The Basilica of St. Lawrence
When the Vanderbilts chose Asheville as the site for their beloved Biltmore, the city rejoiced. The vast estate served as a catalyst for new jobs, businesses and communities. And for the city’s Catholic community, it brought a new church and one of the city’s enduring architectural treasures.
Among the many craftsmen who came to work on Biltmore was Spanish architect Rafael Guastavino (1842 - 1908), who brought with him not only a devotion to his native country’s predominant religion but a centuries-old Moorish construction technique involving tile and masonry, from which would arise Asheville’s Basilica of St. Lawrence. Its twin steeples have dominated Haywood Road since 1909, even subjugating the upstart Civic Center next door with its Spanish Renaissance solidity. In the years following its dedication, the church grew so beloved by its parishioners that the Diocese of Charlotte persuaded Pope John Paul II to bestow the rank of Basilica in 1993, indicating a church of particular historical, architectural or religious significance.
St. Lawrence’s signature feature is the vast masonry and tile dome soaring over the main aisle, with a clear span of 58 by 82 feet, said to be one of the largest unsupported elliptical domes in North America. Not as obvious, but just as significant, is that the entire church stands without the aid of nails, wood, steel or iron. Guastavino’s tile and masonry system allowed him to construct the church without even a single supporting beam, creating a masterpiece out of ceramic and cement.
Guastavino began his career as an industrial architect in his native Catalonia before emigrating from Barcelona to the U.S. in 1881. He came to Asheville in the mid-1890s to work at Biltmore. Attracted by the Blue Ridge Mountains, he eventually bought a house in Black Mountain (now on the National Register of Historic Places, as is the basilica) and became an influential figure among the Asheville area’s Catholics, who needed a replacement for the old wooden St. Lawrence on what was then a forested hill overlooking downtown. Guastavino joined forces with fellow architect Richard Sharp Smith to design the church and oversee its construction, which began in 1905.
Guastavino and Smith retained the traditional basilica form for the new St. Lawrence. The pattern of a central aisle separated from two side aisles by columns and ending in a semicircular apse had been adopted by the early Church from ancient Roman structures, where it was used in imperial courts and royal meeting halls. (The word "basilica" comes from a Greek noun indicating royalty).
Guastavino’s great contribution to his partnership with Smith was his technique of building up alternating layers of thin tiles and masonry, a system that had been used for hundreds of years in Catalonia to form strong, durable and fireproof surfaces that could be curved from the horizontal to form weight bearing vaults. The same Catalan vaulting that supports the dome of St. Lawrence also appears in many of Guastavino’s projects during his career, including New York’s Grand Central terminal, Grant’s Tomb and the Great Hall at Ellis Island.
While Guastavino’s spectacular dome is what most draws the visitor’s attention, a more careful inspection of the church brings many other rewards. The ten lovely stained glass lunettes surrounding the bottom perimeter of the dome are German in origin, and depict the life of Christ, from the Annunciation on the far right (as one faces the organ loft at the south end of the main aisle) to the Resurrection on the far left. The two larger windows below the lunettes portray the Transfiguration on the right and Christ healing the sick on the left.
Guastavino died just before the new St. Lawrence was formally sanctified and opened to worship, but he left instructions that he wished to be buried inside his creation. His crypt lies at the rear of a chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary to the left of the apse, and features a door encrusted with lustre-glazed tiles, another process introduced by Guastavino and developed at his ceramics works in Massachusetts. Opposite the Chapel of Our Lady, to the right of the main altar, is a second chapel honoring the sacred history of the Eucharist. The chapel’s windows are from the original wooden St. Lawrence, while the mosaic pattern inserted in the chapel’s altar was formed from broken bits of Guastavino’s tile collected by the church’s two officiating priests during the new church’s construction.
While Guastavino built St. Lawrence to stand for centuries, the fate of its surroundings is less certain. Asheville’s city council is considering the future of vacant land it owns across from the Civic Center, proposing to invite plans from developers. The news has sparked a lively opposition, which wants the city to create a new park instead, incorporating a parcel owned by St. Lawrence opposite the church and now used as a parking area.
But on a recent sunny afternoon, while the debate continued outside its sturdy brick walls, the church’s center aisle was dappled with pools of red and blue light refracting through the stained glass windows. The hushed atmosphere radiated a warmth and comfort entirely suitable to Guastavino’s Catalan heritage, sheltering his final resting place with the peace and beauty he created.
