Description

Located in the highlands of the Serra da Mantiqueira northeast of São Paulo, the town of Campos do Jordão originated from a settlement of villas and has been a health resort since the twenties with numerous sanatoria for sufferers of pulmonary ailments. Later the town became an exclusive holiday destination, due to its architecture, which visitors once regarded as a piece of “Switzerland in Brazil”.

The town’s expansion, which caused the population to swell to 50,000 inhabitants, was in part due to the decision to build the Palácio Boa Vista there in 1938. Originally built as the residence for the Governor of São Paulo, it has been used as a museum since the early seventies.

St Peter’s Chapel stands on a south-facing slope in the direct vicinity of the Palácio. To give it adequate space, the landscaping of the highest point of the slope, where it meets the forecourt of the Palácio, had to be changed. Three metres of earth were excavated and the level terrain in front of the Palácio secured with a retaining wall. The low volume of the building is inserted into the arrangement of the whole yet still enjoys a prominent position: its lower level is inserted slightly into the wall, its upper level sits atop the edge of the wall. The north face of the chapel points westwards parallel to the south face of the museum, the east face of the chapel points southwards parallel to the west face of the museum.

Made of steel and exposed cast concrete and surrounded by a glazed curtain wall, the building appears from the forecourt like a horizontal band of concrete floating over a horizontal strip of glass, the latter slightly broader measuring 2.25 metres compared to the 2.05 metres of the concrete. To the casual observer, its sparse architecture, which avoids the decorative historicism of its larger neighbour but obligingly incorporates it, inverts the normal relationship of wall and roof. It appears as if the fragile skin is about to buckle under the mass of the roof. The construction responsible for this illusion only becomes apparent after entering one of the two narrow doors on the corners of the building, themselves not immediately discernible in the flush curtain of glass walling. From the elongated vestibule within, one looks not only down into the depths of the space, which slopes away gently both inside and outside, but also across at the massive circular pillar in the centre of the building.

Except for the sacristy, which is tucked away under the forecourt and behind the retaining wall and connects to the south wing of the Palácio via a passageway, and except for a ramp leading to the font, the entire lower level is a flat surface of water. The edges of this dark pool extend right up to the glass skin of the building, marking its perimeter on the ground. The still surface of the water creates dramatic reflections of the world outside. The chapel literally extends an invitation to the lush surrounding landscape of the highlands to the south and the majestic Palácio to the north to display their attractions throughout both storeys of the interior.

Due to the almost immaterially thin glass panes of the façade with its matt metal framing, the upper level of the building appears almost like an extension of the palace forecourt. The aforementioned massive circular pillar is 5.2 metres high with a diameter of 3.3 metres. It supports a gallery to the left, which extends almost 10 metres into the depth of the room, and a concrete cantilevered shell-like balcony that extends out sideways and forwards. The projecting shell and the glass skin avoid all contact, the outline of their figures not matching and their lines not parallel. As a result, the shell acquires a kind of sculptural autonomy. That it also serves a practical function is immediately visible: it carries the congregation, bearing them like a ship that floats over the water. At the same time the “deck” with its perimeter railing resembles a spectator’s stand or a theatre, sloping down towards the altar so that the entire congregation can follow the service more easily.

Although the building has a quadratic plan, it comfortably surrounds half an octagon. The plan attempts to unite the benefits of the longitudinal with the circular. The vestibule and altar space set up an axial arrangement, while the round pillar creates a rotational movement on both the upper and lower level. In a long gyratory clockwise path, the space leads the priest and servers from the sacristy first along the ramp next to the gallery, then up the five steps over the water to the altar and in front of the congregation, which, after the service is over, leave the circle exiting onto the palace forecourt.

The longitudinal and cross sections reveal the character of the chapel most clearly. They show how the architect – who evidently has more than a passing familiarity with the oeuvre of Le Corbusier and Oscar Niemeyer – masterfully and courageously reveals the structural potential of concrete. They also demonstrate his appreciation of transparency and horizon. Driven by a desire for the unity of building and landscape and for a thoroughly open relationship between outside and inside, the architect has reduced the structural components to a single pillar, a cantilevered shell and a roof. According to the architect, Brazilian architecture lacks all “notion of shelter”. He adds, “one enters through a door and leaves through a door.” Nothing more. His notion of shelter was already a central theme of his design for the Brazilian Pavilion for the 1970 Expo in Osaka, which is in principle just a large sheltering roof.

When a church refers to its patron, then mostly through painted wall or glass murals that commemorate the saint to which the church is dedicated. St Peter’s Chapel in Campos do Jordão is no exception, with a picture (by Glauco Pinto de Moraes) depicting Simon Peter. A two-part depiction of the Apostle, as the man with the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven on the one hand and a man facing death through crucifixion on the other, is placed where one would not immediately expect to find it: on the ten metre long underside of the gallery. When artificially lit, both figures are reflected in glowing yellow and red in the water below. Using this device, the architect integrates the need for iconography without compromising the architectural form of the building. In fact, precisely because the two pictures do not otherwise impact on the spatial form of the church, the building itself can be seen as having iconographic connotations. In the context of the 20th-century experience whereby kitsch appears through figurative representation and disappears through abstraction, the architecture of this building offers a both Catholic and avant-garde means of interpretation. One can see the shell as the fisherman’s boat, and the pillar as the rock. For those who subscribe to this interpretation, both commemorate the life of St Peter. As is written in the Gospel according to Luke, Jesus calls Peter to be his follower with the words: “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” And in the Gospel according to Matthew: “Thou art Peter. And upon this rock I will build my church.”

Architektur Aktuell, no. 5/2006, p. 14 | AV Monografías, no. 95/2002, pp. 78- | Casabella, no. 693/2001, pp. 20- | Deutsche Bauzeitung, no. 2/1995, p. 86 | AMC Le Moniteur Architecture, no. 161/2006, p. 28 | Montaner, Josep Maria, Villac, Maria Isabel: Mendes da Rocha, Barcelona 1996, pp. 66- | Projeto, no. 128/1989, pp. 52- | Solot, Denise Chini: Paulo Mendes da Rocha. Estrutura. O êxito da forma, Rio de Janeiro 2004, pp. 88- | Spiro, Annette: Paulo Mendes da Rocha. Bauten und Projekte, Sulgen and Zurich 2002, pp. 182-, p. 263

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Originally published in: Rudolf Stegers, Sacred Buildings: A Design Manual, Birkhäuser, 2008.