Near the center of Helsinki, Finland, in the Töölö neighborhood, one can find the Temppeliaukio Church, an unusual-looking Lutheran church nestled between granite rocks. Approaching the square from Fredrikinkatu street, the church appears subtly, a flat dome barely rising above its surrounding landscape. An unassuming entrance, flanked by concrete walls, leads visitors through a dark hallway, and into the light-filled sanctuary carved directly into the bedrock. The exposed rock walls earned it the alternative name “The Church of the Rock.” To contrast the heaviness of the materials, skylights surrounding the dome create a play of light and shadows and a feeling of airiness.
The church is the result of an architectural competition won by the architect brothers Timo and Tuomo Suomalainen in 1961. Their original solution was recognized not only for its creativity but also for the respect it showed to the competition’s goal: “to include the organization plan for the whole Temppeliaukio Square, taking into attention that as great part as possible of the rock outcrop of the square to be preserved.” The winning proposal achieves this by embedding the church inside the rock and placing parish facilities on the edges of the hillock. This article explores the story behind the Temppeliaukio Church both narratively and visually, through the lens of Aleksandra Kostadinovska, a professional photographer from Skopje.
Since the construction of the Töölö neighborhood during the 1920s, Temppeliaukio Square was designated to become the setting of the parish church, as its name, translated to Temple Square, suggests. The first architectural competition for the design of the church was organized in 1933. Disappointed by the results, the organizing committee opened a second competition in 1936. Most of the projects received employed a tower in the dominant street axis, toward Fredrikinkatu street. Finally, the project was assigned to professor J. S. Sirén, the second runner-up in the competition. Construction begins, but is soon interrupted by the beginning of the Second World War.
Related Article
Sacred Modernity: An Exploration of the Modernist Movement in Mid-Century Holy ArchitectureA third competition was organized in 1961, leading to the selection of Timo and Tuomo Suomalainen’s design. Construction began in February 1968, and one and a half years later, in September 1969, the church was open for consecration. Due to economic constraints during the post-war period, the suggested plan was scaled back, and the interior space of the church was reduced to about one-quarter of its original footprint. Even so, public opinion was initially critical of the design, with some fearing it would resemble a bunker. Others considered that the money could be better spent for other purposes, such as supporting the famine victims of Biafra. In 1969, Christian students even graffitied the word “Biafra” over the building site in one of the first recorded incidents of public graffiti in Finland.
Despite the controversy, the church is today appreciated as one of Helsinki’s most beloved landmarks. Today it serves a dual purpose: a place of worship for the residents of Töölö and a treasured concert venue due to its impressive acoustic qualities. The feature is achieved due to the rough, exposed rock walls. In the original design, the Suomalainen brothers proposed a smooth concrete finish over the stone, fearing that the exposed rock would be too radical for the jury. However, conductor Paavo Berglund and acoustical engineer Mauri Parjo ensured the designers of the acoustical qualities of a more uneven surface, leading to the decision to leave the stone walls untouched. Drill markings from the quarrying are still visible on the walls.
The other main feature of the building is its roof, a flat 24m diameter dome supported on radial concrete beams. On the inside, the dome is clad in an unoxidized copper thread, measuring 22 kilometers in length. Surrounding the dome, 180 glass planes form a large skylight that brings natural light into the main space of the church. The shape of the glass panes varies to create the transition from the strict geometrical shape of the dome to the free form of the rock walls of fluctuating heights. Above the altar, the skylight increases in size, bringing more light to this space dedicated to the holy rituals.
For the walls, large granite rocks quarried from the same site are stacked on top of the natural stone walls to create the 13 meters tall space. The building emphasizes its natural elements and its connection to the land. During spring, when the snow melts, water seeps from the cracks in the bedrock, and is collected in small channels in the floor. The design of the interior space rises from the theme of coexistence with nature. The materials employed, such as copper and exposed concrete, were chosen to complement the shades of the Pegmatitic (pink) granite stone.
The sanctuary floor is designed to be at the same level of the highest street entering the square, allowing the entrance to lead visitors directly inside without the need for stairs, thus making the main space accessible for all users. A folded public gallery connects the main space to the additional parish facilities located toward the edge of the hillock. An unusual feature of the church is the absence of a bell tower. To compensate, a recording of bells by Finnish composer Taneli Kuusisto is played from speakers on the exterior walls.
The design decisions might seem unusual, but they are well aligned with the unique geological characteristics of Helsinki. The Finnish capital is one of the few cities worldwide with an underground master plan. Almost 10 million square meters of underground spaces underneath the city form an extensive network concealing swimming pools, churches, shops, and even a karting track that doubles as a civil defense shelter. During the late fifties, Europe saw a proliferation of partially concealed structures prompted by the desire to avoid the destruction of a site. Another example of this type of architecture in Helsinki is the Amos Rex Art Museum.
This feature is part of an ArchDaily series titled AD narratives where we share the story behind a selected project, diving into its particularities. Every month, we explore new constructions from around the world, highlighting their story and how they came to be. We also talk to the architect, builders, and community seeking to underline their personal experience. As always, at ArchDaily, we highly appreciate the input of our readers. If you think we should feature a certain project, please submit your suggestions.
Editor's Note: This article was originally published on February 09, 2023.
