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.