The Modern Chapel of the Wounded Jesus in Zagreb: An Architecture of Silence in the Heart of the City

 

La moderna capilla de Jesús Herido en Zagreb. Una arquitectura del silencio en el corazón de la ciudad

 

Zorana Sokol-Gojnik · University of Zagreb (Croatia) · zorana.sokol@arhitekt.hr · https://orcid.org/0000-0002-2148-2243

Igor Gojnik · Independent Scholar, Zagreb (Croatia) · igor.gojnik@siloueta.hr · https://orcid.org/0000-0002-5338-6539

 

Recibido: 02/12/2025

Aceptado: 23/12/2025

 

Abstract

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ in Zagreb, designed by Antun Urlich in 1936, represents a rare example of modernist sacred architecture integrated within the city’s historic core. Conceived as an architecture of silence, the chapel transforms light, proportion, and material into carriers of spiritual meaning. Embedded in the Foundation Building on Ban Jelacic Square, it contrasts the noise of urban life with an inner atmosphere of contemplation. The research interprets the chapel as both architectural and theological innovation, linking Croatian modernism with wider European movements that sought new expressions of the sacred through simplicity and clarity. Urlich’s minimal composition —stone, glass, and light— creates a space where modern rationalism meets transcendence. The chapel stands as a lasting dialogue between faith and modernity, proving that silence and light can become the true language of sacred architecture within the heart of the modern city.

Keywords

Antun Urlich, Croatia, Modern Architecture, Sacred Architecture, Zagreb.

Resumen

La capilla del Cristo Herido de Zagreb, diseñada por Antun Urlich en 1936, representa un ejemplo excepcional de arquitectura sacra moderna integrada en el centro histórico de la ciudad. Concebida como una arquitectura del silencio, la capilla transforma la luz, la proporción y la materia en portadores de significado espiritual. Integrada en el Foundation Building, en la plaza Ban Jelacic, contrasta el bullicio de la vida urbana con una atmósfera interior de contemplación. La investigación interpreta la capilla como una innovación tanto arquitectónica como teológica, vinculando la modernidad croata con movimientos europeos más amplios que buscaban nuevas expresiones de lo sagrado a través de la simplicidad y la claridad. La composición minimalista de Urlich (piedra, vidrio y luz) crea un espacio donde el racionalismo moderno se encuentra con la trascendencia. La capilla se erige como un diálogo duradero entre la fe y la modernidad, demostrando que el silencio y la luz pueden convertirse en el verdadero lenguaje de la arquitectura sacra en el corazón de la ciudad moderna.

Palabras clave

Antun Urlich, arquitectura moderna, arquitectura sacra, Croacia, Zagreb.

 

Introduction

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ in Zagreb is a unique example of modernist sacred architecture, located in the historic centre of the city. Situated at Ilica 1, on the ground floor of the Foundation Building next to Ban Jelacic Square, it is simultaneously present and hidden. It forms part of the everyday rhythm of urban life, yet remains a space of silence and contemplation.

The main aim of this paper is to explore the architectural, spiritual, and urban identity of the modern Chapel of the Wounded Christ, with particular emphasis on the concept of silence, which in this chapel acquires a spatial and symbolic dimension. The chapel is considered not merely as a building, but as a spiritual phenomenon within the fabric of the modern city, where silence —contrasting the external noise— becomes an architectural principle, and space itself a symbol of divine presence.

The research is based on the analysis of archival documents, [1] a review of existing literature on the chapel, visual and spatial analysis of the site itself, and a comparative study with other modernist sacred buildings in Croatia and Central Europe from the 1930s (Fernández-Cobián 2007). Professional literature in the fields of architectural history, the liturgical movement, and the theology of space provides the framework within which the Chapel of the Wounded Christ is placed in the broader context of European modernism.

Continuity of the Site

The origins of the chapel date back to 1749, when the first chapel dedicated to the Suffering Christ (Trpeci Isus) was built beside the Manduševac spring, with the permission of Bishop Franjo Klobusic. Due to urban redevelopment and the construction of the Foundation Hospital, the chapel was demolished in 1794, and a new one was erected within the hospital complex that same year. Throughout the 19th century, the chapel and hospital became inseparable parts of the city’s identity, a meeting place of civic care and spiritual devotion (Fig. 01).

 

Fig. 01. The first Chapel of the Suffering Christ on Ban Jelacic Square, Zagreb (Croatia), 1749; demolished in 1794.

In 1803, Bishop Maksimilijan Vrhovec entrusted the administration of the hospital and chapel to the Order of the Brothers Hospitallers (Šegvic 1938). After the Order left in 1918, the hospital was taken over by the City of Zagreb, but the complex soon became inadequate for modern medical needs. Consequently, it was decided to demolish the old hospital and build a new Foundation Block, a mixed residential and commercial complex.

Through the initiative of the chapel rector, Kerubin Šegvic, and the Foundation Board, it was decided that a modern Chapel of the Suffering Christ would be incorporated into the new building. Authors of residential building with the chapel were Antun Urlich, Franjo Bahovec and Ivo Juranovic. According to archival records, in 1934 architect Antun Urlich undertook the design of the new chapel. [2] The chapel was consecrated on August 16, 1936, by decree of the Archiepiscopal Spiritual Court, thus continuing the spiritual lineage from 1749 into the modern era. The reconstruction of the chapel within the new structure represented both an architectural reinterpretation and a theological affirmation, a transformation of baroque devotion into a modernist architecture of silence.

The chapel, although situated in the very heart of the city’s bustle, functions as an inner counterpart to the external world. While traffic, commerce, and daily noise flow outside its walls, within reigns a silence of light and sound. This silence is not an absence, but a place of Presence, a space of contemplation and meditation leading to an encounter with God (Fig. 02).

 

Fig. 02. Antun Urlich, Chapel of the Wounded Jesus, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; entrance facade to the chapel.

Architect Urlich did not design a monumental sanctuary, but rather an urban interior of spirituality, an architecture that speaks the language of proportion, measure, and light. In this sense, the Chapel of the Wounded Christ becomes a metaphor of the modern city, a space that distills meaning from the surrounding noise. It reflects what Vesna Mikic (2002) calls the «classicism of modernity», a quiet discipline of form that transforms material into a space of spirit.

Zagreb in the 1930s: The City and the Rhythm of Modernism

During the 1930s, Zagreb underwent a period of intense modernization (Premerl 1990). The city center, shaped in the 19th century within the spirit of historicism, experienced a redefinition of its functions, façades, and spatial relations.

The 1930s represent one of the most significant phases in the formation of modern Zagreb. After the First World War, the city expanded rapidly: its population grew, industry developed, and central urban areas demanded new spatial solutions. The traditional urban matrix, dominated by monumental historicist buildings of the late 19th century, increasingly failed to meet the functional requirements of modern life. Within this context, modernism emerged as an architectural and urban movement that found strong resonance in Zagreb (Radovic Mahecic 2007).

A central role in shaping interwar Zagreb was played by the so-called Zagreb School of Modern Architecture, a group of architects associated with Professor Drago Ibler and the artistic collective Zemlja (Earth). Among its leading members were Stjepan Planic, Drago Ibler, Drago Galic, Zlatko Neumann, Mladen Kauzlaric, and others. Their work was characterized by faith in rationality, functionality, and the social responsibility of architecture. In contrast to Vienna Secession and late historicism, which had defined earlier decades, modern architecture sought liberation from ornament and form shaped according to the real needs of everyday life.

The interwar period (Laslo 1982 and 1987) laid the foundations of 20th-century Croatian architecture (Ivankovic 2016), during which Zagreb became a truly European city, with achievements comparable to those of Vienna, Prague, or Budapest. Modernism in Zagreb was both local and international: local in its sensitivity to the urban and social context, and international in its engagement with broader European currents.

One of the key urban issues of the time was the so-called problem of closed city blocks. While the city expanded eastward and southward, the 19th-century central districts remained burdened by large enclosed blocks with internal courtyards. These often housed inadequate auxiliary dwellings, lacking light, air, and permeability between streets (Ivancevic 1983).

Architects of the Zagreb School saw modernism as the solution to this problem. Instead of closed blocks, they proposed semi-open and permeable ensembles with arcades, inner courtyards, and green spaces—responding not only to functional needs but also to the social idea of the city as a place of openness and communication.

The most complete example of modernist urbanism in Zagreb became the Foundation Block (Zakladni blok), built between 1932 and 1937 on the site of the demolished Hospital of Brothers Hospitallers. On this site unfolded the drama of demolishing the old Hospital and its chapel and erecting a new modern complex (Bjažic Klarin 2010). Today, this ensemble is a protected cultural monument and one of the most significant examples of the International Style in Croatia (Fig. 03-04).

 

Fig. 03. The site of the demolished Hospital of the Brothers of Charity, Zagreb (Croatia), 1932.

 

Fig. 04. The location of the demolished hospital on a larger scale, 1932.

Following the Hospital’s demolition in 1931, the city authorities announced, in 1929-30, an open architectural competition for the parceling and design of this prestigious location. The aim was to develop a urbanistic regulatory plan defining the volume, height, and uniform appearance of the new block. The competition attracted the leading architects of the period, including Drago Ibler, Stjepan Planic, Josip Seissel, Josip Picman, Ernest Weissmann, and others.

The subsequent debates in professional journals and daily newspapers revealed a deep divide between conservative and modernist tendencies. Conservative critics mocked the proposals as bare cubes and architectural fashions, while modernists advocated for radical solutions — from megastructures spanning Ilica Street to a proposed 42-meter-high tower (Bjažic Klarin 2010).

Ultimately, a compromise solution was adopted: the regulatory plan from January 1930 combined elements from several competition entries. It prescribed the construction of a unified block comprising nine buildings and a tower, with strictly defined heights and façades to ensure visual coherence. Between 1932 and 1937, the Foundation Block was realized, bounded by Gajeva, Ilica, Petriceva, and Bogoviceva Streets. This complex of mixed-use buildings is regarded as the largest manifestation of the International Style in Zagreb’s Lower Town (Donji grad).

The block was built according to the principles of modern urbanism: clearly defined volumes, rhythmic façades, glass shopfronts at street level, and rational organization of residential and commercial spaces. Although conceived as a unified whole, the final result was somewhat compromised: different investors and architects had to comply with the prescribed parameters, leading to a certain monotony, yet also to a coherent visual identity (Fig. 05).

 

Fig. 05. Antun Urlich, Franjo Bahovec and Ivo Juranovic, New building built on the site of a demolished hospital, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; on the far right.

Ban Jelacic Square thus became not only a traffic hub but also a symbolic center of the city, a place of daily encounters, commerce, and the representation of modern urban life.

In the context of modernization, there arose a need for continuity of the spiritual space that citizens had on that site since 1749, when the first Chapel of the Suffering Jesus was built. The new Chapel of the Wounded Jesus (the name changed from Suffering to Wounded) was realized within the Foundation Block, as part of a residential building designed by architects Antun Ulrich, Franjo Bahovec, and Ivo Juranovic. It was a response to this need, driven by the strong desire of the citizens to restore a space deeply woven into their spiritual life.

On the initiative of Rector Kerubin Šegvic and with the approval of the Archiepiscopal Spiritual Court, the new chapel was built in 1934. Its position as a sacred space within a public building constituted a rare typological case in Croatian interwar architecture. The chapel was conceived not as a hospital chapel, but as a public sacred space: a place inviting meditation, pause, and introspection, accessible to citizens, passers-by, and employees of the Foundation.

Located directly adjacent to the city’s busiest square, the chapel stands both at the heart of urban life and apart from it. The sounds of the city —footsteps, trams, voices— are subdued within its walls, creating a sense of spatial isolation without physical distance. The chapel is entered directly from the street, yet it is embedded within the structure of the block in such a way that its zenithal opening brings natural light into the interior, animating the architecture and giving it a spiritual dimension. Thus, the Chapel of the Wounded Christ becomes an oasis of silence, light, and modernist architecture in the very heart of the city.

The Modern Chapel of the Wounded Christ: The Architecture of Silence

The chapel was built within a residential building designed by Antun Ulrich, Franjo Bahovec, and Ivo Juranovic, while the chapel itself was built according to the design of architect Antun Ulrich, one of the prominent figures of Croatian modernism in the interwar period. Ulrich belonged to the generation of architects who introduced new spatial concepts, rationalism, and a disciplined functional form to Zagreb, yet without renouncing the humanistic sensibility of space (Mikic 2002) (Fig. 06).

 

Fig. 06. The position of the Chapel of the Wounded Jesus on the site.

Urlich’s modernist architecture, rooted in the Viennese architectural school, is based on a disciplined, rational, and measured form derived from the classical principles of proportion, order, and balance. His architecture aspires to simplicity and constructive clarity. Instead of ornament, the main bearers of expression are material and light; space is shaped as experience rather than decoration (Fig. 07-08).

 

Fig. 07. Antun Urlich, Chapel of the Wounded Jesus, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; he entrance facade (photo from the time of construction).

 

Fig. 08. The entrance façade today.

In this chapel, too, Urlich does not design a monumental church but rather a quiet sanctuary within an urban building, following modernist principles of function and restraint. On the façade, within the clean modernist grid of the Foundation Building, a delicate white stone frame defines the boundary of the sacred space. This frame is not decorative but precisely marks the threshold between the sacred and the profane. The structural constraint of the building —the two load-bearing columns— becomes a compositional motif of the façade.

In contrast to the white frame, Urlich renders them in black, creating a strong visual rhythm and counterpoint that leads the observer into the interior. Together, the white frame and the black columns form a forecourt: a vestibule of silence, a transitional zone between the noise of the city and the stillness of devotion.

The entrance façade itself is constructed of glass brick, arranged in six vertical fields. In the center of the composition, between the two black columns, a white stone cross is affixed to the glass surface: a point of repose and a striking symbol of spiritual focus.

The entire composition —white frame, black columns, white cross, and glass panels— embodies Urlich’s modernist discipline: purity, proportion, order, and measure. In this geometry of silence, material and light replace ornament, and construction itself becomes a bearer of sacred meaning (Fig. 09).

 

Fig. 09. Antun Urlich, Chapel of the Wounded Jesus, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; plan.

The glass façade does not conceal but invites revelation of the interior. Glass, by its nature, connects rather than separates; here, it admits light into the space. The theme of light becomes the leitmotif of the architecture. Both the façade and the rear wall of the presbytery define the spatial experience. The plan of the chapel is trapezoidal, with two opposing glass walls through which light enters, transformed through stained, glassimparting to the interior a sacred atmosphere of peace and contemplation. The light of the chapel is soft, discreet, and non-dramatic; it does not illuminate but rather invites the discovery of divine Presence. In this way, glass and light become the primary bearers of the sacred ambiance and spiritual experience. The space is shaped as a materialization of silence, where the perception of sound and light turns into a meditative encounter.

Crossing the threshold into the chapel’s interior, the modernist principle continues with quiet consistency. Behind the entrance glows the gentle illumination of the stained glass window depicting Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. The image leads the visitor into the space dedicated to the Wounded Christ. On one side stands Gethsemane, on the other Golgotha together forming a theological unity of Christ’s suffering and redemption (Fig. 10-11).

 

Fig. 10. Antun Urlich, Chapel of the Wounded Jesus, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; view of the presbytery.

 

Fig. 11. View of the atrium.

Before the visitor unfolds a total, unified space, where only two columns —again structural necessities— create a subtle hierarchical distinction between the nave and the presbytery. The whiteness of the entrance vestibule continues across the ceiling into the darker interior, where the walls and floor are clad in dark marble. The focus of perception is drawn toward the rear wall of the presbytery, entirely filled with a stained-glass window depicting Christ on Golgotha.

The stained glass was the result of collaboration between architect Antun Urlich and painter Marijan Trepše, with the support of famous artist Jozo Kljakovic. [3] Into the monochromatic architectural palette, Trepše introduces a dramatic chromatic composition that gradually fades toward the edges, blending into the dark marble walls. At the luminous center stands the crucified Christ, beneath whose cross appear Mary-Mother of Christ, Mary Magdalene and Mary of Clopas. This scene, suffused with light and color, becomes an icon of transcendence, the focal point where architecture, light, and faith converge.

The presbytery space is elevated by only two steps above the nave. This slight elevation reflects the liturgical movements of the early 20th century (Sokol Gojnik 2017), which sought to affirm the communal dimension of the celebration of faith by reducing the historical height difference between the presbytery and the space of the congregation.

Archival documents mention the clergy’s dissatisfaction with this modest elevation and proposals to raise the altar further; however, these proposals were ultimately rejected. Photographic documentation from the time of the original arrangement has not been preserved, and the available drawings do not indicate the architectural solution of the presbytery. Nevertheless, archival sources mention an altar supported by columns, which was later adapted to the new liturgy introduced by the Second Vatican Council, with the mensa replaced by a smaller one. It is likely that the pre-conciliar altar (identical to the present one) was positioned adjacent to the stained-glass window (NDS 3528/1972).

With its minimalist design, the altar followed the formal stylistic vocabulary of the architectural composition. The white mensa rested on five elegant black columns. After the Second Vatican Council, the altar was moved closer to the nave, the mensa was reduced in size, and on the black column identified in archival documents as «the fifth altar column beneath the tabernacle», a freestanding tabernacle was placed (NDS 3318/1960 and 3528/1972) (Fig. 12). [4]

 

Fig. 12. Antun Urlich, Chapel of the Wounded Jesus, Zagreb (Croatia), 1934-36; detail of the presbytery.

The floor was executed in dark stone paving made of rasotica stone. Architect Ulrich ceased work on the project on May 2, 1936, and documentation indicate that the chapel remained unfinished. [5] The chapel was blessed on August 16, 1936.

Archival data indicate that the area of the congregation and the presbytery were originally separated by a stone communion rail, and that the chapel underwent several phases of refurbishment during the 20th century. In 1950, wooden pews and confessionals were installed, introducing a warm tactile contrast to the predominant materials of stone and glass (NDS 3528/1972).

In 1969, the statue of the Suffering Christ, preserved from earlier chapels, was placed in the nave on a modest pedestal. [6] The walls feature discreet Stations of the Cross.

The most recent major renovation of the chapel began in 2024 and is currently ongoing. The focus of the restoration is on providing an appropriate lighting solution and addressing technical and functional deficiencies of the chapel, while preserving all elements of the original design. The restoration is being carried out by architects Igor Gojnik and Zorana Sokol Gojnik.

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ in the European Context

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ in Zagreb, though spatially modest and discreetly situated on the ground floor of an urban building, raises questions that transcend its local setting. It belongs to the broader European modernist movement which, in the first half of the 20th century, sought a new expression of the sacred: one liberated from historical styles and material rhetoric (Premerl 1994). This search reflects a desire to express the sacred not through monumentality, but through spatial clarity, proportion, and light as the primary carriers of meaning. Thus, contemporary sacred space is defined through light, matter, emptiness and silence, not through figurative or decorative programs (Gonçalves 2017).

What Ulrich’s chapel shares with European modernism is the conviction that sacred architecture is not constructed through decoration or imagery, but through space itself. Across Europe, between the two World Wars, a similar conceptual tone emerged: architecture was understood less as a representation of Church doctrine through rich iconography, and more as a medium of experience, a space enabling contemplation, silence, and communion. Through this, the chapel becomes a space of mission, proclamation, encounter, communion and sacraments, and not just a liturgical object (Longhi 2013).

In this lies the European contemporaneity of Ulrich’s work: in the belief that the silence created by architecture can itself be a modernist category. Here, silence is not an absence, but a spatial condition, an architectural outcome of proportion and light. In this sense, the Chapel of the Wounded Christ resonates with the same spiritual horizon that gave rise to the churches of Schwarz, Böhm, Perret, and Michelucci, spaces in which the encounter with God is mediated through space itself.

The central idea of the modernist epoch is simplicity as an expression of depth. An architect does not just design a building, but a space of experience. Ulrich’s chapel exemplifies this principle: its structure is openly visible, detailing is reduced to a minimum, and everything not serving function or light is omitted. This reduction is not a negation, but a means of reaching faith through the honesty of structure, architecture, and form. The Chapel of the Wounded Christ also represents a rarity within the European typology: an embedded chapel situated within a secular urban block at the very heart of the city. Most modernist churches were constructed on the urban peripheries, within new residential developments seeking their own spiritual infrastructure. Ulrich’s space, by contrast, emerged within the densest and oldest fabric of the city: on the ground floor of a public Foundation Building, surrounded by shops, traffic, and the rhythm of everyday life. This location transforms the chapel into an urban experiment. Ulrich thereby realizes what might be described as a spiritual heart of the city, an experience born not from withdrawal from the world, but from encounter with it.

This idea of silence at the center of movement reverberates through European architecture of the later twentieth century. From Fisac to Zumthor (Delgado 2007, Vukoszávlyev 2013), numerous architects continued this line of thought, conceiving space as an atmosphere of divine presence. Ulrich’s chapel may thus be read as a precursor, an example anticipating the phenomenological understanding of space: architecture not as an object, but as an experience of light, touch, and proportion. Within its serene geometry and material simplicity, one perceives the idea that the deepest modernity is that which allows for silence.

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ is not merely a Croatian episode of modernism, but its quiet European echo. It is an example of how the modern spirit responded to the enduring question of creating a space for encounter with God.

Conclusion

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ in Zagreb synthesizes the fundamental tensions of the modern epoch: between tradition and innovation, between the rhythm of the city and inner contemplation, between the visible and the spiritual.

From the first chapel by Manduševac in 1749, through the Baroque sanctuary of the Hospital of Brothers Hospitallers, to Ulrich’s modern interpretation in 1936, the same theme has been continuously reiterated within the same urban locus: the city’s enduring need for a space of encounter with God. This continuous sacred presence within the changing urban fabric reveals the interdependence of spirituality and the city: as the city transforms, so too does the architectural expression of faith, yet the need for presence remains constant.

In Antun Ulrich’s modernist reinterpretation, the chapel becomes an architectural expression of this relationship: a sacred center embedded within a secular environment. Its spatial reduction, absence of ornament, and pronounced presence of light are not merely aesthetic decisions, but gestures arising from an attempt to comprehend the spiritual aspirations of the modern human being.

Ulrich thus aligns with the broader European modernist discourse that recognized in light the architectural key to the expressiveness of sacred space. The distinctiveness of the Zagreb chapel lies in its urban context. Situated in the very heart of the city, within the Foundation Building, it is not a secluded monastic enclosure but a sanctuary amid everyday life. This relationship to the city makes it one of the rare examples of modern architecture that does not seek distance from life, but its transformation.

In a wider European perspective, Ulrich’s work shares the intellectual premises of those architects who, in the first half of the twentieth century, redefined the notion of sacred space. As in the works of Schwarz, Böhm, or Perret, light here becomes the primary formal and symbolic element. Yet, unlike the monumental compositions of European churches, Ulrich creates a miniature of sacred space, an architecture of intimate encounter (Sokol Gojnik 2017).

The Chapel of the Wounded Christ thus represents an authentic Croatian contribution to European modernism (Sokol-Gojnik et al 2019), not as a derivative of greater models, but as an autonomous expression within the same intellectual horizon. At a time when the city was expanding outward, Ulrich created a space that turned inward: a space of light, proportion, and silence, where modern architecture attains its spiritual fullness.

Bibliography

Bjažic Klarin, Tamara. 2010. «Zakladni blok u Zagrebu: Urbanisticke i arhitektonske odlike». Prostor 2(40): 322–335.

Delgado Orusco, Eduardo. 2007. «Las iglesias de Miguel Fisac». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 1: 130-161. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2007.1.0.5021

Fernández-Cobián, Esteban. 2007. «Arquitectura religiosa contemporánea. El estado de la cuestión». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 1: 8–37. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2007.1.0.5016

Gonçalves, José Fernando. 2017. «Sacred Spaces. Meaning, Design, Construction». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 5: 220–229. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2017.5.0.5153

Ivancevic, Radovan. 1983. «Blok zakladne bolnice u Zagrebu – spomenik moderne arhitekture». Covjek i prostor 363(6): 30–34.

Ivankovic, Vedran. 2016. Le Corbusier i hrvatska škola arhitekture. Zagreb: Europapress holding (EPH).

Laslo, Aleksandar. 1982. «Zagreb, Arhitektonski vodic I». Covjek i prostor 354(9): 15–19.

Laslo, Aleksandar. 1987. «Zagrebacka arhitektura 30-tih. Vodic». Arhitektura 40(1-4): 97–112.

Longhi, Andrea. 2013. «Construir iglesias más allá de la arquitectura religiosa. Evangelización y arquitectura». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 3: 1–25. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2013.3.0.5078

Mikic, Vesna. 2002. Arhitekt Antun Ulrich – klasicnost moderne. Zagreb: Naklada Jurcic.

Premerl, Tomislav. 1990. Hrvatska moderna arhitektura izmedu dva rata: Nova tradicija. Zagreb: Matica Hrvatska.

Premerl, Tomislav. 1994. «Crkveno graditeljstvo dvadesetog stoljeca». In Sveti trag: devetsto godina umjetnosti Zagrebacke nadbiskupije: 1094-1994, catalog of exibition, edited by Tugomir Luksic, Muzej Mimara & Izlozba Sveti Trag, 156-169. Zagreb: MGC/Muzej Mimara.

Radovic-Mahecic. 2007. Moderna arhitektura u Hrvatskoj 1930-tih. Zagreb: Školska knjiga.

Sokol-Gojnik, Zorana. 2017. Sakralna arhitektura Zagreba u 20. stoljecu: Katolicke liturgijske gradevine. Zagreb: UPI-2M PLUS.

Sokol-Gojnik, Zorana, Igor Gojnik and Marija Banic. 2019. «Interventions in Heritage Sacred Architecture after the Second Vatican Council in Croatia». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 6: 114–129. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2019.6.0.6232

Šegvic, Kerubin. 1938. Kratka povijest crkve Ranjenog Isusa na Jelacicevom trgu: 1749-1919. Zagreb: Hrvatske Straže.

Vukoszávlyev, Zorán. 2013. «Obvious or Hidden. Evolution of Forms Used for Temporary or Permanent Small Sacral Spaces at the Turn of the Millennium». Actas de Arquitectura Religiosa Contemporánea 3: 64–71. https://doi.org/10.17979/aarc.2013.3.0.5086

Source of images

Fig. 01-05, 07-08, 10-12. Author’s archive.

Fig. 06. State Archives in Zagreb, Collection of Construction Plans, microfilm, Hospital 130.

Fig. 09. State Archives in Zagreb, Collection of Construction Plans, microfilm, Hospital 459.

Notes

[1] Documentation of the Hospital and the Church of the Wounded Jesus following archives: Nadbiskupijski arhiv, Nadbiskupski duhovni stol (NDS), Zagreb; Državni arhiv u Zagrebu, Gradsko poglavarstvo, Zagreb. Graðevinski odjel, Bolnica, Ilica 1.

[2] Sabiranje milodara za kapelu Trpeæeg Isusa. Architect Antun Ulrich is mentioned as a member of the Construction committee (NDS 1591/1937).

[3] Archival documents mention the priests’ dissatisfaction with the height of the presbytery, and in 1950 it was suggested that the altar be raised, but that proposal was rejected (NDS 3528/1972).

[4] In archival documents it says: «The current altar in the church does not meet the needs of the liturgy. The mensa is too low, and the supporting block covers the lower part of the composition on the glass depicting the Crucifixion. The adaptation project proposes constructing a base that follows the ground plan of the altar and expands towards the nave as far as the distance between the steps allows. The existing mensa is supported by four round, turned columns of the same stone and a fifth, central column, which supports the mensa beneath the tabernacle. The existing tabernacle has been retained» (NDS 3528/1972, document no. 83/66, from July, 17th, 1966). The topic is the altar versus popoli. The letter states that the altar remains the same, but is being moved, and the tabernacle is being fixed to a separate pillar.

[5] Ulrich declares that he is withdrawing from «the Community formed for the purpose of carrying out the renovation of the Chapel of the Suffering Jesus on Jelasicev trg, and no longer has any obligations towards you, the architect Bahovac, or the Committee for the construction of this chapel. You will complete all the work required for its completion yourself, as you have done so far. Consequently, I have no claims whatsoever against you or the Committee for the construction of the Chapel of the Suffering Jesus regarding the architectural work for the construction of this chapel» (NDS 1591/1937).

[6] In 1941, at the initiative of Kerubin Šegvic, a side altar of the Wounded Jesus was placed in the chapel, which also served as the tomb of God during Holy Week. This arrangement was later abandoned, and the historical statue of the Wounded Jesus was subsequently brought to the chapel.