Do not go gentle - Lewerentz

Making my way on buses and unfamiliar roads I finally made it to the entrance to the Ostra Kyrkogarden designed by Lewerentz in Malmo. I must’ve looked out of place as I was traveling through suburbs of Sweden carrying enough stuff on my back to survive weeks in the wilderness. I walked up a set of stone steps on a berm and entered a small outdoor amphitheater bowl. It framed a view of the heavens and sky. I absorbed that moment and proceeded along a ridge. I recognized this was a deliberate, choreographed a sequence in architecture. A journey that reveals itself with winding paths and unexpected prospects. At the end of the path, I came upon strange sight, a twin set of identical chapels next to each other.  The best architects are able to convey their ideas through time and space. In the process of creation, they become embedded in the building. 

There was a funeral service in one chapel, the other was locked. I tracked down a maintenance man who was kind enough to let me into the locked church. I set my backpack down and started to draw. I thought it would be weird if a person attending a funeral service next door came to my chapel by mistake, so I closed the door, only realizing soon after the door clicked it couldn’t be opened from the inside to exit. I had traveled from so far away to visit the church that I temporarily held this danger at bay in my mind, and continued roaming. Lewerentz leaves his pipes and wiring exposed. The masonry is heavy but tautly detailed in the slight angles in the walls. Plywood light fixtures are very elegant and humble. The muffled music and sermon words came in from the ceremony next door. In the middle of the church space, there is a deep dark rectangular pit where I assumed open coffins would rise up and be celebrated. I’m not religious, but I appreciate visiting architecture that is the product of spiritual feelings. These are projects are not tied so much to function but to the contemplation of the the meaning of life. In these projects the landscapes have meaning.  Light and form and ritual convey some  sort of spiritual messages. Suddenly, I started to worry... the walls became claustrophobic. It was a hot July Friday, I didn’t know when the church would be next opened. It would be tragic if my life and architecture career ended. I imagined myself arising from the pit. Newspaper headlines would read ‘dumb American architect dies visiting cemetery chapel.’  I banged on the front door to no avail. I banged my opened hand on a door between the chapels. The maintenance man came over, not speaking English but chuckling at the scene. It was very embarrassing. I imagined what it would be like attending a funeral next door and hearing mysterious banging and thinking ‘the dead do not go gentle’.

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