1. Owen Phelps
AH181
Foster
29/9/14
San Giovanni in Laterano
The arch-basilica of Saint John Lateran is distinct from other holy sites among Rome in
several ways. Firstly, the church was built by the Emperor Constantine I in 324 AD, after issuing
the Edict of Toleration (or, Edict of Milan) which legalized the practice of Christianity without
the threat of persecution in 313 AD, making it one of the oldest churches in Rome. Secondly, the
church was one of the first state-sanctioned churches of Rome, which accounts for its imposing
size, which is not lost despite the numerous renovations over the centuries. Thirdly, this
building was very different to what the Romans traditionally used to practice their piety to the
gods, as the Church was built in mind that Christians used the interior of buildings to pray in
rather than outdoor altars, which were common among Polytheist temples that used ritual
sacrifice.
Due to the fact that it was the first “official” church of Rome (and the seat of the Bishop
of Rome), it is unsurprising that very much of the structure is centered around wasted space to
invoke a sense of grandeur, and power to the converts and would-be converts alike. Even
before, when the Church was in its original, and much more humble state, the use of wasted
space would have helped instill a sense of humility among the people entering the building,
thus making it easier for them to believe that they were in the presence of something larger than
themselves – both spiritually, and literally.
Such a feeling of divine power is already channeled even before one enters the church;
the height of the porch, and the structure of the 18th century neoclassical facade, is deliberately

2. imposing as though to confirm that this building is intended for a higher being, much larger
than any mere human. However, there is a bridge between both the divine and the mortal
world with the placement of the handle on the church doors (which were recycled from the old
Curia – the Senate House) located in the portico, which is built to human scale. As such, the size
of the doors were built in mind for God, though humans are permitted to enter. It provides for
an interesting contrast, which perhaps helps the faithful to believe that they, too, are within the
presence of God.
The central knave of the church is flanked by fluted Corinthian columns (a favourite
order of imperial structures during the Roman Empire), which have been worked into the
structure of the church itself. Below lies twelve niches which house Late-Baroque period
sculptures of the twelve apostles. Even with those with a modest knowledge of art periods
would recognize the tell-tale traits of Baroque sculpture: each of these animated figures is
situated in an overly dramatic pose, with folds of billowing clothes, and easily-read expressions
that were built in mind to effortlessly convey an emotional response of wonder, and excitement.
In some ways, the apostles situated here hark back to the various “Great Men” of the Forum of
Augustus, which were placed around the Temple of Mars Ultor. While those great men were
designed to link Augustus into the mythological founders of Rome, so was the intention with
the use of these dramatic apostles: to connect the Church with the followers of Christ. In usual
fashion, Saint Peter and Paul (the two apostles who were crucified in Rome, and to which the
Pope draws his legitimacy from) are nearest to the apse. Even the materials used (the stark
coloured marble) hints at the Church’s classical past, and Rome’s golden age.
Besides the residual Classical elements, and the Baroque additions, one of the most
prominent features of the church is the ceiling. The current ceiling was built around the 16th
century, and was intentionally decorated in such a manner to invoke the glory of the work of

3. God. Keep in mind that the average peasantwould already be overwhelmed when upon
entering the vast church, but staring into a ceiling that was richly ornamented with reds, blues
and golds would appear to them as though they were staring into the heavens themselves. Such
a tactic has proven to be effective: the ceiling appears to be one of the few places that has
remained untouched by later period renovations (space and splendor appear to be the doctrine
of which this church was built upon). Beside the knave lie two aisles where those not yet fully
accepted into the church could observe Mass. Slotted among these aisles are numerous chapels
that are dedicated to other saints, and holy figures. These chapels appear to have been built (or
at least, renovated) in the Baroque periods, which accounts for their more intricate decor, and
vivid sculptures.
In the centre of the church, beyond the knave but just before the apse, lies the Papal
altar, which – like the ceiling – was built in a manner to amaze the senses, and excite the spirit
with its rich colouring, and intricate design. In sharp contrast from the Pagan altars which were
left outside the temples for the use of sacrifice, the altar within Christianity is left indoors, as
evidence of its more sombre methods of praying. However, that doesn’t mean that such a piece
is not consciously used to invoke a sense of awe, and wonder.
The design of the altar is very unlike the rest of the neoclassical-baroque nature of the
interior. Aside from the fact that the top of the altar is suspended upon four columns, the main
architectural style appears to be Gothic, which gives a clue about its age. Interestingly enough,
each of the four columns that hold the top of the altar aloft, have a capital of altering order: one
of which is Ionic, the other Doric, along with two Corinthians – though similar, are not the
same. This is perhaps evidence of the use of Spoila by the Papacy from other abandoned, or
unused structures from Rome’s Imperial period. The altar’s height is brilliantly design for two
reasons: first, it towers over the churchgoers, which invokes the grandeur of not only God, but

4. the wealth and the might of the Church. It very much is a showpiece that demonstrates how
much wealth, and powerthat the Catholic Church possesses if it is able to build such
domineering structures. Secondly, the altar itself effortlessly draws the eye to the various
paintings and frescoes of great figures within Church history, such as Charlemagne, and
Constantine the Great, which are cluttered around the transepts and the lavishing gothic organ.
Constantine holds a special place within the Catholic Church, as he was the Emperor that began
the Church’s triumph over Paganism. With the use of Constantine’s image, the is not only
Church invoking the power of God, while associating itself with the deeds of the Apostles, but
also linking itself with the might and majesty of Imperial Rome – the Empire that held most of
Europe and the Near East under its command. Same with the use of Charlemagne holding the
scepter, who was crowned Emperor of the Romans almost three centuries after the city of Rome
fell to the Goths. In a very thinly veiled hint, the Papacy is crowning itself as the successors (or
at least keepers) to the memory of Rome: an honour that so many European nations attempted
to claim for themselves.
Past the altar lies the Apse, where the Cathedra of the Bishop of Rome is housed right
underneath. The apse is decorated in a mosaic of Christ’s head, flocked with a cloud of Angels.
Below him stand various figures, one of which being the Virgin Mary. The style of the mosaic is
very traditionally minded, and appears to be more Byzantine (Eastern Roman) in style. Perhaps
this motif is designed to provide a link with Early Christian art, which was the fashion during
the later ages of the Empire, and the early periods of the Medieval Age. What is very interesting
is how each of these figures are dressed: each of them appear to be in very decorative, Roman
looking clothing, which provides another reminiscence to the Roman Empire. Indeed, they
appear to be dressed like noblemen, or even Senators, rather than Jewish peasants. Even below
the apse, the Cathedra of which the Pope sits, appears to be fashioned in a style that harks back

5. to the Roman period. Its construction and style appear to be from traditional Roman materials:
lunar marble, fixed with red and green granite, and clean edges. Even its detailed surroundings
appear to be more akin to where an Emperor might sit, rather than a Christian priest: the
patterned tiles and Corinthian columns flanking the throne provide for a stately looking view of
the head of the Catholic Church.
The final – and often overlooked piece – of architecture: the floor. While so many
disregard where they stand in order to pay proper attention to the rest of the basilica, the
styling of the floor was also made to complement the overall design of the church. The patterns
of the floor – along with the coloring and the materials used – are self-consciously styled upon
imperial Roman motifs (other such patterns can be seen within older structures such as the
Pantheon) which were deliberately styled to connect the Papacy to the memory of Rome. After
all, the Papacy’s head – the Supreme Pontiff – was a Roman institution long before it became
associated with Christianity, so the link between the Church and the Empire must have helped
bolster the prestige of the Pontifex Maximus. As such, not only are the walls, and sculptures
where one looks, are Roman, but where one stands as well.
Church architecture is very interesting: on the one hand, the original church looked
nothing like what occupies its space now: it used no traditional Roman elements, and did not
include sculptures, out of their association with Paganism. The wasted space within the old
basilica must have been the only demonstration of God’s presence, which must have been the
explanation as to why the basilica was built so large, yet left so bare. However, the Archbasilica
now appears as though it was built by the Romans themselves, which is exactly what the
Papacy would want to communicate. The church’s lavishing decoration, Roman materials,
Neoclassical motifs and sculptures, along with warm coloring, all play into perpetuating a

6. threefold image of power to all those that enter: that of Rome, that of the Church, and that of
God.