First published in Mcmxxx
by the Architectural Press,
Ltd.
Reprinted in Mcmxliv by Faber
and Faber Limited
24 Russell Square London W.C.1
Second impression December
Mcmxliv
Third impression September
Mcmxlv
Fourth impression March
Mcmxlvii
Printed in Great Britain by
Latimer Trend & Co Ltd
Plymouth
All rights reserved
This book is produced in
complete conformity
with the authorized economy
standards
It
has been some time since such a scruffy, modest publication has been
opened and enjoyed; and many years since one has seen dates
expressed as Roman numerals. The fragile, fading, thin yellowed pages
that look like poor, porous blotting paper printed with handset Times
text in varying degrees of fuzziness, all roughly,
unevenly bound, reminded one of other tiny publications produced in
the same era of war-induced restrictions. These naive, imperfect, and
honestly crude documents lack the slick certainty and glossy
flawlessness of digital productions that we have come to expect today. Compared to such panache, publications of the past are made to look childlike, scrappy, and
unprofessional by this perfect, printed world that turns handwriting
into just careless, sloppy, and unconvincing scrawl. Yet texts like
this one once held character; and the marks of the individual hand
once displayed impressive, expressive personal characteristics: but
alas, no more – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/classic-difference.html
Faded,
worn, and pale-blue, the tatty, half-quarto, cloth-covered book was
found in a bookshop in Armidale in northern New South Wales,
Australia – in an interesting revived Art Deco store of secondhand
volumes named wisely, and cleverly, after the boobook owl. The
insignificant narrow edge of the cover, partially concealed by the larger,
bolder neighbours, had to be egged out, and the book opened, to
discover the title, such was the state of its aged, hazed, smokey
spine and its worn, faded gold script. One was familiar with The
Honeywood File which was Creswell's fictional record of the
construction of the house at Honeywood Grange, a faux account of the
typical events experienced in an architectural practice, documented
as a novel. This book, The Honeywood Settlement,
covered the next stage involving the occupation of the dwelling and
all of the problems, defects, extras, failures, changes, charges,
etc., associated with this time until the final certificate is
issued.
The
Honeywood File was a remarkably successful
publication that established the author’s reputation. Creswell's
account explored the typical occasions, events and struggles of house-building experienced in their real, revealed, everyday rawness. The
book was promoted as a text to inform budding architects of the
trials and tribulations of practice. In one sense the book was
ironic, humorous, and farcical; in another, it held an educational
ripeness and richness that students of architecture were directed to
in order to understand 'the real world' that they were getting
involved in: architectural practice - unvarnished, unappealing,
unattractive. The promise was that the chosen profession was not
going to be as grand and gloriously heroic as the coffee-table books
made it appear.
The
Honeywood Settlement does likewise for
architectural practice, its experience, documenting the challenges
and crises during the period after ‘practical completion.’ The
term defines the stage when the project has been completed for all
‘practical purposes,’ even though certain matters might still
require attention. The Honeywood Settlement is a book that has lingered through time with varying accolades and
sundry neglect, eventually being dismissed as an ancient and
irrelevant, outdated tome – it is now 85 years old: but it remains
of interest, if only to show how the profession has changed, and how
it hasn't. One grimaces from time to time, such is the reality of
this fictional, real-world farce: one knows about this! On other
occasions, one delights in the expression, the language. Here English
is seen in its 1930s style, pure and precise. It is a real pleasure
to see the cared-for perfection of the punctuation and spelling,(almost),# as
well as the punch of the particular expression. It makes for far
better reading than most journalism today, where one is constantly
stumbling on unapologetic spelling errors, poor punctuation, or none
at all, and terrible grammar, as if all this was irrelevant, with
only the message being critical. What is missed is that these factors
are the story; they make the message, just as details make the
architecture.
Creswell
sits in the background behind his own concocted communications that
take the form of filed correspondence. Here he becomes the objective,
rational commentator, explaining some special architectural issue, or
expanding on the context of the subject; or passing on advice as to
an approach, noting its weaknesses, its failure, its benefits;
perhaps its shrewdness. He frequently suggests solutions to subtle
problems; alternative approaches: nuances. The book is an instructive
text in many ways, not only in relation to architectural practice,
but also in regard to letter writing, general expression, logical thinking,
and in personal relationships. One wonders what might be
written today on this subject, in our indulgent era of egotistical
expressionism enhanced by digital gadgets and gizmos.
It
is precisely because of our lack of such understandings and studies – where are the theoretical texts; the discussions on ideas;
on practice? - that Creswell's book can be seen to be relevant. The
publication highlights our weakness in grasping at the phantom
‘progress,’ in our simplistic dismissal of the old publications
in favour of the most freakish, frenzied fashion of the hyped-up
moment that distractedly declares ME, clever ME! Creswell is
certainly worth a read. One is left asking, why not read, re-read,
say, Trystran Edwards and Howard Robertson? Maybe Sigfried Gideon?
Why not indeed? - see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2011/02/revive-beaux-arts.html
We would be bold to suggest that there was nothing to learn in these
works: yet we do.
The problem with damp and dry rot
What
we have to do is overcome the casting of aspersions
on matters
arising from
other eras, demeaning them, defining them as asses,
irrelevant to our new, special,
progressively
smart, and smarter
world. Creswell – see:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Bulkeley_Creswell
- shows
us how human nature does not change. We need to understand how other
eras were as rich and as clever as ours – maybe more so. This
perception
becomes a core understanding for knowing
the
art of other times – and architecture. Ananda
Coomaraswamy
told us of this approach:
to always read other cultures through their particular contexts, not
through
our own preconceptions,
preoccupations,
or
the fabricated, fanciful,
flimsy
frameworks
of our times.* Creswell
can help us in this way, ease
us into a broader
acceptance of things otherwise:
his old book can reinvigorate our
attention,
redirect
it to
matters of manners, guile, intrigue,
and
the human condition as
it deflates, defeats the rudeness
of the concept
of ‘progress.’
The problem of the jamming doors
Following
most architectural talks, a colleague usually makes the casual
comment: "They never talk about how they get the job; or of the
problems they have in the architectural process beyond anything
quirky that might endorse their standing as the hero."
Creswell's writing has the skill to represent this everyday
world, the ordinary, non-heroic struggles of the architect, with an
adroit skill and intensity that impresses because of its complete
lack of pretence, its openness to ordinary facts and foibles. It is
this awareness that makes his writing enduring, an enjoyable,
interesting and instructive read in spite of its years, and our
prejudices. We should be more open to its messages, for we need to
learn to be inclusive of the complexity of architectural practice –
warts and all – rather than being selectively special with our
uniquely selfish, selfie beliefs that spruik otherwise of great gleams and grand gloss.
See
sidebar - ARCHITECTURAL PRACTICE
# Alas, even after so many editions, perfection gets spoilt on page 173 where 'jalling out' appears instead of 'falling out' - there is much 'falling out' in these pages: such is architectural practice!
- and, sadly, p.208: 'then' for 'than' - a phonetic problem that equates to the verbal 'would of' instead of 'would have.'
* Consider
the Indian painter:
The
Indian painter . . . created his masterpieces not in a spirit of
imposing his personality on an admiring world with a desire for
personal honour and fame, but obliterated himself, almost deriving
supreme satisfaction in that his art was an offering to God.
C.
Sivaramamurti Chitrasutra of the Vishnudharmottara
University of Baroda 1978 p.3
