Few modern architects have been faced with the challenge and opportunity of designing a cathedral, yet this was precisely the situation in which Basil Spence found himself when he was successful in his application to replace Coventry's war-damaged original. Today, the building which evolved from his initial competition entry is regarded as a classic of British architecture.
It is also a fascinating document of the process by which Spence applied modern principles to the solution of an age-old problem - that of realising the doctrines of Christianity in stone and glass, in tangible form, so as to reach out to and inspire the population.
The New Cathedral has a monumental presence: sheer walls rise up to a height much greater than those of its ruined counterpart; a vast flight of steps exaggerates its elevation above ground level. The walls are emphatically bare, lacking the decorative and structurally necessary buttresses of traditional Gothic cathedrals. In this aspect the cathedral is clearly a product of modernity, as it demonstrates how modern construction methods have contributed to the evolution of new forms. So stark is the exterior that it has been described as a cliff-like edifice, an impression that is reinforced by the tall, slender columns of the entry porch and the five pairs of narrow windows that flank the main building. The assertive verticality of these features emphasises its scale.
Considering these features might almost encourage a Corbusian interpretation of the cathedral, since they are characteristic of the Modern Movement. Much of the controversy that it faced centred on fears that it would be such a "concrete monstrosity". Spence has, however, utilised certain devices which refute this early impression and suggest that it demonstrates a more consummate affinity with Gothic architecture than with Modernism.
It is built not of concrete, but of stone, a pink sandstone which matches that of the old cathedral. The windows are far from being the "ribbon windows" of Modernism: strong, stone mullions belie any impression of a vast expanse of glass in favour of one more synchronous with the nearby ruin. The zigzag walls incorporating these windows contrast to the plain facades advocated by Modernists, and have even been extended beyond the level of the roof to emphasise their innovative structure.
The exterior has been further articulated with a vast Baptistry window that dominates the south wall and disrupts the symmetry so far upheld by the porch and window-series. Asymmetry persists in the Chapel of Unity, which lies on the North wall. A rare requirement for a cathedral, this chapel is intended for inter-denominational worship, and Spence took care to express this function in his design. A star-like floor plan is described by projecting wall sections that feature an extremely narrow window in the apex of each. The whole structure tapers towards the top, where a facetted, conical roof seems to focus the ten star-points into a single peak. Spence has written that he adopted the star structure as it would impart unity and strength to the chapel.
The Chapel of Christ the Servant is a cylindrical structure on the altar-end of the South wall, and, like the Chapel of Unity, is clad in slate. Narrow windows of clear glass are situated in the intervals between these vertical slate struts. Evidently, Spence has varied the materials of the exterior quite significantly, but he has not gone beyond a certain point. The green slate of these chapels harmonises with the cathedral's green copper roof and Sir Jacob Epstein's bronze statue of St Michael and the Devil. (This adorns the Baptistry wall). The cathedral, therefore, is represented by only two main colours, and this coexistence of a fascinating variation in detail and the impression of harmony and homogeneity at a distance is a major contributor to its evocative power.
At the west end is the entry porch, which is both an innovative structure and a central aspect of the cathedral's symbolism. Two copper canopies, almost wave-like in their design, surmount the four pairs of slender columns. They project from the main body of the cathedral and extend towards the old. Across these canopies is stretched a larger, curved canopy of the same material. Rectangular columns support the end of this and have been incorporated into the brickwork of the ruin. Finally, a Mercia cross is suspended between the two outer pillars at each side of the porch.
The porch signifies a determination to unite the old and new cathedrals. It is a bridge between them suggesting that this is one cathedral with one purpose. The slender columns and delicate roof structure (which for economic reasons were revised from an earlier, more massive version) soften the contrast between the monolithic new cathedral and the delicate, lace-like structure of the old. This, of course, is enhanced by the use of the same pink sandstone for both, although I think the integration of the new cathedral's brickwork into the ruin is perhaps too literal, and undermines this skilful subtlety.
Standing within the ruins, the shape of the gothic-arched doorway is echoed by the broad curve of the entry porch. The immense glass screen occupying the entire west wall reflects the ruin, which is always visible through it. Effectively, the screen makes it impossible to resolve the two buildings as separate; they are inextricably linked in both eye and mind.
