Perched at the very top of Nob Hill, Grace Cathedral is probably not a place you walk past on a regular basis in San Francisco. At first, it’s a place that seems to be full of contradictions—after all, a church is not where you would expect to find an AIDS memorial, a weekly yoga practice, Einstein in stained glass or a dance party.
But in San Francisco, all these things fit perfectly. In a stereotypically godless city, we revere lost friends and family, meditation, science and ass-shakin’ beats. Even the name fits for a city of nonbelievers—not honoring some long-dead saint but rather grace itself.
Time-lapse footage of the sunset north to south from Grace Cathedral
Since a first failed attempt on Bernal Hill, I’ve been obsessed with shooting time-lapses of San Francisco, a city that seems made for them, so I’m always on the lookout for a new perspective. Along with a custom Google map, I have rushed ideas tucked away on my to-do list: “Potrero—Virginia looking north” or “Behind dermatologist’s office — Golden Gate.” I also have the annoying habit of showing clips to cornered acquaintances—and sometimes strangers.
Once you start listing views of San Francisco, everyone seems to have their favorite. So the list grows, and for the last few years, there’s been a big one looming: Grace.
Time-lapse footage of the sunset facing east from Grace Cathedral
The idea was planted near the end of 2017 when I met Dave Freitag, a professional rigger. Whether it’s an acrobat, a tree house or something that has mass, Dave can drag it, lift it and hang it from a ceiling. I inevitably showed him some recent time-lapses of San Francisco, and he mentioned that he had a friend at Grace Cathedral and could possibly help get me onto the roof. Until recently, the idea stayed buried on the to-do list.
When I explained myself to Rebecca Nestle, director of events and cultural programs at the church, she asked a few perfectly reasonable questions and then gave me the green light.
To get to the spire, you first take a locked elevator, then climb a few flights of stairs. Beyond a couple of more locked doors and gates, you come to the gantry above the chapel. Beneath your feet, you can see visitors exploring eight floors below, and depending on the day, you’ll hear sitar, organ or quiet footsteps.
Near the back of the chapel, support beams in the ceiling congregate in a large ring that, in turn, supports the substructure of the spire. This is where things get a bit harrowing. A series of metal ladders snake their way through the structure, past awkward choke points and in increasing darkness. By the final ladder, it’s completely black, and as you climb, it feels like you’re being tipped back a few degrees. Finally, above your head is a metal hatch. While holding on for dear life with one hand, you push open the hatch and pull yourself up into the spire.
Now imagine that trip with 150 pounds of camera gear. Without Dave, it would have been impossible. He fitted me with a harness, expertly hoisted up my gear via a series of ropes and pulleys, and even kept me company for a bit.
Time-lapse footage of the sunset facing west from Grace Cathedral
Usually, when I shoot a sunset time-lapse, I get a sense of the neighborhood or at least the block. Standing in one place observing the city for hours on end can reveal all kinds of little details. But in the spire on Grace Cathedral, I was isolated from the city below. There were some kids playing in the school attached to the back of the church, and occasionally a siren would draw my attention to California Street, but more than anything else, it was cold and windy. I stayed up there fiddling with cameras for about seven hours on the first day, and as I was leaving, I noticed a group of kids near the front of the church staring up at me and my headlamp, no doubt wondering why the hell someone would be up in a church spire so late. I left a camera running overnight and came back the next day to reshoot a few angles.
Time-lapse footage of the sunset facing north from Grace Cathedral
Altogether I shot nine sequences, consisting of 17,000+ images, or about 500 GB. After processing time-lapses, I usually post a couple of them on Instagram and horde away the rest. But in this case, The Bold Italic is giving me the chance to share them with all of you. I hope they give you a new perspective on our beautiful city.
