Few pupils of masters ever achieve greatness, let alone become masters themselves. Nicholas Hawksmoor did, however, and I am privileged to live in the shadow of his baroque brilliance.
As a student of one of England’s most renowned architects, Sir Christopher Wren, Hawksmoor was more ambitious than other apprentices. His work included Westminster Abbey, Blenheim Palace, Hampton Court Palace, Kensington Palace, St Paul’s Cathedral and All Souls College, Oxford, as well as six churches built in support of the Commission for Building Fifty New Churches, founded in 1711; an initiative designed to supply the rapidly growing city of London with more places of worship. Hawksmoor was a man on a mission, clearly, but what set him apart from the rest was his vision, that and the fact that he was a specialist; a master of towers and steeples.
The towers of Westminster Abbey, one of Hawksmoor’s many masterpieces
Unlike his peers, Hawksmoor never embarked on the Grand Tour and many believe this led to his fascination with classical images of places he could never visit. This included a special, almost romanticised, relationship with the Gothic style in general and the Temple of Solomon, in particular. Nowhere is the latter more evident than in London’s Old Street, whose very name hints at its importance in ancient times. Here, Saint Luke’s church stands as testament to Hawksmoor’s vision, bravery and desire to fuse his eclectic influences into a single audacious statement, for here stands an obelisk on top of a church where a steeple would normally be.
Saint Luke’s, where Hawksmoor substituted an obelisk for a spire
Hawksmoor did not design Saint Luke’s. He merely added the obelisk, for towers were his specialty, and many architects, such as John James – the architect of the body of the church – looked to his bold and uniquely austere vision to add the crowning touch to their design.
Hawksmoor’s austere ode to the heavens, the obelisk at Saint Luke’s Church, London
Not far from Saint Luke’s, and even closer to where I live and work, is Christ Church, Spitialfields, one of Hawksmoor’s six London churches. At Spitalfields, Hawksmoor’s evocative style dominates the skyline and casts its spell on a neighbourhood better known for the resting place of William Blake, the home of John Wesley and the killing fields of Jack the Ripper.
The austere grandeur of Christ Church, Spitalfields – near where I live
Actually, Saint Luke’s was one of two churches where Hawksmoor erected an obelisk atop John James’s design. The other, St John Horsleydown, also in London, was built near the south bank of the River Thames, but was bombed in 1940, during the Blitz, leaving Saint Luke’s as Hawksmoor’s most poignant memorial to his beloved Temple of Solomon.
Engraving of Hawksmoor’s obelisk atop Saint John Horsleydown, London, by John Buckler
Saint Luke’s has experienced many transformations over the years; from church, to lunatic asylum, to home of the London Symphony Orchestra, where the likes of Bruce Springsteen and Elton John have recorded. Today, its interior resembles anything but a church, while the exterior has changed little. In fact, on overcast days in particular, of which there are many in London, its mood can be quite foreboding, something I suspect Hawksmoor had always intended.
A foreboding appearance: the outside of Saint Luke’s has changed little over the years
At the end of the day, what appeals to me most about Hawksmoor’s choice of an obelisk for a steeple is its obvious reference to the Egyptian God, Ra, and the most enduring entity in our heavens, the sun. The symbolism is simple, yet perfect, and makes me wonder why it was not more widely adopted. Regardless, I feel fortunate that Saint Luke’s remains and that I pass by it most days, for it reminds me that vision can overcome convention and that students of masters may also become masters themselves.
Admiring Hawksmoor’s obelisk