CHAPTER 3
NEOCLASSICAL, NEOGOTHIC, BEAUX-ARTS (1750–1870)
The neoclassical movement cannot be viewed as a universally consistent doctrine that dominated a specific location. Not easily definable, it was prevalent throughout Europe and extended abroad to places such as the United States and Asia. This new (and renewed) view of antiquity was subject to extensive and varied interpretation, from archaeological neoclassical, neogothic, visionary/revolutionary neoclassical, English neo-palladianism, and Greek and Roman revivals. Although an extension of methods developed in the Renaissance and baroque, sketching techniques were varied reflecting media and intent. From the academy traditions of the Ecole des Beaux-Arts the concept of esquisse, the sketch as an organizational diagram, emerged.
Most refined in France, neoclassicism emerged out of baroque classical and was substantially transformed from that of the fifteenth century. In reaction to the apparent unrestraint of baroque architecture, neoclassical architects desired a return to what was perceived as the principles of architecture (Broadbent, 1980). Numerous late baroque architects never embarked upon pilgrimages to the antiquities of the south, but in the middle of the eighteenth century, James Stuart and Nicholas Revett traveled to record the antiquities of Greece. Similar versions of their findings were eventually published by Julien-David LeRoy in 1758 (Broadbent, 1980). This renewed view of antiquity, tempered by the rational thought of philosophers such as Decartes and Rousseau, emerged as a ‘static method of design.’ It was exemplified by principles of order, symmetry, and harmony, embodied in a French national style sponsored by the monarchy (Kaufmann, 1955; Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986; Egbert, 1980). This restrained French classicism was partially influenced by the enlightenment ideal of humanity as innocent and rational, harking back to a perceived naïveté of early cultures and the ‘primitive hut’ (Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986; Laugier, 1977).
The architectural historian Joseph Rykwert writes that the ‘classic’ for these philosophers and architects meant both antique and ‘excellent and choice.’ They believed in a unified and natural approach, in the sense of real or genuine (Rykwert, 1980; Broadbent, 1980). As a result of these attitudes, architecture displayed Greek, Roman, or Renaissance detail and/or the use of pure geometric form. Architects were much more prone to be concerned with the building's form than its construction techniques. The beaux-arts taught the conventions of symmetry and experience of the space, but the invariably accepted medium was masonry. The advent of iron as a structural building material, as introduced by Henri Labrouste, meant that architects were required to consider new methods of assembly. An evolution in building materials and construction toward the end of the nineteenth century required those on the site to rethink assembly; but architects also had to consider joints and connections.
This resulted in the production of sketches and drawings to explain and develop these innovations. Exploratory sketches and explicit drawings were required for resolution and clarification. Although architects (up to the middle of the nineteenth century) were still primarily concerned with form and not construction, some semblance of construction drawings appear in France at this time. Although Marc-Antoine Laugier writes about structure in his essay on architecture, he presents his theory in aesthetic terms (Laugier, 1977). Similarly, Eugène-Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc's Dictionnaire raisonné contains a section describing historic masonry construction (Viollet-le-Duc, 1990).
Architectural theory proliferated and was widely distributed, with treatises such as Laugier's Essai sur l'architecture, advocating naturalness, simplicity, elemental geometric forms and lauding Greek architecture; Claude-Nicholas Ledoux's L'Architecture considéré sous le rapport de l'art, des moeur set de la legislation, the first volume in 1804; Colin Campell's Vitruvius Britannicus; and The Castle of Otranto: A Gothic Story by Horace Walpole. These volumes were less about rules for the orders and the consequent methods of drawing, and more about character and the expression of architecture. Two developments of neoclassicism that directly influenced architects’ drawings and sketches were the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, with strong rules for graphic representation, and the polemical fantasy images of the visionary/revolutionary architects such as Claude Nicholas Ledoux and Etienne-Louis Boullée.
SKETCHES; EDUCATION AND DESIGN PROCESS AT THE ECOLE DES BEAUX-ARTS
During the eighteenth century, academies of the arts were prevalent. State sponsored education of architects began in 1671 when Louis XIV's minister, Colbert, formed the Académie Royale d'Architecture with Jacques-Francois Blondel as its chief professor. The pedagogical foundation was built on the concept of ordered schemes and the aesthetic experience of buildings (Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986; Drexler, 1977). As a method to control building for the monarchy, it advocated correct rules of proportion, harmony, order, and symmetry that would insure beauty (Egbert, 1980). After a period of turmoil in the late 1700s the school was transformed into the Ecole des Beaux-Arts. Closed in the late 1960s, the Ecole's method of education evolved; although rendered in various forms its general methods remained constant. A student matriculated the second class after successfully passing an entrance exam, usually a small design project. Students organized their own studios under a practitioner, who was usually an architect holding an association with the Ecole. These ateliers were the primary source of education, although lectures on theory and building assembly were available to the students. Students progressed through the school by acquiring points for placement in design competitions. These competitions consisted of several types – monthly sketch problems, decorative sketch problems, those limited to a space of nine hours, and several more formal competitions culminating in the most coveted competition: the Prix de Rome. One student per year was given this award of a stipend to study in Rome.
The organization of the competitions was particularly important. It was representative of an educational method and the development of drawing conventions. In the short monthly competitions, specific issues such as interior decorative problems were explored. These projects were sketch problems, completed within a limited time. The Prix de Rome, however, was divided into several stages of competition. Although the stages and requirements evolved over the years, a short sketch problem was given to a large number of students, usually thirty, to narrow the field to a group of eight. Each of these remaining contestants, after receiving the program, was sequestered en loge (in a small cell) to prepare a generalized esquisse. This consisted of an organizational parti usually presented in the form of plan, section, and elevation. Embodying the conceptual solution, the parti was compared with the final rendering for consistency. This method forced the students to make decisions quickly and to express themselves clearly to the jurors ranking their solutions. The esquisse was used to quickly visualize the solution, express the character of the building, and compose the page. Although mostly freehand, the esquisse was not the loose first thoughts of a sketch, but a rough rendered drawing that conveyed the essence of the solution. Prior to the esquisse, most students sketched variations of possible organizations called ‘pre-esquisse’ or quick abstract explorations. The esquisse was required to be drawn on opaque paper, although tracing paper could be used for design exploration. The plan, section, and elevation were drawn to scale, and most competitors left time to render these drawings with pale washes. As a generalized concept, the design was not about ornament or detail, but rather the requirements of the program and the arrangement and proportions of spaces and elements (Harbeson, 1927).
The group of eight was ranked and allowed to continue to the next stage of the competition. After submitting their esquisse, the students traced (or in some way recorded) the essentials of their project. They then returned to their respective atelier to elaborate and render the scheme over a period of approximately three months. The formal renderings were submitted in conventional style, using only plan, section, and elevation (Egbert, 1980). The drawings were mechanically constructed abstractions of the building so that they could be easily comprehended by the jurors. The competition system was a way for the students to quickly formulate a solution to a specific program, one that was acceptable and proper according to the theories taught at the school. They were not buildable projects, in that they stressed character, proportion, and composition, with less emphasis on building materials and contemporary technology (Middleton, 1982). Character, originating with the classical tradition in art, was of three kinds: general character, not necessarily connected to the building program, meaning association with historic expression; type character, referring to the building's type; and specific character, ideas arising from each building's distinctive qualities (Egbert, 1980).
The length of attendance at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts was indeterminate. It often took several attempts before a student won the Grande Prix, and the competition was open only to French citizens. Invariably, the winners returned from Rome to careers in royal service. Those who never won the Prix de Rome, as well as the foreigners in attendance, left the school when they felt they had acquired sufficient architectural knowledge to begin practice or to continue their education with an apprenticeship. All of these young architects carried into practice the Ecole's method of both a ‘pre-esquisse’ to find an appropriate parti, and the esquisse, which expressed the essence of the organization. Along with skills in design theory and rendering, these factors affected architects’ process for many years to come.
VISIONARY/REVOLUTIONARY/RADICAL ARCHITECTURE
Emil Kaufmann called the architects Etienne-Louis Boullée, Claude-Nicholas Ledoux, and Jean-Jaques Lequeu revolutionary architects (1952). He was referring not to their political stance but rather to how they expressed the ideals of the great thinkers of their century. Their objectives ‘were the expression of character, the creation of atmosphere, and the division of the composition into independent units’ (Kaufmann, 1952, p. 434). They chose to express themselves through the monumentality of form. Like Laugier, they advocated the paring down of form to basic necessity, a purism that avoided all ornament. It was believed that this simplicity and naturalness resulted in beauty. The work of these architects was distinctly reminiscent of Gian Battista Piranesi's carceri: visions of prisons, ruins, cenotaphs, exaggerated monuments, and public works projects. Ledoux was able to build a few of his designs, such as the Saltworks at Arc-et Senans, but a large portion were disseminated primarily as illustrations for theory books. As paper architecture, these drawings were easily reproduced and distributed; as theoretical endeavors, they carried less functional responsibility.
The visionary/revolutionary architect's theoretical proposals captured dramatic perspective views, intensifying the grandeur of the architecture. Drawing techniques such as eliminating background conveyed a specific message, free of unnecessary details. Ledoux's fantasy architecture consisted of simple geometry and primarily displayed function. He utilized perfect cubes and spheres to describe large and smooth architectural form. Boullée employed atmospheric techniques to provide a context of emotion, but his images lacked environmental context. The massive masonry façades were often represented from a corner with high perspective points. Strong beams of light flooding the interior spaces enhanced the dramatic effect. In contrast, Lequeu imagined decorative follies with an eclectic mix of orders and in various states of ruin. These visionary/revolutionary sketches and drawings as theoretical arguments raise particularly important issues for the study of architects’ media.
MEDIA
Many media and techniques preferred by the neoclassical architects were more refined versions of traditional tools and methods. New media were also continually developing. Paper became steadily more available, especially after the mid-nineteenth century when wood pulping was prevalent. Previously, paper was composed of linen or other rag fibers (Hutter, 1968). Beaux-arts architects regularly traced drawings with translucent paper, a technique they learned as students at the Ecole.
While attending the Ecole des Beaux-Arts it was required that the competition esquisse be completed in ink on opaque paper, and they were commonly articulated with pale gray, green, pink, or brown washes. The final rendered projects, rendu, were presented on extremely large sheets. These pages became ever larger through the years, commonly displaying sections and elevations approximately two meters long. Media such as pen and ink, graphite, watercolor, and wash were commonly used along with brushes, compasses, rulers, and straight-edged guides. Sepia ink was produced near the end of the eighteenth century and became so common that most brown inks were labeled sepia (Hutter, 1968). Charcoal and graphite images were fixed with a solution composed of diluted lacquers and it may be speculated that architects did likewise. Rubber was imported to Europe from India, which facilitated erasing, during the eighteenth century.
Sir John Soane and Karl Friedrich Schinkel commonly sketched in ink, having the patience and skills necessary to control this difficult medium. Although pen and ink required frequent dipping of the quill, the technique may have allowed momentary pauses for contemplation. Marks appear frequently in the margins of their sketches; places to rest a pen in thought. Washes are another definitive medium; since the contrast on the paper was easy to read, they created an instantaneous three-dimensional view that revealed volumetric qualities. Since elevations were easier to proportion and dimension, but lacked the three-dimensional illusion of perspective, washed shadows could imitate a perspective view to some degree. The ink and wash example by Soane indicates this technique.
The sketch by Henri Labrouste, who was trained at the Ecole, reveals early sketch diagram techniques to find compositional direction. Fantasy etchings by Piranesi were developed from archeological investigations, while those by Boullée emanated from an ideological approach. Unsurprisingly, these sketches are quite different from one another. Piranesi's evokes the nervous and dismal qualities of underground spaces while Boullée's sketch argues for an abstract and emotive future.
These architects of the neoclassical period envisioned the future of architecture – on paper – within their own ideological and educational framework.
Piranesi, Giovanni Battista (1720–1778)
Villa of Hadrian: Octagonal room in the Small Baths, Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1994.20, Neg. 258027, 39.4 × 55.3 cm, Red chalk with charcoal
It would be impossible to examine the architectural drawings of the neoclassical period without a discussion of Giovanni Battista Piranesi. Despite his architectural apprenticeship, he may not be viewed as an architect in a strict sense, considering the few commissions attributed to him (Tafuri, 1987). However, he was extremely influential due to his prolific distribution of archaeological, reconstructive, and fantastical architectural etchings, engravings, and sketches distributed throughout Europe. Embracing the inventiveness of baroque illusion, he also defended the return to Roman antiquity.
Piranesi was born near Mestre in 1720. The son of a stonemason, he first worked with his architect uncle Matteo Lucchesi in Venice. Apprenticed to Giovanni Scalfurotto, he also received training as a stage designer. In 1740, he went to Rome as a draughtsman to Marco Foscarini, the Venetian ambassador at the court of the new Pope Benedict XIV (Wilton-Ely, 1978). He traveled to archaeological excavations at Herculaneum and in 1743 he published the series of architectural fantasies Prima Parte dei Architetture e Prospettive (Wilton-Ely, 1993). Piranesi printed his various reconstructions and capriccio such as Opere Varie and Trofei di Ottaviano Augusto and in 1756, following thorough research, four volumes of Antichità Romane (Wilton-Ely, 1993). The popular distribution enjoyed by these texts may be compared to those by Alberti, Palladio, Serlio, and Vitruvius, all several centuries earlier. In his visual statements, Piranesi advocated the practical usage of antiquity combined with skilled archaeological speculation and exaggeration. He was a proponent of Roman antiquity, rather than Greek, and many who have analyzed his work suggest that his images, especially the Carceri (fantasy prisons), display a political and social polemic (Tafuri, 1987; Wilton-Ely, 1978, 1993).
An incredible number of his drawings and prints remain. They range in media from ink and wash sketches to etchings and detailed engravings, and are surprisingly loose and fluid. This sketch (Figure 3.1) was not a preliminary sketch associated with the Carceri, but contains a similar theme – excavated, subterranean, and dominated by a series of large arches. The sketch was drawn on heavy paper using graphite guidelines and studied with brown, waxy crayon.
Both the theme and techniques of this sketch resemble concepts of the grotesque. Although a comprehensive definition of the grotesque may be elusive, the author Geoffrey Harpham writes that contemporary grotesqueries hover between the known and the unknown, and contain elements of ambivalence, deformation, transition, or paradox (1982). These elements become visible in the grotesque as fragmented or jumbled. The underground, excavated, and prison themes of Piranesi's work suggest the early use of the word referring to Grottesche, the ornamental arabesques found in Roman excavations that connote the underground, burial, or secrecy (Harpham, 1982). A description of grotesqueries as being both bizarre and beautiful seems to fit Piranesi's imaginative scenes.
The unfinished qualities, especially where patterned brick above the doors transforms into the underside of arches, help to give this sketch a transitory feeling. Paradoxically, although the scene appears to be underground, it contains light and articulation not usually associated with subterranean space. The quickness of the lines, and the squiggles that resemble figures, reinforce the fragmentation. Similar to the Carceri, this technique lacks any place of stability, and the composition continuously keeps the observer's eyes in motion. Due to the ambiguity of the grotesque, the sketch is not false, but may in fact be real to the extreme; so full of emotion that it allows the observer's imagination to speculate (Harpham, 1982).
Adam, Robert (1728–1792)
House plan and elevation, 1755–1756, Sir John Soane's Museum, Adam Vol. 9/33 verso, 31.1 × 40.5 cm, Pencil and brown ink
Robert Adam was born in Scotland in 1728. His father was an architect, merchant, and primary builder in Edinburgh. Young Adam attended the University of Edinburgh, receiving a classical education, and in 1754 he embarked on the Grand Tour to Italy. There he explored antiquity, studying with and befriending the French architect Jacques Louis Clerisseau and the architect and archaeologist Giovanni Battista Piranesi. This education greatly influenced his approach to architecture and in 1758 he returned to London to practice, with his brother James, until his death in 1792. During their years of practice they completed many domestic projects, a few of the most well known being Luton Hoo in Bedfordshire (1766) and interiors for the houses Syon (1762) and Osterly (1763) (Rykwert, 1985).
The neoclassicism of Robert Adam was founded in archaeology, a method of looking at antiquity from discoveries in Italy. Roman antiquity as the creative impetus was an alternative to the Palladian style practiced in England. Traveling to Rome meant for Adam, and the other architects which embarked on the Grand Tour, that he knew his models well and could reuse the language in his inventive architecture (Kostof, 1985). Particularly known for his interior architecture, Adam made use of neoclassical antiquity in the way he clustered rooms of various geometric shapes, utilized ‘interior columnar screens,’ integrated Etruscan motifs, and employed aspects of sixteenth century Italian Renaissance design, especially in the ‘movement’ or visual rhythm, of classical façades (Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986; King, 1991).
In this sketch (Figure 3.2) one can view a plan and an elevation of a country house. The sketch does not appear to be preparation for a specific building. It is particularly revealing, however, because it shows the intense way that Adam used his sketches as a method of design evaluation. The organization of the plan shows curved arms protruding from a central dome and an entrance screen (reminiscent of the Osterly House) with four rows of paired columns. Each pavilion at the end of the symmetrical arms reveals a different solution, possibly an indication that Adam was trying different forms to see which best fitted his overall concept.
Adam does not erase or cross out rejected forms, but draws over the previous thought; such constant reworking is displayed in the new niches by the dome, the changes in the shape of the porch, the alternatives for the ends of the arms, and the variations of the entrance screen. He was checking and reworking, watching for proportional and spatial qualities as he tried possible solutions. He needed to reinforce the new lines and drew them darker, even using poché on a new wall for emphasis. His interest in neoclassicism shows in his concern for symmetry, yet Adam seems comfortable working each side differently to experiment with variations. For example, he may have extended the arms on the left side of the sketch simply because the paper provided more room to draw. The elevation does not correspond to any version of the plan exactly, which may suggest that it was an aspect of the design process and not a conclusion. It may have acted as a ‘test,’ providing Adam a chance to pause and study the design.
This sketch may have been meant for discovery, as it was not tied to any of Adam's completed work. As many of his later houses were organized with some version of ‘wings,’ notably the Langside House of 1777 and the Jerviston House of 1782. His design for the Gosford House of 1791 also featured a large central dome similar to the one displayed in this sketch, along with paired columns and a dominant pediment over the center space.
Boullée, Etienne-Louis (1728–1799)
Cenotaph, in the shape of a pyramid, 1780–1790, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, Ha 57 FT 6, 4/237 IM.281 Plate 24, 39 × 61.3 cm, Ink and wash
With a similar penchant for drawing illusion as Piranesi, Etienne-Louis Boullée built little but as an educator, theoretician and illustrator, he was a dominant figure in neoclassical visionary/revolutionary architecture.
Boullée's father was the Parisian architect, Louis-Claude Boullée, who encouraged his son's education in architecture and drawing. Continuing his education in 1746, he studied with Boffrand, Lebon, and Le Geay, where he learned the architecture of the French classical tradition. Over the next several years (1768 to 1779) he designed numerous houses such as Pernon, Thun, Brunoy, and Alexandre, and he built or rebuilt Château Tassé at Chaville, Château Chauvri at Montmorency, and Château de Péreux at Nogent-sur-Marne, all in the proximity of Paris. Later in life, Boullée became a member of the Institut de France and was nominated a Professor of the Ecole Centrales (Kaufmann, 1955).
As discussed in the introduction, Boullée, along with Ledoux and Lequeu, have been united under the title of visionary/revolutionary architects. They were attracted to theoretical arguments, which they displayed in their fantastic and monumental illustrations utilizing geometric shape and symbolism. Boullée's fantasy images demonstrate massive, dynamic forms, substantially larger and more impressive than the monuments of Greece and Rome (Kaufmann, 1955).
This drawing (Figure 3.3) portrays a starkly simple pyramid with two unadorned columns, all bathed in stormy modeled light. Although all architectural illustration envisions the future, Boullée's fantasy consciously moves beyond the realm of possibility into a simplicity and scale unrelated to function or technology. Fantasy as a concept evokes the magical and suggests an extended associative capacity, whimsical invention, divination, and the expansive qualities of pure possibility (Casey, 2000). The art historian David Summers writes that during the Renaissance, fantasia was related in meaning to invenzione. Although similar to the term ‘invention,’ its original meaning derives from a technical term from rhetoric. Invenzione was primary in the five-part division of rhetoric, and consisted of ‘… the finding out or selection of topics to be treated, or arguments to be used’ (Gordon, 1975, p. 82). Although viewed from a later period, Boullée represents an interesting connection between creative inspiration and the development of argument.
The fantasies were intended for his architectural treatise Architecture, Essai sur l'art, begun in 1780. In this essay, he wrote about what funerary monuments or cenotaphs meant to him: ‘I cannot conceive of anything more melancholy than a monument consisting of a flat surface, bare and unadorned, made of a light-absorbent material, absolutely stripped of detail, its decorations consisting of a play of shadows, outlined by still deeper shadows’ (Rosenau, 1976, p. 106).
Boullée employed the atmospheric qualities of the wash to create dramatic lighting effects, giving grandeur to the otherwise simple pyramid. He may have been attempting to persuade viewers of his beliefs, subconsciously convincing them of the sketch's possibilities, and of the argument as a theoretical position for architecture. Concerning the use of pyramids as a conscious choice for a theoretical discussion, he said ‘I have given the Pyramid the proportions of an equilateral triangle because it is perfect regularity that gives form its beauty’ (Rosenau, 1976, p. 106). The choice of the mystical shape of the pyramid for his cenotaph obviously connects it to the great society of the Egyptians, encouraging a comparison to the monumentality of his architectural ideals. The character of the atmospheric effect also ‘proves’ his theory by means of emotional seduction, and positions this sketch as a powerful instrument of persuasion.
Latrobe, Benjamin Henry (1764–1820)
US Capitol under construction, seventh set, Maryland Historical Society, 1960.108.1.9.12, August 1806
Benjamin Henry Latrobe introduced the United States to a neoclassical language for monumental building. Born in 1764, in Yorkshire, England, he received a classical education. He attended the University of Leipzig and subsequently traveled throughout the continent, especially in Italy and France. Upon his return to England, he continued his education with the engineer John Smeaton and, later, in an architectural apprenticeship with Samuel Pepys Cockerell. With family connections in the United States, he initially moved to Virginia. Latrobe's first projects in the United States included the Bank of Philadelphia, a Greek revival structure; Sedgeley, a gothic revival house built in 1799; and engineering projects such as the Philadelphia Waterworks pumping station with its strong reference to Ledoux.
Latrobe relocated his practice to Philadelphia and other projects ensued such as the United States Customs House in 1807–1809 and Baltimore Cathedral from 1804 to 1808. As surveyor of public buildings, his most prominent and influential building came with the opportunity to design the Capitol building in Washington, DC. He designed a suitably imposing Pantheon-domed structure with alternating pilasters and windows, a rusticated lower level, and a Roman/Greek temple entrance (Norton, 1977). Sustaining a dialogue with Thomas Jefferson, he also contemplated appropriate architecture for America's emerging political system. He was prepared, with his knowledge of historical revival in Greek, Roman, and gothic styles, at a time when the United States needed public and political identity and was searching for symbols in the form of monuments.
Latrobe was deemed a skilled draughtsman, clearly able to explain his ideas visually (Van Vynckt, 1993). He constantly carried a sketchbook to record his travels, often rendering scenes in watercolor. This image from a sketchbook (Figure 3.4) may have been a travel companion, but it displays the Capitol building under construction. Delineated with a light hand, it appears brief and unfinished. Interestingly, the sketch remains less finished where the building appears less complete. Details of the completed section have been rendered darker and with more precision. Sketchy stacks of building materials, wagons, and temporary tents appear in front of the structure. The sketch contains mostly single lines and describes little context, barring a few brief trees and shrubs in the foreground.
With Latrobe's habit of carrying a sketchbook, the question arises of why architects draw when traveling. They may feel a need to capture a scene as a memory device, or perhaps they wish to analyze an element that is foreign to their experience. Curiously, Latrobe was sketching his own building during construction. One can speculate that he viewed the sketch as an architect's analysis, contemplating how the project was progressing. He may have used the sketch as part of a job survey or as a way to oversee the project's construction. Possibly divided between his roles as construction supervisor and detached observer, he may have absent-mindedly sketched during a free moment. This project, being unarguably his most identifying and most time consuming work, was likely a source of great pride. Consequently, the sketch may have been produced to record its emerging form. It also may represent his habitual technique of observation; a situation where Latrobe was unable to understand the building without drawing.
Since Latrobe was spending most of his time at his practice in Philadelphia, his intent may have been to carry the progress home for his own recollection or to inform someone else – the invention of the photograph was still several years in the future.
Jefferson, Thomas (1743–1826)
Monticello: mountaintop layout (plan), Before May 1768, Massachusetts Historical Society, N61; K34, 22.8 × 36.9cm, Ink, with a few additions, much later, in pencil
Although able to conceive of a building's design through drawings, Thomas Jefferson may be considered an amateur because of his lack of formal education or an apprenticeship in architecture (Norton, 1977). Considered the United States of America's first architect, Jefferson's education was classical and included the study of law. Known for his extensive library, Jefferson owned works by such authors as Vitruvius, Alberti, Palladio, Scamozzi, De L'Orme, Stuart, and Gibbs. He also acquired volumes concerning the practical aspects of building such as Halfpenny's Practical Architecture and a builder's dictionary.
America's architectural style had been a Georgian derivation called colonial, until Jefferson instigated the federal style (Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986). With his political stature, holding the offices of both Secretary of State and President, he was able to influence the style of building for the new Capitol in Washington. Jefferson designed few projects in his lifetime; the campus of the University of Virginia, and the Capitol building for the state of Virginia, based on the Maison Carrée in Nîmes (Guinness and Sadler, 1973). The building of his home, called Monticello, became his most recognized architectural achievement. This hilltop estate references Palladio with a Greek temple façade and a central octagonal dome perched atop the symmetrical one-story brick structure.
Of the drawings by Jefferson housed in the Coolidge Collection, many are studies in the unforgiving medium of pen and ink. They appear diagrammatic in nature, due to their preparatory and simplistic quality. Wall thickness has been represented with single lines, unlike the heavy poché and nuance of detail and materiality found in drawings by Borromini, for example. As an architect with little construction experience, Jefferson studied classicism through model books to produce his designs.
This page (Figure 3.5) is a freehand planting plan for the grounds surrounding Monticello. Several areas have been erased and redrawn throughout the decision process. A single line describes the house while the proposed driveways are dotted without guidelines. Notes on the page prescribe the mathematical calculations for the site's geometry. The most interesting aspect of this page is Jefferson's notes to himself for both the location of the trees and the identification of their species. The simplicity and use of words give this sketch its diagrammatic quality since diagrams typically provide the most pertinent information while omitting the superfluous.
The semicircular row of trees noted as Lilac, Persian Jasmine, and Daphne has instructions whose wording follows the curve. From this one may speculate that Jefferson was intending to be absent at the time of the trees’ planting; therefore, he needed to identify clearly their types. If this diagram was indeed meant to instruct workers, it would be unlikely that they could calculate the actual geometries per his notational instructions. As a diagram to document his thinking, it was limited by Jefferson's ability to render trees with enough detail so as to identify their species. Especially in plan, the trees would appear quite similar no matter how competent his rendering skills. It might also be suggested that he would be available for the planting and the purpose of the diagram was for his own reference. Studying the organization and symmetry of the different species could best be accomplished by recording their positions. The sketch could assist Jefferson to plan ahead, ordering or digging the trees before location. He may also have identified the trees knowing that when the work began, their location and identification could be confusing. The purpose of the sketch, then, was not to visualize the aesthetic qualities of the composition but rather to act as a memory device and a document to organize the planting.
Soane, Sir John (1753–1837)
Sketch of a design for the south side of the Lothbury Court, Bank of England, November 9, 1799, Sir John Soane's Museum, Soane 10/3/6, 56.5 × 68.4cm, Pencil, pen and brown ink with pink, brown, and gray washes
The contemplation of a page by Sir John Soane initiates a discussion of the sketch as a form of ‘rough draft.’ Revealing Soane's neoclassical intentions, this sketch presents the formalization and subsequent correction of an image intended to be altered. He required the draft to act as a medium for an evaluative design dialogue.
An architect of both private country houses and the largest architectural commission in England of his time, the Bank of England, Soane emerged from humble beginnings. He was born in 1753, a country bricklayer's son, which gave him early exposure to the building trades. Schooled at the Royal Academy of Arts starting in 1771, he met George Dance the Younger and James Peacock, Surveyor, who encouraged him to visit Rome, 1778–1780. On this excursion he also stopped in Paris and visited antiquities in southern France, Naples, and Sicily (Darley, 1999; Richardson and Stevens, 1999).
Sir John Soane began his practice with the design of country houses, but in 1794 public commissions ensued starting with the House of Lords. Other projects followed, such as the Royal Entrance to the House of Lords, Law Courts, the Privy Council Chamber at Whitehall, and the Board of Trade. An advocate of French neoclassical architecture, he was influenced by the work of Borromini, Piranesi, and projects by his former employer George Dance (Richardson and Stevens, 1999; Darley, 1999).
The design and building of the Bank of England was a long and complex project, beginning with Soane's appointment as Surveyor to the bank in 1788. After completing many parts of the building, in 1797 he began the design of Lothbury Court. Soane produced numerous schemes in drawing form for the Roman-inspired courtyard and its façades, reworking the façade many times over a period of two years (Schumann-Bacia, 1989; Trachtenberg and Hyman, 1986). This sketch, dated November 9, 1799, and labeled as a design for the south side of the Lothbury Court (Figure 3.6) is a slow, deliberate, freehand ink drawing with pencil guidelines and numerous erasures and corrections.
Sketches cannot necessarily equate first conceptual thoughts with finished work, but they do capture the process of ideas followed by evaluation and alteration, a process not altogether linear ( Jenny, 1989). Architectural sketches, as compared to unfinished manuscripts, are distinctly part of a design process that encourages possibilities and remains indeterminate. Soane's extensive design process may indicate that he worked through various façade iterations viewing the sketches as rough drafts. Since the sketch was completed in the definitive medium of ink, it is possible that image was meant to be a finished document and upon inspecting the form he made changes. As an erasure technique, one can see that ink had been scratched off the surface where Soane changed his mind. The two arched niches are delineated disparately on a symmetrical façade as he searched for alternatives. Dimensions were changed as Soane used this sketch for design exploration. The ink wash and scratchy shadows helped him to visualize the three-dimensional aspects of the façade. On the margins of the page, Soane studied and eliminated possible details, thoughts he certainly would not have included on a finished document. He dated the sketch to recall the latest option. This was especially important considering the many versions of this design and if he left the design for a few days while attending to other projects. This sketch represents a ‘compositional’ stage of the process; it constitutes the incomplete and changeable ‘pre-text’ as he was not searching for new constructs, but visually editing a proposed rough draft (De Biasi, 1989).
Schinkel, Karl Friedrich (1781–1841)
Sketches of a church at Grundriß Square, 1828, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, SM 41d.220, 40.3 × 30.3cm, Black ink
Karl Friedrich Schinkel, a prominent Prussian neoclassical architect, was born at Neuruppin/Mark Brandenburg in 1781. After the death of his father in 1794, the family moved to Berlin. Deciding that architecture was his interest, he joined the studio of David Gilly to study with he and his son, Friedrich Gilly. Schinkel subsequently enrolled in the first class of the Bauakademie and from 1803 to 1805 he embarked on a journey through Saxony, Austria, Italy, and France to view examples of architectural antiquity.
Schinkel's first major project was a commission by Friedrich Wilhelm III to design the Neue Wache at the Platz am Zeughaus. In 1821 he designed the Schauspielhaus in Berlin with its symmetrical wings, double entablature and raised pediment, all distinctive of his creative use of the neoclassical. His architecture evoked the Greek and Roman but reflected his own interpretation of classicism. One of the buildings he designed in Berlin was the Alte Museum in the Lustgarten, along with planning the development of the area. The distinctive element of this project, executed between 1824 and 1830, was a long colonnaded façade fronted by a large open plaza, giving the building a classical, monumental context.
This page of sketches for a square church (Figure 3.7) exhibits a search for form in plan, section, and elevation. It also conveys Schinkel's use of memory as a device in his design process, expressed through his freehand sketches. They are in some ways dependent upon memory since 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 each architect sketches.1
The quick, often uncontrolled process of sketching reveals how memory influences the form of the images. The haphazard placement and the heavy lines for correction are evidence of a thinking process. Schinkel uses his memory both to remember aspects of antiquity and to be reminded of the form of his earlier projects.
The square shape of this church is reminiscent of a Renaissance Palazzo with its heavy cornice and frieze. The center is open, so as to be an atrium or interior courtyard also evoking the Renaissance Palazzo theme. Other details speak of Schinkel's concern for history, such as the Pantheon-like portico, very similar to the Villa Medici at Poggio a Caiano by Giuliano da Sangallo. The tall, central space, possibly three to four stories, terminates in a domed oculus skylight.
The sketches also convey Schinkel's memory of his own earlier design projects, by the way he repeats certain elements in a new context. The image on the right shows the same square church, but on the lower level a long, colonnaded, raised portico surrounds it. One is distinctly reminded of the long colonnade on the Alte Museum, not yet completed at the time of this sketch, but possibly still very much in Schinkel's mind. The portico, rendered on the alternative to the left, is reminiscent of the façade of his earlier work, the Neue Wache, designed approximately twelve years earlier. These elemental shapes are reflective of the neoclassical style, but they are reused in creative ways, distinctive in his design.
Pugin, A.W.N. (1812–1852)
Details on the Avignon travel sketches, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 35.33.3, II 16, p. 6 sketchbook, 15 × 10 in., Graphite and ink on sketchbook page
Extremely prolific for his short life, Auguste Welby Northmore Pugin designed a daunting amount of churches, along with furniture, metalwork, interior decoration and publications on gothic revival architecture. Having very little formal education and almost none in architecture, Pugin succeeded to learn about architecture through observation and sketching.
Born in London in 1812, his father was an illustrator, sometime draughtsman for John Nash, and producer of books on archaeological gothic revival. The elder Pugin also had a great influence on the future architect, teaching him drawing and taking him on excursions to both the continent and English medieval sites (Atterbury, 1994 and 1995). In 1835, he met Charles Barry and subsequently started work on the design of interiors for the Houses of Parliament, a project he would continue most of his life. Converting to Catholicism that same year had a great impact on his architectural career. Pugin's zealotry concerning church liturgy lead him to his most celebrated work, the design of religious buildings, and over thirty churches and cathedrals throughout England and Ireland that exhibit medieval and gothic sources. A few examples include the Cathedral of St. Chad, 1839–1840, the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. Wilford, Hulme, 1839–1842 and the Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. George, Southwark, 1850.
Pugin's numerous travels to the continent were a source of inspiration to him; there he was able to sketch, observe and find sources/models for his architecture. He produced untold sketches using pocket sketchbooks. His publications expound practical rather than theoretical subjects, acting as copybooks, a few of these publications being Gothic Furniture, The True Principles of Pointed or Christian Architecture, and A Treatise on Chancel Screens and Rood Lofts.
This page (Figure 3.8) from a sketchbook contains details from a trip to Avignon. The page has been covered with pencil and ink studies of selected parts of ecclesiastical buildings. The architectural elements have been carefully sketched using pencil guidelines, and the fragments of details are randomly placed across the page. Although seemingly without an ordering system they have not been located haphazardly; each has been oriented upright and regular to the page. As fragments of tracery, columns, rose windows, and molding profiles they are all sketched with precision. Because they are freehand some of the carvings are irregular, and in several instances the sketches are unfinished. Where elements are repeated it was unnecessary for Pugin to draw every duplicated column.
These sketches were part of his education since he was drawing to understand. For example, the two columns located at the center of the page have column sections inscribed in their shafts. This suggests he wished to be reminded of their octagonal shape, a view difficult to render with an elevation drawing. The carefully imitated details were teaching him the fundamentals of medieval architecture, as if the page was a test of his comprehension.
The relatively small sketches were made with patience and with tremendous skill in observation. It could be speculated that Pugin was interested in accurately recording the essentials of gothic and Romanesque architecture to take home with him. Travel sketchbooks are often recording devices to remember the sights, but these sketches appear to be made with the intention similar to a visual dictionary. Pugin's architecture used many elements of the gothic and these sketches became references for details in his many church designs. This sketchbook resembles a medieval copybook, where Pugin was retaining the templates for reuse.
Paxton, Joseph (1801–1865)
Crystal Palace proposal end elevation and cross-section sketch, June 11, 1850, V&A Picture Library, CT 14412, Pen and ink on blotting paper
A businessman and gardener, Joseph Paxton designed the most prominent example of exhibition architecture of his era. Born near Woburn, England, Paxton received little formal education. Starting work early in life as a gardener, he moved in 1820 to the gardens at Woodhall, Hertfordshire (Chadwick, 1961).
Paxton was ambitious; he became a successful businessman, railway investor, and bridge builder. It was in the design of glass structures that he was most innovative. His interest in horticultural building design began with the Great Conservatory at Chadsworth and the additional pavilions on the grounds. These conservatories were mostly constructed of glass and wood, where he developed ridge and furrow systems for the roofs (Chadwick, 1961). With a concern for tropical plants imported to England, Paxton refined the greenhouse with roof ventilation and heating elements beneath the floor.
The Industrial Revolution, which coincided with the rise of wealth and power of Great Britain, initiated London's international exhibition of 1851. Henry Cole proposed to Prince Albert an industry and commerce exposition. After rejecting all of the competition entries, the steering committee (made up of engineers and architects) proposed a design that proved unpopular (Beaver, 1986). As time was short, Paxton submitted a glass and iron structure composed of standardized parts that could be quickly assembled and taken down (Beaver, 1986; McKean, 1994).
Named the ‘Crystal Palace’ by the magazine Punch, Paxton's huge exhibition hall communicated ‘the new relationship established between the technical means and the desire for prestige and the expressive aims of the building’ (Benevolo, 1971, pp. 101–102). Crystal Palace, was nearly one third of a mile long (1851 feet), contained 900,000 square feet of glass, and 3300 iron columns. It was constructed of twenty002D;four foot repeating bays set upon a raised wood slat floor.
Having a short time to conceive of an appropriate solution, Paxton sketched this section and elevation (Figure 3.9) on blotter paper while attending a railway meeting (Chadwick, 1961). The sketch shows a three-tiered structure with ridge and valley roof panels and a floor heating system utilized in his earlier projects. This minimal sketch appears remarkably similar to the final construction. This may in part be due to the restricted time allowed for design, but it also reveals how Paxton relied on his former experience to find a solution. The flat roof with wavy lines can be more easily explained by understanding his previous conservatory projects; it was not necessary to detail the elements with which he was already familiar. Although the sub-floor heating system was ultimately not included in the Crystal Palace, the sketch gives the essence of the arched iron structure and tall, central, nave-like space. Surrounding Paxton's sketches, the page shows spare notes, scratchings, and inkblots that reveal the prior use of the paper as a railroad desk blotter. The ink bleeding into the paper from the bold lines suggest a high level of confidence. The absorption of the ink into the blotting paper means he sketched slowly with a certain amount of accuracy and experience. This project depended not on complex relationships of spaces but rather upon rapid assembly (approximately five months) and Paxton's knowledge of the fabrication of iron components. With these components as a ‘kit of parts,’ the brief sketch could easily replicate the entire building. This sketch may be the only one Paxton completed to describe the building as a whole, since it was necessary to translate the idea so swiftly into construction drawings. The simple lines were able to provide the necessary information and capture the essence of his conceptual thinking.
Labrouste, Henri (1801–1875)
Preliminary project for the Bibliothèque Ste-Geneviève, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale de France, 1839
Henri Labrouste emerged from the tradition of the beaux-arts and heralded an era of modernism with the use of functional building materials. Born in Paris, he followed his brother Théodore with architectural education at the École des Beaux-Arts. Henri joined the atelier of Vaudoyer and Lebas in 1819 and advanced to the first class within a year. He won the Grand Prix de Rome in 1824 and studied three Greek temples at Paestum. Returning to Paris, his controversial project disturbed the faculty at the Ecole, who were committed to a sculptural ‘universal vocabulary’ of the orders (Middleton, 1982). With its unorthodox conclusions, Labrouste's project examined the construction of these temples, revealing that, in addition to stone construction, stucco and wood articulation and polychromatic decoration were used (Middleton, 1982).
Over the subsequent years, Labrouste directed an atelier and in 1842 began the design of the Bibliothèque Ste-Geneviève. The library, with minimal decoration, can be read as the binding of a book with the names of authors prominently displayed on the exterior. The long, thin, barrel-vaulted building was constructed of masonry with exposed iron columns on the interior. Using a rational approach, Labrouste combined his traditional training with structurally efficient, contemporary building materials. In 1854 he was appointed architect of the Bibliothèque Nationale. The first part of the project required expanding the Palais Mazarin and Hôtel Chevry-Tubeuf. Again Labrouste employed an iron framework, using glass floors between the stacks and roofing the building with nine domes set on slender iron columns.
Although appearing rendered, this drawing (Figure 3.10) suggests an example of a beaux-arts esquisse. It consists of the typical preliminary orthographic drawings of plan, section, and elevation for the Bibliothèque Ste-Geneviève, Paris, 1939. As a stage beyond the initial search for organization, the content and format are consistent with a competition that would solidify a decision about direction (parti). There are several indications on the page that point to this assessment. At the bottom of the sheet are several short ink lines showing how Labrouste tested his pen. This checked if the ink was flowing (not dried at the nib) and to avoid the ink blob that often collected at the end during the time the pen was not in use.
On the elevation are a series of calculations indicating he was using the image to consider dimensions. An arched opening, sketched in graphite, has been added to the low connector between the two buildings. Freehand corrections show on the stair in plan and the lower level on the cross-section. These changes suggest the illustration represented the initial esquisse that was further developed after a process of evaluation. It would be possible to speculate that Labrouste was referring to this page while developing the design (the final rendu). Being the less valuable drawing (a sketch), it served its purpose as a parti, he could make corrections and used it as a blotter for his pen.
Understanding the abbreviated schedule for competitions at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, the techniques of this sketch comparatively reveal the quickness inherent in a search for form (Harbeson, 1927). Quickness as expounded by Italo Calvino, involves a certain speed, economy, and wit (1988). The concept of the parti epitomized economy, displaying the whole organization as efficiently as possible. Time allotted to the search for form was extremely short – the parti was required to reveal a complete perception of the space, conveying its rationale. The academics at the Ecole may have referred to this intelligence as character, but the logic and perception may be of distinction in this case.
NOTES
1. The whole body is involved in the act of memory, since memory, and especially body memory, is a priori; constantly at work, never inoperative. See Casey, E. (1987). Remembering: A Phenomenological Study. Indiana University Press, and the suggestion of the body as ‘habitual,’ Merleau-Ponty, M. (1962). Phenomenology of Perception. The Humanities Press. Also see Yates, F. (1966). The Art of Memory. University of Chicago Press.
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