No, that’s not a typo; we are actually visiting Bryn Mawr this week. I realize this is the *Philadelphia* Church Project, but avid fans are aware that we have never limited ourselves to just the Philadelphia area. That makes up the bulk of our work, but we’ve made excursions to surrounding areas before, such as Jenkintown and Bryn Athyn. If a worthy church exists, the Project won’t snub it simply because it doesn’t fall within city limits.
That’s certainly the case here. I was intrigued by Our Mother of Good Counsel, which, despite its suburban location, struck me as the kind of crazy, cool old buildings we love so dearly.
Unfortunately, as the Project knows all too well, appearances can be deceiving.
The St. Cyprian Effect: Perhaps the cruelest theorem, the St. Cyprian Effect gets our hopes up with nifty exteriors—and then kicks us in the groin with questionable interiors. From the outside, OMGC boasts a mildly creepy, coolly twisted and funky gothic look, highlighted by pointed arches on the windows and the doors, and a sizeable front window.
The interior isn’t bad, per se, but it has a number of problematic elements. Things start off well, with a standard columned, cruciform Gothic design. So far, so good.
But then it quickly goes to, err, hell. The plaster, you see, is unadorned. As the pictures show, there’s really very little ornamentation. Aside from the decent windows and some murals that frame the altar, you’re bathed in an incessantly plain, white nightmare. (Just like the Main Line! Ba-dum ching!) I don’t think this is an original design choice; religious architects in 1897 wouldn’t have let this stand. According to Father Dennis McGowan, it goes back at least as far as 25 years ago, when it was last painted.
Further problems arise with the use of the cruciform shape. See, traditional church construction utilizes the form of the ancient Roman basilicas—notably, a long hall (or nave) that terminates in a sanctuary, where the altar, etc. is located. Since the sanctuary is the most spiritually important part of the church, it’s separated from the nave, either by arches, pillars or even a simple rail. The cruciform shape adds yet another layer of separation, as the transept (the transverse part) intercepts the nave right in front of the sanctuary.
Instead of keeping the sanctuary where it should be, OMGC has extended it out into the transept, eliminating any sense of separation between it and the rest of the church. We’ve only seen this once before, in St. Vincent de Paul. But Vincent wasn’t a cruciform church anyway, so it didn’t matter as much. (Vincent’s also had so much other wackiness going on that I barely noticed.) It's a tacky, modern affectation that insults the church's classic form. And, I should note, my refined sensibilities.
In the end….OMGC isn’t very special.
Size Rating: 7.5 out of 10
Ornamentation Rating: 7.5 out of 10
Overall Design Rating: 7.5 out of 10 crosses
UPDATE: Project Reader and former OMGC parishioner Judy McElderry confirms that the current decor is not original. At least until 1965, the interior was painted yellow ocher and featured extensive stenciling, and the church had more pews and an altar rail.
