Obstacles and Aids to Architectural Progress [1]

I propose to make this the subject of inquiry – To consider the obstacles that lie in the way, and to lay before you some reasons in consideration of which, I am persuaded that, if the world stands, there yet remains a glorious future for Architecture. There was a time when the leaders of public opinion, in matters of taste, were clamorous for a Style of Architecture suited to the circumstances of their present day. They asked why it was that we had no architecture of our own, as past ages had? The question was laid as a reproach at every Architect’s door, and there being no practical answer, it began to be considered as a hopeless case. It was said that the mine was wrought out;– that every imaginable form had been already used; and that there was nothing left for us but judicious selection. More recently we have been told, that so far from regarding this as matter of regret, we ought to congratulate ourselves upon the rich inheritance left to us by our ancestors, and humbly and earnestly set about turning to account the varied materials which lie ready to our hands;– that in short, those who worry themselves and others about a Modern Style, are no better than fools and pestilent fellows, who ought straightway to be utterly abolished.

For, say they, “we might with as much reason try to invent a new language”. Now, suppose we were to capture this argument and turn it upon the ranks of the enemy, what effect would it have? If we compare the English language of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries with that of the nineteenth, we will find, that, although at no particular period during the intervening time has a new language been invented, yet it has been so changed by degrees, that if a writing of those early days were laid before an ordinary English Scholar of the present day, he would fail to make out more than a word or two here and there. The fact is that our whole circumstances are changed, and we require a great many words to express our purposes, that our simple ancestors had no use for. Our style of life, and style of language, are entirely new, and in so far as there is any parallelism between language and architecture. we ought to have a new style of Architecture as well.

The same school of writers, in treating of Art in general, lays it down as a fundamental doctrine, that the business of the Artist is to represent natural objects, and that any admixture of his own thoughts in his work can only degrade it; and because architecture is not a reproduction of natural forms, they would have it expelled from the society of the fine Arts, or, if in any case it might be recommended to mercy, it is, when inseparably connected with painting and sculpture, in serving the purpose of a ground, or frame work, upon which may be exhibited wreaths of flowers and foliage, and groups of men and animals. It is quite true that certain Styles of Architecture are very little worth, when divested of their decorations. But although truth has been found in the bottom of a well, it may nevertheless still exist in the highest heavens.– A more comprehensive view of this matter will lead to more correct conclusions.

The most vehement supporters of this doctrine will not affirm, that men should, in all things, be restricted to the use of natural products, without their being cleaned, cooked, or manufactured in some way or other. On the contrary, I think it must be admitted, that man, having been endowed, not only with judgement, but with reason and imagination, is bound to exercise these faculties whenever occasion requires. Indeed he is distinguished from the lower animals chiefly in this, that, whereas they have their habits fixed and do the same things from generation to generation, he is capable of improvement and is impelled by an irresistible desire to develop his powers to the utmost;– and that not for the purposes of his own life merely, but for the whole long life of the race, and in proportion to the sense of obligation which he feels himself lying under to those who have gone before so is he constrained to add his quota to the general stock for the good of posterity, and contribute a stone to the great fabric of human achievement.

There must be no standing still, – no rest and be thankful. Man has been appointed to do a great work, – no less than to carry on the work of Creation; – to adapt material forms to invisible laws; – to add to the beauty of the natural landscape the not unworthy element of Architecture. And let it be distinctly impressed upon our minds, that the work of man in so far as it is the genuine outgrowth of his instincts, is as truly a work of nature as is the work of any of the numerous building animals. But when from ignorance or indifference he resigns his mission and power to create, and, instead of giving expressions to the conceptions of his imagination, he takes to imitating, and copying that which he sees with his eyes then his work becomes unnatural, inharmonious, unintelligible, contemptible. It has been said that a Gothic interior is meant to represent a grove of trees, but if our ingenious ancestors had really entertained such an intention, they would have contrived to produce a much closer resemblance, and at the same time, a much baser Architecture.

Architecture, to be true, must be truly architectural, that is to say, every part must be specially designed and adapted to its particular purpose and position, and each recognisable as an essential member in an organised body. It will be good for us therefore, if we can, by any means find our way back into the old paths, and, instead of scuttling about the world with camp stool and sketch–book in search of unedited cusps and crockets, follow the example of all successful workers in past times, and in the present time. Let us place ourselves in the position of our mechanical, our chemical, and our literary contemporaries, and express, not only all that we know about Architecture, but all that we can possibly imagine, and so apply our knowledge and conceptions of the beautiful, to whatever is necessary, or useful, as to make them at least seemly, when we cannot render them objects of intellectual gratification, or hearts, delight, and then, it will be regarded as a mark of opprobrium, if it can be said of any man, that he follows this, or that obsolete style of Architecture. This would surely be a most reasonable, and desirable state of things.

When we look at the obstacles which bar the way to Architectural progress, their number and magnitude is somewhat appalling. The first, and greatest of these, is the want of correct knowledge, and consequent indifference on the part of the public. Notwithstanding the apparent interest manifested by the public in pictures and the like, it will be found, on careful observation, that the qualities for which works of this kind are valued, are not their purely artistic merits, but such a faithful imitation of familiar objects, dextrous manipulation, and even less worthy qualities. The abstract character of Architecture requires for its proper appreciation the exercise of a different class of faculties, and a knowledge of the true nature of art. But as people in general expend their best energies upon the ordinary business of life, they are little disposed to enter upon the investigation of questions involving a considerable amount of mental labour, before they can be so understood as to yield that high degree of pleasure, which those who are familiar with them seem to enjoy. Yet every man claims, as if by divine right, to be regarded as a man of taste, and gives his opinion with the freedom and promptitude of one who feels that he has the right. Now every man has, or should have, a love for the beautiful, or a sense through which the beautiful affects him, but taste supposes something more than this; it supposes that faculty or sense acting under the control of the judgement, so educated by careful thought, and varied and long experience, that we do not fall into ecstasies about everything that is brightly coloured, or elaborately decorated. Between the instinctive love of the beautiful, and refined taste, there exists a state of matters extremely difficult to deal with. People brought up in large cities, and occupied with the cares of business, are very much shut out from those influences which foster and strengthen the love of the beautiful, or a taste for art, and so they are governed by what may be called predilections. These are formed without any sensible effort, and upon models of the most ordinary type, which are unfortunately not merely negative in character, but positively base and vile.

This condition of the public mind is called common sense, and if any poor soul who has been led to sound the depths of his nature, and evolve from thence something of a different stamp, and ventures to show it, he is good naturedly looked upon as one whose training has been defective, or who, from mental incapacity, has failed to master the distinctive features of the popular style; or should he put a bold front upon his doings, and assert the necessity for some change, he is regarded as a disturber of the public peace, and treated with that degree of dignified scorn, which becomes offended wisdom. He is pointed out as one to be shunned, as an unsafe man, and unworthy of the confidence of respectable people.

A very serious obstacle to architectural progress is the fear of criticism, which people have neither knowledge to repel or firmness to withstand. A wealthy merchant who was about to build a coast residence, having instructed his Architect as to the kind, and extent of accommodation required, and coming to speak of the interior said “Now I want a house that nobody will criticise.” This was a representative man expressing the feeling of his class. He knew nothing about architecture, could take no pleasure in it, and therefore objected to his being bored with questions and remarks, and above all things dreaded ridicule. But, on the other hand, he wished it to be made quite apparent that his house had cost a good deal of money. The walls were to be of polished ashlar all round, and it was to have plate glass in all the windows. It requires a good deal of firmness of purpose, and clearly formed convictions on the part of a reformer, to withstand ridicule. Indeed, next to the fear of starvation, it is the severest test that his principles can be put to, and it is not to be wondered at if his client should shrink from it. Most men laugh at whatever they cannot comprehend, and vulgar men, having their imaginations furnished with all sorts of familiar objects, such as culinary utensils and the like, take an intense delight in applying these in comparison with forms which are new and strange to them, and thereby inducing other people to join in their merriment as a means of concealing from themselves, and their dupes, their ignorance, and want of sympathy with progress of any kind.

Fashion is another serious hindrance to progress, Its demands are imperative, and quite independent of, and unassailable by reason, The people who are under this influence are generally more observant than the class that is governed by mere predilections. They can give very definite instructions about many things, and where their knowledge fails them they refer to what their great friends Messrs. This, and That, have done, and from which course there is no appeal. However absurd these doings may have been in themselves, or however inconsistent they may be with the conditions to which they are required now to be applied, any style may be adopted by fashion but woe to whatever good thing that happens to fall under its patronage, for just in proportion to the degree of favour bestowed upon it and the extent to which it is pushed, so, in due time will it become the object of aversion, contempt and demolition.

Rising still higher we come to the obstructive effect which sentimental associations exercise upon architectural progress. Now, it may be supposed that I am going too far in arraigning these before you, and seeking to have them condemned in the same category with the prejudices of the ignorant, the raillery of fools, the scoffing of distempered minds, and the freaks of fashion. For this love of venerable, or pleasurable associations, is an amiable failing, it is intimately allied and mixed up with a high order of intelligence; and in dealing with it, my desire is to do so with all due respect, and to push it aside regretfully and with a gentle hand, where it interferes with the attainment of more important ends.

There is a theory of the beautiful founded upon associations, but the word in this connection refers to suggestions of certain qualities more or less abstract, and not to that kind of association which we recognise in mere relics and such like things. For the former sense, associations constitute the very soul of art, of course it is only with the latter sort that we have any fault to find, and for the present shall use the word in this latter sense.

Associations have had a great deal to do in all architectural revivals. To the scholar, ancient architecture is a record of the condition of things in past ages, a kind of petrified history of nations which have ceased to be; while the artist prizes it only in so far as it is a revelation of truth, as exhibiting to him the operation of the laws of his art. It is rare to find these two characters altogether distinct: the learned man with an extensive knowledge of history, may at the same time know something of art, and so with the artist in the same way; and thus, each according to the extent of his knowledge of the two kinds may derive a double pleasure from his observations. But, as reproductions do not supply the place of originals, it will be readily perceived that there is a very wide difference, between the emotions produced by looking at the veritable remains of ancient art, and the modern imitation of these. In the old works there are, besides the general leading features, the purposes of which are easily recognised, numerous little peculiarities; traces perhaps of individual thought, accidents of construction, adaptation to circumstances and the like, which no honest architect would think for a moment of copying, and so in the modern work, we recognise the general resemblance, but everything is quite palpable and purpose like, there is no mystery, nothing to interest. If we observe anything peculiar, the chances are that it is some shortcoming, very likely some contrivance to save expense; or some stupid blunder that is only too apparent, and instead of exciting any interest it is simply a cause of offence.

When the Gothic system, which in its rising strength had trampled in the dust the faded glories of the old world, began in its turn to exhibit symptoms of decay; the revival of ancient learning was on the other hand slowly and surely working its way towards producing a total change. Men rose from the study of ancient literature, and saw the same great spirit in the hitherto neglected remains of Greek art, which lay scattered about, amongst the ruins of Rome and other Italian Cities; a mutilated fragment perhaps attracted the notice of a carver of images, and made him a sculptor, and ever and anon as his mind expanded, he discovered new beauties in his model, and more deplorable shortcomings in his own work. Painting also began to breathe the new life, and these, when applied to the now emaciated architecture of the time, exposed its poverty, and hurried it to its doom.

A style of Architecture founded upon the Grecio-Roman, was called into existence, as being more in harmony with the revived sculpture and painting, and also more in accordance with the whole condition of things which the recurrence to ancient modes of thought had brought about, and it must also be admitted, strongly flavoured with the prevailing licentiousness of the period. But the Sculptor and the Architect, having many ancient examples to refer to, which, with their limited knowledge they could not improve upon, contented themselves more or less with copying, as far as circumstances would permit; whereas the painter, in the absence of examples, had to translate the knowledge which he acquired from the ancients into an entirely new form, and so carried his art to perhaps a higher degree of perfectness than had ever before been attained. Even the great mind of Michael Angelo failed to impress itself upon the architectural forms which he employed, and architecture continued to labour under the power of precedents and associations down to our own day.

The more recent revival of Greek Architecture was still more lavish, for because it was more precise, and therefore more easily copied, it was also much more profound, and consequently more difficult to master, at the same time it brought along with it a multitude of associations, which, above all others, were clear to the classical scholar, and therefore the most careful adherence to the originals was imperatively enjoined and insisted upon. Whilst we have to deplore many grievous failures, it is gratifying to find that not a few noble examples of reproduction in this style may be seen, forming a striking contrast with the ordinary buildings, around them. Their majestic forms glowing with a sunny splendour, and looking like enthroned divinities amidst a crowd of common mortals.

This revival was hailed by the learned and thinking classes throughout Europe with the greatest enthusiasm. It struck its roots deeply in many parts of Germany, and when Edinburgh was distinguished above other cities for whatever was profound in philosophy, and elegant in literature, she adopted this style as the fittest expression of the high degree of refinement to which she had attained, and found amongst her own sons, men well qualified to fulfil her desires, and the works which grew up under their hands constitute the chief charm of that beautiful city, and win for it the designation of which she is so justly proud, “The Modern Athens.”

At a later period Liverpool, under the guidance of providence, selected a design in this style for St. George’s Hall,[2] which amongst the numerous erections for a community of enormous wealth, is the only one really worth looking at, and had its youthful Architect been spared, and entrusted with the carrying out of other important works, there are sufficient indications in that splendid structure to show that he would have done much to recast the Architecture of Greece in a modern mould.

London was unfortunate in her choice of men, and consequently does not possess a single good example of the Style. St. Pancras church [3] is the purest, and shows some good points, yet its general treatment is timorous in the extreme. There was no response in the breast of London to the feeble appeals of those frigid effigies of the Parthenon and the Erectheum. And so when the Gothic revival presented itself, aided by the romantic fictions of Scott, it was received with marked favour.

Many of the old churches in Scotland had been ruthlessly destroyed by the English, some by the mistaken zeal of native mobs; whilst others were allowed to fall into decay on account of their unsuitableness to the purposes of her radically reformed religion. In England matters were managed differently. Her reformation was not so much an uprooting as a pruning process, and so her churches were preserved, if not with tender solicitude, at least with a certain degree of prudent care. They were laid under whitewash to hide their grimness, and to make them look as like their stylish sisters of the new mode as possible. And, when the classical revivals had yielded all the fruit that could reasonably be expected of mere revivals of any kind, the recurrence to the Gothic style was easy.

In many of the rural parishes, and many of the towns and cities throughout the country, the old church was still the wonted place of worship. It was surrounded with hallowed memories. It had witnessed the baptisms, the marriages, and the burials, of many generations, and there they had met to hear the message of peace from the lips of the revered Pastor. The aspect of the venerable pile, amidst its clump of trees, and its quaint and grotesque details, were indelibly engraven upon their hearts.

To these associations in the hearts of the people, the romantic writers added historical associations of exciting interest. They urged that it was the natural outgrowth of the natural mind, and spoke to as in a language which all could appreciate. What better therefore could we do than comply with the advice of the old song, “Tak your Auld Cloak aboot ye.” However pleasing it may be to dwell upon these associations, it is clear that they furnish no good reason for our standing still, for if they are to be allowed to have any restraining power over us, they should have restrained also our forefathers back to the very beginning of time. But they furnish a very strong reason indeed for our using our utmost endeavours to preserve the best of what every age has produced, in order that knowledge may be increased from generation to generation, and that the sympathies of all generations may be linked together. For the more we know of the past the farther we will be enabled to look into the future, and the better will our work be for the present time.

The champions of the Gothic revival declared that their style was so free that it could be applied to every good purpose, and that it was capable of endless improvement. But after labouring for fully half a century, what progress have they made? Have they not made it the height of their ambition to realise the very spirit of mediaevalism? And having attained that end, they would fain carry society back with them, and make it resume habits and modes of thought more in harmony with their reproductions than those which we now follow.

There is yet one other obstruction to architectural progress, which I would like to call your attention to before leaving this part of the subject. “That grey-beard loon” [4] the Archaeologist would bind us hard and fast to styles and periods of styles, to original purposes of this, and that member or feature, and “the creatur grins its eldrich lauch” at what, in his self-sufficient opinion is our utter ignorance of, and incapacity to comprehend this all-absorbing subject.

Archaeology is a highly important branch of study, and has thrown much light upon the history of the human race. Indeed the written record is meagre and obscure apart from the corroborative evidence afforded by architectural and other remains that fall under this department of history. The achievements of the Architect, the Sculptor, the Potter, the worker in metal and even the Weaver, have brought us almost face to face with peoples, of whom otherwise we would know but little, and in some instances, nothing whatever. The flint implements of the great caves, arrow heads sticking in the bones of animals long since extinct; the lake-dwellings, the stone circles extending from India to Scotland. The great structures of Central America, belong to races regarding whom we have no other reliable information. Then as to Egypt, Assyria and Persia, India, Greece, Rome, and even our own land in the Middle ages, how little would we know of the habits of their people, but for the researches of the Archaeologist. Yet his true business is with the past. It is for others to turn his labours to account. I could mention if needful many other obstacles scarcely less vexatious, or effectual in barring the way to Architectural progress, which, if added to those already referred to, will sufficiently account for the very unsatisfactory condition we have arrived at. Architecture has all but ceased to be a living art, and the present age is seen making the most ridiculous efforts to insinuate its overgrown person backwards into the empty shells of dead ages which lie scattered about upon the old tide marks of civilisation, rather than take time to secrete a shell for itself in the ordinary course of nature.

If I have directed attention to the true courses of stagnation, it would be the very height of injustice to lay much of the blame at the door of the architects. The public make the architects by what they ask of them, for they must be fed and clothed like other men; and in order to procure the wherewithal they must study the predilections of their clients, and lubricate their passage into favour with all the blandishments of social life. The success of an architect is estimated by the extent of his practice, and not by the degree of artistic knowledge to which he may have attained. Now if all this id wrong, how is it to be put right? The first thing to be done is to sit down and carefully consider the whole question in all its bearings. Think of the necessity of being respectably clothed, both for our own present satisfaction and for the laudable ambition of standing well in the opinion of posterity. Then let us look into the state of our wardrobe, and see whether we have not gone as far as decency will permit in brushing, turning renovating, and patching at our old garments. And if we are satisfied on that point, the next thing to be done is to cast about for the means of procuring a new suit. Is there any prospect?

Look at what our age has achieved in other fields of labour, and the causes which have led to such results. Is there any desire high or low which cannot be gratified less or more by being steadily demanded. There is no lack of energy. There is no lack of opportunity. There is no lack of wealth. In short we have everything but the desire, and in those days when the sources of mental gratification are so eagerly sought after, that man would be a benefactor to his race who should once more awaken that love for architecture which has afforded so much pleasure in past ages, and the products of which, more than any thing else, have been regarded as the truest tests of civilisation. If our thinking men were to consider how utterly worth less and heart contracting are all imitations as compared with any true embodiment of living thought, they would stimulate rather than beat down the early buddings of fresh growth which may from time to time appear. Let them value the suggestions of progress leading upwards into the light of the future, as highly as they do those associations that lead backward into the darkness of the past, esteeming the pleasures of hope at least equal to the pleasures of memory.

As I have already hinted, I believe we are about to see the end of all revivals. The Gothic, which came last, and promised so much, has utterly failed to meet the wants of our advanced state of civilisation. It rejects refinement, shrinks from the society of well bred Sculpture and Painting, and flouts at all modern building improvements. It delights in rudeness, and takes kindly to dirt and ruin. The Law Courts Competition showed the utmost that it could do, and lost to it many in the ranks of thoughtful observers, and on the other hand it is spreading outwards into the skirts of Society, and becoming vulgar.[5] The association illusion has completely disappeared, when we see an embattled college, or a castellated villa, we do not for a moment think of conjuring up for ourselves a mailed Baron sitting in the lobby amongst pikes and guns and bows aye ready. But if it should be past business hours we guess that Mr Smith may be dozing in peace over his halfpenny paper at the side of the Parlour fire.

It is time that we were preparing for the change when Architecture will be judged on on its own merits. For a change of some kind is not only quite practicable but absolutely inevitable. We have hoards of architectural material of all kinds and if we would set ourselves to comprehend them fully we would soon find it as difficult to keep within the rut as hitherto it has been to get out of it. When our wings grow we will fly. I do not expect a new style in the ordinary sense of the word. I expect that when the good time comes every man will have his own style just as our Literary men have. When untrammelled by precedents he will bring all his energies to express his best thoughts. He will avail himself of the products of machinery and every contrivance to cheapen and facilitate the spread of correct forms so as to educate the people. Even Mr. Ruskin does not maintain an army of scribes writing and illuminating his books but sends them to the press and has them printed as clearly and readably as possible.

Do not send the costly hammerings, chisellings, and scratchings of the quaint thoughts of your cunning Art-workmen to the cabinets of the rich. But mould, stamp, print, paint, and plaster not in imitation of anything whatever but that the thoughts of our best and most philosophic artists may be brought within the reach of all.

Notes

1. Thomson’s paper on ‘Obstacles and Aids to Architectural Progress’ was read to the Glasgow Architectural Society on 15th March, 1869. Only a summary was printed in the North British Daily Mail for 17th March, 1869, but the full text survives in the volume of typescripts labelled Essays by Alexander Thomson now in the possession of his grand-daughter, Catherine Rentoul.

2. St George’s Hall in Liverpool was designed by Harvey Lonsdale Elmes and built 1841–54.

3. St Pancras New Church was a very expensive work designed by H.W. & W. Inwood and built 1819–22; its vestries were given caryatids modelled on those on the Erectheion, which provided the model for its portico; its steeple is a development of the Temple of the Winds in Athens.

4. “Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!” from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

5. The competition for the new Royal Courts of Justice in the Strand in London had been held in 1865–67. Twelve architects were invited to compete, with Gothic designs being submitted by Scott, G.E. Street, Alfred Waterhouse, William Burges and others. The whole business was notoriously badly conducted and the result – that Street and E.M. Barry be jointly offered the commission – was overturned; in the event, Street was given the job while Waterhouse got the Natural History Museum after the result of the competition for that building – which Thomson had entered with a monumental Grecian design – had been set aside.