Receive Weekly Email and Text Message Updates:
Sign up for latest info on concerts, dining, promotions and more!
Go!

Related Stories ...

Most Popular

National Features >

  • Village Voice

    The Great Walls of Chinatown

    With the exception of the electric rice cookers, this Bowery tenement could have come straight from the Nineteenth Century.

    By Elizabeth Dwoskin

  • Houston Press

    Getting Off

    DUI attorney Tyler Flood wins 80 percent of his trials--even if his clients were 100 percent drunk.

    By Mike Giglio

  • Miami New Times

    Park or Die Tryin'

    From the homeless parking mafia to the meter fairy, finding a spot in Miami has taken a turn toward the surreal.

    By Gus Garcia-Roberts

  • City Pages

    The Baddest Men on the Planet

    Straight from the Sam's Club tire shop, Brett Rogers prepares to meet Fedor Emelianenko in mortal combat.

    By Bradley Campbell

The Slutty Eye: Blunt Faith

By David Stoesz

Published on June 30, 2009 at 8:32pm

Seattle is rich in funny-looking churches. The façade of the Holy Protection of the Theotokos Orthodox Church (564 N.E. Ravenna Blvd.) is a riot of wooden slats in beige and turquoise. St. Paul's Episcopal (15 Roy St.) has a zigzagging roof pitched at such an extreme angle it could pass as a novelty building at an amusement park. But the greatest funny-looking church of them all is Seattle First Presbyterian, a 1970 fortress rising above I-5 traffic on the western slope of First Hill. "Brutalism, that's really what they call it," laughs First Presbyterian Executive Director Tim Newton of the school of severe Modernism that resulted in countless concrete boxes in the '60s and '70s, especially on university campuses. It could be the least-loved of all architectural styles, but there's something stirring and grand—almost Egyptian—about the simple shapes and rough textures of the sanctuary and church tower. The appeal is largely lost on the congregation that has to actually live with these structures. "The design flies in the face of our mission to be engaged with the city," says Newton. "People can't even tell where the door is!" Not for long, though. The congregation and church higher-ups have approved a plan to eventually (no date has been named) level the concrete and replace it with more practical church buildings that will be integrated with—you guessed it—a mixed-use high-rise.