e-mail: simon@suffolkchurches.co.uk

All Hallows, Ipswich

In an earlier version of this entry, I described All Hallows as unlovely. This has troubled me since, because I have increasingly come to see that it isn't true. The setting is certainly not splendid; this is no Cavendish, with its village green, or even Hadleigh, with its grand urban setting. But there is much more to here than meets the eye.

Ignore the setting, this is a major Art Deco building.

All Hallows is the most interesting of the three churches Monro Cautley designed for Suffolk. This may be damning it with faint praise, since his work so often bears the mark of a heavy hand. Cautley was such an enthusiastic medievalist that, in other idioms, he tended to focus on rigour rather than thrill. That said, this 1939 building has a much greater liveliness than his more famous St Augustine of Hippo nearby, built some 15 years earlier. Perhaps Cautley was reacting against the unashamed Modernism of Felixstowe St Andrew, a 1930 church in the Evangelical tradition.

All Hallows is a red brick church, on the edge of the Gainsborough estate, one of Ipswich's poorest areas. As with its near neighbour, the Catholic St James, it has successfully become a central focus of the neighbourhood, and has a lively parish. The adjacent hall is in frequent use.

Externally, it is not an ornate church, despite the little tower with its cross. "People say it looks like a power station", says vicar Christine Garrard. "I always say, Good! Because that's exactly what it is!"

Looking east, down the cinema rake. The nave altar, and beyond, the high altar. Note the matching pulpit and lectern.

Perhaps the most famous power station in all England at present is Bankside, now converted to become the fabulous Tate Modern. All Hallows has the same gritty quasi-industrial quality - and it is quality, for there is a soundness and symmetry about the way those red bricks build to their big-boned roof, with bold angles and geometric juxtapositions.

I think this is one of the most significant 1930s buildings in Suffolk. There are a few which are more important, most notably, perhaps, parts of the Royal Hospital School at Holbrook, and the Gaumont (now Regent) Theatre in Ipswich.

The building has an interesting shape which suggests surprises inside. This impression is rewarded as you step through the doors. This is no mere hall. Instead, there is a lovely interior with a devotional atmosphere.

The dimness inside is pierced by high windows, amplifying the sense of the numinous. As far as possible, I have tried not to use flash in these photographs, to preserve a sense of the ambience.

Entrance is by way of a sheltered porch on the north side of the building.

You step into the north transept, which was at one time designated the 'Boys Brigade' chapel, but has been reordered to provide a space for young children to be together during the services.

The fact that this places them closer to the nave altar than the rest of the congregation reflects the sacramental priorities of this worshipping community.

The nave altar...

...and the high altar beyond.

The Lady Chapel - like being in the undercroft of a cathedral.

Opposite: the Lady Chapel sanctuary. Note the Aumbry.

The piscina in the Lady Chapel.

Here, in functional brick with narrow lancet windows, so that we have the impression of being in an underground crypt, we find a beautiful devotional atmosphere.

The sanctuary echoes the medieval integrity of the churches Cautley knew so well, with a piscina and aumbry picked out in brick.

To the west of the church, the nave is the only one in Suffolk with a cinema rake, the back pews about a metre higher than those at the front, the sight-lines focused on the high altar.

"The slope is very gentle, but we do have to warn funeral directors", observed Revd Chris. Beyond the rake, a baptistery is filled with light; it was recently reordered, and restored to use. The font and cover are Cautley's design.

The cinema rake. Note the Baptistery beyond, and Cautley's blind arcades in the wall. High windows inject a sense of mystery. The pews are from Ely Cathedral.

I was lucky to be shown around by Revd Chris, the Priest of this parish, and the Parish Assistant, Roz Leggett. This is a unique arrangement in Suffolk, incidentally; when a former ordained member of the Pastoral team left, the Diocese looked to replace them with another stipendary Priest; however, the parish community here were adamant that they wanted a paid layperson to fill the role, and after much negotiation that is what has happened. That both Priest and Parish Assistant are women says a lot about the inclusive and affirming nature of this parish.

Well, he didn't really. He's using the language of Art Deco, but he's still thinking Medieval.

Witness the clerestory above the transepts, the blind arcades in the nave walls, the brick arches on creamy columns reminiscent of Polstead.

There is the baptistery, the transepts themselves, the Lady chapel. The Victorian Gothic benches that come from Ely Cathedral, and the medieval bell from a disused Norfolk church.

Whichever way you look at it, this is a delightful, devotional building, one which deserves many more visitors than it gets. It is also the heart of a vibrant, living faith community; a power station indeed.

The baptistery, recently restored to use.

As though transported from a French cathedral, light fills the clerestory above the north transept arcade.

Opposite: Cautley's blind arcades, just in case you missed the point.