Hélène Binet At St Anne’s, Limehouse
An exhibition opening today St Anne’s, Limehouse, and running until 14th March offers an opportunity to view Hélène Binet‘s magisterial photographs of Hawksmoor churches, shown previously at the Venice Biennale.
This is a rare chance to visit one of Hawksmoor’s most mysterious churches. Today and until to Saturday 21st September it is open from 10am-4pm, excluding Sunday, and open on Friday 20th until 8pm. Thereafter, the exhibition is open Fridays and Saturdays 10am-4pm.
Christ Church, Spitalfields (Courtesy of Ammann Gallery)
St George’s, Bloomsbury (Courtesy of the artist)
St Anne’s, Limehouse (Courtesy of Ammann Gallery)
St George-in-the-East, Wapping (Courtesy of the artist)
St Anne’s, Limehouse (Courtesy of the artist)
St George’s, Bloomsbury (Courtesy of Large Glass Gallery)
St Alfege, Greenwich (Courtesy of the artist)
St Mary Woolnoth, Bank (Courtesy of the artist)
Photographs copyright © Hélène Binet
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I struggle to come up with appropriate descriptors for Hawksmoor’s churches. The closest I can come is ‘ominously monumental’. It’s related to the feeling one gets from the tombs in the Valley of the Kings.
Your photographs of St Anne’s, Limehouse reveal an astonishing contradiction. How can something so ponderous be so vertiginously vertical?!
Apologies for the long paragraph but I think the text bears quoting in full. From ‘Nairn’s London’ – entry on St. George’s Bloomsbury
“Start in Bloomsbury way and follow signs to the left-hand side of the portico to St. George’s Hall. The gap between church and neighbouring buildings narrows to a few feet, so that you are thrust against the prodigious keystones, actually touch the wonderful time-worn scales on the Portland Stone. Then the way dives down: a Hawkesmorean turn even though it is provided by accident. It turns a corner by going down and then up again. Seven steps down, a ninety-degree bend, six steps up. It sounds simple but in fact has the drama of a full symphonic movement, charged up by the stupendous classical detail that bores a hole in your right flank. Once upstairs again, you have a new character – quiet, not busy; a new street (Little Russell Street) and, bless me, when you turn round there’s a new building – the rear elevation of St. George’s, completely different from the rest: the best part of the church. One huge pediment over five bays, thickly columned, the perspective artificially enhanced by that old wizard so that the ground floor is hugely overscale whilst the top cornice is delicate. Back again, if you wish, and the whole thing unwinds in a completely different sequence.”