Hallowed halls

RUSH:From a dramatic library conversion in Rush to homes in Kilkenny, churches are being transformed in myriad ways for secular uses, writes GEMMA TIPTON

SURROUNDED BY market gardens, Rush is something of a well-kept secret. North of Malahide, it has a seaside village feel, even if most of it seems to ignore the stunning coastline and views of Lambay island. Perhaps this is because of the pull the now-demolished Kenure House once held over the place (only the portico remains), or perhaps former generations didn’t romanticise the sea in the way that we do.

Anyway, the centre of Rush, with its village green (now a car park), 13th-century tower, theatre and church, is further inland. The old church takes prime position, and it is now one of the most beautiful libraries in Ireland. A newer church stands behind.

The conversion was carried out by McCullough Mulvin architects, and even though it was concluded last year, it only recently opened to the public – having fallen foul of public-service recruitment embargoes. Those hiccups can be forgotten, as the architects have created a truly amazing space for locals and visitors to drink in, use and enjoy. “I love the condition of Rush,” says Niall McCullough as we stand on an upper balcony in the building, watching light play across the nave. “I love the edges, all this work is about edges, edges between this and that and that. What a great place to build. If you live in Ireland, being next to the sea is going to be great anyway. So to put a library in a disused church by the sea – wow. How great can that be?”

Interesting, thoughtful, and also great company, McCullough’s enthusiasm is infectious. The building is freestanding, so changing patterns of light and weather move right around it. “We have this love affair with the weather, we talk about it all the time. We claim to suffer from it, but it’s extraordinary.” Before the architects could work on creating and inserting the walnut structure that draws attention to the beauty of the building, rather than obscuring it, they embarked on a major project to bring it back to life. “You have to restore it before you intervene, but the point is you also have to let the building’s history tell its story.”

In many ways, the story of the church is continuing. It’s still a community space, and a place for meeting. We move outside, and, as if to illustrate this, a mother, with two small children, waving books in their hands arrive. “To make it work, you needed to make a change to the building. When you make something in it, it doesn’t cease to be a church. There are aspects that are valuable and part of the history, and you’re not trying to eradicate that. A church that becomes a library is not just a library. The church itself was changed and adapted over time, and I love the idea that it could change again.”

The building is not terribly large, and from the outside, despite the landscaping and planting (there are drills of vegetables and lavender to reflect the story of Rush), it could be just another ordinary church. But inside you can experience moments of beauty and wonder. “A lot of that is about making ordinary things,” says McCullough. “Or rather things that are almost ordinary, but have some form of concentrated energy that transforms them. You could make a tour de force, but the majority of work shouldn’t be like that. It should be just a slight adjustment of the ordinary – to discover the extraordinary.”

McCullough Mulvin are a husband and wife practice (a pairing not uncommon in architecture) who have also created libraries at Trinity College Dublin and in Sligo and Waterford. McCullough talks of childhood memories of a church in Rathmines where he grew up, but also of the Carnegie Library there – “a big part of my life when I was a kid”.

At Rush, they turned to the idea of reading for inspiration. “It goes back to someone reading a book and looking up . . . it’s that moment when you’ve read something you like, and you look up to enjoy the moment, you look at a high space, or light falling on a wall, or to a window, and that’s your moment. In a library, you’re designing for that moment.”

If McCullough is excited about the possibilities of Rush, so too should we be excited about fulfilling (and protecting) the potential of libraries. He tells me about meeting schoolchildren at Rush, and their teacher asking them about their expectations of the building. He was shocked to discover many thought you would have to pay in. But despite moments like these, he remains an optimist. “You wouldn’t do this job if you weren’t. That’s why you do buildings, because you think, somebody could have a great life here.”

Rush Library was shortlisted for the World Architecture Festival. It won an Opus Architecture Award and an Irish Architecture Award 2010. For opening hours, see fingalcoco.ie, 01-8708414. See also mcculloughmulvin.com