An Astonishing Visit to St. Isaac’s Cathedral

The next stop on our whirlwind tour of St. Petersburg was St. Isaac’s Cathedral. I had never heard of this place before. So when our bus pulled up here, I had no idea what to expect. I quickly found out the cathedral had something in store for us; something astonishing.

Originally built as a cathedral dedicated to St. Isaac of Dalmatia, St. Isaac’s Cathedral (Isaakievsky Sobor) is part of the Orthodox Church. Little did I know, this mid-nineteenth-century basilica was about to blow my mind, while at the same time giving me a first-class education in Russian art and architecture.

During Soviet times, in a huge slap in the face bit of irony, all religious decoration and ornamentation in the church was stripped and relocated off site. The church was then turned into the Museum of the History of Religion and Atheism.

These days, worship is again permitted, but only in reserved sections such as the chapels. Services are held in the main part of the cathedral during major religious holidays such as feast days.

The version of the church we see today is actually the fourth iteration of St. Isaac’s Church, and is by far the most magnificent. (Two display cases inside the cathedral show models of all four versions.) It was designed by French-born architect Auguste Ricard de Montferrand, who was 32 years old at the time the first plans were submitted. De Montferrand also designed the Alexander Column (Aleksandrovskaia Kolonna), which we would see later at the State Hermitage Museum.

Construction on the cathedral began in 1818 and took 40 years to complete: 24 years for the main construction of the building, the remaining 16 to decorate and furnish the interior. It was finally dedicated in 1858. The Finnish expression, “rakentaa kuin Iisakin kirkkoa” (to build like St. Isaac’s Church), grew out of this because construction took so long. Sadly, de Montferrand died just one month after his magnum opus was finished.

St. Isaac’s Cathedral — by the numbers

To say St. Isaac’s Cathedral is an architectural and engineering marvel would be an understatement. The basilica’s construction features 112 red granite columns, each 15 meters (49.2 feet) tall, which were quarried in and shipped from Finland. It is the fourth-largest domed cathedral and largest Orthodox cathedral in the world. By the way, those domes? They’re gilded. The large dome, called the great dome, features a large skylight, a dove sculpture symbolizing the Holy Spirit, and 12 windows with paintings of the Twelve Disciples underneath each.

Sixteen kinds of marble including malachite (the green stone) were used in the project. Marble floors cover the interior. Doors are wood overlaid with bronze, with high reliefs carved in and above them. I can’t even imagine how heavy those doors are. And how are they supported? What kind of engineering was employed to allow something this heavy to be moved by people power alone? (I’ll answer that in a second.)

Inside the cathedral is a bust of de Montferrand, fashioned from the same materials as those used in the cathedral, and a scale model replica of the wooden apparatus used to erect the granite columns. By the way, each wing of those doors weighs ten tons. They contain a special gearing in the walls to facilitate their movement. The gilded bronze doors leading to the altar weigh five tons.

Here’s another interesting fact: between the gold (over 400 kgs, including 100 kgs of gold for the main dome alone), 1,000 tons of other bronze, the columns (each weighing between 80 and 110 tons each), marble, gemstones, doors, and weight of the structure itself, the cathedral’s staggering, literally crushing weight would have caused the foundation to sink. So what the engineers did was drive more than 10,000 pilings into the (probably marshy) ground, added a base of crushed and compacted stone, then built on top of that.

It is estimated that the cathedral was built at a total cost of over 23 million rubles — more than six times the cost of the Winter Palace.

Inside the cathedral

When I said St. Isaac’s Cathedral had something astonishing in store for us, here’s what I meant: When we walked through those massive bronze doors, past the de Montferrand bust and scaffolding replica, we found ourselves inside the vast interior of the basilica. I was awestruck! I had never seen such brilliant, magnificent artwork on such a scale as this. That was quickly followed by a profound sense of reverence. It took several minutes before I could even utter a word to my wife.

Sculptures. Bas-reliefs. High reliefs. Mosaics. Frescoes. Murals. Cornices. Chandeliers. Bronze work. Column work. Marble work. Each individual item a masterpiece in and of itself. I could spend days, maybe weeks, admiring and studying every aspect of the cathedral, both inside and out, and I’d probably still miss a few things. (This became very true when I looked over the photographs I took inside the basilica, and noticed how many details I missed even though I was staring right at the objects in person.)

All of these items inside the cathedral display a craftsmanship that is long lost today. Seeing it up close, you can begin to understand why it took 16 years to complete.

Paintings on the walls and ceiling by renowned Russian painters honor the stories of the Old and New Testaments. After it was discovered that the cold and moisture-laden climate inside the cathedral was causing some of the painted works to deteriorate, they were ordered to be recreated — but as mosaics! Not all of them were able to be converted. But of the mosaics that were finished, some of them are so finely detailed and elaborate that they look just like the original paintings. You cannot tell they are mosaics until you get right up in front of them. We saw a few mosaics on easels throughout the church. I guess those are the ones that are still ‘in work’.

I haven’t even mentioned the sound quality. As you might guess, the acoustics inside the cathedral are simply superb! Even though the cathedral had a large number of visitors, you could talk at a normal speaking volume and still be heard. Imagine what a full choir might sound like in here. Or a small instrumental ensemble. Or a large one, for that matter.

You might notice there are no pews or chairs. That is because in an Orthodox church, prayer and worship are traditionally done standing up; there is no sitting unless you are infirm or elderly. If you attended church services here in St. Isaac’s early days, you might have found yourself standing alongside as many as 14,000 fellow worshipers!

One part of the cathedral that stood out to me was a pilaster and column near the iconostasis. I could write a whole post on the different elements used in the column. This was the first part of the basilica that pretty much beckoned me to look closer at its detail and workmanship. In one corner of the column was what looked to me like a wooden pulpit. Behind it was the pilaster/column. Not just any column. This one was massive in diameter and appears to be a supporting ‘leg’ of the great dome. The pilaster had gold bases, and gilded molding and statues at the top. You have to step back and crane your neck to see the painting above the ‘balcony’ (I’m not sure what that element of architecture is called). The whole pilaster and column were covered in several different kinds of marble from the floor almost to the ceiling. And it is a very high ceiling.

The outside of the cathedral is almost as impressive as the inside. Numerous sculptures and reliefs are found all over the building — roof, porticoes, doors, everywhere. Stairs lead up to an observation deck where you can see even more statues. The deck also offers a very good view out over the city. Unfortunately, due to restoration work going on on one of the smaller domes, we were not permitted to go up there.

Lift your head

There does not appear to be even one inch of bare wall or unadorned space in the entire cathedral. Every surface is covered by a mural, relief, fresco, gilding, gemstone, or marble. That includes the doors and floor. Even the spaces between where the arches intersect have murals painted in them.

If you were to stand back and take a wide-angle look, you’d probably notice that the walls are mostly marble and gemstone. They frame the mosaics. But then as you lift your head and your eyes move up toward the ceiling, you’ll see the murals, most, if not all, depicting biblical scenes and events. I think there is some symbolism in that aspect of the design. And it is employed throughout the basilica.

The iconostasis

As stunningly beautiful as each section of St. Isaac’s Cathedral is, my favorite element, if you will, has to be the iconostasis, or wall of icons. It is one of the most commanding parts of the church. The purpose of the iconostasis is to be a visual separation between the main section of the church (nave) and the inner sanctuary. It symbolizes the veil of the Temple of Jerusalem described in the Old Testament.

I felt an even deeper sense of reverence even before I got to the iconostasis. I think that was because to get there, you pass under the great dome I told you about in the “by the numbers” part of the post. The light shining through the glass, illuminating the dove and the paintings of the disciples, gave me a small prelude of what I was about to witness.

Striking emerald-green malachite marble columns on the iconostasis provide an eye-catching frame for the portraits and mosaics. The columns are topped with gold crowns. As you cast your eyes upward, you’ll see another gorgeous arch (called the Triumphal Arch) with four glided cherubs, supported by blue lapis lazuli and white marble columns, topped by a sculpture of Jesus and His disciples, with an inscription written in gold formal Russian lettering.

The level above that has more paintings of religious figures, and gilded sculptures bookending a central painting of The Last Supper. I had to tilt my head fully back to be able to see the upper level of the iconostasis. This blended into a mural on the ceiling. Apparently, there are guidelines that determine the positioning of the icons within the iconostasis and on which of the levels they appear.

Passing under the arch and beyond two giant, deeply engraved, gilded, and ornamented doors (called the Beautiful Doors or Holy Doors) leads you into the sanctuary, which I understand only the priest is allowed to enter. From what you can see from a worshiper’s point of view is an altar with gold accessories. The back wall is dominated by a towering stained-glass window — one of Russia’s largest — with an image of Jesus standing on what appear to be rocks at the edge of a lake. He seems to be looking out at a congregation that would be assembled in the cathedral.

The Theotokos

As we continued walking around, pretty much slack-jawed, we came upon a shrine dedicated to one single icon. It was placed at the base of the pilaster/column opposite the one I mentioned earlier. The icon is set in a frame of gold. The shrine which was built around it is fully gilded except for the marble altar and steps leading up to it. It looked like the Madonna and Child, but one unlike any other I had seen before. It is called the Theotokos, Greek for “God-Bearer”, or Dei Genitrix, Latin for “Mother of God”. Specifically, this one is named “The Wonderworking Tikhvin Icon of the Theotokos”. Both the Mother of God and Christ child portrayed in the icon have dark skin. There are countless claims of miraculous healing and protection attributed to the icon.

In Orthodox Christianity, the Theotokos of Tikhvin is one of the most highly regarded icons. Mystery shrouds its true history, but there are two main stories behind its origin. The first one states that the original was painted by St. Luke, himself. Yes, the same St. Luke from the Bible. The other says that in 1383, a fisherman was out on a lake near Tikhvin (hence the name), when the Theotokos appeared to rise above the lake in front of him. He captured the image on canvas when he got back to his home.

I stayed at the shrine for a couple of minutes, not knowing what to think. My mind had just been expanded — again. I was intrigued. As an African-American, l had never seen anything like it back home. I wondered, “Is this the only one? Are there more?” The answer came when I conducted some research afterward: Yes, there other Black Madonnas.

Having had a few moments to process everything I just witnessed inside the cathedral slowly brought me out of my state of near disbelief. I reflected on the design, the form, how the lines of the interior flow, the arches, the use of murals and frescoes painted on the ceilings and walls instead of just hanging paintings on them, the vibrant colors used not just in the paintings, but employed in the stone and marble work… I was thoroughly impressed.

Opulent. Grandeur. Massive. Excess. Majestic. Vast. Impressive. Decadent. Ostentatious. Over-the-top. Spell-binding. Splendorous. Regal. Luxurious. Breath-taking. Lavish. All words that can be used to describe St. Isaac’s Cathedral. But I doubt even these are enough.

St. Isaac’s Square

The space outside St. Isaac’s Cathedral is called St. Isaac’s Square (Isaakievskaya Ploshchad). Our guide, Natasha, had warned us about the tourist traffic and tour buses here, and cautioned us to be careful as we explored the area. She was right; it was getting more and more crowded seemingly by the minute.

In front of the cathedral is a grassy plaza. The plaza is flanked by government buildings, apartments, and hotels, including the famous Hotel Astoria and Angleterre Hotel. I noticed a large building at the south end of the square, about two blocks away, and decided to make my way through the traffic to check it out.

Mariinsky Palace

That building is the Mariinskiy Palace (Mariinskiy Dvorets), also called the Marie Palace. Mariinsky Palace (not to be confused with Mariinskyi Palace in Ukraine) used to be an imperial residence. It was ordered constructed by Nicholas I as a wedding gift to his eldest daughter, Grand Duchess Maria Nikolaievna. Imperial Russia came to an end after the revolution of 1917. The former palace is now home to the Legislative Assembly of Saint Petersburg.

Monument to Nicholas I

In the center of the square is the Monument to Nicholas I. He was emperor of Russia during most of the time St. Isaac’s Cathedral was being constructed. Apparently, he was a micromanager, a trait that supposedly caused huge problems near the end of his reign.

Here is yet another example of our friend, architect Auguste de Montferrand’s work. The monument features a bronze equestrian statue having only two points of support: the rear hooves of the horse. Very technologically advanced for the time. The oval-shaped pedestal has a lot going on: The white Italian marble upper part has four female statues – referred to as allegorical figures – sitting on what would be the ‘corners’ of the oval; several fixtures and ornaments, including the double-headed eagle, embellish the upper part of the pedestal in between the four females; four reliefs are set into the lower part of the red granite pedestal. (I noticed red granite seems be one of de Montferrand’s favorite mediums.) Protection is provided by a bronze fence encircling the monument. The ground-breaking tribute to Nicholas I would prove to be de Monferrand’s last project.

I walked around photographing it from many angles, but small, drifting grey clouds either blocked the sun, creating a very dark shadow over the monument, or revealed the sun, creating a very harsh, bright backlight. My camera just could not overcome the drastic difference in lighting. So I walked over to Hotel Astoria and took some photos of traffic on the intersecting streets in front of the hotel. And, just to get some perspective, some photos of the growing crowd of people and buses at the square.

Hoping to get some decent photos now that some of the clouds had moved on (more came), I went back to the Nicholas I monument. I did not know that when we were in front of the Mariinsky Palace that we were standing on a bridge. I thought the Moyka River, which I did stand at a railing and observe, had flowed out from an underground canal. Turns out the Blue Bridge (Siniy Most), as it is known, is the widest bridge in St. Petersburg. Probably the reason why I did not see the other side of it, or the other side of the river. It is also alleged to be the widest bridge in the world, but that claim has not been validated by any official world body.

By the time we boarded the bus again, the area resembled a traffic jam. A couple dozen tour buses and just as many cars were loading and unloading tourists, or just trying to drive through on their way to their destination. (Normally, I’d suggest arriving early to avoid the crowds, but weather and time of year are also factors at the cathedral. We arrived during an unseasonably warm week; it seemed the entire city of St. Petersburg was out taking advantage of the wonderful weather.)

Visiting St. Isaac’s Cathedral was absolutely an astonishing experience. Learning a tremendous amount about Russian art and architecture in a place I’d never even heard of before was most definitely a surprising bonus. But one thing really hit me hard after leaving the cathedral: Apparently no expense was spared in the construction and furnishing of the cathedral. The amount of gold used, the time and materials it took to build, the artwork… How much did Russians value their Christianity, revere important biblical figures, and honor other icons of Christianity and their own heroes of Russian history (link opens a PDF file) to build such a magnificent edifice as this? The other question I have is one that I keep trying to dismiss but it is one that won’t go away: How much of this was a show of opulence and power?

(Originally published 15 and 24 September 2020. Updated 30 May 2025.)

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