USCJ Review - Spring 2005
Synagogue Architecture: Change and Continuity
The synagogue offers the architect a unique opportunity for creative expression. In 1963 the Jewish Museum curated an exhibition entitled "Recent American Synagogue Architecture," featuring 17 synagogues designed in the previous decade by some of the prominent architects of the day. While each architect realized the unlimited opportunity afforded him (synagogue design has few restrictions), these designs reflect in their variety an extraordinary discipline in their planning, structure, and expression. Simple, ordered, searching for an identity and an expression, they rejected historical patterns of the past, celebrating the freedom given by modernism and the renewed optimism and faith expressed by the new congregations.
These new synagogues created a dilemma for congregations and architects alike. Located mostly in new or developing suburbs, their congregants were spread far and wide. The synagogue for these many new congregations had to achieve a maximum utilization of space while fulfilling the three-fold definition of the synagogue as house of prayer, assembly and study.
The spatial solution that developed to create this efficiency -- sanctuary, social hall, and an expanded capacity for the High Holy Days -- was to locate these two principal spaces in tandem and separate them by a movable, usually folding wall. What is also remarkable about these plans is that the program of spaces was usually simple and consistent, very like their urban counterparts, and included a few classrooms for religious or Sunday school, a minimum office group, and sometimes a chapel.
Unfortunately, the excitement generated by this illustriouis group of architects was almost completely lost in the next decades. The buildings that followed, for the most part, suffered from the lack of an idea and produced an uninspired architecture. They seemed more concerned with "fitting in" to their new neighborhoods than expressing meaning and purpose. Designs fell prey to formulaic responses, a passionless architectural marriage of convenience, combining social hall and sanctuary.
It was a design solution that created more problems than it solved. The seating arrangement of the sanctuary was forced to be an auditorium arranged with the bimah at the front. When the folding wall was opened, the space was combined and seating extended. While it accommodated large numbers, it created a dispirited space. The bimah had to be high enough so that people in the back could see, or at least pretend to see, and the decorum at the back was often diminished.
The lighting and acoustics designed for social spaces are in conflict with a worship environment. For those who worship only on the High Holy Days, the experience is not engaging. In addition, some of these synagogues expanded incrementally with more than one folding wall, creating in this interstitial space dark, unwelcoming spaces that also serve as a pre-function space for celebratory gatherings. These social halls, often surrounded by support areas or corridors, were likely to be dreary interior spaces, causing celebrations to move offsite to other venues such as hotels or clubs, resulting in ceremonies not being in sanctuaries, and congregations losing revenue.
Now, almost a half-century later, where are we? The spirituality of place, the search for community, the very definition of the synagogue itself as a gathering place informs the best of contemporary synagogue architecture. We are a different society now than we were 50 years ago, and people are seeking different ways to express their spirituality.
Architecture speaks. It expresses what we value from the past, what our needs are now, and, at its best moments, looks to the future. Our tradition commands us to remember, and by remembering we can connect the past, the present, and the future in spatially defining and organizing ways. What does the past tell us? From the Temple in Jerusalem we are reminded of the courtyard, that fundamental space in which people gather. Whether open to the sky or interior spaces, courtyards invite us in to meet one another and -- in contrast to lobbies or corridors, which move people through -- they invite us to stay awhile. We need these spaces to enhance our ability to be a community. The courtyard, or community court, as I define it in my work, is a flexible space that can be used creatively for receptions, exhibitions, and a variety of other events.
Buildings express continuity through the choice of materials. Stone, or masonry, for example, evokes a sense of timelessness and offers the texture of memory providing a connection to Jerusalem and its Western Wall. The very act of building one piece upon another is an act of commitment akin to the writing of a Torah scroll, letter by letter.
The spatial needs of today's synagogue are more complex, and the way we design our buildings to address those needs expresses our values. There is a fundamental shift away from the auditorium, or proscenium, type of space. The presentation space is giving way to the participatory space, which is rooted in our tradition. Clergy and congregants want to be connected with one another, encouraging participation. A central bimah, with the congregation wrapped around it, places the focus on interpreting the law, not just on its place, the Ark. It also creates a more congenial space for discussion. There is some resistance, after decades of facing forward, from some who are uncomfortable with the idea of facing one another. The "modified thrust stage," with the bimah pushing out toward the congregation with seats bending around it, can be a more comfortable alternative.
This return to an historical format borrowed from the Greek Council chamber and actually dating back to original synagogue worship has led to another, and somewhat surprising, design opportunity: the return of the balcony. Long viewed as a means to separate, it is now viewed by some as a means to gather and reinforce the sense of community. The balcony affords the opportunity to experience worship in the expanded mode with the same sense of warmth and intimacy experienced in the normal mode. Now sanctuaries can be designed for larger number of people, upwards of 1,200, with incremental growth expressed within the space rather than by extending the space. For example, a central main sitting area can sit the number for a normal Sabbath service, space under the balcony can be a second area of sitting, and the balcony, a third. Successful designs for this idea count 300-400-500 in one configuration, for example (AJC, MN). The resulting space has a greater volume, its height conveying a sense of awe and the opportunity for one's eyes to focus on the infinite. This application has been successful both for large and small congregations.
Other forms of expansion have also been employed, such as expanding laterally or concentrically into a series of pods, classrooms or meeting rooms.
More and more, the synagogue has become a veritable "synaplex," with multiple worship spaces offering different constituencies the opportunity to create and participate in a service that resonates with them. This provides a wonderful opportunity for synagogues to re-think how spaces are designed so they may remain multi-purpose while their character reflects their use beyond assembly and study, to include worship. Thus, each space in the synagogue may now take on the role of the Mikdash-Me'at.
The social hall is also undergoing transformation. Spaces to celebrate the life-cycle are needed in a varietyof sizes and characteristics. For the past 50 years, the social hall has principally been designed as an extension of the sanctuary. Some have no access to natural light, and noise transmission through the folding walls inhibit "setting up" by caterers. What is happening to social spaces is similar to worship; there is the need for a variety of spaces for all the rites of passage of the life-cycle. In addition, the multiple opportunities for lectures, film, dance, music, theater, etc., challenge the ordinary space.
Social halls that are designed independent of the sanctuary have the potential to be more flexible, and --through the creative architectural expression of space, light, and material -- to honor the events taking place within them. When well executed, the social hall has the potential to attract and hold many more celebratory and cultural activities than ever anticipated.
Life-long learning has created demand for a multitude and variety of educational spaces. Infant and early childhood centers, nursery school, "mommy and me" parenting centers, day schools, religious school, high school, and the resurgence of interest in adult education have made our synagogues a hub of activity throughout the day and evening. Regulatory requirements for the youngest; sometimes-shared spaces for day school and religious school; and adult education classrooms that can be combined into conference centers define the need for flexible and adaptive spaces that can accommodate the full range of activities economically. Careful planning and thoughtful design can maximize use and adaptability so that seminar rooms, for example, can double as social spaces, and even triple as alternative worship spaces. We are a people who study, who celebrate the book. Our synagogues should provide spaces whether for 2 or 20, so the dialogue engendered by study can be sustained and fostered.
We are also a people of customs and ceremonies that have and continue to stimulate creativity in arts and crafts. We should integrate not only these symbols and their interpretations into our buildings but also quotations from and references to the text. Properly executed, the spirituality of place can be enhanced.
The synagogue of the last 50 years has transformed from basic suburban buildings to places of amazing activity. The synagogue of the next 50 years has an opportunity, a requirement, to define the spirituality of a congregation's place, represented by its sacred spaces and activities. The opportunity to remember, adapt to current needs, and imagine the future remains a continuous and unfolding story of faith and space. And when one part of this story is completed, remember to leave a piece unfinished, to remind us, as Vince Lombardi, the great football coach, said, "While perfection is unattainable, in chasing it you might catch excellence."
Finegold Alexander + Associates Inc is the architect for many Conservative synagogues. It has won National Design Awards for Temple Emanuel, Newton, Massachusetts; Agudas Achim Synagogue, San Antonio, Texas; and Adath Jeshurun, Synagogue, Minnetonka, Minnesota.
