
Chrysler Building anyone? Actually, it's Mundelein Hall!

It was very cold. Here is the chapel from the rear. In front sits Lake Michigan.

Decorative railing

Altar too

The Tabernacle

A Station

Processional Cross

Lots of lines

It's a lake
life for an aspiring numen facilitator in the heart of the USA- musings on music, history, books, other arts, and a host of many and sundry issues as they pertain to me and my cultural milieu
"Madonna of the Way." I think this reminds us well that Christian living is a ceaseless journey. Maybe this also suggests to us the nature of healthy Marian Theology- it's going toward Christ. The focus belongs on Him (read: overt Marian theology creeps me out). I happened upon an article in the online Loyola Magazine that exemplifies what I believe is this true spirit of Catholic journey, inquiry, and progress (see link below). It speaks of the Cassaretto family. To summarize: A bright, young Frank Cassaretto attends Northwestern in the late-1920's. He believes that science and religion are not only compatible but inseparable (remarkably progressive considering this is decades before "Fides et Ratio!") When his chemistry professor suggested that by class's end there would be no room for God Frank left and headed straight down to Loyola. His family hasn't left since- and they've made quite the name for themselves it seems. This was all very interesting to me for several reasons: I've been having quite a few discussions about the apparent contradictions between faith and science lately; I think it's refreshing that there are people who will stand up and proudly say they found faith at a Jesuit school; and...I think the Cassaretto's helped build a damned good chapel! http://www.luc.edu/loyolamagazine/summer07/FamilyTies.html
of Art Deco in Catholic Chicagoland- at least among churches. (Next door, Mundelein Hall features some sculpted angels flanking the doorway that look like they came straight off the Chrysler Building!) However, it has been a long time in the making. Though the structure was remarkably completed in the midst of the Great Depression it wasn't until 1948 that the interior walls could even be plastered. In truth, the interior was never quite completed- until now. An interior renovation/completion project which began in 2004 has nearly ended. In January I had the privilege of experiencing this new space. My friends were initially struck by the relative simplicity of the room- which I expected. Many people display a predilection for the 'busy' decorative scheme, a kind of 'gothic' prejudice in Church design. This is no such animal. But neither is it the barren, so-called 'neo-iconoclasm' that so many people fear in churches today. (It's Art Deco!) Where there are images, and there are plenty, they are in rich and vivid color, stylized figures with clean lines, clearly respecting the Art Deco theme. It is a bright sanctuary- the walls are white and ample natural light flows in through a number of windows. This clarity only heightens the impact of the rich iconic material. The fresco behind the altar as well as the Stations of the Cross, both with gold-leaf, are the work of Turkish-born iconographer Meltem Aktas.
on and marble, form an elegant and cohesive visual statement. I especially like the floor in Madonna della Strada. The picture above shows what's going on here. Gray tile from a 1982 renovation was removed and replaced with Italian marble of several varieties. The marble is arranged such that it forms inlaid sleek-lined designs which add remarkable richness to the room. The floor patterns in the main aisle point processionally from the baptismal font to the altar- symbolic of our Christian journey, and the name of the chapel itself.
ts plaster walls, barrel-vaulted ceiling, and polished marble floor has the wettest acoustic I've ever encountered in a church of its size (which is relatively small, surprisingly). It seems the S.J. powers-that-be spared no expense in this renovation. I was, however, a little skeptical when it came to the music part, only because the Jesuits haven't been known for their love of the organ in the last few decades. I was, accordingly, delighted to find that they've commissioned an instrument for Madonna della Strada which will make a sonic statement rivaling the room's visual eloquence in excellence. This coming summer Goulding & Wood of Indianapolis will install its Opus 47- a 3-manual, 70-rank instrument which takes its tonal inspiration straight out of 19th-century France. They have specifications on their website: http://www.gouldingandwood.com/main.htm. This will sound positively brilliant- and be worth every dime of the mint it surely cost. I think this is cause for a return visit! The installation of the organ will mark the last phase of the renovation. If Mr. Cassaretto were alive, I think he'd be happy to see the Chapel in its full splendor. And the sound of that instrument...I think it could bring anyone to God, chemists at Northwestern included.
A couple of months ago I was introduced to Dr. Ricardo Ramirez, music director and organist of Holy Name Cathedral, by a mutual friend at a concert. Dr. Ramirez is a wonderful man and a talented musician with quite the resume. In addition to his D.M.A. he holds a grad degree in electrical engineering. Not many organists can boast that kind of versatility! (Well, Naji Hakim). If I recall correctly he did some collaborative work with a dance troupe as well! In any case, I took him up on an offer to visit the organ. His secretary called, responding to my message, while we were at SS. Faith, Hope and Charity to say Dr. Ramirez could show me to the organ at 1pm. It was 12:40 and I was in Winnetka. "That's great," I said, and without a moment's delay we hopped in the car and headed down the Kennedy. People were returning from lunch so traffic was a bit hectic. I hopped out a few blocks up State Street and ran down to the Cathedral- only five minutes late. But alas, he was not there. I was a little upset with myself but the docent sent me around the block to the rectory. And there he was.
action organ in Chicago-land. A projected conceived by then-music director Richard Proulx, it was built in 1989 at the Flentrop workshop in Zaandam, Holland and generously funded by Alice O'Malley Robinson as a memorial for her husband. Pictures, as usual, don't quite do it justice. Visually I think it looks quite striking in the room, which itself has been tastefully and sensitively renovated. (A great example of how styles can be blended!) The organ is absolutely huge- physically and sonically, coming in at 117-ranks. And recordings don't do it justice either, mostly because there aren't any. Dr. Ramirez explained that there are no recordings of this superb instrument because for the longest time the acoustics didn't do it justice. I had to agree. I went to Mass at Holy Name over four years ago and recall the sound of the room was awfully stifled. However, much has changed. The entire floor has been redone- no more carpet, all terrazzo- hooray! I'm guessing this will usher in a new era wherein the world may soon be able to encounter something of this instrument's amazing sound. They have quite the choir too!
unds. Nevertheless it was quite amazing. Ricardo gave me a brief demonstration. Some interesting highlights: certain chorus reed stops can be turned so that they are controlled by a pedal lever. Though they aren't on separate chests they act "effectively as ventil levers." This certainly comes in handy with French Romantic literature. Also, on the swell sits one of the finest voiced 1' flutes anyone will encounter. It's not at all shrill, not like olden-times Reuter upper-work- this positively glistens. Ricardo played a little Messiaen excerpt to show off the stop. Though there is no mechanical assistance he said it is never terribly heavy. A four manual tracker looks quite formidable! And speaking of which, glancing at the console you think you're looking at a giant 17th Century North-German instrument. Not so- this has all kinds of reeds, foundations, and mutations. And some of the voicing seems downright warm. In noodling around for a bit I found that the flutes have a fairly rich sound- and the celeste is hardly anemic. I expressed my surprise and Ricardo concurred, "there's nothing you can't play on it."