The Greatest Building of All Time

A recent Guardian newspaper bit of puff asked columnists to write about the most formative cultural event they saw in the field they write about. So the pop critic picked seeing the Pixies in 1988, Adrian Searle chose an exhibition of Goya and Billington wrote about a performance of Pinter's No Man's Land.

So what would I pick, as an architectural historian?

There are a few great buildings I can think of visiting while a teenager, some overwhelming experiences and moments of inspiration, Durham Cathedral, the Houses of Parliament, St Peter's in Rome, and so on. But the moment at which my love of architecture first stirred properly was in the National Theatre in London when my Dad pointed out to me how the concrete had been cast in wooden moulds leaving an imprint of their grain which then decorated the walls. I found the idea fascinating and weird. These clear cut lines and curves, otherwise overwhelmingly a man-made creation but with a texture and softness from nature. The sober grey of the concrete suddenly become much less alien from the quiet browns of timber. I felt I could almost imagine the decisions being taken at the architects' meetings; for the first time I truly appreciated the level of detail and depth that architectural design could take.

Falling away

The Sunday before last I didn't go to church. Not an unusual event particularly - I miss one or two every now and then when I'm out of town or busy or ill or whatever, and I had been every Sunday for many weeks previously and went again the next week.

But this was the first Sunday I missed when I could have gone, when I failed to attend for no reason at all. It wasn't an active decision just a lethargy, an unwillingness that sapped my self discipline and my energy. Of course, waking up and getting out of bed on a Sunday morning never comes easily but this time it was even worse than usual.

So why did it happen? Sadly I can think of one reason, that a few days earlier I had had some good news, winning a competitive scholarship, and, flushed with my own achievement, success and self reliance, I simply didn't see space for religion in my life. I was thankful, grateful and still intellectually curious about church but empty of that appreciation for God which should be part and parcel of our daily life.

Today I read an interview with actor Tom Hollander (who plays a vicar in a BBC sitcom called 'Rev') who said he was surprised at how many vicars go through agnostic periods, that theirs is a true 'relationship' with God. I feel a bit ashamed of how I felt last weekend but I also know that it comes as part of trying to live religiously and failing.