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Apr. 11, 2004. 08:57 AM
A prayer for the city's great churches
Buildings decay as congregations shrink
St. Paul's shines after $3 million renovation
PATTI WINSA
TORONTO STAR
St. Anne's Anglican Church has seen better days. Despite its collection of Group of Seven paintings, the church, near Dufferin and College Sts., is lucky to attract 100 parishioners on a Sunday.
Even that's not as bad as it used to be, says Father Peter Orme, the church's rector. "Six years ago ... there were more people in the choir than in the seats."
In general, attendance at the city's churches began dwindling in the 1970s, and only levelled off in the last decade. That means there are fewer people to pay for upkeep of the buildings, some of which are underappreciated treasures.
The foundations of many Toronto churches were laid when the city itself was built. Yet whether they served poor immigrants or catered to the spiritual needs of Toronto's first families, some religious temples were rendered with flourishes that still inspire awe.
But despite their history, attendance is down and even tourists are scarce. Post-SARS, St. Michael's Cathedral was receiving about $75 U.S. a weekend in donations from U.S. tourists, says Monsignor Samuel Bianco. That was down from a pre-SARS average of about $1,100 U.S. This despite the fact that the cathedral is 10 years older than St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, a church which has a similar Gothic style and which attracts 3 million visitors and worshipers annually. St. Mike's, with about half the seating of St. Patrick's, attracts a tenth of that number.
When Tourism Toronto receives a call about one of the city's churches, it's usually to find out its schedule of services, not its history. Historic churches aren't even mentioned on its Web site.
Here's how three of the city's many historic churches are faring this Easter.
St. Anne's Anglican Church, 270 Gladstone Ave.
There was a time when this beautiful Byzantine jewel shone. In the early part of the last century, it had a thriving congregation and was decorated by three members of the Group of Seven.
By the end of the century, though, the historic paintings in St. Anne's were damaged by water seeping through its leaky roof — a roof that only covered about 100 parishioners on a Sunday.
When St. Anne's opened in 1908, it had seating for 1,600, enough to serve a growing Anglican population at the western edge of the city. By 1920, it was roaring, with a choir loft that could hold 95 singers and an Easter mass attended by 2,000. The "'20s and '30s were the glory days, when the Sunday school had 1,600 children," says Robin Sewell, a church member who gives public tours of the building.
It was around this time that a $5,000 legacy left by a parishioner allowed Rector Lawrence Skey to change the church's look. Skey, rector from 1902 to 1933, gave a commission to J.E.H. MacDonald, a Group of Seven artist who had written and spoken about the need to have Canadian artists decorate Canadian spaces.
Altogether, 10 artists worked on the church's paintings, including three from the Group of Seven — MacDonald, Frank Carmichael, and Fred Varley.
"People thought it was very strange that (MacDonald) was given the commission, because his own personal artwork had been criticized in Saturday Night magazine as being too wild," says Sewell. "But MacDonald had lived in England and had seen other Byzantine churches, so he knew how to do it."
The oil-on-canvas paintings took about six months to do, and were completed in 1923. They tell the important stories of Christ's life, with rectangular paintings on the half dome of the chancel and four inverted triangular paintings on the pillars that support the church's central dome.
It was these paintings that earned the church its designation in 1998 as a National Historic Site under Parks Canada. And, when water leaked in that year and poured across the paintings, it was Parks Canada that gave the church a $400,000 grant to repair the roof.
That was five years ago. Today, the church is not the jewel it was. Rector Peter Orme says the average attendance is 100 in a church that has been altered to seat around 900. "We have a hard time just paying the bills," he says.
St. Paul's Basilica, 83 Power St.
St. Paul's is a Roman Catholic church that often has as few parishioners as St. Anne's on Sunday. It is situated in neighbourhood far from Toronto's wealthy streets. "We're so poor we could never really pay our bills," says Monsignor Brad Massman.
Despite that, St. Paul's Basilica, built from 1887 to 1889, is at the tail end of a $3-million-plus restoration that began about six years ago.
Layers of paint were peeled away from paintings damaged by yet another leaky roof. The stained glass was taken out, cleaned and re-leaded. The church hopes to finish lighting the Stations of the Cross by the end of the month. The Archdiocese of Toronto paid for the restoration of the church, considered "an undiscovered jewel" by Cardinal Aloysius Ambrozic.
And it is just that. Enter on a day when sunshine filters through an upper clerestory window into the dim interior and you feel like you could be in Italy. In fact, during a period when most churches in the city were being built Gothic, St. Paul's was created in the Italian Renaissance style, under the direction of architect Joseph Connolly.
A Belgian artist about whom little is known painted the alternating colour and monochromatic ceiling paintings, which tell the story of St. Paul. On one wall is The Last Supper, a reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci's painting.
The current building stands on the site of the first St. Paul's, which was built in 1824. It became the lifeblood for Irish immigrants who survived a typhus epidemic that swept through the city in 1847, killing 850 residents. Many of them are buried in mass graves on the church grounds.
Today, the church serves about 600 families, many of them immigrants. Every morning, the church feeds 125 children, and every month, 250 families go through its food bank. The church was "the heart of the poor in this area and it still is," says Massman.
St. Michael's Cathedral, 200 Church St.
The first bishop of the new Diocese of Toronto never lived to see the cathedral that would have been his seat. Instead, Bishop Michael Power died at the age of 43 while ministering to the sick during the 1847 typhus epidemic.
He lived long enough to lay the cornerstone of the church in 1845, but died in 1847, a year before St. Michael's was completed. He is buried in the crypt below the cathedral.
It was Power's advisor, John Elmsley, who had convinced him to build St. Mike's in the English Gothic tradition of York Minister Cathedral in England. The result was a 19th-century interpretation of that style. And in the cornerstone were bits of wood and stone from an earlier version of York Minister that Elmsley had collected on his travels through England.
The original St. Michael's would have looked much different than it does today, especially since the tower and steeple weren't added until 1866. The cream-coloured brick building wasn't decorated until after it was finished: clear-glass windows were replaced with stained glass from France, one window done by the same artist who stained windows for Notre-Dame de Paris. The Stations of the Cross, also from France, were added later.
Today, this church, too, needs major restoration. St. Michael's brings in enough to meet its expenses — about $2 million annually for prayer, counselling and outreach work.
An architectural study commissioned by the church determined that $35 million is needed to restore the church, both inside and out, says Monsignor Samuel Bianco. Portions of the interior were updated for the Pope's visit in 1980 but others date back to 1937.
The archdiocese will pay the $4 million it will take to fix the foundations of the church this year, but more money is needed to fix the cathedral, and a campaign is planned to help raise those funds. But, says Bianco, ``any campaign would also include us asking to do more for the poor people of the area. That's a big priority with us."
Apr. 11, 2004. 08:57 AM
A prayer for the city's great churches
Buildings decay as congregations shrink
St. Paul's shines after $3 million renovation
PATTI WINSA
TORONTO STAR
St. Anne's Anglican Church has seen better days. Despite its collection of Group of Seven paintings, the church, near Dufferin and College Sts., is lucky to attract 100 parishioners on a Sunday.
Even that's not as bad as it used to be, says Father Peter Orme, the church's rector. "Six years ago ... there were more people in the choir than in the seats."
In general, attendance at the city's churches began dwindling in the 1970s, and only levelled off in the last decade. That means there are fewer people to pay for upkeep of the buildings, some of which are underappreciated treasures.
The foundations of many Toronto churches were laid when the city itself was built. Yet whether they served poor immigrants or catered to the spiritual needs of Toronto's first families, some religious temples were rendered with flourishes that still inspire awe.
But despite their history, attendance is down and even tourists are scarce. Post-SARS, St. Michael's Cathedral was receiving about $75 U.S. a weekend in donations from U.S. tourists, says Monsignor Samuel Bianco. That was down from a pre-SARS average of about $1,100 U.S. This despite the fact that the cathedral is 10 years older than St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York, a church which has a similar Gothic style and which attracts 3 million visitors and worshipers annually. St. Mike's, with about half the seating of St. Patrick's, attracts a tenth of that number.
When Tourism Toronto receives a call about one of the city's churches, it's usually to find out its schedule of services, not its history. Historic churches aren't even mentioned on its Web site.
Here's how three of the city's many historic churches are faring this Easter.
St. Anne's Anglican Church, 270 Gladstone Ave.
There was a time when this beautiful Byzantine jewel shone. In the early part of the last century, it had a thriving congregation and was decorated by three members of the Group of Seven.
By the end of the century, though, the historic paintings in St. Anne's were damaged by water seeping through its leaky roof — a roof that only covered about 100 parishioners on a Sunday.
When St. Anne's opened in 1908, it had seating for 1,600, enough to serve a growing Anglican population at the western edge of the city. By 1920, it was roaring, with a choir loft that could hold 95 singers and an Easter mass attended by 2,000. The "'20s and '30s were the glory days, when the Sunday school had 1,600 children," says Robin Sewell, a church member who gives public tours of the building.
It was around this time that a $5,000 legacy left by a parishioner allowed Rector Lawrence Skey to change the church's look. Skey, rector from 1902 to 1933, gave a commission to J.E.H. MacDonald, a Group of Seven artist who had written and spoken about the need to have Canadian artists decorate Canadian spaces.
Altogether, 10 artists worked on the church's paintings, including three from the Group of Seven — MacDonald, Frank Carmichael, and Fred Varley.
"People thought it was very strange that (MacDonald) was given the commission, because his own personal artwork had been criticized in Saturday Night magazine as being too wild," says Sewell. "But MacDonald had lived in England and had seen other Byzantine churches, so he knew how to do it."
The oil-on-canvas paintings took about six months to do, and were completed in 1923. They tell the important stories of Christ's life, with rectangular paintings on the half dome of the chancel and four inverted triangular paintings on the pillars that support the church's central dome.
It was these paintings that earned the church its designation in 1998 as a National Historic Site under Parks Canada. And, when water leaked in that year and poured across the paintings, it was Parks Canada that gave the church a $400,000 grant to repair the roof.
That was five years ago. Today, the church is not the jewel it was. Rector Peter Orme says the average attendance is 100 in a church that has been altered to seat around 900. "We have a hard time just paying the bills," he says.
St. Paul's Basilica, 83 Power St.
St. Paul's is a Roman Catholic church that often has as few parishioners as St. Anne's on Sunday. It is situated in neighbourhood far from Toronto's wealthy streets. "We're so poor we could never really pay our bills," says Monsignor Brad Massman.
Despite that, St. Paul's Basilica, built from 1887 to 1889, is at the tail end of a $3-million-plus restoration that began about six years ago.
Layers of paint were peeled away from paintings damaged by yet another leaky roof. The stained glass was taken out, cleaned and re-leaded. The church hopes to finish lighting the Stations of the Cross by the end of the month. The Archdiocese of Toronto paid for the restoration of the church, considered "an undiscovered jewel" by Cardinal Aloysius Ambrozic.
And it is just that. Enter on a day when sunshine filters through an upper clerestory window into the dim interior and you feel like you could be in Italy. In fact, during a period when most churches in the city were being built Gothic, St. Paul's was created in the Italian Renaissance style, under the direction of architect Joseph Connolly.
A Belgian artist about whom little is known painted the alternating colour and monochromatic ceiling paintings, which tell the story of St. Paul. On one wall is The Last Supper, a reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci's painting.
The current building stands on the site of the first St. Paul's, which was built in 1824. It became the lifeblood for Irish immigrants who survived a typhus epidemic that swept through the city in 1847, killing 850 residents. Many of them are buried in mass graves on the church grounds.
Today, the church serves about 600 families, many of them immigrants. Every morning, the church feeds 125 children, and every month, 250 families go through its food bank. The church was "the heart of the poor in this area and it still is," says Massman.
St. Michael's Cathedral, 200 Church St.
The first bishop of the new Diocese of Toronto never lived to see the cathedral that would have been his seat. Instead, Bishop Michael Power died at the age of 43 while ministering to the sick during the 1847 typhus epidemic.
He lived long enough to lay the cornerstone of the church in 1845, but died in 1847, a year before St. Michael's was completed. He is buried in the crypt below the cathedral.
It was Power's advisor, John Elmsley, who had convinced him to build St. Mike's in the English Gothic tradition of York Minister Cathedral in England. The result was a 19th-century interpretation of that style. And in the cornerstone were bits of wood and stone from an earlier version of York Minister that Elmsley had collected on his travels through England.
The original St. Michael's would have looked much different than it does today, especially since the tower and steeple weren't added until 1866. The cream-coloured brick building wasn't decorated until after it was finished: clear-glass windows were replaced with stained glass from France, one window done by the same artist who stained windows for Notre-Dame de Paris. The Stations of the Cross, also from France, were added later.
Today, this church, too, needs major restoration. St. Michael's brings in enough to meet its expenses — about $2 million annually for prayer, counselling and outreach work.
An architectural study commissioned by the church determined that $35 million is needed to restore the church, both inside and out, says Monsignor Samuel Bianco. Portions of the interior were updated for the Pope's visit in 1980 but others date back to 1937.
The archdiocese will pay the $4 million it will take to fix the foundations of the church this year, but more money is needed to fix the cathedral, and a campaign is planned to help raise those funds. But, says Bianco, ``any campaign would also include us asking to do more for the poor people of the area. That's a big priority with us."
