Not So Orthodox

Yesterday, we headed out past Dolgellau to meet some old friends from Aberystwyth whom we've not seen for far too long, and went for lunch at the Cross Foxes. I had a lovely piece of haddock with proper chips and minted pea purée: unfortunately, before we could order pudding, they had to close the kitchens due to some unspecified emergency.

John suggested that we visited a nearby church - no longer in use, like most these days - as it holds some pretty unusual features for a Welsh church. Dating to 1895-8 and to the designs of Henry Wilson, this Grade One listed building from the outside betrays little of its interior, save for details such as guttering brackets fashioned from wrought iron in elaborate barley twists.

Entering the church you are faced with a relatively plain font, on the wall behind which is a repoussé-worked copper plaque which gives one a clue to the stylistic intent behind the place. Turning to your right, you are faced with a scene more reminiscent of a kind of minimalistic Greek Orthodox Chapel: the pulpit to the left of the nave, halfway down, is clad entirely in similar metalwork, a smallish pipe organ recessed just beyond.

But the real magnificence is where logically, in a church, you would find it: the altarpiece in the apse of the building, shown in the photograph above. But perhaps most surprisingly - aside from the rarity of such Arts & Crafts churches - particularly in Wales, is the decorative style of the walls and the use of multi angled, recessed windows to sculpt the sunlight as it enters the central space of the building: as Mediterranean as anything you would see in Greece, for example, but tempered with the restrained aesthetic of the Arts & Crafts movement. A priceless little gem, nestled on a hillside, shy from the world.