Concrete Soul, Wooden Heart: Holy Cross Church
Let’s get one thing straight: churches aren’t just for the devout anymore—they’re for the bold, the curious, and those with a taste for architectural statements. Case in point: Holy Cross Church. There is an unexpected softness hidden under the hard concrete shell of Brutalism, redefining aesthetics in every layer. Is everything as it seems? We doubt that. This unruly monolith is more than just another minimalist building; it has a heart and warms from the inside out with its subtle wooden interiors full of life.
First impressions? Intimidating, like something out of a Shirley Jackson novel. Don’t get fooled by the cold exterior though, the Holy Cross Church has a heart of gold—well wood to be exact. These intricately crafted, honey-toned panels that make you rethink every assumption you had about Brutalism. Giving room for warm tones to enter around the coldness and blueness that is the signature of the aesthetic. The contrast is striking, almost disorienting, and exactly what makes this church such a bold statement. It’s the architectural equivalent of finding a soft cashmere sweater in a cold snowy day.
The mastermind behind this juxtaposition is architect Walter Förderer. Carefully conducting this symphony of contradiction, he seduces the visitor with his unique understaning of interplay between textures and materials. Warm meets the cold, hard meets the soft and ultimately dualities give way to cohesion… His work is raw and uncompromising, but not without nuance. In a world full of architectural half-measures, Förderer’s vision was refreshingly pure.
At Holy Cross, it’s not just about mass and form. There’s a spirituality here, a sense that this building is engaged in something bigger than itself. You don’t just walk into this church; you experience it. If the exterior feels like a fortress, the interior is a revelation. It’s here where Förderer pulls off his most audacious move—introducing wood as a major design element.The wood doesn’t detract from the concrete; it amplifies it, creating a dialogue between the harsh and the delicate, the raw and the refined.
Brutalism is often sterotyped as cold or sterile, but Holy Cross proves otherwise—much like Tadao Ando’s Church of Light in Japan. But where Ando plays with light to create a divine, ethereal atmosphere, Förderer goes in the opposite direction. He doesn’t invite light to soften his Brutalist structure; instead, he introduces warmth through material, making the space feel grounded, almost earthy.
No need to say that, Brutalism is not everyone’s cup of tea—and It doesn’t care if you “like” it. That’s what makes Holy Cross Church special, its refined, thought-provoking and full of twitst. It’s about creating spaces that challenge you, that demand your respect, and that stay with you long after you’ve left.
