents/2019-10-01/one-street-many-faiths-brotherhood-way#stream/0

This particular temple has a history of bringing communities together. First in the late 60s when Congregation Beth Israel joined Temple Judea, and more recently when Beth Israel Judea in turn joined Congregation B’nai Emunah. Communities change over time, in so many ways, but it’s heartening to see that this building is still standing. It’s a gorgeous example of midcentury modern architecture, with its large A-frame windows, the white concrete on red brick color combo, and the dark brown roof tiles.

The building sometime around 1964, when it housed Temple Judea. Photo courtesy of *Congregation Beth Israel Judea, as found* *here*

426 33rd Ave, San Francisco

Hidden on a pretty cute but otherwise nondescript block of the Outer Richmond in San Francisco, this church quietly hits all the right architectural buttons for lovers of Modernism. There are pilotis, non-structural walls everywhere, clerestory windows, diagonal angles to the roof, large square windows sheltering an open-air courtyard, et cetera. All the details that make up this Methodist church are ones that Docomomo-Noca loves to celebrate.

Also, as I alluded to in the intro to this article, Modernism does not always have to mean immediate wow-factor. Sometimes great architecture takes time to reveal just what about it makes it work. And sometimes the aesthetics of a building are totally unrelated to its function - the unassuming nature of the visuals as a direct result of the priority of function. The user ultimately decides if the building is successful, not the MCM-fans like myself skulking outside the windows on a sunny Sunday afternoon. In the end the building forgoes wow-factor in favor of playing nice with the rest of the neighborhood because it’s part of it - it exists right in the middle of it, after all.

Ultimately, even though this church does not have the same immediate impact, visually, as say the Forest Hill Christian Church on Lagunda Honda Blvd, it’s made up of all the same parts, just applied in a more discreet way. And the fact that it’s still standing, and still being used by its congregation is a testament to the success of the architecture.

2770 Marin Ave, Berkeley

Who knew that the Bay Area was hiding some explicitly Corbusian-inspired architecture? However, this gorgeous little chapel offers a lot more of a distinct Bay Area identity if you look beyond the obvious references to Chapelle Notre-Dame du Haut. Part of a campus, the structure itself sits a little out of the way, tucked into the corner in an unglamorous way. Where Le Corbusier’s Chapel looks out across the gorgeous Eastern French fields, James Leefe’s chapel looks into residential backyards and tree lines.

All eyes are on the chapel itself then, and boy does it deliver. Made out of concrete, looking so perfectly 1960s, the chapel is all structure and all business. It looks grand and glorious in a way no 200-seater could or should. It’s truly a perfect example of the Modernism of its era - an honesty in materials, a desire to elevate the experience of the user, and a blind eye to the glitz and glamour of starchitecture. Visiting this chapel is a process of exaltation, in the best way sacred architecture can do it.

Photographs on the website of the American Craft Council show off some of the great details inside the building; the roaming eye goes from red tile to black tile to wood moulding to bare concrete to floating wooden benches to green fabric to bronze handles to a pale ceramic baptismal font. Who knows what it looks like on the inside right now, but hopefully the new owners (Zaytuna, the first accredited Muslim undergraduate college in the United States) are taking good care of this absolute gem.

62 Santa Rosa Ave, San Francisco

Architect and urban planner Mario Ciampi is responsible for some of the most exciting buildings in the Bay Area, architecturally speaking. This church, designed by Ciampi in the early 1950s in the Excelsior neighborhood of San Francisco, is a somewhat hidden gem worthy of some special attention. It’s a perfect example of sacred architecture that has to play nice with the residential architecture that surrounds it.

The San Francisco Public Library has some newscopy from 1953: “Newscopy: "CHURCH OF THE WEEK - Corpus Christi Catholic Church, Alemany and Santa Rosa-av. this week was named 'one of the few great churches of the world' by architect Emil Frei of St. Louis. Born in San Francisco, Frei holds the American Institute of Architecture gold medal for liturgical arts. He characterized the design of the church 'new and fresh', honest without pretension, like religion'. Corpus Christi Church was designed by architect Mario Ciampi. Pastor is Rev. David Zunino. Erected in 1952, the modern building replaces the former church which was constructed in 1898. 'Visiting architects and clergymen from many countries are being attracted to view the church."

It looks entirely unassuming from most angles except the front, where the impressive façade takes up all the attention. It’s an entirely different story on the inside, though. Exciting angles wherever you look, a serenity in materials and voids, and an experience that is a step above many other churches in the Bay Area.

It’s worth noting that the façade was designed and built to be even more impressive, but has since been altered significantly. Chapter president Hannah Lise Simonson mentions: “there were projecting cross-shaped aluminum mullions (creating a depth of profile that no longer exists) and the glazing was multi-colored (since replaced with brownish tint glass). We’ve included some photos below from LIFE magazine, that show the original design in all it’s sacred glory.

Photo from the San Francisco Public Library

Photo from “A Luster in Churches” LIFE, April 11, 1955

“A Luster in Churches” LIFE, April 11, 1955

We’ve come to the end of our little road trip across Northern California, checking out some amazing sacred architecture along the way. History is prone to disappear in today’s fast moving modern world, and people tend to forget the details when they’re not consistently reminded or required to present, so filling in the blanks becomes a necessary evil when it comes to doing architecture research on Modernist architecture that isn’t focused on big name starchitects. However, when you keep the focus on the human inside the (noteworthy) architecture, you are bound to find your way. I hope you’ve enjoyed this trip! And, as always, if you know of any great examples of sacred architecture yourself, please let us know! Send us an email or tag us @docomomonoca and #midcenturytravel on Instagram and Twitter.

Bastiaan de Vries lives and works in San Francisco. When he is not out scouring the streets for hidden and forgotten Mid Century Modern architecture, he’s at home working on imaginary designs of them. Find his work at Inner Space Architecture. Some of his favorite architects include João Batista Vilanova Artigas, Rudolph Schindler, and Louis Kahn. His favorite Mid Century Modern house in the Bay Area is the Donald and Helen Olsen House in Berkeley.

Travel and Leisure: Sacred Architecture Edition