By Robert Berger

From the introduction

The quite exhausting but truly fascinating part of this Sacred Spaces project was the research. Over the past three and a half years I visited more than 300 historic houses of worship built before 1952. Wandering through neighborhoods that seemed as foreign as distant lands, looking for steeples, crosses and domes vaulting towards the sky, I began to appreciate the vast web of Los Angeles, its wide range of cultures and constantly changing demographics.

When I realized the enormous scope of L.A.’s rich religious heritage, it became obvious that putting confines on the project was a necessity. The selection process was a difficult one. In a city this size, comprehensive coverage would be nearly impossible and quite voluminous. I did not attempt a comprehensive list of historic houses of worship in the city, but rather a sampling of architectural styles from various time periods from various religions, from a broad variety of neighborhoods.

Breed Street Shul Congregation Talmud Torah (top) In the early twentieth century, the Breed Street Shul was one of dozens of centers of worship and cultural development serving 75,000 mainly Eastern European Jews in Boyle Heights and City Terrace. Over the years, this population emigrated to other parts of the city. Used only intermittently after sustaining damage in the 1987 Whittier Narrows earthquake, the Breed Street Shul shut down in the mid 1990s. But there are signs of new life: The Jewish Historical Society and activists from the now predominantly Latino neighborhood are working together, with the J. Paul Getty Museum, on plans for the synagogue’s preservation and re-use as a community center.

St. John the Episcopal Church (center) Built to serve the most exclusive residential district in early-twentieth century Los Angeles, St. John’s now stands seemingly stranded between Figueroa Street and the Harbor Freeway. It was completed in 1924. The church’s interior, which seats more than 1,000 people, is highly ornamented and mosaics cover many of the walls.

St. Vincent de Paul Church (bottom) The Roman Catholic church of Saint Vincent de Paul has been called one of the most notable Spanish Colonial Revival Structures in California. The church, at South Figueroa Street and West Adams Boulevard, was consecrated in 1930. It’s construction was funded by oil magnate Edward L. Doheny and his devout wife, Estelle, who resided just behind the church.

Once the selection process was somewhat complete, getting access to the properties became a daunting task. Many sites were very accommodating but others became an exercise in sheer persistence. Frankly, in the end, my rejections were few. Once I was granted access that’s when the fun began. Exploring the diverse interiors, some cavernous and some mysteriously intimate, looking for unusual details and angles was endlessly exciting. The chore became finding electrical outlets that would support our lighting gear.

My family has been in L.A. for more than 100 years and I have lived here most of my life. This project took me into neighborhoods I had never wandered before. Notably, there is Boyle Heights, today a heavily Latino area whose demographic changes are so graphically displayed in the abandoned synagogue on Breed Street and in the Jewish names in the terrazzo storefront sidewalks. Tucked away in the Hollywood Hills there are many shrines for lesser-known religions such as the Krotona Inn and the Vedanta Society. In Silverlake and the central city, Eastern Orthodox churches offer a view of the city’s immigrant past and future. The southern part of L.A. holds the famed Modernist architect R.M. Schindler’s only church design ever built. I made discoveries in every corner of this ever-changing city. The question of “Why here?” was common in my search.

Being a third generation native Angelino, the history of architecture in Los Angeles has become an obsession. In a city not known for its reverence of history or buildings, I feel the continually changing landscape should be captured on film before it is transformed into something totally unrecognizable from the past. From researching my previous book, The Last Remaining Seats: Movie Palaces of Tinseltown, I learned how buildings can transport you back in time. The houses of worship are one of the few existing forms of architecture in the city that can lead you back into the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The 1890’s Plaza around Olvera Street or multi-ethnic 1920’s Boyle Heights come alive in the photography of the buildings and their history.