DC Lent Events: Two Upcoming Opportunities

Passiontide
Date: Saturday, March 12th
Time: 7:00-8:00 pm
Location: St. Dominic’s (L’Enfant Plaza)

I’ve written about events at beautiful St. Dominic’s Parish before, such as in this piece for New Liturgical Movement, and its splendid NeoGothic architecture has been featured on my Instagram account. Now the Dominican Friars are pleased to invite you to attend their second annual Lenten service titled “Passiontide”. And there is an old skool-style video game – I kid you not – that the Friars have invented to get you interested in attending:

There’s a huge candlelit vigil at St. Dominic’s Church called Passiontide. Preaching, chanting, and Lenten readings by the Dominican Friars. A large celebration follows. Sat March 12 at 7pm. Here’s a VIDEO GAME about the event. RSVP here. Help with food and setup is welcome.

You can see some really beautiful photographs from last year’s Passiontide service here.

Last weekend I got to hang out with the Dominican Friars at Dominican House and eat a mountain of tater tots, which has NO bearing on my plugging this event for them, none at all. However I want to encourage you to take that extra step this Lent, even if you already plan to attend the Triduum, and do something a bit different, that stretches you out a bit more and challenges you to make this your best Lent yet. Here is a wonderful opportunity to do just that.

Stations of the Cross and Friday Fish Fry
Date: Friday, March 11th and 18th
Time: 6:30-9:30 PM
Location: Epiphany Parish (Georgetown)

Father Adam Park, one of the most enthusiastic young priests whom you will ever meet, hosts this weekly event at historic Epiphany Parish in Georgetown during Lent. The traditional practice of the Stations of the Cross is held in this pretty, Italianate church, built in the 1920’s, and is followed by a Friday Fish Fry supper afterwards. I ran into Fr. Park yesterday at the Newman Center on campus at GWU, where he has two hours of Eucharistic Adoration followed by Mass, every weekday beginning at 4:00pm, and he reminded me that this prayerful but enjoyable evening deserves my attention. And as I see it, it also deserves yours.

There is always a smart and interesting group at the evening, which is particularly popular among DC-area young professionals, and it is a good place to meet new people. More importantly however, it allows us to take time out on a Friday and walk with Christ, retracing His steps on that Good Friday 2,000 years ago. As He carries His Cross, we pause to pray and meditate along the way, reminding ourselves of His sacrifice.

For practical information, you can visit Epiphany Parish’s website. There are only two of these evenings remaining on the calendar, because we are getting to the end of the Lenten season already. Again, you don’t want to miss the opportunity to do something more this Lent!

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Boxing Mismatch: This Building Is No Knockout

Over on The Georgetown Metropolitan, Topher Matthews reports on a forthcoming building project by DC developers EastBanc which, frankly, ought to be titled “A Nightmare on M Street”:

http://georgetownmetropolitan.com/2015/06/23/heres-what-eastbanc-wants-to-build-at-penn-and-m/

Although making use of this tiny parcel of land for a “statement” building may seem strange to outsiders, for many Georgetowners this is *the* key route in and out of the city of Washington, which Georgetown itself predates. As such, it sets the tone for those arriving in the neighborhood. A run-down gas station, even a mock Colonial one such as the one currently occupying this gateway site, does no one any favors, visually speaking.

Of course, while the choice of a Brutalist 2.0 building to fill this prominent spot in the village is truly a terrible one, it isn’t as if the intersection plays host to any significant or even particularly attractive works of architecture. For all its stars and accolades from the rich and famous, the Four Seasons Hotel on 28th and Pennsylvania is a bland building, which would look more at home on the campus of a small technical college.

The other structures surrounding the parcel where this new condo will rise are mostly average-to-bad. The building currently housing the Tari Salon is a dated, immature thing, an attempt to Robert Venturi-size the concept of the mansard roof and the turret. The Mongolian Embassy on the corner of M and 29th is an architectural  disaster, mixing ersatz American Colonial with references to the vaguely Neoclassical Revival former movie theatre next door (now a CVS), in a decidedly unfriendly way.  Those gated and unused mini-courtyards alone make one shudder.

On the plus side, the commercial building on the corner of 28th and M is rather handsome, with its dormered windows, solid stance, and wide veranda.  Stylistically, it belongs somewhere else – say New Orleans or Natchez – and as a practical feature the veranda fails, since it faces due South, baking all day long in the scorching heat, and you will never spot anyone sitting out on it. The rowhouses containing Das restaurant on the north side of the confluence of streets, and those housing a selection of small specialty shops and cafes on the other, are perfectly fine, even if there is nothing particularly special about them, architecturally speaking.

The problem with this newest addition to the village fabric is not just its ugliness, but that it has nothing to do with the mostly modest scale of the surrounding buildings. Part of the charm of Georgetown is that, with a few exceptions, most of the neighborhood’s architecture really isn’t of any particular architectural significance or grandeur. For every Tudor Place or Healy Hall, there are 50 standard brick row houses that could be found in just about any East Coast city.

Rather what is significant about the neighborhood is the whole: the “conjunto” as one would say in Spanish. It is greater than the sum of its parts. Georgetown’s architecture is a mixture of styles, materials, and methods, all (generally) peacefully coexisting alongside each other.  Strolling through the village is like taking a walking tour of the course of American design over four centuries.

In choosing to position a structure better-suited to Ballston on such a prominent parcel, what is EastBanc saying about the perception visitors and residents are meant to have about the neighborhood? An unremarkable and unattractive apartment building which looks like it could just as easily stand in suburban Lima or Lahore does not say much to me as a local. What does it say to those tourists, shoppers, and diners on whose spending the entire neighborhood depends?

Perhaps it’s unfair to put such a burden on the shoulders of a condo building.  However after the success of its High Street condo along the C&O Canal, a highly successful design completed just a few months ago, it does seem that EastBanc has dropped the ball on this one. This will prove to be a major lost opportunity for the neighborhood. Tearing down a crumbling, if inoffensive, commercial building and replacing it with a building of no charm or distinction whatsoever, in the most beautiful neighborhood in the city, seems a significant blow to the village in particular, and to DC as a whole.

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College Is Not Paradise

“I have to go to school today.”

I caught myself saying this out loud this morning as I left the house, not because I’m actually back in classes, but because I have to go up to campus on my way home this afternoon to run an errand.  Even though I graduated from Georgetown University years ago, I still refer to it as “school”, even in casual conversation with friends and acquaintances who weren’t classmates of mine on the Hilltop.  As I’ve gotten older, however, I’ve come to appreciate the fact that as much as I enjoyed my time there, it was not an earthly paradise.

The fact that years later, I ended up living a few blocks away from the university I attended was not something I could have predicted, when I walked out of those front gates for what I thought would be the last time after graduation.  Like anyone else, I left with my head full of contradictory plans, some of which came to pass, and some of which did not.  Yet on the whole, I’m better for having left behind the fallacy of believing that my best years were my college years – a malady which, surprisingly, seems to affect a number of people I know.

I’ve been thinking about this albatross-like perception of one’s alma mater recently, in the context of a conversation I had with a friend about the work of F. Scott Fitzgerald.  Best known for his novel “The Great Gatsby”, Fitzgerald did not have a huge literary output, for among other reasons having died too young, and never quite getting a handle on his alcohol addiction.  While there are many great things about “Gatsby”, it’s definitely not my favorite work of his. A contender for that title is his first published novel, “This Side of Paradise”, which is loosely based on some of Fitzgerald’s experiences as an undergraduate at Princeton.

In some ways “Paradise” can be viewed as the American version of Evelyn Waugh’s “Brideshead Revisited”, albeit written a quarter of a century earlier. As in “Brideshead” there is the same sense of wasted, fast living by well-dressed young people at a prestigious university, the flickering presence of Catholic faith, and the desire to pursue and win a girl above the station of the narrator.  There is also in both works a similar glow about the towers of the collegiate buildings, seen through rose-colored lenses, which alumni of any old, beautiful school can relate to.

Those who find themselves, as I do, within a stroll of the campus where they spent the first, formative part of their adulthood, usually end up seeing things differently.  Dear alma mater, which was home for four years, now becomes just another venue for attending events, conducting business, or the like. Alumni who have moved on with their lives, even as they have moved away, can have the same perception.  To quote Addison DeWitt in “All About Eve” (as I often do), “I have not come to New Haven to see the play, discuss your dreams, or pull the ivy from the walls of Yale.”

Throughout “Paradise” Fitzgerald himself, although still a young man when he wrote the book, recognizes that his time at college was not something to cling to as the high point of his life, preventing him from doing anything else worthwhile again.  “Youth is like having a big plate of candy,” he writes. “Sentimentalists think they want to be in the pure, simple state they were in before they ate the candy. They don’t. They just want the fun of eating it all over again.”

At the conclusion of “Paradise”, the main character finds himself out in the world, unsure of exactly where he is to go or what he really believes in, despite all of the golden-rayed images of his time at college.  He returns to Princeton for a visit late at night, and reflects on the fact that now, other young people are living in those hallowed halls, learning about the same things he did, having their own experiences of socializing and becoming adults.  In doing so, he finds that he does not envy them; rather, he pities them, because he realizes that he is an adult, with adult things to do.

To me, that’s the real lesson of both “Paradise” and “Brideshead”, as well as my periodic visits to my own college campus.  One should never completely discard the good things of youth, such as curiosity, wonder, passion, occasional silliness, or a sense of adventure.  Yet the focus as we grow older needs to become more about what is to be done in the here and now, particularly in service to others, rather than being caught up in the past, ruminating on the dreams of yesterday and what might have been.

For Paradise, in the end, is not supposed to be a few years on college campus: it’s what our lives right now are supposed to be leading us to.

Healy Hall, Georgetown University (Photo by the Author)

Healy Hall, Georgetown University
(Photo by the Author)