The cornerstone of this church was laid in 1959, which for the moment is all old Pa Pitt knows about it. The style is the New England Colonial that became popular to the point of mania among suburban congregations with conservative tastes after the Second World War, and this is a tasteful and attractive example of it.
This church was built in 1897 for a congregation known as the East End Presbyterian Church. The architect was E. B. Milligan of Wilkinsburg. The congregation later became known as the Waverly Presbyterian Church (because it was on Waverly Street), which in 1929 built a much larger church a few blocks away. The Refuge Church of God in Christ now lives in this building.
An illustration published when the church was dedicated in 1897 shows a cap on the tower that has since disappeared.
The stone porch is the most remarkable thing about this church; it seems to lift the whole building out of the residential streets around it and into a different world.
Now the Homewood Church of Christ, a congregation that keeps the building in beautiful shape. Old Pa Pitt was out walking in Homewood a while ago when he spotted this church two blocks away. He immediately thought, “That looks like a Lutheran church designed by O. M. Topp.”
And so it was.1 The cornerstone, as we see, was laid in 1916, at a time when O. M. Topp was the favorite architect of Lutherans in Pittsburgh and the surrounding area. Lutheran churches from before the Second World War have a characteristic traditional church shape, like Catholic and Episcopalian churches but unlike the majority of Presbyterian, Methodist, and Baptist churches in our area. O. M. Topp’s designs for medium-sized churches like this one have a straightforward Gothic simplicity that marks them as his work.
Note the rectangular windows where most Gothic architects would place Gothic arches.
Source: Pittsburg Press, April 23, 1916, p. 20 “O. M. Topp has been selected to prepare plans for the rebuilding of a $40,000 church at Hamilton and Brushton aves., for the St. Stephens’ Evangelical Lutheran congregation.” ↩︎
Ingham & Boyd designed this beautiful church for a congregation that is still hanging on, now yoked with Swissvale Presbyterian Church. When they were built, though, the churches served different denominations: this one was a congregation of the United Presbyterians, a Pittsburgh-based splinter group that broke off from the main body of Presbyterians in the United States in 1858 and would later merge with them again in 1958, one century and two days after the split.
Every detail of this church is chosen both for its own exquisite beauty and for its contribution to the composition as a whole. Nothing is out of place.
As the cornerstone tells us, the church was built in 1915. Ingham & Boyd usually worked in a classical style for public buildings, such as their dozens of schools; but their relatively few churches are Gothic, and buildings like this one make us wish they had given us more churches.
Siting a building is an art in itself, and one to which Ingham & Boyd paid particular attention. This church looms in the distance as we come eastward on Biddle Avenue like a heavenly vision.
The view is different coming northward on Hay Street: here we are confronted by what looks like an English village.
With a long lens, we can appreciate the woodwork in these dormers.
It seems to old Pa Pitt that Charles W. Bier was a true original among our architects. He was not our greatest artist, but he developed a distinct style that was altogether his own. We may enroll him in our little club of early modernists, but he came at modernism in his own unique way. He combined regional Victorian variants of Gothic ornament with his own angular interpretation of the Art Nouveau that was wafting over from Germany and Austria. This church, whose cornerstone was laid in 1914, is one of his most characteristic works—and you could buy it right now, in good shape, with a fresh Pittsburgh History & Landmarks Foundation plaque on the front.
Whenever you see a very broad and shallow arch with strong vertical lines above it, you should suspect Charles Bier.
Another of the seven closing churches in the inner eastern suburbs. The dominant feature of this one, built as St. Michael’s in 1929–1930, is the huge octagonal lantern.
Addendum: The architect was Carlton Strong, according to Van Trump & Ziegler’s Landmark Architecture of Allegheny County (1967), p. 163.
The interior of the church is much more auditorium-like than most Catholic churches of its era, probably because a square lot forced it to make that adaptation.
Another one of the seven closing churches in the near eastern suburbs. The exterior has the kind of “noble simplicity” American bishops love to praise, while at the same time maintaining a traditional look.
The best description old Pa Pitt can come up with for the interior is “straightforward.” It is not spectacular, but it works for Christian liturgy, with everything in the right place and room for devotional art of the right sorts.
A dramatic Last Supper painting behind the altar shows all the disciples in characteristic poses, including tortured Judas clutching his bag of money and stewing over what he’s about to do. (Click or tap on the picture to enlarge it.)
The stained glass is also straightforward. To Father Pitt’s nose it has a strong scent of illustrated Sunday-school supplement about it, but it tells the Bible stories in a way that we can immediately recognize. Above, John the Baptist and the Annunciation.
Joseph and the child Jesus (who has made himself a model cross); Jesus praying in the wilderness.
The Transfiguration; the Twelve adoring Mary.
Adam and Eve cast out of the Garden of Eden; the angel staying the hand of Abraham as he is about to sacrifice Isaac.
Manna from heaven; Moses, seeing the golden calf, about the smash the tablets of the Law.
Addendum: The church, built beginning in 1955 as St. Aloysius, was designed by William York Cocken and Edward J. Hergenroeder. The basement, however, was built in 1914 and temporarily roofed over, but multiple delays (including two big wars and a Depression) kept the congregation in that temporary basement church for more than forty years.1
The first reaction of most visitors to Madonna del Castello is astonishment that such a thing even exists. The sanctuary hovers over the parking lot on spindly legs like some giant beetle ready to march out into the streets of Swissvale. It is beautiful, impressive, and a little terrifying.
Some of the most important windows in St. Anselm Church, Swissvale, which is scheduled to close this month. These pictures are large enough to show considerable detail; click or tap on the picture to enlarge it. Father Pitt took the time to document the windows in detail because Catholics usually remove the stained glass when they abandon a church.
The interior of St. Anselm in Swissvale, one of the seven churches in St. Joseph the Worker parish scheduled to close this month. We’ll have a separate article for the stained glass. Father Pitt publishes these pictures with gratitude to the parish volunteers who held a simultaneous open house in all the churches of the parish on Sunday, February 22. Old Pa Pitt managed to get to five of the churches during the two-hour window.