The map had shown a kirk and a chapel on
this tiny Shetland island – Fair Isle. What was the difference? Why
two places of worship for such a minuscule community of only 44
residents? - see: http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/09/fair-isle-kirk-ordinary-classic-beauty.html
We had chosen to visit the museum, and
discovered by chance that the chapel was its neighbour. Arriving early, just before opening time - or was it that the museum
opened a little later than usual? - the opportunity was taken to look
more closely at this nearby, unremarkable building, just to fill in
the time. One wondered: was it derelict; unused? Like the museum, it was a simple, unpainted, unpretentious
stone building with a slated gable roof. One had to walk around to
the eastern elevation to get to the font door located in a small
porch below the high bellcote. The detour took one past the western
wall with its two, polycarbonate-protected stained glass windows,
and along the northern wall with two similarly shaped,
Gothic-decorated openings glazed in clear glass matching those on
the south. The medieval ornamental glazing bar pattern was repeated
in the opening over the entry door. Unusually, this chapel turned its
back to the west. The knob was tried; the door opened. Such
insignificant occasions as this provide a generous sense of
satisfaction embodying both a feeling of welcome and trust, offering
a glimpse of hope to humanity.
The door opened
directly into the compact, diminutive interior space that was
decorated in surprisingly delightful colours. One was reminded of
Norwegian church interiors: see -
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/02/ulvik-church-norway-tradition-in-timber.html
and
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/03/the-church-of-egersund-necessity-of.html
Did the Norwegians have an influence here? The pews were a rich sky
blue; the walls to dado height were a strong red-orange hue; the
ceiling was a pale purple; the cornice, a burgundy red. The window
reveals were clad and framed in neatly, nautically-detailed,
clear-finished timber. The remaining walls were a soft,
off-white hue. The place of worship was a truly pleasant
surprise, wildly different to the harsh, stark rigour of the
Presbyterian pure white interiors that seemed to frown on things
decorative, playful and enjoyable.
Illustration in porch
Biblical comic humour - The Flock by Keith Reynolds
Unlike the clear-glazed windows, the western stained glass openings have painted reveals with a burgundy trim.
The bench-like
seats, hardly, it appeared, shaped for comfort, were set out in the
traditional basilica format, facing the pulpit aligned on the centre
aisle at the western end of the chapel. It was not a 'sideways' kirk: see -
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/lunna-kirk.html
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/03/hillswick-kirk-architecture-time.html
The traditional orientation seemed to be inverted. The prospect inside, looking from the west back to the east, offered no more surprises. There was no gallery like that of the miniature chapel on Fetlar that shaped a transitional entry zone. This was one simple, wholesome space, a colourful interior for soulful worship – both song and praise. There were no tricks here; just a delight in the basics painted in pretty, bold colours that suggested ‘Virgin Mary’ blue and the crimson ‘blood of Christ,’ reminders of Catholicism and its strict, almost cliché iconography: but was this mere fantasising? The unexpected icon on the wall did not seem to be too much out of place in this little, painted celebration.
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2013/02/lunna-kirk.html
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2017/03/hillswick-kirk-architecture-time.html
The traditional orientation seemed to be inverted. The prospect inside, looking from the west back to the east, offered no more surprises. There was no gallery like that of the miniature chapel on Fetlar that shaped a transitional entry zone. This was one simple, wholesome space, a colourful interior for soulful worship – both song and praise. There were no tricks here; just a delight in the basics painted in pretty, bold colours that suggested ‘Virgin Mary’ blue and the crimson ‘blood of Christ,’ reminders of Catholicism and its strict, almost cliché iconography: but was this mere fantasising? The unexpected icon on the wall did not seem to be too much out of place in this little, painted celebration.
View through entry door, looking east
Fetlar Kirk - like the Fair Isle chapel, this building also faces east
Fetlar Kirk - south elevation
Interior Fetlar Kirk
The space was
vacated, the door carefully shut, and the track to the museum was
retaken. It must have opened by now. The sign pointing the direction
was discovered at the front of the chapel. It seems that the initial
approach to this place of worship had been from the rear, via the
‘back door’. A local had dropped us off at the museum, so perhaps
this explained the informal route. It was a surprisingly rough track
that did leave one pondering the possibilities of the frequency of
its use.
Museum next to chapel
Evidence of old structure on end of museum
The museum is
another story. The chapel had told its own as it held its own as a
humble, unremarkable ‘shed’ building with a special interior. It
is a place literally of the heart, to be recalled and remembered as
it stands integrated into the landscape of the crofts with its
external building materials matching structures with other more
profane purposes.
Looking south from chapel
The chapel above the croft building, looking north
Nearby croft building
Museum on ridge, centre left; chapel on right
Just why there
were two places of worship on this fragment of isolated rock was
never discovered.* The contrast with the white-painted kirk was
revealed later when it was visited: the chapel concealed a richer
interior encased in an ordinary stone shell; the kirk presented a
more conservative, ‘smart’ rigour both inside and out. Was this the chapel’s
message to the world? It was, indeed is, a modest wonder standing,
unlike the kirk with its more dramatic location, amongst the mundane,
almost ad hoc structures and activities of the southern crofting
portion of the island. This was an ‘everyday’ chapel: welcoming
and memorable; accommodating rather than demanding – beautiful. One
saw how architecture did not have to be a determined struggle to be
uniquely different to hold sense and meaning; to embody and enjoy substance, life, with both tolerance and humour.
Shed on the approach to the chapel
*
Some time later,
after the trip to Fair Isle, the information was found on the
Internet - see:
http://www.undiscoveredscotland.co.uk/fairisle/church/index.html
Here, in this
text, it is explained that the chapel is a Methodist structure, while
the kirk is a Church of Scotland building:
Measuring some three miles from north
to south and a mile and a half from east to west, Fair Isle is
Scotland's most remote inhabited island. It lies some 25 miles south
west of the southern tip of Mainland Shetland and some
30 miles north east of the nearest of the Orkney Islands.
There are two churches on Fair Isle.
The white harled Church of Scotland Kirk was built in 1892 and stands
a little to the south of the Fair Isle School and Hall. The Methodist
Chapel was built in 1886 and lies close to the south end of the
island, near the Fair Isle Haa and the George Waterston Memorial
Centre and Museum. Sunday services alternate between the two.
The exterior of the chapel is plain
stone rubble, with an entrance porch at the east end with a small
bellcote at the top of the east gable.
The interior is lit by two windows on
each side, deeply recessed in the thick stone walls. The colour
scheme is strikingly attractive. The light blue woodwork of the pews
contrasts strikingly with the red in which the lower half of the
walls are painted, and which is used to outline the window alcoves.
Decoration includes a beautiful
tapestry above the communion table. But perhaps most striking are the
two stained glass windows. Both carry inscriptions noting that were
gifted in 1936 by Thomas Wilson in remembrance of his father, mother
and grand aunt.
P.S.
The claim to being
‘Scotland’s most remote inhabited island’ seems to be based on
some specific understanding of ‘remote.’ Unst is the most
northerly island of Britain, and Scotland, and is inhabited. It is
the ‘most remote’ island from the Scottish mainland. Of all the
islands in Shetland, Fair Isle is the most southerly. If one wishes
to continue these geographic extremes, Foula is the most western,
and the Out Skerries are the most easterly. All of these locations
are inhabited, and in some way can be seen to be ‘remote.’ The
boast about Fair Isle must have something to do with access. Foula is
20 miles off the west coast of Shetland; the Out Skerries is 24 miles
northeast of Lerwick. Fair Isle is 25 miles south of Sumburgh.
This argument uisng
distance might be a lay-down misère
for Shetland, but the Isle of Lewis is 65 miles form Ullapool. Maybe
the ‘remote’ claim is more than distance. Does it have something
to do with population numbers, economics and services too; or is the
claim merely tourism hype? Fair Isle holds a sense of being remote in
its mystique rooted in yarns and beautifully knitted patterns, the
origins of which remain unknown: some say Spain; others Norway; still
others say South America. Given the large number of shipwrecks on
this small rock, the likelihood of any of these sources is possible.
One just has to enjoy the craft and think less about its history, a
little like Fair Isle itself.
Fair Isle knitting patterns
THE CONTEXT
The chapel
The museum with croft below:
note the glasshouse on the left detailed with the lighthouse glazing pattern
Nearby croft houses
The southern lighthouse:
the south and north Stevenson lighthouses match as a pair, with one being tall, the other short but elevated.
Adjacent crofts
Looking east to the North Sea
All above photos (except aerial image & Fair Isle patterns) copyright author
Chapel - Trekearth: Katya
Chapel - Flikr: Douglas Law
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