IN PRAISE OF CLASSICISM

Rudolf Wittkower, Architectural Principles in the Age of Humanism, Academy Editions/St. Martin's Press, London, 1949, 1952, 1962, 1973, 1988.

"to dispose, once and for all, of the hedonist, or purely aesthetic, theory of Renaissance architecture,"

Sir Kenneth Clark, writing in the Architectural Review.

It was purchased in the same bookshop as Anthony Alofsin’s Wright and New York: The Making of America’s Architect book, (Yale University Press, New Haven and London, 2019): Waterstones University of Durham bookshop. There are two Waterstones bookshops in Durham. One was a smart, open-planned commercial space using two levels joined by a wonderfully grand staircase that was the only thing that told that this slick display was a fit-out in an old, refurbished building.  The suavely detailed store was set out as a typical shop, with a deep, central open space scattered with lower displays holding piles of popular books, surrounded by walls of shelves divided into the usual sections for books, providing a grand presentation opening to the street to entice the passersby. This turned out to be the main commercial outlet for Waterstones that was filled with the latest, flashy, popular publications, all as promoted in the media: literally stacks of the latest in glossy releases.

A little further up the road leading to the cathedral, on the same side of the street, there was another more modest Waterstones that was obviously located in an old building, filled with a mix of books old, new, and used all squeezed into a categorised shambles of rooms spread over three tight levels joined by a snug, squeaky, basic wooden stair with odd winders and a different, skewed step or two that opened willy-nilly into an array of small rooms and snug spaces, left, right, and centre. Some areas were nicely provided with a place to sit, occasionally in a sunny spot, using a quirky array of chairs, hard and soft, sparse and grandly plush, but all showing signs of use and age, like the building itself. This was the interesting, 'ye olde' bookshop that is a friendly place of discovery rather than an enticingly hyped outlet: it felt homely and cosy with its happy disarray.

Things considered to be 'architectural'# happened to be in a remote corner on level 3. It was here that Rudolph Wittkower's book on Architectural Principles in the Age of Humanism was found on the shelf above that which held the Wright book. The Wittkower book was secondhand; the Wright book was new, but reduced: Wright was apparently no longer the flavour of the month.*

We were on our way to Shetland, so we would have time to read in the next few months. The Wright book was picked hoping that it was going to be more than a PhD potboiler - happily it was - and Wittkower's book was selected with the thought that it would be good to get close to Palladio once more. A quick flick through the book had revealed the section on Palladio and his work. The book was known, being originally published 1949, and had been seen frequently since this date; it was one of those books that one was always 'going to read later': the time had come. The only issue to consider was that both of these books were chunky hardcovers; they would have to be carried to Shetland. We were getting the Northlink ferry up this time, so weight was not a problem. It was just that we would have another item to lug around: so be it; it should be worth the trouble as we had other books we had accumulated on this trip - one being Jordy's book on American architecture discovered in the little village of Burnham Market, Norfolk – American Buildings And Their Architects Volume 4: Progressive And Academic Ideals At The Turn Of The Twentieth Century, Oxford University Press, New York, 1972: one of the few books that seriously discusses Louis Sullivan’s decoration.

It was some weeks later after reading the Wright book that the Wittkower book was picked up. It was a substantial book, with a reasonable, but still bulky size. Its stiff, thick, grand pages matched the weighty formality of the subject, all nicely set out with the main text taking two thirds of the width of the page, with copious notes, references, and comments filling the other outside third of each leaf. The book was liberally illustrated with beautiful photographs and line drawings, all conveniently positioned for their relevance rather than for their appearance on the page.

Andrea Palladio.

It was more than a book on Palladio, although this master took central stage. The significant section on Palladio was accompanied by other chapters on the Centrally Planned Renaissance Church, Alberti, and Renaissance Proportions. The book was begun at the preface. Usually this preliminary section and the introduction are left until last, with the reading starting at the 'real' text, in order to get into the subject without any prompts that could change understandings by directing them into special ways of seeing/reading.

Leon Battista Alberti.

The book was found to have a strange feel to it. The scholarship was obviously rigorous and substantial, and the subject was revealing, but one felt that things were piecemeal, touching on matters in a strangely ad hoc manner that felt as though the surface had barely been scratched; perhaps this was so?

Matters would be raised, developed, then dropped as they moved on to other issues, leaving the reader with a bundle of astonishingly interesting observations floating, as if seeking or requiring some unknown more substantial, meaningful context that was missing.

Did the subject lack the depth one sought?  Was it that there was too much material to be included, with the author choosing, as it were, the highlights in order to make his point? One kept feeling as though one was being led into a new and wondrous world, only to be left with tantalising notes that suggested so much more that was never included, as the text moved on into other matters said to be somehow integrally involved.

What was presented in the book gave one much food for thought. The classical world was not that of dumb, cliche repetition of standard decorative pieces and parts that we had been told that it was in our early days of architectural education that had just missed the Beaux Arts method of training. All things classical were not the thoughtless, ad hoc, unnecessary, Victorian cliches that Sullivan had defined in his writings. Wittkower was describing a world of intrigue and complexity, with a thoughtful referencing and detailing that left one disappointed that all of this had been missed, dismissed, in one's architectural training.

One thought of how Lutyens' work had originally been savagely disparaged, even mocked as ‘retro whimsy’ that needed to be parodied and forgotten in favour of modernist thinking, only for this approach to understanding Lutyens’ work to be transformed by Venturi in his Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture book written in 1962. Lutyens finally became the flavour of the month, praised for his subtlety, sensitivity, wit and skill. Subsequent reading – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2018/12/lutyens-in-india-referencing-humour-in.html - has shown that he was a stubborn classicist at heart, but still managed to achieve what we see as a regional/cultural referencing in his work in spite of this.

Lutyens, New Delhi.

Might it be that Wittkower's work was doing the same for classicism? Suddenly this world that one had been trained to pooh-pooh, opened up to be just as subtle and complex in its approach to detail, experience, and understanding as Lutyens' work has been rediscovered to be. Classicism was not just a dumb game of ad hoc decorative style; it displayed an intriguing intelligence with a rigorous rationale.

One longed for the knowledge and familiarity that might allow one into this discredited world where projects were not just blind repetitions of a prescribed, decorative kit of parts, but truly inventive and thoughtful resolutions referencing complex understandings with skill and creativity structuring intentions.

In spite of this desire to become engaged with things classical, one hesitates: we have been so brainwashed by 'new' architectural thinking that anything that might even look like something classical, even in part, is mockingly dismissed, just as Lutyens' projects originally were. One is seen to be something of a malingerer, a pretentious pretender muddling around with matters of proven irrelevance. At best, one would be seen as suffering from the same whimsical fantasies as King Charles who, as Prince, indulged in the traditional world of architecture, preferring this to Modernism, of which he remained a fierce critic. Working with Leon Krier, Prince Charles planned and constructed Poundbury using traditional principles, a village that seems to be something like a theatre set, embodying a nostalgic longing for the envisaged wonders of the past.

Poundbury.

Might we one day learn how to appreciate classicism; understand its complex subtleties sufficiently to overcome our terrible prejudices that are so ingrained that any thoughts of even a basic attempt to try to understand things from this world could never be seriously contemplated without drawing the sarcasm and ire of colleagues in the profession?

What is this sad void that Wittkower’s book has opened up, leaving one floundering on a flimsy, uncertain edge, knowing the reaction if one was to step over it? It seemed to be a personal dilemma rather than any fault in this marvellous publication that has stood the test of time since 1949. One lingered with the thought of a greater involvement in the subject and work, wanting more and more, needing to delve into the marvels of a world that we had been told was mere thoughtless, out of date, irrelevant, unnecessary, ad hoc, meaningless decoration that had taken over the world as a worrying fungus/blight that needed to be removed by the cleansing, bleaching of Modernism and its ‘right’ thinking. Ruskin had pushed the world away from Classicism into things Gothic; but Modernism strode on beyond this into the new machine age of rationalism and rigour after enjoying its playful Art Nouveau transitional phase.

Wittkower's book highlights how wrong our perceptions on the classical world have been. Just what we do with his pointers still remains to have its impact. Modernism has been so powerful in its redirecting of thought that even things Postmodern that toyed with the classical imagery, have been seen as frivolous detours, fun and games rather than a serious re-involvement in the beautiful commitments and thoughtful rigours of the classical world: but this possibility of any serious involvement with things classical could never ever be contemplated, such is the thoroughness of the transformation that declared war on any decoration, demanding only necessities to shape beauty as a new nothingness promoted as purity.

We have become so self-assured and arrogant with our 'correct' thinking that even now, with our flimsy, visual world that dismisses thinking, theory, and research into things architectural in favour of bespoke, boldly devised, different deviations that display MY unique genius, where random distortions of morphed forms become the new, 'interesting' decorative diversion, we can carry on mocking things old and classical, leaving these matters for historical studies that have become an insignificant part of architectural training; a lingering aside trying to be sidestepped in favour of the ‘new.’ Now more time is spent teaching students to draw, and manipulate the latest AI/CAD system, than on thinking and theorising, let alone considering the classical world opened by Wittkower's wonderful book that is left aside as a meaningless, irrelevant, old publication, with the browsing of Pinterest being considered much more exciting and useful. Sadly, one can see library staff discussing the possibility of ‘culling’ the book because of the lack of interest in it.

#

On book categories, one will never forget coming across Dante's 'Divine Comedy' on a shelf in the 'Humour' section of a bookshop. The fact is that this poem is an allegory for the soul's journey to God; it is not laughing matter.

*

After reading the Wright book, I wanted to purchase a copy and have it sent to Australia to a colleague, for his birthday. One knew that he would enjoy this read. The bookshop had four or five copies, so it was Emailed and asked about getting another copy. Sadly it never bothered to reply. A copy was purchased online elsewhere and arrived as a nice surprise. One sometimes wonders why businesses are not interested in doing business that might require a little committed effort.

Postscript

The book was put aside with the Appendices unread, and the review drafted. A couple of weeks later it was picked up and finished. The appendices are interesting in the way they are more relaxed, more chatty and open about the subject and its relevance today.

What does stand out in this whole study is the role of numbers in the Islamic world. Wittkower involves himself in the Greek world, and its impact on thinking in the Medieval and Renaissance periods.

It is a shame that things Islamic, that have an astonishing involvement in numbers, are completely ignored. One does realise that the book was first published in 1949 when even Bannister Fletcher ignored the Islamic world, but it was reprinted in 1952, 1962, 1973, and 1988.

Critchlow's great study of Islamic Patterns was published in 1983. By this time, even Fletcher had a small section on Islamic architecture. Perhaps a note could have been included to show that it was not only the west that was involved in these matters. This concentration on the west has only formalised the attitude to Islam that we see today: as backward, religious fanatics to be eradicated, when things are so remarkably different in every way: (see Stealing from the Saracens: How Islamic Architecture Shaped Europe Diana Darke Hurst Publishers, London, 2020 – https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/12/blinding-islamophobia.html). We owe a lot to the Islamic world. We not only get the word 'tabby' as in tabby cat from Islam, but also 'algebra.' We have roots in Islam as well as in Plato and need to acknowledge this if we are going to live and love peacefully in our world.

Rudolf Wittkower died in 1971, but he must have been aware of a few things Islamic; or was he so involved in his subject that he blinded himself to this other world? The book does reveal a certain stubborn fanaticism for the subject; a determination to spread his word.

It is not only Islam. There are the worlds of Hindu and Buddhist art that Ananda Coonaraswamy wrote about. This was art, like the Renaissance work illustrated and discussed by Wittkower, that had to conform to the rules, references and proportions, before it could be beautiful; but Wittkower says nothing about this work of other times, other than noting that traditional art is religious art.

Coomaraswamy highlighted the problem with art becoming exactly what Wittkower has described as today's approach to proportion - personal inspiration. Coomaraswamy notes that this is only misleading, muddled thinking; nothing more. Wittkower is less certain about this new approach, finishing his book with the comment that there is no right way, suggesting that there is a way, which is what our ancient cultures all tell us. Meanwhile we flounder along with absolute certainty in nothing at all other than declaring the classical world a past indulgence that has passed its time to become an irrelevance.

Also see You Tube Harvard Online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6F0nqIF1jEg

8 NOV 25

NOTE:

See article in The Spectator:

https://www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-triumph-of-classical-architecture/