Did the stones of Church of Our Saviour ever dream of air conditioning? This Romanesque beauty, completed in 1959, was the first church in New York City designed with a built-in cooling system. The architect, Paul C. Reilly, cleverly concealed the modern machinery within the church’s tower. Church of Our Saviour isn’t just a cool sanctuary in the summer heat. It’s a testament to the changing times. The parish, established in 1955, was created to alleviate overcrowding in nearby churches like St. Agnes and Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. The area, Murray Hill, was experiencing a boom in construction. The new Church of Our Saviour was meant to serve the growing number of residents and workers. The land, once home to four and five-story dwellings, was purchased in 1953 for $700,000. The church replaced St. Gabriel Church, demolished to make way for the Queens–Midtown Tunnel approach. Before Church of Our Saviour was complete, parishioners attended mass in the Allerton Room of the Midston House. Later, a provisional chapel was set up in a rented townhouse at 72 Park Avenue. The clergy resided next door at the 70 Park Avenue Hotel. Interestingly, the townhouse was later integrated into the hotel, which was renamed the Doral Park Avenue. The limestone exterior of Church of Our Saviour involved an interesting tale. Securing stone carvers proved challenging. Many were working on projects in Baltimore and Washington D.C. A 71-year-old carver was brought out of retirement. The union even permitted the use of air hammers, significantly speeding up the process. Inside the church, Languedoc marble pillars flank the sanctuary. These 17-foot high columns were turned in Italy due to the lack of a sufficiently large lathe in New York. Church of Our Saviour also houses a set of Stations of the Cross by Constantino Brumidi, originally from St. Stephen the Martyr Church. These paintings were restored and installed in 2016. Church of Our Saviour, now merged with St. Stephen/Our Lady of the Scapular and the Chapel of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, stands as a symbol of adaptation and resilience. Its story weaves through changing cityscapes, construction challenges, and artistic preservation, offering a unique glimpse into the vibrant tapestry of New York City’s religious history.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to