Apr 8: Downtown Architecture
The Capital Dome
Gazing upward at the dome of the capitol, an incredible feeling of completeness overwhelms my senses. Concentric circles emanate from the seal on the ground that I lay on toward the heavens. Perfect geometric patterns etch out orderly designs, and these designs seem to be of a divine origin. A beacon from the natural world, sunlight washes this structure in varying degrees of brightness, itself a pattern or design but certainly not manmade.
The dome defines a space that seems intrinsically complete. The
space is spherical and open. No sharp points or crevices hide the
space from the viewer. This space is open and honest.
However, despite its openness and completeness, this space still has a
sense of mystery.
The mystery of the
capital dome starts with the question “why”, as in “why does this
exist?” The dome does not create this space. In face this
same exact space exists in an infinite number of locations throughout
the universe. The critical fact is that this dome was defined for
a purpose, a human purpose. Defining this space and organizing it
in a meaningful way expresses the human desire to sanctify this
specific location.
The purposefulness of
this dome’s placements indicates that this space is not marked
arbitrarily. The dome represents the specific location of the
state of Texas’s democratic center. The dome’s completeness and
perfection in form implies that the democracy marked by this space is
also complete and perfect.
The dome is
the perfect symbol of democracy for other reasons. The structure
has its roots in Roman architecture and has been used to mark many
seats of law. However, the dome also has been used in building
cathedrals. The dome’s religious associations are particularly
appropriate because they imply that democracy and law are not simply
mundane entities and derive their power from something greater and
perhaps even from something divine.
St. Mary’s Cathedral
Although I am Catholic, I don’t feel “at home” in this cathedral, or
any cathedral for that matter. A combination of stained glass,
intricate geometric details, and marble embellishments imbues this
space with a transcendental quality. The rose window opposite the
altar and above the choir embodies this idea of the
transcendental. It emits a supernatural spectrum of colored
light, Abot Suger’s Lux Nova.
The Lux
Nova, or “new light,” that found its way inside Catholic Cathedrals at
the beginning of the Gothic period was an invention of Abot
Suger. He renovated Saint Denis Cathedral in France in the 12th
century and made the first step towards the Gothic style. He
replaced the rounded arches with pointed ones, allowing the cathedral
to be taller and more narrow. Using lighter stones to build the
arches, Suger was also able to incorporate one of the most essential
architectural elements to Saint Denis—the walls of stained
glass.
Lux Nova: The Rose Window at St. Mary's Cathedral
Sitting inside this cathedral, I feel the very same mystical effect
that the early Gothics experienced when walking past walls of stained
glass. Their neoplatonic orientation interpreted the colored
light to be something purely spiritual, an ascent from the material
world.
This transcendental experience I
have in cathedrals is not alienating, although I do not feel at
home. The supernatural character of these houses of God is
entirely appropriate and leaves visitors, both Catholics and not,
awestruck.