Common Prayer

In June of 2003, I began photographing churches in Atlantic Canada. These were small churches, often found in small communities and out-of-the-way places. I wasn’t drawn to any particular denominations, but to modest, highly-individual structures built not as a testament to God’s glory on earth, but as a place of reverence, as a place to gather.

At first the project was about individuality — peculiar details that made the churches stand out, such as crosses made from plumbing pipe, Astroturfed steps, hand-painted signs, missing shingles, peculiar window placements. As the body of work began to grow however, some patterns began to emerge; that, despite the highly unique nature of the buildings, there were certain aspects which began repeating, whether it was the general shape of the church, or that several of them all had hand-painted signs. Over time, various typologies became apparent, and as a result, I became interested in the tension that arose between similarity and individuality. That within a general architectural style, interesting details manifest themselves. When the structures are considered in sub-groupings of similar styles, the individual details become that much more apparent, and make obvious these specific traits.

This country is experiencing, for better or for worse, a continual shrinking of a church-going population. As congregations dwindle and age, these small, unique structures are being abandoned, destroyed, turned into seniors’ and community halls, or sold as private residences. Aside from religious beliefs, this points to a diminishing of public gathering places. Do people feel less inclined to meet publicly? Or, has the venue of public gatherings simply changed?

In the years since I began this project, the documentary aspect of Common Prayer has become more and more prescient, as one by one, these buildings disappear from the landscape.