An Orthodox church founded by members of Sts. Peter & Paul next door who fell on the Orthodox side rather than the Byzantine Catholic side—though Sts. Peter & Paul would swing Orthodox years later. The blue domes, next to the gold domes of Sts. Peter & Paul, are one of the most striking features of the view of Carnegie from the Parkway.
We believe that the architect was Daniel A. Crone, notable for the Kaiser Torah synagogue and the old Tree of Life, later the Public Theater, demolished a few years ago. In August of 1919, he was taking bids “for a Greek Catholic Church for St. Mary’s Greek Catholic Church, Carnegie, Pennsylvania.”1 Russian Orthodox churches were often described as “Greek Catholic” in those days, and this one is dedicated to the Intercession of the Holy Virgin and built in 1920, so the attribution is very likely.
A modernist church built in 1964 in traditional basilica form. The architect was J. Kenneth Myers. The church is dedicated to St. Nicholas of Myra, famous for giving gifts to poor children (thus inspiring our legend of Santa Claus) and for smacking Arius across the face at the Council of Nicaea. He was versatile.
Jolly old St. Nick slapping Arius. Ecumenical councils were a lot more fun in the old days.
It is a curious fact of our religious life that, even in the most depressed areas, the Eastern Catholic and Orthodox congregations often flourish, while the Western churches languish and evaporate one by one. This church is in a part of downtown McKeesport that can seem nearly abandoned—but not if you visit on a Sunday, when parishioners flock to St. Nicholas and the Russian Orthodox church just down the street.
The skeleton outline of an onion dome instantly conveys that this is an Eastern church.
Gladys Avenue was one of the richest streets in the middle-class neighborhood of Beechview. We’ve already seen a bungalow designed by the notable Pittsburgh architect W. Ward Williams. Here are a few more houses nearby, beginning with another designed by Williams, this one a generously sized Tudor—or English-style, as it would have been called in 1914, when it was built.
They’re nearly obscured by shrubbery, but note the very interesting sloped porch supports of this house that echo the curving slope of the roof.
A generously extra-large foursquare. Have you noticed that these first three houses all have unusual diamond panes in the upper sashes of some of their windows? Those were also a feature of the bungalow designed by W. Ward Williams on the same street, making us wonder whether Williams was responsible for all these houses.
Father Pitt had a nice conversation with the owner of this house, who tells us that it was built in about 1919. If you peer into the shadows behind the flag in the picture above, you may notice an exceptionally fine art-glass window in the parlor.
The mad genius, con man, and would-be dictator Titus de Bobula designed this church, which was built in 1906. Today and tomorrow the congregation is holding its annual Ukrainian food festival, which seems like a good time to celebrate the church and its ancillary buildings with a longer look than we’ve taken in the past.
The church has a complicated history, which you can read about on the parish site. We summarize it here. The congregation began as “St. Peter & St. Paul Russian Greek Catholic Church,” but what did “Greek Catholic” mean? The church was originally Byzantine Catholic, and just a few years after it was founded some members with Orthodox sympathies founded Holy Virgin Russian Orthodox Church, whose blue domes you see just down the street. Then the church separated from the Roman church and briefly became Orthodox; then for quite some time it was independent; then its priest put it back in the Byzantine Catholic orbit; then there were lawsuits; and finally, in 1951, the church became Ukrainian Orthodox, as it still is. (The Byzantine Catholics founded their own church, which still flourishes as Holy Trinity on Washington Avenue.)
This date stone seems to mark extensive renovations in 1961.
The original 1906 cornerstone is engraved in Titus de Bobula’s own distinctive Art Nouveau lettering—the same instantly recognizable lettering he used to sign his architectural renderings. On the other exposed side of the stone, we get to see his style applied to the Cyrillic alphabet.
Next to the church is the parish hall and school, which was designed by Harry H. Lefkowitz in 1928. Lefkowitz caught some of De Bobula’s quirks—note the tall, narrow blind side arches and the stonework over the central arch, for example—and created a building that fits with the church without being simply an imitation.
Finally, the rectory is a simple house, but built of the same brick and with quoins proportioned to echo the brickwork of the church next to it.
A splendid industrial building on Penn Avenue. The offices and showrooms were placed in a single row in the front, making an impressive and ornamental face for what would otherwise be a drab factory building.
Built in about 1893, this church was designed by James N. Campbell, who gave it his usual outsized corner tower with enormous open arches for the belfry. It was later known as Carnegie United Methodist Church, which left it a few years ago. But it appears to have been adopted as a community center by the prospering Attawheed Islamic Center next door in the old Presbyterian church, which the new owners obviously treasure and pour a lot of labor into, so we hope the future of the building is secure.
Looking down a steep slope on Fallowfield Avenue in Beechview. Bricks were used to pave relatively flat sections of streets in hilly neighborhoods, because bricks were cheap and durable. But bricks are slippery when wet or icy. More expensive Belgian block, which gives better traction, was used for slopes.
This was perhaps the last church designed by Titus de Bobula in his short architectural career, and it was an extraordinary work. It was faced entirely with concrete, and the architect gave free rein to his love of sweeping curves and tapering forms—note, for example, how the continuous tapering of the tower was supplemented by an inverted tapering of the arch at the entrance.
In the 1950s, the congregation built a much larger church from a design by the prolific Monessen church architect H. Ernest Clark. But the old church was kept as a social hall, and—thanks to the eagle eye of our correspondent David Schwing—we have discovered that the building is still standing.
Almost everything that made the church a unique work of art is gone. The windows are blocked in; the decorations are stripped off; the spire is gone and the tower truncated. But we can still see the outline of that unique arch at the entrance. And this is the only one of Titus de Bobula’s concrete-faced churches to have survived at all—at least as far as old Pa Pitt knows. With just a few minutes to stop in Glassport on his way from here to there, Father Pitt took a bunch of pictures with three different cameras to document the church before it succumbs to complete decay.
