News + Insights

Historic church vital part of city’s past, should remain in its future

June 23, 2024

By Brent Bellamy, Associate + Creative Director 
Originally published in the Winnipeg Free Press

On what was described as a “calm and beautiful afternoon” in mid-August of 1883, the people of Winnipeg stopped to celebrate the laying of a cornerstone for a building that was to be unlike anything ever seen in the Canadian west. The event was so important that a full transcript of the ceremony was published in the next day’s newspaper.

Only 11 months later, Holy Trinity Anglican Church would open its doors at what was then the edge of the open prairie on a dusty gravel corner at Graham Avenue and Donald Street.

The building would rival the religious edifices of the great centres in the east. The Manitoba Free Press proclaimed it to be “as fine a specimen of pure gothic architecture as is to be found on this continent … an ornament to the city.”

The interior of Holy Trinity Anglican Church.

It’s a statement that holds true today.

Holy Trinity’s design came as the result of Winnipeg’s first international architecture competition. With 20 submissions received, the $300 first prize was awarded to Charles Wheeler, a prominent local architect who had arrived in the city the year before. The striking 142-year-old charcoal drawing that won him the competition still hangs in a quiet back hallway in the church.

Wheeler’s design created a graceful exterior form sculpted in local Tyndall limestone, punctuated by gothic buttresses, finials and gables, a beautiful wrapping that only hints at the richly ornamented interior that is held within. The building’s most spectacular feature is a rare and magnificent example of a double hammerbeam roof, an elegant structural system of curving supports and arched trusses that was seen as the pinnacle of English gothic timber design, with the Palace of Westminster at the British Houses of Parliament being one of the earliest and most famous examples.

The last sentence in that Manitoba Free Press column describing Holy Trinity’s design went on to say “the building is massive in character and calculated to last for centuries.”

That’s a statement that doesn’t hold true today. The foundations of Holy Trinity Anglican Church are crumbling and without costly repairs, it will be lost.

It’s difficult to quantify the value that a structure like Holy Trinity brings to a city, and what would be lost in its demolition. This is not just an old building; it’s one of the finest buildings ever constructed in our city’s 150-year history. There are few places of such beauty and craftsmanship from any era, to be found anywhere else in our community.

Beautiful buildings make beautiful cities, and beautiful cities inspire us, elevate our spirit, are a source of collective pride, define a community’s image, and attract people to live and visit. Experiencing beautiful architecture can create the same uplifting emotional response as experiencing other art forms, like painting, music or literature, but architecture is an art that is accessible to everyone, every day, as it forms the stage set for our lives.

We all want to live in a beautiful city. The artistry and craftsmanship that built Holy Trinity have been lost to time and modernization, and preserving this kind of irreplaceable beauty would be far more effective than hoping to find it in new development.

The power in preserving historic buildings like Holy Trinity is the creation of a sense in the present that we are connected to a larger continuum of time.

The stories and experiences of past eras are imbued in the walls of historic buildings, read through the cracks and splinters that quietly hint at the wisdom held within. When we connect to the spirit of people who have come before us through the buildings they created and passed down to us, it helps us understand ourselves, and creates a stronger sense of community in the present.

The interior of Holy Trinity Anglican Church.

When Holy Trinity was built, our city was less than 10 years away from being an isolated outpost of 1,800 people living in wooden shacks. To move so quickly from that to constructing an edifice so grand that it was hailed as one of the great architectural achievements in the country is a testament to their ambition and belief that their city deserved its place among the greatest in the country.

The building’s presence today stands as a symbol of what Winnipeg can achieve, connecting us to these people and their powerful sense of belief in themselves and their community. When these living symbols are lost, the strength of that connection is severed.

We learn from old buildings. They tell us how people lived, their values, their priorities, and their beliefs. When learning about the past, we learn about ourselves. The stories that historic buildings tell often become part of a community’s collective sense of identity.

Even if one has no personal connection to a place like Holy Trinity, it’s part of our shared history and part of the mosaic that creates our civic identity. The presence of historic buildings in our cities allows us to acknowledge the sometimes difficult history that informs who we are. The buildings can be a benchmark in our evolving identity. Consideration of the role of the church in our society as an example, can be informed by the stories the old buildings tell us.

Great cities protect their great buildings. The small, inner-city congregation of Holy Trinity Anglican Church has inherited a building with immense community value, without the resources to maintain it for the community. The spirit of our city lives within those thick limestone walls, informing our collective sense of place, history, identity and belonging, and creating a moment of beauty in a neighbourhood, a city, and a world that desperately needs it.