Contrasts in Architecture: What we can learn from an old magazine
A journey begun by the turning of a page.
A few months ago I ordered an old architecture magazine from eBay. The magazine was titled “The Architectural Forum, March 1929, Church reference number”. I bought it for the sole purpose of studying it’s many ecclesiastical architectural renderings, but soon found myself enraptured by the content of the articles within. This magazine was more than a list of it’s contemporary building works but a time capsule containing the ideas that were present in the minds of architects in that era.
1929 was a tumultuous time in architecture. The once inseparable connection between artisan and architect was beginning to fade. The Introduction of Concrete as a means to create vertical structures quietly shook the foundations of the formative world. To some it was only a replacement of structural brick, to others it was a new paradigm, a new philosophy, a chance to start from scratch.
It was a time of competing ideals. On one side were the traditionalists, like those who published this magazine, who valued beauty and detail and on the other were the modernists who valued reductionism and geometric simplicity. In between, there was the unfortunately short lived movement of Art Deco, which combined the two sides, producing structures that presented hulking geometric mass but with cutaways of delicate detail liberating the building of its overbearingness.
The infamous Frenchman, Le Corbusier began constructing his minimalist concrete ‘Villa Savoye’ at this time, cementing his place as the foremost architect of modernism. Meanwhile the final stones were being placed on some of the last great structures of the 20’s, such as the uniquely American Gothic Church of the Heavenly Rest, and two gems of the Art Deco movement, Bullocks Wilshire in LA, and the Chrysler building in New York.
Villa Savoye, Poiisy. Photograph by @Esther Westerveld
The magazine allows us to pick the brains of architects of the day who opposed the modernist style. To listen to their words, observe their criticisms and with some hindsight, assess the outcomes of modern architecture in our world.
Ralph Adams Cram, a famous american architect, author, and Anglican, known for his Gothic churches, collegiate buildings, and frequent contributions to The Architectural Forum, gave his assessment of the concrete minimalist buildings popping up in France at the time, when he wrote “Exactly what has happened is that the French architects have suddenly discovered ferro-concrete and steel, and the revelation is too much for them. All recognition of higher or other values, tradition, cultural continuity, significance, expressiveness, even beauty itself, all have gone into the discard, and nothing remains but the hard compulsion of one particular building material.”
The lack of beauty and continuity in modern architecture strikes even the latest iteration of its style, the glass and steel boxes of business. By removing any sort of decoration from a building and making the facades flat and plain, a structure is created that cannot reference any time or culture. Instead it becomes fluid and meaningless, ready to be demolished and rebuilt when it's no longer shiny and new. Across Europe and America modern buildings from the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s are being torn down and replaced en masse.
There are no regional differences in modern architecture. There are no distinctions between French Modern, or English Modern, as there is between French Gothic and English Gothic. This architecture lacks “cultural continuity” that would otherwise link a nation with a style. The absence of this trait makes it the go-to international architecture we see today, with no distinct cultural expression of any kind.
The lack of locality removes the sense of place and presence a building could have. It inhibits the human connection with a building, either as a heritage site, a culture’s achievement, or a celebration of beauty and craftsmanship. What’s left when this is stripped away, is purely functional.
Cram warned of using this “New” architecture in places such as houses, schools, and churches. Explaining that they are “Old Social Factors” with defined and known shapes. Essentially a house should look like a house. If a house is built as an unadorned grey box, does a family ever feel at home? Especially when compared to the familiar homely brick house with a pitched roof and a dormer or two. But why would people even build grey boxes in the first place? That can be summed up by the modernist Le Corbusier who wrote “A house is a machine for living in.” And why would a machine need any decoration?
Machines are made for specific functions. they do nothing more, and nothing less. The moment the technology therein is deemed out of date, they are no longer useful. The Model T Ford was once the manufacturing marvel of the automobile age, ubiquitous in every town and city. After advancements in engine efficiency and metallurgy, the model T lost its shine, production ceased and model T’s began stacking up in junkyards around the United States. The very same thing that happens to our old modern buildings. For they were built with the philosophy of technology, not beauty, of novelty not persistence. A philosophy that would begin with the treatment of old beautiful buildings as outdated structures, leading to the destruction of so much of the previously built environment.
After the second world war, european governments and modernist architects set to demolish old terraced neighborhoods built in the 19th century, and replace them with sparse tower blocks that would hold the same number of residences but free up land for roads and parks. This was envisioned as the housing of the future, a new living space for modern man.
Le Corbusier had a grand plan to replace the beautiful boulevards on the north bank of the river Seine in Paris with 18 identical X shaped concrete skyscrapers. Luckily this plan did not see the light of day. Britain however was not so lucky. After the second world war, tower blocks were erected at record pace all over the country to replace - rather than renovate - the unsanitary and sometimes war-torn 19th century public housing developments.
Soon the concrete structures turned from freshly poured pale to a dull stained grey. As the exteriors disintegrated, so did anyone’s desire to live in them. A 2013 UK poll in a PolicyExchange study asked respondents where they would like to live. 0% of respondents chose a tower block. 2% chose apartments, and a whopping 89% chose a terraced house.
While homes are the most prevalent structures in our day to day lives, there is another that plays a more centralized role in the makeup of communities, that of churches. I am sure you have all seen the average modern church that plagues suburbs everywhere: concrete, low ceilings, flat walls, plain white interior, simple wooden furniture, arranged like a theater, and no distinction between sanctuary and nave. Attributes which convey a sense of the worldly instead of the transcendent, the temporary instead of the eternal. The physical representation of sacred space as we know it, is precisely the opposite. The ontological qualities of ‘churchness’ are characterized by stone walls, high ceilings, arcaded aisles, heavily decorated walls, carved furniture, and each section from narthex to sanctuary, more beautiful than the last.
Cram states that letting novel superficial theories of design “run away with [architects], betraying them into the sacrilegious absurdities of Catholic churches built of steel, reinforced concrete and plate glass... in the case of religion with any historical basis and dogmatic continuity it is childish at the best, and demoniac at the worst.”
Due to modern architecture’s inherent cut from tradition, to have a church, whose institution has a long and integrated history, built in a new style that specifically rids itself of its past, is an anachronism, and only serves to harm the metaphysical integrity of the structure itself. This is not to say that new styles with historical continuity cannot be created, but to point out that tradition is a key component to the creation of new styles. Art Nouveau and Art Deco are great examples of a successful synthesis of tradition and innovation.
Historical basis and continuity used to be central considerations in architecture. The Palace of Westminster in the UK was constructed in the English Gothic style to show the nation’s monarchic origins. The great federal buildings of America were built in the Greco-Roman Classical style to display The United States’s foundations on Roman law, Roman republic, and Greek democracy.
Today you would be hard pressed to find a public building of recent origin that reflected any history of its institution aside from the occasional abstract columned portico entrance plainly molded of concrete.
So how did Modern Architecture get such a grip on the average architect? One part of the answer lies in the modernist takeover of the academies of architecture, The other part can be answered by a regular phenomenon explained by Hobart B. Upjohn.
In an article titled “Is Gothic a Dead Style?” He states “I sometimes wonder whether it is due to the youth of our country or whether it is because of a phase of human nature, but certainly it is true that we are a country and a people swayed by fads. The populace is very likely to do this or that thing, not because people personally are convinced that it is the proper or right thing to do, but because they must endeavor to please or perhaps play up to an imaginary public demand or taste.”
When a new building receives praise and awards, architects run to the filings of the architect and attempt to recreate something similar, hoping that they too will garner recognition. Upjohn uses an example of the Richardson Romanesque. The creator, H.H. Richardson designed his first critically acclaimed building, Trinity church in Boston, of which Upjohn wrote “on an entirely different theory and in an entirely different style of the day… Immediately countless architects rushed to the study of the romanesque, and the “picturesque” and “natty'' little public libraries were built in the style...”
The architecture critics in the 30s started to shift in favor of modern architecture and by the end of the decade gave praise to only modernist architects. The average architect of the day, in an attempt to be seen, conformed their own designs to those of the prize winners, regardless of their own feelings towards the style.
The change in taste of the upper echelons of society can be seen most vividly in the architectural designs from the 1915 San Francisco world’s fair compared to the 1939 New York world’s fair. As you can see below, they shifted from picturesque pinnacles and domes to geometric shapes tumbled onto a field.
That was 81 years ago. Where does the general populace stand now? A 2009 UK poll by YouGov asked respondents if a building were to be built near their home, which building (of a set of 4) would they prefer. Respondents picked traditional style buildings 77% of the time and contemporary 23% of the time. Back across the pond, NPR published a poll of America's favorite architecture, in which only 2 of the top 25 buildings rated were built post-war, and one of those was a war memorial, showing where the American populace stands now on the issue.
In a world dominated by modernist architecture for over 80 years, their grip has started to slip. The polls above have boosted the voice of critics to the modern movement and garnered support for an alternative.
There is a new school of architecture rising, or rather a rebirth that is underway. The field of new classical architecture, with forerunners like Duncan Stroik and John Simpson, excels in design and pushes the artisanal field of craft back into the mainstream. With more architects bolstering their ranks every year, the movement seeks to bring beauty back to our built environment from schools to houses, colleges to churches.
The words of these old architects still ring true to this day. Modern architecture ignores a core aspect of what nourishes the soul: beauty. It seeks to cut itself off from the past, with pure novelty. It is a functionalism, that becomes useless the moment it is not in use. No matter what fads brought us here, the people want something else.
I encourage the noble architects of the New Classical Movement. May beauty be brought back into the fold of design and may architecture regain her rightful place hand in hand with the fine arts.
