'Concrete fortress' finally to come down

Harvey Jones, a tourist from Atlanta, was not prepared for what he saw at 16th and I streets, NW, just two blocks north of the White House - Third Church of Christ, Scientist, a classic Brutalism piece of architecture.It is a bare, bold and brash exposed concrete that Jones fails to understand how anyone could have ever thought was attractive architecture. The word Brutalism originates from the translation of "raw concrete" from French.

After a Yuk, Jones declared the Brutalism concrete bunker the ugliest church he's ever seen. It looks more like a utility building than a church, he said.

"I thought it was a utility building until I saw the sign," said Jones, pointing to the sign in the middle of one slab of concrete. "It definitely doesn't invoke images of worship."

Students of Brutalism architecture say that it distinctly evokes strong responses, ranging from harsh criticism to skepticism to careful curiosity. It's too cold and inhuman.

"It really is a grey spot on an otherwise pleasant block," said Joli Sims, who works in one of the nearby buildings. "This is a busy street and I think it's an odd building to pass in the shadow of the White House.

The saga of the ugly church started in 1991, when without the knowledge or consent of church members, a group of zealous DC preservationists filed a petition seeking designation of Third Church of Christ Scientist building as a historic landmark.

The Historic Preservation Review Board granted the petition precisely because of the building's Brutalism style. From that time on, the Third Street congregations was unable to altar or demolish the building.

The DuPont Circle Advisory Neighborhood Commission (ANC) unanimously opposed the building's designation as a Historic Landmark, and requested that the Historic Preservation Review Board deny the claim.

For a year now, the 120-member congregation of Third Church of Christ Scientist has yearned to bulldoze their church because it was uninviting, crumbling and too expensive for the small downtown flock to maintain. The crumbling concrete walls encase an unnecessarily large sanctuary that can hold 400 people. They wanted to replace it with a revenue-generating office building that would also include space for the church. But District architectural conservationists objected because the building was a historic landmark.

On April 7, U.S. District Court Judge James Robertson intervened, siding with the congregation. He granted the church a permit to ready the wrecking balls and bulldozers to bring down the concrete bunker.

"I'm glad the church is finally allowed to make alterations," said Walter Luck, a computer systems engineer at the nearby American Federation of Labor and Congress of Industrial Organizations, commonly known as AFL-CIO. "Personally, if I was going to church, I'd like to see the sun shining through the windows."

Camera-ready tourists frequent this prime location, often exiting the St. Regis hotel across the street. Kaleeb Teklebraham has been a doorman at St. Regis for 22 years and is a fan of the architecture of Third Church.

"I like it," he said. "It reminds me of almost Russian architecture. Hotel guests ask me all the time what is it. In the past, the bells used to ring every hour so some guests thought it was almost an alarm."

But even Teklebraham would like to see some improvement in the maintenance of the buildings' exterior. "In the winter time and when it rains, the moisture leaves stains on the concrete and it's really ugly," he said.

Mary Wadley, a former clerk of the church and 30-year member, is glad the church now has a say in its construction.

"We didn't want a big concrete fortress facing everybody," she said. "We want a church that's welcoming to members and passersby alike. Some people feel a church should be some great monument in and of itself, but I don't really think anyone in this church really wants that. We want a place that meets our needs.