Have Jason send you straight to sleep as he reads to you a series of letters published in 1842 about Modern Architecture.
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In this episode we are reading a publication entitled The Country House, with designs by Monsieur Day Shahtoenuf and Sir Charles Lock Eastlake. In this book the Architect, Shahtoenuf, writes letters back and forth with his friend, Eastlake, where they discuss modern Architecture in 1842.
The Country House, with Designs, by Shahtoenuf and Eastlake
PREFACE.
HITHERTO the Contributions have appeared in a small volume: but a friend having furnished me with the Manuscripts of the following Letters, in order to do justice to the beautiful designs, it has been necessary to increase the size of the work. I trust that the merit of the drawings will reconcile my subscribers to the increased price.
The observation on the style fittest for domestic architecture, the description of the proposed house and the designs, are by Monsieur Day Shahtoenuf; to these, Mr. Eastlake kindly added a very valuable Letter on the Principles of Interior Decoration.
Monsieur Day Shahtoenuf is already known in this country by his elegant work, Architectura Domestica, and his design for the new Royal Exchange; all who have visited Hamburg must be well acquainted with the refined taste which characterizes the buildings erected under his superintendance.
It is but justice to M. Day Shahtoenuf to state that his letters were written merely as matter of amusement, and arose out of a discussion with a friend, as to which was the best style to be adopted for domestic architecture; the letters have been translated from the German, and unfortunately have not had the advantage of being submitted to the writer for correction.
It is proposed that the next volume should contain a reprint of the late Mr. Whately's admirable work on Modern Gardening; this it is hoped will be considered as a fit companion to the "COUNTRY HOUSE." I take this opportunity of thanking Mr. C. Knight and Mr. Jackson, who kindly furnished me with the blocks from which the vignettes have been printed.
MARY FOX.
LETTER One:
DEAR SIR,
As I am about to build a new house, I have determined to avail myself of your assistance, should it be convenient to you to give it. I do not by so doing intend that it should be supposed I think that the many very intelligent architects in this country are incapable of giving me good advice; but independently of my friendship for you, and great respect for your talents, I wish to consult one who is not likely to be so much wedded to the routine of modern Italian villas, Elizabethan houses, and thatched cottages, as is the case with most of our English professors: not that I mean to say anything in disparagement of a Palladian villa, always beautiful, though not always best suited to our climate. I am also fully sensible of many of the beauties of the old Elizabethan houses, and also of some of the imitations of them; and a small thatched cottage is very pretty.
I shall begin by stating the sort of house we want, and give a short description of the ground on which it is proposed to build it, in order that you may in the first place, give your notions as to the site, and the style which you would recommend. On the style, perhaps you would give us your views in detail, pointing out, as far as your leisure and inclination will permit, the merits of each, and which on the whole you prefer.
As regards the ground, we have no park, but sufficient extent of land to make a large paddock very park-like: it would not suit our views to have a park: the situation is not romantic; but as the ground is poor and wild, we shall command more ornament than profit. To the north or north-west there is a rising terrace, well sheltered with high trees; this slopes down for about a quarter of a mile into the valley of the Cray; the aspect is therefore south-east, and this comes best according to the slope of the ground. If you prefer that the house should stand high, you may have in front a good terrace of at least two hundred yards long and eight feet high; if lower down the hill (half way), the terrace will not be so good, but there will be better shelter from the north wind, and at the back there will be rising ground, through which the walks of the pleasure ground may be conducted, and still the house will be well above the valley. In front, looking over this valley, and across some fine orchards (for which Kent is celebrated) and some waving fields of corn, there is a mass of wood on a rising hill, about equal to the hill on which we are situated; on the right there is a fine view of Knocholt beeches; in the valley there is the town of Footscray, seen through the orchard at about half a mile distant, and by a little dexterous cutting and levelling we shall be able to get a glimpse of the small winding river.
On the right of the hill on which we are to build, there is a small spring at present rising in some swampy ground covered with alders; this we propose to clear, and shall be enabled, if you think it worth while, to enlarge into a small sheet of water. With this general view, you will see that we are well off as to aspect, have woods in the distance, and a valley, of no great beauty indeed, but still a valley, with a quiet stream, and this is always pleasing. I think it may be considered as a fair average specimen of English scenery, such as is met with in the southern counties.
Now as regards the house. There must be a good dining-room, a good general morning room, which will serve as drawing-room, and a large library; one or two small rooms, in which to receive persons on business. As regards bed-rooms, offices, and such. this will be matter of future consideration, when we have settled the important matter of site and style. I should, however, mention, that, as circumstances may make it desirable to add to the size, it will be advisable that there should be that irregularity in the plan as will admit of this, so that it may be in the end, a house costing from £10,000 to £12,000.
With respect to the offices, I think we make a great mistake in England, as we manage to hide them, and lose all the benefit of increasing the size and importance of the house by these additions. I know, however, this is a very difficult point to manage, and merely throw it out for your consideration.
The general building material in this part of the country is brick, though we are enabled, at no very great cost, to get some stone for window or door frames, and such.
I have been reading a little about the sites of ancient villas, but shall not trouble you with my views until I receive your answer: recollect we have a bad and variable climate, though we go out as much in the winter as summer; so that there must be at once shelter from the sun for our short summer, and warmth and shelter during the long winters and cold springs.
H. B.
Letter two:
For your letter, accept my thanks. It is doubly flattering to me, being a foreigner, to be commissioned to make the designs for the country house you intend to build. Yet while I derive great satisfaction from the task, I am impressed with the difficulties attending it, one of which is, that I am at present prevented by business from discussing the matter with you in person, and am therefore compelled to put my ideas upon paper. Simple as the commission appears, it however involves considerations of some moment, and which render it necessary that I should previously state to you my opinion in detail in regard to the style I propose to adopt. I have not forgotten what you once said to me, namely, that in order to make himself intelligible to others, it is essential that the artist should be clear as to his own meaning. I even suspect that opinions once defined, if not clearly and sincerely put down, may lead to misapprehension, and inasmuch as they commit the person who gives them, to the misleading of the artist himself. You invite me, however, to give my opinion, and having freely stated the difficulties of the undertaking, I begin with more confidence.
What then, with a view to your individual taste, is the style I would recommend as most suitable for the intended situation and purpose? And if such a question is now become not an uncommon one, you must allow that, sixty years ago, no one would have thought of proposing it to an architect for his consideration. Every architect would then have at once answered it by saying, "In that style which is in general use, and according to my own particular views of it." Or during any of the various epochs of the art, would any one have thought of suggesting to a Greek, an Italian, or native of the north of Europe, &c. to build in any other style than that belonging to their respective countries? It ought also to be borne in mind, that if we occasionally meet with an intermixture of styles, it is only in buildings of transition periods, during the change from one mode to another; and such periods were of only short duration, because the previous style had already outlived itself. Circumstances are now totally altered. We recognize and practically adopt various styles indiscriminately: nor is it difficult to explain how it happens that we now employ one and then another. For this, two reasons may be assigned: the first (a very meritorious one) is, that we with a generalizing view, anxiously study and investigate the most difficult examples of art. The second reason however, is of a very unsatisfactory nature, which is that in our weak hands no style has been so naturalized among us as to constitute a permanent canon by which to regulate the modifications of any and every architectural purpose. This is the cause of that indecision of style which manifests itself more or less in modern edifices, and of that changeableness of taste which has hitherto hindered us from establishing the art upon fixed principles, regulated according to the high requisites which our modern cultivation requires.
We seem to be of opinion that variety of character is attainable only by variety of style: hence our Museums are classically antique, our churches after the mode of the middle ages, and so forth, according as the buildings happen to belong to the class in which any particular period was most distinguished for buildings of that class. The character of such examples strikes us by its expressiveness; nor do we find it difficult, with models before us that we are now acquainted with and understand, to produce the same kind of effect and expression by merely copying their physiognomy and style. He, however, who is well grounded in the study, is aware that at different periods the art was treated according to its own principles as resulting from different modes of culture; and that consequently the adoption of a style previously discarded, though it may suit the vitiated taste of the artist, as the haut gout pleases the fastidious palate of the Epicure, yet it can never be pleasing to a really cultivated taste. You may think me somewhat fantastical, but it appears to me that we cannot read Homer with perfect relish in a saloon à la Louis Quatorze, or Shakespeare beneath the roof of a Grecian impluvium; and that it is only where the character of the surrounding forms and objects in some degree accord, at least do not harshly contrast with our mental occupation, that we can fully abandon ourselves to the imaginings of genius. I might, however, without impropriety, substitute "character" for "style" in the question you put to me, and my answer would then be: Let it be as noble and as cheerful as possible. Still the making a distinction between style and character does not entirely get rid of the difficulty; for a person who is as intelligent as you are in matters of art will say, "Even if you hit the character, the mere desire to invent an appropriate style does not of itself satisfy me, and on this account I wish you to state more explicitly which of former styles you intend mainly to select." This I will now attempt to do, and begin by stating it as my opinion, that the most perfect architectural style is that which admits at the same time of a refined style both of sculpture and of painting:—that which, while it serves as the vehicle of graceful embellishment, can maintain an equal excellence in itself. Such, as it appears to me, is the ideal which an architect of the present day ought to keep in his mind's eye. Yet before we proceed to inquire which of the principal styles we are acquainted with possesses such a quality in the most eminent degree, it will be proper to consider what is the kind of relationship which the three separate arts of architecture, painting, and sculpture, bear to each other.
According to the usual metaphor, the consanguinity is that of sisterhood. Yet in my opinion this is somewhat incorrect. In its origin and development every organic style of architecture has preceded the other two arts, consequently the relationship in which it stands to them may more properly be termed maternal, it being under her fostering protection that they have afterwards grown up: nor would it be difficult to exemplify this sort of connexion between the three arts by instances taken from different styles of architecture; and one who has applied himself to studying the motives and principles governing the formation of those different styles, will easily follow me in my remarks.
The two daughter arts were unknown to, or did not exist for the earliest Asiatic architecture; on which account, imposing as its gigantic remains are, they oppress the mind by the feeling they excite of stern and monstrous vastness. In the Egyptian style the growth of the children arts appears to have been stunted and repressed by the servitude in which they were kept; nor have any later race or nation attempted to rival the massiveness of its edifices, tattooed over with hieroglyphics.
It is only in the genuine architecture of ancient Greece itself, and in the Italian style of the fifteenth century, that we meet with all the three arts growing up to completeness together, and as is universally acknowledged, brought to a very high degree of refinement and perfection.
Notwithstanding the long continued progressive formation and manifold development of Gothic architecture, that style failed to attach to, and as it were to incorporate with itself the two kindred arts, which were checked both by unfavourableness of climate, and by war and political disturbances. Architecture was therefore compelled to trust chiefly to its own power and resources, employing sculpture and painting merely as subordinate decoration. And who shall say that this style, so full of creative power, would not have preserved itself more pure, have avoided falling into the cold and gloomy on the one hand, the bizarre and overloaded on the other, could it have availed itself of the assistance of sculpture and painting, so that they should have accompanied it in all the varieties of its times and developments? This was to an extent the case with Arabian architecture,[1] which, both in regard to the dominion it obtained and its organization, has many points of similarity with the nearly contemporary Gothic style, notwithstanding the marked distinctions which prevail between them. This reminds me of the remark of a poetical friend, who once said to me, "Like a rainbow on the horizon of art, Gothic architecture stretches itself across Europe from Byzantium to Portugal; while Arabian architecture may be compared to its reflection, somewhat flattened however, commencing from the same point, and crossing along the north coast of Africa till it reaches Spain: or to a reflection in the water, whose wavy surface occasions some little difference of appearance; and in fact we behold both styles united together in the amphibious city of Venice." This simile would be more literally appropriate had the uses to which the two styles were applied been more nearly alike.
[1] As regards Arabian architecture, the parent art may be said to have been entirely childless, depending entirely on its own resources, discarding all representation of animal life, whether in painting or sculpture.
With respect to modern architecture, it may be said that it has quite rejected the services of the other two arts, and, as I fear, greatly to its own detriment; while these latter arts, notwithstanding the eminence they have attained apart from architecture, are not so solidly united as they otherwise would be, nor capable of so completely developing their powers, had the union of the three been complete.
It is well known that, owing to the fetters imposed upon them in Egypt by the religion of the people and its priesthood, it was only in Europe that sculpture and painting could at different epochs attain to maturity. But it is not perhaps so generally known or considered, that it is one characteristic mark of European architecture, that it has at all times, whether those of its progress and advancement, or its decline, availed itself of natural forms, both vegetable and animal, for purposes of decoration; while the Asiatic styles were confined to geometrical figures for the ornaments.
The above cursory glance at the history of the art, may at least serve to shew how incumbent it is upon the architect of the present day to make himself acquainted with the creative power and processes of his art, by studying them as they actually manifest themselves at different epochs, and according to the different views and purposes to which the art was applied. By so doing, however, he is in some danger of being worked upon by conflicting impressions, occasioned by the diversity of styles and the opposite tastes they exhibit. Yet, unless I am greatly mistaken, the whole system of the art, as developed in the different styles, must henceforth have considerable influence upon our modern architecture.
Limiting our views for the present to those architectural productions in which a union with the other arts is more directly attainable, we find Grecian or early Italian architecture the predominating style. The last grafted on the former, may be said to be more or less complete in the greater or less proportion in which it derives its nourishment from the parent stem. If we look, for example, to the progress or course of painting in Italy, that art flourished there in proportion to the nourishment it derived from the antique. The works of Mantegna, M. Angelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Raphael bear testimony to this; and those great men would probably have attained to a higher degree of excellence, had they been as well acquainted with the sculptures of the Parthenon, and the Greek bronzes, as they were with the works of the Romans. Most assuredly a knowledge of the architecture of the time of Pericles, or of that of Pompey, would not have been without its influence upon such men as Bramante, San Gallo, and Baldassore Peruzzi, nor have failed of being turned to account by them: observe, however, that this remark is not intended to depreciate what they actually accomplished, nor to disparage the style which they formed. These explorers had unquestionably discovered new veins in the rich mine which had been opened by the Greeks; as the Romans, who were the immediate imitators of the Greeks, had already extended the one first of all worked. In all subsequent operations, as in what the French term the Renaissance style, nothing more was done than to go on excavating, seldom, however, with sufficient pains or caution, so as to separate completely the gold from the dross. When, therefore, I propose to make a design in the "Greek style," I wish you to observe that I understand by this term a striving after the purity of this canon, but at the same time with a reserved right to the free use of those modes and motives with which later European architecture supplies us. If a determinate name must be given to the style, I propose I should call it, "the Renaissance style of the nineteenth century."
But many may say, "How conveniently he contrives to get rid of the Gothic architecture!" while others will exclaim, "According to such principles, a very pretty sort of medley is likely to be produced." In answer to the first set of objections I reply: "If you can introduce modern sculpture and painting into Gothic architecture without prejudice to them or it, I will say that you have attained a great end." To the others I should reply: "You misunderstand or pervert my meaning. I have not spoken of a merely mixing up of different styles, but of compounding them together; between which two processes there is, I conceive, a wide difference, the ingredients being merely put together in the one case, without losing their respective qualities; while in the other they amalgamate with each other, and produce an entirely new combination: and it is in accomplishing combinations of this kind that the power of genuine art manifests itself; and the distinction may be likened to the difference between a mechanical and a chemical combination. Nor are some compound styles of architecture less beautiful than others which are quite unmixed."
I know not whether these remarks will prove of much service to you, but I trust they will at least enable you, after seeing what are my views generally on the subject, to make your own suggestions in return for my further guidance.
I am,
A. C.
LETTER THREE:
DEAR SIR,
THANKS for your letter in answer to mine, or rather in part answer to it, for you have confined yourself solely to a discussion of the style to be selected. A subject which has hitherto, I think, not been sufficiently considered; at least in England. I believe that amateurs order a Grecian Palladian, or Elizabethan house without having much speculated on what are the different merits or demerits of each, but merely with reference to some one example which may be in their recollection, and which may have pleased them; or what is oftener the case, they submit to be guided by the bent of their architect, who in general, are wedded to some particular favourite style. Thus, we have Mr. ——, all Gothic and Elizabethan; Mr. ——, all Italian, with a dash of the Byzantine, Renaissance, &c.
I am, I own, much pleased as well as instructed by this discussion, and I hope you will not consider me as intruding too much upon your time and patience, if I venture to seek further elucidations of some of the positions in your letter. I quite agree it is clear that as yet we have a style to choose, and that in future ages, no architect will be able to apply any definite character to our present mode of building. I must, however, premise what indeed my letter will fully prove, that your partiality has induced you to give me credit for greater knowledge in matters of art, especially as regards architecture, than I possess.
I agree that the style which best admits of being combined with the sister arts (or filial if you please) of painting and sculpture, must be the one to adopt, and that it is clear their union is always a mutual improvement. It seems you come to the conclusion that the pure Greek style of architecture is that which best admits of this union. Now, as regards domestic architecture, I am not sure that I have any very clear perception of what is pure Greek style. I suspect our notion as regards a house of pure Greek style, is a cube of building of mock stone with a portico, if a large house; or if a small one, with some thin paste-like pilasters, and a certain number of parallelogram holes cut into the walls for windows, with two smaller cubes for wings; and, in the inside, a repetition of the outside, in the shape of the rooms; that is, two oblong rooms for dining and drawing rooms, with an oblong hall placed the other way: the usual accompaniment of folding doors, and two or three small and often dark rooms at the back. There are certainly some changes rung on these forms, but the theme is always the same. I call Sir R. Smirties' Post Office a gigantic small Grecian house. I am aware that the Palladian improvements, or additions, (which ever you will) have multiplied the resources, and have given us much to delight; namely, the circular dome, pillars, and gallery, and the consequent change in the disposition of the apartments. I mention these points to let you see the nakedness of the land, and trust to your kindness for better instruction.
You assume that the Grecian style is the best adapted to pictorial and sculptural decoration, but I do not see the reason of this; in fact, without a more precise definition of what you mean by Greek style, as adapted to domestic architecture, I do not see how this can be shewn. You state that the Gothic style is not so well adapted to the union with the filial arts, and that hitherto when so used they were subordinate only. I shall be the more ready to agree when I have some further exposition on this point. Though not so distrustful as our Royal Society who adopt "Nullius in verba" as their motto, yet cling to an old monkish law maxim of Lord Coke; I may say of your position what he says of law, "Lex plus laudatur quando ratione probatur." I am aware that the Gothic churches are often overloaded with ornament, and that the sculpture often seems as if merely stuck on, and the pictures are hung up as ornaments, not as part and parcel of the building; and, I believe, that tapestry was often called in aid to decorate our cathedrals, and with great effect; but is it of necessity so? Are there no exceptions? at all events, it is not so in the Byzantine style, which approaches so nearly to the Gothic; and, as regards the Arabian, (take for instance the Alhambra) the fair daughters unite in great harmony with their beautiful mother. You have besides omitted, I think, one point in which Gothic architecture has been greatly aided by the pictorial art, namely, the painted windows:
With hues romantic tinged the gorgeous pane,
To fill with holy light this wondrous fane,
To aid the builder's model richly rude,
By no Vitruvian symmetry subdued.
I begin to feel that it is probable I have entirely mistaken what you mean by Grecian style, and that it does not preclude the use of arches, groined ceilings, domes, &c. I have been the more diffuse on this point because I own I have a leaning to what we have called ELIZABETHAN; conceiving, whether true or not, that there is more fitness in it for domestic architecture than in the Grecian style; that the regularity and repetition of form, which in a great building is delightful, in a small one does not please from the diminutive size of the objects. And, again, as regards the material and colour, as we use Grecian style in this country, the material is either white stone or white stucco, which in our climate appears cold, and does not give half so much the notion of warmth and comfort as the fine rich-toned red brick; and what refers to the exterior, is perhaps equally applicable to the interior. Although in a building on a grand scale the mind is pleased with symmetry and regularity, "in little" this is irksome, and gives the notion of poverty, in fact, too soon lets you into the secret of the whole house; there is no surprise, no discovery to make. Shew me a Palladian villa a mile off, and I could draw you the plan of the inside at once. Indeed, I could walk blindfolded into the drawing-room, dining-room, library, and boudoir, and go up to bed in the best bed-room, without a guide, or a light. Here are no
Rich windows that exclude the light,
And passages that lead to nothing.
A good deal also, I am willing to own, arises from association and national prejudices; some of our most delightful houses are built in this style, and they have, at all events within, signs of harmony in the style of decoration, and in the accessories. The gardens and out-buildings were often made more appropriate and better suited to the house than in any other architectural attempts that we have made; and, I believe, no Englishman ever fancied building a house that did not have the large bay window and the large fireplace (against all principles of good grates and Arnott's stoves I admit,) and the low groined passage and the panelled hall in his mind. But it seems you think it most difficult
or rather say coy than willing. I beg you will not suppose I am opposing your views, all I mean is to canvass and to be sure that I understand them.
I have to repeat that I agree entirely that the style is best which is most susceptible of uniting the three arts; but I only wish to know why the Greek is most susceptible; and what is the kind of sculpture and painting you wish to unite; in order to see that such a union is suitable to our climate, and can be obtained at a reasonable cost, for you must bear in mind that I want to build a country-house, not a palace!
It is a long time since I was in Italy, and when I was there I did not pay so much attention to architecture as I should do, if I were to go over the same ground again, now that I have got a house to build; but there is a strong impression on my mind that the other parts of Europe may rival or surpass us in palaces and grand architectural monuments, yet that there is no country which would present so many good hints in domestic architecture as England; always referring to the great points, convenience, and comfort; for I own, as fitness is the guiding principles of all perfection in building, I conceive it essential in purely domestic architecture, that a character of fitness for habitation and comfort should always be prominent.
I am a great admirer of Balzac, and I think one of his best descriptions of still life is the account of the house in his "Recherche de l'absolu;" it is so good that I should be tempted, if it were not too long for a letter, to copy and send it to you as a model, if not of what a house should be, at least of how one should be described.[2]
Yours, &c.
H. B.
Letter Four:
DEAR SIR,
But for the trouble of answering your letter I should have been much amused by your remarks upon what, at no very distant period, used to pass for Grecian architecture; but thank heaven we have passed over that barren tract of human invention. Continuing in the same strain, you would fain have me believe you are one of those pilgrims to the shrine of art, who fancy they have now luckily gained a verdant and flowery oasis; or rather that they have discovered the true Eden itself, which it seems is no other than the Elizabethan style; and to complete all, you treat me as the evil spirit, harbouring deadly enmity against this fair paradise.
It is easy enough for you to give your opinions off-hand on these matters, but with us the case is different: the architect finds it less difficult to exhibit his ideas in his design, than to explain all the motives which lead to it,—how the ideas exactly arose, and how far they may have been influenced, either by our studies or our fancy. I must be allowed, therefore, to return to my former examination of the subject of style, and my deduction from such examination.
You will call to mind that the principal different manners which have prevailed in Europe, are, first the Greek style, and the additions made to it by the Roman adaptation of it, then the Gothic in its different periods, and the different treatments of such periods in the different countries; and under this period may be added the partial adoption of the Arabian style in the south. Then this great æra of the revival or Renaissance style, as it seemingly arose in Italy, France, Germany, Flanders, and England. This being, as regards England, your boasted Elizabethan style.
It is only very recently that my attention has been bestowed on that style which in the north of Europe succeeded to the Gothic; whereas, till then, it had been all along imagined that the Italians alone had comprehended the spirit of the antique, and been able to revive it in a newer form of their own; an error against which we should be upon our guard. Why should we not recognize the various modes of treating the antique, as we find them in different countries; and admit them to be all emanations from one common source and principle. In like manner, the Gothic principle or style was in common adopted and worked out through the whole of Europe, and was in common consentaneously abandoned wherever it had flourished; and the elements of ancient architecture became as commonly substituted for it. And this abandonment of the Gothic, it may be remarked, is the first instance in all history, when the creative power of a people (and, by people, I do not mean a single nation, but the whole of Christendom, united by one common religion) has survived the style of architecture, originally invented and brought to perfection by themselves.
This last subject would be an interesting and fertile one to investigate, and would throw considerable light on the development of the human mind throughout Europe. Such consideration, even confined merely as regards architecture, would be one too far from the present subject now to discuss. Since, however, the Gothic as well as the revival of the antique principle have extended over all Europe, in order to attain a knowledge of either, we should not confine ourselves to isolated specimens of particular countries. It is only by taking a survey of the entire field of Gothic architecture, that we can rightly comprehend its varied powers. Is it possible I would ask, from the mere acquaintance with English Gothic to imagine, or from its elements to compose a tower like that of the Minster of Freiburg in Brisgau, or a loggia of similar character to that called the Loggia da Orcagna, at Florence? On the other hand an acquaintance with continental Gothic alone will furnish no idea of the peculiar character of the English perpendicular class. The Renaissance style which is fraught with so much plasticity and variety, springs also but from one root. In like manner as it is impossible for a botanist to understand all the species of one particular family without tracing all that are found in different parts of the globe; so too, is it impossible to become acquainted with the power of any one style of architecture without a similar comparative study of all its specimens, as exhibited in the works of different nations which have adopted it. To the north of Europe must justly be allowed the merit of having exhausted the whole circuit of Gothic architecture, and the application of its principles; this was certainly not accomplished in Italy. It is therefore on this side of the Alps that we observe many of the motives and principles of the Gothic retained to a very late period not disturbed, as was the case in Italy, by types from the antique. At the same time it must be admitted, that when the style founded upon this latter, began to find its way northwards, the two sister arts, painting and sculpture, though they followed in the train of architecture, did not strike root very deeply, but were for the most part treated capriciously and mechanically as mere handicrafts; and this was especially the case in England. It is therefore remarked with some truth, that the Renaissance style is characterized in Italy by greater delicacy and beauty than elsewhere; in France and the Low countries by greater richness, and in England by capriciousness and extravagance. Lest, however, the term itself, Renaissance, should be thought too loose and vague, it may be proper to define it as used to signify "that style which everywhere succeeded immediately to the Gothic."
In Italy, this first period of the proper application of the antique terminates with the tendency of Michael Angelo, to destroy the true proportions of his buildings by colossal details; on the other parts of the continent it disappeared in consequence of the diffusion of M. Angelo's taste by the Jesuits; and in England it terminated at the time of Wren. Accordingly, this architectural period extends very little beyond a single century, commencing in other countries about the time when it was already on the decline in Italy.
In what I have just been stating, I must be understood to allude to one uniform aim, namely, the free appropriation and adaptation of the elements of the antique style to modern purposes; consequently it is evident that the so-called Elizabethan style is only one of the links of a progressive series of such attempts. You must, therefore, admit that architecture which is capable of producing independent works out of its own resources, and from its own principles, is degraded to what is little better than mere decoration and scene painting, when, (apprehensive of falling into contradiction and want of harmony, unless it retains all the individual particulars of extant examples,) it timidly strives to imitate the dialect of a single province. How short a time, however, must the impression produced by such mummery last! and how long the impression of a work of architecture is destined to remain! It is because we are ashamed of, or mistrust the results of our own study and conviction, that we venture to exhibit ourselves to posterity, merely as the copyists of examples; the repute of which is already established, and which may be learnt and repeated by rote? At various periods men have shewn themselves either barbarous or puerile in their notions on art; yet never till now such slavish copyists, such mere plagiarists, such mocking-birds in style. You may judge by this sally in what an ill humour I am, at finding that you would shut me up in a cage and there make me sing. If you examine your Elizabethan architecture with some little critical attention, you will hardly fail to perceive that, with all its richness of expression, the elementary sounds are no more harmonious than the crowing of a cock, or the braying of an ass.
All this concerns merely the style, as style; for in other respects we often meet with much that deserves praise; convenient arrangement, and contrivance, striking effect, and much cleverness of construction and execution, although so far from being pure or refined, the taste displayed may be decidedly vulgar and coarse. I freely confess that the merits I have just mentioned, were retained in the architecture of the north of Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries: I say retained, because the Gothic style that was then abandoned, had been treated with masterly and skill, and shewed disciplined artificers in all that belongs to mechanical execution; consequently, the ability thus produced had only to employ itself upon a fresh task. At the end of the last century, on the contrary, so completely had every thing like a school of the art disappeared, that at the University of Gottingen, architecture was taught as supplementary to the elementary course of mathematics. Is it then to be wondered at that we should have been filled with stupid wonder at the sublime works then newly brought to light, or that we should have set about copying them for the nonce, out of the affectation of classical purity, but without bestowing any study on the peculiar motives to be detected in them, or on the necessary alterations to be made in consequence of new exigences?
If we allow that as far as it proceeded, Grecian architecture is stamped by perfect beauty, it is of little moment to our argument whether it was so comprehensive as it might have been, and had sufficiently developed itself for those purposes which we now more especially require; since the perfection it did actually attain in the direction it took, ought to be sufficient to inspire the artist. It was not necessary that the latter should surrender up the freedom belonging to him as such, and confine himself to following Grecian motives and intentions. In fact, the peculiar charm,—the grace and freshness of Grecian architecture become withered as soon as we begin to treat it according to dry systematic rules. The Vitruvius, capable of legislating for it according to its genius and true spirit perhaps is not yet born! For indulging at such length in these somewhat abstract remarks upon style alone, I must again entreat your pardon. You ask for some more distinct and explicit ideas on the subject; and are apparently, like many others, of opinion, that the remains of a few temples, such as we behold in Stuart and Revett, comprise nearly the whole of Greek architecture. The chief point for our present consideration is, how far it had accommodated itself to buildings for domestic purposes: and here I must remind you that Pliny's description of his villas are still extant. It must, indeed, be confessed that those two residences do not belong to the epoch of Pericles; yet they belong nevertheless to that same series of actual Greek plans and constructions which have been preserved to us at Pompeii and Herculaneum, and which Sir W. Gell's tasteful delineations have rendered so familiar to all. Many remains of the same class in the vicinity of Rome, and more especially in the Golfo di Gaeta, at Puzzoli, and in the environs of Naples, sufficiently attest the fancy and variety with which the ancients availed themselves of the conditions imposed by peculiarities of ground and locality,—contrived to combine the advantages of coolness and shade on the one hand, with the glow of sunshine on the other; to provide a frame and foreground for the prospect from the house; and to produce happily imagined effects and picturesqueness of character by means of the irregularity and declivity of the ground.
Each of those ancient villas presents us with a new idea, and may be taken as an architectural study. Look, for instance, at those examples of the kind on the Lake of Albano and the Gulf of Gaëta, where the dwelling itself is connected with grottoes offering cool retreats, either for sitting in or for the purpose of baths, and upon entering which the visitor is so fascinated by the magic effect of reflected light from the water, that he almost fancies the whole scene to be a visionary and unearthly one. Water, it may be observed, either gushing in a stream, or exhibiting an expanded mirror-like surface, appears to have been considered by the ancients indispensable to the charm of a villa residence. In both the destroyed cities, even the smallest town houses offered upon entering them the reflection of the sky on the surface of the water contained in the basin of the impluvium. In larger dwellings, water was introduced more abundantly, and also in greater variety of modes; and residences upon the coast were built out quite into the sea. Besides much else that they have derived from the ancients, the modern Italians have retained this fondness for the combination of water and architecture, as many of their villas testify. For examples of the kind I refer you to the Villa Madama near Rome, and also to several at Frescati; and yet there the water and the architecture are not so intimately connected as in the villas and houses of the ancients. The climate of the north, in a great measure, prevents our availing ourselves of water as a means of producing reflection of light in the interior; but we may imitate this principle in a due arrangement of light and shade, and also in some cases by the use of mirrors in place of water.
Another very great, though little regarded point of excellence and architectural effect in the latter consists in the covered ambulatories and porticoes, which, indeed, were intended chiefly as a defence against heat and sun, yet recommend themselves equally to us, as affording protection from rain and wind. Nevertheless it is rarely but in cloisters that we find this architectural convenience retained. Great attention seems also to have been paid by the ancients to planning the internal communication in such a manner, that the domestics could pass to and fro, and have access to the different rooms, without incommoding those occupying any of the suite; and in this sort of arrangement they frequently exhibit so much ingenuity and contrivance, that we may study for some time ere we shall be able to surpass them.
For the present, these few hints and suggestions must suffice; but I could discourse to you for days together of the varied effects of light, the manifold diversity of form, the richness of play in regard to decoration, and all the combinations and beauties, both with respect to circumstances of locality and arrangement, that are to be met with in the remains of ancient domestic architecture.
Among other questions which you have submitted for my consideration, is, whether pure Greek architectural forms and details will bear to be united with such a material as coloured brickwork? And by way of removing your doubts, I beg to remind you of the highly praised brick edifices of King Mausolus, described by Vitruvius. Texture and colour of materials are to be considered merely as the vehicle made use of by the artist, and may be employed in one style almost equally as well as in another. Another doubt suggested, is whether arches and vaulting can properly be admitted into the style above-named? Now, were you to consult the Delphic oracle, it would probably return you some such answer as the following: When the edge of an aperture in a wall forms a right angle, the archivolt may still descend to the base without being interrupted by an impost. In vaulting, the diagonal crossing lines must be considered as secondary ones.
Perhaps this will but ill satisfy you, and you will say that, instead of solving one enigma, I have merely added another. Yet of one thing you may be assured, namely, that those difficult problems and mysteries in art, which have been expounded in formal terms, have been already actually decyphered, and explained more clearly by the practical solution of them in productions of art.
It seems you think I have not yet given you any satisfactory reason for my position, that the present improved state, both of painting and sculpture, renders it difficult to reconcile them with the conditions required by Gothic architecture. I admit this would be otherwise were we to go back to the hard dry style of the Van Eyck school. I can only say that such an attempt has been made by some of the best artists in Germany, and that after persisting in the trial for some time, they have now abandoned the imitation of the early German style, and have preferred the Italian. At any rate, my opinion is not contradicted by history, since the latter informs us that the powerful impression produced by the broad handling and simple masses of the ancient works of sculpture, then first discovered in various parts of Italy, had the effect of giving the representation of nature an entirely new direction. It is also a striking circumstance that, owing to the fresh impulse which both painting and sculpture hence received, not only the taste for Gothic architecture declined, but the system itself was opposed both by painters and sculptors, who attempted to make architecture subsidiary to their productions. Such being the case, as they alleged, in regard to ancient art. With what eagerness not only the learned men of Italy, and the architects who were urged on by them to the study of classical antiquity, but also both sculptors and painters, entered the lists against Gothic art, is sufficiently evident from Ghiberti's journal; and again afterwards, when a decided victory had been already obtained over it, from Raphael's report to Leo X. on the ancient edifices and other remains at Rome.
It is perhaps not so generally known, that in more northern countries it was the painters who set up for reformers in architecture. Holbein, there is reason to think, erected the first specimen of the antique in England: the portal of Wilton House, for his patron the Earl of Pembroke, still existing. About a hundred years later, Rubens, with the view of giving the death-blow to the still lingering taste for Gothic architecture in the Netherlands, made drawings of the Palaces of Genoa, and caused them to be disseminated in engravings. At the present day, indeed, we may be excused for smiling at the classical zeal of the worthy Peter Paul, who, in his preface to that collection of designs, inveighs against Gothic architecture as barbarous, at the same time that the plates themselves which he gives, are little better than hideous caricatures of the modern Genoese style, which, at the best is by no means remarkable for purity of taste.
Should Gothic architecture, which is just now employed upon a liberal scale, and with more or less of true feeling for it, in your country ever obtain firm footing there again, depend upon it my professional brethren who have, I think, adopted it without due consideration of the present condition of the other fine arts, will have to encounter serious, and, perhaps, unforeseen difficulties from the painters and sculptors. Were some gifted sculptor to apply himself to architecture, I am persuaded he would drive us all out of the field, for the charm with which that art is capable of investing architecture by a skilful union of the flesh-like sculpture with the hard bones of architecture, would produce an irresistibly fascinating effect.
From this long letter you will collect that, whilst on the other hand I do not mean to be confined either to a servile imitation of a pure Pompeian house; so, on the other, I do not mean to be tied down to repeat your Elizabethan architecture, or the Gothic of Germany or England. Nor do I propose to give you a fac-simile of any building of the Renaissance school. To the best of my power, I propose (as the best style) that which adopts the pure broad principles of beauty in building, and which were, I sincerely believe, best propounded by the Greeks; and which all experience has shewn to be best suited to receive addition from the highest style of painting and sculpture; and which are, in fact, parts of architecture. How far I may succeed is another point.
It is indeed difficult in all cases, even to select what is best; but with the most lofty aspirations, I am aware that I may indeed fall very short of the execution of my wishes; perhaps, I have already done myself some harm in this very discussion of style, by preparing you to expect too much.
Yours,.
A. C.