THE SKAILL KIRK – SIDEWAYS IN ORKNEY

We had visited Skara Brae some years ago, but decided to return with friends who had not been before. The visitor centre was much the same. It had been carefully crafted to be a cafe/information centre/shop as these places usually are. The exterior attempted to maintain a presence in scale, texture and form that seemed to be based on a vision of what the neolithic settlement might have once looked or felt like. These strategies are always tricky as they are purely hypothetical; best guesses if you like. Still, it was not a bad way to begin thinking about building near such an ancient site. One had to be careful not to create the main attraction, even though many think the visitor centre is, what with all of its engaging commercial amenities and convenient practical facilities: indeed, with some irony, some folk call in just to experience the visitor centre and indulge in its services.*

The interior was easy to comprehend, as shops, cafes, and information centres all seem to have the same feel and identity. It was the next step that differed. Visitors were ushered into a tiny theatrette off to one side where they were told to watch a movie, a detour that seemed to be a necessary prerequisite to entry. One immediately suspected this procedure, felt uneasy about it, expecting a self-promotional, unwanted, half-an-hour long movie production; but no! To one’s delight, the film was a crisp, compact four-minute overview: just enough for a sit-down, a break before the real thing. Was the film clip being used as traffic lights sometimes are at various feed-ins to highways, to control the momentum of the impact of the crowds?

After the viewing, folk exited into an area that one soon realized was a reconstruction of a few of the spaces one was going to soon see as original excavations. It was a good idea, both introducing the settlement to the visitors and allowing them to feel the spaces and to walk between them, something that was forbidden at the excavations where there was a strict supervision on everyone’s every move: one had to keep to the path. Walking on the grass was forbidden, and was stridently supervised by uniformed eyes keen to highlight and publicly reprimand any contact see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/10/skara-brae-form-failing-function.html  Uniforms seem to embolden even modest Orkney folk. It was in these replica areas that one saw the assumptions archaeologists had made for the roofs. The excavations had revealed no clues on just how the ancient living areas had been enclosed. The typical conical roof of the classic neolithic roundhouse appeared to have been used as a model for the superstructure. It was an interesting assemblage, even if it might have been incorrect: but how did a set of conical forms actually fit the excavations? This never seemed to have been explored. One was surprised to see how the reconstruction of the stonework was so accurate; to see that the ancient skills were still accessible today.

Moving out into the brightening afternoon light diffused by the fast-moving morning’s storm clouds, one found oneself on a formed track of decomposed granite, precisely defined and directed towards Skara Brae, the neolithic village. It was a good near-half-kilometre walk. One can understand the visitor centre being kept at such a distance from such an important place. On arrival, one found the village enclosed by a protective personnel barrier with a step-around gate access that led onto more defined walking strips, now paved in stone. The surprise was that the old village was so small. Might it really have accommodated the 50/100 people as suggested on the information plaque? The plan indicated an ambitious ten living quarters; but another illustrated only six hearths. Given that a hearth is a home, even fifty seems a gross exaggeration. One struggled to see more than four sleeping areas even in the largest of living spaces, making 30 people seem a more reasonable guess for this village.

Six hearths

Signs warned folk to KEEP TO THE PATH: KEEP OFF GRASS. It was an impossible ask: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/10/skara-brae-form-failing-function.html  The defined procession felt like a sideshow, perhaps like moving through a mirror maze or a hall of horrors. One just moved on in a linear strip, almost mindlessly, pausing from time to time and causing problems with the grass-free flow along one-person wide pavements. One gawked and admired, and moved on, hoping not to have been a nuisance. What was one to do with such an organised, precise progression? The sunken living area that had a glazed roof over it last time we were there, had now been fully enclosed; the associated viewing paths had been closed off too. Apparently ancient things do not do well in the humid heat of a glass house. The idea of enclosed display seemed to be a curator’s nightmare mistake.

But were these really originally sunken dwellings? Everything appeared to suggest that these were underground homes. Maybe they were not! The neolithic settlement was only discovered after a treacherous storm in 1850 washed away the sand dunes and exposed the walls. Who knows exactly what was what before the sand built up around the walls as it must have done. It is difficult to tell the difference between a free-standing stone wall and one built to retain a cut. The stones at the Broch of Gurness make this very obvious. Maybe Skara Brae was a sea-side village just like any other at the time, built of dry stone walls and roofed – well, we do not know: maybe with conical, skin-clad structures as has been suggested. Why does one never see this hypothesis tested as an image? It would not take much time to try the idea out on a plan drawing of the settlement. One should never be afraid of being proven wrong. One has to wonder why these places might have been constructed below ground and still have been roofed as if they were not. Why might the enclosure not be like Maes Howe? Why was there no evidence of any roof enclosure in the excavations? How rigorous was the initial dig? Victorians do not have a good reputation for precision or tenacity. They seemed to place the importance of their study in the confirmation of some romantic vision, often rebuilding to confirm this theory, as in Maes Howe where the new stone enclosure is painted an ungainly white.

The crude Victorian enclosure of Maes Howe

The details for habitation can still be appreciated

Cupboard, hearth and beds - the dwelling

Skaill House

One left the excavations through another walk-around gate, and followed yet another defined track to nearby Skaill House. By this time the cesspit odour from the adjacent farm was proving to be almost overwhelming, an unfortunate experience that changed one’s attitude to this ancient location. Cow dung slops are never a pleasant mix with anything, let alone an ancient site about which one might seek some empathy. One went to Skaill House only because the ticket allowed one to go; it was not an exciting detour, just another task: one had come to see Skara Brae. There was some history here in this large house, mainly personal family history. The exhibit was an interesting linear progression through parts of the old home that brought one close to the starting point on exiting. One saw the ghost of an ordinary privileged life on display, its intimate figments and exotic memorabilia.

The mantelpiece reminds one of the stone cupboards at Skara Brae

Was this ledge used as a mantelpiece is today?

The hearth was placed centrally in the living area.

The view across the bay to the kirk

Skara Brae proved to be not as interesting as it was the first time: might it have been the crowds? Word was that the morning was hectic: a cruise ship had turned up in Kirkwall – 4000 people in by 10am out by 5pm; but the afternoon was still busy, but happily bus-free. One spent more time on this visit looking around at the context. From Skara Brae, looking north across the arc of the beach lining the bay, one could see in the distance what looked like a small kirk. It appeared to have all of the characteristics of a sideways kirk – see https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2017/04/shetlands-sideways-churches-creativity.html One could glimpse two large windows on the south elevation with two smaller ones either side. This would have to be checked out! Was this an Orkney sideways kirk? During the stroll through Skaill House, in the child’s area, one discovered a watercolour sketch showing Hole of Row and Church near Skaill 1887. The unique features of the kirk were confirmed. One might have to return to Orkney just to see this building.

Skaill Kirk

The watercolour painting

Strolling back to the visitor centre took us to the carparking area, and our car. We had no need to visit the cafe or shop, so we left. Driving off we reached the gate to the main road. A quick, impulsive left turn took us towards the kirk; one just had to have a quick look: we had time.

The reconstructed display of the visitor centre:

did Skara Brae once look like this?

Skaill Kirk

Driving along the water’s edge took us past farms to a small, empty car park at the kirk. It was a harsh boxed gable building, ugly, lacking in all style and finesse. The entry gate to the graveyard surrounds was ajar, something that is frowned upon in these places where animals are excluded from these hallowed, walled zones. On approaching the undecorated, semi-circular arched door opening on the east, a couple exited the church. A nod, and one entered the church alone. It was indeed a sideways kirk, a rather splendid one when compared to the tiny size of the kirk at Lunna, the oldest in Shetland – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/02/lunna-kirk.html This interior was unusually spacious, high, wide and deep, bright with light. It held everything a sideways kirk needed – the centre-wall, half-height pulpit with its canopy located between two large windows; a font, and a seat for the elders a step above floor level; seating for the congregation arranged in a ‘U’ around this centrepiece under a mezzanine accessed by two corner stairs; but here the mezzanine was half an octagon in profile, such was the generosity of options available in this volume. There was nothing cosy or intimate about this place that seemed to concentrate on display. The typical plan of the sideways kirk was for the mezzanine seating to match the setout of that below.

Moving to the corner stairs to go to the upper level, one soon discovered another variation. Instead of the stairs being tightly fitted into the corner framed by the neat forming of the mezzanine, this corner was an open truncated space, with the side of the larger outer octagon forming a generous triangular void for the stair that reminded one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s New York Guggenheim detailing – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2017/12/frank-lloyd-wright-accommodating.html It was an expansive space in a plan form that one had come, in other circumstances, to be seen as a tight, frugal use of interior space. Here it seemed there was so much ‘spare’ volume that one could begin playing games. Perhaps the Orkney church was less severe in its approach to life than that in Shetland?

The open corner stair

New York Guggenheim stairs

Moving into the mezzanine area, one could see the geometric, octagonal arrangement of the seating neatly set out in an impressive array: there was nothing ‘second class’ about sitting up here. The profile of the mezzanine did not match the rectangular format of the seating below, but it worked and felt well, having ample, almost an excessive height. This upper volume had all of the characteristics of the usual sideways kirk, plus a couple of inventions. This was a grand space.

The lower display space in the southwest corner under the mezzanine is the location of the original vestry.

A passageway linked the vestry to the below-pulpit access in the south wall.

The pulpit stair has been realigned north-south: see P.S. below. 

The north wall

Moving back outside, one circumnavigated the building to inspect its severity, noting the tiny pair of northern windows, and a matching semi-circular headed door on the west. There was an unusual door located so as to give access to a space that seemed to be below the pulpit on the south - see P.S. below. The building expression was unforgiving, grim, strict in its orientation with its core axis of entry running east-west, and with the pulpit on the south, sunlit wall, with the two large windows declaring, ‘I am the light of the world,’ reinforcing the message of the word coming from between. There was no indication of anything grand or symbolic outside, nothing but harsh openings punched into in plain, rendered walls. These simple geometrical perforations appeared to echo the forms of the gravestones, creating a phantom collage of haunting references.

There was no ‘waste’ here outside to match the differently spacious celebrations of the interior. The bellcote stood high over the western gable indicating the purpose of the anonymous mass with its formal function; there was nothing more. One was astonished that such a blandly rude exterior could be so boldly pompous on the inside, with an interior that had a spacious, bright, Wren-church feeling about it. Might it have been the flooding natural light and clear glass as one had seen in St. James Church, Piccadilly; perhaps it was the timber detailing decorating the mezzanine in the same place; maybe the semi-circular  profile of the openings brought Wren to mind?

St. James, Piccadilly

Did this lavish kirk space say something about Orkadians? - see: Mackay Brown in https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2018/12/dunrossness-kirk-surprising-sideways.html The Shetland exteriors were equally as bland, but the interiors were much more rigorous, tighter, maybe meaner, with not one square millimetre wasted or ‘played’ with; everything was pure function and purpose. Did Orkney have a more generous understanding of space, something to celebrate in its far more fertile, more productive, flatter land filled with a rich and obviously grandiose archaeology? Was life in Orkney less of a struggle? Were Shetland ministers strict supervisors of life and the living, insistent on rigour in all things? One has heard stories of everything delightful and enjoyable being frowned upon by these intimidating community leaders.

The information boards on display in the church reveal the purpose of the centre door

in old plan - see below

Strolling back to the car with the repeated, quick over-the-shoulder glance, one weaved through the graveyard stones in disbelief. It was a truly wonderful thing to discover – another ‘pure’ sideways kirk to add to the list. This was more exciting than Skara Brae. These kirks are indeed astonishing places. One was pleased that the quick detour had been taken. One might have remained thinking about this place for years if one had not made the turn, just as one continually considers the small kirk on Bressay seen from the departing ferry - see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/01/passing-thoughts-leaving-lerwick-harbour.html One day we’ll get there: it must be a sideways kirk.

NOTES

Looking at Skara Brae on Google Earth, one sees that the little kirk is not called the Skaill Kirk as it was in the child’s sketch - Church at Skaill; it is the Northdyke Church, perhaps defined by its location in relation to Skaill House, lying just north of the Burn of Snusgar near the dyke. Oddly, the sign outside the kirk named it St Peter’s Kirk, and scheduled the opening times: 10am - 6pm. It was a place with a surplus of names as well as an excess of space.

The small information board inside the kirk was of interest and explained the unusual sign noting the opening times, as though the church might be a tourist venue: it was. The plaque noted that this church, St Peter’s of Sandwick, was the first project of the Scottish Redundant Churches Trust (SRCT)# [that] was established to secure the survival of outstanding churches threatened with closure. By acquiring these churches and by conserving them intact as historic buildings, the SRCT aims to preserve a valuable part of Scotland’s ecclesiastical heritage for the future. It is an impressive ideal, especially given the large number of churches that are for sale on these islands and in Shetland. It is good to see this marvelous example of the sideways kirk conserved and protected for the future. One can only hope that more of the same can be purchased and maintained for generations to come. Who knows, with history turning as a wheel, these buildings might once again become thriving community centres of worship.

#The name of the SRCT has been changed to Historic Churches Scotland, that is now a part of the Heritage Trust Network – see: http://www.heritagetrustnetwork.org.uk

Skaill Kirk - plans and section

The original pulpit and stair

Note the passageway to the vestry blocking off a portion of the large southwestern window

P.S.

It is interesting to note the changes that have been made in the plan of this kirk. These relate to the centre door access below the pulpit in the south wall, and the alignment of the stair rising to the pulpit. The original plan shows how the lower central door on the south elevation was the entrance to what must have been the vestry in the southwest corner of the church under the mezzanine. The stair to the pulpit illustrated in this drawing, is shown running parallel to the south wall, against this passageway to the vestry, offering a functionally neat and direct access to the pulpit from the vestry doorway. The typical sideways plan placed the vestry at the centre of the northern all, on the north-south axis with the pulpit, giving it a authoritative position in the scheme of things: c.f. Shetland sideways kirks below.

It appears as though the refurbishment of the Skaill Kirk removed the vestry, and reconfigured the pulpit stair to run north-south: might its passage-wide offset from the south wall have looked too strange? These changes freed up the ground floor seating space. The removal of the passageway also allowed the lower portion of the main southwestern pulpit window to be opened to match the southeast twin. The alterations modified what really was an awkward piece of planning that squeezed the vestry in almost as an aside; but the renovations have created another intrusive resolution with the relocated stair.

It is strange to have such seemingly ad hoc planning solutions in a place that has been given so much self-consciously different attention. One wonders if the new, spacious, octagonal diagram and its ambitions dominated outcomes to give what looks like a forced, almost temporary, 'make-do' planning solution for the vestry: an afterthought?

It is a circumstance that all architects have encountered, even apparently to Le Corbusier at Ronchamp, where the confessionals have been added to the original plan as a swelling in the exterior western wall, with additional different boxes placed nearby along the northern inside wall of the rear of the chapel, off to one side, seemingly to make up the required numbers.

Note the added confessionals on the top left of the plan

FOR MORE ON SHETLAND’S SIDEWAYS KIRKS

SEE:

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/02/lunna-kirk.html

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2013/02/whalsays-kirk.html

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2015/06/tingwall-kirk.html

https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2018/12/dunrossness-kirk-surprising-sideways.html

*
When seeking a place to eat lunch one day in Dounby, at about 2;30pm, we were told that all nearby facilities would be closed at this time, but that the cafe at Skara Brae would be open.