The second hour is fast approaching, and 8-year-old Trevor Van Vleck has been working on a Darth Vader replica for nearly the whole time. “It’s my favorite gargoyle,” says Trevor, who has been carefully shaping the small figure out of molding clay. “He’s really cool.”
It’s been a hot summer for the real Darth Vader gargoyle, perched on the northwest tower of the Washington National Cathedral. But even though he’s been hard to see, Darth remains one of the popular models in the cathedral’s Gargoyle Den.
A typical Saturday morning finds children, and sometimes their parents, spending hours chipping stone, making bookmarks, and of course, creating gargoyles, those fantastical creatures that leer down from the cathedral’s upper reaches, seemingly waiting for a chance to pounce.
“I thought we would be here for half an hour,” says Trevor’s aunt, Cathy Lowden, visiting from Reno, Nev., “but it looks like we’ll be here all morning.”
In a town better known for smooth expanses of marble and brick, gargoyles would surely seem to be a thing of another time and place. But Washington is filled with fantastical creatures, and they aren’t just at the cathedral (or in Congress). Just look up and you’ll find a needed bit of whimsy, and sometimes a mystery or two, peeking from the city’s marble mask.
The cathedral, of course, is a great place to start, with 112 gargoyles. You can see them on your own, through a self-guided tour that can be downloaded from the cathedral’s Web site, www.cathedral.org, or on one of the special-guided or behind-the-scenes tours.
What’s a gargoyle? It’s a fanciful carved creature, often with exaggerated features designed to deflect water away from a building’s masonry, usually through a pipe fitted into the mouth.
“They are part of the guttering system,” explains Winifred Hart, a cathedral docent who regularly leads a behind-the-scenes tour of spaces that are normally off-limits. “Water goes out the pipe, and the gargoyle spits. Unless the rain is heavy, usually they just drool.”
Most often associated with Gothic architecture, gargoyles or some form of decorative waterspout can also be seen in Romanesque, art nouveau and art deco buildings. The ancient Romans used gargoyles; remnants have been found in Pompeii. Gargoyles were used in ancient Egypt and Greece.
You can see them, in parrot form, jutting out from the facade of the apartment building at 2101 Connecticut Ave. NW, where 5-foot “guardians” also loom from the roof, each one ready to hurl a large ball at unsuspecting passers-by.
Darlene Trew Crist, author of “American Gargoyles: Spirits in Stone,” writes that the word “gargoyle” can be used as the generic term for many kinds of decorative carved figures, not just those that spew water. But there is a distinction between those figures that spit and those that just leer.
Strictly speaking, Darth Vader isn’t a gargoyle at all. He’s a grotesque, a fantastical carved figure that lacks the necessary metal pipe that would push him into the gargoyle class. In fact, the cathedral actually has many more grotesques than gargoyles — 1,130 to 112. And many of those creatures you’ll see around town are actually grotesques rather than gargoyles, more decorative than functional. In other words, all gargoyles are grotesques, but not all grotesques are gargoyles.
Why bother with more than just a waterspout? Gargoyles may also have served to link the old pagan religions to emerging Christianity or to delineate the difference between the secular world outside the cathedral with the spiritual world within, writes Wendy True Gasch, author of the cathedral’s “Guide to Gargoyles and Other Grotesques.” Other explanations point to the need to boost church attendance or to ward off the devil.
Whatever the case, gargoyles break up the verticality of a building, even though some are seemingly best glimpsed from above.
The cathedral gargoyles are hardly the traditional figures you’ll see elsewhere in European churches. Along with Darth Vader, you can find a hippie, a poodle and even a corrupt politician. In fact, stone carvers and designers were enjoined not to study the old forms, writes Ms. Crist, the better to ensure that the designs would be fresh, individual and current with the times.
So the hippie gargoyle on the north nave, designed and carved in the 1970s by Constantine Seferlis, features a figure with a torn sweater, placard and bag of marijuana.
“All of these things tell stories,” Mrs. Hart says. “And there are so many personal things you would never think would be here. Gargoyles can be highly individual.”
One angel grotesque, for example, honors Bishop John Walker, who died unexpectedly in 1989 while taking a piano lesson. The figure is depicted with an upright piano. Henry Thomas, the short-order cook of the cathedral construction yard, is shown with coffee cup, doughnut, hot dog and piece of pie. A few of the carvers even memorialized a few ex-girlfriends, albeit in a not very complimentary fashion.
A number of the figures at the cathedral reflect the ethnic origins of the carvers, many recent immigrants to the United States. As you might expect, stone carvers and others in the building trades were much in demand in the District in the early 20th century, not only for the cathedral but for government and private construction as well.
Over the years, designers and carvers gave a nod to the District’s political realities, with depictions of the Republican elephant and Democratic donkey carved in 1968 for the south nave. There’s a pacifist with a gas mask and a militant with missiles. And that crooked politician, complete with cigar and pinky ring, crouches on the southwest tower with weighted scales of justice and a ready wad of cash.
Among the more famous of the carvers was Roger Morigi, who came to America in 1928 and worked at the cathedral from 1956-1977, earning the title of “master carver.” Mr. Morigi’s gargoyle, designed and carved by John Guarente, reflects his reportedly somewhat irascible personality, depicting a half-man, half-devil in the process of “blowing his top.” One pocket holds the tools of his trade and the other a pistol, dagger and flask. (Mr. Morigi was not informed of the look of his gargoyle until it was completed and was initially quite annoyed, Ms. Gasch writes.)
Some gargoyles, like Fat Fingers and Birdwatcher, were designed and realized by the carver. Others were designed by an artist and reproduced by a carver. Many were designed and carved at the behest of a donor and reflect a particular concern, like Dentist on the northwest tower. And a few were put in place as a result of a gargoyle-designing contest, one held in 1959 and another, sponsored by National Geographic, in 1985 for 8- to 13-year-olds. Darth Vader is a result of the latter, which selected four designs from more than 1,400 entries.
“Stone carvers had different styles,” says head mason Joe Alonso, who came to the cathedral 21 years ago, fresh out of high school. “If you’re around here long enough, you get to know them all.”
With two decades at the cathedral under his belt, Mr. Alonso was around when the last cathedral gargoyle, Caveman, was carved in 1987. And although he is not a carver himself, he remembers that the carvers and the masons used to hang out together. While the carvers themselves have moved on, remnants of their sojourn at the cathedral remain in the form of the champagne bottles they used for their final New Years’ Eve toast.
Many believe that the carvers also spread their good cheer around the neighborhood.
“There are gargoyles on the building at the northwest corner of Wisconsin and Woodley that look just like some of the ones here,” Mr. Alonso says.
The same is said for Alban Towers, the venerable luxury apartment building at the corner of Wisconsin and Massachusetts avenues that reopened in 2001 after a $63 million renovation.
When it opened in 1929, Alban Towers was known for Gothic Revival architecture and Tudor interior. Over the years, it housed some notables like Thomas Dewey and Frank Sinatra as well as hundreds of Georgetown University students when it functioned as student housing during the 1970s and early 1980s.
James M. Goode, author of “Best Addresses: A Century of Washington’s Distinguished Apartment Houses,” writes that many buildings boasted English names to attract the “right sort” of clientele. Alban Towers was named for Mount St. Alban, where the National Cathedral was under construction, which took its name from an early 19th century house built by local landowner Joseph Nourse, who had named it for the English site of St. Albans Cathedral.
Inside the building, smiley faces vaguely reminiscent of the ubiquitous 1970s smiley dot the hallways, along with the signs of the zodiac. Outside, the porte-cochere features six carved figures (they are not actually gargoyles, but corbels) that seem to hearken to the Middle Ages. It’s not quite clear who they actually are, although they are all quite different from one another.
There’s one figure on the front that is even more confounding. Although many people believe it is aviator Charles Lindbergh, the project manager for the renovation, James Kane, is not so sure.
“It doesn’t look anything like him,” says Mr. Kane, noting the figure’s receding chin. “I think it actually looks more like a ’20s-era motorcyclist.”
Similarly clouded identity issues swirl around two of the carved figures at the Henley Park Hotel, which actually has more gargoyles than the cathedral. Traditionally thought to be representations of the building’s architect and his wife, the figures bear an eerie resemblance to those quasi-Medieval figures on the Alban Towers porte-cochere.
The hotel began life as the Tudor Hall apartments in 1918, where for many years it was an apartment building for gentlemen only. Today, the classic English atmosphere is represented by the renovated public spaces, complete with the original Mercer tile floor in the main lobby. The interior courtyard has been enclosed to house the Coeur de Lion restaurant and features four gargoyles from the old Commodore Hotel in New York City as well as a series of low-relief carvings.
The largest gargoyles, though, perch way up high. Like many grotesques on buildings other than the cathedral, they are better viewed from a distance; get too close and you’ll see only the effects of weather and age. Remember the gargoyles of old: You weren’t supposed to look them in the eye. Instead, just look up.
Get ready to be amazed, amused
If you’re looking to peer up and see some gargoyles and other carved creatures, here are a few places to get you started:
• The National Cathedral — click on www.cathedral.org or call 202/537-7200 for general information.
• The Gargoyle’s Den workshop is open to children ages 6 to 12 from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Saturday in the crypt classroom. Cost: $5 per group of up to four and $1 each extra person.
• Guided Gargoyle Tours will be held at 2 p.m. Sept. 24 and Oct. 22. (Check before going to make sure time hasn’t changed.) Meet at the west end docent station, nave level. No reservations are required, but bring your binoculars and cameras. Cost: $5 per person; recommended for children ages 10 and older. E-mail tours@cathedral.org
• Self-guided tours are available at the cathedral’s docent desk and from the Web site (www.cathedral.org/cathedral/visit/self.shtml)
• Behind-the-scenes tours are available from 10:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. Monday through Friday, through Feb. 28.
These tours offer a look at the hidden corners of the cathedral. See the “other side” of the vaulting, glimpse bosses, gargoyles and stained-glass windows up close and find new views of the city from on high. Individuals only (no groups). Meet at the west end docents’ station. Must be at least 11 years old, have sensible shoes (lots of stairs), and be comfortable in close quarters and with heights.
Fee is $10. No reservations.
For more information, e-mail the cathedral at tours@cathedral.org
• The cathedral’s “Guide to Gargoyles and Other Grotesques,” by Wendy True Gasch (Washington National Cathedral, 2003), is available from the gift shop.
• A number of buildings with gargoyles and other carved figures are within a short walk of the cathedral along Wisconsin Avenue.
• Alban Towers is located at 3700 Massachusetts Ave. NW.
Other buildings around the city also contain some notable creatures. They include:
• The Henley Park Hotel (formerly Tudor Hall Apartments), 926 Massachusetts Ave. NW. 202/638-5200. www.henleypark.com
• The Cairo, 1615 Q St. NW. (1894) Elephant heads on the first floor, dragon/dwarf crosses on the fourth.
• Emporis Building, 2101 Connecticut Ave. NW. (1927) “The finest apartment house ever to appear in Washington between the two world wars,” writes James M. Goode in his book “Best Addresses: A Century of Washington’s Distinguished Apartment Houses.”
• Kennedy-Warren apartments, 3133 Connecticut Ave. NW. (1931) Recently restored stone griffins and other carvings.
• Sedgwick Gardens, 3726 Connecticut Ave. NW. (1931) Features high-relief female figures above the entrance.
• The old Masonic Temple, 9th and F streets Northwest. See www.goethe.de/ ins/us/was/pro/vtour/dc1/B2/22/en_index.htm
• The Miller House, 2201 Massachusetts Ave. NW. Reportedly, the carved figure on the roof is the one-time family cat, waiting for Capt. Miller to return from the sea.
• The Chastleton, 16th and R streets Northwest. (1919) According to Mr. Goode, the Chastleton was the “largest and most ornate Gothic Revival apartment house ever built in the nation’s capital.” Wallis Simpson, who became the Duchess of Windsor, and Douglas MacArthur stayed there during the building’s heyday. Stone gargoyles can be seen on the entrances facing 16th Street.
• You can learn more about American gargoyles in “American Gargoyles: Spirits in Stone,” by Darlene Trew Crist, Clarkson/Potter Publishers, 2001.
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