herr2ck: St. Johannes Kirche

March 2025.

St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church (St. John’s for brevity) is a massive Richardsonian Romanesque church that rises high above its neighbors. I think it is my favorite work of religious architecture in Springfield, mainly due to its scale and my affinity for the style.

St. John’s is located at 27 North Wittenberg Avenue, northwest of downtown Springfield, Ohio. It is bordered by Columbia Street and the Springfield Regional Medical Center to the north, parking lots to the south and west, and Wittenberg Avenue to the east.

History

The original St. John’s during its use by the Salvation Army. (Springfield News-Sun)

Springfield started with two groups of Lutherans in the city--one was the First Lutheran congregation established in 1841, and the other was composed of German immigrants. The Evangelical Lutheran congregation was organized in 1845 with 75 members, and its first church was built in 1850. This simple Romanesque Revival design (possibly an alteration to appear this way) featured a long nave and tall, thin windows. It was enlarged in 1870 and renovated in 1888 before being sold to the Salvation Army in 1897. They occupied this building until the 1950s, and it has likely been demolished since.

A historic photo of the church c. 1920s. Note the location--it is surrounded by houses and the Robertson Factory behind. (St. John’s website)

By 1880, St. Johns’ membership had grown to about 400 people, and this spurred the desire for a new building as the denomination continued to grow. The existing church building was designed by Springfield architect Charles Cregar (and completed by his brother Edward after his death in 1896) in the Richardsonian Romanesque style. Its cornerstone was laid in November 1895, and the church was consecrated on April 26, 1897. St. Johns’ location and immigrant worshipers indicate that this was likely a more working-class congregation. Its services were held in German, which is corroborated by the engraved stones written in that language. However, by 1908, additional English services began.

Rendering of the Educational Building. (St. John’s website)

The church expanded its footprint in the 1950s (this is pretty typical of historic churches) with an south annex on Wittenberg Avenue, which opened in 1955. It seems to include a gymnasium and office/classroom space. The Educational Building, pictured above, likewise opened in 1964. It included many more rooms for Sunday school and facilities for the church’s use. I think certain areas were made into crappy PoMo pastiche later, but this seems to be alterations of existing entrances rather than new construction.

St. John’s still stands intact today, but its surrounding area has changed significantly. It was originally bordered by houses and nearby factories. The church towered over the houses, but it was still dwarfed by the two massive factories (Robinson and Crowell). The houses were at least partially demolished by the 1950s, as the construction of the two additions would not have been possible without their absence. The factories were razed within the past 10-15 years, leaving St. John’s on its own island, surrounded by brownfields and massive parking lots. Add in Columbia Street’s conversion to I-70 BUS/US-40, and the formerly residential church faces a much different typology today. It was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2006.

Photos

It was challenging to get photos of certain parts of the church due to how busy Columbia Street was. I had to jaywalk to the median to see the north facade. I started looking southwest from the corner of Columbia Street and Wittenberg Avenue:

That massive tower is really something. It serves as the main entrance and pierces the Greek cross plan of the church.

The east facade was hard to capture, due to the trees across the street. I like the way this is framed better, but more is obscured than my other photo I took.

The church has a tripartite facade here--the two towers are taller than the central nave, but they are thinner and recessed behind the wide projection.

The south tower is shorter and its peaked roof only rises slightly above the nave’s:

The secondary entrance to the church features a vaulted portal and original wooden doors. Above are two floors of stained-glass windows. Note how the masonry emphasizes the corners of this tower, seen in the dark ashlar buttresses on the corners of the first floor and the rounded edges of the top level.

Detail of the portal and doors:

A closer look at their texture and the engaged columns that support the archivolts:

The northern tower rises higher and has extended openings for the bells:

The fenestration is similar to the south tower, so I’ll elaborate on the materiality. This contrast between a buff or lighter material (brick here) and a darker one used for trim, voussoirs, and string courses is very typical of the Richardsonian Romanesque style. H. H. Richardson generally used stone for both materials in his buildings, largely because of their massive size and budgets, but Cregar’s use of buff brick here was undoubtedly cost-related. Nonetheless, he still uses a soldier course of limestone on the base.

Detail of the tower’s top and its brickwork:

Admittedly, the usage of brick enables certain ornamental features to be employed. These little corbels are subtle, yet they certainly add texture to the areas they adorn. Also, the rounded corners used to lead to smaller conical roofs above, but those have since been removed.

This circular rose window is really cool:

It’s a little overexposed from the sun, but this was the best I could do. I have a better view from the south facade coming up in a bit, too. Gothic churches are well-known for their rose windows with elaborate tracery, but Romanesque architecture typified the design as it is generally manifested. They usually have rounded mullions instead of Gothic pointed ones.

Detail of the carved central panel and row of vaulted windows:

I never took German, but at least these are all cognates…“Evangelical Lutheran St. John’s Church.”

I don’t understand these words on the cornerstone, but I know what these dates mean:

The congregation was established in 1845, and this building’s construction began in 1895. I think “errichtet” means “erected.”

The north facade is similar to the east, but it has a few key differences.

The nave is identical or at least very similar in width, but the gable does not reach to the towers, and the eaves of the roof behind continue sloping downwards. It is also taller than the east side. The towers are almost shoved to the side by the two smaller bays, which serve as a foil to the projecting nave with similar but smaller windows. I think it was while I was taking this picture that some dude in a 1980s Cadillac honked as he drove by, which scared the crap out of me. That had never happened to me before.

Another angle of the north facade:

Okay, I want you to take a look at these two entrances to the building with me, and understand what I see as someone who particularly enjoys historic architecture and dislikes pastiche/crappy Modernism:

Let’s start with the original building. This tower emphasizes its nature as an entrance by the arched portal and projection from the wall surface behind it. The thick masonry construction makes it appear stalwart and bold. (I understand that this is usually not the case and revival buildings incorporate modern materials, but appearances matter.) The ornament, contrasting materials, and three-dimensionality add rich depth to this tower.

The Modernist entrance to its right actively fails many of these same metrics. The tall double-height window does emphasize the doors, but it is recessed behind the other wall. The simple curtain wall and steel doors/mullions appear cheap and aged. The brick lintel and arch are almost an afterthought and somehow undermine both the original church and the otherwise orthogonal addition. I don’t like how the awning is crudely tacked onto the adjacent original tower, either.

I will concede that none of these are the main entrances to their respective sections, and comparing an excellent work of Richardsonian Romanesque architecture to a poor Modernist one is hardly groundbreaking. I will also concede that someone who likes Modernist architecture can go down the opposite route of “the original church is a caricature of a centuries-old style,” while “the addition is aesthetically pure and functional, removing unnecessary gingerbread.” My point is that there is a way to make additions to existing buildings successful, but it requires great finesse, and nine times out of ten addition projects are usually an afterthought at best and actively detract from the original building at worst. This addition is the latter case.

The south facade received the most sunlight the day I visited, and it is just gorgeous in the light:

The nave:

Note the little Palladian window/vent on the top near the gable, and the three recessed brick panels underneath.

Now THIS is a good view of that rose window:

I like these little double-arched windows too.

Visible on the right is one of the only carved ornamental features of the church--the base of the rounded edges of the tower. The most fanciful Richardsonian Romanesque buildings have this kind of thing everywhere, but Cregar was very restrained in his usage. He achieves the effect of the style simply through materiality, massing, and fenestration. Here’s a closer look at one: