Marble – onetruekev

With a name like that you would expect the church to be a little chapel stuck away on a cul-de-sac in a suburb. And when it was built it was on the mews of a back street. However it is only commonly known as Farm Street Church, its proper (and grander) title is The Church of the Immaculate Conception. It is tucked away between Farm Street and Mount Street Gardens in Mayfair, and from the outside it seems a typical Victorian Gothic revival style church in stone.

Tucked away between red brick buildings that are taller than it. And the back entrance onto Mount Street is even less prepossessing.

It is fairly unremarkable from the outside and is the kind of church that you might nip into if it was raining and the pubs weren’t open.

Then there is the inside. Now, before going in I knew that this was a Catholic church, built after restrictions were lifted in the early 19th century, and therefore I wasn’t holding my breath. First, because being a Catholic in England, most of the churches I’ve been to are austere little prayer cubicles; and secondly how could it compare to All Saints that we’d already visited earlier in the day.

What I didn’t know is that it was a Jesuit church, and therefore there is marble, stained glass, gilding, statues and general grandiose to be seen all around.

It is set out more in the style of a cathedral with chapels along both side aisles of the church. If it had gallery seating above the chapels then it would have been laid out and styled nearly the same as the JesuitKirchen in Vienna. The marble and statues were very similar. Unlike in most churches the stations of the cross weren’t subtle markers around the walls, they were large square bright paintings adorning the walls in groups to the south east corner and chapels.

The nave is high with clerestory windows to each side, with low aisles, probably built that way to allow light in when the building to either side were growing higher than the church. It is unusual in that the nave runs south to north instead of the traditional west to east. Again this would have been due to the surrounding buildings preventing the usual orientation.

The Jesuits found the site in the early 1840’s, and the church was completed by 1849 in a decorated Gothic style, the front of the church being inspired by Beauvais Cathedral. The altar was designed by Augustus Pugin, one of the most celebrated church architects of the Victorian era.

The church was damaged during the second world war and was remodelled in 1951 by Adrian Gilbert Scott, grandson of George Gilbert Scott, probably the most famous of all Victorian church architects, known for Gothic overkill on more churches than most people have had hot dinners.

Speaking of which, the Christianity of the church was somewhat of a reverse to that of All Saints. One of the first things we noticed as we came in from the Mount Street entrance (i.e. the back door) was a statue of a homeless person lying on a bench in the first side chapel. Conspicuous by their absence inside the building were any actual homeless people. They were huddled up in sleeping bags in doorways of buildings to either side of the church.

Although Helen pointed out that it was easy to recognise that it was a Catholic church as there were actually people in there praying, it wasn’t just tourists having a mooch about as it normally is in Church of England churches.

Farm Street church is another one that Simon Jenkins has written about, it making his book England’s Thousand Best Churches, and although he only gives it two stars (shockingly low) he does say about it “Not an inch of wall surface is without decoration, and this is the austere 1840’s, not the colourful late Victorian era.”

Standing in the central aisle the stained glass at either end of the church really stands out. As you would enter for a service you couldn’t help but notice the huge window behind the altar.

But you wouldn’t notice the splendid rose window above the entrance until you were returning from communion, or on your way out.

They would make an impression on you at the start and end of every visit.

The church is now home to the London LGBT Catholics and has been since 2013. This is how times change, as it had, albeit 116 years previous, refused a request for a six-month retreat there from Oscar Wilde.

On any normal day I would have been blown away by the church’s magnificence, and it is definitely one of the best non cathedrals I’ve seen in this country. Its only problem is that I saw it the same day as I’d been in All Saints.

Still, I would recommend giving it a visit if you get the chance (and you can find it.)

Hot on the heels of a busy weekend came another one. Having managed to get some last minute doggy day care we made our way to London while it was still the morning. I’d booked us into a hotel in Acton, so we decided to drive. It was a reasonably smooth journey (apart from the M3 junction as usual), and there was a room available for an early check in.

The main reason for the hotel was the gig we were going to that evening, and that I was off to a conference Sunday morning, so it was easier than travelling up and down like a yo-yo.

With an afternoon to play with we took the Central Line to St. Paul’s. It’s strange, we’ve been to London plenty of times, and have been past, or could clearly see the dome of the Cathedral on many occasions; but we hadn’t visited it. I had been in the past a couple of times, but Helen had never been.

As we approached through Paternoster Square you see glimpses of the Cathedral through alleyways, but up close the scale of the building can be overwhelming. We took a leisurely stroll around the outside of the building; taking in the features, statues and grandeur of the building; which much to my chagrin, I have seemed to take for granted. I have been abroad to various cities and drooled over the size, scale and grandeur of their buildings, all whilst passing St Paul’s with a shrug and comment of “Yeah, it’s St. Paul’s.”

There are times we bemoan paying to get into some of our medieval, grand Cathedrals in the UK. All whilst not blinking about paying to do the same when abroad. A £20 fee may seem a lot, but we’ve paid €25 to get into the Sagrada Familia, or €20 for the Berliner Dom, and St. Paul’s is worth as much if not more than either of them.

The scale is just breath taking. As are the artwork and statues within the Cathedral. There is just so much to see, and to try and take in. So many monuments, it is just a majestic marble magnificence.

The last time I had been to St. Paul’s, the stairs up had been completely closed. This time the Whispering Gallery was closed, but the Stone and Golden galleries were open, so off up the stairs we went. All 548 of them up and all 548 of them down. It isn’t easy, but the couple of twenty something blokes I overtook on the way up must need to think about a fitness regime. If an old, fat, unhealthy git with dodgy knees and a mortal fear of gyms can trundle past them, then something is wrong with them.

I’m not great with heights, which I’m sure I’ve mentioned a few times before, but whenever we get the chance, we seem to make our way to the top of any structure we visit that allows for such things. And it is almost unfailingly worth the climb (or lift in some cases). This was no exception.

The views across London from the Stone Gallery, on a clear crisp November day were stunning. And they were even better from the higher Golden Gallery.

It is very noticeable from up there just how many other churches were rebuilt around St. Paul’s in such a small area of London. They call Prague the city of a thousand spires, but London cannot be far behind, and it is so much easier to notice that from atop of the dome.

The journey down was so much easier, and so much so that we carried on down into the crypt.

The crypt would be worth visiting in its own right. It is bigger than most churches in the country, and the monuments would put most art galleries around the world to shame. It’s difficult to walk past or on a slab that doesn’t have a famous person’s name on it.

There are two huge monuments in the crypt, both of which hark back to the Napoleonic Wars. The Duke of Wellington and Admiral Nelson dominate the space under the choir and chancel of the main Cathedral. Around the outside of these chambers, the larger memorials are all to those who fought in various wars.

The memorial to Florence Nightingale is signposted, but it is smaller than others there, and it is on the wall of the crypt. Saving lives obviously wasn’t as important in the church’s eyes, and they couldn’t have possibly put up a large tomb for a woman could they?

There are now various displays in the crypt; a history and timeline of both the current church building and the previous buildings that have stood on the site since 604AD; and a gallery of modern day images painted of the cathedral in a bright almost pop-art style.

They also have scale models of the current and previous Cathedrals next to each other in display cases. You see how large the current Cathedral is, and then you look at the old Cathedral and realise it was longer, wider and its main tower and spire was much higher. Then you can imagine if that building had survived what a sight it would be now. Although if it had we would never have the current spectacular building.

There is still plenty of space to exit through the large gift shop (yes; pen, fridge magnet and guide book), and an even larger café, before we came out up some more stairs, not blinking into the light, but to find out it was nearly dark. Time to head back to the hotel.