Through history, architects have manipulated visual imagery to assist the design process. Such imagery has assumed the form of construction documents, design drawings, analysis and details, various forms of sketches, and images conceived in the mind's eye. The philosopher Richard Wollheim writes that representational seeing involves ‘seeing as’ (1971). It requires foresight and imagination to comprehend a two-dimensional visual image as a three-dimensional inhabitable structure. Since it is economically unfeasible to test a construction full scale, architects depend on substitute media to assist in their visual thinking. Humans are seldom able to imagine a fully formed impression of a complex configuration, such as a building, entirely in the mind. Through visual artifacts, architects can transform, manipulate, and develop architectural concepts in anticipation of future construction. It may, in fact, be through this alteration that architectural ideas find form.
The architectural theoretician Marco Frascari suggests that drawing can guide architects to an understanding of architecture as both constructed and construed, because drawings intrinsically convey theory: ‘Real architectural drawings are not illustrations, but pure expression of architectural thinking.’1 Wolfgang Meisenheimer also explored the role of drawing to examine architectural thinking when he wrote: ‘And the question arises of whether a new, different understanding of architectural drawing, alludes to a new and different understanding of architecture!?’ (1987, p. 119). Meisenheimer's assertion asks if media and method affect design thinking and, therefore, the structures architects create. It is important to consider the inherent potential of representational media to surpass mere communication. This is a vital issue for the study of architectural sketches, and will be contemplated throughout this book.
Images are ever present. Visual stimulus in the commercial realm eliminates the possibility of an ‘innocent eye’ in a contemporary phenomenon the philosopher Richard Kearney calls the ‘culture of the image’ (1988). This overindulgence of imagery suggests the continuous mirror play between imagination and reality in postmodern culture; the image is always in process, subjected to constant reinterpretation. The ambiguous and unfinished qualities of sketches epitomize this notion. Additionally, current interest in architectural design process stems from a belief that process, or sketches as indicative of process, can be viewed as a direct link to inspiration. Although research into Genetic Criticism finds that process may not be altogether linear, it is expressive of design thinking. Appropriately, the discussion of image, its text, and context can be investigated for its influence on the imagination and design process of architects. In this age of extensive computer use and the proliferation of visual stimulus, it is essential that architects question and interpret the media they utilize. By exploring the historical role of sketches as instruments of thinking, commonalities and differences will surface. From these, one may ascertain a definition of architectural sketches and expose their importance in the production of architecture.
This book examines a history of architectural sketches, exploring their physical technique, comparing them to architects’ built work and speculating on how they convey architectural intention in design process. Sketches, inherently different than drawings, illustrate conceptual design thinking through architects’ personal dialogue. Tracing the development and use of sketches by prominent architects reveals them to be instruments for recording, discovering, designing, communicating, visualizing, and evaluating architectural constructs. Such an exploration will provide insight into the role of sketches as mediators for the inception of architecture.
The word ‘drawing’ presents a general term, whereas ‘sketching’ focuses on a specific technique. Both can take the form of an action or object, verb or noun, as each can imply movement. The Oxford English Dictionary defines a sketch as a brief description or outline ‘to give the essential facts or points of, without going into details.’ Sketches document the primary features of something or are considered ‘as preliminary or preparatory to further development’ (1985). Historically, the act of sketching or drawing on paper involves line. At its most basic level, the production of line constitutes making marks with a pointed tool, initiated by movement and force. In reverse, eyes follow a line and with that action the ‘line's potential to suggest motion is basic’ (Lauer, 1979, p. 151). A line, or mark, made with the bodily action of the hands, demonstrates its ability to cause reflective action, as it attracts the human eye to follow it. This cognition spurs associative thoughts, as the line suggests new forms (Lauer, 1979). Much of the ‘motion’ of a sketch comes from the physical action of the hand; in this way, the tool becomes an extension of the body and reflects the human body. James Gibson, the psychologist and philosopher, writes concerning human contact with a drawing and suggests that making marks is both viewed and felt (1979). The ‘gesture’ of this intimate participation with a sketch gives it meaning and individuality.
The control of a hand on the drawing tool yields not a consistent line, but one that is varied, thick or thin. The quality of the mark is important, since individual lines produce association in the minds of architects. Gibson believes, in company with philosophers such as Aristotle, that it is reasonable to suppose that humans can think in terms of images (1982). Conversely, but consistent with his theories of visual perception, there cannot be vision without the cognitive action of thought.
Sketches can be analogous for actions that do not involve a mark on paper. For example, a quick skit by a comedian may be deemed a ‘sketch,’ although it does not involve the mark on a surface. Thus, a sketch may be defined by its preliminary and essential qualities. Sketches may also comprise three-dimensional actions preliminary to architecture, such as the fast ‘sketch’ model, or be conceived of digitally as a wire-frame massing in the computer. In such ways, the intention takes precedence over the media. How sketches act to assist design thinking designates their value.
As these definitions imply, sketches are notoriously imprecise; valueless physically, and seen as a means to find something or communicate rather than as prized objects in and of themselves. They are usually, but not necessarily, loose and lacking in detail. Some architects make simple but precise diagrams, while others may use sketches purely for communication with other architects or the client. Whatever technical method an architect employs, they all touch, if ever so briefly, on a period of conception where the design is in its beginning stages, made up of tentative and incomplete thoughts.
The medium (pencil, clay, charcoal, computer, etc.) is not as important in defining a sketch, as its relative function in the design process. Many architects use charcoal or soft pencils to emphasize line, and make the drawing expressive yet vague enough to allow for allusions and analogies. Some architects employ inexpensive tracing paper to sketch quickly, still others draw preliminary studies slowly on expensive paper. Some diagram in the fashion of the parti and others carefully redraw a known building to deform or transform its image. The varied media and techniques used to sketch may complicate a definition of these images. It is more important to consider their use as conveyors of likeness.
As representations, sketches act as substitutes for mental impressions. This is important to architectural sketching as a creative endeavor, because not knowing how mental impressions originated leads creative people to proclaim that such impressions came from the imagination. Imagination represents objects that are absent from view, can be used to change or interpret that which has been observed, or can recognize and reuse items which are known (Warnock, 1976). The implication for architects when conceptualizing a potential design becomes evident. Creative inspiration may be credited to an expanded associative capacity of certain individuals, or it may be attributed to magic or divine intervention. Whatever the case, the imagination encourages speculation because the images in the mind and on paper can assume any possibility (Casey, 1976).
Architects contain within themselves the experiences and faculties necessary to interact with this visual stimulus, because the act of sketching is in some ways dependent upon memory. Thoughts, images, and experiences – all part of the architect's whole being – determine what the sketch will be. Body memory, interpretation, and even specific items that are retained in memory over other experiences, influence what the architect sketches. The architectural theoretician Robin Evans retells the mythological origins of drawing when he describes Diboutades tracing the shadow outline of her departing lover's profile on a wall (1986). For Diboutades the outline acted as a memory device to remind her of the absent person. Similarly, drawing and sketching for architects depends upon a relative amount of likeness, a visual imagery that conveys conceptual comparison. Such resemblance connotes an indication for associative memory, suggesting architectural sketches do not depend upon a ‘faithful picture.’ Both as a method for retaining information and thoughts, and as a medium for inspiration and transformation, sketches constitute a personal dialogue for each architect.
Sketches may acquire various physical shapes, but their similarities lie in how and why they are utilized and trusted by architects. Stemming from their relationship to function, it is necessary to expand their definition by treating them as illustrative of their use in the design process. Architects often employ sketches for conceptual design to discover or attain knowledge, to accompany brainstorming, and to find allusions or associations. The sketch can become the medium to express emotional or poetic concepts.
Architects also use sketches to record important events or ideas for later use. These notations may be travel companions to aid in visual recollection or to register an emotion or thought. Architects often employ sketches to visually test abstract conceptual forms. They may be used to ‘try something out for fit’ as a type of evaluation. Similarly, sketches may help to finalize the formation of a mental image as a method to visualize an undefined direction. Most architects draw to see and understand, whether it is an observation of perceptual stimulus or from a mental impression conjured up by imagination. The Italian architect Carlo Scarpa expresses this concept well: ‘I want to see things, that's all I really trust. I want to see, and that's why I draw. I can see an image only if I draw it’ (Dal Co, 1984, p. 242).
Since perception has little resemblance to a drawn image, it may be possible to ask if a drawn illusion can promote understanding. This suggests how sketching equates with the cognitive act of seeing. The sketch can portray a mode of comprehension as the philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty expresses when discussing Paul Klee and Henri Matisse: ‘The line no longer imitates the visible; it “renders visible”; it is the blueprint of a genesis of things’ (1964, p. 183). ‘Rendering visible’ implies an understanding deeper than an illusion. This may be a distinct feature of sketches that are often incomplete and vague. Again, this is evidence of the sketch's role in ‘seeing’ as understanding. The architect's mind must be able to immerse itself in the making (Gibson, 1982). The sketch facilitates a form of visualization; specifically making physical a conceptual impression. It cannot be denied that sketches are affected by the memories and imagination of each architect, as experiences and individual traits color the techniques and products of these actions.
The sketch, for an architect, may allow for the discovery of a concept at the beginning of a project; however, they can be employed in all stages of the design process, even as an observational recording long after the building is constructed. In early stages, an architect's imagination is open to many possibilities; no potentiality is ruled out (Casey, 1976). These options might be fragmented and vague, but they begin a thinking process, as this first sketch often must be drawn with great speed to capture the rapid flashes of mental stimulation. Werner Oechslin feels the sketch is the appropriate medium for design: ‘The sketch is ideally suited for capturing the fleetingness of an idea’ (1982, p. 103). If the sketch itself is a brief outline, then it may, in fact, reflect the brief thoughts of the mind.
Artists’ and architects’ sketches maintain some similarities but are intentionally very different. Displaying the physical qualities that convey observational likeness, artists use sketches as artistic expression, where they act as preliminary to two-dimensional finished drawings or paintings or represent a completed entity. Sculptors employ sketches as preliminary thoughts for three-dimensional artifacts. Conversely, architects very seldom consider sketches as a final product. They are primarily intended to envision a future building. Robin Evans succinctly states this function of architectural drawings when he writes that images ‘precede the act of building’ (Blau and Kaufman, 1989, p. 21). Like artists’ sketches, they may function to sway public opinion or promote theoretical argument. In most cases, sketches are a personal exploration unlike the conventions of construction drawings, without precise meaning and often destroyed upon the completion of the building.
This study makes use of, but is not based in, iconology since architectural sketching is not strictly a symbolic art. The meanings acquired with combinations of lines often are distinctly personal to the architect. Although they may contain a few conventions of architectural communication, these sketches cannot be ‘read’ for specific universal meaning (Evans, 1986). They are not visual ‘shorthand’ and do not directly equate the visual with the verbal. Shorthand suggests a foundation in symbols that have acquired known and culturally accepted meanings. It is not necessary that these sketches be comprehended by anyone except the architect, and while they can be attractive, their beauty need not be questioned. As architectural representations their physical appearance is irrelevant. They are valued for qualities other than their beauty. Ambiguous and tentative, they easily carry emotions and subtleties of illusion and allusion. The look of the sketch is not as important as the role it plays in the design process.
Architects depend upon sketches as the medium for the creative process they employ to conceptualize architecture. Since they are easily transformable images, they play a major role in architectural thinking; they form and deform architectural ideas. This flexibility affects architectural understanding, and the comprehension requires reflection and translation. Sketches are the visual manifestation of character or attitude that allows the transformation of a physical object or concept into another dimension or media. Exploring the representational qualities of sketches discloses the tangible and intangible aspects that make them fundamental in any process of design. Illustrative of this sentiment Filarete, the Renaissance architect, describes their importance: ‘Execution teaches many things and everything cannot be fully narrated here ... everything that is done by the hand partakes of drawing ... it is an unknown and little appreciated science. You would do very well to learn it, for it would acquaint you with a thousand delights’ (1965, pp. 82 and 149).
It is appropriate now to present the method of approach to this collection of architects’ sketches. The subject matter is visual; meaning, the observation and interpretation of marks on a page. Sketches are unique. They may have complex meanings and various techniques. They comprise a compilation of forms standing for an object or thought as a representation, which does not necessarily include a program or statement of intention. Translating these often cryptic marks can be difficult. James Smith Pierce suggests the problem of deciphering intent when examining drawings from the history of art and architecture: ‘If he [the architect] has not set down his purpose in writing and his age has left no substantial body of theoretical writing or criticism to help us gauge his intent, we must follow the traces of his hand preserved in those drawings that are records of his mind and spirit’ (1967, p. 119).
Although architects may write about their theories and philosophies, few can communicate verbally the complexities found in their sketches. They may not be able to translate their visual design experience into words. Important, then, in the interpretation of these sketches are the ideals of the various movements with which each architect is identified; the context, times, and location of their practice; their repertoire of built work; critics’ assessment of their work; and any writings, manifestos, or treatises that reveal their beliefs. Once these materials have been collected and analyzed, meaning can be deduced by inspecting the sketch itself. By concentrating on ‘the traces of the hand’ as the primary text, it becomes possible to discuss issues observed in the physical sketch, and to speculate on both conscious and subconscious intention. Such analysis may contemplate various possibilities, yet may consider only a fragment of the numerous ideas embedded in the sketch. Although most of the sketches included here represent a multifaceted narrative, this discussion touches on one theme to elucidate an insight drawn from each sketch. For example, it is possible to compare a sketch to the corresponding architect's built work; in other cases, the commission or project is unknown. Generally, examining the repertoire of the architect's remaining sketches provides insight into their style, technique, and thought processes. This interpretation is speculative by drawing conclusions based on literary theories, art theory, and observations of the marks they make on a surface.
Each example in this book involves the following: a short biography of the architect, information pertinent to the sketch and the architect's body of work, a discussion of the physical techniques of the sketch, and an exploratory interpretation. It is hoped that the comparison to historical context and the architect's recorded theories will clarify and enrich the reader's understanding of the ‘mind and spirit’ of the physical tracings.
This book is meant to convey a history of architectural sketches. This tells a story of architects’ design images from the Renaissance to contemporary architectural practice. History books and in fact the history of architecture can be relayed through the study of monumental buildings, by following thought as compared to cultural and social events, by comparing differences between regions, or by styles, to mention a few methods. This book can be read as a history of the times, culture, development, styles, and architectural thought manifest in the images architects use for design process. It has been envisioned as a story following a general timeline. As a narrative starting with the Renaissance, it will provide a survey highlighting work by prominent architects revealing developments and paradigm shifts. Compared to a necklace of pearls, the effect can be unified and cohesive. But to extend this analogy, the pearls (the chapters or architects) can also be appreciated individually as vignettes or snapshots of specific movements’ or architects’ influences and techniques.
The history of representation is probably as old as civilization itself. Humans have always attempted to infuse meaning into the objects they observe in nature and the things constructed. The art historian E. H. Gombrich, when discussing the origins of art, writes that humans assembled structures to shelter themselves from elements of nature such as rain, as well as from the spirits that controlled the natural environment (1985). These spiritual forces were equally as potent as the environmental dangers. Gombrich concludes that for these early humans, ‘there is no difference between building and image-making as far as usefulness is concerned’ (1985, p. 20). He suggests that there exists a certain amount of magic involved in representation.
The paintings in the caves of Lascaux in France, or any other wall paintings by indigenous peoples, may have chronicled a successful hunt, told a story of heroism, or acted as a talisman to ensure an equally good hunt the following year. Much of what remains of ancient civilizations are the architectural monuments sturdy enough to stand the test of time. Similarly the temporary materials of most visual communication have been lost, one exception being paintings on the walls of Egyptian structures. As evidenced by these paintings, the Egyptian culture had a tremendous amount of graphic language. Created with pigment on stone and subsequently buried, these communications survived. But one may suppose that this productive culture also inscribed papyrus, wooden pallets and stone or clay tablets to communicate necessary information. The museum of Egyptian archaeology in Barcelona possesses a ‘Representation of the god Imhotep’ from approximately 600 BC. Imhotep, the first recorded architect, who also was deified, has been sculpted holding a roll of papyrus. Knowing he was responsible for the design of much Egyptian architecture, it would be reasonably safe to propose he was carrying architectural drawings. It may be equally rewarding to presume he was pictured with written documents concerning construction.
Some drawing instruments survive from this period. Maya Hambly, writing on the history of drawing tools, acknowledges that a scale rule, a drawing instrument and a form of plan have been located and dated from Babylon, approximately 2000 BC (1988). The architectural historian Spiro Kostof proposes that Egyptian architects used leather and papyrus for record drawings, where ‘sketch-plans were incised on flat flakes of limestone’ called ostraka being the communication on the job site (1977, p. 7). Egyptian builders employed plans and elevations that were obviously diagrammatic outlines and layered drawings indicating spatial relationships. Egyptian painting has displayed plans of gardens, but whether these images were intended as descriptions of a finished site, or as preparation for building, remains difficult to surmise.
Builders in China used silk and paper for architectural drawings (plan and elevation), and drawings cast or etched into bronze exist from the Warring States period (475–221 BC). The Chinese had developed techniques for making paper as early as 100 AD. Making its way to Europe (1100 AD in Morocco and 1151 AD in Spain), this technology arrived in Italy approximately 1256 AD, where linen rags provided the fiber necessary for production. Beginning in the fourteenth century, paper was available in abundance, but it was not until the midnineteenth century that wood pulping expanded its manufacture (Hutter, 1968; Dalley, 1980). Compasses used to construct circles had been employed by the early Egyptians, although they were constructed simply of two hinged metal legs. Mathematical instruments such as astrolabes were developed in the third to sixth century during the rise of Islamic civilization (Hambly, 1988). In the study of vision and light, the Chinese understood that light traveled in parallel and straight paths as early as the fifth century BC (Hammond, 1981). In anticipation of the camera obscura, Mo Ti documented the understanding of an inverted image projected through a pinhole. Comparatively, Arab physicists and mathematicians comprehended the linearity of light in the tenth century (Hammond, 1981). In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, lenses were common, but Roger Bacon has been erroneously credited with invention of the camera obscura. Although not completely documented, it is very possible they were commonly used to observe eclipses of the sun and subsequently transformed into an apparatus for copying.
Greek architects, some of whose names are known, designed temples heavily influenced by tradition. The temples served as templates, precedent models, for subsequent construction (Smith, 2004; Coulton, 1977; Porter, 1979). Additionally, these architects employed three-dimensional paradigma to describe details and syngraphai, written specifications (Hewitt, 1985). Examples of full-scale building details have been found inscribed on a wall of the Temple of Apollo at Didyma (Hambly, 1988). It may be surmised that, with the study of geometry by Euclid, Greek architects utilized geometrical instruments and that builders would have used scale rules and set squares to achieve precision construction (Hambly, 1988). Kostof mentions these anagrapheis/descriptions, but wonders how the refinements in temple design could have been accomplished without drawings. The role of the Roman architect was less immersed in precedent and had a relative amount of autonomy in construction (1977). Vitruvius advocated the implementation of graphia (plan), orthographia (elevation), and scaenographia (perspective) (1934). Hambly states that Romans utilized dividers, set squares, scale rulers and calipers. Although these items were primarily builders’ instruments, ruling pens and styli have been found which may have a more direct relationship to architecture and engineering drawings (1988). Temporary notation involved inscribing a wax tablet with a stylus that could be easily erased with the blunt end of the tool. Working plans and sketches most likely were drawn on temporary materials such as clay tablets (Kostof, 1977).
Although paintings and various types of documents survive from the Middle Ages, very few drawings exist. It has been suggested by the historian Robert Scheller that this dearth of preparatory sketches may be due to the lack of value given to them. They were viewed only as process and consequently destroyed (1995). He also proposes that the media used for sketches and drawings may have been too scarce and expensive for common use. Most probably, artists and architects sketched on whatever materials were available, i.e., wood, stone, or parchment, and as process these have not endured. One example of a clearly architectural drawing dates from approximately 820 to 830 AD. The Plan of St. Gall was drawn on parchment and describes an ideal monastery. Measuring 113cm vertically and 78cm horizontally, this drawing indicates the spatial relationships of buildings within a compound. Substantially schematic, the plan has been arranged on a grid, drawn in both red and black ink, with single lines to represent doors and columns (Price, 1982).
Far more common were the model and pattern books of medieval architects. Guild books (or lodge books) recorded methods of construction and architectural theory for use by the building trades. Largely practical, they characterized Gothic building practices (Bucher, 1979). These books were organized into categories of theory, figure drawing, and carpentry. They served the lodge members, and the lodge itself was the repository for this inherited knowledge. A preserved sketchbook by Villard de Honnecourt displays the value these types of pattern books had for medieval architects. They accompanied the architects on journeys, retained visual notes and acted as professional licensure to prove the bearer's skills and represent their interests as they were searching for employment. De Honnecourt's sketchbook chronicled framing drawings, patterns for details and ornament, construction methods, elevations, plans, and patterns for tracery (Bucher, 1979). The sketches date from the early 1200s and are drawn on parchment in graphite, scored, and filled with ink. The Dictionary of Architecture from 1892 indicates that drawings on parchment delineating ground plans and elevations exist from the eleventh century, although these may not resemble the scale and articulation expected from contemporary architectural drawings. The architects of the Middle Ages were craftsmen, refining the cathedral image primarily without the use of visual representation. Large incisions have been found on many of the walls of these cathedrals, most likely functioning as templates for details such as tracery (Kostof, 1977). Architectural drawings prior to the Renaissance were not common, and architects/builders did not conceive of the building in its entirety before construction. Rather, buildings such as cathedrals were a process of experimentation on the site: ‘Projecting the geometric physiognomy of a building or city was a prophetic act, a form of conjuring and divining, not merely the personal will of the author. Architectural drawings, therefore, could not be conceived as neutral artifacts that might be transcribed unambiguously into buildings’ (Péréz-Gomez and Pelletier, 1997, p. 9).
Although few sketches with architectural themes have been retained from this period, one may speculate that proportions or geometries, as well as construction details, were sketched to communicate conceptual propositions. It would have been difficult to convey intention without some form of visual description. Drawings may not have been preserved, perhaps, because they were later reused for recording – such as the text on the back of the St. Gall plan. Possibly, they were destroyed when their usefulness was complete, or by the architectural guilds in an attempt to keep their building practices secret (Kostof, 1977). From the practice of hand-copying religious texts, sketches appear in the margins of illuminated manuscripts from medieval monasteries. Acting as illustrations to further elucidate biblical narrative, the margins allowed enough space for small decorations of ink and paint. These visual musings occasionally acted as rude commentary in contrast to the serious text. As decorative doodlings and caricatures, they were freehand sketches often in the genres of political satire or comic relief (Randall, 1966).
Artists of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries were moving towards a sense of pictorial realism. These artists, refining religious icons, had little need for a theory of perspective. The Japanese painters and printmakers, attempting a three-dimensional view devised a language of perspective where objects further in the background were zigzagged higher onto the page. Similarly, medieval perspective indicated objects in the distance be rendered higher in the frame of the painting. Although without mathematical accuracy, these artists located the onlooker's position and used architectural elements such as niches to create an illusion of three-dimensional space (White, 1972).
Many inventions and developments in drawing and painting surfaced during the fifteenth century. Filippo Brunelleschi has been credited with the rediscovery of rules for ‘constructed’ perspective rendering in 1420 (White, 1972; Péréz-Gomez and Pelletier, 1997). These architects (primarily Brunelleschi and Leon Battista Alberti) became attracted to this study because they believed that in using architectural themes they were able to beguile the somewhat magical aspects of geometry and proportion into perspective depth in painting (Péréz-Gomez and Pelletier, 1997). Perspective aids such as simple frames divided into squares were employed in the early 1400s (Hambly, 1988). Alberti used a show or perspective box and invented an apparatus for constructing perspectives using strings. The camera obscura, possibly in common use, reflected an object through a lens onto a slanted mirror. Projected onto a drawing surface, and reduced in size, the image could then be traced (Hutter, 1968; Dalley, 1980; Hammond, 1981). Artists and painters used such tools and instruments to represent the world around them, but they were also able to use similar techniques to envision the future. For various reasons a history of architectural sketches really begins with the artists and architects of the Renaissance.
There are several explanations as to why very few architectural sketches, and drawings in general, have been found that date from before the fifteenth century. There is not a simple answer to this question, but rather numerous factors that affected the proliferation and subsequent retention of sketches beginning with the Renaissance.
The political and economic climate of Italy in the cinquecento formed a stable and intellectual society. The region of Tuscany had experienced growth in population accompanied by economic prosperity. The government required literate representatives, and international trade fostered an educated and cultured populace. These wealthy patricians became patrons of the arts. The Catholic Church began a building program that continued to support artists and architects for centuries (Allsopp, 1959; Benevolo, 1978; Wittkower, 1980).
With this wealth came a refined worldview. Development in goods and services, some from around the world, encouraged expeditions between the continents, scientific exploration of the heavens, discoveries concerning instruments for navigation and astronomy, the printing press, and advancements in social reform. This period of relative enlightenment – of humanism – emerged primarily in Europe (Wittkower, 1949). It was reflected in the East with independent developments as well as reciprocal exchange of ideas.
In Italy, with a break from the perceived ‘dark ages,’ the emergence of humanism brought the development of rational thought, which did not rely on strict Christian traditions. Still deeply religious, these artists and architects interested in humanism viewed the sketch as a direct vehicle of inspiration (Gordon, 1975). Richard Kearney describes how this was a change from beliefs in the Middle Ages. He writes that medieval ‘imagination was essentially interpreted as a mimetic activity – that is, as a secondhand reflection of some “original” source of meaning which resides beyond man’ (1988, p. 115). Attitudes had changed celebrating the individual and the power of reason during this period of rediscovered classical civilization (Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986). Leonardo da Vinci, for example, explored nature with an empirical approach, and his curious mind engaged in speculation. This creativity was human-inspired, rather than directed by God or a blatant imitation of nature. Significance was attached to a work of art by credit being given to the artist or architect. Independent of the communication of religion, the work of art could stand on its own – it was no longer merely an extension of magic or ritual (Kris and Kurz, 1979).
This time period also initiated the academic tradition and the workshops prompting the interdisciplinary practice of designo (Barasch, 1985). Designo can be described as the visual expression that gives shape to an artistic concept. A definition by Renaissance biographer and theoretician Giorgio Vasari from his 1568 Lives of the Artists describes the cognitive action of a sketch as the physical manifestation of thinking: ‘[T]he Idea of perfect form comes to the individual artist from experience and long practice; the ability to discern the Idea and then the skill to represent it accurately are both essential for disegno’ (Currie, 1998, p. 138). The concept of designo as interpreted by Aristotle referred to the actions anticipating the work of art (Barzman, 2000). Vasari associated the concept with both drawing and theory, suggesting that it developed from the intellect. Karen-edis Barzman equates disegno to the figures of geometry, because it involves the abstraction of natural bodies revealing universal truths. In this way, the connection to theory surfaces and consequently, the artist understands the ‘why’ of their art. These developments helped initiate the activity of sketching during the Renaissance, but they represent only part of the story.
Discoveries and developments in science, the availability of paper and the desire to graphically calculate geometry and proportions encouraged the architect's hand pertaining to architectural sketches. An attitude about science and philosophy spurred questioning among learned people. Experiments such as those by Sir Isaac Newton in the fourteenth century required precise instrumentation, as did surveying and engineering construction. The earth was no longer at the center of the universe, and writings by Copernicus and other astronomers necessitated diagrams and various forms of recording. Machines, such as clocks, contributed to this interest in the philosophical and natural world. The visual calculations of algebra and geometry proliferated as knowledge was shared. This resulted in attitudes engaging visual speculation and exploration of the unknown or newly proposed. These occurrences invariably affected and enhanced the visual speculation of architectural sketches at the threshold of the profession.
The building techniques and the practice of architecture affected the development of sketches for Renaissance architects. When the writings by Vitruvius were rediscovered (he had been known in the Middle Ages but was rediscovered as interest was revived), architects of the Renaissance had a model for practice (Kostof, 1977). Vitruvius had paired theory with practice, the knowledge of building and the ability to understand why. He advocated the architect as scholar, understanding art and culture, and the activities necessary to architecture such as law, music/acoustics, astronomy, and philosophy (Vitruvius, 1934). As a person of science the architect could maintain theoretical knowledge of proportion and perspective (Kostof, 1977). Thus, these architects needed to acquire an education by sketching directly from antiquity. In Spiro Kostof 's book The Architect, Leopold Ettlinger explains how the Renaissance architects engaged drawings (1977). They employed drawings to record the physical shapes of the artifacts, to measure and calculate proportions, to explore building construction and to represent these buildings in drawing form. The desire to record what they observed made the sketch invaluable as an extension of the pattern books of the Middle Ages. Although architects were not organized into guilds, the prestige of the architect was elevated. They were responsible for the work on the site and could choose the craftsmen. These architects clearly used drawing to conceive of the designs for their architecture. The early Renaissance architect Sanzio Rapheal advocated the use of two types of architectural projection: plans and elevations (Kostof, 1977). Drawings that remain from the Renaissance include plans, elevations, sections, perspectives, both conceptually describing early ideas and exploring a tremendous quantity of details. It is difficult, however, to trace drawings through the construction process which puts their use on the site or their role as construction documents into question. Ettlinger speculates that these drawings (especially of antique details) served to inform builders of a new paradigm for construction. The functions of sketches are more obvious as they act to show how these architects conceived and tested ideas. Depending less on traditions, having control over the construction process, and convincing their patron of the project before construction began encouraged architects to include sketches in their vocabulary.
Giorgio Vasari certainly had a role in the retention of architectural sketches during the Renaissance. Vasari believed in the relationship between the architectural inception and the sketch. The sketch, as the best example of architectural expression, became associated in value with the individual architect. Vasari, perceiving this relationship, began collecting architectural sketches. He gave mythological stature to these Renaissance architects with his publication The Lives of the Artists. Ernst Kris and Otto Kurz discuss the ascension of artists and architects to mythical status. They write that while the Middle Ages respected craftsmanship, the Renaissance viewed beauty in the unfinished remnants of inspiration: 'The Cinquecento no longer regarded the imitation of nature as the acme of artistic achievement, but rather viewed “invention” as its foremost aim' (1979, p. 47). The artists and architects who revealed these traits in their sketches came to epitomize the title of divino artista. Myths regarding their innate talents abounded, stressing their natural skills (Kris and Kurz, 1979). Such heroic architects were worshipped for their genius, and the value of work coming directly from their hands increased. This enhanced status of these artists and architects, and assisted in the retention of sketches, subsequently affecting the number that have been retained and held in archives through the years.
All of these factors attributed to the growing use of sketches and the general respect for evidence of inspiration and invention. The notion of architectural sketching was less practiced and respected in the periods prior to the Renaissance for various reasons. Sketches were not required since much architecture was envisioned by the Church who retained the templates of construction allowing only minor variations. These master builders were viewed as agents of God governed by the traditions of their guilds. In the years preceding the fifteenth century, these generations of craftsmen found little need to sketch and any sketches and drawings were inclined to consist of documents copying existing solutions. The few sketches that do exist appear minimal, diagrammatic, consisting of plan and elevation, and most likely were used for details or to communicate accepted construction methods. They show restraint and provide only the most pertinent information. In contrast, the creative building expansion spurred by Humanism and the relative economic stability encouraged the Renaissance architects to recognize the value of individual inspiration, and trust in their own imaginations and the images formed by their hands. Although retaining strong beliefs in God, these architects took responsibility for their actions and challenged themselves to new heights of aesthetic exploration. Certainly the availability of sketching media and the desire to explore and understand the constructions of antiquity rendered sketches more acceptable and plentiful.
Sketches by architects of the Renaissance and later reveal more fluid lines, extensive exploration of alternatives, plans, sections, and elevations rendered with detail along with use of three-dimensional views. These sketches often fill the page and overlap in the exuberance of design thinking. They are less self-conscious as they often leave mistakes, utilize expressive lines, and employ these images to attain knowledge about and understand the world around them.
Although similar developments in science, technology, and art were occurring in various parts of the world, other events kept architects from using or retaining sketches. Much of the Americas, Africa and Australia had not yet moved beyond nomadic tribes or the evolution of traditional vernacular architecture by the time of the Italian Renaissance. The Aztec civilization of Mexico built monuments and extensive urban structures. Laid out with geometry and precision, they must have developed extensive measuring systems. To document their work, the Aztecs utilized a form of amate fiber paper. Designing in the brief time period of approximately 1200–1400 AD, these builders devised combination drawings of plans and elevations, and represented scenes in a believable semblance of perspective (Serrato-Combe, 2001). Expansive ground drawings scar the mountains of Peru, but their use (and the tools for conceiving and executing such enormous drawings) is a matter of speculation (Kostof, 1985). The arrival of the Spanish erased much of this civilization and replaced it with European style; so very few of these artifacts remain.
The Chinese and Japanese built sophisticated architecture that depended upon strict rules pertaining to tradition and religious practices. This tight control of architectural expression limited the need for drawings and particularly sketches, although the arts of drawing and painting were tremendously refined. A descendant of vernacular type, the tearoom was developed as a style in Japan during the Tensho era, 1573–1592 AD. Much of the tearoom design has been attributed to the tea master Sen no Rikyu, celebrating a sense of space in Japanese architecture (Stewart, 1987). Drawings from Asia show representation of architecture that may be primarily pictorial. Sketches as conceptually exploring architectural intention are less common.
As a result of travel during the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, imperialism affected the styles of architecture around the world. Originating primarily from Europe, the influence of the baroque and neoclassical styles appeared throughout the world. Without a developed architectural identity, the newly formed United States looked to Europe for models. The profession of architecture in the United States was not organized until the late 1800s. Builders and laymen copied buildings, prior to this time, from pattern books; therefore, sketches were not needed.
Many forces united to create an attitude toward sketching that suggested the individuality of the architect and the ability to provoke imagination as a creative endeavor. While most pre-Renaissance buildings contained some level of visual communication as part of the design process, little of this evidence remains. This fact may question whether the sketches were used to envision the project in its entirety before construction as may be expected of the profession. In cases where sketches convey less tangible information than solely recording or communicating, they inherently act as remnants of design process.
Drawings, although they are part of the construction process, do not always reveal the imaginative inspiration. Again, Wolfgang Meisenheimer expresses the emotion and allusions involved when a sketch tries to speak in terms of the undefinable. He writes about poetic drawings that embody the 'traces of the memory and the dreams of the drawer, outbreaks of temperament and wit, provocations of the observer, riddles, vague evocations or gestures of philosophical thesis . . . The transferals and interpretations which result from them move on all possible levels' (1987, p. 111). Thus the sketch, as a thinking instrument, carries the individual dialogue requiring the associative reflections that encourage interpretation and manipulation. The initiation and implementation of sketches into design process required an altered philosophical attitude making the Cinquecento a Renaissance for sketches as well as cultural thought.
This book begins with Renaissance sketches as a philosophical point of departure. Once identified as a means to visualize concepts, the use of sketches never waned. Although their uses developed at different times and in various forms around the world, they were used less or not at all in the construction of vernacular architecture. The story of the sketch extends from the perspective of Western Europe where their use was more prominent in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries with baroque, French classicism, rococo and eighteenth century neoclassicism. The sketches from these periods reflect both the 'style' of the buildings and prevalent media for image manipulation. In general, they extensively used graphite, ink, and wash, with fluid strokes exhibiting the architect's great dexterity. The nineteenth century and early twentieth century movements in architecture expand to various parts of the world including parts of Asia and North America. Many of these sketches demonstrate the political, economic, and social climate of the world. The media had not changed remarkably but their manifestation was dramatically varied by individual architect, especially considering the ideological and polemical movements of the era. Modern architecture expanded into the International Style and, as the name implies, spread around the world with numerous cultural variations. The representative sketches reflect the stark geometric forms with ruled sketches in orthographic and axonometric projection.
The chapters have been organized chronologically, beginning with the architects of the Renaissance. Examples depend upon the availability of sketches, the prominence of the architect, representative examples of the architect's work, and finally sketches that display an interpretive premise for theoretical exploration. The illustrative examples have been arranged chronologically by the date of the architect's death. When trying to categorize the sketches and their architects into periods, it was realized that some architects span several movements in architectural theory, and clearly defy categories. For these reasons, the groupings follow a loose timeline.
Each chapter begins with an introduction to the period, general social and political climate, ideals of the movements and/or architectural thought of the period, the tools and technologies available, and a brief survey of the education (or state of the profession) of the included architects. Also discussed is any similarity in technique or function of the sketches.
As a preamble to a discussion of architectural sketches it is important first to examine the compilation process for this collection of sketches. From the inception of this project the thesis was to present a historical survey of prominent architects using sketches as indicative of their design thinking. The selection of architects and sketches to include has been a difficult task requiring the consideration of numerous factors. The choice of architects relied on the availability of appropriate sketches and their interesting or unusual approaches to sketching as a process of design. This study included how the context, subject matter and physical look of the sketches may have affected an architect's repertoire of built work. These factors were revealed through exploring the media used, and how techniques facilitated and expressed the architects' intention.
The process of selecting the images to be discussed, either from direct observation in an archive or inspection of published sketches, involved evaluating the specific sketches considering a diversity of style and theme to be presented. Of primary concern was the attempt to locate sketches with a variety of techniques and content to present a wide range of approaches. Subsequently a sketch example from each architect was chosen because it epitomized the style or 'hand' of that architect. These conclusions were reached after inspecting as many examples as possible. Most sketches were chosen because they displayed a theory or reasoning inherently expressed in their form or technique. This meant attempting to locate a revelation or understanding of what that architect was thinking as manifest in the sketches. Also important was the uniqueness of the use, a direct link to a specific building or a connection to a feature in the architect's repertoire evident in the handling, such as smudges, pinpricks, erasures, circling of the sketches, eliminating by crossing out unwanted images or the drawing over specific areas for emphasis. With many of the sketches, this process began with observing the original sketches in an archival setting. Viewing the artifact firsthand revealed unique elements of process such as marks showing through from the reverse side of the paper, distinctive texture of the paper or fine guidelines difficult to view in photographs. Some sketches have been previously published and invariably represent the best examples of that architect's work available.
One of the major factors in choosing which sketches to include involved the availability of the collections. Some sketches obviously were chosen because all others had been destroyed for various reasons, such as the limited collection of sketches by Antonio Gaudi and the few ornament sketches saved by Louis Sullivan. Other architects such as Le Corbusier and Erich Mendelsohn meticulously reserved evidence of their beginning conceptual thoughts, and in these instances the selection was daunting because of the great number of existing sketches. These examples may reflect an attitude toward sketches. Some architects viewed the remnants of the process as valueless or, conversely, as a valuable artifact embodying their creative inspiration.
Another concern when selecting the sketches was the consideration for those that would reproduce well in publication. Numerous sketches that were considered exhibited brief beginnings, with only a few lines on a page, where the architect presumably rejected them for a fresh start. Comprising personal dialogue, the architects did not consider the images' beauty or communication qualities to anyone but themselves. Thus many of these sketches defy interpretation because of their briefness. An attempt was made to balance the number of sketches within the periods but also increase the number of examples in periods where sketches were more accessible. The techniques of the sketches by architects from within architectural movements are not necessarily visually consistent, because they each represent individual styles, commissions, themes and functions.
All of the sketches published in this collection are 'attributed to' the specific architect named by the various archives, unless otherwise mentioned. Authorship of the work has been reasonably determined from a combination of art dealers, collection donators and researchers. Although many of the sketches chosen for this collection have never been referenced in publication, it was possible to view numerous examples of an architect's technique and style of drawing to feel confident in the attributions of authorship. Sketches were avoided where authorship appeared doubtful specifically those that may have been rendered by a partner or apprentice. In archives around the world, there are many sketches 'in the school of ' which may never divulge the hand that made them. In the case of Renaissance artist's sketches there is always the possibility that the images were drawn by an assistant in the workshop, as apprentices were regularly encouraged to copy the work of the master. However, with architectural sketches there may be less mistaken identification than with completed drawings. This may be partially because a less prominent architect could copy or render a famous professional's architectural 'style' or imitate a construction rendering, but sketches are unique conceptual thinking and thus difficult to reproduce. In this way, sketches can be perceived as more distinctively individual as compared to completed drawings that utilize conventional methods of representation. As an essence of thinking they are quick, expressive and unique to the individual architects and it is these traits that render them difficult to falsify. The act of miscrediting architectural sketches may stem from the melding of collections by several architects such as the case of John Webb having inherited sketches by both Palladio and Inigo Jones. The instances where architects were in partnership or a sketch is substantially brief may also make identifying authorship more complex. The most important aspect of this argument asserts that most architects felt that their sketches were part of a process and valueless compared to the built structure, consequently there has been little motive to claim false authorship. The problem was usually not intentional falsification but concerns the many images that have been separated from, or sold individually out of, collections.
An effort was made to obtain sketches by prominent architects through history and from around the world. As a history of architectural sketches, this collection focuses less on the architect's whole body of work, important accomplishments or theories, but rather targets the sketch as an artifact remaining as evidence of a place in history and as evidence of an architect's individual expression. The sketches were selected to represent a variety of styles, an array of media uses and a range of functions, for example sketches acting as travel companions, sketches entreated to contemplate construction details or sketches conjured to assist first conceptual inspiration. Primary importance involved the speculation about meaning for these architects in a process of design intention and to provide insight into the evolution of architectural sketches through history.
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