content addedHEAD main

author: Robert Tonsing <pterodactyl@pglaf.org> 2025-10-14 13:45:03 -0700
committer: Robert Tonsing <pterodactyl@pglaf.org> 2025-10-14 13:45:03 -0700
commit: 233bfa020b709f4b24e12bbdae0da5b62383c1bb (patch)
tree: 167ad9e374f2a37c29c4615c91093eeb3c685b0e /70079-h
parent: 3a371d3354d9d3594f5c07e3616e53afbd2cdba5 (diff)
373 files changed, 37481 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/70079-h/70079-h.htm b/70079-h/70079-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a77e191
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/70079-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,37481 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" />
+    <title>Architecture: Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries | Henry-Russell Hitchcock</title>
+    <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" />
+    <style type="text/css">
+       body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; }
+       h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.4em; }
+       h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; }
+       h3 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.2em; }
+       h4 { text-align: center; font-weight: normal; font-size: 1.0em; }
+       .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver;
+               text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute;
+               border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal;
+               font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; }
+       p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; }
+       sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; }
+       .fss { font-size: 75%; }
+       .sc { font-variant: small-caps; }
+       .index li {text-indent: -1em; padding-left: 1em; }
+       .index ul {list-style-type: none;  padding-left: 0; }
+       ul.index  {list-style-type: none;  padding-left: 0; }
+       ul.ul_1 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 2.78%; margin-top: .5em;
+               margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: disc; }
+       ul.ul_2 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 6.94%; margin-top: .5em;
+               margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: circle; }
+       div.footnote {margin-left: 2.5em; }
+       div.footnote > :first-child { margin-top: 1em; }
+       div.footnote .label { display: inline-block; width: 0em; text-indent: -2.5em;
+               text-align: right; }
+       div.pbb { page-break-before: always; }
+       hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; }
+       @media handheld { hr.pb { display: none; } }
+       .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; }
+       .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; }
+       .figleft { clear: left; float: left; max-width: 100%; margin: 0.5em 1em 1em 0;
+               text-align: left; }
+       .figright { clear: right; float: right; max-width: 100%; margin: 0.5em 0 1em 1em;
+               text-align: right; }
+       div.figcenter p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; }
+       div.figleft p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; }
+       div.figright p { text-align: center; text-indent: 0; }
+       @media handheld { .figleft { float: left; } }
+       @media handheld { .figright { float: right; } }
+       .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; }
+       .figleft img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; }
+       .figright img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; }
+       .id001 { width:1000px; }
+       .id002 { width:100px; }
+       .id003 { width:800px; }
+       .id004 { width:400px; }
+       .id005 { width:200px; }
+       .id006 { width:50%; }
+       .id007 { width:25%; }
+       .id008 { width:50%; }
+       @media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:0%; width:100%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id002 { margin-left:44%; width:12%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id003 { margin-left:0%; width:100%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id004 { margin-left:25%; width:50%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id005 { width:25%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id006 { width:50%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id007 { width:25%; } }
+       @media handheld { .id008 { margin-left:25%; width:50%; } }
+       .ic003 { width:100%; }
+       .ig001 { width:100%; }
+       .table0 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 9%;
+               width: 83%; }
+       .table1 { margin: auto; margin-top: 2em; margin-left: 2%; margin-right: 3%;
+               width: 95%; }
+       .nf-center { text-align: center; }
+       .nf-center-c0 { text-align: left; margin: 0.5em 0; }
+       .c000 { margin-top: 1em; }
+       .c001 { margin-top: 4em; }
+       .c002 { font-size: 2em; }
+       .c003 { font-size: 0.9em; }
+       .c004 { font-size: 1em; }
+       .c005 { margin-top: 2em; }
+       .c006 { font-size: 1.5em; }
+       .c007 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 1em; }
+       .c008 { font-size: 0.7em; }
+       .c009 { margin-top: 6em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c010 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c011 { margin-top: 3em; }
+       .c012 { margin-top: 6em; }
+       .c013 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; }
+       .c014 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; padding-right: 1em; }
+       .c015 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; text-indent: -1em;
+               padding-left: 1em; padding-right: 1em; }
+       .c016 { vertical-align: top; text-align: right; }
+       .c017 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 2em; }
+       .c018 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; padding-right: 1em; }
+       .c019 { vertical-align: top; text-align: left; text-indent: -1em;
+               padding-left: 1em; }
+       .c020 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c021 { text-align: right; }
+       .c022 { margin-left: 8.33%; margin-right: 8.33%; margin-top: 2em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c023 { margin-left: 8.33%; margin-right: 8.33%; text-indent: 1em;
+               margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c024 { margin-left: 8.33%; margin-right: 8.33%; text-align: right; }
+       .c025 { text-decoration: none; }
+       .c026 { font-size: 1.2em; }
+       .c027 { font-size: 0.8em; }
+       .c028 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c029 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; }
+       .c030 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 2em; }
+       .c031 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c032 { page-break-before: auto; margin-top: 2em; }
+       .c033 { margin-left: 2.78%; text-indent: -2.78%; margin-top: 1em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c034 { margin-left: 2.78%; text-indent: -2.78%; margin-top: 0.5em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c035 { page-break-before: auto; margin-top: 1em; }
+       .c036 { margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c037 { margin-left: 5.56%; text-indent: -2.78%; margin-top: 0.5em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c038 { margin-left: 5.56%; text-indent: -5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em;
+               margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c039 { margin-left: 5.56%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; }
+       .c040 { margin-top: .5em; }
+       h1   {font-size: 4.00em; text-align: center; }
+       h2   {font-size: 1.50em; text-align: center; }
+       h3   {font-size: 1.25em; text-align: center; }
+       .tnbox {background-color:#E3E4FA;border:1px solid silver;padding: 0.5em;
+              margin:2em 10% 0 10%; }
+       .fn   {font-size: 0.85em; line-height: 125%; }
+       .sans {font-family: "Ariel", sans-serif; }
+    </style>
+  </head>
+  <body>
+<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Architecture: nineteenth and twentieth centuries, by Henry-Russell Hitchcock</p>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+
+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Architecture: nineteenth and twentieth centuries</p>
+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Henry-Russell Hitchcock</p>
+<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 21, 2023 [eBook #70079]</p>
+<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
+  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Tim Lindell, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p>
+<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHITECTURE: NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES ***</div>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id001'>
+<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c000' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div><span class='c002'>THE PELICAN HISTORY OF ART</span></div>
+    <div class='c000'>EDITED BY NIKOLAUS PEVSNER</div>
+    <div class='c000'><span class='c003'>Z15</span></div>
+    <div class='c000'><span class='c004'>ARCHITECTURE: NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES</span></div>
+    <div><span class='c004'>HENRY-RUSSELL HITCHCOCK</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c001' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+    <div><span class='c006'>HENRY-RUSSELL HITCHCOCK</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div>
+  <h1 class='c007'>ARCHITECTURE<br /><span class='c008'>NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH<br />CENTURIES</span></h1>
+</div>
+<p class='c009'>&nbsp;</p>
+<div  class='figcenter id002'>
+<img src='images/publogo.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+</div>
+<p class='c010'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c011'>
+    <div><span class='c006'>PENGUIN BOOKS</span></div>
+    <div><span class='c006'>BALTIMORE · MARYLAND</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div><i>First published 1958</i></div>
+    <div><i>Second edition 1963</i></div>
+    <div><i>Penguin Books Inc.</i></div>
+    <div><i>3300 Clipper Mill Road, Baltimore, Maryland</i></div>
+    <div class='c000'>*</div>
+    <div class='c000'><i>Copyright</i> © <i>1958 Henry-Russell Hitchcock</i></div>
+    <div class='c000'>*</div>
+    <div class='c000'><i>Made and printed in</i></div>
+    <div><i>Great Britain</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c001' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c012'>
+    <div><span class='c003'>TO</span></div>
+    <div class='c000'>A.C. O’M.-W.</div>
+    <div class='c000'>*</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c012' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span>
+  <h2 id='toc' class='c013'>CONTENTS</h2>
+</div>
+<table class='table0' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='8%' />
+<col width='80%' />
+<col width='12%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>LIST OF FIGURES</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_ix'>ix</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>LIST OF PLATES</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_xi'>xi</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_xix'>xix</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_xx'>xx</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>INTRODUCTION</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c011'>
+    <div>Part One</div>
+    <div class='c000'><i>1800-1850</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='8%' />
+<col width='80%' />
+<col width='12%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>1.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>ROMANTIC CLASSICISM AROUND 1800</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>2.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE DOCTRINE OF J.-N.-L. DURAND AND ITS APPLICATION IN NORTHERN EUROPE</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_20'>20</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>3.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>FRANCE AND THE REST OF THE CONTINENT</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_43'>43</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>4.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>GREAT BRITAIN</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_59'>59</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>5.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE NEW WORLD</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_77'>77</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>6.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE PICTURESQUE AND THE GOTHIC REVIVAL</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_93'>93</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>7.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>BUILDING WITH IRON AND GLASS: 1790-1855</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_115'>115</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c011'>
+    <div>Part Two</div>
+    <div class='c000'><i>1850-1900</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='8%' />
+<col width='80%' />
+<col width='12%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>8.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>SECOND EMPIRE PARIS, UNITED ITALY, AND IMPERIAL-AND-ROYAL VIENNA</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_131'>131</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>9.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>SECOND EMPIRE AND COGNATE MODES ELSEWHERE</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_152'>152</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>10.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>HIGH VICTORIAN GOTHIC IN ENGLAND</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_173'>173</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>11.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>LATER NEO-GOTHIC OUTSIDE ENGLAND</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_191'>191</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>12.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>NORMAN SHAW AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_206'>206</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>13.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>H. H. RICHARDSON AND McKIM, MEAD &amp; WHITE</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_221'>221</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>14.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE RISE OF COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_233'>233</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>15.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE DETACHED HOUSE IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA FROM 1800 TO 1900</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_253'>253</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c011'>
+    <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span>Part Three</div>
+    <div class='c000'><i>1890-1955</i></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table0' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='8%' />
+<col width='80%' />
+<col width='12%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>16.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE BEGINNINGS OF THE ART NOUVEAU: VICTOR HORTA</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_281'>281</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>17.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE SPREAD OF THE ART NOUVEAU: THE WORK OF C. R. MACKINTOSH AND ANTONI GAUDÍ</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_292'>292</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>18.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>MODERN ARCHITECTS OF THE FIRST GENERATION IN FRANCE: AUGUSTE PERRET AND TONY GARNIER</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_307'>307</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>19.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT AND HIS CALIFORNIA CONTEMPORARIES</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_320'>320</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>20.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>PETER BEHRENS AND OTHER GERMAN ARCHITECTS</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_336'>336</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>21.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE FIRST GENERATION IN AUSTRIA, HOLLAND, AND SCANDINAVIA</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_349'>349</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>22.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>THE EARLY WORK OF THE SECOND GENERATION: WALTER GROPIUS, LE CORBUSIER, MIES VAN DER ROHE, AND THE DUTCH</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_363'>363</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>23.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>LATER WORK OF THE LEADERS OF THE SECOND GENERATION</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_380'>380</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>24.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>ARCHITECTURE CALLED TRADITIONAL IN THE TWENTIETH CENTURY</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_392'>392</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>25.</td>
+    <td class='c015'>ARCHITECTURE AT THE MID CENTURY</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_411'>411</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>EPILOGUE</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_429'>429</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>NOTES</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_439'>439</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>BIBLIOGRAPHY</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_473'>473</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'><i>The Plates</i></td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_484'>484</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>&nbsp;</td>
+    <td class='c015'>INDEX</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_677'>677</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span>
+  <h2 id='figs' class='c013'>LIST OF FIGURES</h2>
+</div>
+<table class='table0' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='8%' />
+<col width='80%' />
+<col width='12%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>1</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Friedrich Weinbrenner: Karlsruhe, Marktplatz, 1804-24, plan</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_17'>17</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>3</td>
+    <td class='c015'>J.-N.-L. Durand: ‘Vertical Combinations’ (from <i>Précis des leçons</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>, plate 3)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_21'>21</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>3</td>
+    <td class='c015'>J.-N.-L. Durand: ‘Galleries’ (from <i>Précis des leçons</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>, plate 14)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_24'>24</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>4</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Leo von Klenze; Munich, War Office, 1824-6, elevation (from Klenze, <i>Sammlung</i>, <span class='fss'>III</span>, plate x)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>5</td>
+    <td class='c015'>K. F. von Schinkel: project for Neue Wache, Berlin, 1816 (from Schinkel, <i>Sammlung</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, plate 1)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_29'>29</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>6</td>
+    <td class='c015'>K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Altes Museum, 1824-8, section (from Schinkel, <i>Sammlung</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, plate 40)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_31'>31</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>7</td>
+    <td class='c015'>K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Feilner house, 1829, elevation (from Schinkel, <i>Sammlung</i>, plate 113)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_34'>34</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>8</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Gottfried Semper: Dresden, Opera House (first), 1837-41, plan (from Semper, Das <i>Königliche Hoftheater</i>, plate 1)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_37'>37</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>9</td>
+    <td class='c015'>J.-I. Hittorff: project for country house for Comte de W., 1830, elevation (from Normand, <i>Paris moderne</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, plate 71)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_47'>47</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>10</td>
+    <td class='c015'>John Nash: London, Regent Street and Regent’s Park, 1812-27, plan (from Summerson, <i>John Nash</i>)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_65'>65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>11</td>
+    <td class='c015'>John Haviland: Philadelphia, Eastern Penitentiary, 1823-35, plan (from Crawford, <i>Report</i>, plate 1)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_79'>79</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>12</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Thomas Jefferson: Charlottesville, Va., University of Virginia, 1817-26, plan  (from Kimball, <i>Thomas Jefferson</i>)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>13</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Isaiah Rogers: Boston, Tremont House, 1828-9, plan (from Eliot, <i>A Description of the Tremont House</i>)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_87'>87</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>14</td>
+    <td class='c015'>H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, (1839), 1843-50, section (from <i>Allgemeine Bauzeitung</i>, 1851, plate 386)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_125'>125</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>15</td>
+    <td class='c015'>J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, 1863-74, plan (from Garnier, <i>Nouvel opéra</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, plate 9)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_139'>139</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>16</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Vilhelm Petersen and Ferdinand Jensen: Copenhagen, Søtorvet, 1873-6, elevation (Kunstakademiets Bibliotek, Copenhagen)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_156'>156</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>17</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Antoni Gaudí: project for Palau Güell, Barcelona, 1885, elevation (from Ráfols, <i>Gaudí</i>, p. 54)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_203'>203</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>18</td>
+    <td class='c015'>W. Eden Nesfield: Kew Gardens, Lodge, 1867, elevation (Courtesy of Victoria and Albert Museum)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_208'>208</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>19</td>
+    <td class='c015'>R. Norman Shaw: Leyswood, Sussex, 1868, plan (from Muthesius, <i>Das Englische Haus</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, figure 81)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_210'>210</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>20</td>
+    <td class='c015'>D. H. Burnham and F. L. Olmsted: Chicago, World’s Fair, 1893, plan (from Edgell, <i>American Architecture of Today</i>, figure 36)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_231'>231</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>21</td>
+    <td class='c015'>T. F. Hunt: house-plan, 1827 (from Hunt, <i>Designs for Parsonage Houses</i>, plate <span class='fss'>IV</span>)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_255'>255</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>22</td>
+    <td class='c015'>A. J. Downing: house-plan, 1842 (from Downing, <i>Cottage Residences</i>, figure 50)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_258'>258</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>23</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Philip Webb: Arisaig, Inverness-shire, 1863, plan (Courtesy of J. Brandon-Jones)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_260'>260</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>24</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Nesfield &amp; Shaw: Cloverley Hall, Shropshire, 1865-8, plan (from <i>Architectural Review</i>, 1 (1897), p. 244)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_261'>261</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>25</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Philip Webb: Barnet, Hertfordshire, Trevor Hall, 1868-70, plan (Courtesy of Victoria and Albert Museum)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_262'>262</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>26</td>
+    <td class='c015'>W. R. Emerson: Mount Desert, Maine, house, 1879, plan (from Scully, <i>The Shingle Style</i>, figure 46)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_266'>266</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>27</td>
+    <td class='c015'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: Newport, R.I., Isaac Bell, Jr, house, 1881-2, plan (from Sheldon, <i>Artistic Houses</i>)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_268'>268</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>28</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Bruce Price: Tuxedo Park, N.Y., Tower House, 1885-6 (from Scully, <i>The Shingle Style</i>, figure 109)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_270'>270</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>29</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Chicago, Isidore Heller house, 1897, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 44)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_272'>272</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>30</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Chicago, J. W. Husser house, 1899, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 46)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_273'>273</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>31</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Kankakee, Ill., Warren Hickox house, 1900, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 54)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_274'>274</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>32</td>
+    <td class='c015'>C. F. A. Voysey: Lake Windermere, Broadleys, 1898-9, plan (Courtesy of J. Brandon-Jones)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_277'>277</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>33</td>
+    <td class='c015'>M. H. Baillie Scott: Trevista, c. 1905, plan (from Baillie Scott, <i>Houses and Gardens</i>, 1906, p. 155)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_278'>278</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>34</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Victor Horta: Brussels, Aubecq house, 1900, plan (Courtesy of J. Delhaye)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_290'>290</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>35</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, 1905-10, plan of typical floor (Courtesy of Amics de Gaudí)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_304'>304</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>36</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Auguste Perret: Paris, block of flats, 25 bis Rue Franklin, 1902-3, plan (from <i>Architecture d’Aujourd’hui</i>, October 1932, p. 19)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_311'>311</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>37</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Auguste Perret: Le Raincy, S.-et-O., Notre-Dame, 1922-3, plan (from Pfammatter, <i>Betonkirchen</i>, p. 38)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_313'>313</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>38</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Highland Park, Ill., W. W. Willitts house, 1902, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 74)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_322'>322</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>39</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Glencoe, Ill., W. A. Glasner house, 1905, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 111)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_323'>323</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>40</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Pasadena, Cal., Mrs G. M. Millard house, 1923, plans (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 251)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_327'>327</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>41</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Minneapolis, M. C. Willey house, 1934, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>In the Nature of Materials</i>, figure 317)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_328'>328</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>42</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Middleton, Wis., Herbert Jacobs house, 1948, plan (from Hitchcock and Drexler, <i>Built in U.S.A.</i>, p. 121)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_331'>331</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>43</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Adolf Loos: Vienna, Gustav Scheu house, 1912, plan (Courtesy of Dr Ludwig Münz)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_353'>353</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>44</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Le Corbusier: First project for Citrohan house, 1919-20, perspective (from Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, p. 31)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_368'>368</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>45</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Le Corbusier: Second project for Citrohan house, 1922, plans and section (from Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, p. 44)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_369'>369</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>46</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Le Corbusier: Vaucresson, S.-et-O., house, 1923, plans (from Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, p. 51)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_371'>371</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>47</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Le Corbusier: Poissy, S.-et-O., Savoye house, 1929-30, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>Modern Architecture</i>, p. 67)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_372'>372</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>48</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Walter Gropius: Dessau, Bauhaus, 1925-6, plans (from Hitchcock, <i>Modern Architecture</i>, p. 67)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_374'>374</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>49</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Project for brick country house, 1922, plan (from Johnson, <i>Mies van der Rohe</i>, p. 32)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_375'>375</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>50</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Brno, Tugendhat house, 1930, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>Modern Architecture</i>, p. 127)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_376'>376</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>51</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Le Corbusier: Marseilles, Unité d’Habitation, 1946-52, section of three storeys (from Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, <span class='fss'>V</span>, p. 211)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_386'>386</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>52</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Chicago, Illinois Institute of Technology, 1939-41, general plan (from Johnson, <i>Mies van der Rohe</i>, 2nd ed., p. 134)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_389'>389</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>53</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Plano, Ill., Dr Edith Farnsworth House, 1950, plan (from Johnson, <i>Mies van der Rohe</i>, p. 170)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_390'>390</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>54</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Sir Edwin Lutyens: Hampstead Garden Suburb, London, North and South Squares, 1908 (from Weaver, <i>Houses and Gardens</i> (Country Life), 1913, figure 480)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_406'>406</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>55</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Saarinen &amp; Saarinen: Warren, Mich., General Motors Technical Institute, 1946-55, layout (Courtesy of General Motors)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_419'>419</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>56</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Osvaldo Arthur Bratke: São Paulo, Morumbí, Bratke house, 1953, plan (from Hitchcock, <i>Latin American Architecture</i>, p. 174)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_425'>425</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="3">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c014'>57</td>
+    <td class='c015'>Philip Johnson: Wayzata, Minn., Richard S. Davis house, 1954 (from <i>Architectural Review</i>, 1955, pp. 236-47)</td>
+    <td class='c016'><a href='#Page_426'>426</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>
+  <h2 id='plates' class='c017'>LIST OF PLATES</h2>
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+    <div>ABBREVIATION N.B.R. – NATIONAL BUILDINGS RECORD</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<table class='table1' summary=''>
+<colgroup>
+<col width='12%' />
+<col width='87%' />
+</colgroup>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl001'>1</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-G. Soufflot and others: Paris, Panthéon (Sainte-Geneviève), 1757-90 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl002a'>2 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C.-N. Ledoux: Paris, Barrière de la Villette, 1784-9 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl002b'>2 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C.-N. Ledoux: Project for Coopery, c. 1785 (from Ledoux, <i>L’ Architecture</i>, 1)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl002c'>2 (<span class='fss'>C</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>L.-E. Boullée: Project for City Hall, c. 1785 (H. Rosenau)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl003'>3</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Consols Office, 1794 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl004a'>4 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Waiting Room Court, 1804 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl004b'>4 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. F. Hansen: Copenhagen, Vor Frue Kirke, 1811-29 (Kongelige Bibliotek, Copenhagen)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl005'>5</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Benjamin H. Latrobe: Baltimore, Catholic Cathedral, 1805-18 (J. H. Schaefer &amp; Son)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl006a'>6 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir John Soane: Tyringham, Buckinghamshire, Entrance Gate, 1792-7 (Soane Museum)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl006b'>6 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Percier and Fontaine: Paris, Rue de Rivoli, 1802-55 (A. Leconte)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl007'>7</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-F.-T. Chalgrin and others: Paris, Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile, 1806-35 (Giraudon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl008a'>8 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas de Thomon: Petersburg, Bourse, 1804-16 (Courtesy of T. J. McCormick)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl008b'>8 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A.-T. Brongniart and others: Paris, Bourse, 1808-15 (R. Viollet)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl009a'>9 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich Gilly: Project for monument to Frederick the Great, 1797 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl009b'>9 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Leo von Klenze: Munich, Glyptothek, 1816-30 (F. Kaufmann)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl010a'>10 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich Weinbrenner: Karlsruhe, Marktplatz, 1804-24 (Staatliches Amt für Denkmalpflege, Karlsruhe)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl010b'>10 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich von Gärtner: Munich, Ludwigskirche and Staatsbibliothek, 1829-40 and 1831-40 (from an engraving by E. Rauch)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl011a'>11 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Heinrich Hübsch: Baden-Baden, Trinkhalle, 1840 (H. Kuhn)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl011b'>11 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Wimmel &amp; Forsmann: Hamburg, Johanneum, 1836-9 (E. Gorsten)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl012'>12</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Schauspielhaus, 1819-21</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl013'>13</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Altes Museum, 1824-8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl014a'>14 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>K. F. von Schinkel: Potsdam, Court Gardener’s House, 1829-31</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl014b'>14 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. L. F. Laves: Hanover, Opera House, 1845-52 (H. Wagner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl015'>15</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ludwig Persius: Potsdam, Friedenskirche, 1845-8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl016a'>16 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Leo von Klenze: Regensburg (nr), Walhalla, 1831-42 (from Klenze, <i>Walhalla</i>, plate <span class='fss'>VI</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl016b'>16 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>M. G. B. Bindesbøll: Copenhagen, Thorwaldsen Museum, Court, 1839-48 (Jonals)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl017a'>17 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich von Gärtner: Athens, Old Palace, 1837-41 (Tensi)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl017b'>17 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Peter Speeth: Würzburg, Frauenzuchthaus, 1809 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl018a'>18 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>P.-F.-L. Fontaine: Paris, Chapelle Expiatoire, 1816-24 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl018b'>18 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>L.-H. Lebas: Paris, Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, 1823-36 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl019'>19</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-B. Lepère and J.-I. Hittorff: Paris, Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, 1824-44 (from <i>Paris dans sa splendeur</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl020'>20</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Douillard Frères: Nantes, Hospice Général, 1832-6 (from Gourlier, <i>Choix d’édifices publics</i>, III)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl021'>21</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, 1843-50 (Bulloz)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl022a'>22 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>É.-H. Godde and J.-B. Lesueur: Paris, extension of Hôtel de Ville, 1837-49 (from a contemporary lithograph)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl022b'>22 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>F.-A. Duquesney: Paris, Gare de l’Est, 1847-52 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl023a'>23 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Giuseppe Jappelli and Antonio Gradenigo: Padua, Caffè Pedrocchi, 1816-31 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl023b'>23 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Antonio Niccolini: Naples, San Carlo Opera House, 1810-12 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl024'>24</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Raffaelle Stern: Rome, Vatican Museum, Braccio Nuovo, 1817-21 (D. Anderson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span><a href='#pl025'>25</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A. de Simone: Caserta, Royal Palace, Sala di Marte, 1807 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl026a'>26 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Pietro Bianchi: Naples, San Francesco di Paola, 1816-24 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl026b'>26 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Giuseppe Frizzi and others: Turin, Piazza Vittorio Veneto, laid out in 1818; with Gran Madre di Dio by Ferdinando Bonsignore, 1818-31 (G. Cambursano)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl027a'>27 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A. A. Monferran: Petersburg, St Isaac’s Cathedral, 1817-57 (Mansell)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl027b'>27 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A. A. Monferran: Petersburg, Alexander Column, 1829; and K. I. Rossi: Petersburg, General Staff Arches, 1819-29 (Courtesy of T. J. McCormick)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl027c'>27 (<span class='fss'>C</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A.-J. Pellechet: Paris, block of flats, 10 Place de la Bourse, 1834 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl028a'>28 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir John Soane: London, Royal Hospital, Chelsea, Stables, 1814-17 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl028b'>28 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Colonial Office, 1818-23 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl029'>29</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alexander Thomson: Glasgow, Caledonia Road Free Church, 1856-7 (T. &amp; R. Annan)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl030'>30</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Nash: London, Piccadilly Circus and Lower Regent Street, 1817-19 (from lithograph by T. S. Boys)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl031'>31</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>London, Hyde Park Corner: Decimus Burton, Screen, 1825, Arch, 1825; William Wilkins, St George’s Hospital, 1827-8; Benjamin Dean Wyatt, Apsley House, 1828 (from lithograph by T. S. Boys)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl032'>32</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Nash and James Thomson: London, Regent’s Park, Cumberland Terrace, 1826-7 (A. F. Kersting)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl033'>33</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Robert Smirke: London, British Museum, south front, completed 1847 (A. F. Kersting)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl034a'>34 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. L. Elmes: Liverpool, St George’s Hall, 1841-54 (Hulton Picture Library)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl034b'>34 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>W. H. Playfair: Edinburgh, Royal Scottish Institution, National Gallery of Scotland, and Free Church College, 1822-36, 1850-4, and 1846-50 (F. C. Inglis)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl035a'>35 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alexander Thomson: Glasgow, Moray Place, Strathbungo, 1859 (T. &amp; R. Annan)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl035b'>35 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Charles Barry: London, Travellers’ Club and Reform Club, 1830-2 and 1838-40 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl036'>36</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. W. Wild: London, Christ Church, Streatham, 1840-2 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl037a'>37 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Charles Barry: original design for Highclere Castle, Hampshire, <i>c.</i> 1840 (S. W. Newbery)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl037b'>37 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Cuthbert Brodrick: Leeds, Corn Exchange, 1860-3 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl038a'>38 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Robert Mills: Washington, Treasury Department, 1836-42 (Horydczak)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl038b'>38 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas Jefferson: Charlottesville, Va. University of Virginia, 1817-26 (F. Nichols)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl039a'>39 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas U. Walter and others: Columbus, Ohio, State Capitol, 1839-61 (Ohio Development and Publicity Commission)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl039b'>39 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>James C. Bucklin: Providence, R.I., Washington Buildings, 1843 (F. Hacker)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl040'>40</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Strickland: Philadelphia, Merchants’ Exchange, 1832-4 (Historical Society of Pennsylvania)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl041'>41</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Isaiah Rogers: Boston, Tremont House, 1828-9 (from Eliot, <i>A Description of the Tremont House</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl042a'>42 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A. J. Davis: New York, Colonnade Row, 1832 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl042b'>42 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Russell Warren: Newport, R.I., Elmhyrst, <i>c.</i> 1833 (from Hitchcock, <i>Rhode Island Architecture</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl043a'>43 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Henry A. Sykes: Springfield, Mass., Stebbins house, 1849 (R.E. Pope)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl043b'>43 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alexander Parris: Boston, David Sears house, 1816 (Southworth &amp; Hawes)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl044'>44</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas A. Tefft: Providence, R.I., Union Station, begun 1848 (R.I. Historical Society)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl045'>45</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Amherst, Mass., Amherst College, Dormitories, 1821-2, Chapel, 1827 (Courtesy of Amherst College)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl046'>46</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Clarke: Utica, N.Y., Insane Asylum, 1837-43 (Courtesy of Munson-Williams-Proctor Institute)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl047a'>47 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Notman: Philadelphia, Atheneum, 1845-7 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl047b'>47 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. M. J. Rebelo: Rio de Janeiro, Palacio Itamaratí, 1851-4 (G. E. Kidder Smith)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl048'>48</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Nash: Brighton, Royal Pavilion, as remodelled 1815-23 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl049'>49</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. A. Busby: Gwrych Castle, near Abergele, completed 1815</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl050a'>50 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Nash: Blaise Hamlet, near Bristol, 1811 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl050b'>50 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas Rickman and Henry Hutchinson: Cambridge, St John’s College, New Court, 1825-31 (A. C. Barrington Brown)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl051'>51</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. M. Kemp: Edinburgh, Sir Walter Scott Monument, 1840-6 (F. C. Inglis)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl052a'>52 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A. W. N. Pugin: Cheadle, Staffordshire, St Giles’s, 1841-6 (M. Whiffen)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl052b'>52 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir G. G. Scott: Hamburg, Nikolaikirche, 1845-63 (Staatliche Landesbildstelle, Hamburg)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span><a href='#pl053a'>53 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Richard Upjohn: New York, Trinity Church, <i>c.</i> 1844-6 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl053b'>53 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Richard Upjohn: Utica, N.Y., City Hall, 1852-3 (H. Lott)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl054'>54</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Charles Barry: London, Houses of Parliament, 1840-65 (A. F. Kersting)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl055a'>55 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Salem, Mass., First Unitarian (North) Church, 1836-7 (Courtesy of Essex Institute, Salem)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl055b'>55 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>F.-C. Gau and Théodore Ballu: Paris, Sainte-Clotilde, 1846-57 (from <i>Paris dans sa splendeur</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl056'>56</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: Paris, block of flats, 28 Rue de Liège, 1846-8 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl057a'>57 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alexis de Chateauneuf and Fersenfeld: Hamburg, Petrikirche, 1843-9</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl057b'>57 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. A. Demmler and F. A. Stüler: Schwerin, Schloss, 1844-57 (Institut für Denkmalpflege, Schwerin)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl058a'>58 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Nash: Brighton, Royal Pavilion, Kitchen, 1818-21 (Brighton Corporation)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl058b'>58 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas Telford: Menai Strait, Menai Bridge, 1819-24 (W. Scott)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl059'>59</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas Telford: Craigellachie Bridge, 1815 (A. Reiach)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl060a'>60 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John A. Roebling: Niagara Falls, Suspension Bridge, 1852 (Courtesy of Eastman House)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl060b'>60 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas Hopper: London, Carlton House, Conservatory, 1811-12 (from Pyne, <i>Royal Residences</i>, <span class='fss'>III</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl061'>61</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Robert Stephenson and Francis Thompson: Menai Strait, Britannia Bridge, 1845-50 (Hulton Picture Library)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl062a'>62 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Grisart &amp; Froehlicher: Paris, Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie, section, 1838 (from Normand, <i>Paris Moderne</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl062b'>62 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Robert Stephenson and Francis Thompson: Derby, Trijunct Railway Station, 1839-41 (from Russell, <i>Nature on Stone</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl063'>63</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. B. Bunning: London, Coal Exchange, 1846-9 (from <i>Builder</i>, 29 Sept. 1849)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl064'>64</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Joseph Paxton and Fox &amp; Henderson: London, Crystal Palace, 1850-1 (from <i>Builder</i>, 4 Jan. 1851)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl065'>65</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>I. K. Brunel and Sir M. D. Wyatt: London, Paddington Station, 1852-4 (from <i>Illustrated London News</i>, 8 July 1854)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl066a'>66 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Lewis Cubitt: London, King’s Cross Station, 1851-2 (British Railways)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl066b'>66 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Karl Etzel: Vienna, Dianabad, 1841-3 (from <i>Allgemeine Bauzeitung</i>, 1843)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl067a'>67 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Decimus Burton and Richard Turner: Kew, Palm Stove, 1845-7 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl067b'>67 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>James Bogardus; New York, Laing Stores, 1849 (B. Abbott)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl068'>68</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>L.-T.-J. Visconti and H.-M. Lefuel: Paris, New Louvre, 1852-7 (Giraudon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl069'>69</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Reading Room, 1862-8 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl070a'>70 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H.-J. Espérandieu: Marseilles, Palais Longchamps, 1862-9 (R. Viollet)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl070b'>70 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, 1861-74 (Édition Alfa)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl070c'>70 (<span class='fss'>C</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Charles Rohault de Fleury and Henri Blondel: Paris, Place de l’Opéra, 1858-64 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl071'>71</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, Foyer, 1861-74 (Bulloz)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl072a'>72 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-A.-E. Vaudremer: Paris, Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge, 1864-70 (R. Viollet)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl072b'>72 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-F. Duban: Paris, École des Beaux-Arts, 1860-2 (Giraudon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl073a'>73 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Gottfried Semper and Karl von Hasenauer: Vienna, Burgtheater, 1874-88 (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl073b'>73 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Theophil von Hansen: Vienna, Heinrichshof, 1861-3 (from a water-colour by Rudolf von Alt)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl074'>74</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Vienna, Ringstrasse, begun 1858 (from a water-colour by Rudolf von Alt)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl075a'>75 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>A.-F. Mortier: Paris, block of flats, 11 Rue de Milan, <i>c.</i> 1860 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl075b'>75 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Giuseppe Mengoni: Milan, Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele, 1865-77 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl076a'>76 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Gaetano Koch: Rome, Esedra, 1885 (Fotorapida Terni)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl076b'>76 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J.-A.-F.-A. Pellechet: Barnard Castle, Co. Durham, Bowes Museum, 1869-75 (Copyright Country Life)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl077a'>77 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich Hitzig: Berlin, Exchange, 1859-63 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl077b'>77 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Julius Raschdorf: Cologne, Opera House, 1870-2 (Courtesy of Rheinisches Museum, Cologne)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl078a'>78 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Cuthbert Brodrick: Leeds, Town Hall, 1855-9 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl078b'>78 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Charles Barry: Halifax, Town Hall, 1860-2 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl079'>79</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Cuthbert Brodrick: Scarborough, Grand Hotel, 1863-7 (Walkers Studios)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl080a'>80 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>John Giles: London, Langham Hotel, 1864-6 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl080b'>80 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>London, 1-5 Grosvenor Place, begun 1867 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl081'>81</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Joseph Poelaert: Brussels, Palace of Justice, 1866-83 (Archives Centrales Iconographiques, Brussels)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xiv'>xiv</span><a href='#pl082a'>82 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Thomas U. Walter: Washington, Capitol, Wings and Dome, 1851-65; Central Block by William Thornton and others, 1792-1828 (from <i>American Architect</i>, 30 Jan. 1904)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl082b'>82 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Arthur B. Mullet; Arthur Gilman consultant: Washington, State, War and Navy Department Building, 1871-5 (Horydczak)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl083a'>83 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir M. D. Wyatt: London, Alford House, 1872 (Victoria and Albert Museum, Crown Copyright)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl083b'>83 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Francis Fowke: London, Victoria and Albert Museum, Court, begun 1866 (Victoria and Albert Museum, Crown Copyright)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl084'>84</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Georg von Dollmann: Schloss Linderhof, near Oberammergau, 1870-86 (L. Aufsberg)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl085'>85</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Butterfield: London, All Saints’, Margaret Street, interior, 1849-59 (S.W. Newbery)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl086a'>86 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Butterfield: London, All Saints’, Margaret Street, Schools and Clergy House, 1849-59 (S.W. Newbery)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl086b'>86 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Deane &amp; Woodward: Oxford, University Museum, 1855-9</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl087'>87</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Butterfield: Baldersby St James, Yorkshire, St James’s, 1856 (R. Cox)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl088'>88</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Burges: Hartford, Conn., project for Trinity College, 1873 (from Pullan, <i>Architectural Designs of William Burges</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl089a'>89 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Henry Clutton: Leamington, Warwickshire, St Peter’s, 1861-5 (J. E. Duggins)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl089b'>89 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>James Brooks: London, St Saviour’s, Hoxton, 1865-7 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl090'>90</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir G. G. Scott: London, Albert Memorial, 1863-72 (A. F. Kersting)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl091a'>91 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. P. Seddon: Aberystwyth, University College, begun 1864 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl091b'>91 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Medford, Mass., Grace Church, 1867-8 (from <i>American Architect</i>, 8 Feb. 1890)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl092a'>92 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E. W. Godwin: Congleton, Cheshire, Town Hall, 1864-7 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl092b'>92 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. F. Bodley: Pendlebury, Lancashire, St Augustine’s, 1870-4 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl093a'>93 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. L. Pearson: London, St Augustine’s, Kilburn, 1870-80 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl093b'>93 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Edmund E. Scott: Brighton, St Bartholomew’s, completed 1875 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl094a'>94 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: Bingley, Yorkshire, Holy Trinity, 1866-7 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl094b'>94 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. E. Street: London, St James the Less, Thorndike Street, 1858-61 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl095a'>95 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ware &amp; Van Brunt: Cambridge, Mass., Memorial Hall, 1870-8 (J. K. Ufford)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl095b'>95 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Furness: Philadelphia, Provident Life and Trust Company, 1879 (J. L. Dillon &amp; Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl096a'>96 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Russell Sturgis: New Haven, Conn., Yale College, Farnam Hall, 1869-70 (C. L. V. Meeks)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl096b'>96 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Palau Güell, 1885-9 (Arxiu Mas)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl097a'>97 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Fuller &amp; Jones: Ottawa, Canada, Parliament House, 1859-67 (Courtesy of Public Archives of Canada)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl097b'>97 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Morris and Philip Webb: London, Victoria and Albert Museum, Refreshment Room, 1867 (Victoria and Albert Museum, Crown copyright)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl098'>98</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: St-Denis, Seine, Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée, 1864-7 (Archives Photographiques—Paris)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl099a'>99 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Heinrich von Ferstel: Vienna, Votivkirche, 1856-79 (P. Ledermann)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl099b'>99 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Friedrich von Schmidt: Vienna, Fünfhaus Parish Church, 1868-75 (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl100'>100</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>G. E. Street: Rome, St Paul’s American Church, 1873-6 (Alinari)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl101a'>101 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: Paris, block of flats, 15 Rue de Douai, c. 1860 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl101b'>101 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>P. J. H. Cuijpers: Amsterdam, Maria Magdalenakerk, 1887 (Lichtbeelden Instituut)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl101c'>101 (<span class='fss'>C</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>P. J. H. Cuijpers: Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, 1877-85 (J. G. van Agtmaal)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl102a'>102 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Philip Webb: Smeaton Manor, Yorkshire, 1877-9 (O. H. Wicksteed)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl102b'>102 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: Withyham, Sussex, Glen Andred, 1866-7 (Courtesy of F. Goodwin)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl103'>103</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, Old Swan House, 1876 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl104a'>104 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, Albert Hall Mansions, 1879 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl104b'>104 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>George &amp; Peto: London, W. S. Gilbert house, 1882 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl105'>105</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, Fred White house, 1887 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl106a'>106 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, Holy Trinity, Latimer Road, 1887-9 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl106b'>106 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, New Scotland Yard, 1887 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl107'>107</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: London, Piccadilly Hotel, 1905-8 (Bedford Lemere)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl108a'>108 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Boston, Trinity Church, 1873-7 (from Van Rensselaer, <i>Henry Hobson Richardson</i>, 1888)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xv'>xv</span><a href='#pl108b'>108 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Pittsburgh, Penna., Allegheny County Jail, 1884-8</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl109a'>109 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Charles B. Atwood: Chicago, World’s Fair, Fine Arts Building, 1892-3 (from <i>American Architect</i>, 22 Oct. 1892)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl109b'>109 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: New York, Villard houses, 1883-5 (from <i>Monograph</i>, <span class='c003'>1</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl110'>110</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Quincy, Mass., Crane Library, 1880-3 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl111'>111</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: Boston, Public Library, 1888-92 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl112a'>112 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. R. Cockerell: Liverpool, Bank Chambers, 1849 (J. R. Johnson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl112b'>112 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alexander Parris: Boston, North Market Street, designed 1823 (B. Abbott)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl113'>113</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E. W. Godwin: Bristol, 104 Stokes Croft, <i>c.</i> 1862 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl114a'>114 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Peter Ellis: Liverpool, Oriel Chambers, 1864-5 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl114b'>114 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Lockwood &amp; Mawson(?): Bradford, Yorkshire, Kassapian’s Warehouse, <i>c.</i> 1862 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl115a'>115 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>George B. Post: New York, Western Union Building, 1873-5 (Courtesy of Museum of the City of New York)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl115b'>115 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>D. H. Burnham &amp; Co.: Chicago, Reliance Building, 1894 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl116a'>116 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Hartford, Conn., Brown-Thompson Department Store (Cheney Block), 1875-6</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl116b'>116 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Chicago, Marshall Field Wholesale Store, 1885-7 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl117a'>117 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adler &amp; Sullivan: Chicago, Auditorium Building, 1887-9 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl117b'>117 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Le B. Jenney: Chicago, Sears, Roebuck &amp; Co. (Leiter) Building, 1889-90 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl118'>118</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adler &amp; Sullivan: St Louis, Wainwright Building, 1890-1 (Bill Hedrich, Hedrich-Blessing)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl119'>119</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adler &amp; Sullivan: Buffalo, N.Y., Guaranty Building, 1894-5 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl120'>120</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Holabird &amp; Roche; Louis H. Sullivan: Chicago, 19-20 South Michigan Avenue; Gage Building, 1898-9 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl121'>121</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Louis H. Sullivan: Chicago, Carson, Pirie &amp; Scott Department Store, 1899-1901, 1903-4 (Chicago Architectural Photographing Co.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl122a'>122 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. B. Papworth: ‘Cottage Orné’, 1818 (from <i>Rural Residences</i>, plate <span class='fss'>XIII</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl122b'>122 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>William Butterfield: Coalpitheath, Gloucestershire, St Saviour’s Vicarage, 1844-5 (N.B.R.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl123'>123</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>R. Norman Shaw: nr Withyham, Sussex, Leyswood, 1868 (from <i>Building News</i>, 31 March 1871)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl124a'>124 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Dudley Newton: Middletown, R.I., Sturtevant house, 1872 (W. K. Covell)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl124b'>124 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. H. Richardson: Cambridge, Mass., Stoughton house, 1882-3 (from Sheldon, <i>Artistic Country Seats</i>, <span class='c003'>1</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl125a'>125 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: Elberon, N.J., H. Victor Newcomb house, 1880-1 (from <i>Artistic Houses</i>, 2, Pt <span class='fss'>I</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl125b'>125 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Bruce Price: Tuxedo Park, N.Y., Pierre Lorillard house, 1885-6 (from Sheldon, <i>Artistic Country Seats</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl126'>126</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: Newport R.I., Isaac Bell, Jr, house, 1881-2</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl127'>127</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: Bristol, R.I., W. G. Low house, 1887</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl128a'>128 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: River Forest, Ill., W. H. Winslow house, 1893</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl128b'>128 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: River Forest, Ill., River Forest Golf Club, 1898, 1901 (from <i>Ausgeführte Bauten und Entwürfe</i>, 1910, pl. xi)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl129a'>129 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. F. A. Voysey: Hog’s Back, Surrey, Julian Sturgis house, elevation, 1896 (Courtesy of Royal Institute of British Architects)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl129b'>129 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. F. A. Voysey: Lake Windermere, Broadleys, 1898-9 (Courtesy of J. Brandon-Jones)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl130a'>130 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Gustave Eiffel: Paris, Eiffel Tower, 1887-9 (N. D. Giraudon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl130b'>130 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, Tassel house, 1892-3</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl131a'>131 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, Solvay house, 1895-1900 (Archives Centrales Iconographiques, Brussels)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl131b'>131 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, L’Innovation Department Store, 1901 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl132a'>132 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. R. Mackintosh: Glasgow, School of Art, 1897-9 (T. &amp; R. Annan)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl132b'>132 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, Maison du Peuple, interior, 1896-9 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl133'>133</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frantz Jourdain: Paris, Samaritaine Department Store, 1905 (from <i>L’Architecte</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>, 1906, plate <span class='fss'>X</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xvi'>xvi</span><a href='#pl134a'>134 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Auguste Perret: Paris, block of flats, 119 Avenue Wagram, 1902 (from <i>L’Architecte</i>, I, 1906, plate <span class='fss'>XIV</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl134b'>134 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. Harrison Townsend: London, Whitechapel Art Gallery, 1897-9 (from Muthesius, <i>Englische Baukunst der Gegenwart</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl135a'>135 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>C. R. Mackintosh: Glasgow, School of Art, 1907-8 (T. &amp; R. Annan)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl135b'>135 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, ground storey, 1905-7 (Arxiu Mas)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl136'>136</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Batlló, front, 1905-7 (Arxiu Mas)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl137a'>137 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, 1905-7 (Soberanas Postales)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl137b'>137 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Hector Guimard: Paris, Gare du Métropolitain, Place Bastille, 1900 (R. Viollet)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl138a'>138 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Otto Wagner: Vienna, Majolika Haus, <i>c.</i> 1898 (from <i>L’Architecte</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, 1905)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl138b'>138 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. P. Berlage: London, Holland House, 1914 (from Gratama, <i>Dr H. P. Berlage, Bouwmeester</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl139a'>139 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Auguste Perret: Paris, Garage Ponthieu, 1905-6 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl139b'>139 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Place de la Porte de Passy, 1930-2 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl140a'>140 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Auguste Perret: Le Havre, Place de l’Hôtel de Ville, 1948-54 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl140b'>140 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Auguste Perret: Paris, Ministry of Marine, Avenue Victor, 1929-30 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl141'>141</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Auguste Perret: Le Rainey, S.-et-O., Notre-Dame, 1922-3 (Chevojon)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl142a'>142 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Kankakee, Ill., Warren Hickox house, 1900</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl142b'>142 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Highland Park, Ill., W. W. Willitts house, 1902 (Fuermann)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl143a'>143 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Delavan Lake, Wis., C. S. Ross house, 1902</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl143b'>143 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Oak Park, Ill., Unity Church, 1906 (Russo)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl144'>144</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Pasadena, Cal., Mrs G. M. Millard house, 1923 (W. Albert Martin)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl145a'>145 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Falling Water, Pennsylvania, 1936-7 (Hedrich-Blessing Studio)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl145b'>145 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Pleasantville, N.Y., Sol Friedman house, 1948-9 (Ezra Stoller)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl146a'>146 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: Racine, Wisconsin, S. C. Johnson and Sons, Administration Building and Laboratory Tower, 1936-9 and 1946-9 (Ezra Stoller)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl146b'>146 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Bernard Maybeck: Berkeley, Cal., Christian Science Church, 1910 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl147a'>147 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Greene &amp; Greene: Pasadena, Cal., D. B. Gamble house, 1908-9 (W. Andrews)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl147b'>147 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Irving Gill: Los Angeles, Walter Dodge house, 1915-16 (E. McCoy)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl148a'>148 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Peter Behrens: Berlin, A.E.G. Small Motors Factory, 1910 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl148b'>148 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Peter Behrens: Hagen-Eppenhausen, Cuno and Schröder houses, 1909-10 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl149a'>149 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Peter Behrens: Berlin, A.E.G. Turbine Factory, 1909 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl149b'>149 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Max Berg: Breslau, Jahrhunderthalle, 1910-12 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl150'>150</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>H. P. Berlage: Amsterdam, Diamond Workers’ Union Building, 1899-1900 (Lichtbeelden Instituut)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl151'>151</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adolf Loos: Vienna, Kärntner Bar, 1907 (Gerlach)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl152'>152</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Bonatz &amp; Scholer: Stuttgart, Railway Station, 1911-14, 1919-27 (Windstosser)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl153a'>153 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Fritz Höger: Hamburg, Chilehaus, 1923 (Staatliche Landesbildstelle, Hamburg)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl153b'>153 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Erich Mendelsohn: Neubabelsberg, Einstein Tower, 1921 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl154a'>154 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Josef Hoffmann: Brussels, Stoclet house, 1905-11 (Archives Centrales Iconographiques, Brussels)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl154b'>154 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Otto Wagner: Vienna, Postal Savings Bank, 1904-6 (Österreichische Nationalbibliothek)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl155a'>155 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adolf Loos: Vienna, Gustav Scheu house, 1912 (from Glück, <i>Adolf Loos</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl155b'>155 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Adolf Loos: Vienna, Leopold Langer flat, 1901 (from Glück, <i>Adolf Loos</i>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl156a'>156 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Piet Kramer: Amsterdam, De Dageraad housing estate, 1918-23 (Lichtbeelden Instituut)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl156b'>156 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Michael de Klerk: Amsterdam, Eigen Haard housing estate, 1917 (Lichtbeelden Instituut)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl157a'>157 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>W. M. Dudok: Hilversum, Dr Bavinck School, 1921 (C. A. Deul)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl157b'>157 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Saarinen &amp; Saarinen: Minneapolis, Minn., Christ Lutheran Church, 1949-50 (G. M. Ryan)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl158a'>158 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Walter Gropius with Adolf Meyer: Project for Chicago Tribune Tower, 1922 (W. Gropius)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl158b'>158 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Walter Gropius and Adolf Meyer: Alfeld-an-der-Leine, Fagus Factory, 1911 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xvii'>xvii</span><a href='#pl159'>159</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Poissy, S.-et-O., Savoye house 1929-30 (L. Hervé)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl160a'>160 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Second project for Citrohan house, 1922 (from Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl160b'>160 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Garches, S.-et-O., Les Terrasses, 1927 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl161a'>161 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Walter Gropius: Dessau, Bauhaus, 1925-6 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl161b'>161 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Walter Gropius: Dessau, City Employment Office, 1927-8 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl162a'>162 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Walter Gropius: Berlin, Siemensstadt housing estate, 1929-30 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl162b'>162 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Stuttgart, block of flats, Weissenhof 1927 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl163a'>163 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Brinkman &amp; van der Vlugt: Rotterdam, van Nelle Factory, 1927 (E. M. van Ojen)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl163b'>163 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. J. P. Oud: Hook of Holland, housing estate, 1926-7 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl164a'>164 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>J. J. P. Oud: Rotterdam, church, Kiefhoek housing estate, 1928-30 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl164b'>164 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Gerrit Rietveld: Utrecht, Schroeder house, 1924 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl165a'>165 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Barcelona, German Exhibition Pavilion, 1929 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl165b'>165 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Paris, Swiss Hostel, Cité Universitaire, 1931-2 (L. Hervé)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl166'>166</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Marseilles, Unité d’Habitation, 1946-52 (Éditions de France)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl167'>167</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Ronchamp, Hte-Saône, Notre-Dame-du-Haut, 1950-4 (L. Hervé)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl168a'>168 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Le Corbusier: Éveux-sur-L’Arbresle, Rhône, Dominican monastery of La Tourette, 1957-61 (C. Michael Pearson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl168b'>168 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Eero Saarinen: Warren, Mich., General Motors Technical Institute, 1951-5 (Ezra Stoller)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl169'>169</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Howe &amp; Lescaze: Philadelphia, Philadelphia Savings Fund Society Building, 1932 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl170'>170</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Chicago, Ill., blocks of flats, 845-60 Lake Shore Drive, 1949-51 (Hube Henry, Hedrich-Blessing)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl171'>171</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Lúcio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer, and others (Le Corbusier consultant): Rio de Janeiro, Ministry of Education and Health, 1937-43 (G. E. Kidder Smith)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl172a'>172 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Giuseppe Terragni: Como, Casa del Fascio, 1932-6 (G. E. Kidder Smith)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl172b'>172 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Tecton: London, Regent’s Park Zoo, Penguin Pool, 1933-5 (Museum of Modern Art)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl173a'>173 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Martin Nyrop: Copenhagen, Town Hall, 1893-1902 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl173b'>173 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alvar Aalto: Säynatsälo, Municipal Buildings, 1951-3 (M. Quantrill)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl174a'>174 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ragnar Östberg: Stockholm, Town Hall, 1909-23 (Lindquist and Svandesson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl174b'>174 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ragnar Östberg: Stockholm, Town Hall, 1909-23 (Lindquist and Svandesson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl175a'>175 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sigfrid Ericson: Göteborg, Masthugg Church, 1910-14 (Courtesy of G. Paulsson)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl175b'>175 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>P. V. Jensen Klint: Copenhagen, Grundvig Church, 1913, 1921-6 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl176a'>176 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>E. G. Asplund: Stockholm City Library, 1921-8 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl176b'>176 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Edward Thomsen and G. B. Hagen: Gentofte Komune, Øregaard School, 1923-4 (F. R. Yerbury)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl177a'>177 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Cram &amp; Ferguson: Princeton, N.J., Graduate College, completed 1913 (E. Menzies)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl177b'>177 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Reed &amp; Stem and Warren &amp; Wetmore: New York, Grand Central Station, 1903-13 (New York Central Railroad)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl178'>178</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Cass Gilbert: New York, Woolworth Building, 1913 (J. H. Heffren)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl179'>179</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>McKim, Mead &amp; White: New York, University Club, 1899-1900 (from <i>Monograph</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl180'>180</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Henry Bacon: Washington, Lincoln Memorial, completed 1917 (Horydczak)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl181'>181</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Edwin Lutyens: Delhi, Viceroy’s House, 1920-31 (Copyright Country Life)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl182a'>182 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Alvar Aalto: Muuratsälo, architect’s own house, 1953 (Kolmio)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl182b'>182 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Sir Edwin Lutyens: Sonning, Deanery Gardens, 1901 (Copyright Country Life)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl183a'>183 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Victor Laloux: Paris, Gare d’Orsay, 1898-1900 (F. Stoedtner)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl183b'>183 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Eugenio Montuori and others: Rome, Termini Station, completed 1951 (Fototeca Centrale F.S.)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl184'>184</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Carlos Lazo and others: Mexico City, University City, begun <i>c.</i> 1950 (R. T. McKenna)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl185a'>185 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Kay Fisker and Eske Kristensen: Copenhagen, Kongegården Estate, 1955-6 (Strüwing)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl185b'>185 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Eero Saarinen: New Haven, Conn., Ezra Stiles and Samuel F. B. Morse College, 1960-2 (J. W. Molitor)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xviii'>xviii</span><a href='#pl186a'>186 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>James Cubitt &amp; Partners: Langleybury, Hertfordshire, school, 1955-6 (Architectural Design)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl186b'>186 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>London County Council Architect’s Office: London, Loughborough Road housing estate, 1954-6 (Architectural Review)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl187a'>187 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Kenzo Tange: Totsuka, Country Club, <i>c.</i> 1960 (Y. Futagawa)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl187b'>187 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Kunio Maekawa: Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, 1961 (Akio Kawasumi)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl188a'>188 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a><br />and<br /><a href='#pl188b'>(<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Frank Lloyd Wright: New York, Guggenheim Museum, (1943-6), 1956-9 (Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl189'>189</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill (Gordon Bunshaft): New York, Lever House, 1950-2 (Ezra Stoller)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl190a'>190 (<span class='fss'>A</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Philip C. Johnson: New Canaan, Conn., Boissonas house, 1955-6 (Ezra Stoller)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl190b'>190 (<span class='fss'>B</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Eero Saarinen: Chantilly, Va., Dulles International Airport, 1960-3 (B. Korab)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl190c'>190 (<span class='fss'>C</span>)</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Oscar Niemeyer: Pampulha, São Francisco, 1943 (M. Gautherot)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl191'>191</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Hentrich &amp; Petschnigg: Düsseldorf, Thyssen Haus, 1958-60 (Arno Wrubel)</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr><td colspan="2">&nbsp;</td></tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class='c018'><a href='#pl192'>192</a></td>
+    <td class='c019'>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Philip Johnson: New York, Seagram Building, 1956-8 (A. Georges)</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_xix'>xix</span>
+  <h2 class='c013'>ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><i>My</i> Modern Architecture: Romanticism and Reintegration
+<i>appeared in 1929. It was an early attempt to relate the newest
+architecture of the nineteen-twenties to that of the preceding century
+and a half. In the thirty years that followed I have studied, in
+varying degrees of detail, many aspects of the story of architecture
+in the last two hundred years, from the ‘Romantic’ gardens of the mid
+eighteenth century to Latin-American building of the mid twentieth. In
+the process debts of gratitude have accumulated that can never be
+discharged, least of all here. Moreover, immediately before writing
+this book I visited a dozen countries in the New World, and during its
+composition in London—made possible by a sabbatical leave from Smith
+College for the academic year 1955-6—I visited another dozen in the
+Old World. It would be manifestly impossible even to list all
+those—first of all in England and America, but also all the way from
+Athens to Bogotá—who assisted me in various ways in the gathering of
+material. They will, I trust, understand and accept this generalized
+expression of my thanks.</i></p>
+<p class='c010'><i>Not least of the problems of preparing such a book as this is the
+finding of photographs. The names of the photographers responsible for
+the plates (or in a few cases those who obtained photographs for me)
+are given in the list of plates. The material for the figures, mostly
+redrawn for this book by P. J. Darvall, came largely from books and
+drawings in the libraries of the Royal Institute of British Architects
+and the Victoria and Albert Museum, to whose authorities my thanks are
+due, as also for notable assistance of various other sorts. The
+co-operation of the National Buildings Record, which was generously
+ready to add to their so extensive files photographs newly taken for
+use in this book, deserves specific mention here. In certain other
+cases I am not quite sure whether photographs were taken especially
+for me or not, but I must express gratitude in this connexion also to
+Professor Frederick D. Nichols of the University of Virginia, to the
+Staatliche Landesbildstelle of Hamburg, to the Institut für
+Denkmalpflege of Schwerin, and to Professor Donald Egbert of Princeton
+University.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>The notes indicate a considerable number of the fellow scholars who
+have assisted me in one way or another. But I would like to mention
+more particularly the following, who were good enough to read chapters
+or sections covering matters of which they had expert knowledge: John
+Summerson, Dorothy Stroud, John Brandon-Jones, Fello Atkinson, Robin
+Middleton, Turpin Bannister, Winston Weisman, James Grady, William
+Jordy, and Reyner Banham, not to speak of the Editor of the Pelican
+History of Art, whose contribution in a field especially his own was
+naturally of the utmost value. Needless to say these friends bear no
+responsibility for what appears here, but the importance of their
+contribution will often be very apparent in the notes. Robert
+Rosenblum did a very large part of the work of gathering the
+bibliography, a notable service to the author of a book such as this,
+as well as checking innumerable note references.</i></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>Finally I must mention Mary Elkington, whose intelligent typing of
+successive drafts of the manuscript made revision a pleasure.</i></p>
+<div class='c021'><i>H. R. H.</i></div>
+<div class='c021'><i>1958</i></div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_xx'>xx</span>
+  <h2 class='c013'>PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c022'><i><span class='sc'>The</span> present edition is no drastic revision of the original one. Only
+a paragraph or two has been omitted or rewritten, and the one wholly
+new section is the <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>. However, very many corrections and
+additions have been made in detail, following suggestions made by
+reviewers and including facts supplied by others, notably John
+Jacobus, Robin Middleton, Pieter Singelenberg, John Harris, Fritz
+Novotny, Malcolm Quantrill, Carroll Meeks, and Kevin Dynan
+among a host of correspondents who have kindly answered specific
+queries or volunteered relevant information. No changes have been
+made in the <a href='#figs'>Figures</a> and only about a dozen in the Plates, chiefly at
+the end where it was possible to introduce the influential work of
+Aalto and characteristic examples of late Japanese work by reducing
+the Latin-American representation, not to speak of important works
+by Wright, Le Corbusier, and Mies completed since the original
+edition was prepared. The sources of the new photographs are
+indicated in the <a href='#plates'>List of Plates</a>, but I must specially thank Messrs
+Hentrich and Johnson, among the architects, for their assistance and
+also J. M. Richards of the</i> Architectural Review <i>from whose files
+come the Japanese material and one of the Aalto illustrations</i>.</p>
+<p class='c023'><i>A certain number of new <a href='#notes'>Notes</a> (indicated by a letter after the
+number) have been added and many were largely rewritten. The
+Bibliography has been extended to include titles posterior to the
+date of the original edition.</i></p>
+<div class='c024'><i>H. R. H.</i></div>
+<div class='c024'><i>1962</i></div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_xxi'>xxi</span>
+  <h2 id='intro' class='c013'>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> round numbers of chronology have no necessary
+significance historically. Centuries as cultural entities often begin
+and end decades before or after the hundred-year mark. The years
+around 1800, however, do provide a significant break in the history of
+architecture, not so much because of any major shift in style at that
+precise point as because the Napoleonic Wars caused a general hiatus
+in building production. The last major European style, the Baroque,
+had been all but dissolved away in most of Europe. The beginnings of
+several differing kinds of reaction against it—Academic in Italy,
+Rococo in France, Palladian in England—go back as far as the first
+quarter of the century; shortly after the mid century there came a
+more concerted stylistic revolution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>1750 and 1790 the new style that is called ‘Romantic Classicism’<a id="r1"></a><a href='#f1' class='c025'><sup>[1]</sup></a>
+took form, producing by the eighties its most remarkable projects, and
+even before that some executed work of consequence in France and in
+England. Thus the nineteenth century could inherit the tradition of a
+completed architectural revolution, and at its very outset was in
+possession of a style that had been fully mature for more than a
+decade. The most effective reaction against the Baroque in the second,
+and even to some extent the third, quarter of the eighteenth century
+had taken place in England; the later architectural revolution that
+actually initiated Romantic Classicism centred in France.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet Paris was not the original locus of the new style’s gestation but
+rather Rome.<a id="r2"></a><a href='#f2' class='c025'><sup>[2]</sup></a> From the early sixteenth century Rome had provided the
+international headquarters from which new ideas in the arts, by no
+means necessarily originated there, were distributed to the Western
+world. To Rome came generation after generation of young artists,
+connoisseurs, and collectors to form their taste and to formulate
+their aesthetic ideals. Some even settled there for life. From the
+time of Colbert the French State maintained an academic establishment
+in Rome for the post-graduate training of artists. Thus French
+hegemony in the arts of the late seventeenth and early eighteenth
+centuries was based on a tradition maintained and renewed at Rome. The
+nationals of other countries came to Rome more informally, and were
+for the most part supported by their own funds or by private patrons;
+only in the seventies were young English architects of promise first
+awarded travelling studentships by George III. In the fifties the
+number of northern architects studying in Rome notably increased; some
+of them, beginning with the Scot Robert Mylne (1734-1811) in 1758, won
+prizes in the competitions held by the Roman Academy of St Luke.<a id="r3"></a><a href='#f3' class='c025'><sup>[3]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The initiation of Romantic Classicism was by no means solely in the
+hands of architects. In the mid-century period of Roman gestation,
+Winckelmann, Gavin Hamilton, and Piranesi—a German archaeologist, a
+Scottish painter, and a Venetian etcher—played significant roles, as
+well as various architects, some <i>pensionnaires</i> of the French
+Academy, others Britons studying on their own. Certain aspects of
+Romantic Classicism
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxii'>xxii</span>(1720-78), not the projects in his <i>Prima parte di architettura</i>
+of 1743 or the plates of ruins in his <i>Antichità romane</i> of 1748
+but his fanciful Carceri dating from the mid 1740s. On the theoretical
+side the <i>Essai sur l’architecture</i> of M.-A. Laugier (1713-70),
+which first appeared anonymously in 1751 with further editions in
+1752, 1753, and 1755, had something of real consequence to contribute
+as a basic critique of the dying Baroque style. In simple terms
+Laugier may be called both a Neo-Classicist and a Functionalist. The
+bolder functionalist ideas of an Italian Franciscan Carlo Lodoli
+(1690-1761) as presented by Francesco Algarotti in his <i>Lettere
+sopra l’architettura</i>, beginning in 1742, and in his <i>Saggio
+sopra l’architettura</i> of 1756 were also influential. However,
+despite all the new archaeological treatises inspired by the Roman
+milieu, of which the first was the <i>Ruins of Palmyra</i> published
+in 1753 by Robert Wood (1717-71), and all the excavations undertaken
+at Herculaneum over the years 1738-65 and those at Pompeii beginning a
+decade later, the first architectural manifestations of Romantic
+Classicism did not occur on Italian soil.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two buildings begun in the late 1750s, one a very large church in
+France completed only in 1790, the other a mere garden pavilion in
+England, may be considered to announce the architectural revolution:
+Sainte-Geneviève in Paris, desecrated and made a secular Panthéon in
+1791 immediately after its completion, was designed by J.-G. Soufflot
+(1713-80);<a id="r4"></a><a href='#f4' class='c025'><sup>[4]</sup></a> the Doric Temple at Hagley Park in Worcestershire is by
+his exact contemporary James Stuart (1713-88). The Panthéon remains
+one of the most conspicuous eighteenth-century monuments of Paris; the
+Hagley temple is familiar today only to specialists. Yet,
+historically, Stuart’s importance is rather greater than Soufflot’s,
+even though his production was almost negligible in quantity. Born and
+partly trained in Lyons, Soufflot studied early in Rome and returned
+to Italy again in the middle of the century. Like several of the
+French theorists of the day, he had had a lively interest in Gothic
+construction from his Lyons days. He owed his selection to design
+Sainte-Geneviève in 1755 to his friendship with Louis XV’s Directeur
+Général des Bâtiments, the Marquis de Marigny, brother of Mme de
+Pompadour, whom he had accompanied to Italy in 1749 along with the
+influential critics C.-N. Cochin and the Abbé Leblanc.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Scottish architect James Stuart had also gone to Rome, and formed
+there as early as 1748 the project of visiting Athens; by 1751 he was
+on his way, accompanied by Nicholas Revett (<i>c.</i> 1721-1804), with
+whom he proposed to produce an archaeological work on the
+<i>Antiquities of Athens</i>. The publication of the first volume of
+this epoch-making book was delayed until 1762. In the meantime, in
+1758, the year Stuart designed his Hagley temple, J.-D. Leroy
+(1724-1803) got ahead of him by publishing <i>Les Ruines des plus
+beaux monuments de la Grèce</i>; but the very pictorial and inaccurate
+plates in this had little practical effect on architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The significance of Stuart’s temple may be readily guessed; small
+though it is, this fabrick was the first example of the re-use of the
+Greek Doric order<a id="r5"></a><a href='#f5' class='c025'><sup>[5]</sup></a>—so barbarous, or at least so primitive, in
+appearance to mid-eighteenth-century eyes—and the first edifice to
+attempt an archaeological reconstruction of a Greek temple. By the
+fifties many architects and critics were ready to accept the primacy
+of Greek over Roman art, if not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiii'>xxiii</span>little or no knowledge of Greek architecture several French writers
+before Laugier had praised it. J. J. Winckelmann also recommended
+Greek rather than Roman models in his <i>Gedanken über die Nachahmung
+der Griechischen Werke</i> (Dresden, 1755) published just before he
+settled in Rome.<a id="r6"></a><a href='#f6' class='c025'><sup>[6]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Out of Italian chauvinism Piranesi attacked the theory of Grecian
+primacy in the arts; yet before his death he had prepared an
+impressive and influential set of etchings of the Greek temples at
+Paestum which his son Francesco published. In 1760, moreover, Piranesi
+decorated the Caffè Inglese in Rome in an Egyptian mode. Eventually
+Greek precedent in detail all but superseded Roman for over a
+generation; yet a real Greek Revival, at best but one aspect of
+Romantic Classicism, did not mature until after 1800. There was never
+a widespread Egyptian Revival,<a id="r7"></a><a href='#f7' class='c025'><sup>[7]</sup></a> but Egyptian inspiration did play a
+real part in crystallizing the formal ideals of Romantic Classicism;
+it also provided certain characteristic architectural forms, such as
+the pyramid and the obelisk, and occasional decorative details.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Soufflot’s vast cruciform Panthéon provides no such simple paradigm as
+Stuart’s temple. No longer really Baroque, it is by no means
+thoroughly Romantic Classical. Like most of the work of the leading
+British architect of Soufflot’s generation, Robert Adam (1728-92),<a id="r8"></a><a href='#f8' class='c025'><sup>[8]</sup></a>
+the Panthéon must rather be considered stylistically transitional. For
+example, the purity of the temple portico at the front, in any case
+Roman not Grecian, is diminished by the breaks at its corners. The
+tall, hemispherical dome<a id="r9"></a><a href='#f9' class='c025'><sup>[9]</sup></a> over the crossing is even less antique in
+character, owing its form to Wren’s St Paul’s rather than to the Roman
+Pantheon, which was the favourite domical model for later Romantic
+Classicists. In the interior, up to the entablatures, the columniation
+is Classical enough and the structure entirely trabeated<a id="r10"></a><a href='#f10' class='c025'><sup>[10]</sup></a>—at least
+in appearance (Plate <a href='#pl001'>1</a>). Above, the domes in the four arms are
+perhaps Roman, but hardly the pendentives that carry them; these are,
+of course, a Byzantine structural device revived in the fifteenth
+century by Brunelleschi. Over the aisles the cutting away of the
+masonry and the general statical approach, while not producing
+anything that <i>looks</i> very Gothic, illustrate the results of
+Soufflot’s long-pursued study of Gothic vaulting. Many aspects of
+nineteenth-century architectural development were thus presaged by
+Soufflot here, as will become very evident later
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch01'>1</a>-<a href='#ch03'>3</a>, <a href='#ch06'>6</a>, and <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).<a id="r11"></a><a href='#f11' class='c025'><sup>[11]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Panthéon was finally finished in the decade after Soufflot’s death
+by his own pupil Maximilien Brébion (1716-<i>c.</i> 1792), J.-B.
+Rondelet (1743-1829), a pupil of J.-F. Blondel, and Soufflot’s nephew
+(François, ?-<i>c.</i> 1802). Well before that, a whole generation of
+French architects had developed a mode, similar to Adam’s in England,
+which is usually called, despite its initiation long before Louis XV’s
+death in 1774, the <i>style Louis XVI</i>. Whether or not this mode in
+its inception owed much to English inspiration is still controversial.
+In any case it was widely influential outside France from the
+seventies to the nineties, and in those decades both French-born and
+French-trained designers were in great demand all over Europe, except
+in England; and even in England French craftsmen were employed. With
+that completely eighteenth-century phase of architectural history this
+book cannot deal, even though most of the architects who
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxiv'>xxiv</span>after 1800 had first made their reputation under Louis XVI, or even
+earlier under Louis XV. The <i>style Louis XVI</i> and the English
+‘Adam Style’ were over, except in remote provinces and colonial
+dependencies, by 1800.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In various executed works of the decades preceding the French
+Revolution it is possible to trace the gradual emergence of mature
+Romantic Classicism in France, as also to some extent in the executed
+buildings and, above all, the projects of the younger George Dance
+(1741-1825)<a id="r12"></a><a href='#f12' class='c025'><sup>[12]</sup></a> in England. But it is in the extraordinary designs,
+dating from the eighties, by two French architects a good deal younger
+than Soufflot that the new ideals were most boldly and completely
+visualized. In the last twenty-five years these two men, L.-E. Boullée
+(1728-99) and C.-N. Ledoux (1736-1806), have increasingly been
+recognized as the first great masters of Romantic Classical
+<i>design</i> if not, in the fullest sense, the first great Romantic
+Classical <i>architects</i>. Boullée built little and few of his
+projects and none of the manuscript of his book on architecture, both
+now preserved at the Bibliothèque Nationale, were published—or at
+least not until modern times.<a id="r13"></a><a href='#f13' class='c025'><sup>[13]</sup></a> Yet they must have been well known to
+his many pupils—including J.-N.-L. Durand, who was the author of the
+most influential architectural treatise of the Empire period, and
+doubtless to others as well (see Chapters <a href='#ch02'>2</a> and <a href='#ch03'>3</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ledoux was from the first a very successful architect, working with
+assurance and considerable versatility in the <i>style Louis XVI</i>
+from the late sixties, particularly for Mme du Barry. He became an
+academician and <i>architecte du roi</i> in 1773 and spent the next
+few years at Cassel in Germany. His major executed works are in
+France, however, and belong to the late seventies and eighties. These
+are the Besançon Theatre of 1775-84, the buildings of the Royal
+Saltworks at Arc-et-Senans near there of 1775-9—he had been made
+<i>inspecteur</i> of the establishment in 1771—and the
+<i>barrières</i> or toll-houses of Paris, which were built in 1784-9
+just before the Revolution. In this later work most of the major
+qualities of his personal style, qualities carried to much greater
+extremes in his projects, are readily recognizable; his earlier work
+was of rather transitional character and not at all unlike what many
+other French architects of his generation were producing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The massive cube of the exterior of Ledoux’s Besançon Theatre, against
+which an unpedimented Ionic portico is set, can already be found,
+however, at his Château de Benouville begun in 1768; the later edifice
+is nevertheless much more rigidly cubical and much plainer in the
+treatment of the rare openings. In the interior Ledoux substituted for
+a Baroque horseshoe with tiers of boxes a hemicycle<a id="r14"></a><a href='#f14' class='c025'><sup>[14]</sup></a> with rising
+banks of seats and a continuous Greek Doric colonnade around the rear
+fronting the gallery. The extant constructions at Arc-et-Senans are
+less geometrical; instead of Greek orders there is much rustication
+and also various Piranesian touches of visual drama. It was this
+commission which set Ledoux to designing his ‘Ville Idéale de Chaux’;
+that was his greatest achievement, even though it never came even to
+partial execution, nor could perhaps have been expected to do so, so
+cosmic was the basic concept.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The <i>barrières</i> varied very widely in character; some were very
+Classical, others in a modest Italianate vernacular; some were rather
+Piranesian in their bold rustication,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxv'>xxv</span>the Besançon Theatre. The most significant, however, were notable for
+the crisp and rigid geometry of their flat-surfaced masses. The extant
+Barrière de St Martin in the Place de Stalingrad in the La Villette
+district of Paris consists of a tall cylinder rising out of a very
+low, square block; this is intersected by a cruciform element
+projecting as three pedimented porticoes beyond the edges of the
+square (Plate <a href='#pl002a'>2<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Although the range of Ledoux’s
+restricted detail here is not very great, it is varied to the point of
+inconsistency all the same. The rather heavy piers of the porticoes
+are square, with capitals simplified from the Grecian Doric; yet
+around the cylinder extends an open arcade of Italian character
+carried on delicate coupled columns.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Had Ledoux’s ideas been known only from his executed work, he would
+probably not have been especially influential; certainly he would not
+have attained with posterity the very high reputation that is his
+today. Inactive at building after the Revolution—he was even
+imprisoned for a while in the nineties—he concentrated on the
+publication of his designs both executed and projected. His book
+<i>L’Architecture considérée sous le rapport de l’art, des mœurs et de
+la législation</i> appeared in 1804, and a second edition was
+published by Daniel Ramée (1806-87) in 1846-7. This book has a long
+and fascinating text which is sociological as much as it is
+architectural; but it is in its plates, both of executed work and
+projects, that Ledoux’s originality can best be appreciated. By no
+means all of his ideas, known before the Revolution to his pupils and
+undoubtedly to many others as well, passed into the general repertory
+of Romantic Classicism; some of the most extreme are hardly buildable.
+The ‘House for Rural Guards’ is a free-standing sphere, a form that he
+utilized as space rather than mass in the interior of a project for a
+Columbarium. For the ‘Coopery’, the coopers’ products dictated the
+target-like shape (Plate <a href='#pl002b'>2<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The ‘House for the
+Directors of the Loue River’ is also a cylinder set horizontally, but
+a much more massive one, through which the whole flood of the river
+was to pour to the thorough discomfort, one would imagine, of the
+inhabitants. Even where the forms are more conventional, as in the
+project for the church of his ‘Ville Idéale’ of Chaux—a purified
+version of Soufflot’s Panthéon: cruciform, temple-porticoed, and with
+a Roman saucer dome—or for the bank there—a peristylar rectangle with
+high, plain attic, flanked at the corners by detached cubic lodges—the
+clarity and originality of his formal thinking is very evident, and
+was apparently influential well before his book actually appeared in
+1804. Masses are of simple geometrical shapes, discrete and boldly
+juxtaposed; walls are flat and as little broken as possible, the few
+necessary openings mere rectangular holes. Minor features are repeated
+without variation of rhythm in regular reiterative patterns; the top
+surfaces of the masses, whether flat, sloping, or rounded, are
+considered as bounding planes, not modelled plastically in the Baroque
+way.<a id="r15"></a><a href='#f15' class='c025'><sup>[15]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Much of this is common to the projects of Boullée, more widely known
+than Ledoux’s in the eighties because of his many pupils. The simple
+geometrical forms, the plain surfaces, the reiterative handling of
+minor features, all are even more conspicuous in his designs and
+generally presented at a scale so grand as to approach megalomania
+(Plate <a href='#pl002c'>2<span class='fss'>C</span></a>). Boullée could be, and often was, more
+conventionally the Classical Revivalist than Ledoux; he was also
+perhaps somewhat less bold in using such shapes as the sphere
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxvi'>xxvi</span>cube and the pyramid. His inspiration was on occasion medieval (of a
+very special South European ‘Castellated’ order), and he thereby laid
+the foundations for that more widely eclectic use of the forms of the
+past which makes the Romantic Classical a syncretic style, not a mere
+revival of Roman or Greek architecture. Various projects of the
+eighties by younger men, such as Bernard Poyet (1742-1824) and L.-J.
+Desprez (1743-1804), of whom we will hear again later, were of very
+similar character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both Boullée and Ledoux, but particularly Ledoux, were interested in
+symbolism. In that sense their architecture was not essentially
+abstract, despite the extreme geometrical simplicity of their forms,
+but in their own term <i>parlante</i> or expressive and meaningful. So
+special and personal is most of their symbolism, however, that even
+when quite obvious, as with the ‘Coopery’, it was hardly viable for
+other architects. When Ledoux gave to his <i>Oikema</i> or ‘House of
+Sexual Education’ an actual <i>plan</i> of phallic outline (which
+would be wholly unnoticeable except from the air) he epitomized the
+hermetic quality of much of his architectural speech. It is
+understandable that, of the many who accepted his architectural
+syntax, very few really attempted to speak his language. Such
+symbolism belonged on the whole to an early stage of Romantic
+Classicism; after 1800 architectural speech was generally of a much
+less recondite order. Yet to each of the different vocabularies
+employed by Romantic Classicists—Grecian, Egyptian, Italian,
+Castellated, etc.—some sort of special meaning was commonly attached.
+Thus a restricted and codified eclecticism provided, as it were, the
+equivalent of a system of musical keys that could be chosen according
+to a conventional code when designing different types of buildings.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One cannot properly say that international Romantic Classicism derives
+to any major degree from Ledoux and Boullée; one can only say that
+their projects of the eighties epitomized most dramatically the final
+ending of the Baroque and the crystallization of the style that
+succeeded it. Many French architects of the generation of Poyet and
+Desprez, however, such as J.-J. Ramée, Pompon, A.-L.-T. Vaudoyer,
+L.-P. Baltard, Belanger, Grandjean de Montigny, Damesme, and Durand
+(to mention only those whose names will recur later) came close to
+rivalling even the grandest visions of Ledoux and Boullée in projects
+prepared in the nineties.<a id="r16"></a><a href='#f16' class='c025'><sup>[16]</sup></a> After such exalted work on paper, the
+buildings actually executed by this generation of Romantic Classicists
+often seem rather tame. So also were the glorious social schemes of
+the political revolutionaries much diluted by the functioning
+governments of Consulate and Empire before and after 1800.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Only in England did the decades preceding the French Revolution
+produce any development in architecture at all comparable in
+significance to what was taking place then in France. But there also
+it is the projects rather than the executed work of Dance—of which
+very little remains except his early London church of All Hallows,
+London Wall, of 1765-7—that modern investigators have come to realize
+led most definitely away from the transitional ‘Adam Style’ towards
+Romantic Classicism. His Piranesian Newgate Prison, begun in 1769, was
+demolished in 1902. By 1790, both in France and in England, the new
+ideas had taken firm root, however, and other countries were not slow
+to accept the mature style once it had been fully adumbrated.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xxvii'>xxvii</span>The fact that the nineteenth century began with much of Europe under
+the hegemony of a French Empire does not quite justify calling the
+particular phase of Romantic Classicism with which the nineteenth
+century opens <i>Empire</i>, although this is frequently done in most
+European countries. Yet the prestige of Napoleon’s rule, and indeed
+its actual extent, ensured around 1800 the continuance of that French
+leadership in architecture which had started a century earlier under
+Louis XIV. Beyond the boundaries of Napoleon’s realm and the lands of
+his nominees and his allies, moreover, French émigrés carried the new
+architectural ideas of the last years of the monarchy—for many of them
+were revolutionaries in the arts, although like Ledoux politically
+unacceptable to the leaders of the Revolution in France. Even in the
+homeland of Napoleon’s principal opponents, the English, the prestige
+of French taste, high in the eighties, hardly declined with the
+Napoleonic wars. The mature Romantic Classicism of England in the last
+decade of the old century and the first of the new is certainly full
+of French ideas, even though it is not always clear exactly how they
+were transmitted across the Channel in war-time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Romantic Classicism, the nearly universal style with which
+nineteenth-century architecture began, was predominantly French in
+origin and in its continuing ideals and standards, the same decades
+that saw it reach maturity also saw the rise of another major movement
+in the arts that was definitely English. The ‘Picturesque’, a critical
+concept that had been increasing in authority for two generations in
+England, received the dignity of a capital P in the 1790s. The term
+Romantic Classicism is a twentieth-century historian’s invention,
+attempting by its own contradictoriness to express the ambiguity of
+the dominant mode of this period in the arts; the term Picturesque, on
+the other hand, was most widely used and the concept most thoroughly
+examined just before and just after 1800
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch01'>1</a> and <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To the twentieth century, on the whole, the aesthetic standards of
+Romantic Classicism—or perhaps one should rather say the visual
+results—have been widely acceptable. The results of the application of
+Picturesque principles in architecture, on the other hand, have not
+been so generally admired; indeed, until lately the more clearly and
+unmistakably buildings realized Picturesque ideals, the less was
+usually the esteem in which they were held by posterity. On the whole,
+in architecture if not in landscape design, the twentieth century has
+preferred to see the manifestations of the Picturesque around 1800 as
+aberrations from a norm considered primarily to have been a ‘Classical
+Revival’. As the adjectival aspect of the term Romantic Classicism
+makes evident, however, the Classicism of the end of the eighteenth
+century and the beginning of the nineteenth was not at all the same as
+that of the High Renaissance, nor even that of the Academic Reaction
+of the early and middle decades of the eighteenth century. Romantic
+Classicism aimed not so much towards the ‘Beautiful’, in the sense of
+Aristotle and the eighteenth-century aestheticians, as towards what
+had been distinguished by Edmund Burke in 1756 as the ‘Sublime’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Posterity has admired in the production of the first decades of the
+nineteenth century a homogeneity of style which is in fact even more
+illusory than that of earlier periods. Horrified by the chaos of later
+nineteenth-century eclecticism, two twentieth-century
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxviii'>xxviii</span>have praised architects and patrons of the years before and after 1800
+for a consistency that was by no means really theirs. In some ways,
+and not unimportant ways, the history of architecture within the
+period covered by this volume seems to come full circle so that the
+Austrian art historian Emil Kaufmann could in 1933 write a book
+entitled <i>Von Ledoux bis Le Corbusier</i>. Kaufmann did not live
+quite long enough to realize how far from the spheres and cubes of the
+Ledolcian ideal the revolutionary twentieth-century architect would
+move in these last years (see Chapter <a href='#ch23'>23</a>). Le Corbusier’s
+church at Ronchamp, completed in 1955 after Kaufmann’s death, seems
+more in accord with extreme eighteenth-century illustrations of the
+Picturesque than with characteristic monuments of Romantic Classicism
+(Plate <a href='#pl167'>167</a>). Yet in the early works of the American Frank
+Lloyd Wright in the 1890s and those of the German Mies van der Rohe
+twenty years later a filiation to early nineteenth-century Classicism
+can be readily traced; that tradition informed almost the entire
+production of the French Perret, a good deal of that of the German
+Behrens, and even some of the best late work of the Austrian Wagner
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch18'>18</a>-<a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Forgetting for the moment the Picturesque, one may profitably set down
+here some of the characteristics that the aspirations and the
+achievements of the architects of 1800 share, or seem to share, with
+those of the architects of over a century later. The preference for
+simple geometrical forms and for smooth, plain surfaces is common to
+both, though the earlier men aimed at effects of unbroken mass and the
+later ones rather at an expression of hollow volume. The protestations
+of devotion to the ‘functional’ are similar, if as frequently
+sophistical in the one case as in the other. The preferred isolation
+of buildings in space is as evident in the ubiquitous temples of the
+early nineteenth century as in the towering slabs of the mid
+twentieth. Monochromy and even monotony in the use of homogeneous
+wall-surfacing materials and the avoidance of detail in relief is
+balanced in both periods by an emphasis on direct structural
+expression, whether the structure be the posts and lintels of a
+masonry colonnade or the steel or ferro-concrete members of a
+continuous space-cage. Finally, impersonality and, perhaps even more
+notably, ‘internationality’ of expression provided around 1800 a
+universalized sense of period rather than the flavours of particular
+nations or regions, just as they have done in the last forty years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The full flood of Romantic Classicism came late, having been dammed so
+long by the political and economic turmoil of the last years of the
+eighteenth century and the first of the nineteenth; it also continued
+late, in some areas even beyond 1850. But dissatisfaction and revolt
+also started early; it is not a unique stylistic paradox that the
+greatest masters of Romantic Classicism were often those who were also
+most ready to explore the alternative possibilities of the Picturesque
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). The architectural production of the first half
+of the nineteenth century cannot therefore be presented with any
+clarity in a single chronological sequence. Parallel architectural
+events, even strictly contemporary works by the same architect, must
+be set in their proper places in at least two different sequences of
+development.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The building production of the early decades of the century already
+divides only too easily under various stylistic headings. A Greek
+Revival, a Gothic Revival, etc., have
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_xxix'>xxix</span>fact, these and other ‘revivals’ were but aspects either of the
+dominant Romantic Classical tide or of the Picturesque countercurrent
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch01'>1</a>-<a href='#ch05'>5</a> and Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>, respectively).
+Only the story of the increasing exploitation of new materials,
+notably iron and glass, reaching some sort of a culmination around
+1850, lay outside, though never quite isolated from, the realm of the
+revivalistic modes (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+    <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span><span class='c026'>PART ONE</span></div>
+    <div class='c000'><span class='c026'>1800-1850</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <h2 id='ch01' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 1</span><br />ROMANTIC CLASSICISM AROUND 1800</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Despite</span> the drastically reduced production of the years just before and after 1800,
+between the outbreak of the French Revolution and the termination of Napoleon’s
+imperial career, there are prominent buildings in many countries that provide fine
+examples of Romantic Classicism in its early maturity; others, generally more modest in
+size, give evidence of the vitality of the Picturesque at this time. Since England and
+America were least directly affected by the French Revolution, however much they
+were drawn into the wars that were its aftermath, they produced more than their share,
+so to say, of executed work. French architects before 1806 were mostly reduced to designing
+monuments destined never to be built or to adapting old structures to new
+uses.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The greatest architect in active practice in the 1790s was Sir John Soane (1753-1837),
+from 1788 Architect of the Bank of England. The career of his master, the younger
+Dance, was in decline; he had made what were perhaps his greatest contributions a good
+quarter of a century earlier. Whatever Soane owed to Dance, and he evidently owed
+him a great deal, the Bank<a id="r17"></a><a href='#f17' class='c025'><sup>[17]</sup></a> offered greater opportunities than the older man had ever
+had. His interiors of the early nineties at the Bank leave the world of academic Classicism
+completely behind (Plate <a href='#pl003'>3</a>). His extant Lothbury façade of 1795, with the contiguous
+‘Tivoli Corner’ of a decade later—now modified almost beyond recognition—and
+even more the demolished Waiting Room Court (Plate <a href='#pl004a'>4<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) showed that his innovations
+in this period were by no means restricted to interiors.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Soane’s style, consonant though it was in many ways with the general ideals of
+Romantic Classicism, is a highly personal one. At the Bank, however, he was not creating
+<i>de novo</i> but committed to the piecemeal reconstruction of an existing complex of
+buildings, and controlled as well by very stringent technical requirements. Thus the
+grouping of the offices about the Rotunda, like the plan of the Rotunda itself, goes back
+to the work done by his predecessor Sir Robert Taylor (1714-88) twenty years earlier;
+while the special need of the Bank for various kinds of security made necessary both the
+avoidance of openings on the exterior and a fireproof structural system within. The
+architectural expression that Soane gave to his complex spaces in the offices which he
+designed in 1791 and built in 1792-4 had very much the same abstract qualities as those
+to which older masters of Romantic Classicism, such as Ledoux and Dance, had already
+aspired in the preceding decades (Plate <a href='#pl003'>3</a>). The novel treatment of the smooth plaster
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>surfaces of the light vaults made of hollow terracotta pots, where he substituted linear
+striations for the conventional membering of Classical design, was as notable as the
+frank revelation of the delicate cast-iron framework of his glazed lanterns
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). These interiors have particularly appealed to
+twentieth-century taste, while Soane’s columnar confections of this
+period generally appear somewhat pompous and banal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Rotunda of 1794-5 was grander and more Piranesian in effect; thus it shared in
+the international tendency of this period towards megalomania. So also the contemporary
+Lothbury façade, with its rare accents of crisply profiled antae and its vast unbroken
+expanses of flat rustication, is less personal to Soane and more in a mode that was
+common to many Romantic Classical architects all over the Western world. The
+original Tivoli Corner of 1805, however, was almost Baroque in its plasticity, with a
+Roman not a Greek order, and a most remarkable piling up of flat elements organized
+in three dimensions at the skyline that could only be Soane’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the other hand, the reduction of relief and the linear stylization of the constituent
+elements of the Loggia in the Waiting Room Court of 1804, equally personal to Soane,
+illustrated an anti-Baroque tendency to reduce to a minimum the sculptural aspect of
+architecture (Plate <a href='#pl004a'>4<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Planes were emphasized rather than masses, and the character of
+the detail was thoroughly renewed as well as the basic formulas of Classical design that
+Soane had inherited. This was even more apparent in the New Bank Buildings, a terrace
+of houses, begun in 1807, that once stood across Prince’s Street. Except for the paired
+Ionic columns at the ends, conventional Classical forms were avoided almost as completely
+as in the Bank offices of the previous decade, and the smooth plane of the stucco
+wall was broken only by incised linear detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perhaps the most masterly example of this characteristically Soanic treatment is still
+to be seen in the gateway and lodge of the country house that he built at Tyringham
+in Buckinghamshire in 1792-7 (Plate <a href='#pl006a'>6<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). There the simple mass is defined by flat surfaces
+bounded by plain incised lines. The house itself is both less drastically novel and less
+successful; various other Soane houses of these decades have more character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Summerson has claimed that Soane introduced all his important innovations before
+1800. However that may be, there is no major break in his work at the end of the first
+decade of the century, nor did his production then notably increase. It is therefore rather
+arbitrary to cut off an account of his architecture at this point; but it is necessary to do
+so if the importance of the Picturesque countercurrent in these same years, not as yet of
+great consequence as an aspect of Soane’s major works, is to be adequately emphasized.
+His concern with varied lighting effects, however, if not necessarily Picturesque technically,
+gave evidence of an intense Romanticism; more indubitably Picturesque was his
+exaggerated interest in broken skylines.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>While Soane’s work at the Bank was proceeding, in these years before and after 1800,
+James Wyatt (1746-1813), capable of producing at Dodington House in 1798-1808 a
+quite conventional example of Romantic Classicism, was building in the years between
+1796 and his death in 1813 for that great Romantic William Beckford the largest of
+‘Gothick’ garden fabricks, Fonthill Abbey in Wiltshire.<a id="r18"></a><a href='#f18' class='c025'><sup>[18]</sup></a> This was a landmark in the
+rise of the Gothic Revival. In 1803 S. P. Cockerell (1754-1827), otherwise far more consistently
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>Classical than Wyatt, was erecting for his brother, the Indian nabob Sir Charles
+Cockerell, a vast mansion in Gloucestershire in an Indian mode. The design of Sezincote
+was based on early sketches made by the landscape gardener Humphry Repton (1752-1818)
+and all its details were derived from the drawings Thomas Daniell (1749-1840)
+had made in India fifteen years before and published in <i>The Antiquities of India</i> in 1800.
+The ‘Indian Revival’ (so to call it) had little success; in these years only the stables built
+in 1805 by William Porden (<i>c.</i> 1755-1822) for the Royal Pavilion at Brighton followed
+Sezincote’s lead.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Neo-Gothic of Fonthill, however, a mode that had roots extending back into the
+second quarter of the eighteenth century, is illustrated in a profusion of examples by
+Wyatt, Porden, and many others. None, however, seems to have succeeded as well as
+Beckford and Wyatt at Fonthill in achieving the ‘Sublime’ by mere dimension. The
+characteristic Gothic country houses of this period were likely to be elaborately Tudor,
+like Wyatt’s Ashridge begun in 1808 and Porden’s Eaton Hall of 1803-12, or lumpily
+Castellated like Hawarden of 1804-9 by Thomas Cundy I (1765-1825) and Eastnor of
+1808-15 by Sir Robert Smirke (1781-1867). The last, moreover, differs very little from
+Adam’s Culzean of 1777-90.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Some Gothic churches were built in these decades, too, as others had been ever since
+the 1750s. Such an example as Porden’s church at Eccleston of 1809-13, while more
+recognizably Perpendicular, lacked the brittle charm of the earlier ‘Gothick’ churches
+of the eighteenth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The virtuoso of the Picturesque mode and, after Soane, the greatest architectural
+figure of these years in England, was John Nash (1752-1835). Working in partnership
+with Repton for several years at the turn of the century, he turned out a spate of Picturesque
+houses, many of them rather small, with various sorts of medieval detail: Killy
+Moon in Ireland, built in 1803, is Norman; more usually they are Tudor or at least
+Tudoresque: his own East Cowes Castle on the Isle of Wight, which was begun in 1798,
+for example, or Luscombe in Devonshire, begun the following year. The medieval detail
+was probably designed by the French émigré Augustus (Auguste) Charles Pugin
+(1762-1832), whom Nash employed at this time (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). It is rather for their
+asymmetrical silhouettes and for the free plans that this asymmetry encouraged, however,
+than for the stylistic plausibility of their detailing that these houses are notable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Finer than such ‘castles’ is Cronkhill, which Nash built in 1802 at Atcham, Salop.
+Here the varied forms are all more or less Italianate, and the whole was evidently inspired
+by the fabricks in the paintings of Claude and the Poussins—literally an example
+of ‘picturesque’ architecture. Actually more characteristic of the Picturesque at this
+time, however, is the Hamlet at Blaise Castle. There Nash repeated in 1811 a variety of
+cottage types that he had already used individually elsewhere, arranging them in an
+irregular cluster (Plate <a href='#pl050a'>50<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Rustic Cottage mode, like so many aspects of the Picturesque in architecture, had
+its origins in the fabricks designed to ornament eighteenth-century gardens. But the
+mode had by now attained considerable prestige thanks to the writings of the chief
+theorists of the Picturesque,<a id="r19"></a><a href='#f19' class='c025'><sup>[19]</sup></a> Richard Payne Knight (1750-1824) and Uvedale Price
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>(1747-1829). Their support was responsible also for the rising prestige of the asymmetrical
+Castellated Mansion and the Italian Villa; indeed, Payne Knight’s own Downton
+Castle in Shropshire of 1774-8 is both Castellated and Italianate. The appearance of
+several prettily illustrated books on cottages<a id="r20"></a><a href='#f20' class='c025'><sup>[20]</sup></a> in the nineties provided a variety of
+models for emulation, and from the beginning of the new century the Cottage mode
+was well established for gate lodges, dairies, and all sorts of other minor constructions
+in the country.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For larger buildings a definite Greek Revival was now beginning to take form within
+the general frame of Romantic Classicism. More young architects were visiting Greece
+and, for those who could not, two further volumes of Stuart and Revett’s <i>Antiquities of
+Athens</i>, appearing in 1787 and in 1794, and the parallel <i>Ionian Antiquities</i>, which began
+to be issued in 1769, provided many more models for imitation than had been available
+earlier. The Greek Doric order had first been introduced into England by Stuart himself
+in 1758 in the Hagley Park temple, as has been mentioned earlier; a little later, in 1763,
+he used the Greek Ionic on Litchfield House which still stands at 15 St James’s Square
+in London. From the nineties, the Greek orders were in fairly common use, as such a
+splendid group as the buildings of Chester Castle, of 1793-1820 by Thomas Harrison
+(1744-1829), handsomely illustrates. However, the handling of them was not as yet very
+archaeological.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Summerson credits the attack made by the connoisseur Thomas Hope (1770?-1831)
+in 1804 on Wyatt’s designs for Downing College, Cambridge, with helping to establish
+a more rigid standard of correctness. However that may be, the winning and partly
+executed design of 1806-11 for this college by William Wilkins (1778-1839) well illustrates
+the new ideals. Wilkins had made his own studies of Greek originals in Sicily and
+Southern Italy, and was publishing them in the <i>Antiquities of Magna Graecia</i> at this very
+time (1807). The inherited concepts of medieval college architecture, largely maintained
+through the earlier Georgian period, were all but forgotten at Downing. The
+group was broken down into free-standing blocks, each as much like a temple as was
+feasible, and repeated Ionic porticoes provided almost the only architectural features.
+There was no Soanic originality here, no Picturesque eclecticism; perhaps unfortunately,
+however, this provided a codified Grecian mode which almost anyone could apply from
+handbooks of the Greek orders.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wilkins was also responsible for the first<a id="r21"></a><a href='#f21' class='c025'><sup>[21]</sup></a> British example of a giant columnar monument,
+the Nelson Pillar of 1808-9 in Dublin. This 134-foot Greek Doric column in
+Sackville (now O’Connell) Street, of which the construction was supervised by Francis
+Johnston (1760-1829), initiated a favourite theme of the period usually, and not incorrectly,
+associated with Napoleon (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Covent Garden Theatre in London was rebuilt in 1808-9 by Smirke. This pupil
+of Soane had, like Wilkins, seen ancient Greek buildings with his own eyes and generally
+aimed to imitate them very closely. His theatre was somewhat less correct than the Cambridge
+college, but despite the castles he had built it was Smirke rather than Wilkins
+who carried forward the Grecian mode at its most rigid through four more decades (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch04'>4</a>). Wilkins, however, at Grange Park in Hampshire in 1809 had shown, as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>C.-E. de Beaumont (1757-1811) had done at a country house called ‘Le Temple de
+Silence’ just before the Revolution in France, how the accommodations of a fair-sized
+mansion could be squeezed inside the temple form (admittedly with some violence to
+the latter). Grange Park provided an early paradigm of a Grecian domestic mode
+destined to be curiously popular at the fringes of the western world in America, in
+Sweden, and in Russia, but very rarely employed in more sophisticated regions (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch05'>5</a>). The house was much modified by later enlargements of 1823-5 by S. P.
+Cockerell and of 1852 by his son C. R. Cockerell (1788-1863).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Grecian design descended slowly to the world of the builders. The relatively restricted
+urban house-building of the two decades before Waterloo maintained a close resemblance
+to that of the 1780s. Russell Square in London, built up by James Burton (1761-1837)
+in the first decade of the new century, does not differ notably from Bedford
+Square of twenty years earlier—probably by Thomas Leverton (1743-1824)—except
+that the façades are smoother and plainer. But a still greater crispness of finish could be,
+and increasingly was, obtained by covering terrace houses—as for that matter most
+suburban villas also by this time—with stucco. In this respect the work of some unknown
+designer in Euston Square in London, which was built up at the same time as
+Russell Square, may be happily contrasted with Burton’s (which has in any case been
+much corrupted by the introduction around 1880 of terracotta door and window
+casings).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In industrial construction, such as the warehouses by William Jessop at the West
+India Docks, begun in 1799, and those by D. A. Alexander (1768-1846) at the London
+Docks, begun in 1802, the grandeur and simplicity characteristic of Romantic Classicism
+can be seen at their best.<a id="r22"></a><a href='#f22' class='c025'><sup>[22]</sup></a> These warehouses also presage the importance of commercial
+building in a world increasingly concerned with business (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>During the years of the American Revolutionary War, 1776-83, years in which
+Romantic Classicism was maturing in France and in England, North Americans were
+not entirely cut off from the Old World. Not only did many earlier cultural ties remain
+unbroken—while a surprising reverse emigration of good painters from the New
+World to the Old occurred—but new cultural ties with the French ally were established,
+and these were maintained and reinforced by several émigrés of ability who
+arrived in the 1790s. Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826), hitherto as confirmed a Palladian as
+any English landowner of the mid eighteenth century, was undoubtedly influenced by
+his friend Clérisseau when he based his Virginia State Capitol<a id="r23"></a><a href='#f23' class='c025'><sup>[23]</sup></a> of 1785-96 at Richmond
+very closely on the best preserved ancient Roman structure that he had seen in France,
+the Maison Carrée at Nîmes, even though he used for the portico an Ionic instead of a
+Corinthian order. In this first major public monument initiated in the new republic
+Jefferson’s drastic aim of forcing all the requirements of a fairly complex modern
+building inside the rigid mould of a Roman temple was more consonant with the
+absolutism of the French in this period than with the rather looser formal ideals of the
+English.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Jefferson was not able to impose so rigid a Classicism on the new Federal capital
+of Washington at its start, despite the efforts of various French and British engineers,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>architects, and amateurs who participated in the competitions of 1792 for the President’s
+House (White House) and for the Capitol and who worked on the latter during its first
+decade of construction. The White House<a id="r24"></a><a href='#f24' class='c025'><sup>[24]</sup></a> as designed by the Irish architect James
+Hoban (<i>c.</i> 1762-1831) was still quite in the earlier eighteenth-century Anglo-Palladian
+manner, and Jefferson’s own project was based on Palladio’s Villa Rotonda. Neither
+the English amateur William Thornton (1759-1828) and his professional assistant who
+was also English, George Hadfield (<i>c.</i> 1764-1826), nor their French associate É.-S.
+Hallet succeeded in giving the Capitol<a id="r25"></a><a href='#f25' class='c025'><sup>[25]</sup></a> a very up-to-date character (Plate <a href='#pl082a'>82<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Yet it
+is these major edifices that still occupy two of the focal points in the Washington city
+plan,<a id="r26"></a><a href='#f26' class='c025'><sup>[26]</sup></a> which was prepared by the French engineer P.-C. L’Enfant (1754-1825) before
+his dismissal from public service in 1792.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was Benjamin H. Latrobe (1764-1820), an English-born architect of German and
+English training, who finally brought to America just before 1800, and shortly to
+Washington, the highest professional standards of the day and a complete Romantic
+Classical programme. Indeed, he almost succeeded in making Romantic Classicism the
+official style in the United States for all time; at least it remained so down to the
+Civil War in the sixties, and a later revival lasted, as regards public architecture in
+Washington, from the 1900s to the 1930s (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). A pupil of S. P. Cockerell,
+Latrobe emigrated in 1796 and was soon assisting Jefferson on the final completion of
+the Virginia State Capitol as well as undertaking the construction of canals as an engineer.
+Not inappropriately Latrobe’s first important American building, the Bank of
+Pennsylvania begun in 1798, was also an Ionic temple, but with an order that aspired to
+be Greek. This Philadelphia bank included a great central hall whose saucer dome, visible
+externally, made it a more complex and architectonic composition than the Richmond
+Capitol. The flat lantern crowning the dome recalled, and may derive from, those over
+Soane’s offices at the Bank of England. Characteristically, Latrobe at this very same time
+was also building a country house, Sedgley, outside Philadelphia, with ‘Gothick’ detailing.
+By 1803 he had taken charge of the construction of the Capitol, nominally under
+Thornton, with whom he had continual rows. Most of the early interiors there were his,
+notably those in the south wing, fine examples of Romantic Classicism with French as
+well as English overtones; moreover he was still in charge of rebuilding them after the
+burning of the Capitol in 1814 down to his forced resignation in 1817.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1805 Latrobe submitted alternative designs for the Catholic cathedral in Baltimore.
+The Gothic design is one of the finest projects of the ‘Sublime’ or ‘High Romantic’
+stage of the Gothic Revival; yet in its vast bare walls, carefully ordered geometry, and
+dry detail it is also consonant with some of the basic ideals of Romantic Classicism. The
+Classical design that was preferred and eventually built is perhaps less original; but
+internally, at least, this is one of the finest ecclesiastical monuments of Romantic Classicism,
+combining a rather Panthéon-like plan with segmental vaults of somewhat Soanic
+character (Plate <a href='#pl005'>5</a>). The cathedral was largely completed by 1818. The portico, though
+intended from the first, was added only in 1863, but the present bulbous terminations of
+the western towers are not of Latrobe’s design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Near by in Baltimore the Unitarian Church of 1807 is by a Frenchman, Maximilien
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>Godefroy (<i>c.</i> 1760-1833),<a id="r27"></a><a href='#f27' class='c025'><sup>[27]</sup></a> who was also responsible for the first Neo-Gothic ecclesiastical
+structure of any consequence in North America, the chapel of St Mary’s
+Seminary there, also of 1807. The Unitarian Church is a monument which might well
+have risen in the Paris of the 1790s had the French Deists been addicted to building
+churches. The triple arch in the plain stuccoed front below the pediment comes straight
+from Ledoux’s <i>barrières</i>; the interior, unhappily remodelled in 1916, was originally a
+dome on pendentives of the purest geometrical order. So also Godefroy’s Battle Monument
+of 1814 also in Baltimore, with its Egyptian base, might easily have been erected
+in Paris to honour some general prominent in Napoleon’s campaign on the Nile.<a id="r28"></a><a href='#f28' class='c025'><sup>[28]</sup></a>
+Another Frenchman, J.-J. Ramée (1764-1842), active since the Revolution in Hamburg
+and in Denmark, also came briefly to America. In 1813 he laid out Union College<a id="r29"></a><a href='#f29' class='c025'><sup>[29]</sup></a>
+in Schenectady, N.Y., on a rather Ledolcian plan and began its construction before he
+returned to Europe. His semicircle of buildings still crowns the hill—although two only
+are original—and Ramée here initiated a tradition of college architecture as remote from
+that of earlier American colleges, with their free-standing buildings set around a
+‘campus’, as Wilkins’s Downing at Cambridge was from earlier English colleges.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The French eventually departed leaving no line of descent; but Latrobe had a pupil,
+the first professionally trained American in the field and, like Latrobe, almost as much
+an engineer as an architect. By 1808 Robert Mills (1781-1855) was supervising for
+Latrobe the new Bank of Philadelphia, Gothic (or at least ‘Gothick’) where his earlier
+Bank of Pennsylvania had been Grecian, and also building on his own the Sansom Street
+Baptist Church, a competent but not distinguished essay in Romantic Classicism. In the
+same year another Latrobe pupil, William Strickland (1788-1854), designed for Philadelphia
+a Gothick Masonic Hall; this was built in 1809-11, and later rebuilt, but
+according to the original design, after a fire in 1819-20.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far more successful than either of these, if now overshadowed by the megalomaniac
+Classicism of the twentieth-century Philadelphia Museum of Art by Horace Trumbauer
+and others on the hill above, are the waterworks begun in 1811 on the banks of the
+Schuylkill. These are probably but not certainly by Mills rather than by the engineer
+Frederick Graff, whose name is signed to the drawings. These very utilitarian structures
+are most characteristic of the beginnings of Romantic Classicism in America, where
+Latrobe, Mills, and also Strickland were all three engineers as well as architects. Moreover,
+it is evident that engineering considerations often influenced their approach to
+architecture, just as architectural considerations gave visual distinction to much of their
+engineering. Thus they may be compared with engineers like Telford and Rennie in
+England as well as with the English architects of their day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this so-called ‘Federal’ period, when Romantic Classicism centred in the Middle
+Atlantic states thanks to Latrobe, Godefroy, Mills, and Strickland, the leading architect
+outside this area, the Bostonian Charles Bulfinch (1763-1844), was a late-comer to
+Romantic Classicism. His great public monument of the 1790s, the Massachusetts State
+House in Boston, had been designed originally as early as 1787-8, and even as executed
+in 1795-8 it derived principally from the Somerset House in London of Sir William
+Chambers (1726-96) and in one interior from Wyatt. His Boston Court House of 1810
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>first showed evidence of a change in his style, notably in its smooth ashlar walls of cold
+grey granite. That was a local material destined to lend particular distinction to the principal
+Romantic Classical buildings of Boston from this time forward (see Chapter <a href='#ch05'>5</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Frenchmen who came to America at the end of the eighteenth century or in the
+early 1800s (and shortly left again) could hardly import the French architecture of those
+decades; on the one hand, they had all been trained before the Revolution, from which
+most of them were in flight; on the other hand—and more consequently—there was
+almost no later architecture for them to reflect. Between 1789 and 1806 French building
+was at a standstill. Architects were mostly busy, if at all, with the decoration of
+various revolutionary fêtes and the accommodation of new political agencies in old
+structures.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One major example of the accommodation of an older structure to a new purpose
+deserves particular mention. In the years 1795-7 J.-P. de Gisors (1755-1828), E.-C.
+Leconte (1762-1818), and the former’s brother A.-J.-B.-G. de Gisors (1762-1835)
+built within the old Palais Bourbon the Salle des Cinq Cents, the legislative chamber of
+the First Republic. This hemicycle, at least as rebuilt along much the original lines by
+Joly in 1828-33, still serves as the Chamber of Deputies of the Fourth Republic. Such a
+chamber, so different in plan from the college-chapel arrangement of the British House
+of Commons with facing benches for Government and Opposition, is characteristically
+Romantic Classical in form, but this form has unfortunately proved to be conducive to
+an indefinite shading of multiple parties from right to left. The British model, suited to
+two-party rule only, was rarely imitated; the French one has been rather frequently,
+beginning with Latrobe’s House of Representatives in the Washington Capitol. Leaving
+aside the apparent political effect of the plan—not so notable in Washington as
+elsewhere—Gisors’s chamber seems to have been respectable if not especially distinguished.
+Covered with a segmental half dome and a barrel vault, both top-lighted, the
+smooth though rather richly decorated surfaces of the walls and the vaults made clear
+the interesting geometrical form of the interior space. The prototype was the lecture
+theatre of the École de Médecine in Paris erected in 1769-76 by Jacques Gondoin
+(1737-1818), one of the most advanced interiors of its day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was some private building in the Paris of the 1790s and early 1800s before public
+building eventually revived at Napoleon’s fiat. Typical and partly extant is the Rue
+des Colonnes, most probably by N.-A.-J. Vestier (1765-1816), although sometimes
+attributed to Poyet, who may have had some urbanistic control. This has an open arcade
+at the base carried on Greek Doric columns, here very modestly scaled, and cold flat
+walls above that are almost without any detailing whatever. This Paris street, as much as
+the arcaded ones of medieval and Renaissance Italy, may well have been the prototype
+for Napoleon’s first and greatest urbanistic project, the work of his favourite architects
+Charles Percier (1764-1838) and P.-F.-L. Fontaine (1762-1853). From his acquisition
+of La Malmaison in 1799 he kept them busy remodelling the interiors of his successive
+residences as First Consul and Emperor but rarely gave them new buildings to erect.
+This extensive planning scheme includes the Rue de Castiglione, running south out of
+the Place Vendôme, the Rue and Place des Pyramides, and the Rue de Rivoli facing the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>Tuileries Gardens. This last street was eventually extended to the east well beyond the
+Louvre by Napoleon III. The opening of the Rue de Castiglione was ordered in 1801;
+construction began the next year, and the execution of the rest went on, with long
+interruptions, for more than half a century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Percier and Fontaine’s façades are characteristic of Romantic Classicism in their coldness
+of detailing and their infinite repetition of the same formula; but their Italianism,
+thin and dry though it is, recalls the plates in <i>Maisons et palais de Rome moderne</i>, which the
+two architects had published in 1798 before their professional star had risen very high
+(Plate <a href='#pl006b'>6<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). With Nash’s Cronkhill, although in a very different and even opposed spirit,
+this scheme presages the international Renaissance Revival of the second quarter of the
+century. The very effective high curved roofs, filling out completely the ‘envelope’
+allowed by the Paris building code, were added in 1855; more conventional two-pitched
+mansards were provided originally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the Empire mode, particularly as elaborated by Percier and Fontaine in the service
+of the Emperor, was primarily a fashionable style for interiors, and found perhaps its
+most characteristic expression in furniture, usually of dark mahogany with much ornate
+decoration of a character resembling gold embroidery on uniforms. Such flat decorative
+work is also found carved on exteriors, not only in France but wherever Napoleonic
+influence penetrated. Indeed in furniture and interior design generally non-French work
+is often of the highest quality, especially when executed for such clients as Napoleon’s
+sister Caroline Murat at Naples.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet the character of French leadership in the arts had changed since the 1780s. The
+architects at the end of the <i>ancien régime</i> had been truly revolutionary in their aesthetic
+and their social ideals. Napoleon’s designers, almost like Hitler’s and Mussolini’s and
+Stalin’s in our century, were flatterers and time-servers. Emulation of their work abroad
+was chiefly a matter of following well-publicized fashion; creative French influence still
+flowed, however, from men of the older generation now so largely forgotten at home.
+Thus it was at this point that Ledoux’s projects became generally available to others,
+thanks to his book published in 1804 and dedicated to Napoleon’s Russian ally of the
+moment, Alexander I.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Extensive building activity in Paris under Napoleon’s aegis began only in 1806, but
+once it started there came a positive flood of projects in conscious emulation of Louis
+XIV’s architectural campaigns. There was also the expectation that this activity would
+absorb unemployment in the building trades. But Napoleon, like later dictators who
+have initiated vast building projects, actually bit off a great deal more than he could
+chew. He was, however, more fortunate than Mussolini and Hitler in that the regimes
+which succeeded his in the decades between the First Empire and the Second were surprisingly
+willing to carry his unfinished monuments to completion. Still later, his
+nephew Napoleon III emulated him in an even more concerted programme of urbanism
+and monumental construction carried out over nearly two decades in a very different
+style—indeed in several (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Colonne de la Grande Armée, replacing the statue of Louis XV at the centre of
+the Place Vendôme, is a properly symbolic monument of its epoch—first to be designed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>of the many giant columns that would arise all across the Western world from Baltimore
+to Petersburg within the next quarter century. Wilkins’s Nelson Pillar in Dublin,
+actually completed before the Paris example, has already been mentioned. The column
+in Paris is Trajanesque not Grecian, however, and was entirely executed with the bronze
+of captured guns. It well represents the Imperial Roman megalomania already evident
+in many projected memorials of the 1790s. Gondoin, its architect, with whom was
+associated J.-B. Lepère (1761-1844), provides a real link with the past, since his
+already-mentioned École de Médecine was one of the earliest major edifices in which
+Romantic Classical ideals were carried beyond the transitional stage of Soufflot’s
+Panthéon.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even before the Colonne Vendôme was finished in 1810, a smaller and somewhat less
+typical monument, but equally Roman and also the first of a considerable line, had been
+completed by Percier and Fontaine. The Arc du Carrousel of 1806-8—once a gate to the
+Tuileries from the Place du Carrousel, now unhappily floating in unconfined space—has
+much of the daintiness and, in the use of coloured marbles, the polychromy of its architects’
+contemporary palace interiors. Indeed, the richness of the detailing is far less characteristic
+of Empire taste in architecture than are their façades near by in the Rue de
+Rivoli (Plate <a href='#pl006b'>6<span class='fss'>B</span></a>); the Arc du Carrousel must have provided a rather fussy pedestal for
+the superb Grecian horses stolen from St Mark’s in Venice that were originally mounted
+upon it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far more satisfactorily symbolic of imperial aspiration is the enormous Arc de
+Triomphe de l’Étoile, which looks down the entire length of the Champs Élysées today
+to overwhelm its brother arch even at that great distance (Plate <a href='#pl007'>7</a>). J.-A. Raymond
+(1742-1811), a pupil of Leroy, first received the commission; but with him was associated
+J.-F.-T. Chalgrin (1739-1811), the master of the younger Gisors, who soon took
+over and imposed his own astylar design. Chalgrin, like Gondoin, was an architect
+already well established under the <i>ancien régime</i>. His major innovation had been the
+reintroduction of the basilican plan<a id="r30"></a><a href='#f30' class='c025'><sup>[30]</sup></a> at Saint-Philippe-du-Roule in Paris in the 1760s,
+henceforth one of the favourite models for Romantic Classical churches in France and
+elsewhere on the Continent. Like many of the monuments of that earlier period by
+Chalgrin’s contemporaries, his Arc de l’Étoile reverts less to Roman antiquity than to
+certain aspects of the architecture of Louis XIV. Even its megalomaniac grandeur can be
+matched, relatively at least, in the Porte St Denis in Paris built in the 1680s by François
+Blondel, and it follows almost line for line the square proportions of that masterpiece.
+The arch was slowly brought to completion after Chalgrin’s death, first by his pupil
+L. Goust from 1811 to 1813 and from 1823 to 1830; then by Goust’s assistant, J.-N.
+Huyot (1780-1840), advised by a commission that included François Debret (1777-1850),
+Fontaine, and the younger Gisors; and finally from 1832 to 1837 by G.-A. Blouet
+(1795-1853). It owes its unmistakably nineteenth-century character partly to the crisp,
+hard quality of its imposts and entablatures and partly to the great Romantic figural
+reliefs executed in 1833 by Rude, Etex, and Cortot. These take the place on the piers of
+the more conventional trophy-hung obelisks on Blondel’s seventeenth-century arch. A
+certain post-Empire quality derives from the plastic complexity of Blouet’s attic; but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>on the whole the Arc de l’Étoile, if less original and less influential than Saint-Philippe-du-Roule,
+is Chalgrin’s masterpiece and Napoleon’s finest memorial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Place de la Concorde, projected by A.-J. Gabriel (1692-1782) at the end of
+the Baroque Age, continued to lack, even after a half century and more, appropriate
+monuments to terminate the cross axis. The building of a big church at the head of the
+Rue Royale to close the vista between Gabriel’s two colonnaded ranges on the north
+side of the square had bogged down well before the Revolution; across the river the
+much earlier Palais Bourbon, set at an angle, was even more awkward than before, now
+that the roof of the Salle des Cinq Cents rose above it. Since the amelioration of this
+southern terminal required only a tall masking façade set at right angles to the axis,
+this was promptly provided. Poyet in 1806-8 used the most obvious Romantic Classical
+solution for such a problem, a high blank wall with a ten-columned temple portico at its
+centre. The result is certainly an urbanistic success, if without any particular intrinsic
+interest; the raising of the portico above a high range of steps ensured, for example, its
+visibility from the square across the bridge. The form of the pediment was slightly
+modified and the sculpture by Cortot added in 1837-41.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1761 Pierre Contant d’Ivry (1698-1777) and, after his death, G.-M. Couture
+(1732-99) had made successive projects for a church dedicated to the Magdalen at the
+head of the Rue Royale, the latter already proposing that it be surrounded by a Classical
+peristyle. This structure, which was as yet barely begun, Napoleon now decided should
+be not a church but a Temple de la Gloire—he reversed his decision in 1813 after the
+Battle of Leipzig and the loss of Spain. For such a temple he understandably preferred,
+in the competition held in 1806, neither the first nor the second premiated design,
+both of church-like character, but one by Pierre Vignon (1763-1828) that proposed the
+erection of an enormous Corinthian temple on a high Roman podium. Inside, a series
+of square bays covered with domes on pendentives supported by giant Corinthian
+columns provided a structural solution technically Byzantine but as imperially Roman in
+scale and detailing as the exterior.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Construction of the Madeleine, begun in 1807, dragged on interminably. J.-J.-M.
+Huvé (1783-1852) succeeded Vignon as architect in 1828 and, like the Arc de l’Étoile,
+the edifice was finally finished only under Louis Philippe in 1845. The interior has a
+somewhat funereal solemnity, more characteristic of the post-Napoleonic regimes than
+of the period of its initiation. The rather obvious temple form of the exterior is redeemed
+by the superb siting, the really grand scale, and the rich pedimental sculpture by Lemaire.
+Like Chalgrin’s arch, Vignon’s Madeleine has continued to provide a major monumental
+nexus in the urbanism of Paris ever since.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Also proposed in 1806 but not initiated until 1808 was the Bourse by A.-T. Brongniart
+(1739-1813), another architect who had, like Gondoin and Chalgrin, made his
+mark long before the Revolution (Plate <a href='#pl008b'>8<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Again a free-standing peripteral structure like
+the Madeleine, the Bourse has suffered somewhat from its enlargement in 1902-3 by
+J.-B.-F. Cavel (<i>c.</i> 1844-1905) and H.-T.-E. Eustache (1861-?). Nearly square originally
+and unpedimented—and also set much closer to the ground—it must always have lacked
+the monumental presence of the Madeleine. But the interior with its ranges of arcades,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>derived almost as directly from a Louis XIV monument—in this case the court of the
+Invalides by Libéral Bruant—as Chalgrin’s arch was from that of Blondel, is very characteristic
+of the sort of reiterative composition generally favoured by Romantic Classicism.
+L.-H. Lebas (1782-1867) was associated with the elderly Brongniart from the start,
+and after Brongniart’s death the building was finished in 1815 by E.-E. de Labarre
+(1764-1833). Labarre was responsible also for the Colonne de la Grande Armée at
+Boulogne; this was proposed in 1804 and begun in 1810, but, like so many Napoleonic
+monuments, not finished until Louis Philippe took up its construction again in 1833.
+It was finally completed by Marquise in 1844.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1799 a fire made it necessary to rebuild the Théâtre de l’Odéon; but the original
+design of M.-J. Peyre (1730-88) and Charles de Wailly (1729-98), dating back to 1779,
+was repeated in 1807 with little change, as was also the case in 1819 when it was rebuilt
+again after another fire. This provides excellent evidence of the continuity of Romantic
+Classical style in France before and after the Revolution (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Napoleon had in mind the erection of various less monumental and more utilitarian
+structures than the Bourse and the Odéon; some of these were started, and one or two
+even finished, before the Empire came to an end. Behind one section of the façades in
+the Rue de Rivoli an enormous and rather dull General Post Office was begun in 1810
+and eventually completed to serve as the Ministry of Finance under Charles X in 1827.
+Another ministry (Foreign Affairs) on the Quai d’Orsay was designed in 1810 by J.-C.
+Bonnard (1765-1818) and even begun in 1814; this was eventually carried to completion
+by Bonnard’s pupil Jacques Lacornée (1779-1856) in 1821-35. With its rich ordonnance
+of columns and arches, Bonnard’s façade had an almost High Renaissance air, or so it
+would appear from extant views of a structure long ago destroyed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Marché St Martin of 1811-16 by A.-M. Peyre (1770-1843), the Marché des
+Carmes of 1813 by A.-L.-T. Vaudoyer (1756-1846), and the Marché St Germain of
+1816-25 by J.-B. Blondel (1764-1825), with their clerestory lighting and open timber roofs,
+are typical of the more practical side of Romantic Classicism.<a id="r31"></a><a href='#f31' class='c025'><sup>[31]</sup></a> The simple masonry
+vocabulary of these Parisian markets, so straightforward and without Antique pretension,
+was considered to be Italian (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Napoleonic building flurry barely reached the provinces before its short course
+was over. The theatre in Dijon, begun about 1805 by Jacques Célérier (1742-1814), may
+be mentioned; but such plain square blocks with frontal porticoes could have been, and
+were, built in almost precisely the same form thirty years before—for example Ledoux’s
+theatre at Besançon of 1775-84. At Pontivy in Brittany, then called Napoléonville, the
+younger Gisors built a Préfecture in 1809 and a Palace of Justice with associated prisons
+two years later. A rather dull church, Saint-Vincent at Mâcon, repeating a model that
+had been new at Saint-Philippe-du-Roule forty years earlier, was also erected by him
+in 1810. The pair of front towers was a novelty suggested by an earlier project of
+Lebas.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is quite characteristic of this period, so ready (as the French have been ever since) to
+employ elderly architects and so content with stylistic innovations that dated from before
+the Revolution, that Mathurin Crucy (1749-1826) rebuilt in 1808-12 the theatre in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>Nantes—very like that at Dijon—in exactly the same form as it had originally been designed
+by him in 1784-8; while he also finished in 1809-12 the Bourse and Tribunal de
+Commerce there which he had begun in 1791, just after the Revolution started, with
+no change in the original design. The setting of his theatre in the Place Graslin provided
+by continuous ranges of five-storey houses is presumably contemporary; despite
+the rather high roofs, the façades are notably crisp and smooth. The rusticated arcuation
+of the lower storeys might make plausible a date in the 1780s, but the rather thin and
+geometrically detailed iron balcony railings suggest rather the first or second decade of
+the new century, when the theatre was rebuilt.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the imperial effort in France barely extended outside Paris except for the interior
+alterations that Percier and Fontaine carried out in the royal châteaux at Versailles,
+Compiègne, Saint-Cloud, and Fontainebleau—major examples of Empire decoration
+but not of architecture—the emperor and his nominees left their mark on most of the
+great cities of continental Europe. The Palazzo Serbelloni in the Corso Venezia, where
+Napoleon stayed in Milan, had been built by Simone Cantoni (1736-1818) in 1794.
+Similar to French work of the 1780s, it would probably have impressed the Emperor
+as still quite up-to-date. He ordered in 1806 the laying out in Milan of the Forum
+Bonaparte, according to the designs of Giannantonio Antolini (1754-1842), and the
+erection of a conventionally Roman triumphal arch, the work of Luigi Cagnola (1762-1832?),
+which was finally completed in 1838.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Rome the development of the Piazza del Popolo, like the Forum Bonaparte a work
+of urbanism rather than of architecture, was based by Giuseppe Valadier (1762-1859),
+an Italian despite his French name and ancestry, on a project he had made as early as
+1794. This project was modified by him under the Empire to incorporate ‘corrections’
+by the younger Gisors and L.-M. Berthault (1771?-1823). Execution of the project
+actually began only in 1813 after Pope Pius VII returned from his Napoleonic captivity;
+Valadier carried it forward to ultimate completion in 1831. Valadier’s Roman church
+work, such as his new façade for San Pantaleone of 1806, just off the present-day Corso
+Vittorio Emanuele, is mostly too dull to mention; his domestic work was somewhat
+more interesting, but with little personal or even Italian flavour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Naples Leconte, who had worked with the two Gisors on the Salle des Cinq Cents
+in Paris, remodelled the San Carlo opera house in 1809 for Murat—it was, however,
+refronted in 1810-12 and rebuilt in 1816-17 (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>). In association with Antonio
+de Simone, Leconte also decorated rooms in the Bourbon Palace at Caserta,<a id="r32"></a><a href='#f32' class='c025'><sup>[32]</sup></a> originally
+built by Vanvitelli in 1752-74, for this Napoleonic brother-in-law. But the finest Empire
+things in the area were the Sala di Marte and the Sala di Astrea there, which de
+Simone, working alone, had begun to decorate slightly earlier in 1807 for Napoleon’s
+brother Joseph Bonaparte (Plate <a href='#pl025'>25</a>). As with so many architectural projects of the brief
+period of the Empire, it was left to a returning legitimate sovereign, in this case Ferdinand
+I of the Two Sicilies, to finish the job. Unlike the greater part of Percier and Fontaine’s
+work in the French palaces, these rooms at Caserta are interior architecture, not
+just interior decoration, and fully worthy in their scale and their sumptuous materials
+of the magnificent spaces, created almost half a century earlier by Vanvitelli, which they
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>occupy. This is the more remarkable as de Simone was really a decorator not an
+architect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Napoleonic emendation of the Piazza San Marco in Venice calls for little comment.
+There Sansovino’s church of San Zimignan at the end was removed in 1807 and
+replaced with a structure by G. M. Solis (1745-1823) more consonant with the fifteenth-
+and sixteenth-century Procurazie by Buon and by Scamozzi along the sides. Solis’s
+emendation finally completed, and not unworthily, this most magnificent piece of
+urbanism in the form we now know it. La Fenice, the Venice opera-house, had been
+rebuilt by Giannantonio Selva (1751-1819) in 1786-92; of his work, however, only the
+rather dull façade remains. The exquisite Neo-Rococo interior is, rather surprisingly, of
+the second quarter of the nineteenth century, being by the brothers Tommaso and G. B.
+Meduna (1810-?), who restored the theatre after a fire in 1836.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ever since the fifteenth century Italian architects had worked much abroad, generally
+bringing with them the latest stylistic developments. Now that day was largely over;
+France, England, and very soon Germany were exporting taste as Italy had done for so
+many previous centuries. After the Second World War her position as architectural
+mentor began, at least, to revive again (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The employment of foreign architects by Russian Tsars was a well-established tradition
+by the late eighteenth century;<a id="r33"></a><a href='#f33' class='c025'><sup>[33]</sup></a> most of them had been Italians, but one, Charles
+Cameron (<i>c.</i> 1714-1812), who represents like Adam the transition from Academic to
+Romantic Classicism, was Scottish.<a id="r34"></a><a href='#f34' class='c025'><sup>[34]</sup></a> There had also been a French designer of the
+most original order working in Russia early in the eighteenth century, Nicholas Pineau
+(1684-1754); he even formed his mature style there, initiating the ‘Pittoresque’ phase
+of the Rococo well before he returned to France. Half a century later Catherine the
+Great acquired the greater part of the drawings of Clérisseau, friend and mentor of
+Adam and also of Jefferson. Catherine’s grandson, Alexander I, was so esteemed as a
+liberal ruler in what had once been the most advanced of French architectural circles that
+Ledoux, long left behind as a builder by Revolution and Empire, dedicated to him his
+book on architecture in 1804, as has already been noted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Soon after Alexander’s accession in 1801 he called on a less distinguished French
+architect, Thomas de Thomon (1754-1813), to design the Petersburg Bourse<a id="r35"></a><a href='#f35' class='c025'><sup>[35]</sup></a> for
+him; this structure, built in 1804-16, not Brongniart’s slightly later Bourse in Paris, is
+the great, indeed almost the prime, monument of Romantic Classicism around 1800
+(Plate #8A:pl008A). The blank pediment, rising from behind a colonnade, the great segmental
+lunette lighting the interior, the flanking rostral columns, the smooth stucco so crisply
+painted, all establish this as a perfect exemplar of this period, even though every idea in
+it can be found in projects, if not in executed work, by Ledoux and Boullée dating from
+before the Revolution. An even more precise prototype is provided by a project for a
+‘Bourse Maritime’ by Pompon that won a second Grand Prix de Rome in 1798; this was
+not published until 1806, after Thomon had begun his Bourse, but he was probably
+familiar with it all the same. Not only is the Bourse exemplary in itself; Petersburg—already
+a century old and with many vast Baroque palaces to its credit—rather than the
+newly founded city of Washington on the other side of the western world, offers the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>finest urban entity of this brief period and of the following decades during which
+Alexander and his brother Nicholas I continued for some thirty years major campaigns
+of construction along Romantic Classical lines.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thomon’s chief Russian rival, Nikiforovich Voronikhin (1760-1814), was French-trained,
+a pupil of de Wailly. His Kazan Cathedral at Petersburg of 1801-11 is still
+rather Baroque in its obvious reminiscences of St Peter’s in Rome. But the Academy of
+Mines, which he began ten years later, although somewhat heavy-handed in the way
+Romantic Classicism tended to be, away from the great cultural centres, is almost as
+exemplary as Thomon’s Bourse. More characteristically Russian in its incredible extension
+and the great variety of its silhouette is the Admiralty<a id="r36"></a><a href='#f36' class='c025'><sup>[36]</sup></a> of 1806-15 by Adrian
+Dimitrievich Zakharov (1761-1811). But the end façades successfully enlarged to monumental
+scale the theme of the arched entrance to the pre-revolutionary Hôtel de Salm
+in Paris by Pierre Rousseau (1751-1810). Altogether the Admiralty exceeded in quality
+as well as in scale almost everything that Napoleon commanded to be built in France,
+except perhaps the Arc de l’Étoile.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus Romantic Classicism before Waterloo had major representatives all the way
+from Latrobe and Mills in America, the one a foreigner, the other a native, to Thomon
+and his two native rivals in Russia; while the work of Leconte in Naples could once be
+matched by that done by Ramée in Hamburg and Denmark before he went to America
+and by the projects, at least, of Desprez in Sweden (see below). Other Frenchmen were
+working throughout Napoleon’s realm and outside it as well; but the most distinguished
+architect of this period hitherto unmentioned was a Dane, C. F. Hansen (1756-1845).
+The design of his Palace of Justice of 1805-15 in the Nytorv in Copenhagen, with
+its associated gaol, derives from the most advanced projects made by Frenchmen in the
+earlier years of Romantic Classicism before 1800. The gaol and the arches of its courtyard
+are more definitely Romantic than anything executed in France under Louis XVI,
+for they specifically recall the ‘Prisons’ of Piranesi, those strange architectural dreams in
+which the Baroque seems to become the Romantic before one’s very eyes. The gaol also
+resembles a prison designed for Aix by Ledoux and owes a certain medieval flavour,
+one must presume, to Hansen’s first- or second-hand knowledge of the projects of
+Boullée.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Still finer, because more homogeneous in conception if less pictorially Romantic, is
+the principal church in Copenhagen, the Vor Frue Kirke in the Nørregade, designed in
+1808-10 by Hansen and built over the years 1811-29. The severely plain tower above
+the Greek Doric portico at the front illustrates the more primitivistic and Italianate aspects
+of Romantic Classical theory—more precisely it might seem to derive from the
+tower of a project for a slaughterhouse by F.-J. Belanger (1744-1818),<a id="r37"></a><a href='#f37' class='c025'><sup>[37]</sup></a> a pupil of
+Leroy. The interior, eventually furnished with statues of Christ and the Twelve Apostles
+by one of the greatest Romantic Classical sculptors, the Danish Thorwaldsen, raises its
+ranges of Greek Doric columns to gallery level above a smooth arcuated base (Plate <a href='#pl004b'>4<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+These carry a coffered Roman barrel vault in a way that follows quite closely, although
+with some change in the proportions, Boullée’s project for the Bibliothèque Royale.
+Not the least successful and original feature of the exterior is the plain half-cylinder
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>of the half-domed apse broken only by a portal of almost Egyptian simplicity. But in
+Copenhagen, with its old tradition of building in brick, the characteristic Romantic
+Classical surfaces of smooth stucco seem alien and the curious pinky-brown that
+Hansen’s buildings are painted is certainly a little gloomy today.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Sweden the Rome-trained French architect Desprez, whose projects of the 1780s
+have been mentioned, was largely occupied not with building but with theatre settings;
+however, there is at least the excellent Botanical Institute that he built in Uppsala,
+designed in 1791 and completed in 1807, with its characteristic Greek Doric portico and
+plain wall surfaces. More notable was his grandiose project, also of 1791, for the Haga
+Slott in the form of a very long peripteral temple with an octastyle pedimented portico
+projecting in the middle of the side. But Sweden saw no such monumental example of
+Romantic Classicism carried to execution. Typical of actual production is the country
+house at Stjamsund built in 1801 by C. F. Sundahl (1754-1831); this is more English
+than French in character, indeed with its plain rectangular mass and central portico
+almost literally Anglo-Palladian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Harassed and recurrently conquered or <i>gleichgeschaltet</i> though most of the German
+states were in the Napoleonic Wars (while Sweden eventually received a Napoleonic
+marshal as sovereign through the testament of her legitimate ruler) there was much
+more building altogether in these years of the turn of the century in Germany than in
+Sweden, or indeed in France, much of it of high quality. The frontispiece to Romantic
+Classicism in Germany is the Brandenburg Gate in Berlin, built in 1789-93 by K. G.
+Langhans (1733-1808). Still somewhat attenuated and un-Grecian in its proportions,
+this is the first of the Doric ceremonial gateways that were to be so characteristic of
+Romantic Classicism everywhere and also one of the most complex and original in
+composition. More ponderous and provincial is Langhans’s Potsdam theatre of 1795;
+but the Stadttheater at Danzig of 1798-1801 by Held, the City Architect, a cube with a
+Doric temple portico and a low saucer dome, follows a more Ledolcian paradigm.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>David Gilly (1748-1808) was a more advanced Berlin architect than the elderly
+Langhans; but his best work of these years is the Viewegsches Haus in Brunswick of
+1801-5 with its smooth stucco wall-planes, boldly incised ornament, and Greek Doric
+porch. More elegantly French is another Brunswick house of this period, the free-standing
+Villa Holland of 1805 by P. J. Krahe (1758-1840).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gilly would have been overshadowed by his son Friedrich (1771-1800) had the latter
+lived, or so one must judge, not from his modest Mölter house in the Tiergartenstrasse
+in Berlin of 1799, but from certain major projects. One, of 1797, is for a monument to
+Frederick the Great which was widely and deeply influential for many years to come;
+another, of 1800, is for a Prussian National Theatre, improving upon Ledoux’s at Besançon
+as regards the interior and very original in its external massing. The monument
+raised a Greek Doric temple on a tremendous substructure of the most abstract geometrical
+character, surrounded it with obelisks, and set the whole in a vast open space,
+unconfined but—as it were—defined by subsidiary structures of very fresh and varied
+design (Plate <a href='#pl009a'>9<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The handsome gateway to the square seems to provide evidence of
+Gilly’s familiarity with such a highly personal work of Soane as his entrance arch at
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>Tyringham (Plate <a href='#pl006a'>6<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); however, the general tone of somewhat funereal grandeur recalls
+rather the monumental projects of Ledoux, Boullée, and the younger men of
+France who designed so much and built so little in this decade. Other contemporary
+Berlin architects, such as Heinrich Gentz (1766-1801), who built the old Mint in 1798-1800,
+and Friedrich Becherer (1746-1823), who built the Exchange in 1801, while up-to-date
+stylistically, were much less accomplished than Friedrich Gilly. His artistic heir was
+his fellow pupil Schinkel, whose architectural career really began in 1816 (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i017'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i017.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 1. Friedrich Weinbrenner: Karlsruhe, Marktplatz, 1804-24, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Baden architect Friedrich Weinbrenner (1766-1826) was already active in Strasbourg
+in the 1790s, and his monument of 1800 to General Desaix on the Île des Épis,
+Bas-Rhin, is so French in every way that it properly finds a place in the official publication
+by Gourlier and others of the public works of France in these years. Returning to
+Karlsruhe, Weinbrenner began perhaps the most productive architectural career of any
+German of his generation, transforming the Baden capital into a Romantic Classical
+city somewhat less monumental, but more coherently exemplary, than Petersburg. His
+own house there dated from 1801 and his Ettlinger Gate from 1803. In 1804 he began
+work on the Marktplatz there, basing himself, however, on earlier projects that he had
+made in 1790 and in 1797 (Plate <a href='#pl010a'>10<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). A Baroque scheme exists on paper for this square,
+closing it in with continuous façades and curving them round the ends. Weinbrenner’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>characteristically Romantic Classical approach to the design of a square is quite different,
+similar to if somewhat less open than Friedrich Gilly’s intended setting for the Frederick
+the Great Monument (Figure <a href='#i017'>1</a>). Two balancing but not identical buildings, each more
+or less isolated, face each other across the centre of the oblong space. The other less important
+structures appear as separate blocks. Their relative geometrical purity is underlined
+by the even purer form of the plain pyramidal monument erected in the centre in
+1823. Such had for some time provided favourite decorations in Romantic gardens, but
+this was the first to be used as a focal accent in place of an arch, a column, or an obelisk.
+The City Hall on one side, with the associated Lyceum, was begun in 1804 and completed
+some twenty years later. The temple-like Evangelical Church which faces the
+City Hall was built in 1807-16. Something of the grand scale of the Corinthian portico
+on the front of the church is carried over into the interior, where two tiers of galleries
+run along the sides behind giant Corinthian nave colonnades. In the circular Rondellplatz,
+punctuated eventually by an obelisk in the centre, there rose in 1805-13 Weinbrenner’s
+Markgräfliches Palais, its portico set against the concave quadrant of the front.
+His domed Catholic church of 1808-17 was unfortunately entirely rebuilt in 1880-3.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Similar to Weinbrenner’s Rondellplatz is the Karolinenplatz in Munich, laid out by
+Karl von Fischer (1782-1820) in 1808. But this was originally even more Romantic
+Classical in disposition, since the individual houses were all discrete blocks set in the segments
+between the entering streets. The 106-foot obelisk in the centre here was erected
+in 1833 by Leo von Klenze (1784-1864). Fischer’s National Theatre in the Max-Josephsplatz
+in Munich, projected in 1810 and built in 1811-18—and later rebuilt by
+Klenze according to the original design after a fire in 1823—is a quite conventional monument
+of its day dominated by a great temple portico. Though not very crisp in its proportions,
+this theatre has real presence, particularly in relation to the less boldly scaled
+Renaissance Revival buildings by Klenze, the Königsbau of 1826 and the Hauptpostamt
+of ten years later, which flank it on the sides of the square.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not to extend unduly this catalogue of German work of the very opening years of the
+nineteenth century, one may conclude with mention of the Women’s Prison in Würzburg
+by Peter Speeth (1772-1831) built in 1809-10. In this, much of the boldness of design
+of the French prison projects of Ledoux and Boullée was happily realized, if at a rather
+modest scale (Plate <a href='#pl017b'>17<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Speeth later proceeded to Russia, but what he did there is a
+mystery.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Austrian production was rather limited and on the whole undistinguished in this
+period. The extant façade by Franz Jäger (1743-1809) of the Theater an der Wien of 1797-1801
+off the Linke Wienzeile in Vienna has a delicacy that is more <i>style Louis XVI</i> than
+Romantic Classical. Neither the Palais Rasumofsky at 23-25 Rasumofskygasse in Vienna
+of 1806-7, built by Louis Joseph von Montoyer (<i>c.</i> 1749-1811) for Beethoven’s patron,
+nor his Albertina of 1800-4 on the Augustinerbastei has much character. There is
+equally little to be said for the Palais Palffy of 1809 at 3 Wallnerstrasse by the other leading
+Viennese architect of the day, Karl von Moreau (1758-1841). Despite his French
+name, Montoyer was a Hapsburg subject from the Walloon provinces; Moreau’s origin
+is uncertain, but he is reputed to have been trained, if not born, in France. If he was not
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>French, Austria would be one of the few countries where no French architect worked in
+this period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A certain sort of primacy must certainly be given to France in this period, although
+less definitely than in the decades 1750-90, because the French became the educators of
+the world in architecture and the codifiers of style once a new post-Baroque style had
+been created. Among Napoleon’s new institutional establishments was the École Polytechnique.
+Here architecture was taught by Durand, a pupil of Boullée, under the Empire
+and the following Restoration. His <i>Précis des leçons</i> became a sort of Bible of later
+Romantic Classicism throughout his lifetime and even beyond. Above all in Germany,
+the instruction of Durand provided the link between the innovations of the creative decades
+before the Revolution in France and a new generation of architects who matured
+just in time to take over the building activities of the kingdoms which rose from the
+ruins of Napoleon’s empire. We may well precede any description of the achievements
+of Romantic Classicism after 1810 with some consideration of Durand’s treatise.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>
+  <h2 id='ch02' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 2</span><br />THE DOCTRINE OF J.-N.-L. DURAND AND ITS APPLICATION IN NORTHERN EUROPE</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>From</span> the time of Louis XIV France had been unique in possessing a highly organized
+system of architectural education. Under the aegis of the Académie, students were prepared
+for professional practice in a way all but unknown elsewhere. To crown their
+formal training came the opportunity, determined by competition, for the ablest to
+spend several years of further study as <i>pensionnaires</i> in Rome. The revolutionary years of
+the 1790s disrupted temporarily the French pattern of architectural education and recurrent
+wars cut off access to Rome. The Empire, however, early re-established the pattern
+of higher professional education with only slight and nominal differences. From 1806
+on, moreover, the competition projects for the Prix de Rome, including those from as
+far back as 1791, were handsomely published in a series of volumes.<a id="r38"></a><a href='#f38' class='c025'><sup>[38]</sup></a> Thus the whole
+international world of architecture could henceforth have ready access to the visual results
+of official French training in architecture, if not to the actual discipline of the
+Parisian ateliers.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Napoleon, as an ex-ordnance officer, felt more sympathy with engineers than with
+architects; hence he established a new École Polytechnique, where architecture was included
+in the curriculum along with various sciences and technics. J.-N.-L. Durand
+(1760-1834), the new school’s professor of architecture, published his <i>Précis des leçons
+d’architecture données à l’École Polytechnique</i> in two volumes in 1802-5, thus making a
+fairly complete presentation of the content of French architectural education generally
+available.<a id="r39"></a><a href='#f39' class='c025'><sup>[39]</sup></a> Recurrent issues of this work down to 1840, of which at least one appeared
+outside France—in Belgium—allowed this popular treatise to become a sort of bible of
+Romantic Classicism that retained international authority for a generation and more.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Durand was a pupil of Boullée; but both the text and the plates of his book indicate
+his capacity for synthesizing and systematizing the diverse strands of theory and practice
+that had developed in France in the previous forty years. Because of his temperament
+and background, and <i>a fortiori</i> because he was teaching not in an art academy but in a
+technical school, Durand is doubtless to be classed within his generation as a proponent
+of structural rationalism. But he was a much more eclectic one than Soufflot’s disciple
+Rondelet, from 1795 professor at the École Centrale des Travaux Publics and author of
+the major treatise on building construction of the period.<a id="r40"></a><a href='#f40' class='c025'><sup>[40]</sup></a> Durand’s lessons incorporated
+many other aspects of Romantic Classicism, from the pure Classical Revivalism of one
+wing of the academic world to an eclectic interest in Renaissance and even, like his
+master Boullée, in certain medieval modes; only the recondite symbolism of Ledoux is
+absent. In general, one feels in Durand’s case, as always with the second generation of an
+artistic movement, some loss of intensity at various points where the awkward edges of
+opposed sources of inspiration were clipped to allow their coherent codification.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>After a theoretical introduction concerning the goal of architecture, its structural
+means, and the general principles to be derived therefrom, Durand deals as a convinced
+‘constructor’ with various materials and their proper employment before treating of
+specific forms and their combination. Only in the second part of his work, concerned
+with ways of combining architectural elements, do the visual results of his theories become
+fully evident. There he presents in plan and in elevation various structural systems
+from trabeated colonnades of Greek and Roman inspiration to arcuated and vaulted
+forms of Renaissance or even round-arched medieval character. Among his specific
+examples, ‘vertical combinations’ of fifteenth- or sixteenth-century elements outnumber
+the strictly Classical paradigms (Figure <a href='#i021'>2</a>); whole plates, moreover, are given
+to schemes that are not only generically Italianate, but of Early Christian, Romanesque,
+or even Gothic, rather than Renaissance, inspiration. Common to most of his examples
+is the insistent repetition of elements, both horizontally and vertically, and most characteristic
+is his interest in the varied skylines that central and corner towers can provide,
+as also in the incorporation of voids in architectural compositions in the form of
+loggias and pergolas. More monumental façades fronted by temple porticoes are in a
+minority, although colonnades are frequent enough in his presentation of such specific
+features as porches, vestibules, halls, galleries, and central spaces. Here are to be found
+most of the detailed formulas—almost all derived from Boullée and from the Grand
+Prix projects of the previous decade—which the next generation of architects would
+follow again and again throughout most of the western world.</p>
+
+<div id='i021'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i021.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 2. J.-N.-L. Durand: ‘Vertical Combinations’ (from <i>Précis des leçons</i>, 1805)</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>In his second volume Durand turns from a consideration of architecture
+in terms of structural elements to a notably systematic presentation
+of buildings in terms of their varying functions. First he deals with
+urbanistic features, including not only bridges, streets, and squares,
+but also such supposedly essential elements of the ideal classicizing
+city as triumphal arches and tombs. A second section considers temples
+(not churches, it is amusing to note), palaces, treasuries, law
+courts, town halls, colleges, libraries, museums, observatories,
+lighthouses, markets, exchanges, custom houses, exhibition buildings,
+theatres, baths, hospitals, prisons, and barracks. Here were all the
+individual structures of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>the model Napoleonic city, of which Napoleon had time to build
+so few but of which the next decades in France and abroad were to see
+so many executed by Durand’s pupils and other emulators of his ideals.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For less representational edifices, from town halls and markets to
+prisons and barracks, Durand’s utilitarianism led him to substitute
+for colonnades and domes plain walls broken by ranges of arcuated
+openings, sometimes of <i>quattrocento</i> or Roman-aqueduct character
+but as often of vaguely medieval inspiration. For nearly a half
+century such paradigms were very frequently followed, not only in
+France but even more in other countries, as Classicism continued to
+grow more Romantic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nor were the designs for houses that Durand provided in the final
+section of his book entirely uninfluential.<a id="r41"></a><a href='#f41' class='c025'><sup>[41]</sup></a> However, there were
+fewer of these, and the inspiration of far more executed work of the
+next forty or fifty years can be traced to his paradigms for public
+monuments than to his prescriptions for private dwellings. Indeed,
+Romantic Classicism is a predominantly public style, and its
+utilitarianism is of the State rather than of the private individual.
+However, the opposing current of the Picturesque, reflected in
+Durand’s book only in his concern for the ‘employment of the objects
+of nature in the composition of edifices’ (by which he meant hardly
+more than Italianate fountains and even more Italianate vine-hung
+loggias), provided amply for the individual
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It might seem natural to continue from this discussion of Durand’s treatise with some
+account of the executed architecture of France during the final years of the Empire after
+1810, under the last Bourbons, and under Louis Philippe. Actually, however, the most
+concrete examples of Durand’s influence, and certainly the finest Durandesque monuments,
+are to be found not in France but in Germany and Denmark.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the time of Napoleon, French influence on German architecture was a
+very old story. More and more French architects were employed by
+German princes as the eighteenth century proceeded, and by 1800 there
+were few German centres without examples of their work. As we have
+seen in the previous chapter, moreover, the work of various German
+architects in the 1790s and the early 1800s, whether or not they had
+actually studied or even travelled in France, showed their devotion to
+the early ideals of Romantic Classicism. Such men as K. G. Langhans
+and David Gilly in Berlin, Fischer in Munich, or Weinbrenner in
+Karlsruhe had no Napoleon to employ them; but they were happier than
+his architects in seeing their major works brought to relatively early
+completion. At Karlsruhe Weinbrenner’s comprehensive projects for the
+new quarters of the town continued to go forward down to his death in
+1826. By that time his City Hall had finally been finished, and street
+after street of modest houses filled out the pattern of a coherent
+Romantic Classical city.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Karlsruhe Marktplatz stands as one of the happiest ensembles of
+the early nineteenth century, happy not alone because Weinbrenner, who
+first conceived it, was able to carry it to final completion before
+architectural fashions had begun to change, but even more because that
+first conception dated back to the most vigorous period of the
+architectural revolution in Germany and was not notably diluted by the
+more pedestrian standards of later days (Plate <a href='#pl010a'>10<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+In detail, perhaps, the original designs for the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>individual buildings were bolder; but the ideal of a public square,
+not walled in in the Baroque way but defined by discrete blocks,
+balanced but not identical, and focused by the eye-catching diagonals
+of the central pyramid, a geometric shape as pure as the cube or the
+sphere yet also an established formal symbol and a subtle memory of
+the Egyptian past, was fully realized (Figure <a href='#i017'>1</a>). Outside the
+Marktplatz, except perhaps in the Rondellplatz with its central
+obelisk, Weinbrenner’s work is more provincial though in a very
+distinguished way. Here and there, moreover, a pointed arch or a touch
+of asymmetry showed his early response to the contemporary currents of
+the Picturesque.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Weinbrenner’s death in 1826 and the succession as State architect of
+Baden of his pupil Heinrich Hübsch (1795-1863) provides a natural
+break in the Romantic Classical story at just that point when the rise
+of new ideals began to make the more Classical side of Romantic
+Classicism out of date—in 1828 Hübsch himself published a
+characteristic essay, <i>In welchem Styl sollen wir bauen?</i>, a
+question to which the answers were increasingly various, and rarely
+the Classical style. Elsewhere in Germany, and notably in Bavaria,
+where the Wittelsbachs, raised to kingship while in alliance with
+Napoleon, were also the most culturally ambitious rulers of a
+post-Napoleonic state, there is no such sharp break. Leo von Klenze,
+born in 1784 in Hildesheim, lived until 1864; his Munich Propylaeon,
+completed only the year before his death and begun as late as 1846, is
+by no means the least Grecian of his works. Klenze (he was ennobled by
+his royal patron) had studied in Paris under the Empire not only under
+Durand at the École Polytechnique but also with Percier. In 1805 he
+had visited the other two main sources of up-to-date architectural
+inspiration, Italy with its Classical ruins and its Renaissance
+palaces, and England with its own early version of Romantic Classicism
+and its various illustrations of the Picturesque. In 1808 Napoleon’s
+brother Jerome, then King of Westphalia, who was already employing
+A.-H.-V. Grandjean de Montigny (1776-1850), had made the
+twenty-four-year-old Paris-trained German his court architect; in 1814
+Maximilian I called him to Munich.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1816 Klenze began his first major construction, the Munich Glyptothek, a characteristic
+and externally somewhat dull sculpture gallery. This is dominated in the established
+French way by a tall temple portico in the centre, and the blank walls at either
+side are relieved, none too happily, by aedicular niches. But if the exterior (which survived
+the blitz) is conventional enough the interiors, completed in 1830 and originally
+filled—among other magnificent antiquities—with the sculpture from the temple at
+Aegina as repaired and installed by Thorwaldsen, made it one of the finest productions
+of the great early age of museum-building as long as they existed (Plate <a href='#pl009b'>9<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The plan,
+with a range of top-lit galleries around a court, was generically Durandesque in its
+square modularity; the sections followed almost line for line one of Durand’s paradigms
+for art galleries (Figure <a href='#i024'>3</a>). The sumptuous decoration of the vaults and the superb
+sculpture so handsomely arranged by Thorwaldsen provided a mixture of periods—real
+fifth-century Greek and Empire—distressing to purists but wonderfully symptomatic of
+the ideals of the age.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Glyptothek was the first building erected in the Königsplatz, a very typical
+Romantic Classical urbanistic entity. Faced by an even more completely columniated
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>picture gallery, built by G. F. Ziebland (1800-73) in 1838-48, with Klenze’s Propylaeon
+of 1846-63 forming the far side of the square, the Königsplatz has all the coldness and
+barrenness which Weinbrenner happily avoided in his Marktplatz; by the time of its
+completion this must have seemed very out of date, not least to Klenze himself. But as
+the Propylaeon indicates, Klenze never eschewed trabeated Classicism, however much
+his best later work belongs to—indeed to a considerable extent actually initiates—the
+Renaissance Revival.</p>
+
+<div id='i024'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 3. J.-N.-L. Durand: ‘Galleries’ (from <i>Précis des leçons</i>, 1805)</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>His Walhalla<a id="r42"></a><a href='#f42' class='c025'><sup>[42]</sup></a> near Regensburg, built in 1831-42 but based on designs prepared a decade
+or more earlier, is the most grandly sited of all the copies of Greek and Roman
+temples which succeeded in the first half of the nineteenth century Jefferson’s initial
+large-scale example at Richmond, Virginia. Like the finest ancient Greek temples, it is
+raised high on a hill—that is actually what is most truly Classical about it, as it is also,
+paradoxically, what may today seem most specifically Romantic
+(Plate <a href='#pl016a'>16<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But the tremendous substructure of staircases
+and terraces, derived from Friedrich Gilly’s project for the monument
+to Frederick the Great (Plate <a href='#pl009a'>9<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), could belong to
+no other period than this.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the thirties Klenze, who had already visited Greece in 1823-4 before the establishment
+of a Wittelsbach monarchy gave employment to Bavarian architects there, was
+called to Petersburg. There, in 1839-49, rose his Hermitage Museum. The elaborate detailing
+of this, however Grecian it may be in intention, reflects the growing taste for
+elaboration in the second quarter of the century as his other Classical works do not.
+Still later, though not as late as the Propylaeon, is the Munich Ruhmeshalle of 1843-53,
+a
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+Doric stoa which provides in the Hellenistic way a setting for a giant statue
+of Bavaria by Schwanthaler. This is dull, and still in the old-established Grecian mode
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>of the earlier years of the century. More characteristically, however, Klenze left all that
+behind him even before 1825, when Maximilian I was succeeded by Ludwig I.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Museums are the most typical monuments of Romantic Classicism, as a whole range
+of them<a id="r43"></a><a href='#f43' class='c025'><sup>[43]</sup></a> from the Museo Pio-Clementino by Michelangelo Simonetti (1724-81) at the
+Vatican in Rome of 1769-74 down at least to the Neuere Pinakothek in Munich of
+1846-53 by August von Voit (1801-71) sufficiently illustrate. The two most purely
+Grecian examples, Smirke’s British Museum in London (Plate <a href='#pl033'>33</a>) and Schinkel’s
+Neues (later Altes) Museum in Berlin (Plate <a href='#pl013'>13</a>), were not yet designed when Klenze
+first turned his attention in the years 1822-5 to planning a gallery for paintings at
+Munich. Begun in 1826 and completed in 1833, the Pinakothek (later Ältere Pinakothek)
+might be considered the earliest monumental example of revived High Renaissance
+design. Yet there is little about it that cannot be matched in published French Grand
+Prix projects or in the plates of Durand; Bonnard’s ministry on the Quai d’Orsay in
+Paris, moreover, must have been rather similar. The Pinakothek was largely destroyed
+in the Second World War, but has now been rebuilt according to Klenze’s original
+design, except for the ceiling decorations.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another building by Klenze, the Königsbau section of the Royal palace in Munich,
+fronting on the Max-Josephplatz at right angles to Fischer’s theatre, is a more attractive
+early example of the Renaissance Revival. Begun in the same year 1826 as the Ältere
+Pinakothek, it was completed in 1833. The façade follows closely that of the Pitti Palace
+as extended in the seventeenth century, but carries the pilasters of Alberti’s Rucellai
+Palace, and in designing it Klenze must have drawn heavily on the <i>Architecture toscane</i>
+of Grandjean de Montigny.<a id="r44"></a><a href='#f44' class='c025'><sup>[44]</sup></a> The planning inside is curiously free and asymmetrical considering
+the total regularity of the fenestration, but then little trace of the original Pitti
+plan had survived to be followed by an imitator.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1836 Klenze completed this square, so characteristic a product of two generations
+of Romantic Classicism, by facing the eighteenth-century Palais Törring on the other
+side from the Königsbau with a <i>quattrocento</i> arcade in order to provide a monumental
+and harmonious Central Post Office. Another earlier square, the Odeonsplatz, with
+Klenze’s Leuchtenberg Palais of 1819, his matching Odeon completed in 1828, and a
+range of shops of 1822, also by him, on the other side of the Ludwigstrasse, has almost as
+much Italian Renaissance feeling but is less derivatively Tuscan. It follows rather the
+work of his master Percier in Paris under the Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The increasing eclecticism of Romantic Classical architects is well illustrated by the
+fact that the Court Church<a id="r45"></a><a href='#f45' class='c025'><sup>[45]</sup></a> attached to the palace at the rear was built by Klenze in the
+same years as the Königsbau, 1826-37. This is covered by a series of domes on pendentives,
+derived presumably from the Madeleine in Paris but detailed to suggest, as
+Vignon’s do not, the ultimately Byzantine origin of the structural form; the immediate
+prototype, however, was probably one of Schinkel’s projects for the Werder Church
+in Berlin (see below).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the creation of the principal street of Ludwigian Munich, the Ludwigstrasse, a
+rival of Klenze’s, Friedrich von Gärtner (1792-1847), like Klenze ennobled by his
+sovereign, played a more important role. Born in Coblenz, Gärtner studied first at the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>Munich Academy, where he was later to be professor of architecture and, from 1841,
+director. After his studies in Munich, he travelled in France, Italy, Holland, and England,
+although he had no formal foreign training such as Klenze’s. Gärtner’s first major
+work, destined by its tall twin towers to dominate the long and rather monotonous
+perspective of the Ludwigstrasse, was the Ludwigskirche built in 1829-40 (Plate <a href='#pl010b'>10<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+If Klenze’s Court Church was Byzantinesque, Gärtner’s church was Romanesquoid,
+though still in a rather Durandesque way. Even more Durandesque, and very much
+finer, is the long façade of Gärtner’s State Library next door, which was built in 1831-40
+(Plate <a href='#pl010b'>10<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Here the tawny tones of the brick and terracotta, as much as the slightly
+medievalizing detail of the arcuated front, give evidence of the Romantic rejection of
+the monochromy typical of the Greek Revival. But if this façade is warm in colour it
+could hardly be colder in design, throwing into happy relief the richer <i>ordonnance</i> of
+Klenze’s nearby War Office of 1824-6 with its rusticated arches and low wings (Figure <a href='#i026'>4</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i026'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i026.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 4. Leo von Klenze: Munich, War Office, 1824-6, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Rounding out the Ludwigstrasse are many other consonant structures. By Klenze is
+the Herzog Max Palais of 1826-30 on the right; by Gärtner the Blindeninstitut of
+1834-8, farther down opposite the Ludwigskirche, and the University of 1834-40 together
+with the Max Joseph Stift that complete the terminal square. There stands also
+the inharmoniously Roman Siegestor of 1843-50 which is, rather surprisingly, also by
+Gärtner. Far more appropriate, if equally unoriginal, is his Feldherrenhalle of 1841-4
+at the other end of the street above the Odeonsplatz, a close copy of the fourteenth-century
+Loggia dei Lanzi in Florence. The whole area constitutes what is perhaps the
+finest, or at least the most coherent, range of streets and squares of the later and more
+eclectic phase of Romantic Classicism. This exceeds in extent, though not in quality,
+Weinbrenner’s Marktplatz in Karlsruhe of the preceding quarter century. This brilliant
+Munich period came to an end on Ludwig I’s abdication in 1848; his successor Maximilian
+II’s attempt to find a ‘new style’ for his Maximilianstrasse in the next decade was a
+dismal fiasco, for this ‘new style’ as applied by Friedrich Bürklein (1813-73), a pupil
+of Gärtner, in building up the new street in 1852-9 proved to be merely a fussy and
+muddled approach to the English Perpendicular, already employed with more success by
+Bürklein’s master.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>Before his death, the year before Maximilian II’s accession, Gärtner had all but completed
+the Wittelsbach Palace. This he had begun in 1843 using a very Durandesque
+version of English Tudor executed in red brick. Red brick also characterizes another
+example of contemporary eclecticism, the Bonifazius Basilika of 1835-40 by Ziebland.
+This was designed, as its name implies, in a Romantic Classical version of the Early
+Christian; but it is much less Roman in detail than the great French and Italian churches
+of the period of this generic basilican order (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most of these variant aspects of later Romantic Classicism in Munich, whether Early
+Christian, Byzantine, Romanesque, Italian Gothic, or <i>quattrocento</i> in inspiration, are
+also examples of what was called at this time in Germany the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>.<a id="r46"></a><a href='#f46' class='c025'><sup>[46]</sup></a> A large and
+prominent example in Munich, late enough to illustrate how this special mode of
+Romantic Classicism deteriorated after the mid century, was Bürklein’s railway station
+built in 1857-60. The whole station has now been largely but not entirely destroyed by
+bombing; originally it had a handsome shed with very heavy arched principals of
+timber.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although the mode may be readily paralleled in other North European countries,
+the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> is peculiarly German. It was, indeed, the favourite mode of the
+thirties and forties in most German states; certainly it is comparable in local importance
+to the mature Gothic Revival of these decades in England as the German Neo-Gothic is
+not (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). Deriving from the more utilitarian arcuated models provided by
+Durand (and ultimately from the projects of his master Boullée and other French architects
+of the 1780s), the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> is still a phase of Romantic Classicism even if in it
+the Romantic element has risen close to dominance. But in its rigidity of composition,
+repetition of identical elements, and emphasis on direct structural expression it is wholly
+in the line of the earlier and more Classical rationalism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The changing taste of these decades usually demanded ever more and busier detail.
+Rivalry with the archaeological pretensions of the Greek Revival, moreover, called for
+a certain parade of stylistic erudition. But the archaeological sources drawn upon were
+very various and to varying degrees effectively documented. From the Early Christian
+to the <i>quattrocento</i>, most of them were more or less Italianate. However, there were
+some architects who succeeded—like Gärtner at the Wittelsbach Palace—in using
+pointed-arched precedent in a characteristically <i>Rundbogenstil</i> way; others elaborated
+their detail with real originality rather than adhering closely to any past precedent
+at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On its <i>quattrocento</i> side the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> was perhaps
+most notably represented in Germany by the Johanneum in Hamburg of
+1836-9 (completely destroyed in the Second World War), a large
+building surrounding three sides of a court and incorporating two
+schools and a library (Plate <a href='#pl011b'>11<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This was by C. L.
+Wimmel (1786-1845), like Hübsch a pupil of Weinbrenner, and F. G. J.
+Forsmann (1795-1878). This particular <i>Rundbogenstil</i> work can
+also be classified as belonging, like Klenze’s Königsbau, to the
+international Renaissance Revival of which Hamburg was rather a
+centre. For example, the extant Exchange there of 1836-41 by these
+same architects is of richer and more High Renaissance character and
+not at all <i>Rundbogenstil</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>Many houses in Hamburg built by Gottfried Semper (1803-79), Alexis de Chateauneuf
+(1799-1853), who had studied in Paris, and others in the forties were of elegant
+Early Renaissance design—one by the former even having <i>sgraffiti</i> on the walls—more
+like Klenze’s row of shops in the Odeonsplatz. The Rücker-Jenisch house of 1845 by the
+Swiss-born Auguste de Meuron (1813-98), a pupil of the same French architect,
+A.-F.-R. Leclerc, as de Chateauneuf, was certainly not <i>Rundbogenstil</i> but rather a version
+of the Travellers’ Club in London. Thus it followed, in this anglicizing city, an epoch-making
+model by Charles Barry that dates from fifteen years earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch04'>4</a>).
+However, de Chateauneuf’s Alster Arcade beside the waters of the Kleine Alster and
+his red brick Alte Post (now the Welt-Wirtschafts-Archiv) of 1845-7 in the Poststrasse
+are both prominent and excellent examples of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> of this period in Hamburg,
+the latter being slightly Gothic in its detailing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The work of Hübsch, Weinbrenner’s successor as State architect in Baden, despite his
+very serious archaeological study of Early Christian and Romanesque architecture,<a id="r47"></a><a href='#f47' class='c025'><sup>[47]</sup></a>
+falls somewhere between Gärtner’s Ludwigskirche and Ziebland’s Bonifazius Basilika
+without achieving either the crisply Durandesque quality of the one or the relative
+archaeological plausibility of the other. In his civil buildings, such as the very simple
+Ministry of Finance designed in 1827 and built in 1829-33, the more ornate Technische
+Hochschule of 1832-6, the Art Gallery of 1840-9, and the Theatre of 1851-3, all
+in Karlsruhe, very considerable originality of composition was more and more confused
+as he grew older by the fussy elaboration of the terracotta ornamentation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In his later work Hübsch frequently used not the round but the segmental arch—a
+highly rational form with brick masonry—and was usually somewhat happier than the
+Bavarians in handling the tawny tonalities of brick and terracotta which so generally
+replaced the pale monochromy of the Greek Revival in the thirties and forties. A minor
+but especially fine example of his most personal manner is the Trinkhalle of 1840 at
+Baden-Baden (Plate <a href='#pl011a'>11<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), rather better suited in its festive spirit to a watering-place
+than the Classical severity of Weinbrenner’s Kurhaus there of 1821-3. Hübsch’s churches
+are naturally more archaeological in character and definitely more Romanesquoid than
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i>. Those at Freiburg (1829-38), Bulach (1834-7), and Rottenburg (1834) are
+typical. The <i>Rundbogenstil</i> railway stations of another Baden architect, Friedrich Eisenlohr
+(1804-55), at Karlsruhe (1842) and Freiburg precede Bürklein’s in Munich in date
+and are rather superior to it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The <i>Rundbogenstil</i> was particularly dominant in the southern German states, overflowing
+also into Switzerland, where the Federal Palace in Berne, built in 1851-7 by
+Friedrich Studer (1817-70), is a particularly extensive and nobly sited example. It was,
+however, in Prussia in the north of Germany that the greatest architect who worked in
+this mode was active, and he owes his reputation largely to his Grecian work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Karl Friedrich von Schinkel, the only architect of the first half of the nineteenth century
+who can be compared in stature with the English Soane, was the great international
+master of two successive phases of Romantic Classicism, first of the programmatic
+Greek Revival, with which the post-Napoleonic period began almost everywhere in the
+second decade of the century, and then of the more eclectic phase that followed. Born
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>in 1781, a generation later than Soane, Schinkel’s serious architectural production began
+only in 1816. His relatively early death in 1841 truncated his career; but his pupils and
+his spirit dominated Prussian, and indeed most of German, architecture for another
+score of years and more.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Somewhat as the long-lived Titian stood to the short-lived Giorgione stood Schinkel
+in relation to his near-contemporary and associate Friedrich Gilly, whose projects
+have already been mentioned (Plate <a href='#pl009a'>9<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Indeed, Schinkel showed almost as great a
+capacity to absorb and continue the revolutionary architectural ideals of the 1780s in
+France as Gilly—more, certainly, than most of the foreigners who visited Paris during
+the unproductive years following the Revolution, or even those who stayed on to study
+there.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Schinkel, however, soon to be one of the most architectonic of architects, made his
+earliest mark not with architectural projects but, like Inigo Jones in England before
+him, as a designer of theatre sets. Down to 1815 he executed no buildings of any consequence;
+but in his paintings of these years, even more perhaps than in his stage sets, he
+established himself as a High Romantic artist of real distinction. At their best these follow
+in quality very closely after the master works of German Romantic landscape by
+Caspar David Friedrich. Characteristically, buildings play an important part in Schinkel’s
+pictures, and vast Gothic constructions in the ‘Sublime’ spirit of Wyatt’s Fonthill
+Abbey are actually more frequent than Grecian or Italianate fabricks.</p>
+
+<div id='i029'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i029.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 5. Karl Friedrich von Schinkel: project for Neue Wache, Berlin, 1816</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>But if Gothic projects form a more important part of his production on canvas, and
+also on paper, in the first decades of the century than is the case with any other architect of
+the period, even in England, Schinkel made his formal architectural debut as a Grecian
+and a rationalist. Named by Frederick William III State architect in 1815, his project
+of the next year for the Neue Wache (Figure <a href='#i029'>5</a>), Unter den Linden, facing Frederick
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>the Great’s opera house, is especially notable in the use of square piers—a Ledolcian
+extreme of rationalist simplification—beneath the Grecian pediment. His intense
+Romanticism also reveals itself in the heads of Pergamenian extravagance that writhe
+forth from the frieze above. Not surprisingly, in the building as executed, and happily
+still extant, Greek Doric columns replace the square piers. But the broad plain members
+that frame the cubic mass behind and, above all, the superb proportions of the
+whole reveal a surer hand than any other architect of the day in Germany possessed.
+The contrast with Klenze’s Glyptothek, begun the same year, is notable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Schinkel’s Berlin Cathedral, as rebuilt in 1817-22 beside the Baroque Schloss of
+Andreas Schlüter, was a modest work and none too successful; its replacement in 1894-1905
+by the enormous Neo-Baroque structure of Julius Raschdorf was no great loss.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There followed after the Cathedral a work of much greater scale, the Berlin Schauspielhaus,
+designed in 1818 and built in 1819-21 (Plate <a href='#pl012'>12</a>). Here the complexity of the
+mass diminishes somewhat the clarity of the geometrical order in the separate parts; but
+Schinkel’s rationalistic handling of Grecian elements is nowhere better seen than in the
+articulation of the attic by means of a ‘pilastrade’ of small antae or the reticulated organization
+of the walls of the side wings. The interior of the auditorium boldly combines
+very simple and heavily scaled wall elements with very delicately designed iron supports
+for the ranges of boxes and galleries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Characteristic of the many-sidedness of Schinkel’s talent, if very much smaller and intrinsically
+less happy, is the War Memorial, also of 1819-21, on the Kreuzberg in Berlin.
+This is a Gothic shrine of the most lacy and linear design, 111 feet high and entirely
+executed in cast iron.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Singakademie in Berlin of 1822 and a large house in Charlottenburg for the
+banker Behrend, on the other hand, are very accomplished exercises in a rigidly Classical
+mode such as his French contemporaries were currently essaying with markedly less
+elegance of proportion. The Zivilcasino in Potsdam, begun the next year, where an
+awkward site forced—or perhaps merely justified—an asymmetrical juxtaposition of the
+parts, illustrated an aspect of Schinkel’s talent that is particularly significant to his
+twentieth-century admirers: the imposition of coherent geometrical order upon an
+edifice markedly irregular in its massing. This was something the English were only
+playing at in these years when they designed Picturesque Italian Villas such as Nash’s
+Cronkhill or loosely composed Castellated Mansions such as Gwrych (Plate <a href='#pl049'>49</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is characteristic of Romantic Classicism that Schinkel’s masterpiece—and, with
+Soane’s later Bank interiors, the masterpiece of the period—should be a museum.
+The Altes Museum, designed in 1823 and built in 1824-8, faces the Schloss across
+the Lustgarten, to which Schinkel’s just completed Schlossbrücke gave a dignified
+new approach. The Museum quite outranked his rather undistinguished cathedral; yet
+at first glance it may seem one of the least original and most tamely archaeological of
+Romantic Classical buildings (Plate <a href='#pl013'>13</a>). Substituting for the paradigm of the pedimented
+peripteral temple that of the stoa, Schinkel evidently counted on the prestige of
+a giant Grecian order to impress his contemporaries, quite as Brongniart had done at the
+Paris Bourse (Plate <a href='#pl008b'>8<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). But the Museum retains the admiration of a twentieth century
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>usually bored, and even shocked, by such stylophily because of the extraordinary logic
+and elegance of its total organization.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The frontal plane of superbly detailed Ionic columns is not weak at the corners, as
+colonnades seen against the light generally are, for here spur walls ending in antae firmly
+enframe the long, unbroken range. And if this frontal columnar plane is unbroken—and
+also seems to deny by its giant scale the fact that this is a two-storey structure—within
+the dark of the portico, made darker and more Romantic by a richly coloured mural
+designed by Schinkel and executed under the direction of Peter Cornelius, one soon
+becomes aware of a recessed oblong where a double flight of stairs leads to the upper
+storey. Moreover, lest this façade be read, like a stoa, as no more than a portico, there
+rises over the centre, still farther to the rear, a rectangular attic.</p>
+
+<div id='i031'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i031.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 6. Karl Friedrich von Schinkel: Berlin, Altes Museum, 1824-8 section</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is characteristic of the purism of Schinkel’s approach, a purism not archaeological
+but visual, that this attic masks externally a Durandesque central domed space (Figure
+6). Such circular central spaces, so recurrent in Romantic Classical planning, had been
+a favourite setting for classical sculpture, the principal treasure of most art collections
+of this period, ever since the Museo Pio-Clementino was built at the Vatican. None
+is finer than this in the proportional relationship of interior colonnade, plain wall
+above, and coffered dome with oculus. Most, indeed, are but feeble copies of the Roman
+Pantheon; this exceeds in distinction, if not in scale, its ancient original.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the Museum, unlike the Munich Glyptothek, had to have picture galleries as
+well as sculpture halls; and Schinkel’s organization of these, so much less palatial than
+Klenze’s in his Pinakothek, is a technical triumph of the rationalistic side of Romantic
+Classicism. Screens at right angles to the windows, and thus free from glare, provided
+the greater part of the hanging space, a premonition almost of the movable screens of
+mid-twentieth-century art galleries (Figure <a href='#i031'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>The external treatment of the rear walls of the Museum, moreover, achieved a clarity
+of mathematical organization and a subtlety of structural expression in the detailing
+which was also hardly equalled before the mid twentieth century. Tall windows in two
+even ranges express clearly the two storeys of galleries behind; the stuccoed walls between
+delicately suggest by their flat rustication—so like that Soane used on the Bank of
+England—the scale of fine ashlar masonry. But the giant order of the front is also clearly
+echoed in the flat corner antae just short of which the string-course between the storeys
+and the rustication of the walls are stopped. A prototype of such detailing can be seen
+in the Athenian Propylaea, no doubt familiar to Schinkel through publications; a derivation—or
+at least a superb twentieth-century parallel—is the way Mies van der Rohe
+handles the juxtaposition of steel stanchions and brick infilling in his buildings erected
+for the Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago in the last fifteen years
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The rapid deterioration of rationalist Grecian standards, which followed within a few
+decades even in the hands of Schinkel’s ablest pupils, is to be noted in the Neues Museum,
+built in 1843-55 by F. A. Stüler (1800-65) behind the Altes Museum. It is even more
+evident in the contiguous Nationalgalerie, also by Stüler but based on a sketch by
+Frederick William IV. This temple stands on a very high substructure in an awkward
+perversion of the theme of Gilly’s monument to Frederick the Great and Klenze’s
+Walhalla. It was finished only in 1876 by which time, even in Germany, Romantic
+Classicism was completely dead (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Behind his museum Schinkel himself had built in 1828-32, along the banks of the
+Kupfergraben, the Packhofgebäude. This range of utilitarian structures was definitely
+consonant, towards the Museum, with the Grecian rationalism of its rear façade. But
+for the warehouses at the remote end of the group Schinkel used a rather direct transcription
+of Durand’s paradigm for an arcuated market.<a id="r48"></a><a href='#f48' class='c025'><sup>[48]</sup></a> Here, at almost precisely the
+same time as at Gärtner’s State Library in Munich and Hübsch’s Ministry of Finance in
+Karlsruhe, the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> makes an early appearance as an alternative to the trabeated
+Grecian. In comparably utilitarian works of a few years earlier, the Military Prison in
+Berlin begun in 1825 and the lighthouse at Arkona of the same date, Schinkel had
+already used dark brickwork unstuccoed, but with square rather than arched openings;
+while on his long-demolished Hamburg Opera House, begun also in 1825 and completed
+in 1827, there were arched openings throughout of a somewhat High Renaissance
+order but far more severely treated than by Klenze on his Munich Pinakothek.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To the year 1825 belongs too the beginning of the Werder Church in Berlin, Gothic
+in its vaults, as also in its detail, and executed in brick and terracotta. Less just in its scaling
+than his earlier Gothic monument of cast iron, this church as executed makes one regret
+that Schinkel’s domed project of 1822, derived either from Vignon’s interior of the
+Madeleine in Paris or from one of Durand’s paradigms, was not executed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1826 began Schinkel’s extensive and varied work for the Royal family at Potsdam,<a id="r49"></a><a href='#f49' class='c025'><sup>[49]</sup></a>
+the town destined to be the richest centre of later Prussian Romantic Classicism. Here he
+worked in close association with the heir to the throne who was later, after 1840, king
+as Frederick William IV. This romantic and talented prince—who actually wished he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>were an architect rather than a ruler—frequently provided Schinkel and, after his death,
+Schinkel’s pupils with sketches from which as we have seen in the case of the Nationalgalerie)
+various executed buildings were elaborated with more or less success. One of
+the great amateurs, his was a very late example of direct Royal intervention in architecture.
+Some of the modulation of Schinkel’s style towards the Picturesque—still more
+evident in the work at Potsdam of his ablest pupil Ludwig Persius (1803-45)—may
+be credited to this princely patron.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Berlin, in the later twenties, Schinkel was also remodelling and redecorating palaces
+for Frederick William’s brothers, major works in scale but rather limited in architectural
+interest.<a id="r50"></a><a href='#f50' class='c025'><sup>[50]</sup></a> More characteristic of Schinkel’s best Grecian manner is the somewhat later
+palace for Prince William built in 1834-5 by the younger Langhans (K. F., 1781-1869).
+This architect’s still later theatre at Breslau, begun in 1843, is worth mention at this
+point and also the old Russian Embassy of 1840-1 in Berlin by Eduard Knoblauch (1801-65),
+but Schinkel’s comparable work is fifteen years earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Potsdam, even though much of what he did there also consisted of enlarging earlier
+buildings, Schinkel was freer than in Berlin. Collaboration with the gardener P. J.
+Lenné (1789-1866), who provided superb naturalistic settings in the tradition of the
+English garden, may have encouraged a looser and less Classical sort of composition.
+In many views, Charlottenhof with its dominating Greek Doric portico, remodelled
+from 1826 on as the residence of the Crown Prince, may appear a sufficiently conventional
+Greek Revival country house. But if one considers the planning of the house and
+its close relation to the raised terrace, and also the relation to the solid block of the open
+pergola—’an object of nature’ in Durand’s special sense—one sees that here, as earlier at
+the Zivilcasino, but from no necessity enforced by the site, Schinkel sought to apply the
+most stringent sort of geometrical order to an asymmetrical composition. For this, of
+course, the Erechtheum and to some extent the Propylaea on the Akropolis, those two
+fifth-century Greek examples of Romantic Classicism, provided precedents. At Schloss
+Glienecke near by, also begun in 1826 for another Prussian prince, Karl, whose palace in
+Berlin he was remodelling too, the Athenian derivation is very patent in the later belvedere
+of 1837 based on the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates. But it is the asymmetrical
+massing of carefully organized elements here that reveals the extent to which Schinkel
+was able to absorb and actually to synthesize with the discipline of Romantic Classicism
+one of the major formal innovations of the Picturesque. The bold off-centre location of
+the tower actually makes of this a sort of Italian Villa in the Cronkhill sense.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the enlargement of the medieval Kolberg Town Hall in Pomerania, begun in 1829,
+Schinkel employed secular Late Gothic in a version as stiff and mechanical as that of
+Gärtner’s Wittelsbach Palace a decade later. A remarkable centrally-planned Hunting
+Lodge, built for Prince Radziwill at Ostrowo in 1827, on the other hand, illustrated a
+bold attempt to apply the principles of Durandesque structural rationalism to building
+in timber; the result is very different indeed from the contemporary American, Russian,
+and Swedish houses of wood that were designed as copies of marble temples.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1828 a series of designs for churches in the new suburbs of Berlin, several of them
+executed in reduced form in the early thirties, showed a drastic shift away from Classical
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>models—still sometimes offered as alternatives and actually executed in two cases—towards
+the creation of a very personal sort of <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. All intended to be of brick
+with terracotta trim, these were less successful than the house he built of the same
+materials for the brick and terracotta manufacturer Feilner in Berlin in 1829. In its perfect
+regularity and rigid trabeation this recalled the rear of the Museum (Figure <a href='#i034'>7</a>). But
+the employment of delicate arabesque reliefs in the jambs of the openings, quite in the
+<i>quattrocento</i> way, illustrated rather more agreeably than the church projects the characteristic
+modulation in these years away from Grecian and towards Italianate models.</p>
+
+<div id='i034'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i034.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 7. Karl Friedrich von Schinkel: Berlin, Feilner House, 1829, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The happiest and most informal example of this modulation is to be seen in the Court
+Gardener’s House on the Charlottenhof estate of 1829-31 (Plate <a href='#pl014a'>14<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The closely
+associated Tea House and Roman Bath of 1833-4 loosely enclose the square rear garden
+at the junction of two canals. As the plan of the house itself clearly reveals, this was not a
+new construction but a remodelling, or encasing, of an earlier gardener’s house; but
+more important to the total effect than the original solid block is the skilful disposition
+of the clearly defined voids in the three-dimensional composition, voids which include
+pergolas of varying height, loggias, and even an open attic below the main roof.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the one hand, the inspiration for this must have come from Durand’s illustrations
+of the ‘employment of the objects of nature’ or perhaps from other French works<a id="r51"></a><a href='#f51' class='c025'><sup>[51]</sup></a>
+more specifically dealing with Italian buildings in the countryside. On the other hand,
+rather more than most English Italian Villas in the line of Nash’s Cronkhill, this seems
+to be based on some real knowledge of Italian rural, not to say rustic, building. But
+visually, as at Cronkhill and at Glienecke, the pivot of the whole composition is the
+tower around which the various elements, solid and hollow, are as carefully organized
+as in a piece of twentieth-century Neoplasticist sculpture. This Gardener’s House is as
+much the international masterwork of the asymmetrically-towered Italian Villa mode,
+one of the more modest yet extremely significant innovations of the first half of the
+nineteenth century, as is the Altes Museum of formal Grecian Classicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>At Potsdam and near by Schinkel’s pupil Persius, before his untimely death only four
+years after Schinkel’s, produced many other compositions of this order, often by remodelling
+eighteenth-century buildings.<a id="r52"></a><a href='#f52' class='c025'><sup>[52]</sup></a> Two of the finest are the Pheasantry, which
+is specifically a towered Italian Villa, and the group that includes the Friedenskirche,
+carried out by others from Persius’s designs in 1845-8 (Plate <a href='#pl015'>15</a>). In this latter group the
+principal feature is a close copy of an Early Christian basilica, even to the inclusion of a
+real medieval apse mosaic brought from Murano; yet compositionally the group is
+a masterpiece of the classically ordered Picturesque, rivalling Schinkel’s Gardener’s
+House in subtlety and elegance. Even more personal to Persius is the delicacy of detailing
+and the unusual external arcade of his earlier Heilandskirche of 1841-3, with its graceful
+detached campanile, by the lakeside at nearby Sakrow.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Also notable are his steam-engine houses, particularly that for Schloss Babelsberg.
+The inclusion of medieval and even Islamic detail indicates the increasing eclecticism of
+taste around 1840; yet the disparate elements are so scaled and ordered as to compose
+into an asymmetrical pattern of Italian Villa character in which the minaret-like chimney
+provides the dominant vertical accent. Less Picturesque is the Orangerieschloss, based on
+a sketch by Frederick William IV and executed after Persius’s death by A. Hesse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Schinkel’s big Potsdam church, the Nikolaikirche, designed in 1829 and built up to
+the base of the dome in the years 1830-7, stood right in the town, not in the park like his
+work for the princes, and is a wholly formal monument. It was planned as a hemisphere
+above a cube in the most geometrical mode of Romantic Classicism. As in the case of
+Soufflot’s dome of the Panthéon, this was undoubtedly influenced by Wren’s St Paul’s
+in London which Schinkel had seen on an English voyage in 1826. Unfortunately Persius
+had later to add corner towers, almost like the minaret chimney of his Babelsberg
+engine house, in order to load the pendentives when he completed the church in 1842-50.
+These irrelevant features quite denature Schinkel’s formal intention. The interior, however,
+is superior to those in most of the centrally planned churches of this period
+in various countries that were based on the Roman Pantheon.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Schinkel did not have such opportunities of building whole squares and streets as did
+his Baden and his Bavarian contemporaries. For all his efforts, the Berlin Lustgarten
+was probably never very satisfactory urbanistically because of the inadequate focus that
+was provided by his modest cathedral beside the massive Baroque Schloss and the awkward
+shift in the axis where the Schlossbrücke enters from Unter den Linden. At the
+other end of Unter den Linden the Pariser Platz inside K. G. Langhans’s Brandenburg
+Gate shows little evidence of Schinkel’s intended regularization of the surrounding buildings.
+All that he was actually able to carry out there was the Palais Redern of 1832-3 (in
+fact a remodelling), and this was demolished in 1906 to make way for the Adlon Hotel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The façades of the Palais Redern gave a <i>quattrocento</i> Florentine impression because of
+their relatively bold over-all rustication; only the large openings were arcuated, however,
+the ordinary windows being lintel-topped. Significant of Schinkel’s new interest
+in asymmetrical order was the disposition of the four arched openings; these were
+balanced in relation to the corner of Unter den Linden but unbalanced in relation to
+either façade alone; the other windows were quite regularly spaced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>If Schinkel seems to have adopted here a version of the Renaissance Revival—as, for
+that matter, he had already done much earlier in his somewhat similar remodelling of
+the Berlin City Hall in 1817—at the Neue Tor, also of 1832, he provided two gatehouses
+which were in a sort of <i>Rundbogenstil</i> Tudor comparable to Gärtner’s Wittelsbach Palace
+of fifteen years later. His trip to England<a id="r53"></a><a href='#f53' class='c025'><sup>[53]</sup></a> had fascinated him with English architecture,
+old and new; there he had noted everything with intelligent interest—from medieval
+castles to the towering new cotton mills near Manchester with their internal skeletons of
+iron. He had no occasion, however, to make large-scale use of iron construction,
+though there is little doubt that had he lived on through the forties he would have done
+so with both technical and aesthetic mastery.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Schloss Babelsberg,<a id="r54"></a><a href='#f54' class='c025'><sup>[54]</sup></a> built for the rather tasteless brother of his own particular
+patron, later the Emperor William I, he essayed an English sort of castle, admittedly
+more in the contemporary Picturesque mode of the new Castellated Mansions of Nash
+and Wyatt than like any real medieval one. This was designed in 1834 and begun in
+1835. Persius took it over on Schinkel’s death, redesigning one of the principal towers,
+and it was finally finished after Persius’s death by Heinrich Strack (1805-80) in 1849.
+Though certainly not inferior to Smirke’s Eastnor or Cundy’s Hawarden, if without
+the lovely site and the richly organic composition of Busby’s Gwrych, Babelsberg is
+better appreciated in Schinkel’s or Persius’s drawings than in actuality. Schloss Kamenz,
+a rather Tudoresque remodelling of an earlier structure which Schinkel undertook in
+1838, is more typical but no more successful.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although playing but a very minor part in Schinkel’s own production, his exercises
+in the Chalet mode should at least be mentioned. Not only do these illustrate the very
+wide range of his own eclectic inspiration, considerably wider than that of Durand and
+the French of the previous generation, they also represent one of the peripheral aspects
+of his achievement which his pupils, and German architects of the mid century generally,
+delighted to exploit. The happiest work of his followers, however, continued
+rather the Italian Villa line of Glienecke and the Court Gardener’s House, a line in
+which Persius at least all but equalled his master.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Grecian work of Schinkel’s imitators and emulators tended to be overdecorated
+and lacking in geometrical order while their <i>Rundbogenstil</i> is in general awkwardly proportioned
+and incoherently ornamented (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>). Outside Prussia, such Hamburg
+architects as Wimmel &amp; Forsmann and de Chateauneuf illustrate better than
+other North Germans the real possibilities of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. De Chateauneuf had
+something of an international reputation, moreover, after winning the second prize in
+the competition held in 1839-40 for the Royal Exchange in London. His design for that
+was based on the Loggia dei Lanzi, and may well have provided the suggestion for
+Gärtner’s Feldherrenhalle in Munich begun the next year.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is impossible and unnecessary to follow Romantic Classicism to all the other German
+centres. At Darmstadt the Classical Ludwigskirche of 1822-7 by Georg Moller
+(1784-1852),<a id="r55"></a><a href='#f55' class='c025'><sup>[55]</sup></a> a pupil of Weinbrenner, is a handsome circular edifice with an internal
+colonnade below the dome. Thus it is rather like the ‘central space’ in Schinkel’s
+Museum, but more broadly proportioned. A boldly arched entrance of almost Ledolcian
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>character is set against the external circumference of blank wall rather than the more
+usual temple portico. The Artillery Barracks at Darmstadt of 1825-7 by Moller’s pupil
+Franz Heger (1792-1836) provided a notably early example of the  <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. Comparable
+was August Busse’s Castellated Zellengefängnis in Berlin of 1842-9, the first
+German example of a penitentiary radially planned and with individual cells (see
+Chapter 5). Stüler’s destroyed Trinitatiskirche in Cologne, a Persius-like Early Christian
+basilica completed in 1860, was much finer than his Berlin churches (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Also <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, but of a more medievalizing order, was Semper’s Synagogue of
+1838-41 in Dresden. Its centralized massing is uncharacteristically plastic. His Palais
+Oppenheim there of 1845-8 at 9-11 An der Bürgerwiese, based on Raphael’s Pandolfini
+Palace, was a handsome and very ‘correct’ example of the international Renaissance
+Revival to be compared, like de Meuron’s house in Hamburg, with Barry’s London
+clubhouses. The Cholera Fountain of 1843 in Dresden was Gothic, however, providing
+further evidence of Semper’s rather directionless eclecticism at this time.</p>
+
+<div id='i037'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i037.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 8. Gottfried Semper: Dresden, Opera House (first), 1837-41, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>His principal works of this period were the first Opera House<a id="r56"></a><a href='#f56' class='c025'><sup>[56]</sup></a> in Dresden of 1837-41,
+where Wagner’s early triumphs took place, burnt and rebuilt by Semper later, and
+the nearby Art Gallery of 1847-54 which completed so unhappily the circuit of the
+marvellous Rococo Zwinger by Daniel Pöppelmann. The one was a rather festive, the
+other a rather solemn example of the Renaissance Revival; both are more notable for
+their planning and their general organization than for any visual distinction (Figure <a href='#i037'>8</a>).
+The Opera House in Hanover, built by G. L. F. Laves (1789-1864) in 1845-52, is less
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>original in plan but more sober, even a bit Schinkelesque, in design (Plate <a href='#pl014b'>14<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Its interior
+has been completely done over since it was bombed in the Second World War.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The historian tends always to press forward, forcing rather than retarding the pace of
+development in his written account. Klenze’s Propylaeon, however, has already provided
+evidence of the late continuance of Grecian ideals in the German States; in Stuttgart
+the Königsbau of 1857-60 by C. F. Leins (1814-92), a pupil in Paris of Henri
+Labrouste, provides a worthier example, although this was actually begun twenty years
+earlier by J. M. Knapp (1793-1861). In Vienna, as late as 1873, the Parliament House of
+Theophil von Hansen (1813-91) provides a gargantuan example of what the French had
+first aspired to build almost a century earlier. Ambiguous in its massing, if still very
+elegant in its Grecian detail, this contrasts markedly with Hansen’s other Viennese work
+of the third quarter of the century which is generally of High Renaissance design (see
+Chapter 8).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This Copenhagen-born and trained architect knew Greece at first hand, for he and his
+brother H. C. Hansen (1803-83) worked in Athens for some years for the Wittelsbachs
+and the Danish dynasty that succeeded them. Along University Street in Athens a conspicuous
+range of porticoed structures is theirs. The University, built in 1837-42, is by
+the elder brother; the Academy, built in 1859-87, was designed by Theophil and executed
+by his pupil Ernst Ziller; the National Library was also designed by Theophil in
+1860 and completed in 1892. Conventional essays in the international Greek Revival
+mode, here made somewhat ironical by their proximity to the great fifth-century ruins,
+these lack the elegance and refinement of Theophil’s Palais Dimitriou of 1842-3 (lately
+destroyed by the enlargement of the Grande Bretagne Hotel towards Syndagma Square)
+as also the more than Schinkelesque restraint of the earliest Romantic Classical building
+in Greece. This is Gärtner’s gaunt but distinguished Old Palace,<a id="r57"></a><a href='#f57' class='c025'><sup>[57]</sup></a> designed in 1835-6 for
+Otho of Wittelsbach immediately after his assumption of the Greek throne and built in
+1837-41 (Plate <a href='#pl017a'>17<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Old Palace and its neighbour the Grande Bretagne still dominate the centre of
+modern Athens. The palace, in its regularity, its austerity, and its geometrical clarity of
+design, is a finer archetype of the most rigid Romantic Classical ideals than anything
+Gärtner built in Munich; indeed, perhaps those ideals were nowhere else ever followed
+so drastically at monumental scale except in Denmark. One may even wonder irreverently
+if the fifth century had many civil buildings that were so pure and so calm!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gärtner and the Hansens set the pace for a local Greek Revival vernacular of a rather
+North European order. In its detail this vernacular sometimes exceeds in delicacy that
+of the later centuries of antiquity, as illustrated here in the Stoa of Attalos in the
+Agora—at least as that has lately been reconstructed—or the Arch of Hadrian. Not all of
+the new construction was Grecian, however: Klenze’s Roman Catholic Cathedral (Aghios
+Dionysios) in University Street is a basilica with Renaissance detail, built in 1854-63;
+the modest English Church of 1840-3 is rather feebly Gothic and reputedly based on a
+design provided by C. R. Cockerell that was much modified in execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of the leading Greek architects of the period, Lyssander Kaftanzoglou (1812-85),
+Stamathios Kleanthis (1802-62), and Panajiotis Kalkos (1800?-1870?), only Kleanthis
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>was German-trained. This talented pupil of Schinkel followed his master’s Italianate
+rather than his Grecian line, and the house he built in 1840 for the Duchesse de Plaisance
+on Kiffisia Avenue (now the Byzantine Museum) is a distinguished example of a
+Durandesque Italian villa, with simple arcading front and rear and low corner towers.
+Kaftanzoglou, trained at the École de Beaux-Arts in Paris and in Milan, was somewhat
+less able; but the large quadrangular Grecian structure that he designed in the fifties and
+built in 1862-80 to house the Polytechneion in Patissia Street more than rivals the
+academic buildings by the Hansens in University Street in the careful ordering of its
+parts and the correct elegance of its details. Of Kalkos’s work little remains in good
+condition today.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The new capital of remote Greece possesses more, and on the whole more impressive,
+Romantic Classical buildings than do Vienna and Budapest, capitals of the Austro-Hungarian
+Empire. In them ambitious urbanistic projects were initiated only later after
+the accession of Francis Joseph in 1848. The Theseus Temple in the Volksgarten in Vienna
+of 1821-3 by Peter von Nobile (1774-1854),<a id="r58"></a><a href='#f58' class='c025'><sup>[58]</sup></a> a Swiss who had made his reputation
+in Trieste, is hardly more than a large Grecian garden ornament conscientiously copying
+the fifth-century Hephaisteion in Athens line for line. His nearby Burgtor, begun the
+following year, is much worthier in its heavy, almost Sanmichelian, way. More characteristic,
+however, is the work of Joseph Kornhäusel (1782-1860) and of Paul Sprenger
+(1798-1854).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Kornhäusel’s Schottenhof, opening off the Schottengasse, is a housing development
+built in 1826-32 in collaboration with Joseph Adelpodinger (1778-1849). This is of
+extraordinary extent and arranged very regularly around several large internal courts.
+The smooth stucco walls, restricted ornamentation, and regular fenestration, brought
+out to the wall surface by double windows, can be matched in many streets of the city
+that were built up in these decades. Behind such a façade in the Seitenstettengasse lies
+Kornhäusel’s elegant but rather modest Synagogue of 1825-6. This has an elliptical
+dome and an internal colonnade that carries a narrow gallery. Much richer is his rectangular
+main hall of 1823-4 in the Albertina; as has been noted, this palace had already
+been enlarged in 1801-4 in Romantic Classical style by Montoyer. Kornhäusel’s hall is
+finished in mirror and in pale yellow and pale mauve scagliola with chalk-white
+Grecian details and sandstone statues of the Muses by J. Klieber.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With Kornhäusel all is classical; Sprenger, on the other hand, employed a rather tight
+version of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, more Renaissance than medievalizing, for his considerably
+later Mint of 1835-7 in the Heumarkt in Vienna. More original, and with charming
+arched window-frames of terracotta in delicate floral bands, is his Landeshauptmannschaft
+of 1846-8 at 11 Herrengasse. This contrasts happily with the Diet of Lower
+Austria, projected in 1832-3 and built in 1837-44 by Luigi Pichl (1782-1856), next door
+at No. 13, a rather heavy and conventional example of Romantic Classicism; so also
+does No. 17, a very simple block originally built by Moreau for the Austro-Hungarian
+Bank in 1821-3. The later bank building across the Herrengasse at No. 14, built by
+Heinrich von Ferstel (1828-83) in 1856-60, well illustrates the modulation of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>
+here, as in Germany, towards richer and more Gothicizing forms after the mid
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>century. The glass-roofed passage extending through this to the Freyung is still very
+attractive, despite its shabby condition, and worthy of comparison with other extant
+examples of passages elsewhere in the Old and New Worlds
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch03'>3</a>, <a href='#ch05'>5</a>, and <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The great nineteenth-century Viennese building campaign of Francis Joseph began in
+1849 with the initiation of the Arsenal. There the outer ranges (now mostly destroyed
+by bombing) were completed in 1855 from designs by Edward Van der Nüll (1812-65),
+a pupil of Nobile and Sprenger, and his partner August Siccard von Siccardsburg (1813-68).
+The Army Museum of 1850-6 is by Ludwig Foerster (1797-1863) and Theophil
+von Hansen (who had married Forster’s daughter after moving from Athens to Vienna),
+and the chapel of 1853-5 is by Karl Rosner (1804-59). These are all in slightly varying
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i> modes, and they show, like Ferstel’s bank, the changed taste of the mid
+century, most notably in their rather violent brick polychromy (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Budapest the National Museum of 1837-44 by Michael Pollák (1773-1855) is
+a vast rectangle fronted in the conventional way by an octostyle Corinthian portico
+and with a somewhat Schinkel-like severity of treatment on the side wings. This is
+another major example of the museums which were such characteristic monuments of
+Romantic Classicism everywhere. Among many other large and typical public monuments
+designed by Pollák, the Kommitat Building may be mentioned as of comparable
+size and dignity to his museum.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If first Greece and then Austria employed Danish Hansens in the forties and fifties, the
+earlier Romantic Classical tradition of C. F. Hansen, who in any case lived on until
+1845, was still better maintained at home by his pupil M. G. B. Bindesbøll (1800-56).
+Where C. F. Hansen’s inspiration was Roman and Parisian, Bindesbøll’s seems rather
+to have been German, as was common in his generation. Certainly his masterpiece,
+again a museum and indeed a museum of sculpture, out-Schinkels Schinkel. The
+Thorvaldsens Museum<a id="r59"></a><a href='#f59' class='c025'><sup>[59]</sup></a> in Copenhagen was built in 1839-48 to house the sculpture
+and the collections of the thoroughly Romanized Bertil Thorwaldsen, which he had
+determined in 1837 to present to his native country. The mode, of course, is Greek but
+completely astylar like the rear of Schinkel’s Berlin Museum; the general impression,
+particularly of the court with Thorvaldsen’s tomb in its centre, is surprisingly Egyptian
+(Plate <a href='#pl016b'>16<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The mathematical severity of the architectural design is warmed by the
+murals on the walls, once largely washed away but now all renewed; they romanticize
+thoroughly its rigid geometrical forms. Even the purely architectural elements, moreover,
+were once polychromed, if the present restoration of the colour is correct.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The murals on the exterior of the museum were designed in 1847-8 and executed in
+1850 by Jørgen Sonne in a sort of coloured plaster intarsia with heavy black outlines.
+Developing a happy idea of Bindesbøll’s, these tell rather realistically the story of the
+transport of the sculpture from Rome to Copenhagen. The foliate work on the court
+walls was carried out by H. C. From in 1844—laurel-trees, oaks, and palms. In the
+interiors, where Thorwaldsen disposed his own sculptures somewhat less formally than
+he had the Aegina sculptures in the Munich Glyptothek, the intricate and brightly
+coloured decoration of the barrel vaults is in that Pompeian mode which had been a part
+of the Romantic Classical tradition ever since the time of Clérisseau and Adam. This
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>provides a happy contrast to so much Neo-Classic white marble statuary set against
+plain walls painted in strong flat colours. The finest of these ceilings have no modern
+rivals, even in Adam’s eighteenth-century work, for the precise geometrical organization
+of the panels and the delicate refinement of the very low plaster reliefs. Bolder and
+wholly abstract are the floors of tile mosaic arranged in a bewildering variety of patterns,
+some imitated from Roman models but more of them so original in design that they
+suggest ‘hardedge’ paintings of the 1960s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In his few other executed works and projects Bindesbøll showed himself considerably
+less Classical and Schinkelesque than in this museum; perhaps the museum reflects Thorvaldsen’s
+taste as much or more than his own. Tending, like other Danes of his generation,
+towards the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> in his urban buildings, for his country houses he arrived
+at a very direct and logical rural mode in which rustic materials and asymmetrical compositions
+were controlled by a Romantic Classical sense of order and decorum. If, on
+the one hand, his interest in bold structural polychromy in the fifties parallels that of the
+English Butterfield, his domestic mode forecasts that of the English Webb
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch10'>10</a> and <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). Bindesbøll’s production was small indeed,
+but at least the very simple
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i> Agricultural School of 1856-8 at 13 Bulowsvej in Copenhagen, executed
+after his death, deserves specific mention here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>J. D. Herholdt (1818-1902), living almost half a century longer than Bindesbøll, was
+naturally more productive. He was also a master of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> hardly rivalled in
+his generation even by the ablest Germans. Late as is his National Bank at 17 Holmens
+Kanal in Copenhagen—1866-70—this is one of the finest examples anywhere of the
+more Tuscan sort of <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. His University Library of 1857-61 in the Frue Plads
+is less suave in design but much more original in its brick detailing. As late as the eighties
+he maintained the Romantic Classical discipline in his Italian Gothic Raadhus at Odense
+of 1880-3 as well as carrying out many tactful restorations of Romanesque churches. Of
+his fine Copenhagen Station of 1863-4 the wooden shed now serves on another site as
+a sports hall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>G. F. Hetsch (1830-1903) also continued the Romantic Classical line, most happily
+perhaps in his Sankt Ansgarskirke of 1841-2, the Roman Catholic church in the Bredgade
+in Copenhagen. Ferdinand Meldahl (1827-1908), although capable of very disciplined
+Early Renaissance design in his office building at 23 Havnegade in Copenhagen
+of 1864, led Danish architecture away from Romantic Classicism and the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>
+towards a rather Second Empire sort of eclecticism after he became professor at the
+Copenhagen Academy in 1864 and its director in 1873 (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With its great individual monuments by C. F. Hansen and Bindesbøll and its streets
+of fine houses in the Romantic Classical vernacular, Copenhagen provides today a more
+attractive picture of the production of this period than almost any other city. Norway,
+at this time less prosperous than Denmark, has work by Schinkel himself. At least the
+designs for the buildings of the University at Christiania, erected in 1841-51 by C. H.
+Grosch (1801-65), a pupil of C. F. Hansen and of Hetsch, were revised by Schinkel just
+before his death, and the handling of the walls is certainly quite characteristic of his
+work in the clarity and logic of their articulation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>In Sweden, where the dominant influences in the early nineteenth century were first
+French and then German as in Denmark, there was no comparably brilliant development
+of Romantic Classicism. Rosendal, a country house built in 1823-5 by Fredrik
+Blom (1781-1851), is a pleasant and very discreet edifice that might well be by almost
+any French architect of Blom’s generation. His Skeppsholm Church in Stockholm of
+1824-42, circular within and octagonal without, is a typical but not especially distinguished
+work of its period. More characteristic are the modest wooden houses with
+Grecian detail. These are similar to, but in their naive ‘correctness’ less extreme than,
+the temple houses of Russia and the United States. Their board-and-batten walls might,
+paradoxically, have inspired one aspect of Downing’s anti-Grecian campaign in
+America in the forties (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1850 Stüler was called to Stockholm from Berlin to design the National Museum.
+Eventually completed in 1865, this is in a richer Venetian Renaissance mode than he
+usually employed at home. Such more definitely Romantic modes were generally exploited
+by native architects only much later. For example, the Sodra Theatre of 1858-9
+in Stockholm by J. F. Åbom (1817-1900) is still quite a restrained example of the
+revived High Renaissance; while so excellent a specimen of the more Tuscan sort of
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i> as the Skandias Building in Stockholm by P. M. R. Isaeus (1841-90) and
+C. Sundahl dates from 1886-9, but must be compared with German work of at least a
+generation earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Holland has even less of distinction to offer in this period than Sweden.<a id="r60"></a><a href='#f60' class='c025'><sup>[60]</sup></a> Yet the
+Lutheran Round Church on the Singel in Amsterdam, as it was rebuilt after a fire in
+1826 by Jan de Greef (1784-1834) and T. F. Suys (1783-1861), a pupil of Percier, lends
+a distinctly Venetian air to the local scene with its great dome, despite the admirably
+Dutch quality of its fine brickwork. The original church was built in 1668-77 by
+Adriaen Dortsmann, and doubtless the peculiar plan, with main entrance under the
+pulpit and double galleries at the rear outside the main rotunda, derives from the older
+building.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The monumentally Classical Haarlemer Poort of 1840 in Amsterdam by J. D. Zocher
+(1790-1870) may also be mentioned, as it is nearly unique in Holland. This has the
+stuccoed walls that, in Holland as elsewhere, generally replaced exposed brickwork
+under the influence of international Romantic Classicism. The Academy of Fine Arts in
+The Hague, built by Z. Reijers in 1839 and demolished in 1933, dominated by an Ionic
+portico of stone, might well have risen in any French provincial city of the day. Very
+similar, except that the portico is Corinthian, is the Palace of Justice in Leeuwarden built
+in 1846-52 by T. A. Romein (1811-81). Handsome also, but like the Hague Academy
+less autochthonous in character than the Round Church, is the long stone façade beside
+the Rokin of the Nederlandsche Bank in the Turfmarkt (1860) by Willem Anthony
+Froger. On the whole, Holland is the exception that proves the rule. Almost alone in
+Northern Europe Dutch architects failed, in general, to accept Romantic Classicism as
+it was adumbrated most notably in the treatise of Durand; while local conditions, in any
+case, reduced monumental architectural production to a minimum in the decades
+between Waterloo and the mid century.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>
+  <h2 id='ch03' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 3</span><br />FRANCE AND THE REST OF THE CONTINENT</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Before</span> considering English architecture in the years between Waterloo and the Great
+Exhibition, it will be well to turn to that of France. The drama of the supersession of a
+supposedly purely Classical school in painting by a purely Romantic one, the contrast
+between such giants as Ingres on the one hand and Delacroix on the other, cannot be
+matched in the tame course of French architecture in this period; only very rarely was
+the accomplishment of these great painters or of half a dozen others, ranging from
+Géricault and Bonington to Corot and Daumier, equalled in quality by a Henri Labrouste
+or a Duban. Although the art of Ingres is in many ways parallel to Romantic Classicism
+in architecture, no French architect of this generation really approaches him at all closely
+in stature, although he numbered several among his close friends. Still less is there among
+architects any rebellious Romantic of the distinction of Delacroix or any ‘independent’
+comparable to Corot.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The Empire left a vast heritage of unfinished monuments. It is properly to the credit
+of the July Monarchy of Louis Philippe that these were brought to completion a generation
+after their initiation; but all the credit for them has in fact generally accrued to
+Napoleon himself. The intervening Restoration of the returned Bourbons, tired,
+reactionary and bigoted, gave its support largely to the construction of religious buildings.
+Appropriately, the first important new commission under Louis XVIII was for the
+Chapelle Expiatoire in memory of his brother Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. This
+chapel with its raised tomb-flanked forecourt, lying between the Rue Pasquier and the
+Rue d’Anjou off the Boulevard Haussmann, was begun in 1816 and completed in 1824
+(Plate <a href='#pl018a'>18<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Somewhat less appropriately, it was Napoleon’s favourite architect Fontaine—his
+partner Percier had by this time retired—who received the commission. But
+the character of the project and of the regime led him to modulate his earlier imperial
+style from the festive and the triumphal towards the solemn and the funereal. Not an
+unworthy example of Romantic Classicism, this nevertheless lacks the crispness and
+clarity of the best contemporary German work. Nor does it much recall—as it well
+might have done—either the delicacy of the <i>style Louis XVI</i> or the ‘Sublime’ grandeur
+of the many projects for monumental cenotaphs designed by the previous generation of
+architects and by those of Fontaine’s own generation in their youth.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To restore the strength of the church, as the piety of the later Bourbons demanded,
+priests had to be trained in quantity. The next significant work undertaken in Paris
+after the Chapelle Expiatoire was the Séminaire Saint-Sulpice in the Place St Sulpice by
+É.-H. Godde (1781-1869); this was begun in 1820 and completed in 1838. So flat and
+cold are its façades that the observer may readily fail to note that the design somewhat
+approaches, perhaps unconsciously, the <i>quattrocento</i> Florentine. However, it quite lacks
+the archaeological character of Klenze’s Königsbau in Munich, designed only a few years
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>later, or the vigour and assurance of Wimmel &amp; Forsmann’s Johanneum in Hamburg.
+In fact, of course, it derives almost directly from Durand and not from any careful study
+of Grandjean de Montigny’s <i>Architecture toscane</i>. Somewhat more definitely Early Renaissance
+in detail are the Baths at Mont d’Or, built by L.-C.-F. Ledru (1771-1861), a
+pupil of Durand, in 1822, and the Barracks in the Rue Mouffetard in Paris as extended
+in 1827 by Charles Rohault de Fleury (1801-75). Both exploit a rusticated Tuscan
+mode somewhat as Klenze was doing in Munich, but much less archaeologically.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shortly after the Séminaire, Godde undertook several Paris churches. Saint-Pierre-du-Gros-Caillou
+in the Rue St Dominique of 1822-3 replaced a church destroyed in the
+Revolution. Finer and considerably larger is Saint-Denis-du-Saint-Sacrament in the Rue
+de Turenne, built in 1823-35. Both are barrel-vaulted basilicas in the tradition of
+Chalgrin’s Saint-Philippe-du-Roule; the latter is rather elegant in its dry severity, the
+former confused by various later additions behind the altar. Notre-Dame-de-Bonne-Nouvelle
+of 1823-30 is smaller and more modest, as are also two nearly contemporary
+Paris churches by A.-I. Molinos (1795-1850), Saint-Jean-Baptiste in Neuilly of 1827-31
+and Sainte-Marie-des-Batignolles in the Place du Dr Félix Lobligeois in Paris of 1828-9.
+All these churches lack externally the Grecian grandeur of scale of the London churches
+of the period built by the Inwoods and others (see Chapter <a href='#ch04'>4</a>), but the basilican plan
+provides interiors that are considerably more interesting than the galleried halls with
+which most English architects were satisfied at this time. Of course, such a highly
+original interior as that of Soane’s St Peter’s, Walworth, of 1822 is in a different class
+altogether.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A much larger and more prominent church than any of Godde’s or Molinos’s is Notre-Dame-de-Lorette
+in the Rue de Chateaudun, one of the few really distinguished products
+of this dull period. It was the result of a competition held in 1822 which was won
+by Lebas, Brongniart’s collaborator on the Bourse (Plate <a href='#pl018b'>18<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This five-aisled edifice
+was built at very great expense in 1823-36 and sumptuously decorated with murals that
+added as much as a sixth to the total cost. The basic model is again the Early Christian
+basilica but here interpreted in thoroughly Classical terms, with a tall temple portico
+rivalling those of London at the front and no vaults or arches except at the east end.
+Evidence of a certain eclecticism is the rich coffering of the ceiling in panels alternately
+square and cruciform; so also is the introduction of a domed chancel before the
+apse. Both features are certainly of <i>cinquecento</i> inspiration.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To modern eyes, attuned to the late fifth-and sixth-century basilicas of Ravenna,
+Notre-Dame-de-Lorette certainly has a far less Early Christian air than Ziebland’s
+Bonifazius Basilika in Munich of the next decade; but doubtless the great Imperial
+basilicas of Rome of the fourth and early fifth centuries, notably Santa Maria Maggiore
+with its trabeated nave colonnade, were originally something like it. In any case, Lebas’s
+church is a highly typical monument of Romantic Classicism and a major one. In
+France, as elsewhere, the accepted range of precedent now extended well beyond Greek
+and Roman antiquity to include Italian models of fifth- and of sixteenth-century date, if
+very little from the centuries between. Even before the construction of Notre-Dame-de-Lorette,
+the Belgian-born P.-J. Sandrié and Jacob Silveyra (1785-?) in building a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>big Parisian synagogue in the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Nazareth in 1819-20 had also followed
+rather closely the basilican formula.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most important Parisian church of the second quarter of the century, Saint-Vincent-de-Paul
+off the Rue Lafayette, is also a five-aisled classical basilica (Plate <a href='#pl019'>19</a>).
+This was begun in 1824 by Lepère, but work was soon suspended. When it was carried
+to completion in 1831-44 Lepère’s son-in-law J.-I. Hittorff (1792-1867) took over, and he
+has generally received credit for the whole job. In utilizing a rising site, which required
+terraces and flights of steps in front, and in providing two towers, Lepère and Hittorff
+gave their church more prominence and a richer, if rather clumsily organized, three-dimensional
+interest.<a id="r61"></a><a href='#f61' class='c025'><sup>[61]</sup></a> Hittorff’s archaeological studies in Sicily had made him an enthusiast
+for architectural polychromy, and to contemporaries the great novelty about
+Saint-Vincent-de-Paul was the proposal to use enamelled lava plaques on the exterior.<a id="r62"></a><a href='#f62' class='c025'><sup>[62]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The French did not, like the Germans, turn to the use of tawny brick and terracotta in
+the second quarter of the century; but the interest of Hittorff and his generation
+in applied polychromy relates their work a little to that of the Romantic colourists in
+painting.<a id="r63"></a><a href='#f63' class='c025'><sup>[63]</sup></a> Unfortunately almost none of this polychromy remains visible now; and so
+the shift away from the monochromy that is characteristic everywhere of Romantic
+Classicism down to this period is less evident in France than in other countries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Especially fine is the open timber roof of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, although in fact
+only a part of the actual construction is exposed; while the fact that the colonnaded
+apse is wide enough to include the inner aisles as well as the nave gives a quite unprecedented
+spatial interest to the east end. Moreover, in this interior Hittorff achieved a
+rich warmth of tone quite different from the coldness of Godde’s and Molinos’s churches
+of the twenties. His Cirque des Champs Élysées of 1839-41 and Cirque d’Hiver of 1852
+were even more brilliantly polychromatic both inside and out. But the most conspicuous
+extant works of Hittorff, the Gare du Nord of 1861-5, the Second Empire façades
+surrounding the Place de l’Étoile, and the decoration of the Place de la Concorde and
+the Champs Élysées with fountains and other features under the July Monarchy, provide
+today little evidence<a id="r64"></a><a href='#f64' class='c025'><sup>[64]</sup></a> of this aspect of his talent once so notable to contemporaries
+at home and abroad.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Especially happy is the siting of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul on the upper side of the new
+polygonal Place Charles X (now Place Lafayette), of which the other sides were filled in
+the twenties with consonant houses by A.-F.-R. Leclerc (1785-1853),<a id="r65"></a><a href='#f65' class='c025'><sup>[65]</sup></a> a pupil of both
+Durand and Percier, and A.-J. Pellechet (1789-1871). Less characteristic of Romantic
+Classical urbanism than the squares and streets of Karlsruhe and Munich, this nevertheless
+well illustrates the dignity and the regularity of the houses then rising in the new
+quarters of Paris. The very considerable new quarter in Mulhouse, which was laid out
+and built up in 1826-8 by J.-G. Stotz (1799-?), a pupil of Leclerc, and A.-J.-F. Fries
+(1800-59), a pupil of Huyot, is more properly comparable with Karlsruhe.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most of the new churches in the suburbs of Paris and the French provinces followed
+basilican models. The parish church of Saint-Germain-en-Laye, which was brought at
+last to completion in 1823-7 by A.-J. Malpièce (1789-1864) and his partner A.-J. Moutier
+(1791-1874), a pupil of Percier, following the original designs of M.-M. Potain (1713-96)
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>of the 1760s, is much more modest and somewhat less Roman. In Marseilles the
+younger M.-R. Penchaud (1772-1832), who designed in 1812 and built in 1827-32
+the Palais de Justice at Aix on Ledoux’s earlier foundations, erected in 1824 a large
+Roman basilica for the local Protestants, doubtless with some conscious reference
+to Salomon de Brosse’s seventeenth-century Protestant Temple at Charenton of two
+hundred years earlier. By exception, however, the Protestant Temple at Orléans by
+F.-N. Pagot (1780-1844), a pupil of Labarre, which was built in 1836, is a plain cylinder
+in plan. Saint-Lazare in Marseilles, built by P.-X. Coste (1787-1879) and Vincent
+Barral (1800-54) in 1833-7, followed Notre-Dame-de-Lorette even more closely than
+does Penchaud’s Protestant church.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the more modest parish church of Vincennes outside Paris, which rose in 1826-30,
+the very last years of the Restoration, J.-B.-C. Lesueur (1794-1883) was already using a
+rather Brunelleschian sort of detail that is not without a certain cool elegance. More
+definitely of the Renaissance Revival is Saint-Jacques-Saint-Christophe, the parish church
+of La Villette in the Rue de Crimée in Paris built by P.-E. Lequeux (1806-73) much
+later, in 1841-4. It is one of half a dozen that Lequeux began in the forties, in addition to
+designing the town halls of this and several other quarters of Paris. Lequeux employed
+definitely <i>quattrocento</i> detail somewhat more lavishly than Lesueur had done at Vincennes,
+and produced at La Villette one of the most satisfactory French churches of
+the Louis Philippe epoch. In building a small Norman church at Pollet near Dieppe
+in 1844-9, Louis Lenormand (1801-62), a pupil of his uncle Huvé, used Early Renaissance
+detail of a more French sort that may not improperly be called <i>François I.</i> Such
+detail was highly exceptional in ecclesiastical architecture even as late as the forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The housing of public services, initiated so actively by Napoleon, continued at a
+much reduced pace under Louis XVIII and Charles X. The Paris Custom House of 1827
+by L.-A. Lusson (1790-1864), a pupil of Percier, with its great arched entrance rising
+from the ground and its similar transverse arches inside, was later transformed—three
+bays of it, at least—into a Protestant church by one of Lebas’s pupils, the German-born
+F.-C. Gau (1790-1853), for Louis Philippe’s German relatives in 1843. A similar reflection
+of Durand’s utilitarian models may be seen in the vast Government Warehouse at
+Lyons, begun in 1828 by L.-P. Baltard (1764-1846), Lequeux’s master, who had worked
+when very young with Ledoux on the Paris <i>barrières</i>. This contrasts notably in its consistent
+arcuation with the belated giant Corinthian colonnade that fronts Baltard’s
+Palace of Justice there, built in 1836-42, and parallels fairly closely the contemporary
+warehouses Schinkel was building in Berlin. More characteristic of the rather mixed
+official mode of the period is the Custom House of 1835-42 at Rouen by C.-E. Isabelle
+(1800-80), a pupil of Leclerc. This is of interest chiefly for the tremendous rusticated
+arch of the entrance, which quite overpowers the rest of the <i>palazzo</i>-like façade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For educational institutions most new construction was subsidiary to existing buildings.
+At the École Polytechnique, A.-M. Renié (<i>c.</i> 1790-1855), a pupil of Percier and
+Vaudoyer, provided in 1828 a new arcuated and rusticated entrance hardly worthy of
+the school where Durand was now teaching a second generation of architects. P.-M.
+Letarouilly (1795-1855) made in 1831-42 additions that are less unworthy, but hardly
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>more interesting, to Chalgrin’s Collège de France, built originally in the 1770s. But his
+great contribution, of course, was the <i>Édifices de Rome moderne</i>—the first volume of
+which appeared in 1840. Finally completed with the publication of the third volume in
+1857, this was the bible of the later Renaissance Revival in France as of several generations
+of academic architects throughout the rest of the world. The École Normale
+Supérieure by the youngest Gisors (H.-A.-G. de, 1796-1866), a pupil of Percier, is a
+large, wholly new building of 1841-7; this looks forward to the Second Empire a little
+in its high mansard roof and seventeenth-century detailing, extremely dry and sparse
+though that is (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Private construction was for the most part very dull, whether in city, suburb, or
+country. As an example of the country houses that were built in some quantity, a typical
+project of 1830 for one by Hittorff may be illustrated (Figure <a href='#i047'>9</a>). With its careful if rather
+uninteresting proportions, its rigid rectangularity, and the stiff chains of rustication that
+provide its sole embellishment, however, this rises somewhat above the general level of
+achievement of the period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The <i>François I</i> character of the detailing of Lenormand’s Pollet church has been mentioned.
+In domestic architecture such national Renaissance precedent had rather greater
+success even if nothing very novel or original developed from it. In 1825 L.-M.-D. Biet
+(1785-1856), a pupil of Percier, brought to Paris the court façade of an early sixteenth-century
+house from Moret and applied it to a <i>hôtel particulier</i>—always called with no
+justification the ‘Maison de François I’—in a new residential area of Paris. This house
+shortly gave the name ‘François I’ to the entire quarter between the Champs Élysées
+and the Seine. The barrenness and brittleness of Biet’s own elevations were more of a
+tribute to his respect for the old work than to his creative ability.</p>
+
+<div id='i047'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i047.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 9. J.-I. Hittorff: Project for country house for Comte de W., 1830, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Within the next few years houses built by such architects as L.-T.-J. Visconti (1791-1853),
+another pupil of Percier, and Famin tended to grow ever richer. In 1835 P.-C.
+Dusillion (1804-60), an architect otherwise more active abroad than at home, used <i>François
+I</i> detail with the lushest profusion on a house at 14 Rue Vaneau. The façade rather
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>resembles an interior of the so-called <i>style troubadour</i> turned inside out. Much the
+same may be said for the block of flats built by Édouard Renaud (1808-86), a pupil of
+Leroy, at 5 Place St Georges in 1841. But this was rather an exception to the severity and
+regularity of Parisian street architecture under the Restoration. This was generally
+maintained, moreover, under the July Monarchy for blocks of flats, even by men like
+Visconti and Lesueur whose private houses were often very rich indeed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two country houses of 1840 make a more extensive and plausible use of <i>François I</i>
+features. One is the Château de St Martin, near St Paulzo in the Nièvre, built by
+Édouard Lussy (1788-1868), a pupil of Percier; this is elaborately picturesque in silhouette
+but still rigidly symmetrical. Another by J.-B.-P. Canissié (1799-1877), a pupil
+of Hittorff, at Draveil, S.-et-O., is somewhat irregular both in plan and in composition.
+But the <i>style François I</i> in the France of the second quarter of the nineteenth
+century had neither the general acceptance nor even the vitality—at that relatively low—of
+the revived ‘Jacobethan’ in contemporary England.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even where a major sixteenth-century monument had to be restored and enlarged,
+as was the case with the Hôtel de Ville of Paris, the architects Godde and Lesueur were
+at some pains to regularize and chasten the unclassical vagaries of Boccador’s original
+design (Plate <a href='#pl022a'>22<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Most of the work by Lesueur was done after 1837; from 1853 Victor
+Baltard (1805-74), son of L.-P. Baltard, carried on; then the whole had to be rebuilt
+after it was burned under the Commune. The present rather similar edifice by Théodore
+Ballu (1817-74), a pupil of Lebas, was begun only in 1874, the year of his death, and
+eventually completed by his partner P.-J.-E. Deperthes (1833-98). Except for the high
+French roofs, looking forward like those by Gisors on the École Normale to the next
+period, the general effect of Lesueur’s work here was very Italianate.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A somewhat similar character can be seen in a few wholly new structures of more or
+less <i>François I</i> inspiration, for example the Museum and Library at Le Havre built by
+C.-L.-F. Brunet-Debaines (1801-62), a pupil of Vaudoyer and Lebas, in 1845. In such a
+major commercial work of this period as the Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie in
+the Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle, built by J.-L.-V. Grisart (1797-1877), a pupil of Huyot,
+and C.-M.-A. Froehlicher in 1838, it is hard to say whether the continuous arcading
+derived from French or from Italian sixteenth-century precedent. The iron-and-glass
+interiors were of more interest (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There has seemed no need to emphasize thus far, as regards its effect on architecture,
+the change of regime that took place in 1830, even though that date in the other arts of
+France is sometimes thought to mark the triumph of <i>romantisme de la lettre</i> over earlier
+Neo-Classicism. No such triumph took place in architecture, although it is evident
+that sources of inspiration other than the Antique were rather more frequently utilized
+after 1830 than before, if to nothing like the same extent as in Germany. Yet thanks to
+Victor Hugo and Guizot, Gothicism had by now acquired a less reactionary connotation
+than under the last Bourbons and was receiving the support, up to a point, of the
+July Monarchy (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For political reasons Louis Philippe desired especially to emphasize the continuity of
+his liberal monarchy with the more liberal aspects of the Empire and to reclaim for
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>France the Napoleonic glories that the Restoration had denigrated. So Napoleon’s ashes
+were brought back to the Invalides, where Visconti, hitherto chiefly active in the domestic
+field, prepared in 1842 a setting for them as funereal as the Chapelle Expiatoire but
+more sumptuous in its use of coloured marbles. Napoleon’s Temple de la Gloire (the
+Madeleine) and his Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile were finally brought to completion,
+the one by Huvé in 1845, the other by Blouet in 1837, as has already been noted.
+Several new monuments, very much of the Empire type, were also erected in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Where Napoleon’s Elephant Monument was to have marked the site of the Bastille,
+J.-A. Alavoine (1778-1834), and after his death L.-J. Duc (1802-79), a pupil of Percier,
+erected in 1831-40 the gigantic Colonne de Juillet, rather less Imperial Roman and more
+French Empire than Napoleon’s Colonne Vendôme, but like that all of metal. In the
+centre of the Place de la Concorde there rose, with echoes of Napoleon’s Egyptian campaign
+(and less relevantly of Sixtine Rome), a real obelisk presented to Louis Philippe
+by the Khedive in 1833; thereafter, Hittorff ornamented in 1836-40 the square, the
+Champs Élysées, the Place de l’Étoile, and the Avenue de la Grande Armée with big
+fountains, lamp standards, and other pieces of elaborate urbanistic furniture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>While the Empire embellishment of Paris was thus finished up or complemented, the
+July Monarchy also developed a fantastically extensive activity in the construction of
+hospitals, prisons, and other such utilitarian structures. Vast and plain, these could
+hardly be duller in the eyes of posterity. Yet they derive quite directly from Durand’s
+admirable paradigms for such structures and more remotely from the social, if not the
+aesthetic, aspirations of such men of high talent as Ledoux and Boullée, who initiated
+Romantic Classicism before the Revolution. If a funerary edifice—the Chapelle Expiatoire—best
+epitomizes the architecture of the Restoration, some enormous public
+institution is the contemporary, if inappropriate, architectural equivalent of the Romantic
+arts of Delacroix and Berlioz in the thirties and forties! Very conspicuous, and quite
+characteristic of these as a class, is the Hôtel Dieu, beside Notre-Dame in Paris, although
+this was actually built<a id="r66"></a><a href='#f66' class='c025'><sup>[66]</sup></a> very much later, in 1864-78, by A.-N. Diet (1827-90). It is the
+only one that can be readily seen without being jailed or certified; but most of them
+were amply presented in contemporary publications.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Penchaud, whose Marseilles Protestant church has already been mentioned, was one
+of the ablest and most productive provincial architects of the Restoration and Louis
+Philippe periods. His lazaret at Marseilles, built in 1822-6, is more Ledoux-like than
+the Aix Palace of Justice that he erected on Ledoux’s foundations and considerably more
+original than his triumphal arch of 1823-32 at Marseilles, called the Porte d’Aix. On
+this arch, however, the liveliness of the relief sculpture provides something of the same
+Romantic <i>élan</i> as that of Rude on the Arc de l’Étoile—Rude’s work dates, of course,
+from the Louis Philippe period. The Marseilles arch continues the Roman ideals of the
+Empire; the more significant lazaret revives the social and utilitarian ideals of the
+preceding Revolutionary period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Paris Lebas’s Petite Roquette Prison for young criminals, in the Rue de la Roquette,
+designed in 1825 and executed with some modification of the original project in 1831-6,
+hardly rivals his great church in interest; but the polygonal plan with machicolated
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>round towers at the corners recalls both the special medievalism of Boullée and the Millbank
+Penitentiary<a id="r67"></a><a href='#f67' class='c025'><sup>[67]</sup></a> in London of 1812-21 which Lebas had actually visited. Of more
+historical significance was the no longer extant Prison de la Nouvelle Force (or Mazas)
+commissioned in 1836 and built in 1843-50 by E.-J. Gilbert (1793-1874), a pupil first of
+Durand at the École Polytechnique and then of Vignon, the recognized leader in this
+field under Louis Philippe. Its radial cellular planning showed, like Barry’s Pentonville
+Prison of 1841-2 in London, the significant influence abroad of the Eastern Penitentiary
+in Philadelphia built by John Haviland (1792-1852) in 1823-35. This plan was made
+known to Europeans by two reports on American prisons, one by William Crawford,
+published in London in 1834, and another by F.-A. Demetz and Blouet, published in
+Paris in 1837. On this prison J.-F.-J. Lecointe (1783-1858) was associated with Gilbert.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Much larger is Gilbert’s Charenton Lunatic Asylum of 1838-45 at St Maurice outside
+Paris, which he designed and built alone. The vast and orderly grid of this institution
+provides a community that is almost of the order of a complete town. The innumerable
+bare and regular ranges of wards are dominated by the temple portico of the centrally
+placed chapel, an ecclesiastical monument of some distinction that is unfortunately inaccessible
+to visitors. Such work, often as extensive in the provinces as near the capital,
+was much admired and studied by foreigners even quite late in the century. To the
+French, moreover, it carried a special prestige; the line of descent was direct from
+Boullée to Durand and from Durand to Gilbert and his provincial rivals, such as the
+brothers Douillard (L.-P., 1790-1869; L.-C., 1795-1878, a pupil of Crucy), who were
+responsible for the Hospice Général (Saint-Jacques) at Nantes built in 1832-6 (Plate <a href='#pl020'>20</a>).
+In the estimation of contemporaries, this was one of the two main lines of development
+in this period, balancing socially and intellectually the more aesthetic programme of
+polychromatic romanticization pursued by Hittorff, Henri Labrouste, and Duban.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Representational public buildings, although usually much less plain in design, are
+likely to be even more heavy-handed than the prisons and lunatic asylums. Their architects’
+strictly functional approach was capable of achieving a rather bleak sort of distinction
+which should have been sympathetic to the twentieth century had they been better
+known. The Palace of Justice at Tours of 1840-50 by Charles Jacquemin-Belisle (1815-69),
+with its unpedimented Roman Doric portico, is typical enough of a very considerable
+number of large and prominent civic structures. Lequeux’s Paris town halls in the
+outlying <i>arrondissements</i> are just as dry but less monumentally Classical.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Happily there are a few finer public buildings, mostly in Paris, structures not least
+interesting for their bold use of metal and glass. Among early railway stations only the
+Gare Montparnasse of 1848-52 by V.-B. Lenoir (1805-63) and the engineer Eugène
+Flachat (1802-73) and the Gare de Strasbourg (Gare de l’Est) of 1847-52 by F.-A. Duquesney
+(1790-1849), a pupil of Percier, still stand in Paris. The Gare de l’Est, with its vast
+central lunette expressing clearly the iron-and-glass arched train-shed, is a most notable
+early station. The detailing, of a somewhat High Renaissance—at least not Greek or
+Roman—order, is pleasant but undistinguished (Plate <a href='#pl022b'>22<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This detailing has been
+effectively maintained in the modern doubling of the front of the station. The original
+shed by the engineer Sérinet was long ago replaced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>The other great Parisian structure of the forties in whose
+construction the visible use of iron played a prominent part, the
+Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève in the Place du Panthéon, is especially
+distinguished for the originality and elegance of its detailing, even
+more as regards that of the masonry of the exterior than of the
+ironwork within (Plate <a href='#pl021'>21</a>). Henri-P.-F. Labrouste (1801-75), a pupil
+of Lebas and Vaudoyer, who designed this library in 1839 and built it
+in 1843-50, is the one French architect of the age whose name can be
+mentioned—though a little diffidently—with those of the great
+architects of the earlier decades of the century outside France, Soane
+and Schinkel, even if his contemporaries usually gave precedence to
+Gilbert or to Hittorff. Yet Labrouste hardly ranks for quality with a
+Dane of his own generation such as Bindesbøll, although his library is
+much more advanced both stylistically and technically than the
+contemporary Thorwaldsen Museum in Copenhagen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Everywhere except in England this was a period, like the first quarter of the century,
+in which official architecture exceeded private in interest. Moreover, the priority that the
+erection of monuments of public utility, from markets and prisons to art galleries and
+libraries, received over the building of churches and palaces gave significant evidence
+of the rise of a new pattern of bourgeois culture. It is therefore quite appropriate that this
+library of Henri Labrouste’s should be the finest structure of the forties in France. The
+Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève is also one of the few buildings of the second quarter
+century anywhere in the world that has been almost universally admired ever since its
+completion, if successively for a variety of different reasons. The façade of the library,
+often ignored by those praising the visible iron structure of the interior (Figure <a href='#i125'>14</a>), outranks
+in distinction almost all other contemporary examples of the Renaissance Revival
+anywhere in the world; but it is worth noting that the flanking administrative block
+and the Collège Sainte-Barbe also offer a premonition of the next period in their prominent
+mansard roofs. (Henri’s brother F.-M.-T. Labrouste (1799-1855) supervised the
+construction of the college.) The façade of Henri’s administrative block is a composition
+of real originality and exquisite co-ordination of parts to which the term Renaissance
+Revival need hardly be applied; this is what <i>style Louis Philippe</i> really means, or ought
+at least to mean.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By Charles X’s time the Salle des Cinq Cents at the Palais Bourbon, erected by the
+two older Gisors and Leconte in the 1790s, was in such a bad state that it was necessary
+to rebuild it, adding at the same time a library. J.-J.-B. de Joly (1788-1865) in 1828-33
+followed closely the original design; but behind the scenes, as it were, he used a great
+deal of iron to ensure a lasting structure. He also embellished the walls with a richly
+coloured sheathing of French marbles and, in the library, with murals by Delacroix.
+With less originality, but with respect for a major monument of the seventeenth century,
+H.-A.-G. de Gisors much enlarged the Luxembourg for Louis Philippe in 1834-41, repeating
+Salomon de Brosse’s original garden façade, in order to accommodate a new
+chamber for the House of Peers. His chamber followed closely the earlier one there of
+1798 by Chalgrin; the new chapel which he also provided at the Luxembourg has even
+more of the colouristic richness demanded by advanced taste in this period. The Luxembourg
+Orangery, later the Luxembourg Museum, which was built by Gisors in 1840 in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>an early seventeenth-century mode, used brick for the walls with only the dressings of
+stone, a rare instance of such external bichromy in the Paris of its day despite the lively
+interest in the employment of colour in architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The present Foreign Ministry on the Quai d’Orsay was built in 1846-56 by Jacques
+Lacornée (1779-1856), who had completed in 1821-35 his master Bonnard’s earlier
+Ministry near by that was begun for Napoleon in 1814. Superimposed arch orders produce
+a rich and rather Venetian version of the Renaissance Revival not unrelated to the
+treatment of the somewhat exceptional Empire building on which he had worked. Duc
+began to plan the restoration and enlargement of the Palace of Justice in Paris as
+early as 1840, but the handsomest and most conspicuous portions of this elaborate complex
+date from the Second Empire. J.-F. Duban (1797-1870) started the restoration of
+the old Louvre, over which a hot controversy soon ensued, in 1848; the New Louvre,
+begun by Visconti in 1852 and carried forward after his death in 1853 by Lefuel,
+would be the prime monument of the succeeding period (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>). Duban’s
+capacities in this period—he did his best work rather later (Plate <a href='#pl072b'>72<span class='fss'>B</span></a>)—are better appreciated
+in the building for the École des Beaux Arts he completed in 1838 and in the
+elegant Early Italian Renaissance design of the Hôtel de Pourtalès of 1836 in the Rue
+Tronchet, perhaps the finest Paris mansion of its day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, it was not with such <i>hôtels particuliers</i> but with <i>maisons de rapport</i>, that is,
+blocks of flats, that the streets of Paris, like those of Berlin and Vienna, were mostly
+built up in these decades. Earlier ones, such as those in the Place de la Bourse, are very
+carefully composed yet almost devoid of prominent architectural features
+(Plate <a href='#pl027c'>27<span class='fss'>C</span></a>).
+In the later thirties and above all the forties, however, the detail grew richer and more
+eclectic, while the façades were in general much less neatly composed. Not
+only were rich Italian or French Renaissance features popular but exotic oriental ornament
+was more than occasionally used. The planning became more complex and elastic
+also; but both in exterior design and in interior organization the type remained firmly
+rooted in late-eighteenth-century tradition. The Paris streets of the first half of the nineteenth
+century have a notable consistency of scale and character, since the cornice lines,
+and even the shapes of the high roofs, were controlled by a well-enforced building code
+and their eclecticism of style is little more than a matter of detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>More than in other countries in this period, the major virtues of
+French architecture lay in the placid continuance of well-established
+lines. Traditions were being slowly eroded, but there was very little
+of that urgent desire to overturn the immediate past which coloured so
+significantly much English production of the thirties and forties. Nor
+was there the German capacity in this period for carrying over into
+medievalizing modes the basic discipline of established Romantic
+Classicism. Not surprisingly, French leadership in architecture,
+established under Louis XIV and renewed under Napoleon, was largely
+lost; it came back, however, with the Second Empire
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch08'>8</a> and <a href='#ch09'>9</a>). All the same, architectural
+controversy flourished at home in these decades.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Quite naturally, French influence still remained largely dominant in contiguous
+Belgium and much of Switzerland. If Studer’s work in Berne falls under the German
+rubric of <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, in French-speaking Lausanne and Neuchâtel important commissions
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>went to Frenchmen. An Asylum for the former city was designed by Henri
+Labrouste in 1837-8; another in the latter town, built a few years later, is by P.-F.-N.
+Philippon (1784-1866), a pupil of J.-J. Ramée who had also worked with Brongniart.
+Both are characteristically respectable examples of <i>Louis Philippe</i> work. Labrouste also
+designed a prison for Alessandria in Italy in 1840.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Belgium, under Dutch rule from the fall of Napoleon down to 1830, the Théâtre
+de la Monnaie in Brussels, begun in 1819 by the French architect L.-E.-A. Damesme
+(1757-1822), who had once worked on the Paris <i>barrières</i> with Ledoux, and completed
+by E.-J. Bonnevie (1783-1835), is a large but typical example of the theatres built in the
+French provinces by architects of the previous generation. It was not improved by an
+enlargement and remodelling of 1856, but the original temple portico is noble in scale
+and handsomely detailed. Characteristically, Damesme also built the Brussels prison.
+When a new generation of Belgian architects appeared led by Joseph Poelaert (1817-79),
+who had studied with Huyot, more international influences were evident. For
+example, Poelaert’s fine early school of 1852 in the Rue de Schaerbeek in Brussels shows
+little of Huyot but a good deal of Schinkel in its rationalistic handling of Grecian forms.
+Poelaert’s boldness here, which even suggests that of Alexander Thomson in his Glasgow
+work of this decade and the next, prepares one a little for his later Palace of Justice
+designed in the sixties (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The long pre-eminence of Italy in the arts came to an end even before the end of the
+old regime. Architects still flocked there, finding in each generation new sources of inspiration
+as first Renaissance palaces and then medieval churches succeeded Roman ruins
+as the preferred quarry of travellers of taste. But not after Piranesi was there an Italian
+architect with real international influence. At the opening of the new century doctrine
+flowed from Paris, not from Rome; increasingly, moreover, architects turned to England
+and Germany for still fresher ideas and ideals.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Only a few Italian cities were notably ornamented in this period; on the other hand,
+none were blighted, and much ordinary building hardly even bears clear indications of
+its date. The characteristic and prominent productions of the period are, however, quite
+up to the highest international standards. They have thus far been underestimated, not
+least by the Italians themselves, partly because they are so much overshadowed in interest
+by earlier work, partly because they carry in Italy for the first time since the Gothic
+the onus—not entirely justified—of following a foreign lead.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Pope, like other legitimate sovereigns who returned to power after Napoleon’s
+fall, carried out existing projects, notably those for the Piazza del Popolo as planned by
+Valadier. He also initiated in 1817 the building of a new wing for the sculpture museum
+at the Vatican, the Braccio Nuovo by Raffaelle Stern (1774-1820). Completed in
+1821, this is one of the finest of the many galleries in the line of descent from Simonetti’s
+Museo Pio-Clementino at the Vatican of which the first half of the nineteenth
+century saw so many (Plate <a href='#pl024'>24</a>). Taller and less ornately embellished than Klenze’s
+galleries in the Munich Glyptothek, and with rather stronger spatial articulation, this
+is none the less well within the Romantic Classical tradition as it had been established
+by the previous generation of French architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>The principal architectural activity of the post-Napoleonic years in Rome and, indeed,
+of the whole later period of papal rule was the reconstruction after a fire of the
+great fifth-century basilica of San Paolo fuori-le-mura. Begun by Pasquale Belli (1752-1833)
+in 1825, with whom were associated the younger Pietro Camporesi (1792-1873)
+and F. J. Bosio (1768-1845), the supervision was taken over after Belli’s death in 1833
+by Luigi Poletti (1792-1869), who completed the job in 1856. Following closely the
+august original in its dimensions and proportions, San Paolo has a truly Roman Imperial
+scale; but the hardness of the materials, the polish of their surfaces, and the cold precision
+of their handling recalls rather the contemporary Paris churches of Lebas and
+Hittorff without matching their relatively rich colour. A more modest Roman monument
+of this period in a conspicuous location is the Teatro Argentina by Camporesi.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Teatro Carlo Felice in the Piazza de Ferrari in Genoa, built by C. F. Barabino
+(1768-1835) in 1827, is a more advanced and distinguished Romantic Classical structure
+of considerable originality, now badly damaged by bombing. Barabino was also responsible
+for designing the Camposanto di Staglieno at Genoa with its Pantheon-like chapel
+and its endless colonnades. Begun in 1835, this project was carried to completion by
+G. B. Rezasco (1799-1872).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Naples<a id="r68"></a><a href='#f68' class='c025'><sup>[68]</sup></a> has more interesting monuments of this period to offer than Rome or
+Genoa. Yet San Francesco di Paola, which was built from designs by Pietro Bianchi
+(1787-1849) in 1816-24 in resolution of a vow of Ferdinand I, can hardly be considered
+much more original than San Paolo (Plate <a href='#pl026a'>26<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The interior is another of the innumerable
+copies of the Pantheon that were erected all over Europe and America in this
+period; but the Berninian quadrant colonnades in front are better handled than at
+Voronikhin’s Kazan Cathedral at Petersburg. The great saucer dome, moreover, is rather
+happily echoed in the two smaller domes on either side; they serve also to tie together
+the side colonnades and the pedimented portico. Above all, this church is most effective
+urbanistically. The colonnades enclose the square north of the Royal Palace in a quite
+Baroque way; while the church as a whole, because of the giant scale of its parts and its
+cleanly sculptural composition, stands as a discrete object in the best Romantic Classical
+way against the higher portion of the city that rises behind. Less happy in the city picture
+is the front of the San Carlo opera house, carried out a little earlier in 1810-12 by
+Antonio Niccolini (1772-1850), who also redecorated the interior in 1816-17 and again in
+1841-4. This has adequate open space only at the sides; and the curiously high-waisted
+façade, in any case rather underscaled in its parts, must be seen in a perspective sharper
+than is becoming to most post-Baroque monuments (Plate <a href='#pl023b'>23<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The throne room in the palace at nearby Caserta, decorated for Ferdinand II by
+Gaetano Genovese (1795-1860) in 1839-45, is a surprisingly worthy late pendant to de
+Simone’s contiguous interiors of more than a generation earlier, very rich indeed in its
+gold-and-white decoration, but superbly ordered. Genovese also carried out an extensive
+and tactful remodelling and enlargement of the Royal Palace in Naples in 1837-44,
+most notably the regularization of the long façade above the quay.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No other Italian city provides quite such prominent examples of individual Romantic
+Classical monuments as do Rome and Naples. The setting of San Carlo in Milan, built
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>by Carlo Amati (1776-1852) in 1844-7, a rectangular recession from the line of the
+present-day Corso Matteotti, provides no such build-up for its Pantheon-like dome as
+does Bianchi’s San Francesco. The giant granite colonnades at the base of the contiguous
+blocks do, however, continue effectively the pedimented portico on either side of the
+little <i>piazza</i>. Only at Turin, almost more French than Italian always, were great squares
+and wide, arcaded streets carried out in this period, but without focal monuments of any
+particular distinction. These squares and streets vie with Percier and Fontaine’s in Paris,
+yet they also continue a local seventeenth-century tradition that was to remain alive
+down into the Fascist period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The expiatory church in Turin, which paralleled in motivation Ferdinand I’s in
+Naples, the Gran Madre di Dio, was proposed in 1814 and built on the farther bank of
+the Po by Ferdinando Bonsignore (1767-1843) in 1818-31 to celebrate the departure of
+the French and the return of the House of Savoy to its capital (Plate <a href='#pl026b'>26<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This is a far
+duller and less original example of a modern structure based directly on the Pantheon
+than is the Tempio Canoviano of 1819-20 at Possagno.<a id="r69"></a><a href='#f69' class='c025'><sup>[69]</sup></a> For this the great Romantic
+Classical sculptor of Italy, Thorvaldsen’s rival Antonio Canova, was the client and
+apparently also the designer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is not Bonsignore’s church that is notable in the Turin scene but the vast Piazza
+Vittorio Veneto opposite, laid out by Giuseppe Frizzi (1797-1831) in 1818 and later
+surrounded by fine ranges of arcaded buildings mostly carried out between 1825 and 1830
+(Plate <a href='#pl026b'>26<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). At the upper end of this tremendous square two quadrants draw in to meet
+the arcaded Via Po. Characteristically, the arcades here are supported on compound piers
+based on those in the seventeenth-century Piazza San Carlo but simplified and sharpened
+now to conform to Romantic Classical standards. Also a typical Turin feature, but
+new in this period, was the syncopation of the handsome iron balconies of the upper
+storeys. This theme marks most of the houses in the quarter contiguous to this square,
+a quarter built up over the next generation in a remarkably elegant and consistent way
+more than rivalling the contemporary districts of Paris or Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The other principal square of this period, on the farther side of the new quarter and
+at the outer end of the present-day Via Roma, is the Piazza Carlo Felice. This was laid
+out by the engineer Lombardi and by Frizzi in 1823, and has façades by Carlo Promis
+(1808-73) that also extend on both sides of the square along the broad Corso Vittorio
+Emmanuele II. Continuous arcades cross the street ends, as in the Piazza Vittorio Veneto,
+and the balconies are syncopated. The fine big trees in the square and along the Corso
+are a happy addition to the urban scene quite uncharacteristic of the rest of Italy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The inner end of the Piazza Carlo Felice is not curved but semi-octagonal. Originally
+the outer end was open and defined only by rows of trees; later, in 1866-8, the handsome
+Porta Nuova Railway Station was built there by the engineer Alessandro Mazzuchetti
+(1824-94) and the architect Carlo Ceppi (1829-1921). Now this terminates the
+long central axis of the city which extends from the Royal Palace through the Piazza
+Castello, the Piazza San Carlo, and down the Via Roma to the Piazza Carlo Felice.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Turin has other monumental edifices of this period besides the Gran Madre di Dio.
+There are, for example, two later churches in the new quarter, San Massimo and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>Sacramentine; the latter, by Alfonso Dupuy, was built in 1846-50 from a design of 1843,
+with later portico by Ceppi; the former in 1845-54 by Carlo Sada (1809-73). Both are
+domed, but less Pantheon-like than the Gran Madre. They lack, unfortunately, the elegance
+and delicacy of scale of the houses of the period in the streets that surround them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Milan owes less than Turin to the architectural activity of this period. The present
+decoration of the interior of the opera-house, La Scala, which was built by Giuseppe
+Piermarini (1734-1808) in 1776-8, dates from 1830 and is by Alessandro Sanquirico
+(1774-1849). This is quite similar in the sumptuousness of its white-and-gold ornamentation
+to Genovese’s later throne room at Caserta. The square gatehouses at the
+Porta Venezia, built in 1826 by Rodolfo Vantini (1791-1856), are boldly scaled and
+effectively paired. The Palazzo Rocca-Saporiti of 1812 by Giovanni Perego (1776-1817)
+in the Corso Venezia with its raised colonnade rivals in interest Cantoni’s better-known
+Palazzo Serbelloni of the 1790s near by. The much smaller and considerably
+later Palazzo Lucini of 1831 in the Via Monte di Pietà by Ferdinando Crivelli (1810-55)
+is so expert an example of High Renaissance design that it can readily be taken for real
+<i>cinquecento</i> work. Paradoxically, such an extremely literate specimen of the Renaissance
+Revival is far less characteristic of Italy in the second quarter of the nineteenth century
+than of England or Germany. More typical of Italian taste in the thirties and forties
+are the buildings facing the flank of La Scala across the Via Verdi with their complex
+rhythm of fenestration and their very rich but still vaguely Grecian ornamentation.
+Eventually the Italians did, however, take up occasionally the Renaissance version of the
+international <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, and none too happily. For example, the Casa di Risparmio
+(known vulgarly as the Ca’ de Sass), built by Giuseppe Balzaretti (1801-74) in 1872
+across the street from the refined and discreet Palazzo Lucini, is a stonier example of
+Tuscan rustication—as its nickname suggests—than was ever produced by the Northern
+Europeans who first revived the mode half a century earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A charming ornament to a smaller city is the Caffè Pedrocchi<a id="r70"></a><a href='#f70' class='c025'><sup>[70]</sup></a> in Padua of 1816-31
+by Giuseppe Jappelli (1783-1852), a pupil of Selva, and Antonio Gradenigo (1806-84).
+Delicate in scale, interestingly varied in the handling of solids and voids, and most
+urbane in the discretion of its carefully placed ornamentation, this is certainly the handsomest
+nineteenth-century café in the world and about the finest Romantic Classical
+edifice in Italy (Plate <a href='#pl023a'>23<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Exceptional in this period in the Latin world is the Neo-Gothic
+wing known as Il Pedrocchino attached to the café, designed by Jappelli and for
+the same client; this was completed in 1837.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Trieste in this period, like the cities of Lombardy and the Veneto, is more Italian than
+Austrian architecturally. As a result it outshines Vienna in the extent and the quality of
+its early nineteenth-century construction. The new buildings were largely concentrated
+around the Canal Grande, a rectangular lagoon extending inland from the Riva Tre
+Novembre. At the head of this rises Sant’ Antonio di Padova, built by Nobile in 1826-49,
+long after this former Trieste City Architect had been called to Vienna as head of
+the architecture section of the Akademie there. Occupying a position somewhat similar
+to that of the Gran Madre di Dio in Turin, Nobile’s church is considerably more interesting,
+particularly as regards the generous spatial organization of the interior. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Canal Grande is flanked by contemporary palaces that are harmonious with one another
+in scale but quite varied in detail. The largest and finest, facing the sea on the left, is the
+Palazzo Carciotti. This was completed in 1806 by Matthäus Pertsch, a Milan-trained
+architect who had provided in 1798 the façade of the Teatro Verdi here in Trieste. With
+its raised portico and small dome, the Palazzo Carciotti is one of the most prominent
+and successful Italian buildings of the opening years of the century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the other side of the Latin world, the Iberian peninsula participated rather less than
+the Italian in the advanced architectural movements of the first half of the century.
+In Madrid the Obelisk of the 2nd of May, built by Isidro Gonzalez Velasquez
+(1764/5-?) in 1822-40, and the Obelisk of La Castellana (1883), by Francisco Javier
+de Mariateguí, are rather modest specimens of a widely popular sort of erection compared
+to Smirke’s gigantic Wellington Testimonial in Dublin or Mills’s Washington
+Monument. The Palace of the Congress of 1843-50 by Narciso Pascual y Coloner
+(1808-70) is a dull example of that nineteenth-century Classicism that hardly deserves
+the qualification ‘Romantic’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Italians, little employed elsewhere out of their own country in this period, provided
+the principal new public edifices of Lisbon. F. X. Fabri (?-1807) built the Palace of
+Arzuda, begun in 1802, and Fortunato Lodi (1806-?) the Garret Theatre more than a
+generation later in 1842-6; both are as uninspired as the contemporary monuments of
+Madrid. As late as 1867-75 the Municipal Chamber of Lisbon by the local architect
+Domingos Ponente da Silva (1836-1901) maintained the Classical mode at its most conventional.
+Already, with the establishment of the Braganza headquarters in Rio de Janeiro
+early in the century, Portuguese vitality was passing to the New World (see Chapter <a href='#ch05'>5</a>).
+Yet if Lisbon has no individual Romantic Classical monuments of much interest, the
+lower city, extending from the Praça do Commercio to O Rocio, is a splendid example
+of late-eighteenth-century urbanism, initiated after the earthquake of 1755 by Eugenio
+dos Santos de Carvalho (1711-60).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the eighteenth century Petersburg owed its grandeur as a Baroque city largely to
+the work of imported Italian architects; but with the rise of French and English influence
+in the later decades of the old century and the first of the new the day of the
+Italians was over, there as elsewhere (see Chapter <a href='#ch01'>1</a>). Alexander I’s aspirations, after as
+well as before Waterloo, were wholly French, not Italian. The Committee for Construction
+and Hydraulic Works, indeed, which Alexander set up in 1816 to pass the designs
+of all public and private buildings in his capital, had a French military engineer, General
+Béthencourt, as its chairman. Yet the principal architect of the post-Napoleonic decades,
+Karl Ivanovich Rossi (1775-1849), although he had an Italian family name and was of
+Italian origin, was Russian-born and Russian-trained. Rossi’s General Staff Arches of
+1819-29 and the vast hemicycle of which they are the centre continue happily the
+urbanistic tradition of the older generation; but the detail is Roman not Greek, and the
+taste altogether coarser and more provincial than that of Thomon and Zakharov
+(Plate <a href='#pl027b'>27<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This is even more true of his Alexandra Theatre of 1827-32 and his Senate
+and Synod of 1829-34.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>August Augustovich Monferran (1786-1858), to whom was assigned the building of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>St Isaac’s Cathedral<a id="r71"></a><a href='#f71' class='c025'><sup>[71]</sup></a> in 1817, a vast pile that he completed only in 1857 (Plate <a href='#pl027a'>27<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), was
+French, despite the Russian form in which his name is here given, and actually a pupil
+of Percier. In his youth he had worked under Vignon on the Madeleine, moreover.
+Monferran lacked, like most of his own generation who remained in France, both the
+originality and the finesse of the earlier generation, just as Nicholas I lacked the taste of
+his brother Alexander I. A wealth of sumptuous materials, granites and marbles, marks
+this church, however, and the dome is of some importance in technical history because it
+is entirely framed in iron (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another typical monument in the Napoleonic tradition rose also from Monferran’s
+designs, the Alexander Column of 1829 in the Winter Palace Square (Plate <a href='#pl027b'>27<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This
+may well be the largest granite monolith in the world—a typically Russian claim—but
+it quite lacks the elegance of Alavoine’s still later Colonne de Juillet in Paris or the
+scale of Mills’s Washington Monument. The Triumphal Gate of 1833 by Vasili Petrovich
+Stasov (1769-1848) is a trabeated Greek Doric propylaeon, somewhat comparable to
+Nobile’s Burgtor in Vienna; more significant is the fact that, like the July Column in
+Paris and Monferran’s great dome, not to speak of a curious Egyptian suspension bridge
+of this period in Petersburg, this structure is all of metal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1840 the authority of the Committee of 1816 was terminated and in Petersburg, as
+so generally elsewhere in Europe, coherent urbanistic control came to an end. The great
+architectural period there was over as Moscow, with its nationalistic traditions, came
+more to the fore. Characteristically, the most important new church of the second
+quarter of the century, the Cathedral of the Redeemer of 1839-83, was built in the older
+capital and is the first major Russian example of Neo-Byzantine. One is not surprised to
+find that Konstantin Andreevich Ton (1794-1881), its architect, was German not
+French; for in a sense this represents a rather clumsy local variant of the German <i>Rundbogenstil</i>,
+continuing the particular eclectic line initiated by Klenze in his Munich Court
+Church more than a decade earlier.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>
+  <h2 id='ch04' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 4</span><br />GREAT BRITAIN</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>In</span> English terminology, the most productive period of Nash and Soane, the two
+greatest Romantic Classical architects of England, extending from 1810 down to the
+thirties, is loosely referred to as ‘Regency’, and the rest of the first half of the century as
+‘Early Victorian’. Neither term has much more specific meaning in an international
+frame of reference than does ‘Restoration’ or ‘Louis Philippe’ in France, not to speak
+of ‘Biedermeier’, which is sometimes used for this period in Germany and Austria.
+‘Regency’ production includes the characteristic monuments of mature Romantic
+Classicism in England and also much work that makes manifest the Picturesque point
+of view. Early Victorian production illustrates the modulation of Romantic Classicism
+into the Renaissance Revival, and includes as well the most doctrinaire phase of the
+Gothic Revival (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+<p class='c010'>Although current researches are somewhat amending the picture, it is accepted that
+private architecture has generally been more significant in England than public architecture.
+This was least true in the first three decades of the nineteenth century. Soane
+had been Architect to the Bank of England, in effect if not in fact an important branch
+of the State, from 1788. Nash succeeded Wyatt in the office of Surveyor-General—although
+he was only given the title of Deputy—in 1813. And in 1815 Soane, Nash, and
+Smirke, undoubtedly the three leading architects of their day if one excepts Wilkins,
+became the members of a new board set up by the national Office of Works, which
+was at a peak of its authority and activity immediately after Napoleon’s downfall.
+Soane and Smirke, though not personal favourites of George IV, were knighted, like
+several of their German contemporaries. The principal building project of the day, the
+laying out and the construction of Regent Street and Regent’s Park, the latter on Crown
+land, had the fullest personal support of George IV, first as Regent and after 1820 as
+King.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet Soane’s most important work between 1810 and 1818 was private, except for
+what he built as Architect to the Chelsea Hospital, and, in the case of his house and his
+family tomb, wholly personal. All that remains of consequence of his work at the Chelsea
+Hospital, the stables of 1814-17, might as well be private, for this is no great monument
+with columned portico and Pantheon-dome such as preoccupied most architects of
+Soane’s generation and status abroad (Plate <a href='#pl028a'>28<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Rigidly astylar, boldly arcuated, and
+executed in common yellowish London stock bricks, with no more deference to the
+purplish walling bricks and bright orange-red rubbed dressings of Wren’s earlier buildings
+at the Hospital than to his English Baroque style, this is as utilitarian as any project of
+Durand’s. Moreover, in its very simple detailing this reflects, and quite consciously,
+something of that primitivistic aspect of international Romantic Classical theory deriving
+from the theories of Soane’s favourite critical author, Laugier. Above all, in the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>proportioning and in the organization of the arcuated elements, the design of the stables
+is personal almost to the point of perversity. It is far more comprehensible to the abstract
+tastes of the twentieth century than in accordance with the ideals most widely accepted
+in the England of Soane’s own day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Soane’s Dulwich Gallery of 1811-14, outside London, is likewise built of common
+brick and has similarly primitivistic detailing. This structure is most characteristic of its
+period in being a museum, indeed it is the earliest nineteenth-century example; but it
+could hardly be more different from the line of sculpture galleries that runs from
+Klenze’s Glyptothek in Munich through Bindesbøll’s Thorwaldsen Museum in Copenhagen.
+Nor does it much resemble the picture galleries of the period running from those
+in Schinkel’s Altes Museum in Berlin through Klenze’s Ältere Pinakothek in Munich to
+Voit’s Neuere Pinakothek, also in Munich. It is least unlike the last of these, although
+that was designed forty years later; this similarity may help to suggest how confusingly
+advanced in style Soane, eldest of the leading architects of the post-Napoleonic decades,
+remained even in middle and old age.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But Soane’s <i>Rundbogenstil</i>—so to apply this term out of its German context, as one
+might do even more properly to the Chelsea Hospital stables—is a round-arched style
+with a difference. There are neither medieval nor <i>quattrocento</i> Italian overtones here.
+While Soane’s approach was creatively personal in the detailing as well as in the over-all
+organization, that approach seems most closely parallel to Durand’s rationalism, particularly
+in the technical skill with which the monitor-lighting was handled. The centrepiece
+of the Gallery is a mausoleum in which Soane’s virtuosity in three-dimensional
+composition—an interest that sets him well apart from most of his generation on the
+Continent—and also at abstract linear ornamentation, produced here by plain incisions
+in the stone slabs of the lantern, reaches something of a climax.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even more of such ornamentation is to be seen on the family tomb in St Pancras
+churchyard of 1816 as also, though much more chastely handled, on the façade of his
+own house<a id="r72"></a><a href='#f72' class='c025'><sup>[72]</sup></a> of 1812-13 at 13 Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The interiors of this house are full of
+spatial exercises, many of them miniscule in scale, which Soane developed later in
+various public structures. It may suffice here to mention the small breakfast-room with
+its very shallow dome, its varied and ingenious effects of indirect lighting, and its characteristic
+decoration by means of incised linear patterns and convex mirrors.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1818 there began for Soane a new spate of public activity that continued down to
+1823. A series of offices at the Bank of England<a id="r73"></a><a href='#f73' class='c025'><sup>[73]</sup></a> now carried further the spatial and
+decorative innovations of the interiors of the 1790s. Whether or not these were finer is a
+matter of taste; but the continuous arched forms without imposts, the smoother surfaces,
+and the very abstract linear decoration certainly represent a more advanced stage of
+Soane’s personal style (Plate <a href='#pl028b'>28<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Under the Act for Building New Churches of 1818,
+which generated great activity in the ecclesiastical field, Soane was one of the guiding
+architects; he built, however, only three churches for the Commission that was set up by
+the Act. St Peter’s, Walworth, in South London, of 1823-5 is both elegant and ingenious
+in the way the galleries are incorporated into the internal architectural organization
+rather than treated as mere afterthought. The other two are less successful.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>Almost all the other churches built under the Act, or by other means, in these years
+were rather conventionally Grecian, that is if sufficient funds were available; otherwise
+they were what is called ‘Commissioners’ Gothic’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). The contrast
+that the former provide with the Walworth church helps to emphasize the highly personal
+character of Soane’s achievement even in his least esteemed work. St Peter’s was
+evidently designed from the inside out, and owes almost nothing to the architecture of
+any period of the past. The type-church of the age in England, however, comparable in
+historical significance to Lebas’s slightly later Notre-Dame-de-Lorette in Paris, is St
+Pancras of 1818-22 in the Euston Road in London built by William Inwood (<i>c.</i> 1771-1843)
+and his son (H. W., 1794-1843). Very evidently this was designed from the
+outside in, for its features are derived from the Erechtheum, a monument which the
+younger Inwood actually went to Athens to measure after the church had been begun.<a id="r74"></a><a href='#f74' class='c025'><sup>[74]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>English tradition required a lantern above the temple portico at the front, and so the
+Inwoods devised a sort of Gibbsian tower for St Pancras out of elements borrowed from
+the Athenian Tower of the Winds. Urbane yet rather barren, the interior lacks even the
+tepid religious feeling of the French basilicas of the day. The architects, and contemporaries
+generally, were more interested in the caryatid porches—for there are not one
+but two—that flank the rear.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Other Inwood churches in London, such as All Saints in Camden Street of 1822-4 and
+St Peter’s in Regent’s Square of 1824-6, are equally Greek in detail but less directly
+related to particular ancient monuments. They are also much less impressive. No more
+interesting are most of the Grecian churches built by other architects. St Mary’s, Wyndham
+Place of 1823-4 by Smirke, however, is set apart by the circular tower placed on
+the south, a feature which he had already used on St Philip’s, Salford, of 1822-5. His
+church at Markham Clinton in Nottinghamshire of 1833, cruciform in plan and with a
+fine octagonal lantern, is considerably more original, but it was rather a family mausoleum
+than an ordinary parish church.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A revolution was getting under way in Great Britain in the realm of church architecture
+at this very time, and the heyday of the temple church was destined to be brief.
+After the early thirties only Nonconformists continued to build them. But such a Congregational
+chapel as that built by F. H. Lockwood (1811-78) and Thomas Allom
+(1804-72) in Great Thornton Street, Hull, in 1841-3, its broad temple front flanked by
+lower side wings, still had real distinction, a distinction rarely maintained after this date,
+although rather similar structures continued to be erected for several more decades both
+in London and in the provinces.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Scotland, where Greek sanctions lasted longer than in England, Alexander Thomson
+(1817-75) built in the fifties and sixties three of the finest Romantic Classical
+churches in the world. His Caledonia Road Free Church in Glasgow of 1856-7 was designed
+for those Presbyterians who had left the established Scottish church in 1843
+(Plate <a href='#pl029'>29</a>). This owes a great deal to Schinkel’s suburban Berlin churches, which Thomson
+must have known through the <i>Sammlung architektonischer Entwürfe</i>. The composition
+is more Picturesque, in being markedly asymmetrical, and the superb tower at
+the corner reduces the temple front to a subordinate element in a sort of Italian Villa
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>composition. Yet the idea for this sort of composition may well have come from Schinkel
+also, a derivation which the rather <i>Rundbogenstil</i> character and asymmetrical organization
+of certain of Thomson’s earlier suburban villas seems to make still more probable. The
+interior of the church is very different from that of Soane’s in Walworth, but it is equally
+architectonic in the Schinkelesque way the galleries are incorporated in the general
+scheme. This is real interior architecture, not just a gallery-surrounded hall like the
+Grecian churches in England built back in the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thomson’s more prominently located St Vincent Street Church of 1859, also in Glasgow,
+is not finer. But it utilizes a difficult site with striking success, and the exotic eclecticism
+of the spire is peculiarly personal to Thomson. His Queen’s Park Church of 1867,
+in a southern suburb of Glasgow, was as perversely original as anything by Soane, and
+is perhaps Thomson’s final masterpiece. Inside, he handled the light iron supports with
+clear logic and elegantly appropriate painted decoration. Both the heavy masonry tower—which
+is, of course, invisible from the interior—and the heavy clerestory are carried on
+these delicately proportioned metal columns with a frankness and boldness hardly
+equalled before the twentieth century. Externally Thomson detailed the trabeated
+masonry with the purity of a Schinkel and the originality of a Soane, yet he composed
+the façade in three dimensions in a fashion that is almost Baroque beneath his strange
+near-Hindu ‘spire’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thomson’s churches, late though they are, can be better understood as examples of
+Romantic Classicism, sharing important qualities with the boldest French projects of the
+1780s, than in relation to any other stage of nineteenth-century architectural development.
+Yet it will be evident later that they also have a good deal in common with the
+architectural aspirations of their own quarter of the century (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Soane in his latest work seems at times to have produced what were almost
+parodies of his characteristic Bank interiors, approaching in their strangeness and their
+oriental allusions the exotic spires of Thomson. As these things do not survive, it is hard
+to know whether the Court of Chancery at Westminster of 1824-5, with its pendentives
+cut back so that they are no more than a sort of plaster awning, or the Council Chamber
+in Freemasons’ Hall, with its strange canopy-like covering, were effective or not. But
+these interiors do help to explain why the idiosyncratic, not to say cranky, Soane left on
+his death in 1837 no such living tradition behind him as did Schinkel in Germany.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nash, Soane’s rival as England’s leading architect in the second and third decades of
+the nineteenth century, was a very different sort of man. Until his marriage he was of no
+great prominence; it was the Regent’s favour which then brought him to the fore. As an
+urbanist, if not as a designer of individual buildings, he was worthy of his opportunities—and
+no architect of his generation had greater. His distinction at what is today called
+‘planning’ resides not alone in the amplitude, the elasticity, and the resultant variety of
+his schemes, but as much perhaps in his ability as an entrepreneur in carrying amazingly
+extensive operations to completion. Few, moreover, succeeded better than Nash in
+modulating Romantic Classicism towards the Picturesque; and this was over and above
+his important direct contribution to Picturesque practice in the building of castles,
+villas, and cottages.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>At the beginning of the second decade of the century the lease of the Crown’s Marylebone
+Estate fell in. Nash’s scheme for its development, by far the most comprehensive,
+won the day, evidently because he had the personal backing of the Regent. Nash’s
+scheme of 1812, somewhat modified in ultimate execution, provided for a park—Regent’s
+Park—surrounded by terraces of considerable size organized into a series of
+palatial compositions (Figure <a href='#i065'>10</a>). The traditions of homogeneous terrace design go back
+to the early eighteenth century, and terraces facing out towards open scenery appeared
+soon after the middle of the century. But what Nash planned for Regent’s Park, and in
+the main executed, vastly exceeded not only in extent but also in originality the early
+eighteenth-century terrace in Grosvenor Square, where the idea of over-all composition
+was probably first tried out, or the mid-eighteenth-century Royal Crescent at Bath by
+John Wood II (1728-81), which was the first terrace to face not a square or a street but
+open park-like country. This work around the park alone should have been enough to
+make Nash’s reputation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But in these unquiet years, when the world was briefly trying to live at peace with
+Napoleon, Nash sensed the Regent’s ambition to embellish London in a way to rival the
+Emperor’s plans for Paris. He therefore projected a street which should proceed, much as
+had been proposed even before this, along the line where the residential West End began,
+northward from the Regent’s residence at Carlton House to the southern entrance
+of the new park. An early scheme for such a street, entirely lined with colonnades and
+interrupted by squares in which public structures would stand in splendid isolation, suggests
+his original aim of emulating the Rue de Rivoli and Parisian monuments like the
+Madeleine and the Bourse. As the project was gradually adjusted to the realities of the
+situation, most of its geometric regularity and practically all of its Parisian character disappeared.
+The colonnades survived only along the Quadrant leading out of Piccadilly
+Circus; the Duke of York’s Column in Waterloo Place, rising between the two blocks
+of Carlton House Terrace, which eventually replaced Carlton House, is the one feature
+of Napoleonic scale and character. It is not by Nash but by the Duke of York’s favourite
+architect, Benjamin Dean Wyatt (1775-?1850), and was built only in 1831-4.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Instead of an imitation of Paris, something vastly more original was created, an
+example of civic design whose full implications are perhaps not wholly digested even
+today. Nash, the former partner of the landscape gardener Humphry Repton (1752-1818),
+in his new Regent Street as well as in his Regent’s Park and its surrounding terraces,
+sought to carry out, not with natural scenery but with urban scenery, the principles
+of Picturesque landscaping. Yet his architectural vocabulary remained well within
+the accepted range of Romantic Classicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Waterloo Place is wholly formal, serving as a sort of forecourt to Carlton House
+when it was laid out in 1815. But going up Lower Regent Street the separate buildings
+erected in 1817-19 were separately designed, to a harmonious scale but with no over-all
+regularity of shape and size. At Piccadilly, first the Circus, also of 1817-19, a circular
+place, and then the Quadrant of 1819-20 took care most ingeniously of a drastic leftward
+shift in axis. A relatively monumental façade, that of the County Fire Office, faced
+the head of Lower Regent Street; the other façades of the Circus were regular and plain
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>in an almost Soanic way (Plate <a href='#pl030'>30</a>). The Quadrant gained great distinction from its
+projecting colonnades of Doric columns (made of cast iron) and from the skilful placing
+of a domed pavilion opposite its western end.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From there on the street, as carried forward in 1820-4, proceeded more directly, but
+with great variety in the individual façades—one terrace of houses over shops (1820-1)
+was by Soane. There were also special pavilioned structures to phrase several slight
+changes in direction and to mark the openings of intersecting streets. At Regent (now
+Oxford) Circus a second circle, similar to that at Piccadilly but elaborated by Nash with
+a Corinthian order, marks a major cross artery. Above this the street continues quite
+straight for a little way; then comes another sharp leftward shift in the axis. There Nash
+placed his All Souls’ Church, which was built in 1822-4. Its curious fluted steeple still
+rises through the colonnade that crowns the tower to provide a pivot by which the eye
+is carried around the sharp corner. Almost at once another right-angled turn leads into
+the broad pre-existing esplanade of Adam’s Portland Place. From here on all is formal
+again as at Waterloo Place.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the upper end, between the top of Portland Place and the Park, was to be a large
+residential circus. Of this only the two southern quadrants were built—one of them the
+earliest portion of the whole scheme, initiated at the very start in 1812. As executed,
+there are above this—for this part of the scheme is all extant—two regular terraces facing
+each other across Park Square.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1813, as has been said, Nash succeeded Wyatt in the Surveyor-General’s office; but
+it was in the role of private entrepreneur rather than as an official that he executed the
+Regent Street scheme, hazarding his own rising fortune and using every device of subleasing
+to carry the project through. This he accomplished in the relatively short period
+of fifteen years, even though the renewal of the war held up execution for several years
+immediately after the start. Of all this nothing remains below Portland Place but the
+planning and All Souls’. However, in the district east of Lower Regent Street, the Royal
+Opera Arcade still exists behind New Zealand House and, much larger and more conspicuous,
+the conventional temple portico of the Haymarket Theatre of 1821 stands at
+the end of what is now Charles II Street.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the base of Waterloo Place, facing the Green Park, the two ranges of Carlton
+House Terrace, built in 1827, still rise above their cast-iron Doric basement colonnades.
+In the lower half of this square, south of Pall Mall, with the two clubs on either side—one
+by Nash, the other by Burton—and the Duke of York’s Column silhouetted against the
+distant scenery of park and Government buildings between the two wings of Carlton
+House Terrace, Nash’s urbanism can still be fully appreciated. The full grandeur of
+Napoleon’s Paris or Alexander I’s Petersburg is lacking, but so also is their archaeology.
+This obviously belongs to the nineteenth century. It establishes, for modern eyes, Nash’s
+capacity as ‘planner’ quite as much as do his terraces around Regent’s Park, as these were
+carried out in 1820-7 by himself and by various younger architects working under his
+general supervision.</p>
+
+<div id='i065'  class='figcenter id004'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>
+<img src='images/i065.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 10. John Nash: London, Regent Street and Regent’s Park, 1812-27, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Curiously enough, the first Regent’s Park terrace, built in 1821 while construction
+was still proceeding in Park Square, was at least nominally by young Decimus Burton
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>(1800-81), the talented son of the builder James Burton, who was as active here in these
+years as in Bloomsbury. Dignified and severe, although not Grecian in detail like the
+handsomer Ionic York Terrace and its flanking Doric villa completed the next year,
+Cornwall Terrace certainly lacks the specifically Nashian qualities. Happily typical of
+Nash’s response to urbanistic opportunities is the way he opened York Gate in the
+middle of York Terrace through to the Marylebone Road in order to incorporate
+visually the new façade provided by Thomas Hardwick (1752-1829) in 1818-19 for the
+Marylebone Parish Church.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sussex Place of 1822, with its curved plan and its ten domes, is much more notably
+Picturesque; but the most spectacular composition of all is Cumberland Terrace, Nash’s
+in general conception, but executed by James Thomson (1800-83) in 1826-7 (Plate <a href='#pl032'>32</a>). This is far more palatial, at least superficially, than the rather humdrum Buckingham
+Palace that Nash was gradually erecting for the King from 1821 on.<a id="r75"></a><a href='#f75' class='c025'><sup>[75]</sup></a> When seen
+through the trees of the park or in sharp perspective from the ring road, this range of
+houses provides a Picturesque three-dimensional composition of a dream-like order—what
+matter if the conventional Classical elements are organized and executed in a very
+slapdash way?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The total scope of the Regent’s Park development provided a ‘New Town’ in a
+rather complete sense inspired possibly by Ledoux’s ‘Ville Idéale’. There were detached
+villas in the park, mews behind the terraces, a market-place to the east, modest two-storey
+houses near by in Munster Square and, finally, the two Park Villages, carried out
+by his protégé Sir James Pennethorne (1801-71) after Nash’s ideas from 1827 on. These
+last are extensions of the Picturesque hamlet, consisting of groups of semi-detached villas
+some of Italianate, some of Tudoresque character, loosely strung along curving roads,
+which provide the very prototype of the later-nineteenth-century suburb.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To most of his professional contemporaries, and not least to his associates on the Board
+of the Office of Works, Soane and Smirke, Nash seemed an opportunist and almost a
+charlatan. He differed as markedly from the archaeologically-minded Smirke as from
+Soane, even if he was as ready to borrow Greek orders from the one as incised detail
+from the other. Despite the independent stylistic position of Soane and of Nash, Britain
+could hardly have produced a line of archaeologist-architects from James Stuart to C. R.
+Cockerell—a line at least as distinguished as the French line from Leroy to Hittorff—without
+developing by this time Greek Revival doctrines quite as rigid and as self-assured as
+those of France and Germany. From the end of the second decade of the century the
+Grecian mode was, indeed, rather more firmly entrenched in Great Britain than anywhere
+on the Continent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The historical importance of Wilkins’s Downing College at Cambridge has already
+been noted. If Wilkins was never able to complete this, so that it remained but a fragment
+of an ideal Grecian college, he had greater opportunities later in London, opportunities
+which on the whole he muffed. His University College of 1827-8 in Gower
+Street impressed contemporaries because its central temple portico ran to <i>ten</i> columns
+in width. It is not otherwise distinguished, and the advancing wings of the quadrangle
+are not by him. His St George’s Hospital at Hyde Park Corner, of the same date,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>is a much more modest building (Plate <a href='#pl031'>31</a>). Yet it already shows some of the restlessness,
+if little of the elaboration, of later Grecian work on the Continent, such as
+Klenze’s Hermitage Museum in Petersburg. The hospital, although the theme of the
+Choragic Monument of Thrasyllus is ingeniously exploited, lacks the delicacy and
+elegance of Decimus Burton’s Ionic screen of 1825 across the way (Plate <a href='#pl031'>31</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The hospital is, however, rather more original than Burton’s nearby Constitution
+Hill Arch, also of 1827-8, now moved back towards the Green Park. This is one of the
+two erected in connexion with the new Buckingham Palace and in conscious rivalry of
+those Napoleon had set up in Paris and other Continental cities. The other one, originally
+forming the entrance to the court of the palace, is Nash’s Marble Arch of 1828;
+that was moved to the corner of Hyde Park where Park Lane meets Oxford Street in
+1851 after the palace was refronted by Blore in the late forties. Neither arch has the
+urbanistic value of Benjamin Dean Wyatt’s Duke of York’s Column or of the Nelson
+Column, erected in 1839 in Trafalgar Square by William Railton (1803-77), because of
+their very casual siting. Apsley House, as remodelled by B. D. Wyatt for the Duke
+of Wellington in 1828, rising too high beside the Burton screen, is not altogether an
+addition to the group at Hyde Park Corner.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wilkins’s largest and most conspicuous work, and the one which ruined his reputation,
+is the National Gallery of 1832-8. The long façade of this, extending across the top
+of Trafalgar Square, is excessively episodic and best seen in sharp perspective looking
+along Pall Mall East or from the south side of St Martin’s-in-the-Fields. The order is not
+Greek, since the columns of the portico Henry Holland (1745-1806) erected in front
+of Carlton House in the early 1790s were re-used, and the little dome behind the central
+pediment is almost Byzantine in character. Comparison of this Picturesque-Classical
+composition with Cumberland Terrace is inevitable; the honours are all Nash’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Wilkins made the first Grecian spurt, it was Soane’s pupil Smirke who held the
+course. In Trafalgar Square the unified range of buildings built in 1824-7 on the west
+side that once housed the Union Club and later the College of Physicians contrasts
+most strikingly with Wilkins’s National Gallery. Heavy, dignified, and immaculately
+‘correct’ in its Greek detailing, this block also shows considerable variety in the handling
+of standard Romantic Classical elements without any such striving for Picturesque effect
+as the National Gallery. Later additions on the west have not seriously damaged
+Smirke’s work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is highly typical that the most considerable Grecian edifice of London should be a
+museum and library. The British Museum, begun by Smirke in 1824, was not completed
+until 1847.<a id="r76"></a><a href='#f76' class='c025'><sup>[76]</sup></a> Its principal internal feature, moreover, the domed Reading Room
+built of cast iron in the central court (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>), was designed and carried out in
+the mid fifties by Smirke’s younger brother Sydney (1798-1877). Only the King’s
+Library was finished rapidly within the twenties to house the library of George III. This
+is dignified and crisp, if somewhat less immaculately correct than Smirke’s façade in
+Trafalgar Square.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The characteristic south front of the Museum, one of the most overwhelming
+examples of Romantic Classical stylophily, or love of columns—there are forty-eight of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>them—was one of the last portions of the whole to be completed (Plate <a href='#pl033'>33</a>). The great
+temple portico and the colonnade that is carried round the inner sides and the ends of the
+flanking wings was probably not decided on until the thirties; such a redundancy of
+columns seems to belong well into the second quarter of the century—compare Elmes’s
+St George’s Hall in Liverpool (Plate <a href='#pl034a'>34<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) or Basevi’s Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge.
+The façade of Smirke’s General Post Office of 1824-9, with columns used only at the
+centre and the ends, and two ranges of good-sized windows between, was more characteristic
+of the usual Romantic Classical balance between columnar display and rationalistic
+provision for internal function.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wilkins and Smirke were not alone in providing Grecian public buildings for the
+London of George IV. The London Corn Exchange of 1827-8 by George Smith (1783-1869)
+was an excellent example, less heavy than most of Smirke’s work, less inconsequent
+than Wilkins’s. Decimus Burton, who provided various gatehouses at Hyde Park
+as well as the screen at Hyde Park Corner in 1825—the modest ones at Prince’s Gate
+are almost identical with Schinkel’s tiny Doric temples at the Potsdamer Tor in Berlin—also
+provided the finest façade in Waterloo Place when he built the Athenaeum there in
+1829-30. This clubhouse is severe and astylar externally but grand and sumptuous within
+to a degree hitherto unknown. Henry Roberts (1803-76), a Smirke assistant, followed
+his former master closely in the design of the Fishmongers’ Hall built in 1831-3. His
+great Ionic portico rises as splendidly above the solid substructure that flanks the Thames
+as Klenze’s Walhalla does above its stepped terraces.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Corporate clients that came to the fore in the thirties saw in the solemn Grecian mode
+the best means of achieving representational monumentality in their buildings; moreover,
+they were increasingly ready to employ leading architects in order to obtain it.
+C. R. Cockerell (1788-1863), the son of S. P. Cockerell, soon to be Soane’s successor as
+Architect of the Bank of England, began his distinguished career as a favourite servant of
+the financial world by providing the Westminster Insurance Office in the Strand in 1832
+with a range of Doric half-columns. Five years later, in the London and Westminster
+Bank in Lothbury, he attained a still greater effect of dignified restraint, with no loss of
+sumptuousness, in an astylar façade of great originality.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The new railways, whose earliest stations had been very modest indeed, were as interested
+as insurance companies and banks in the representational dignity of Classical
+frontispieces. At Euston Grove in London, before what was intended to be a double
+station planned by the engineer Robert Stephenson (1803-59)[5<sup>a</sup>] in 1835 to serve the London
+&amp; Birmingham and the Great Western Railways, there rose from the designs of Philip
+Hardwick (1792-1870) the Euston ‘Arch’, a giant Greek Doric propylaeon; for the
+Birmingham terminal of the railway at Curzon Street Hardwick provided a second
+gateway that is more in the form of a Roman triumphal arch. This theme John Foster
+(1786-1846) expanded into a continuous Roman screen in front of Lime Street Station
+at Liverpool in 1836. At Huddersfield James P. Pritchett (1789-1868) and his son Charles
+fronted the main station block in 1845-9 with a Roman temple portico and flanked it
+with minor colonnaded features. The Monkwearmouth station by John Dobson (1787-1865)
+of 1848 is similar, but Grecian in its detailing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>More appropriate to modern eyes was the endless red-brick façade designed by
+Francis Thompson for Robert Stephenson’s Trijunct Station in Derby of 1839-41.
+This was astylar but had various subtle projections and recessions of the wall plane
+and a comparable variety of levels in the very long skyline. Thompson also, in the
+stone towers he designed for Stephenson’s Britannia Bridge of 1845-50, handled his
+material with a superbly rational directness (Plate <a href='#pl061'>61</a>). The technical significance of
+such structures as examples of the new uses of iron which the railways encouraged, must
+be considered later (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). Of comparable quality to Thompson’s work is the
+enormous Royal Navy Victualling Yard at Stonehouse of 1826-35 by the engineer Sir
+John Rennie (1794-1874)—able son, like Robert Stephenson, of a more famous engineer
+father and also a brother-in-law of C. R. Cockerell. Despite the severity characteristic
+of the period, this has an almost Baroque plasticity and vigour of silhouette rarely
+achieved by contemporary architects before the mid-century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Except for certain large provincial and suburban Nonconformist churches, the heyday
+of the temple portico came to an end about 1840. The last prominent example in
+London is the Royal Exchange, built by Sir William Tite (1798-1873) in 1841-4, but
+there is nothing Classical about other aspects of this prominent structure. The side, rear,
+and court façades are in a sort of Neo-Baroque that prefigures the bombast of the third
+quarter of the century (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Grecian public monuments were as characteristic of provincial cities in the twenties
+and thirties as of London, perhaps more so. Francis Goodwin (1784-1835)<a id="r77"></a><a href='#f77' class='c025'><sup>[77]</sup></a> provided
+Manchester with a handsome town hall in 1822-4, now long since superseded. In the
+latter year he lost the competition for the new Royal Institution there to the young
+Charles Barry (1795-1860), hitherto most unsympathetically employed in building
+cheap Gothic churches for the Commissioners.<a id="r78"></a><a href='#f78' class='c025'><sup>[78]</sup></a> This edifice Barry erected over the
+years 1827-35. Happily it still stands, serving as the Manchester Art Gallery, an excellent
+example of Barry’s command of that Grecian idiom which his more personal Italianate
+mode forced into obsolescence even before this building was finished (see below).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1828 Foster began the fine Grecian Custom House in Liverpool, completely destroyed,
+alas, in the blitz; while in 1831 Joseph A. Hansom (1803-82) won the competition
+for the Birmingham Town Hall with the most striking British example of
+the temple paradigm. This characteristic Romantic Classical edifice, raised on a high
+rusticated podium, was slowly executed by Hansom and his partner Edward Welch
+(1806-68) over the next fifteen years and more.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The more widespread the use of Greek forms became, the less vitality and character
+they seemed to retain. It is not the columnar detail, so much more correct than that at
+Regent’s Park, which gives interest to the terraces—built from the twenties on—that
+George Basevi (1794-1845) designed for Belgrave Square in London or to those of
+slightly later date designed by Lewis Cubitt (1799-?) and by John Young in Eaton
+Square; it is the remarkable scale and extent of this newest urban development, rivalling
+that at Regent’s Park, which was undertaken by the builder Thomas Cubitt (1788-1855),
+Lewis’s brother, for the Grosvenor Estate behind the gardens of Buckingham Palace.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So also at Newcastle, where Thomas Grainger (1798-1861), with the presumptive
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>assistance of Dobson<a id="r79"></a><a href='#f79' class='c025'><sup>[79]</sup></a> as designer, laid out and built up a series of streets from 1834 on,
+it is not the more correctly Greek orders that make Grey Street a finer piece of urbanism
+than Nash’s Regent Street; it is the fine, creamy freestone that replaces London’s
+stucco and the skilful organization of the ranges of buildings, all so much more carefully
+grouped and related to one another than in Regent Street, along the curving and rising
+slope. The Grey Column, built by John Green (?-1852) in 1837-8, is superbly placed in
+the best manner of the period as a focal accent at the top of the development just like
+the Duke of York’s Column at the bottom of Lower Regent Street. The cleaning of
+many buildings has of late much enhanced the attractiveness of central Newcastle.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not until the early forties that Greek Revival buildings began to be characterized
+by contemporaries as ‘insipid’. But Basevi’s façade of the Fitzwilliam Museum in
+Cambridge, begun in 1837 and carried to completion with some emendations by C. R.
+Cockerell in 1847 after Basevi’s death, well illustrates some of the changes that were
+already coming over Romantic Classical design. As at Wilkins’s National Gallery, the
+silhouette is elaborately varied—here much more skilfully than in Trafalgar Square. As
+with Tite’s Royal Exchange, there is also a most un-Grecian sort of plastic bombast. The
+orders are not Grecian but Roman, moreover, and the spirit is more Roman still, but
+Roman of the later Empire in the East, as at Baalbek or Palmyra.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>St George’s Hall in Liverpool, the latest of the major Romantic Classical monuments
+of England, was finished like the Fitzwilliam by C. R. Cockerell long after its original
+designer’s death. It displays much less bombast and much more true grandeur of scale.
+The young Harvey Lonsdale Elmes (1814-49) won two successive competitions, for a
+Hall and for Law Courts, in 1839 and 1840 respectively. Then, when it was decided to
+combine the two in one structure, he paid a visit to Berlin to study the work of Schinkel.
+Schinkelesque, indeed, is the long colonnade facing Lime Street Station, and even more
+so the curious square piers, free-standing in their upper half, that Elmes used elsewhere
+on the building (Plate <a href='#pl034a'>34<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The temple portico at the south end is conventional enough, but with its steps boldly
+raised above a massively plain foundation wall; the rounded end to the north is much
+more original and also rather French in feeling. French surely, but of the Empire rather
+than the contemporary July Monarchy, is the tremendous scale of the whole and the
+stately axial planning of the sort to be seen in many Prix de Rome projects of the preceding
+fifty years. The great hall is slightly larger than its prototype in the Baths of
+Caracalla.<a id="r80"></a><a href='#f80' class='c025'><sup>[80]</sup></a> As completed by Cockerell in the early fifties, the interior lost all the Grecian
+severity of the exterior. Together with the elegant elliptical concert hall, planned by
+Elmes but entirely executed by Cockerell, the great hall belongs to the next period of
+architectural development as much by its rich decoration as by its date.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was in Scotland, not in England, that the Greek Revival had its greatest success and
+lasted longest. There seems to have been some special congruity of sentiment between
+Northern Europe in the first half of the nineteenth century and the ancient world.
+Edinburgh, which considered itself for intellectual reasons the ‘Athens of the North’,
+set out after 1810 to continue in a more Athenian mode the extension and embellishment
+of her New Town begun in the 1760s. The result rivals Petersburg as well as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>Copenhagen, Berlin, and Munich. Indeed, in Edinburgh, what was built between 1760
+and 1860 provides still the most extensive example of a Romantic Classical city in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the architecture of Edinburgh is largely Classical—the most conspicuous exceptions
+are the inherited medieval Castle on its rock at the head of the Old Town and the Walter
+Scott Monument in Prince’s Street Gardens—the setting is extremely Picturesque.
+The fullest scenic advantage was taken of the castle-crowned hill, above the filled-in and
+landscaped North Loch, and of the two heights to the east and the south-east, Calton Hill
+and Arthur’s Seat. The latter was kept quite clear of buildings, the former gradually
+turned into a sort of Scottish Akropolis. Perhaps fortunately, the largest structure there,
+the National Monument, a copy of the Parthenon by C. R. Cockerell and the local architect
+W. H. Playfair (1789-1857), was never finished; thus it appears to be a ruin and
+adds to the Picturesque effect of this terminus to the eastward view along Prince’s Street.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Calton Hill is approached, and the view of it framed, by Waterloo Place, the buildings
+of which were erected by Archibald Elliott (1763-1823) in 1815-19. This is no
+unworthy rival of the homonymous square in London, despite the lack of a central
+column. The view had to remain open to the hill beyond, where Playfair’s Observatory
+was rising in 1814-18 and later, in 1830, the Choragic Monument by Thomas Hamilton
+(1785-1858) dedicated to that very un-Grecian poet Robert Burns, as well as various
+other objects of visual interest. In St Andrew’s Square in the New Town, however, is
+the Melville Column. This was built by William Burn (1789-1870) in 1821-2 and based,
+like the Colonne Vendôme in Paris, on that of Trajan.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These Scottish architects were perhaps more fortunate than Dobson in the material
+available to them; Edinburgh’s Craigleith stone becomes with time a rather deep grey,
+but not so black as that in Newcastle when left uncleaned. Seen in Playfair’s terraces,
+executed gradually from 1820 to 1860, which run around the base of Calton Hill on the
+south, east, and north, the effect may be rather dour; but the dignity and solidity of these
+Grecian ranges, rivalled in the contemporary circuses on the slopes to the north of the
+eighteenth-century New Town, are undeniably impressive.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From the completion of his Observatory in 1814 to the completion of the Scottish
+National Gallery forty years later Playfair continued to ornament Edinburgh with
+Classical (and on occasion with non-Classical) structures. Looking south along the cross-axis
+of the new Town, one sees just beyond Prince’s Street his Royal Scottish Institution
+begun in 1822, its rather massive Doric bulk happily crowned just after its completion
+in 1836 by the seated figure of the young Queen Victoria (Plate <a href='#pl034b'>34<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Behind this lies his
+Ionic National Gallery of 1850-4, which is not unworthy of comparison with Smirke’s
+British Museum begun more than a quarter of a century earlier. High to the rear, on the
+slopes of the Old Town, rise the two towers of the Free Church College, also by Playfair
+and begun in 1846, framing with their crisp Tudorish forms the richer and more
+graceful spire (sometimes attributed to Pugin) of Tolbooth St John’s, which was built
+by James Gillespie Graham in 1843.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Finer than any individual work of Playfair’s, and splendidly sited on the south side of
+Calton Hill, is the High School by Thomas Hamilton (1784-1858). Begun in 1825, this
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>complex Grecian composition shows how well the lessons of the Athenian Propylaea
+were learned by Scottish architects. More original, but still essentially Grecian, is
+Hamilton’s Hall of Physicians in Queen Street of 1844-5.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Banking was not far behind State and Church as a patron of monumental architecture
+in Scotland. Before the astylar <i>palazzo</i> mode took over the financial scene, two
+banks grander than any in London had been erected in the Edinburgh New Town. The
+Commercial Bank of Scotland of 1846 in George Street by David Rhind (1808-83),
+despite its pedimented portico, is no longer Greek in detail; the British Linen Bank of
+1852 in St Andrew’s Square by David Bryce (1803-76), more plastically Roman still,
+has giant detached columns upholding bold entablature blocks, an idea deriving from
+C. R. Cockerell’s rejected competition design for the Royal Exchange in London.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As the earlier mention of Thomson’s churches in Glasgow will have indicated, the
+Greek Revival lasted even longer there than in Edinburgh. But such edifices as the
+Royal Exchange of 1829-30 by David Hamilton (1768-1843) or Clarke &amp; Bell’s Municipal
+and County Buildings of 1844 do not rival the work of Playfair and of the other
+Hamilton in the capital; nor is there in Glasgow much good urbanism of this period.
+In his domestic work Thomson remained closer to the conventional norms of the Greek
+Revival than in his churches. However, in Moray Place, Strathbungo, of 1859, where
+he lived himself, he produced the finest of all Grecian terraces (Plate <a href='#pl035a'>35<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and, still later,
+in Great Western Terrace an ampler if less original composition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In England the Greek Revival was barely established as the dominant mode in the
+twenties before it was challenged. Barry, as has been noted earlier, began his career with
+the building of cheap Commissioners’ Gothic churches, but his favourite mode was the
+Renaissance Revival. We have seen that in Germany the Renaissance Revival may be
+considered to begin with Klenze’s Munich work of the mid twenties. Now, in 1827-8,
+Barry built the Brunswick Chapel, later St Andrew’s, at Hove in a <i>quattrocento</i> mode—the
+exterior, that is, for the modest interior can hardly be thus characterized, and in its
+present form includes various changes since Barry’s time. The façade looks rather nineteenth-century
+French to modern eyes; yet comparable French churches, such as
+Lequeux’s Saint-Jacques-Saint-Christophe in Paris, are mostly from five to fifteen years
+later (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>). Barry doubtless turned to some of the available French publications
+on the Italian Renaissance for his detail, most probably to the <i>Architecture toscane</i>
+of Grandjean de Montigny and Famin, but he certainly did not derive the design of his
+church from current Continental practice.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Following immediately upon the Brunswick Chapel, Barry built for Thomas Attree
+of Brighton a symmetrical Italian Villa, now the Xavierian College, with an architectural
+garden setting. This was part of a scheme, otherwise unexecuted, for surrounding
+Queen’s Park, east of the town, with a range of detached houses, some Italianate,
+some Tudoresque, in an extensive suburban development of the order of Nash’s only
+slightly earlier Park Villages. The intended effect can best be seen in Decimus Burton’s
+Calverley Estate at Tunbridge Wells carried out over the years 1828 to 1852.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far more important, however, was the fact that Barry in 1829 won with a <i>palazzo</i>
+composition the competition for the new Travellers’ Club. This was built in Pall Mall
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>in the next two years beside the prominent corner site where Burton’s astylar but still
+Grecian Athenaeum was rising. Raphaelesque on the front—although not as derivative
+from Raphael’s Pandolfini Palace in Florence as was claimed at the time—but rather
+Venetian on the rear, this clubhouse notably eschews the flat barrenness and the giant
+orders of the Grecian mode to throw emphasis on the elegant aedicular treatment of the
+windows and the bold <i>cornicione</i> which crowns the top (Plate <a href='#pl035b'>35<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Very soon Charles Fowler (1791-1867), who owned the copy of Durand’s treatise
+now in the Library of the Royal Institute of British Architects, was introducing a more
+utilitarian sort of Italianism in the Hungerford Market in London of 1831-3, now long
+gone, and in the Lower Market at Exeter of 1835-6. There the Durandesque and almost
+basilican interiors, destroyed in 1942, contrasted markedly with the Greek Doric detailing
+of the façade of his Upper Market of 1837-8.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1836 Barry designed a larger edifice of the <i>palazzo</i> type, the Manchester Athenaeum
+built in 1837-9. But this was overshadowed in size, in prominence, and in quality
+by the new Reform Club next door to the Travellers’ in Pall Mall; for this he won the
+competition in 1837, and it was built in 1838-40 (Plate <a href='#pl035b'>35<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Here his model was obviously
+San Gallo’s Farnese Palace in Rome. But there are many differences such as the
+unaccented entrance, the balustrade which sets the façades back from the pavement, the
+simpler and more San Gallesque top storey, the corner emphasis provided by prominent
+chimneys, not to speak of the metal-and-glass roofing of the central court.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Barry’s two Pall Mall clubs provided architectural paradigms much followed through
+the forties and well into the third quarter of the century. Moreover, W. H. Leeds (1786-1866),
+in the text of a monograph on the <i>Travellers’ Club-House</i> published in 1839,
+developed at some length the arguments for a Renaissance Revival. A little less evidently
+than the Continental work of these years in Renaissance modes, but none the less truly,
+Barry’s <i>palazzi</i> represent a continuation of Romantic Classicism. In the block-like
+unity of the external masses, the regularity of the fenestration, and the extreme orderliness
+of the planning his <i>palazzo</i> mode is at least as characteristic an aspect of later Romantic
+Classicism in Great Britain as is the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> on the Continent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is considerably less true of two other directions in which Barry first turned in the
+thirties. It would be premature, however, to discuss here the design with which Barry
+won the competition for the new Houses of Parliament in 1836 (Plate <a href='#pl054'>54</a>). As the first
+major public monument to be designed anywhere in Gothic this constituted above all an
+epoch-making step in the English revolt <i>against</i> Romantic Classicism (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is not so much the case with Barry’s first and only important essay in the ‘Jacobethan’
+mode—or the Anglo-Italian as he preferred to call it—the remodelling of
+Highclere Castle in Hampshire, proposed as early as 1837 and carried out over the next
+two decades (Plate <a href='#pl037a'>37<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Despite the Picturesque effect of its towered and bristling silhouette,
+this great country house rigidly maintains the quadrangular plan of the Reform Club
+and is almost as regular as that in composition, and even more coldly crisp in its detailing.
+Much the same can be said of Mentmore House in Buckinghamshire, built by Sir
+Joseph Paxton (1803-65) in 1852-4 in a very similar vein but more directly derived from
+Smithson’s Elizabethan Wollaton Hall near Nottingham. In general, however, the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>extremely popular Jacobethan Revival of these years, even more than the contemporary
+revival of the <i>style François I</i> in France, represents a reaction not merely against the Greek
+Revival, as does the <i>palazzo</i> mode, but against the basic disciplines of Romantic Classicism
+and was one of the major stylistic vehicles of the later Picturesque.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the other hand, the utilization of pre-Gothic medieval forms in England in this
+period, so closely similar in its result to the Romanesquoid aspect of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>,
+seems to have been only partly Picturesque in intention. From the twenties on a very
+considerable number of churches, mostly small, had Norman Romanesque detail, but
+usually there was little or no attempt to break away from the hall-like tradition of the
+Late Georgian church in their plans. However, three rather large churches that are
+early medieval in inspiration but not Norman in detail deserve particular mention, for
+they are among the finest, though not the most historically significant, built in Britain
+in the early forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>St Mary and St Nicholas’s, Wilton, built by T. H. Wyatt (1807-80) and David Brandon
+(1813-97) in 1840-6 for Sydney Herbert and his Russian mother, might almost
+have risen in the Prussia or the Baden of this period. However, this Italian Romanesque
+basilica, with tall, detached campanile and rich internal polychromy of Cosmati-work
+brought from Italy, is rather more archaeological than Persius’s or Hübsch’s churches in
+Germany. On the other hand, the so much more original Christ Church of 1840-2 in
+Streatham, south of London, by J. W. Wild (1814-92) is so similar to Prussian work
+that some knowledge on Wild’s part of Schinkel’s suburban-church projects of a decade
+earlier might almost be assumed (Plate <a href='#pl036'>36</a>). Although the exposed yellow brickwork
+and the touches of external brick polychromy are notably premonitory of the next
+period, the splendid obelisk-like campanile and the crisp ranges of clerestory windows,
+for all their pointed tops, are quite as much within the range of Romantic Classicism as
+the German churches that this recalls. The handling of the galleries of the interior had
+local precedent in Soane’s churches of the twenties as well as in Schinkel’s of the
+thirties. Although the barrel vaults are presumably only of plaster, St Jude’s, Bethnal
+Green, in London, built by Henry Clutton (1819-93) in 1844-6, has an impressive cruciform
+interior. The exterior here is notably Germanic with two thin towers flanking the
+great polygonal apse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But these three churches, for all their individual excellence, are exceptional in England.
+They are related to the broad contemporary current of the Renaissance Revival
+that Barry had set under way only in rejecting Grecian sanctions even more completely
+than he. Barry was himself too versatile ever quite to repeat the strict <i>palazzo</i> formula of
+the Reform Club, although he almost came to that in the British Embassy in Istanbul of
+1845-7. For this he provided sketches as early as 1842 and later emended the plans of the
+local executant architect, W. J. Smith. This structure, carrying the Renaissance Revival
+to, or even beyond, one edge of the western world as Grandjean de Montigny did to
+Rio de Janeiro at the other edge, is considerably larger than the Reform Club and rather
+bleak, though splendidly sited and very dignified indeed. At Bridgewater House in
+London of 1847-57, however, Barry enriched the <i>palazzo</i> paradigm quite considerably,
+not only by the introduction of a good deal of carved work but also by breaking the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>continuity of the garden front towards the Park in order to emphasize the end bays. This
+personal compositional device is even more conspicuous on the river front of his Gothic
+Houses of Parliament.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was for clubhouses and business buildings that Renaissance models were most
+generally used in England after 1840. For the remodelling of the Carlton Club in 1847
+Sydney Smirke, who had provided the winning design in a select competition, based
+himself, not on San Gallo’s Farnese Palace in sixteenth-century Rome as Barry had done
+at the Reform Club next door, but on Sansovino’s Library in sixteenth-century Venice.
+Before this was finished in the mid fifties, C. Octavius Parnell (?-1865) and his partner
+Alfred Smith had erected across Pall Mall in 1848-51 the Army and Navy Club based
+on Sansovino’s Palazzo Corner della Cà Grande. Both are now gone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But if these architects in London were moving in the late forties towards an altogether
+richer and more plastic sort of High Renaissance design, from which almost all
+traces of the cold asceticism of Romantic Classicism had departed, most provincial architects
+were content to stick fairly close to the Farnese Palace model of the Reform Club
+well down into the sixties. This was most notably true in the design of edifices for financial
+institutions. In 1840 George Alexander (?-1884), who had made his own study of the
+<i>cinquecento</i> in Italy, designed the Savings Bank in Bath as a little Reform Club; the next
+year in the Brunswick Buildings in Liverpool A. &amp; G. Williams applied the formula to
+a much larger block of general offices. Henceforth the mode was solidly established for
+almost a generation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Barry usually gave a characteristically Italian Villa bent to the many country houses
+that he remodelled by introducing a tall loggia-topped tower (used to store water for
+the more elaborate sanitation now demanded) placed asymmetrically at one side of the
+main block. The first of these was at Trentham Park, near Stoke-on-Trent, where a
+second later rose in the stable court; the finest are those at Walton House near London
+of 1837 and at Shrubland in Norfolk of 1848-50. In these the inherited Georgian blocks
+became subordinate parts of rich three-dimensional compositions almost like the villas
+that Schinkel and Persius built at Potsdam. The rebuilding of Osborne House as a
+country retreat for Queen Victoria on the Isle of Wight gave Royal sanction to the
+Italian Villa mode. Unfortunately she did not employ Barry; the work was done in
+1845-6 and 1847-9 by the builder Thomas Cubitt and the design was dictated, if not
+actually prepared, by Prince Albert.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the continued use of Greek forms for certain purposes and in some areas, the
+controls of Romantic Classicism were loosening rapidly in Great Britain in the forties.
+A real change of style was at hand; but since certain stylisms, such as the conventional
+use of Renaissance forms, tended to continue indefinitely, it is hard to know just
+where to draw the line chronologically.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Geological Museum in Piccadilly in London, built in the late forties by Pennethorne,
+Nash’s protégé and his successor at the Office of Works, was far more successful
+than the ballroom wing he added in the early fifties to Buckingham Palace. Even that,
+however, was a considerable improvement on the curious façade—more Neo-Baroque
+than Neo-Renaissance—with which Edward Blore (1787-1879) masked the front of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>Nash’s edifice in 1847. The Museum was more successful precisely because its exteriors retained
+the regularity and severity characteristic of Romantic Classicism. Still later, the Free
+Trade Hall built by Edward Walters (1808-72) in Manchester in 1853-6 followed the
+lusher Sansovinesque Italianism of Smirke’s Carlton Club, while his many handsome
+warehouses there moved ever farther away from the severity of Barry’s Athenaeum
+despite their generic <i>palazzo</i> character. Yet the Corn Exchange in Leeds, erected as late
+as 1860 by Cuthbert Brodrick (1825-1905), is still Romantic Classical in the cool regularity
+of its diamond-rusticated walls broken only by ranges of plain arches (Plate <a href='#pl037b'>37<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There can be little question, however, that his Town Hall in Leeds of 1855-9, despite
+the reiterative grandeur of its giant colonnades and the evident derivation of its principal
+interior from St George’s Hall in Liverpool, is in English terms definitely ‘High Victorian’
+(Plate <a href='#pl078a'>78<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). If the Corn Exchange can hardly be considered typically Early Victorian
+in character, and in any case is some ten years too late in date, it might almost
+be called <i>Louis Philippe</i>, so close is it to some French work of the 40s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Run-of-the-mill English railway stations of the forties, mostly designed by engineers
+and minor architects, clearly rank in their dullness with the most utilitarian French work
+of that decade. They indicate to what depths of conventionality late Romantic Classicism
+in England had sunk by this time. Yet Lewis Cubitt’s long-demolished Bricklayers’
+Arms Station in London of 1842-4, with its entrance screen compounded of rustic
+Italian elements derived from the books of Charles Parker,<a id="r81"></a><a href='#f81' class='c025'><sup>[81]</sup></a> seems to have had considerable
+plastic interest. Moreover, the great plain arches at the front of his King’s
+Cross Station of 1850-2 (Plate <a href='#pl066a'>66<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) remain to signalize to every traveller a masterpiece
+of the period more than worthy of comparison with Duquesney’s somewhat earlier
+Gare de l’Est in Paris (Plate <a href='#pl022b'>22<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the whole, however, for all that King’s Cross is one of the major
+late monuments of the rationalistic side of Romantic Classicism, it is
+better to consider railway stations in relation to their sheds of iron
+and glass, technically, that is, rather than stylistically
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). They illustrate especially well something which the
+stylistic preoccupations of the first half of the nineteenth century
+tended to mask from most contemporaries, the success with which new
+functional needs were satisfied in this period by the bold use of new
+materials and new types of construction.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet the most characteristic monuments of Romantic Classicism in Europe after those
+prime urbanistic symbols of Napoleonic or counter-Napoleonic triumph, the arches,
+the columns, and the obelisks that rose in all the great cities from Petersburg to Madrid,
+are the museums and libraries, starting with Soane’s Dulwich Gallery, begun in 1811,
+and ending with Labrouste’s Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, opened in 1850. These are
+useful, yes; moreover, they serve what were effectively new purposes, purposes closely
+related to the rising ideal of providing cultural opportunities for the general public. On
+the whole, however, they could be carried out—and so they usually were down to
+Labrouste’s library—with established methods of construction; while their cultural
+significance—and in the case of the sculpture galleries from Klenze’s Glyptothek, begun
+in 1816, to Bindesbøll’s Thorwaldsen Museum, opened in 1848, their very contents—seemed
+to justify, if not indeed to demand, the use of Greek or Roman forms.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>
+  <h2 id='ch05' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 5</span><br />THE NEW WORLD</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>In</span> varying degree Romantic Classicism left its mark on all the major cities of Europe.
+Paris without the Napoleonic monuments that Louis Philippe brought to completion is
+inconceivable, while Karlsruhe, Munich, Petersburg, and Edinburgh owe most of their
+architectural interest to this period.</p>
+<p class='c010'>In the New World, where the independence of the principal colonies of the European
+nations, British, Spanish, and Portuguese, was generally established in this period or just
+before it, one might expect that Romantic Classicism would have made a still more conspicuous
+contribution to the architectural scene. Yet the very youth of most of the
+countries of the New World, settled though many of them had been in the sixteenth and
+seventeenth centuries, and also the strong cultural links that they still maintained with
+the ancient traditions of their several homelands, tended to hold them back from
+entering fully into the new international movement of the day in architecture. What
+national libraries, moreover, were yet needed in Venezuela or Colombia, what sculpture
+galleries in the American Middle West? Columns and obelisks, if not triumphal
+arches, rose—frequently very belatedly—to celebrate national heroes of the various wars
+of independence; but outside the eastern United States the still very simple organization
+of society and the primitive means of transport required neither the institutional edifices
+of France—markets, hospitals, and prisons—nor the new railway stations of England.<a id="r82"></a><a href='#f82' class='c025'><sup>[82]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet in the United States, and not alone along the eastern seaboard, the period of
+Romantic Classicism left a very rich architectural deposit. The monuments of real distinction
+range all the way from such a church as Latrobe’s Catholic Cathedral in Baltimore
+(Plate <a href='#pl005'>5</a>), one of the very finest ecclesiastical edifices of the first half of the century
+to be seen anywhere, to Haviland’s Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia of
+1823-35, the first to be planned on the radial cellular system (Figure <a href='#i079'>11</a>). Studied and
+published by the English penologist William Crawford as well as by Demetz and
+Blouet,<a id="r83"></a><a href='#f83' class='c025'><sup>[83]</sup></a> this provided a new functional concept for penal architecture influential abroad
+from the time that Gilbert projected his Nouvelle Force Prison in the late thirties. Haviland’s
+prison was Castellated like Lebas’s Petite Roquette, not Grecian in detail; his New
+York prison of 1836-8, however, was Egyptian in detail, to which it owed its curious
+nickname, ‘The Tombs’. That both Latrobe and Haviland were English-born and
+English-trained is certainly significant; the latter, who was a cousin of the painter
+Haydon and a pupil of H. L. Elmes’s father James (1782-1862), had first tried his luck
+in Petersburg.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The characteristic and almost universal use of Grecian forms in domestic building,
+however, in many parts of the country continuing down to the Civil War of 1861-5,
+was the result of no foreign influence. Moreover, the Grecian details were not drawn by
+most architects and builders from the great basic treatise of Stuart and Revett, available
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>in America only to a very few, but at second hand from the local Builders’ Guides<a id="r84"></a><a href='#f84' class='c025'><sup>[84]</sup></a>
+prepared by Haviland in Philadelphia, Asher Benjamin (1773-1845) in Boston, Minard
+Lafever (1798-1854) in New York, and various others. Such authors consciously Americanized
+what they borrowed from European sources in order to adapt Classical masonry
+forms to the ubiquitous wooden construction of the American countryside.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There are two levels of Romantic Classicism in America. Work of the upper professional
+level is found chiefly in the big eastern cities where architects operated who were
+either themselves foreign-born and foreign-trained or else pupils and emulators of such.
+The lower vernacular level is more conspicuous in America than in Europe because it
+includes a much greater proportion of building production than in older countries,
+where so many structures of earlier periods remain extant. ‘Carpenter’s Grecian’, so to
+call it, represents the perhaps naïve, but culturally significant, determination of all who
+built to exploit, in some degree at least, the modern style of their day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The frontiersman in the Oregon of 1850 when raising a tavern in the Willamette
+Valley thus shared with the new and old royalties of Europe the satisfaction of architectural
+patronage. Moreover, like so many English gentlemen of the eighteenth century
+or such a nineteenth-century prince as Frederick William IV, he often took a hand
+at design himself. In this he was assisted by memories of the relatively settled towns he
+had left behind in the Middle West, themselves largely products of this period architecturally,
+and also by the Builders’ Guides issuing from the east in recurrent editions.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not alone the transient patronage of a Corsican soldier, for a few brief years
+heir to Louis XIV and overlord of Europe, nor the Building Committee of an autocrat
+on the banks of the Neva controlling all public and private architecture in an Imperial
+capital for a quarter of a century, that really established Romantic Classicism as the last
+universal style before that of our own day. It is the fact that Boston architects and
+builders, when Quincy granite (that most perfect of Romantic Classical building
+materials) became readily available in the mid twenties, arrived at a rational sort of
+trabeated design as distinguished as Schinkel’s; while three thousand miles to the west,
+and a quarter of a century later, amateur builders working in wood produced almost
+the same sort of ‘pilastrades’, simplified well beyond the Americanized paradigms of
+Greek antae they found in the plates of Asher Benjamin’s books, as Schinkel had in
+Berlin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Grecian writ ran far south to Buenos Aires in Latin America, where the broad
+portico of the cathedral, designed by the French engineer Prosper Catelin and built in
+1822, follows closely Grand Prix designs of the 1790s; and deep into the Antipodes as
+well where Australia moved like the United States into nationhood and into the Greek
+Revival at much the same time, but at a slower pace and with less sophistication.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Washington, as the greatest fiat city of the period, might well have been, rather than
+Edinburgh, the Romantic Classical city <i>par excellence</i>. Even so, as it was laid out by a
+French engineer in the 1790s the prototype of its plan was not the Baroque city but the
+French hunting park. And L’Enfant envisaged for it no walled-in streets and squares but
+rather the isolated block-like structures that once stood around his ‘circles’ as some still
+stand around Fischer’s Karolinenplatz in Munich. In Washington, moreover, from 1803
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>when Jefferson made him Surveyor of Public Buildings until 1817, Latrobe generally
+had his headquarters; there his pupil Mills became Government Architect and Engineer
+in 1836, retaining the post until 1851.</p>
+
+<div id='i079'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i079.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 11. John Haviland: Philadelphia, Eastern Penitentiary, 1823-35, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The great monuments of the thirties still stand in Washington, mostly designed by
+Mills himself at the peak of his career. But at the Capitol (Plate <a href='#pl082a'>82<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), rising at the head
+of the main axis of the city, the Romantic Classical elements of the edifice completed in
+1827 by Bulfinch are now all but invisible between and below the wings and the dome
+added after 1851 by Thomas U. Walter (1804-87). Hoban’s White House, moreover,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>on the cross axis, remains, despite its restoration by Latrobe after the War of 1812
+and two twentieth-century campaigns of enlargement and reconstruction, a quite
+Anglo-Palladian—indeed, almost Gibbsian—work. These focal edifices largely belie
+the Romantic Classical ideals so boldly epitomized in the tallest of all nineteenth-century
+obelisks, Mills’s Washington Monument. This was designed in 1833, begun in
+1848, and not completed until 1884, when T. L. Casey, an Army engineer, sharpened
+the pitch of the pyramidon and crowned it with solid aluminium.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Immediately beside the White House, however, the Grecian granite of Mills’s
+Treasury (Plate <a href='#pl038a'>38<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), worthy of Playfair if not of Schinkel, is overshadowed by the
+former State, War and Navy Department Building with its tremendous Second
+Empire plasticity (Plate <a href='#pl082b'>82<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Begun in 1836, when Mills received his official appointment,
+the Treasury was largely completed by 1842; the west wing was added by Isaiah
+Rogers (1800-69) in 1862-5 following the original design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mills’s career got under way decades before he was called to Washington (see Chapter
+1). Churches in Philadelphia, Richmond, and Baltimore occupied him first, of which
+the most notable is the octagonal Monumental Church in Richmond begun in 1812.
+This is an austere structure with a strongly geometrical organization of the elements,
+but much less suave and refined than Latrobe’s Baltimore Cathedral. Polygonal planning
+also gives original character to his Insane Asylum of 1821-5 in Columbia, S.C.;
+but this has, at the front, a giant Greek Doric portico such as was just becoming even
+more conventional in America than in Europe at this time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In an age so monumentally-minded it was a much earlier work, for which Mills won
+the competition in 1814, the monument erected in honour of Washington at Baltimore
+in 1815-29, that first made his national reputation. This was the first giant column to be
+erected in the New World. Superbly placed on a square podium of almost Egyptian
+severity at the centre of cruciform Mt Vernon Place, this Doric shaft is one of the most
+effective of the many that this period produced, even if it lacks the megalomaniac scale
+of his later obelisk in Washington. Mills claimed credit also for proposing the obelisk
+form for the Bunker Hill Monument<a id="r85"></a><a href='#f85' class='c025'><sup>[85]</sup></a> which Solomon Willard (1783-1861) erected in
+Charlestown, Mass., in 1825-43.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Washington Mills’s Government buildings include, besides the Treasury and the
+Monument, the Patent Office and the old Post Office Department, both begun in 1839.
+These are sober masonry edifices of wholly fireproof construction incorporating much
+vaulting. They are dominated by Grecian porticoes, like the Treasury, but without
+that more conspicuously sited structure’s peristyles along the sides. Mills’s smaller custom
+houses in various seaboard towns are simple and massive blocks of granite ashlar,
+the best preserved today being that in New London, Conn. These provided worthy
+symbols of Federal authority among the slighter edifices of wood and brick that filled
+the seaports of this period. Like Latrobe, Mills was as much engineer as architect, which
+helps to explain his preoccupation with fireproof construction; moreover, lighthouses
+and waterworks figured prominently in his total production.<a id="r86"></a><a href='#f86' class='c025'><sup>[86]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mills, more than anyone else, set the high standard of design and construction for
+Federal buildings that was fortunately maintained by his successors until after the Civil
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>War. These were Ammi B. Young (1800-74), who took over the Government post<a id="r87"></a><a href='#f87' class='c025'><sup>[87]</sup></a>
+in 1852, and Rogers, who followed him ten years later in 1862. In remote San Francisco
+the Grecian rule in Federal architecture continued very late, as the U.S. Mint there
+of 1869-74 rather surprisingly indicates. This was possibly designed by Rogers just
+before his death even though A. B. Mullet had succeeded him in office in 1865.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Related to the Romantic Classicism of Washington is certain Virginia work. Arlington
+House, as remodelled by the English-born and English-trained Hadfield, rises just
+across the Potomac River on a high hill-crest; by its tremendously overscaled Paestum-like
+temple portico, added in 1826 to give grandeur to a modest earlier mansion, this
+provides a more monumental note in the Washington scene than anything of this period
+inside the city except Mills’s obelisk and his Treasury.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just outside Charlottesville, Jefferson, after his retirement from the Presidency, devoted
+himself architecturally as well as educationally from 1817 until his death to the
+organization of the University of Virginia and the construction of its buildings. The
+layout, with pavilions for the various professors’ use linked by porticoed galleries behind
+which the students’ rooms are placed, culminated at the upper end in the Library
+and was originally open<a id="r88"></a><a href='#f88' class='c025'><sup>[88]</sup></a> to the view at the bottom (Figure <a href='#i083'>12</a>). Although most of the
+pavilions reflect earlier stages of Romantic Classicism—if not usually the Anglo-Palladian
+with which Jefferson’s architectural career had begun half a century earlier—this
+is a more remarkable entity than his Virginia Capitol. Perhaps it has a lesser general
+historical importance, yet it is certainly not without special significance for America.
+This is most notably true of one of the pavilions whose design was suggested to Jefferson
+by Latrobe in 1819. Here for the first time a modern American dwelling, and one of
+quite modest size—for these pavilions were used as houses for the professors as well as
+providing classrooms on the ground storey—was encased within the shell of a prostyle
+Greek temple. Moreover, Jefferson accomplished this rather more successfully than
+Beaumont in France in the late eighteenth century at the Temple de Silence, or Wilkins
+in England at Grange Park in 1809.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not the least successful among the innumerable imitations of the Roman Pantheon,
+the building which originally served as the Library of the University, built in 1822-6,
+dominated the two ranges of colonnade-linked pavilions (Plate <a href='#pl038b'>38<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Here more
+drastically than by Wilkins at Downing College or Ramée at Union, the earlier Anglo-Saxon
+patterns of educational architecture were reconstituted in Romantic Classical
+guise, yet the University of Virginia did not have a very considerable influence,
+then or later. The central group at Amherst College in Massachusetts—two dormitories
+of 1821 and 1822 and a chapel between of 1827—offers a modest group of quite
+different but equally notable quality on a splendid hill-crest site (Plate <a href='#pl045'>45</a>). At other
+colleges only individual structures usually survive from this period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The temple house, initiated by Jefferson and Latrobe, had a tremendous success with
+builders in the thirties and forties, particularly in the new territories west of the Alleghenies.
+But the finest and most paradigmatic came rather earlier and were architect-designed.
+Ithiel Town (1784-1844), for example, built the Bowers House in Northampton,
+Mass., in 1825-6 with an Ionic portico on the main block and fronted the lower
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>side wings with antae. The big Corinthian Russell house, a pure temple with no side
+wings—the present wing was added later—rose in Middletown, Conn., to the design of
+his partner, A. J. Davis (1803-92), in 1828.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From such a ‘Parthenon’ as Berry Hill in Virginia, built by its owner James Coles
+Bruce in 1835-40, which is flanked by two lodges also of temple form, to innumerable
+more modest houses in the older towns of Ohio and Michigan, the roster of such edifices
+is infinitely extensive. It is also surprisingly varied in scale and in the materials used—most,
+but not all, are of white-painted wood—as also in the handling of the dominating
+columnar porticoes. In the South, for example, the characteristic plantation houses of
+Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Mississippi are peripteral but unpedimented, with
+external galleries splitting the height of the giant columns. Natchez in Mississippi has
+several fine examples; in Louisiana, Greenwood near St Francisville of about 1830 may
+be specifically mentioned, and also Oak Alley of 1836 at Vacherie near New Orleans.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most ambitious Grecian houses of the Deep South are often very late in date, and
+architects were rarely employed to design them. Moreover, Greek detail was adopted in
+the South only very slowly and rarely used with the correctness of the Northern builders,
+who leaned so heavily on the plates of the orders in the books of Benjamin and others.
+Belle Meade, near Nashville, of 1853, being by the distinguished Philadelphia architect
+Strickland, is something of an exception in several ways; it had, for example, a fine
+portico of square antae executed in white marble that was almost Schinkelesque. Vast
+Belle Grove at White Castle, Louisiana, built by Henry Howard in 1857, was probably
+more effective in the romantically ruinous state in which it existed for many years before
+its final destruction than in its pristine condition, so confusedly eclectic was the general
+composition, with Italianate as well as Classical elements quite casually mixed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Unpedimented porticoes are not unknown in the North, both east and west of the
+Alleghenies, as in the Levi Lincoln house of 1836 (once in Worcester, Mass., now moved
+to nearby Sturbridge) by Elias Carter (1781-1864) with its convex-fluted Doric order.
+Such original touches, which many carpenters introduced out of plain ignorance and
+more sophisticated architects developed out of a conscious desire to nationalize and personalize
+even such absolute paradigms as those of the Greek orders, often lend variety
+and piquancy to the mode. The finest Grecian houses, such as Elmhyrst at One Mile
+Corner, Newport, R.I., built probably by Russell Warren (1783-1860) about 1833,
+certainly owe their originality to the studied intentions of architects. This house, in
+particular, has a façade composed in overlapping planes that is not unworthy of Cockerell
+(Plate <a href='#pl042b'>42<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). On the other hand, the Hermitage near Savannah, Georgia, designed by
+Charles B. Cluskey <i>c.</i> 1830, could almost be by Schinkel, so simple and pure is its design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Trained architects, on the whole, were too rationalistic or too adventurous to
+follow closely the plain temple model in domestic or institutional work. Walter presumably
+surrounded Andalusia, the home of the philhellene banker Nicholas Biddle
+outside Philadelphia, with a Doric temple-shell in 1833 only against his own better
+judgement. In 1833-47 he also built for Girard College in Philadelphia, of which Biddle
+was the trustee who called the tune, an enormous Corinthian temple. Inside this he incorporated
+a variety of educational functions only with considerable difficulty, but he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>vaulted all the interiors in the manner of Latrobe and Mills in order to provide a completely
+fireproof structure.<a id="r89"></a><a href='#f89' class='c025'><sup>[89]</sup></a> Curiously enough, this was one of the first American buildings
+to be published abroad,<a id="r90"></a><a href='#f90' class='c025'><sup>[90]</sup></a> thus rivalling Haviland’s prison, but it attracted no
+emulators in Europe. By the thirties, of course, these buildings by Walter were no
+novelties in Philadelphia.</p>
+
+<div id='i083'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i083.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 12. Thomas Jefferson: Charlottesville, Va., University of Virginia, 1817-26, plan.</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Philadelphia, the former colonial metropolis and briefly the national capital, was
+much more than Washington the cultural centre of the country in the early decades of
+the century. Here Latrobe had had his start, significantly with a bank in the form of an
+Ionic temple. Now in 1818 Strickland,<a id="r91"></a><a href='#f91' class='c025'><sup>[91]</sup></a> a native-born American and quite untravelled,
+won in competition the commission for building the Branch Bank of the United States
+with a much more archaeologically correct temple. Like various European and British
+public monuments of the period, but unlike any bank abroad, this is a marble Parthenon.
+But the various needs of the banking business were skilfully provided for inside, and the
+principal barrel-vaulted interior is very fine indeed. Built in 1819-24, this bank (later a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>Custom House) rivals the Bavarian Walhalla and the Scottish National Monument,
+though lacking their splendid hill-top sites. It was just the thing to establish Strickland’s
+national reputation. But his Merchants’ Exchange in Philadelphia of 1832-4, with a
+rounded end and a trabeated ground storey, provides more interesting and impressive
+evidence of his talent, perhaps the greatest of the generation following Latrobe in
+America (Plate <a href='#pl040'>40</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Strickland’s latest major work, the State Capitol in Nashville, Tennessee, of 1845-9,
+still a temple but with various accretions, has the high site his bank lacked, but it suffers
+otherwise from the general deterioration of the sense of Grecian style after the mid
+thirties, a deterioration quite as evident in American architecture as in European. This
+Tennessee temple was the last but one of a series of state capitols that followed the
+model of Jefferson’s at Richmond, Virginia, rather than Bulfinch’s dome-crowned
+Boston State House or the national Capitol in Washington. The first example that was
+correctly Greek in detail seems to have been that for Connecticut in New Haven; it was
+built by Town and his partner Davis in 1827-31, and has long since been demolished.
+However, that designed by Gideon Shryock (1802-80) in Frankfort, Kentucky, was
+going up at about the same time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1831-5 Davis built a larger and grander Greek Doric temple (no longer extant) as
+a Capitol for Indiana at Indianapolis, but provided it with a small central dome. The
+latest of all the temples built to serve as state capitols was a very modest one of 1849 at
+Benicia, California, where the columnar portico was reduced to two Doric columns <i>in
+antis</i>—it is worth noting that this was erected in the very year that Sutter’s gold strike
+first put California on the map of the world.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Other state capitols of this period are Grecian but not of temple form; a good example
+is that Town &amp; Davis built at Raleigh, North Carolina, which was begun in 1833. The
+finest of all is that for Ohio at Columbus,<a id="r92"></a><a href='#f92' class='c025'><sup>[92]</sup></a> begun in 1839-40 and carried to completion
+over the years 1848-61. Here the giant ‘pilastrade’, for which columns are substituted in
+the central third of the front, has a Schinkel-like directness and severity (Plate <a href='#pl039a'>39<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Not
+so happy is the flat-topped central lantern, which is also surrounded by a pilastrade. In
+conscientious pursuit of trabeated consistency the architects thus sought to mask the
+rounded shape of the dome within, as had been tried in various French projects of the
+late eighteenth century and by Schinkel in the Altes Museum already.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After Philadelphia, Boston was the architectural metropolis of this period; and from
+Boston, beginning in 1827, issued the later treatises of Benjamin purveying the Grecian
+orders to carpenters and builders all over the North and the Middle West. Here Bulfinch,
+however, established as the leading architect in the 1790s, long remained faithful
+to the ideals of Chambers and Adam (see Chapter <a href='#ch01'>1</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At University Hall, built for Harvard College in Cambridge, Mass., in 1813-15, Bulfinch
+used granite for the ashlar of the walls as he had done for his Boston City Hall of
+1810, but the white-painted wooden trim is not yet Grecian. The Massachusetts General
+Hospital in Boston, also of granite, was designed by him in 1816-17, just before he left
+for Washington to take over from Latrobe supervision of the construction of the Capitol.
+The hospital building (now known as the Bulfinch Pavilion) as executed by Alexander
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>Parris (1780-1852) in 1818-20 is certainly a mature Romantic Classical edifice if not
+a typically Grecian one. Above the plain pediment of the central portico a square attic
+with corner chimneys supports the saucer dome, and the long side wings with three
+ranges of unframed windows display the fine granite ashlar of Boston in all its cold
+pride. Compared to Latrobe, however, Bulfinch remained a provincial if not a colonial
+designer, high as is the intrinsic quality of his best work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A younger generation, hitherto much influenced by Bulfinch’s established manner,
+took over leadership in Boston on his departure for Washington. Parris soon provided
+the first Greek temple in conservative New England when he built St Paul’s Church
+(now the Anglican Cathedral) in Tremont Street in 1819-21. Where Strickland’s contemporary
+Philadelphia bank was Doric and of marble, this is Ionic with the portico
+executed in the Acquia Creek sandstone from Virginia which was then being used so
+much in Washington. Solomon Willard carved the capitals. Parris’s Stone Temple of
+1828, the Unitarian ‘Church of the Presidents’—the two Adams presidents—in Quincy,
+Mass., is not at all a temple in form but more comparable to the Grecian churches built
+in England in this decade. The Stone Temple outranks most of them in dignity, however,
+because of the superbly appropriate local material of which it is built. It was from
+this town that the Quincy granite came that was employed for the best Boston buildings
+of the next thirty years and more, and this church was a relatively early instance of its
+monumental use. Quincy granite had become more readily available after the first
+American railway was built from the quarries to the seashore by Willard solely to
+facilitate bringing it out by water.<a id="r93"></a><a href='#f93' class='c025'><sup>[93]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The first notable use of this granite away from Quincy had been for the Bunker Hill
+Monument in Charlestown, Mass., built by Willard in 1825-43. Not only Mills, as has
+been mentioned, but the sculptor Horatio Greenough<a id="r94"></a><a href='#f94' class='c025'><sup>[94]</sup></a> and also Parris claimed, and
+perhaps deserve, some credit for the particular form of this simple but grandiose obelisk,
+which rivalled those of the Old World a decade before Mills’s in Washington was
+designed. On its completion, a steam-operated lift or elevator was provided in 1844
+capable of carrying six people; this was one of the earliest examples of an important
+technical device that would later influence architecture profoundly (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Granite imposed rigid restrictions on detailing. But the new generation knew how to
+make of those restrictions an opportunity for developing a highly original sort of basic
+classicism such as even the most determined European rationalists rarely approached. The
+houses at 39-40 Beacon Street in Boston, now occupied by the Women’s City Club, and
+the David Sears house at No. 42, now the Somerset Club (Plate <a href='#pl043b'>43<span class='fss'>B</span></a>)—the latter by
+Parris and of 1816, the former probably by him and of 1818—as also the granite terrace
+at Nos. 70-75, probably by Benjamin, are good examples of domestic work of this
+period. More important is Parris’s Quincy (properly Faneuil Hall) Market in Boston,
+designed in 1823 for Mayor Joseph Quincy as the central feature of a considerable urbanistic
+development on the site of earlier docks. This domed and porticoed structure lacks
+the geometrical severity of the Sears house with its great bow on the front and its
+superbly placed scroll panel; but in the Market House Parris not only used cast iron
+for the internal supports but also experimented on the exterior with a trabeated framework
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>of monolithic granite piers and lintels. The same sort of ‘granite skeleton’ construction
+(so to call it) was also used but with greater delicacy of proportion and elegance
+of finish—note the Soanic incised detail of the wooden window-frames—for the commercial
+buildings<a id="r95"></a><a href='#f95' class='c025'><sup>[95]</sup></a> which Parris designed and that various lessees shortly built along the
+streets that flank the Market House to the north and the south (Plate <a href='#pl112b'>112<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This was one
+of the major structural innovations of the period (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Within a few years other Boston architects and builders were currently using
+this sort of construction, and it soon spread to several New England cities. However,
+more typical of the urban ambition of the twenties and thirties than the destroyed
+block of 1824 in Providence by J. H. Green (1777-1850), which followed line for line
+Parris’s commercial work, are two other buildings there. The Providence Arcade of
+1828 by Warren has not one, but two terminal porticoes of Ionic columns executed in
+granite and also a fine interior consisting of raised side galleries under an iron-and-glass
+roof. Few extant galleries of this decade in Europe are as notable in scale and in finish.
+The Washington Buildings of 1843 by James C. Bucklin (1801-90), who had assisted
+Warren on the Arcade, had a plain range of three storeys of window-pierced red-brick
+wall above a trabeated granite ground storey, the whole dominated by a central pedimented
+feature (Plate <a href='#pl039b'>39<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This was a commercial project as grand as any in contemporary
+Europe in scale, in materials, and in finish, although without the originality
+of the trabeated all-granite bow-front of Rogers’s contemporary Brazier’s Buildings on
+State Street in Boston. Yet Bucklin’s Westminster Presbyterian Church in Providence
+of 1846 is a straight Greek Ionic temple like so many other non-Anglican edifices of this
+period in England and America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Where Romantic Classicism, and more specifically the Greek Revival, found its
+noblest opportunities in Europe in public monuments, in America after the days of
+Latrobe it was rather commercial, institutional, and even industrial<a id="r96"></a><a href='#f96' class='c025'><sup>[96]</sup></a> commissions that
+stimulated architects and builders to original achievement, while public work grew
+more and more conventional. For instance, the Lippitt Woollen Mill of 1836 in Woonsocket,
+R.I., and the Governor Harris Manufactory at Harris, R.I., dating from as late as
+1851 can both be properly described as ‘in the Grecian vernacular’. They are most
+admirably proportioned and very soundly built, with walls of random ashlar masonry and
+boldly scaled wooden trim, very plain, yet of generically Greek character. The discipline
+of Romantic Classicism accorded well with the requirements of industrial building; not
+until the present century would factories of comparable architectural quality be built.
+Moreover, they were often complemented by consonant low-cost housing, as in the
+extant mill village at White Rock, R.I., of 1849.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No European public edifice has a grander Greek Doric portico than that which
+dominates the tremendous four-storey front block of the Lunatic Asylum in Utica,
+N.Y., of 1837-43, designed by no architect, according to the records, but by the Chairman
+of the Board of Trustees, William Clarke (Plate <a href='#pl046'>46</a>). Still later, in 1850, after the
+Grecian mode was <i>passé</i> with most architects if not with the general public, Davis built
+in the Renaissance Revival mode that he called ‘Tuscan’ the Insane Asylum at Raleigh,
+North Carolina; this is distinguished by his characteristic arrangement of the windows
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>in tall vertical bands. Such American institutions are not at all unworthy of comparison
+with the best French productions of the period by Gilbert and others, although generally
+of rather smaller size (Plate <a href='#pl020'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i087'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i087.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 13. Isaiah Rogers: Boston, Tremont House, 1828-9, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Hotels in Europe had not as yet received much architectural elaboration, nor did they
+in general before the mid century. Such English hotels of Grecian pretension as the
+Queen’s by W. C. and R. Jearrad at Cheltenham, which opened in 1837, or the Great
+Western in Bristol by R. S. Pope (1781-?), opened two years later, are rather exceptional,
+being located at spas, and in any case a decade later in date than the first notable
+American example. It was in Boston, at the Tremont House built in 1828-9, a Grecian
+granite structure of dignified grandeur externally (Plate <a href='#pl041'>41</a>) and of considerable functional
+elaboration internally (Figure <a href='#i087'>13</a>), that Rogers and his clients consciously initiated
+a new standard of hotel design. For thirty years Rogers himself, in various hotels from
+New Orleans—the St Charles—to Cincinnati—the Burnet House—all long ago demolished,
+personally maintained and, at least in terms of functional organization, continued
+to raise that standard. Not for nothing did the big new London hotels of a generation
+later label their bars and their barber-shops ‘American’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>In 1832 Rogers began the Astor House in New York; when completed in 1836 this
+already outranked the Tremont House in every way. Not least extraordinary must have
+been the elaborately fan-vaulted hall. This reflected that eclectic interest in Gothic of
+which Rogers’s wooden Unitarian Church of 1833 in Cambridge, Mass., provides
+extant evidence. The last hotel that he built was the Maxwell House in Nashville,
+Tennessee, of 1854-60.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Rogers’s pre-eminence at hotel design was signalized from the first by the publication
+in 1830 of a monograph on the Tremont House;<a id="r97"></a><a href='#f97' class='c025'><sup>[97]</sup></a> thus the hotel joined the prison as a
+type of building in which American influence became important internationally. But
+Rogers’s practice was by no means confined to hotels; among other things he gave
+both Boston and New York their Merchants Exchanges long before he became Supervising
+Architect in Washington. The colonnade of the latter, a little like that of Schinkel’s
+Altes Museum, still survives at the base of McKim, Mead &amp; White’s First National
+City Bank in Wall Street to illustrate Rogers’s high competence at handling a standard
+Romantic Classical theme.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Resort hotels repeated the same Grecian themes in wood, their columns being often
+much attenuated in order to rise three and four storeys above the circumambient
+verandas. However, an early example, the first Ocean House of 1841 at Newport, R.I.,
+had a colonnade only two storeys tall set against the main four-storey block. On the
+Atlantic House there of 1844 the fourth storey occupied the broad Greek entablature
+surrounding the entire main block, but the front portico of elongated Ionic columns was
+only hexastyle. Both were burnt many years ago, but later examples of inferior quality
+remain in several forgotten spas and mountain resorts of the period, particularly in New
+York State.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>New York City was drawing architectural talent in these years from other cities. Before
+Rogers moved there from Boston in 1834, mid way in the Astor House campaign,
+Town &amp; Davis had arrived from Connecticut. Davis’s Sub-Treasury in Wall Street
+begun in 1834,<a id="r98"></a><a href='#f98' class='c025'><sup>[98]</sup></a> however, is rather less successful than the earlier New England houses of
+similar temple form that he and Town had designed. Davis was himself more notably a
+protagonist of the Picturesque, despite all the very large and prominent Grecian buildings
+for which he was responsible (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). Yet his Colonnade Row in Lafayette
+Street of 1832, a terrace all of freestone with a free-standing giant Corinthian colonnade,
+equals in grandeur anything of the period that London or Edinburgh have to offer
+(Plate <a href='#pl042a'>42<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). More typical of New York in this period than Colonnade Row, and of uncertain
+authorship, is the terrace of red-brick Grecian houses built on the north side of
+Washington Square in the thirties, of which a few have survived on sufferance the vandalous
+encroachments of New York University.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Some of the finest Greek houses are by provincial architects. One such is stone-built
+Hyde Hall in Cooperstown, N.Y., very crisp and severe as it was remodelled in 1833
+by Philip Hooker (1766-1836) of Albany, who had built it originally in 1811. Still
+others are of uncertain authorship, notably the Alsop house of 1838 in Middletown,
+Conn. This is a symmetrical Grecian villa almost worthy of Schinkel’s Potsdam, with
+very fine murals on the exterior as well as inside. The Alsop house (now the Davison
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>Art Centre of Wesleyan University) was probably designed by a relative of the family
+who had access to the resources of the Town &amp; Davis office; however, the painters employed
+were Italian or German. The Wooster-Boalt house of 1848 in Norwalk, Ohio,
+indicates the late continuance of real restraint and sophistication of design in the Middle
+West, something already lost in the sumptuous mansions of New Orleans and the Deep
+South. But many Middle Western houses illustrate rather the surprising elasticity of
+Carpenters’ Grecian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A mode that approaches the German <i>Rundbogenstil</i>—indeed, in the work of such
+foreign-trained architects as the Prague-born Leopold Eidlitz (1823-1908) relatively
+authentic examples of that mode—was not uncommon in the America of the mid century.<a id="r99"></a><a href='#f99' class='c025'><sup>[99]</sup></a>
+The Astor Library in Lafayette Street opposite Colonnade Row, built by A.
+Saelzer in 1849, was a good example. Less successful was Appleton Chapel at Harvard
+College in Cambridge, Mass., by Paul Schulze (1827-97), who sent over the drawings
+from Germany, and later settled in America. Begun in 1856, this was a very reduced
+version of Gärtner’s Ludwigskirche in Munich with only one tower. However, the
+largest and finest example was by a precocious student at Brown University, Thomas A.
+Tefft (1826-59).<a id="r100"></a><a href='#f100' class='c025'><sup>[100]</sup></a> This was the Union Station in Providence, begun in 1848 and gradually
+carried out by Bucklin and his partner Talman (Plate <a href='#pl044'>44</a>). This station rivalled in
+extent and in the distinction and ingenuity of its rather Lombardic Romanesque detailing,
+simply executed with ordinary red brick, the German ones by Eisenlohr and Bürklein
+in Baden and Bavaria; without much question it was the finest early station in the
+New World. Tefft also designed various New England churches of somewhat similar
+character, all dominated by very tall and simple spires. However, his churches in the
+East are outrivalled by such a Middle Western example as the Union Methodist in St
+Louis, built by George I. Barnett (1815-98) in 1852-4. Tefft’s best works, other than
+the station, are not <i>Rundbogenstil</i> but Barryesque; such is the brownstone Tully-Bowen
+house on Benefit Street in Providence of 1852-3, for example. Others were building as
+fine ones there, however. The consistent use of brownstone and red brick well illustrates
+the sharp reaction that had set in by his time against the pale tones and untextured surfaces
+of the Greek Revival.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The towered Italian Villa<a id="r101"></a><a href='#f101' class='c025'><sup>[101]</sup></a> was introduced by John Notman (1810-65) in Bishop
+George W. Doane’s house at Burlington, NJ., in 1837 and soon actively propagandized
+by A. J. Downing (1815-52) in his influential books (see Chapters <a href='#ch06'>6</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Indeed,
+the Barryesque Renaissance mode was also probably first introduced by the
+Scottish-born Notman at the Philadelphia Atheneum<a id="r102"></a><a href='#f102' class='c025'><sup>[102]</sup></a> built in 1845-7 (Plate <a href='#pl047a'>47<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+These non-Grecian, yet still basically Romantic Classical, modes were in relatively common
+use by 1850, though not very much earlier. Young, for example, who had made his
+reputation with the saucer-domed but otherwise Greek Custom House<a id="r103"></a><a href='#f103' class='c025'><sup>[103]</sup></a> that he built in
+Boston in 1837-47, substituted a somewhat Barryesque manner for Mills’s Grecian as the
+current mode for Federal buildings<a id="r104"></a><a href='#f104' class='c025'><sup>[104]</sup></a> when he became Supervising Architect in 1853.
+But neither Notman nor Young was a Barry—nor even as competent at such design as
+the youthful Tefft—and the most notable result of the waning of the Greek Revival
+in the forties, in the East at any rate—it waned much more slowly in the South and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>West—was the rise of a rather considerable variety of Picturesque modes of suburban-house
+design, of which the Italianate was only one (see Chapters <a href='#ch06'>6</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). In cities,
+the shift from the characteristic granite or, more usually, hard red brick with white
+trim to the chocolate tones of brownstone, used alone or with brick, is much more
+indicative of a general change of taste than any widespread exploitation of Renaissance
+forms.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A fine relatively early Italian Villa such as the Stebbins house of 1849 on Crescent St,
+off Maple St, in Springfield, Mass., by Henry A. Sykes belongs to the realm of Romantic
+Classicism like Schinkel’s or Barry’s country houses in this mode (Plate <a href='#pl043a'>43<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But on
+the whole the Italian Villa in America is rather one of the many vehicles of the Picturesque
+reaction against a doctrinaire Greek Revival. This fact was well illustrated in
+one by Eidlitz, also in Springfield, on Maple Street, that was built of brick with much
+wooden ‘gingerbread’ of a vaguely Tyrolean order and latterly, at least, painted a warm
+pink where Sykes’s villa is painted white with brown trim. Sykes’s originality within
+the Italian Villa mode is most happily illustrated by the former observatory at Amherst
+College, now known as the Octagon, whose stuccoed polygonal elements stand in such
+interesting contrast to the severe row of red-brick dormitories and chapel behind. Not
+often did the mid century add so effectively to groups of buildings produced in earlier
+decades.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just as the Iberian peninsula was in general devoid of significant architectural activity
+in the first half of the nineteenth century, so in the Spanish and Portuguese lands beyond
+the seas there came no early wave of autochthonous Romantic Classicism to submerge
+and succeed the Baroque that had flourished there to the end of the colonial period and
+beyond. In Brazil Dom Pedro, later the first Brazilian Emperor, under whose rule the
+centre of gravity of Portuguese civilization moved from Lisbon to Rio de Janeiro, imported
+in 1816 a group of French artists. They were expected to found a new post-Baroque
+Brazilian culture much as Alexander I’s architects had done a little earlier in
+Russia. One was the French architect Grandjean de Montigny, author with Famin of
+that most influential work <i>L’Architecture toscane</i> to which all Europe turned for <i>quattrocento</i>
+models, who had been employed by Jerome Bonaparte in Westphalia as long as
+Napoleon’s Empire lasted. He erected in Rio in 1826 the first home for the new Imperial
+Academy of Fine Arts, founded of course on the model of the Parisian École des Beaux-Arts,
+the Market, and the extant Custom House. He also trained a group of Brazilians
+who gave local architectural production an Empire flavour that lasted until it was superseded
+well after the mid century by a wave of Second Empire influence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In vernacular building traditional treatments were often maintained in Brazil, notably
+the use of <i>azulejos</i> (glazed tiles) for wall surfaces and of rich painted colour for the
+ubiquitous stucco. But more sophisticated work can be very French indeed. For example,
+the Itamaratí Palace in Rio of 1851-4 by J. M. J. Rebelo, a pupil of Grandjean de Montigny,
+might well be taken for a <i>hôtel particulier</i> erected in the new quarters of Paris in the
+earlier decades of the century (Plate <a href='#pl047b'>47<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Beautifully restored, this now houses the
+Brazilian Foreign Office—one says ‘Itamaratí’ as one says ‘Quai d’Orsay’. Rebelo also
+built the Summer Palace at Petrópolis. The Santa Isabel Theatre at Recife, Pernambuco,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>built about 1845, which is so like a French provincial theatre of this period, is by another
+French architect who had settled in Brazil in 1840, L.-L. Vauthier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Chile, on the other side of the South American continent, C.-F. Brunet-Debaines
+(1799-1855), a brother of the architect who built the Museum and Library at Le Havre,
+was employed on government work in Santiago. But the schools that such French architects
+assisted in founding had more significance than the few buildings they were able to
+erect. Henceforth, Latin America would be less dependent in architecture on the
+Spanish and Portuguese homelands than on Paris. The character of the larger cities outside
+their colonial cores—if, indeed, more than a few early monuments remain extant—was
+henceforth determined by this fact. However, it is the Second Empire and not the
+First which left the more visible mark; for the various capitals, some like Montevideo in
+Uruguay almost without earlier architectural history, saw their greatest expansion in the
+later decades of the nineteenth century and the first of the twentieth.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The establishment of a Latin American architecture of really
+autochthonous character, as distinguished from the continuance of
+various local vernacular building traditions, had to await the present
+period (see Chapters <a href='#ch22'>22</a> and <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). Once again French influence had a
+significant role to play. But between the arrival of Grandjean de
+Montigny in 1816 and Le Corbusier’s first visit to South America in
+1929 that continent took little part in the major architectural
+developments of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. On the other
+hand, the United States, building on the professional foundations laid
+by Latrobe and exploiting to the full new structural materials and
+methods, rose before the nineteenth century was over to a position of
+world leadership (see Chapters <a href='#ch13'>13</a>, <a href='#ch14'>14</a>, and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What is true of Latin America is not altogether untrue of the British Dominions in the
+New World and at the Antipodes, as also of various British Colonies throughout the rest
+of the world. No French architects were imported, of course, and the links with England
+remained very close and strong. As in all colonial situations, however, the transfer
+of new ideas from the homeland was slow and inefficient and the capacity of <i>émigré</i>
+architects usually rather low. No Latrobes or Havilands seem to have gone to the
+Dominions; and the Greek Revival was hardly accepted before the forties, when it was
+already passing out of favour in the United States.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The first professional to work in Australia, Francis Greenway (1777-1837), who
+arrived in Sydney in 1814 as a convict and almost at once became Governor Macquarie’s
+architect, remained faithful in most of his public work to the modes of his eighteenth-century
+youth in Bristol. But his house of 1822 for Robert Campbell, Jr, in Bligh Street
+in Sydney showed that he had real skill as a designer of up-to-date Regency villas.
+Canada had no early architect of comparable ability to serve the British community.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As the western world expanded in the nineteenth century, significant architectural
+achievement tended to move outwards from the old centres on the Tiber, the Seine,
+and the Thames; but that movement was always very uneven, and still remains so today.
+Russia was building more and finer structures of Western European character
+than Spain and Portugal; while the United States, not yet fantastically disparate in
+size and population, produced many more productive Romantic Classical architects than
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>either Holland or Sweden. All the same, the architectural leadership of the western
+world remained for at least a generation longer in the old centres of Europe; our story
+must return to where it started in order to proceed beyond the mid century or even to
+complete the account of the period 1810-50.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Romantic Classicism came to no sudden end. If in Vienna a monumental Grecian
+Parliament house could rise as late as the seventies, so in the desert of Arizona the Crystal
+Palace Saloon of 1878 at Tombstone is still in the Greek Revival vernacular. From the
+very first, on the other hand, there was some admixture of the Picturesque in Romantic
+Classicism. Almost all the architects that have been mentioned, both of the earlier and of
+the later generation, were more eclectic in their practice and even in their theories than
+this account of their major works has made altogether evident. But in the main, down
+into the forties, Romantic Classicism, while increasingly eclectic, remained a coherent
+style whose canons controlled most of the accepted variants to the Grecian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The dissolution of the dominant stylistic discipline, hardly completed even in the
+fifties, had nevertheless begun very early indeed. In terms of historical significance, if
+not of absolute achievement, the Picturesque rises rapidly in comparative importance
+from the time of Wyatt’s Fonthill Abbey in the 1790s. Beside Soane’s crisp Bank interiors
+it is necessary to carry in the mind’s eye the prophetic image which his renderer
+J. M. Gandy (1771-1843) provided of them as a Romantic ruin; nor should the vast
+dream-like Gothic cathedrals that Schinkel made the centre of some of his early paintings
+be forgotten in the cool presence of his Grecian Schauspielhaus and Museum. Fortunately
+no one is likely in looking at Barry’s <i>palazzi</i> to forget that they are contemporary
+with his Gothic Houses of Parliament; one does, however, tend to forget that the
+career of his associate Pugin as protagonist of the mature Gothic Revival ended well
+before Barry’s did as the chief English protagonist of the Renaissance Revival. Earlier
+the Gothic Revival was hardly more than a special aspect of the Picturesque; with Pugin,
+however, it became a major movement in its own right and actually anti-Picturesque in
+theory, if rarely so in practice. To a considerable extent, moreover, the Gothic Revival
+usurped during the forties the centre of the stage in England, if hardly to the same
+degree in other countries even in the following decades.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>
+  <h2 id='ch06' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 6</span><br />THE PICTURESQUE AND THE GOTHIC REVIVAL</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> principal modern treatise on the Picturesque with a capital P, Christopher Hussey’s
+of 1927, is subtitled ‘Studies in a Point of View’. By the opening years of the nineteenth
+century the term had come to have a far more precise, if also a more complex, meaning
+than the adjective ‘picturesque’ as it is generally used today. But Hussey is perfectly
+correct: the Picturesque is no more a style than is the Sublime, it <i>is</i> a point of view.
+That point of view nevertheless influenced architecture<a id="r105"></a><a href='#f105' class='c025'><sup>[105]</sup></a> increasingly as the first half of
+the nineteenth century wore on. It had a solvent, and eventually a destructive, effect
+on the dominant Romantic Classical style as has already been suggested in discussing the
+later work of various leading architects in several countries.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The Picturesque had its early eighteenth-century origins<a id="r106"></a><a href='#f106' class='c025'><sup>[106]</sup></a> in England, and its most
+notable theorists were English. In the first quarter of the century, moreover, there was
+no British architect so resolutely Grecian that he did not, either on his own initiative or
+in deference to his clients’ wishes, experiment with alternative modes in conscious pursuit
+of the Picturesque. Despite the stringencies of the Greek Revival as represented,
+early, in Wilkins’s Downing College or, later, in Smirke’s British Museum, Smirke had
+built several Castellated mansions in the years before Waterloo and Wilkins the Gothic
+screen and the hall range at King’s College, Cambridge, in the twenties; while at the
+National Gallery in the thirties he handled standard Classical elements in a markedly
+Picturesque way. Nash was the initiator of one characteristically Picturesque mode, the
+asymmetrically towered Italian Villa, at Cronkhill in 1802; he also exploited in
+an exemplary way another longer-established one, the Rustic Cottage, in Blaise
+Hamlet in 1811 (Plate <a href='#pl050a'>50<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The score or more of Castellated mansions that Nash built
+were always Picturesque and irregular whether their detailing was Norman<a id="r107"></a><a href='#f107' class='c025'><sup>[107]</sup></a> or some
+sort of Gothic. Above all, he handled the urbanistic development which was his greatest
+achievement in a thoroughly Picturesque way. Soane’s Picturesque was of a less usual
+order and his personal tendency was as much or more towards the Sublime, otherwise
+a largely forgotten category after 1810.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But from 1810 on new buildings in which the basic principles of Romantic Classicism
+were ignored and exotic stylistic alternatives to the Grecian exploited were generally
+larger, more prominent, and also more creatively original than they had ever been before.
+C. A. Busby (1788-1838) was responsible as late as 1827 for one of the finest, most
+formal, and most extensive examples of Romantic Classical urbanism, Kemp Town at
+Brighton. Yet in 1814 he exhibited at the Royal Academy his design for Gwrych Castle,
+completed in 1815, which he was building in North Wales near Abergele, presumably in
+collaboration with his client, Lloyd Bamford Hesketh, a notable amateur (Plate <a href='#pl049'>49</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next year Nash began for the Regent the transformation of his favourite residence,
+the Royal Pavilion<a id="r108"></a><a href='#f108' class='c025'><sup>[108]</sup></a> at Brighton. This was at that time an elegant early example
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>of a Romantic Classical house as first remodelled and enlarged by Henry Holland<a id="r109"></a><a href='#f109' class='c025'><sup>[109]</sup></a>
+(1745-1806) just before the Napoleonic Wars began. Nash now made of it an extraordinary
+oriental confection (as had already been proposed by Repton<a id="r110"></a><a href='#f110' class='c025'><sup>[110]</sup></a> in 1806). Part
+Chinese, part Saracenic, and part Indian, this is quite in the spirit of Porden’s earlier
+Dome near by (Plate <a href='#pl048'>48</a>). Festive and frivolous, the Pavilion resembles an oversized
+garden fabrick or sumptuously ornamented marquee; but the scale is fully architectural,
+even monumental, both externally and in the principal apartments. Not least interesting
+is Nash’s frank use of visible iron elements. These are not masonry-scaled like the
+columns he employed later in the Regent Street Quadrant and on Carlton House Terrace,
+but delicate and playfully decorative. The pierced ‘Chinese’ staircases of 1815-18
+have naturalistically coloured bamboo detailing and the tops of the four columns that
+carry the monitor over the kitchen of 1818-21 are embellished with copper palm-leaves
+(Plate <a href='#pl058a'>58<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Pavilion had no real sequel; even the Regent, King as George IV from 1820, tired
+of it almost as soon as it was finished. Indeed, he forsook Brighton for good in 1823 just
+as the general building activity there,<a id="r111"></a><a href='#f111' class='c025'><sup>[111]</sup></a> commonly but incorrectly called ‘Regency’, was
+getting under way. Turning his attention to Windsor Castle, the King employed Sir
+Jeffrey Wyatville (1776-1840) to remodel the accumulated mass of heterogeneous
+construction there into a Picturesque mansion of the Castellated sort in which the
+real medieval elements were quite submerged. But Windsor, being much more obviously
+a remodelling than was the Pavilion when Nash completed it, is not a very
+exemplary specimen of a fake castle. Busby’s Gwrych, set against a hanging wood, its
+round and square towers simply detailed and tightly though asymmetrically composed,
+is a better instance of that abstract sculptural massing which critics of the mid century
+would sometimes define as ‘architecturesque’ (Plate <a href='#pl049'>49</a>). For this sort of three-dimensional
+composition the Italian Villa mode provided on the whole a better vehicle.
+Wyatville, for example, did his best to turn the vast regular mass of late seventeenth-century
+Chatsworth<a id="r112"></a><a href='#f112' class='c025'><sup>[112]</sup></a> into a more Picturesque adjunct to its landscape setting by
+Capability Brown (1715-83), by adding a long service wing on the north side and terminating
+that with a very large and tall loggia-topped tower.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Well before George IV undertook the remodelling of Windsor, a relatively modest
+mansion linked the Castellated mode more closely to the rising enthusiasm for the
+Middle Ages. The author of the immensely popular Waverley novels, Sir Walter Scott,
+employed Blore in 1816 to build Abbotsford near Melrose in Roxburghshire in this
+vein—it was much extended along the same lines by William Atkinson (<i>c.</i> 1773-1839)
+in 1822-3. With its definitely Scottish features Abbotsford initiated a special mode, the
+Scottish Baronial, that eventually received Royal sanction when Queen Victoria acquired
+Balmoral Castle near Ballater in 1848, a modest residence built in the late thirties
+by John Smith of Aberdeen. At the time she and Prince Albert first occupied this Scottish
+retreat Balmoral was quite small, but it was reconstructed in 1853-5 on a vastly
+larger scale in the same Scottish Baronial mode by William Smith, son of the original
+architect, working in close collaboration with Prince Albert. Thus the Queen’s two
+private residences, Osborne and Balmoral, both in part at least designed by the Consort,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>illustrated—in neither case very happily—the two major types of determinedly Picturesque
+design for edifices of some consequence, the Italian Villa and the Castellated;
+the viability of the Rustic Cottage mode was necessarily rather limited and hardly suitable
+for Royal use.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Castellated design was not restricted to the field of country-house building. At Conway,
+in Wales, the engineer Thomas Telford (1757-1834) in his suspension bridge of 1819-24
+and, after him, Robert Stephenson and his associated architect Francis Thompson in the
+tubular bridge<a id="r113"></a><a href='#f113' class='c025'><sup>[113]</sup></a> there of 1845-9 castellated the piers out of deference to the nearby thirteenth-century
+Castle. Another example of Engineers’ Castellated is the first Temple
+Meads Railway Station at Bristol, built in 1839-40 by I. K. Brunel (1806-59). Brunel,
+however, had preferred Egyptian forms for the piers of the Clifton Suspension Bridge<a id="r114"></a><a href='#f114' class='c025'><sup>[114]</sup></a>
+near Bristol that he designed in 1829.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Somewhat more appropriately, prisons were likely to be Castellated in the forties and
+fifties, thus echoing the design as well as the planning of Haviland’s Eastern Penitentiary
+in Philadelphia. The Reading Gaol of 1842-4 by Sir George Gilbert Scott (1811-78)
+and his partner W. B. Moffatt (1812-87) and the Holloway Gaol in London of 1851-2
+by J. B. Bunning (1802-63) are the most striking examples. Both are essentially Picturesque
+essays; but by the time the latter was built the accepted standards of fake-castle
+building had entirely changed. The reconstruction of Alton Castle in Staffordshire,
+about 1840, by A. W. N. Pugin (1812-52) was archaeological in intention; even more
+archaeological is Peckforton Castle in Shropshire, newly erected by Anthony Salvin
+(1799-1881) in 1846-50, and his extensive ‘restoration’ of Alnwick Castle in Northumberland
+carried out in the next decade. Thanks to its magnificent hill-top site and its
+present state of disrepair, Peckforton is in fact notably Picturesque; but the fine, hard,
+structurally expressive detailing of the beautiful pink sandstone may almost be considered
+anti-Picturesque—contemporaries praised it for its ‘realism’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The welter of alternative Picturesque modes is most entertainingly epitomized in the
+model village of Edensor,<a id="r115"></a><a href='#f115' class='c025'><sup>[115]</sup></a> built by Joseph Paxton in 1839-42 at Chatsworth. He was
+probably assisted by John Robertson, a draughtsman for that encyclopaedist of the Picturesque,
+J. C. Loudon.<a id="r116"></a><a href='#f116' class='c025'><sup>[116]</sup></a> One particular mode, however, had begun to take the
+lead even before this ‘point of view’ came closest to dominance in the early decades of
+the new century. The use of Gothic<a id="r117"></a><a href='#f117' class='c025'><sup>[117]</sup></a> for new churches was common enough from the
+mid eighteenth century. Down to about 1820, however, this was usually done without
+much archaeological pretension. The mood of the protagonists of what was then called
+‘Gothick’, whether architects or clients, was not very serious. Architects lacked accurate
+illustrations of old work such as the volumes of Stuart and Revett and other similar
+treatises were providing for the Grecian. In the first two decades of the new century the
+more thorough and general study of ancient Gothic monuments in England and the
+handsome publications of John Britton (1771-1857)<a id="r118"></a><a href='#f118' class='c025'><sup>[118]</sup></a> and of Nash’s Gothic specialist,
+the elder Pugin,<a id="r119"></a><a href='#f119' class='c025'><sup>[119]</sup></a> were gradually changing the situation. Thomas Rickman (1776-1841),
+a pharmacist turned medievalist, began to put his knowledge<a id="r120"></a><a href='#f120' class='c025'><sup>[120]</sup></a> of old churches
+to practical use; his St George’s, Birmingham, built 1819-21, is a not unsuccessful
+essay in revived Perpendicular. Several others had built or were building by this time
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>churches whose relationship to monuments of the medieval past was about as close as
+that of most of the contemporary Grecian work to its ancient models. St Mary’s,
+Bathwick, in Bath, of 1814-20 is at once very early and exceptionally well-scaled. The
+local architect John Pinch (1770-1827) even vaulted it throughout in Bath stone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ultimate purging away of the frivolity of Georgian Gothick detail and the effective
+substitution of archaeological for Picturesque ideals in over-all composition was by
+no means always a gain. In two later Birmingham churches, St Peter’s, Dale End, of
+1825-7, and Bishop Ryder’s of 1837-8, Rickman did not improve on St George’s, while
+St Luke’s, Chelsea, built in London by James Savage (1779-1852) in 1819-25, despite its
+great size and its stone vaulting, is as cold and dry as the Grecian churches of the day and
+quite inferior to Pinch’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Edward Garbett’s Holy Trinity, Theale, of 1820-5—with tower added after the
+architect’s death by John Buckler (1770-1851) in 1827-8—is rather more interesting and
+also premonitory of what was coming. Here the detail, imitated from Salisbury Cathedral,
+is thirteenth-century in character, not fifteenth-sixteenth-century, as in the churches of
+Pinch, Rickman, and Savage. Moreover, Theale is more boldly scaled and more plastically
+handled altogether than are theirs. The placing of the tower, far to the rear on the
+south side, while more Picturesque in its asymmetry than the standard position at the
+centre of the west front, is also an archaeological echo of the free-standing tower which
+still existed then beside Salisbury Cathedral.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most Gothic churches built in the twenties and thirties under the Act of 1818—Commissioners’
+Churches as they are called—were neither very satisfyingly Picturesque nor
+at all archaeological. The usual reason for preferring Gothic to Grecian, indeed, was to
+save money by avoiding the need for expensive stone porticoes! Barry’s Commissioners’
+Churches around Manchester and in north-eastern London are among the better
+examples; but only his St Peter’s, Brighton, of 1824-6 (not financed by the parsimonious
+Commissioners) is at all elaborate. Among the most successful contemporary examples
+are several by one of Soane’s pupils, R. D. Chantrell, at Leeds. His Christ Church there
+of 1823-6 has considerable spatial grandeur in its tall nave and aisles, while the Perpendicular
+detailing is rich and even fairly plausible.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Generally preferable to the ecclesiastical Gothic of this decade is the collegiate work;
+of this more exists both at Oxford and at Cambridge than is generally realized. At
+King’s College, Cambridge, Wilkins’s Gothic screen fronting the quadrangle and the
+hall range at right angles to it are not altogether unworthy of the magnificent Perpendicular
+chapel and Gibbs’s Fellows Building that form the other two sides. Wilkins won
+the competition for this work in 1823, and it was all completed by 1827. Still more
+appealing, because an effectively independent entity, is Rickman’s New Court at St
+John’s College, also at Cambridge,<a id="r121"></a><a href='#f121' class='c025'><sup>[121]</sup></a> built by him with the aid of his pupil Henry
+Hutchinson (1800-31) in 1825-31 (Plate <a href='#pl050b'>50<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This is
+not very plausibly Gothic perhaps, but the papery planes of the
+light-coloured ashlar walls of the
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+quadrangle, now richly hung with creeper, form an eligibly Picturesque
+composition above and behind the open gallery across the south side
+despite their total symmetry.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the thirties standards of Gothic design were generally rising, both in the greater
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>degree of plausibility attained by the leading practitioners and in their more positive
+command of various borrowed idioms. Thus Barry’s King Edward’s Grammar School
+in Birmingham, designed in 1833 and built 1834-7, seems to have been a rather satisfactory
+Neo-Tudor design, notably Barryesque in the breadth of the composition and in
+the use of strong terminal features. This building was unusually literate in detail owing
+to the assistance of the younger Pugin, who was just about to make a tremendous personal
+reputation as a Gothic expert thanks to his books.<a id="r122"></a><a href='#f122' class='c025'><sup>[122]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Pugin’s <i>Contrasts</i>, published 1836, marks a turning point even more than does the
+acceptance in that year of Barry’s Gothic design for the Houses of Parliament. Newly
+converted to Catholicism, Pugin believed the building of Gothic churches to be a
+religious necessity. His programme of Gothic Revival was far more stringent than any
+existing programme of Greek Revival or, <i>a fortiori</i>, of Renaissance Revival. If the Gothic
+were really to be revived, Pugin saw that its basic principles must be understood and
+accepted. Merely to copy Gothic forms was as futile, and to him as immoral, as merely
+to copy Grecian or <i>cinquecento</i> ones. The methods of building of the Middle Ages must
+be revived; architecture must again derive its character, in what he considered to have
+been the true medieval way, from the direct expression of structure; and at the same time
+it must serve the complicated ritual-functional needs of revived medieval church practices.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In some ways Pugin’s ideas are closely parallel to those of the most rationalistic
+Romantic Classical theorists in France; doubtless they could be traced back, through his
+father, to French eighteenth-century sources (see Introduction). However, Pugin’s
+primary motivation was devotional and sacramental. Approaching all matters of building
+with passion, he could not but reject the frivolous emphasis on visual qualities that
+had always been characteristic of the Picturesque point of view.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mature Gothic Revival that began with Pugin, essentially an English manifestation
+despite its presumptive French background and carried eventually wherever English
+culture extended—as far as the West Coast of the United States and to the remotest
+Antipodes—grew out of the Picturesque yet is itself basically anti-Picturesque. One
+must build in a certain way because it is right to do so, not because the results are agreeable
+to the eye. The Gothic Revival thus came to be, for about a decade, as absolute as
+the most doctrinaire sort of Grecian Classicism. When the Anglicans of the Established
+Church just after 1840 took over and began to apply rigidly the principles of the
+Catholic Pugin, a new church-architecture came into being. This is quite as characteristic
+of the nineteenth century as is Romantic Classicism, even though the mode was—nominally
+at least—entirely dependent on English medieval Gothic of the fourteenth
+century. Within a decade, however, Puginian Gothic, after being accepted and codified
+by the Cambridge Camden Society,<a id="r123"></a><a href='#f123' class='c025'><sup>[123]</sup></a> developed into a much more original mode, the
+High Victorian Gothic, very remote indeed from the models which Pugin had recommended
+as providing the only proper precedents for the Revival (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here it will be well to consider two exceptional Gothic monuments, designed in the
+late thirties and built in the forties, one very large, the other rather small, which did <i>not</i>
+follow the new Puginian standards, even though in the case of one of them Pugin collaborated
+on the design from the first. The most Picturesque addition to the Romantic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>Classical scene in Edinburgh, curiously effective by contrast with the big-scaled and
+very cold Grecian structures near by, is the Sir Walter Scott Monument in Prince’s
+Street Gardens (Plate <a href='#pl051'>51</a>). This was designed in 1836 and executed in 1840-6 by G.
+Meikle Kemp<a id="r124"></a><a href='#f124' class='c025'><sup>[124]</sup></a> (1795-1844). His project had originally been placed below both
+Fowler’s and Rickman’s in a competition; as the local contender, however, he had eventually
+obtained the commission in 1838. The lacy elaboration of this florid shrine, if less
+appropriate to Sir Walter’s own brand of medievalism than Abbotsford, is certainly in
+the richest Late Georgian tradition of the Picturesque.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Picturesque also are certain aspects of the Houses of Parliament, notably the contrast in
+shape and placing of the two towers at the ends and, above all, the silhouette of the
+Clock Tower, almost certainly one of Pugin’s personal contributions to the design
+(Plate <a href='#pl054'>54</a>). But essentially the Houses of Parliament, as might be expected of Barry,
+their architect, are one of the grandest academic productions of the nineteenth century.
+Summerson has suggested a relationship to Fonthill Abbey in the way the plan is organized
+round a central octagon; there may also be an echo of Wyatville’s east front of
+Windsor in the composition of the river front. But except for the incorporation of the
+medieval Westminster Hall, the Crypt Chapel, and the Cloister Court, which necessitated
+irregularity along the landward side, the plan is almost as regular and as classically
+logical in its balanced provision for multiple functions as a pupil<a id="r125"></a><a href='#f125' class='c025'><sup>[125]</sup></a> of Durand might
+have developed. Equally regular are the façades and, in the case of the principal front
+towards the river, elaborately symmetrical as well.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The rich Late Gothic detail was provided in incredible profusion by Pugin, who
+worked under Barry against his own developing taste for earlier and less lacy Gothic
+forms. Doubtless, like the towers, this detailing reflects the Picturesque, but the extreme
+regularity of the façades provides also the characteristic reiterations of Romantic Classicism.
+Pugin is supposed to have said that the river front was ‘all Greek’, a considerable
+exaggeration. But just as Highclere shows what Barry’s basic principles of design could
+produce when expressed in the revived Jacobethan mode, so without too great a strain
+one can imagine this front executed with some sort of Renaissance detailing, if hardly in
+columnar Grecian guise.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Commissioned in 1836, the Houses of Parliament rose slowly. The House of Lords
+was opened in 1847; the House of Commons only in 1852, the year of Pugin’s early death.
+Even at the time of Barry’s death in 1860 the whole group was still not finished, although
+his eldest son (Edward Middleton, 1830-80) made but few personal contributions
+when he took over control and finally completed the job later in the decade. During this
+extended period of about thirty years the Puginian phase of the Gothic Revival had been
+initiated and run its entire course; even the succeeding High Victorian Gothic was more
+than half-way over by the mid sixties. Like the Napoleonic monuments of Paris, which
+were also a generation a-building, the Houses of Parliament belong historically to the
+period of their beginning. They are not quite pre-Victorian, since construction above
+ground began only in 1840 after considerable revision of the competition design, but
+they are definitely Early Victorian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not all of Pugin’s own work is as remote in character from the Houses of Parliament
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>as his mature principles would lead one to expect. His first church of any consequence,
+St Marie’s, Derby, of 1838-9, is Perpendicular in style and very crisp and flat in treatment.
+Nevertheless, both in its detailed ‘correctness’ and in Pugin’s real command of
+the national Late Gothic idiom, this church marks a great advance over the work of
+Rickman and the other Gothic architects of the older generation who were still in practice.
+Scarisbrick Hall in Lancashire, a remodelling, is confused by the retention of earlier
+elements and also by a considerable addition made by Pugin’s son (Edward Welby,
+1834-75) in the sixties. But the portions carried out in 1837-52 are quite consonant with
+Pugin’s work done in association with Barry. The great hall is a definitely archaeological
+feature of the plan yet also a feature that would be of great significance in the later
+development of the nineteenth-century house (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Scarisbrick is not exactly <i>anti</i>-Picturesque, comparison with such a great house as Harlaxton
+near Grantham, first designed by Salvin in the Jacobethan mode in 1831 and rising
+under Burn’s supervision from 1838 on, reveals how little the Picturesque really influenced
+Pugin even at the beginning of his career. However, Neo-Tudor Lonsdale Square in
+London, begun by R. C. Carpenter (1812-55) in 1838, is still less Picturesque than Scarisbrick
+because of its extreme regularity. This example makes evident how far other young
+architects—and Carpenter was precisely Pugin’s contemporary—were behind him in understanding
+and exploiting even Late Gothic forms; yet within a very few years Carpenter
+became the most ‘correct’ of Anglican church architects by following Pugin’s lead.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1839 and 1840 Pugin designed two modest churches that provided favourite paradigms
+for Anglo-American church-building for a generation and more. St Oswald’s,
+Old Swan, Liverpool, built in 1840-2, adopts the fourteenth-century English parish-church
+plan with central western tower broach-spired, aisles, deep chancel, and south
+porch, each element being quite clearly expressed in the external composition. Internally
+the effect is low and dark, since Pugin provided no clerestory, roofed the nave with
+much exposed timber, and filled the traceried windows with stained glass. More
+original is St Wilfred’s, Hulme, Manchester, built in 1839-42, in that the tower—never
+completed, alas—was set at the north-west corner. The detail of St Oswald’s is fairly
+elaborate, including a rather rich east window. St Wilfred’s is simpler, with lancet windows
+to avoid the expense of fourteenth-century tracery.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A larger, more complete, and more expensively decorated example of the Old Swan
+model was St Giles’s, Cheadle, of 1841-6 (Plate <a href='#pl052a'>52<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This has a quite magnificent, if
+hardly very original, spired tower and interior walls all patterned in colour. Here Lord
+Shrewsbury, Pugin’s most important patron, provided sufficient funds to furnish the
+church as the architect intended. Pugin’s largest churches, unfortunately, never received
+the carved work, stained glass, and painted decoration that he planned for them. At St
+Barnabas’s, Nottingham, now the Catholic Cathedral there, of 1842-4 he achieved externally
+a rather fine piling up of related masses at the rear, the whole crowned by a
+central tower. For lack of any decoration, however, this is grim without and barren
+within, despite all the spatial interest of the very complex east end.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Pugin, always his own severest critic, was most nearly satisfied with the church that he
+built for himself next door to his own house, the Grange, at Ramsgate.<a id="r126"></a><a href='#f126' class='c025'><sup>[126]</sup></a> The house
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>dates from 1841-3, the church from 1846-51. Externally of Kentish knapped flint and
+internally of Caen stone with a very heavy roof of dark oak, this edifice is worthy of his
+highest standards of revived medieval construction. But it is rather less original and interesting
+in external massing and internal spatial development than such a big bare
+church as St Barnabas’s. To the house we will be returning later (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Pugin’s production is largely concentrated in the years 1837-44, between the two
+periods of his employment by Barry on the Houses of Parliament. By 1844 other architects,
+Anglican and not Roman Catholic, were accepting his principles and rivalling his
+success. G. G. Scott, for example, never a really great architect but a notable self-publicist,
+after modest beginnings designed the Martyrs’ Memorial at Oxford in 1841
+in the form of a fourteenth-century Eleanor Cross and followed up that prominent
+commission by building the large suburban London church of St Giles’s, Camberwell, in
+1842-4. At that time he was still in partnership with Moffatt. Then, in 1844, he signalized
+the international standing of the English Gothic Revival by winning alone the competition
+for the Nikolaikirche in Hamburg, which he carried to completion over the
+years 1845-63.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although the body of this church was all but completely destroyed by bombs, the
+tower and spire still dominate the Hamburg skyline (Plate <a href='#pl052b'>52<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). It is interesting to compare
+this grand scenic accent with the tower and spire of the Petrikirche, almost equally
+prominent, built in 1843-9 by de Chateauneuf and Fersenfeld (Plate <a href='#pl057a'>57<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Although
+built, with a curious echo of London’s characteristic stock brick, of an unpleasantly yellowish
+brick, while the Petrikirche is of a handsome deep-red brick like de Chateauneuf’s
+Alte Post, the silhouette is so enriched with elaborate fourteenth-century stonework—part
+English, part German in derivation—that it almost rivals in richness of
+effect Kemp’s Walter Scott Monument in Edinburgh. Yet the scale is grand, the parts
+well related, and in every way it represents a more advanced, almost mid-century taste,
+in contrast to the simplicity and the geometrical clarity of de Chateauneuf’s square brick
+tower with its plain triangular gables and its very tall and svelte metal-clad spire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From 1845 down to 1855, when Henry Clutton (1819-93) and William Burges
+(1827-81) won the competition for Lille Cathedral in France and G. E. Street (1824-81)
+received the second prize, the pre-eminence of English architects at plausible revived
+Gothic was generally recognized abroad. Though few of the innumerable churches
+built by Scott and his rivals at home in the forties are in any way really memorable, by
+the middle of that decade the characteristics of English church edifices had been completely
+revised, largely thanks to the propaganda of the Cambridge Camden Society.
+There is no more typical nineteenth-century product than a Victorian Gothic church of
+this period built to the Camdenian canon; yet the real achievement of the most original
+architect who designed such churches, Butterfield, belongs to the next, or High Victorian,
+phase (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>). The more Puginian Carpenter, the other favourite architect
+of the Society, who died in 1855, is hardly as interesting a designer—however ‘correct’
+he may be—in such prominent works as St Paul’s in West Street, Brighton, of
+1846-8 and St Mary Magdalen’s, Munster Square, in London of 1849-51, as in what he
+built for Lancing College in 1851-3. There the plain high-roofed ranges with their fine
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>smooth walls of knapped flint and very flat and simple cut-stone dressings have a quality
+of precision quite lacking in most contemporary churches. Almost finer is St John’s
+College, Hurstpierpoint, although largely posthumous in execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Scott, Carpenter, and Butterfield all supplied designs for churches in various parts of
+the British Empire; other English architects emigrated to the Dominions and to the
+United States, carrying with them the doctrine of the Gothic Revival, just as French
+architects half a century earlier had carried a rather different sort of doctrine all over the
+western world. As a symbol of Britain’s major world position, moreover, English
+churches now rose in many Continental cities, from German watering-places and
+French Riviera towns to remote capitals such as Athens and Istanbul. Remarkably alien
+in their foreign contexts, these express the vigour and the assurance, if rarely the real
+creative possibilities, of the Victorian Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Established Church in England was the great patron of the revived Gothic, although
+other denominations were not far behind. But the use of Gothic was by no
+means confined to churches, nor indeed to country houses as it had largely been in the
+late eighteenth century. No other Gothic public buildings rivalled the Houses of Parliament;
+but in 1843-5 Philip Hardwick, designer of the most Grecian of railway stations,
+with his son (P. C., 1822-92) built the Hall and Library of Lincoln’s Inn in London of
+Tudor red brick with black brick diaperings and cream stone trim. This offered a foretaste
+of the external polychromy which would be the sign-manual of the next period of
+revived Gothic in England. An earlier, more severe, sort of Tudor, carried out in stone,
+served Moffatt, Scott’s former partner, for a mansion at No. 19 Park Lane. But this
+house was most exceptional; in the forties London architects and builders generally eschewed
+Gothic of any sort except for churches. Generically medieval, if not specifically
+Gothic, inspiration would eventually play a major part in forming the advanced commercial
+mode of the late fifties and sixties however (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The success that Victorian Gothic, initiated by a Romanist and supported by the
+Catholicizing wing of the Church of England, had with non-Anglicans in England and
+throughout the English-speaking world is surprising. Ritualistic planning, almost the
+essence of the Revival to Pugin and his Camdenian followers, was naturally avoided;
+but the Gothic work of the best Nonconformist architects, such as the Independent
+Church of 1852 in Glasgow by J. T. Emmett, is by no means unworthy of comparison
+with Scott’s, if not the more puristic Carpenter’s. Samuel Hemming of Bristol even employed
+a few touches of Gothic detail on the prefabricated cast-iron churches that he
+exported all over the world from Bristol in the early fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mature Gothic Revival, as has been said, is more anti-Picturesque than Picturesque,
+at least in the realm of theory; as a writer in <i>The Ecclesiologist</i> expressed the matter
+succinctly, ‘The true picturesque derives from the sternest utility.’ Yet the revived
+Gothic could only be expected to appeal widely to architects and to a public who had long
+fully accepted the Picturesque point of view. All its irregularity and variety of silhouette,
+its plastically complex organization and its colouristic decoration, its textural exploitation
+of various traditional and even near-rustic materials is profoundly opposed to the
+clear and cool ideals of Romantic Classicism, but fully consonant with the Picturesque.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>The significance of the English Gothic Revival of the thirties and forties is manifold,
+and no two critics will agree how to assess it. Certainly the functional doctrines of the
+Revival and its renewed devotion to honest expression of real construction remain of
+great importance, even though much of this runs parallel to—if, indeed, it does not
+follow from—the more rationalistic aspects of Romantic Classical theory. In this way
+the Revival made a positive historical contribution, if not perhaps as new and original a
+one as has sometimes been maintained in recent years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Negatively, the English Gothic Revival was clearly of very great effectiveness as a solvent,
+not only of the rigidities and conventionalities of Romantic Classicism, but also of
+the older and deeper Classical traditions that had been revived by the Renaissance and
+maintained for several centuries. The lack of an equally effective solvent on the Continent
+helps to explain why the revolutionary developments of the next period, particularly
+in the domestic and in the commercial fields, were so largely Anglo-American.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even in the twentieth century it may be said that part of the profound difference between
+a Wright and a Perret lay in the fact that one had the tradition of the English
+Gothic Revival in his blood—largely through reading Ruskin—while the other had not
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch18'>18</a> and <a href='#ch19'>19</a>). Still later, the California ‘Bay Region School’ of the 1930s
+and 1940s implies a Gothic Revival background, however little its leaders may be aware
+of the fact; the coeval ‘Carioca School’ of Brazil manifestly has no such background
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). It is therefore of more consequence to see how the ideals of the Picturesque,
+and concurrently the anti-Picturesque doctrines of the Gothic Revival, were
+accepted in the United States, than to give comparable attention to Europe, where
+neither the Picturesque nor the Gothic Revival were very productive of buildings of distinction.
+For that matter, most of the American buildings that fall under these rubrics
+are but feeble parodies of English originals. The Greek Revival architects of America
+were no unworthy rivals of the Europeans of their day; the exponents of the Picturesque
+and the followers of Pugin—sometimes the same men—produced little of lasting value.
+But when seen in relation to the later development of the American house, the contribution
+of the Picturesque period, lasting in America down to the Civil War and even
+beyond, is of real significance (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was not much eighteenth- or very early nineteenth-century Gothick of consequence
+in America. Latrobe’s Sedgeley of 1798, Strickland’s Masonic Hall in Philadelphia
+of 1809-11, and Bulfinch’s contemporary Federal Street Church in Boston were
+none of them of much intrinsic interest, and all are now destroyed. Other early manifestations
+of the Picturesque were even rarer, and it was not until the thirties that a concerted
+Gothic movement got under way. Haviland’s Eastern Penitentiary of 1821-9 was
+very modestly Castellated; Strickland’s St Stephen’s in Philadelphia, a rather gaunt two-towered
+red-brick structure of 1822-3, more or less Perpendicular, represents but a
+slight advance in plausibility over his Masonic Hall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The finest works of the next decade are a group of churches in and around Boston, all
+built of granite. Willard’s Bowdoin Street Church in Boston of 1830 and St Peter’s of
+1833 and the First Unitarian or North Church of 1836-7, both in Salem, Mass., are the
+best extant examples (Plate <a href='#pl055a'>55<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The material discouraged detail, but provided, when
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>used rock-faced, an almost antediluvian ruggedness. Tracery is generally of wood and
+much simplified; the most characteristic decorative features are very plain crenellations
+and occasional quatrefoil openings. Thus, on the whole, these monuments are closer
+to Romantic Classicism than to the Picturesque and have little in common with English
+work of their own day or even of the preceding period. However, the wooden Gothic
+of this period is in general of a rather lacy Late Georgian order.<a id="r127"></a><a href='#f127' class='c025'><sup>[127]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mid thirties saw some quite elaborate Gothic houses of stone, such as A. J.
+Davis’s Blythewood of 1834 at Annandale, N.Y., and Oaklands, built by Richard Upjohn
+(1802-78) the next year at Gardiner, Maine. Both architects were capable of designing
+at the very same time Greek edifices of considerably higher quality—Davis’s Indiana
+State Capitol of 1831-5 at Indianapolis and Upjohn’s Samuel Farrer house of 1836 at
+Bangor, Maine, for example—but both were already leaders in the rising revolt against
+the Grecian.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Upjohn’s Trinity Church in New York completed in 1846 is the American
+analogue of Pugin’s St Marie’s, Derby, and by no means inferior
+despite its plaster vaults (Plate <a href='#pl053a'>53<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). With Trinity to his credit
+Upjohn, English-born but not English-trained, became the acknowledged
+leader of the American ecclesiologists. At Kingscote, Newport, R.I.,
+which he built in 1841, Upjohn also rivalled Davis as a designer of
+Picturesque Gothic houses. But he was almost equally addicted to
+Italianate forms, even in the church-building
+field, for there his rigid ecclesiological principles made him unwilling to use
+Gothic except for Episcopalians. His non-Gothic work ranges from a vague sort of
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i>, as illustrated in his Congregational Church of the Pilgrims in Brooklyn
+of 1844-6, once provided with a highly original spire of scalloped outline, and the more
+Germanic Bowdoin College Chapel in Brunswick, Maine, of 1844-55, to Italian Villas,
+such as that built in Newport, R.I., for Edward King in 1845-7 (now the Free Library),
+and even to public buildings in the Italian Villa mode, such as his City Hall in Utica,
+N.Y., of 1852-3 (Plate <a href='#pl053b'>53<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). His basilican St Paul’s in Baltimore, Maryland, of 1852-6—its
+style is rather surprising, since the parish was Episcopalian—is more successful than
+most of his later Gothic churches. His Corn Exchange Bank of 1854 in New York,
+round-arched if not exactly <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, was one of the most distinguished early approaches
+to the use of an arcaded mode for commercial building (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Of
+very similar character and comparable quality was the H. E. Pierrepont house in Brooklyn
+completed in 1857.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But Upjohn’s reputation, rightly or wrongly, is based on his Gothic churches. Externally
+these are usually quite close to contemporary Camdenian models; internally
+they are often distinguished by very original—and also very awkward—wooden arcades
+rising up to the open wooden roofs above. St Mary’s, Burlington, NJ., of 1846-54 is
+perhaps the most attractive and English-looking of his village churches, the modest
+cruciform plan culminating in a very simple but delicate spire over the crossing. Not
+least significant, moreover, are Upjohn’s still more modest wooden churches<a id="r128"></a><a href='#f128' class='c025'><sup>[128]</sup></a> of
+vertical board-and-batten construction, such as St Paul’s in Brunswick, Maine, of
+1845. They illustrate, like his openwork wooden arcades, a real interest in expressing the
+stick character of American carpentry. This interest is intellectually similar to, but visually
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>very different from, Pugin’s devotion to the direct expression of masonry construction.
+At building churches in stone British immigrants like Notman and Frank Wills (1827-?)<a id="r129"></a><a href='#f129' class='c025'><sup>[129]</sup></a>
+were not surprisingly Upjohn’s rivals in the quality of their craftsmanship.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Running parallel with Upjohn’s career is that of Davis, but with the difference that he
+built few churches and, as Ithiel Town’s former partner, continued on occasion, even
+after the latter’s retirement in 1835, to provide Grecian as well as Gothic designs. He was
+perhaps most successful, however, with Italian Villas such as the Munn house in Utica,
+N.Y., or the E. C. Litchfield house in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, N.Y., both of 1854. At
+Belmead, in Powhatan County, Virginia, built in 1845, he introduced Manorial Gothic
+to the southern plantation, but this mode never rivalled the Grecian peripteral temple in
+popularity in the South. Walnut Wood, the Harral house in Bridgeport, Conn., of
+1846, was more typical and long retained all its original furnishings. With the building
+of Ericstan, the John J. Herrick house in Tarrytown, N.Y., in 1855 Davis brought the
+fake castle to the Hudson River valley—so frequently compared to that of the Rhine and
+favourite subject in these years of a new American school of landscape painters of the
+most Picturesque order. As a scenic embellishment Ericstan was not unlike the ruins that
+Thomas Cole introduced in his most Romantic and imaginary landscapes.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite Davis’s ranging activity, extending westward into Kentucky and Michigan,
+elaborate Gothic houses, whether Castellated or manorially Tudor, were relatively rare
+in the America of the forties and fifties. But a type of gabled cottage with a front veranda
+and elaborate traceried barge-boards was rather popular. This is well represented by
+the extant Henry Delamater house in Rhinebeck, N.Y., and also by that of William J.
+Rotch of 1845 in New Bedford, Mass., both by Davis himself. The mode was energetically
+supported by Davis’s great friend, the landscape gardener and architectural critic
+A. J. Downing (1815-52).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Downing was a characteristic proponent of the Picturesque point of view, leaning
+heavily on earlier English writers. The designs for Picturesque houses, some by Davis,
+some by Notman, one at least—the King Villa—by Upjohn, and others presumably by
+himself, illustrated in Downing’s two house-pattern books<a id="r130"></a><a href='#f130' class='c025'><sup>[130]</sup></a> were quite as likely to be
+towered Italian Villas as Tudor Cottages or more pretentiously Gothic designs. Most
+significant of all are those called Bracketted Cottages by Downing for which he recommended
+the board-and-batten<a id="r131"></a><a href='#f131' class='c025'><sup>[131]</sup></a> external finish that Upjohn later took up for modest
+wooden churches. But these, which are neither very Picturesque—at least with the
+capital P—nor yet at all Gothic, are better considered in relation to the general development
+of Anglo-American house-design in the nineteenth century (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Rare in execution, as are indeed all the more exotic Picturesque modes, but also significant
+for its later influence, was the Swiss Chalet. Although chalets were illustrated in
+the English Villa books of P. F. Robinson (1776-1858)<a id="r132"></a><a href='#f132' class='c025'><sup>[132]</sup></a> and others from the twenties,
+the finest extant American example is fairly late, the Willoughby house in Newport,
+R.I., of 1854. As this is by Eidlitz, it may be presumed to derive from Swiss<a id="r133"></a><a href='#f133' class='c025'><sup>[133]</sup></a> or German
+sources rather than from Robinson’s or other English designs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus at Newport, already rising towards its later position as the premier American
+summer resort, there were by the time the Civil War broke out in the early sixties
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>examples of the Tudor Cottage (Upjohn’s Kingscote), the towered Italian Villa (his
+Edward King House)—as for that matter also the more Barryesque symmetrical villa
+without tower, the Parish House of 1851-2 by the English-trained Calvert Vaux (1824-95)<a id="r134"></a><a href='#f134' class='c025'><sup>[134]</sup></a>—and
+the Swiss Chalet, not to speak of other more formal houses which here
+in Newport began to show very early the influence of the French Second Empire. There
+were also several big hotels of this period, now all destroyed. Two Grecian examples
+have been mentioned earlier; but the second Ocean House, built by Warren in 1845,
+was Gothic, a gargantuan version of a Davis-Downing Tudor Cottage. On this the
+Tudoresque veranda piers were carried to a fantastic height in naïve competition with
+the columned porticoes of the previous Ocean House and the Atlantic House.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If there were in America no castles of the scale and plausibility of Salvin’s Peckforton,
+no pavilions of the pseudo-oriental magnificence of Nash’s at Brighton, the will to build
+them was none the less present. Ericstan has already been mentioned; while at Bridgeport,
+Conn., P. T. Barnum erected Iranistan in 1847-8 in conscious emulation of the
+Regent’s pleasure dome at Brighton from designs he had obtained in England. This was
+carried out by Eidlitz. Longwood, near Natchez, Mississippi, by Samuel Sloan (1815-84),
+begun in 1860, is even more ambitiously oriental, but was left unfinished when
+the Civil War broke out the next year.<a id="r135"></a><a href='#f135' class='c025'><sup>[135]</sup></a> Rather curiously the Smithsonian Institution in
+Washington, set down like an enormous garden fabrick in L’Enfant’s Mall near the
+Mills obelisk, was at the insistence of its director, Robert Dale Owen,<a id="r136"></a><a href='#f136' class='c025'><sup>[136]</sup></a> designed as a
+Norman castle by James Renwick (1818-95). Built in 1848-9 of brownstone, this is a
+very monumental manifestation of the Picturesque and one of the more surprising
+features of a capital otherwise mostly Classical in its architecture. On the whole the
+happiest American achievements in the Picturesque vein were the towered Italian Villas,
+from Notman’s Doane house of the mid thirties down through Upjohn’s City Hall in
+Utica of the early fifties and Davis’s still later houses in the East and the Middle West
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch05'>5</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Gothic Revival in America, deriving after 1840 from Pugin and the Camdenians,
+was a much more alien movement than the Greek Revival. In the British Dominions
+and Colonies, even though the characteristic production of this period is in many ways
+more similar to that of the United States than to that of the homeland, the Neo-Gothic
+achievement appears somewhat less exotic. However, St John’s in Hobart, Tasmania, by
+John Lee Archer, which was completed in 1835 in the most rudimentary sort of Commissioners’
+Gothic, is far inferior to the granite churches of its period in the Boston
+area. From that to Holy Trinity in Hobart, completed by James Blackburn in 1847,
+the advance in mere competence is very evident. Yet, as in the case of Upjohn in
+America, the Norman church that Blackburn built for the Presbyterians of Glenorchy
+and even more his Congregational Church at Newtown, an asymmetrically towered
+Italian Villa edifice, may well be preferred to his Gothic work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Greenway’s Government House Stables of 1817-19 in Sydney, Australia, were already
+Castellated, but in a modest eighteenth-century way. M. W. Lewis’s Camden church
+of 1840-9 was based on plans sent out by Blore and simply executed in red brick. In
+W. W. Wardell (1823-99), who emigrated as late as 1858, Australia finally obtained
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>an experienced Neo-Gothic architect of real ability. He had already made his mark in
+England a decade before his departure with Our Lady of Victories, Clapham, in London;
+but even that very decent early church of his required no specific mention in the English
+section of this chapter. His Australian work is too late to be considered here
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Across the Atlantic, communications were doubtless quicker than with the Antipodes,
+and the cultural climate of Canada was undoubtedly more similar to that of the homeland.
+The first important Neo-Gothic work in Canada, however, was built for the
+French and not the British community. Notre Dame, the Catholic Cathedral of Montreal,
+was originally designed and erected by an Irish architect, James O’Donnell (1774-1830),
+in 1824-9 somewhat to the disgust of most French Canadians, who considered
+O’Donnell’s Gothic to be Anglican when in fact it was merely Georgian. Equipped
+later with western towers and redecorated internally with operatic sumptuousness in the
+seventies, it is not easy to realize just what Notre Dame was like when O’Donnell completed
+it. It was bigger, certainly, but not more advanced than the New England
+churches of a few years later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1845 Wills arrived in Canada from England and began the Anglican Cathedral
+at Fredericton, New Brunswick, as a moderate-sized cruciform parish-church with
+central tower, the whole of rather run-of-the-mill Camdenian character despite its pretensions.
+Very similar, but considerably larger and richer, is the Montreal cathedral
+which he began a decade later in 1856. His American churches, though smaller and less
+elaborate, have somewhat more character. Canadians must have sensed Wills’s inadequacy
+almost at once, for both Butterfield and G. G. Scott were asked to send out
+church designs in the forties. The former provided in 1848 a scheme for a more elaborate
+east end for Wills’s Fredericton Cathedral, which had been started only three years before.
+Scott’s Cathedral in St John’s, Newfoundland, initiated in 1846, deserves a relatively
+important place in the roster of his churches as Butterfield’s New Brunswick work
+does not. But this large edifice was completed only some forty years later by his son
+(G. G. II, 1839-97). Even the stone used here was imported from Scotland.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As in the United States, there is plenty of more-or-less Gothic domestic work in
+Canada, most of it relatively late. An early and rather pretentious secular edifice was the
+so-called Old Building of Trinity College, Toronto, erected in 1851 by Kivas Tully
+(1820-1905). This was a by no means incompetent example of Collegiate Gothic, but
+more like Wilkins’s or Rickman’s work of the twenties at Cambridge than the advanced
+Camdenian edifices of its own period. Canadian Neo-Gothic rose to a certain autochthonous
+distinction only in the next period (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If early illustrations of the Picturesque point of view and of the mature Gothic Revival
+are on the whole of minor interest in the English-speaking world outside Great Britain,
+that whole world from California to Tasmania was absorbing the propaganda of the
+English exponents of the Picturesque and the Gothic Revival. This had its effect in the
+succeeding period when the High Victorian Gothic of England was exploited to more
+considerable purpose than the Neo-Gothic of the Early Victorian period. By the time a
+great English critic came to the support of the Gothic Revival, John Ruskin (1819-1900),
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>he had almost from the original publication of his <i>Seven Lamps of Architecture</i> in
+1849 more readers beyond the seas than at home.<a id="r137"></a><a href='#f137' class='c025'><sup>[137]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Neither the Picturesque nor the Gothic Revival has the same importance on the
+Continent of Europe as in English-speaking countries. The Picturesque point of view
+was carried abroad by the great British artistic invention of the eighteenth century, the
+English garden—<i>jardin anglais</i>, <i>englischer Garten</i>, <i>giardino inglese</i>, <i>jardin inglès</i>, etc., to
+muster the various well-established and revelatory foreign terms for the more or less
+naturalistic mode that succeeded the architecturally ordered French gardens of the Le
+Nôtre type. By 1800 the Picturesque was as familiar in theory as were the international
+tenets of Romantic Classicism. But for all the garden fabricks that were built in Europe
+in the English taste, the point of view tended to remain alien. Moreover, from the continuance
+of Orléans Cathedral<a id="r138"></a><a href='#f138' class='c025'><sup>[138]</sup></a> in Gothic, ordered as early as 1707 by Louis XIV
+though not finally finished until 1829, to Schinkel’s painted Gothic visions of the opening
+of the nineteenth century, there is no lack of evidence of Continental interest in
+Gothic forms. In France there was also a very considerable theoretical interest in Gothic
+methods of construction that can hardly be matched in eighteenth-century England (see
+Introduction). But there followed in the early decades of the nineteenth century no
+such effective crystallization of an earlier dilettante interest in the Gothic as in England,
+no popular fad for building fake castles, no flood of cheap Commissioners’ Churches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet, in France as in England, a new and more serious phase of the Gothic Revival did
+open in the late thirties, stimulated by the ideals of Catholic Revival of a series of writers
+from Chateaubriand to Montalembert. No great Gothic public monument like the
+Houses of Parliament in London was initiated in these years in Paris—nor for that matter
+at any later date—but several churches designed around 1840 were at least intended to be
+as exemplary as Pugin’s; they were also considerably more ambitious in their size and
+their elaboration than most of those his Catholic clients and the Camdenians’ Anglican
+ones were sponsoring in England at this point.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A curious example of the change in taste is the Chapelle-Saint-Louis at Dreux.<a id="r139"></a><a href='#f139' class='c025'><sup>[139]</sup></a> The
+original chapel was built in 1816-22 by an architect named Cramail (or Cramailler) as a
+Classical rotunda to serve as the mausoleum of the Orléans family. In 1839 Louis Philippe
+ordered its remodelling and enlargement in Gothic style by P.-B. Lefranc (1795-1856),
+desiring thus to associate the Orleanist dynasty with the medieval glories of French
+royalty in a manner already fashionable<a id="r140"></a><a href='#f140' class='c025'><sup>[140]</sup></a> with intellectuals to the left and to the right, if
+not with many architects. The new exterior, completed in 1848 just as the Orléans rule
+came to an end, is in a very lacy and unplausible sort of Gothick, not without a certain
+still rather eighteenth-century Rococo charm but quite inharmonious with the Classical
+interior. Like another Royal mausoleum of these years, the Chapelle-Saint-Ferdinand in
+the Avenue Pershing in Neuilly, built in 1843 in memory of an Orléans prince who had
+been killed in an accident near its site, the Chapelle-Saint-Louis has stained glass windows
+designed in 1844 by no less an artist than Ingres. These are even less appropriate in
+association with Lefranc’s Gothic than with the Romanesquoid mode that the elderly
+Fontaine—who knew, like Talleyrand, how to maintain his position under several
+successive regimes—used for the Neuilly chapel. They are hardly superior in quality,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>moreover, to the glass, whether imported from Germany or produced locally, that was
+being used in the early forties in England for Neo-Gothic churches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A more important Gothic project of this date than the Chapelle-Saint-Louis was that
+for the large new Paris church of Sainte-Clotilde prepared in 1840 by F.-C. Gau (1790-1853),
+German-born but a pupil of Lebas. Doubts as to the extensive use of iron proposed
+by Gau held up the initiation of the construction of Sainte-Clotilde until 1846,
+so that several provincial Neo-Gothic edifices of some consequence were executed first.
+These may be compared, but only to their disadvantage, with Pugin’s churches of
+around 1840 as regards their plausibility, their intrinsic architectonic qualities, and the
+elegance of their detail. However, several of them are larger and more ambitious—being
+Catholic churches in a Catholic country—than are even his various cathedrals.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In any case the character of real Gothic architecture in France, as in most other European
+countries, made unlikely a programme of revival based chiefly on parish churches
+in the way of Pugin’s. The Continental Middle Ages had most notably produced cathedrals,
+and it was for new churches of near-cathedral scale that the re-use of Gothic was
+likely to be proposed. Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours, built by J.-E. Barthélémy (1799-1868)
+in 1840-7 on the heights of Ste Cathérine above Rouen, opens the serious phase
+of the Revival in France. It has a superb site and is best appreciated from a considerable
+distance, but the silhouette is not happy and the execution is rather hard and cold. Saint-Nicholas
+at Nantes was begun in 1839 just before the Rouen church by L.-A. Piel
+(1808-41), a confused Romantic character who died a monk, and taken over in 1843
+by J.-B.-A. Lassus (1807-57), a pupil of Lebas and Henri Labrouste. It is very hard to
+accept this church as even in part the production of Lassus, the erudite archaeologist who
+brought out in 1842 the first volume of a major monograph on Chartres Cathedral and
+who undertook in 1845, together with the better-known E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc (1814-79),
+the restoration of Notre-Dame in Paris after sharing with Duban the responsibility
+for restoring the Sainte-Chapelle. Rather more plausible—at least in the sense that it
+merges fairly successfully with the original fourteenth-century nave to which it is
+attached—is the façade of Saint-Ouen at Rouen built in 1845-51 by H.-C.-M. Grégoire
+(1791-1854), a pupil of Percier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sainte-Clotilde was finally begun in 1846, as has been noted, and completed after
+Gau’s death by Ballu in 1857 (Plate <a href='#pl055b'>55<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This ambitious urban church of cathedral
+scale lacks almost as completely as those just mentioned the personal qualities of design
+and the integrity of revived medieval craftsmanship that give character, if not always
+distinction, to the churches of Pugin, Carpenter, and other leading English Gothic Revivalists
+of the forties. Nor does it have the grandeur of proportion of Scott’s Nikolaikirche
+in Hamburg, to which it is more comparable in size and pretension (Plate <a href='#pl052b'>52<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+The style is Rayonnant, or French fourteenth-century, and the material good freestone,
+but deadly mechanical and quite characterless in the detailing. The parts seem somehow
+too large for the whole. Ballu’s west towers, for example, are excessively tall for so
+stubby a plan, and the chapel-surrounded chevet is too elaborate for even an urban
+parish church.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two later churches by Lassus, Saint-Nicholas at Moulins, built in collaboration with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>L.-D.-G. Esmonnot (1807-80) in 1849, and Saint-Pierre at Dijon of 1853 hardly rival
+Sainte-Clotilde in size, elaboration, or even plausibility. Viollet-le-Duc was rather more
+of an executant architect than Lassus, even though in this decade and the next most of
+his vast energy and very considerable archaeological knowledge went into the restoration
+of medieval monuments. At Notre-Dame in Paris the Chapter House that he designed
+is a wholly new construction of 1847 not unworthy of comparison with the best
+work of Scott in these years. The block of flats (Plate <a href='#pl056'>56</a>) he built at 28 Rue de Berlin
+(now de Liège) in Paris in 1846-8—his first executed building—may better be compared
+with the most advanced English secular Gothic of its date, Salvin’s Peckforton, say, or
+Butterfield’s St Augustine’s College, Canterbury. The front is so simple and straightforward
+in composition that it fits between more conventional façades with no awkwardness,
+and the rather plain detailing has the ‘realism’ that was coming to be
+admired by this date in the most advanced English circles.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Romanesquoid design of Fontaine’s Chapelle-Saint-Ferdinand of 1843 has been
+mentioned. The use of such forms was in the forties even more exceptional in France
+than in England. In 1852 Didron estimated—probably with some exaggeration—that
+over two hundred Neo-Gothic churches had been built or were building in France, a
+record which compares statistically, if in no other way, with English church production
+in this period. None of them, however, is as impressive to later eyes as Saint-Paul at
+Nîmes, which follows with notable success the alternative Romanesquoid mode of Fontaine’s
+chapel. C.-A. Questel (1807-88), a pupil of Blouet and Duban, the architect of
+this church, had evidently studied the Romanesque with the care and enthusiasm usually
+lavished on the Gothic by his generation, and the result is so great an advance over Fontaine’s
+work that the resemblance is merely nominal. Thus might the Camdenians have
+hoped to build had they considered the twelfth-century Romanesque of France as
+worthy of conscientious emulation as the fourteenth-century Gothic of England. Saint-Paul
+is a large cruciform edifice, rib-vaulted throughout in a proto-Gothic way, and
+crowned with a great central lantern. The detail is plausible in its design, neither too
+skimpy nor too elaborate, although the execution lacks any real feeling for medieval
+craftsmanship in stone. Questel’s church, however, is as much of an exception as Fontaine’s
+chapel. No Romanesque Revival got under way in the forties in France in the
+way that one did to a certain extent in Germany, and the few other Romanesquoid
+churches of high quality belong to the next period (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Minor evidence of French interest—and rising interest—in the Picturesque is not hard
+to find in these decades, but that is all there is. No Picturesque modes comparable to
+those of the Anglo-Saxon world became widely popular. In the first decade of the century
+the brothers Caccault built at Clisson<a id="r141"></a><a href='#f141' class='c025'><sup>[141]</sup></a> in the Vendée a whole village based on
+their memories of the Roman Campagna, a more considerable essay in the Italian Villa
+vein than anything carried out in England. But the asymmetrically towered Italian
+Villa<a id="r142"></a><a href='#f142' class='c025'><sup>[142]</sup></a> did not mature in France in the way that it did in England, Germany, and the
+United States. Séheult’s <i>Recueil</i> of 1821, of which a second edition appeared in 1847, is
+one of the earliest and richest repositories of inspiration drawn from rustic Italian
+building; but the edifices Séheult illustrated, however Picturesque in other ways, are all
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>symmetrical and quite in the Durand tradition. J.-J. Lequeu (1758-<i>c.</i> 1824)<a id="r143"></a><a href='#f143' class='c025'><sup>[143]</sup></a> had produced
+bolder projects a generation earlier. These are often asymmetrical, generally
+quite wildly eclectic, and very vigorously plastic; but such things rarely, if ever, came
+to execution in France except as garden fabricks. Lequeu had no success at all in his
+later years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Moreover, the Rustic Cottage mode seems to have struck no real roots in France, even
+though the painter Hubert Robert and the architect Richard Mique (1728-94), in designing
+the fabricks of Marie Antoinette’s Hameau at the Petit Trianon in 1783-6, had
+followed native rather than English rural models. Under the Restoration and the July
+Monarchy inspiration came generally from English Cottage books. Visconti’s Château
+de Lussy, S.-et-M., of 1844, though a fairly large structure, is really in the English Cottage
+mode with an asymmetrically organized plan and an irregularly composed exterior.
+This is almost unique and, in any case, quite undistinguished. A more vigorous flow of
+rustic influence entered France via Alsace and directly from Switzerland. The Chalet aux
+Loges of 1837 by Bonneau near Versailles was, as its name implies, a Swiss Chalet, but it
+quite lacked the integrity of structural expression and the originality of plastic organization
+of Eidlitz’s Willoughby house in Newport, R.I., which is, of course, considerably
+later in date. Occasional imitations of the <i>style François I</i>, such as the already mentioned
+country house by Canissié at Draveil, S.-et-O., have some irregularity both of outline
+and of plan; but in general the <i>François I</i> of the July Monarchy, like so much of the
+Jacobethan of Early Victorian England, is Picturesque only in detail, not in general
+conception.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1840 the elder Bridant, who also built Chalets in the succeeding years around the
+lake at Enghien, a watering-place on the outskirts of Paris, built a Gothic ‘Castel’ on the
+plain of Passy, then a fairly open suburb. This was markedly asymmetrical and consistently
+medieval in detail. The contemporary fame of this enlarged garden fabrick—for
+such it really was—indicates its unique position in contemporary production, as unique
+as Moffatt’s Gothic house in Park Lane in London. L.-M. Boltz, an architect of Alsatian
+if not German origin but a pupil of Henri Labrouste, had some success with a less feudal
+mode, half-timbered and asymmetrical, in the forties—a house of 1842 at Champeaux,
+S.-et-M., was typical.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This modest influx into France of Picturesque models from contemporary Germany
+as well as from contemporary England might lead one to assume that the Picturesque, if
+not the Gothic Revival, was more significant in Central Europe. In Germany and
+Austria, however, as also in Scandinavia, Picturesque and medievalizing tendencies
+mostly merged with Romantic Classicism in the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> rather than standing
+apart, thus constituting neither an opposition eventually rising to triumph in the English
+way, nor a mere gesture of aberrant protest as in France.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Schinkel’s interest in Gothic has already been touched on, but none of his more ambitious
+Gothic projects ever got beyond the drawing-board (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>). There are
+fewer such, in any case, belonging to his later than to his earlier years. Moreover, the
+Gothic of the early projects naturally belongs to the contemporary High Romantic
+world of Wyatt’s Fonthill Abbey and Latrobe’s alternative design for the Baltimore
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>Cathedral, not to the ethical and archaeological milieu of Pugin and the Camdenians.
+Most of the virtues—by no means negligible—of his Berlin Werder Church of the
+twenties are not Gothic virtues—not at any rate as Englishmen of the succeeding decades
+understood them—they are rather Romantic Classical virtues. The principal interest
+of his earlier Kreuzberg Memorial lies in its cast-iron material, a material anathema
+to Pugin as a ‘modernistic’ innovation. The Babelsberg Schloss, based principally
+on the modern castles that he saw on his visit to England in 1826, makes no pretensions
+to archaeological correctness in the way of Pugin’s Alton Castle of about 1840 or Salvin’s
+still later Peckforton.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A few Castellated mansions of more local inspiration, such as Hohenschwangau in
+Upper Bavaria, as reconstructed by J. D. Ohlmüller (1791-1839) in 1832-7, are closer
+in spirit to Pugin’s and Salvin’s ideals. Hohenschwangau, like certain castles built in
+this period on the Rhine, exploits the Picturesque possibilities of a fine site and the nostalgic
+overtones of a district with a romantic medieval past. Schloss Berg in Bavaria,
+which owes its present very domesticated Gothic character to the work done there by
+Eduard Riedel (1813-85) in 1849-51, hardly deserves mention in this connexion any
+more than do Schinkel’s more or less medievalizing country houses, so crisp and regular
+is their design. Curiously enough, the vast Schloss at Schwerin, begun by G. A. Demmler
+(1804-86) in 1844, is a more elaborate and extensive example of <i>François I</i> than anything
+this period produced in France (Plate <a href='#pl057b'>57<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). It is also notably Picturesque, with
+innumerable towers and gables disposed around the sides of an irregularly polygonal
+court. Stüler carried this extraordinary pile to completion after Demmler left Schwerin
+in 1851. Not very Picturesque, but representing another sort of medievalism, were two
+Venetian Gothic houses Am Elbberg in Dresden, built with considerable archaeological
+plausibility by an architect named Ehrhardt in the mid forties. They provide a curious
+premonition of Ruskin and the High Victorian Gothic of England (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).
+Semper’s Gothic Cholera Fountain of 1843 in Dresden has already been mentioned.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As in France, much energy went at this time into the restoration and completion
+of major medieval churches in Germany. Most notable in this connexion was the
+work on Cologne Cathedral begun in 1824 by F. A. Ahlert (1788-1833), continued by
+E. F. Zwirner (1802-61), and finally completed by Richard Voigtel (1829-1902) in 1880.
+Assisting Zwirner, who had worked earlier under Schinkel on the Kolberg Town Hall,
+was (among others) Friedrich von Schmidt (1825-91), after 1860 the most important
+Gothic Revivalist in Austria (see Chapters <a href='#ch08'>8</a> and <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). No more than in France did this
+activity in ‘productive archaeology’ in Germany lead to new building of much interest,
+not at least until Schmidt began to work in Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ohlmüller’s Mariahilfkirche outside Munich, begun in 1831 and completed after his
+death by Ziebland, the next considerable essay in ecclesiastical Gothic in Germany after
+Schinkel’s Berlin church, is certainly much less appealing than is his mountain castle.
+The hall-church form, authentically German though it was, produced a clumsily proportioned
+mass, at the front of which a stubby tower ending in an openwork spire
+seems to be ‘riding the roof’. This church is as ‘advanced’, in the sense of being fairly
+plausible archaeologically, as Barthélémy’s Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours built a decade
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>later, but that is about all one can say for it. It certainly does not stand up to comparison
+with Rickman’s or Savage’s English churches of the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>De Chateauneuf’s Petrikirche in Hamburg begun in 1843, or at least its tower, has
+already been mentioned (Plate <a href='#pl057a'>57<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This is superior in design, and in some ways also
+better built, to most of Pugin’s churches of this date. It is, for example, rib-vaulted
+throughout in a quite plain but very competent way. The interior lacks, however, the
+strikingly simple proportions and the warm colour of the red brick exterior; above all,
+the complex spatial development of the transeptal members lacks clarity, although the
+plan was probably taken over from the medieval Petrikirche that had been burned. The
+Gothic churches of K. A. von Heideloff (1788-1865), beginning with his Catholic
+church in Leipzig built in the Weststrasse there in 1845-7, are hardly above the level of
+Ohlmüller’s and certainly much less successful than the Petrikirche, though Heideloff
+had a much higher reputation than de Chateauneuf with contemporaries as a specialist
+at Gothic on account of his published studies of medieval architecture.<a id="r144"></a><a href='#f144' class='c025'><sup>[144]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Berlin most of the new churches of this period by Stüler, Strack, and others were
+in a Romanesquoid version of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. Of these elaborated and coarsened versions
+of Schinkel’s suburban-church projects of a decade earlier, Stüler’s Jacobikirche of
+1844-5 was basilican in plan; his Markuskirche, begun in 1848, was of the central type
+but with a tall campanile rising at one side. The Berlin Petrikirche, built by Strack in
+1846-50, was Gothic, however, and even clumsier than Ohlmüller’s much earlier
+Mariahilfkirche, which it very closely resembles. Nor was Stüler’s one important essay
+in Gothic, the Bartholomäuskirche, begun in 1854 and completed by Friedrich Adler
+(1827-?) in 1858, much better. In general, the first half of the century was well over
+before Gothic churches of any great size and pretension were built either in Germany
+or Austria. The largest and most prominent, the Votivkirche in Vienna (Plate <a href='#pl099a'>99<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), for
+the designing of which Heinrich von Ferstel (1828-83) won the competition in 1853
+when he was only twenty-five, was not begun until 1856 nor completed until 1879
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In England the Picturesque and the Gothic Revival were effective solvents of Romantic
+Classicism, because both, and particularly the latter, were consciously nationalistic,
+emphasizing in an increasingly nationalistic period the recovery of local rather than of
+universal building traditions. For a good part of their local acceptability they were dependent,
+moreover, on certain warm connotations which their visual forms had for
+English patrons. The Rustic Cottage, the Tudor Parsonage, the Castellated Mansion had
+all, supposedly, been autochthonous products of the insular past. On the other hand,
+even though the English of the eighteenth century had adopted as their own such
+foreign painters as Claude and Poussin, from whose canvases the Italian Villa mode
+principally derived both its forms and its prestige, that mode was certainly not English
+in its ultimate prototypes. It is readily understandable, therefore,
+that it was the Italian Villa, of all the established vehicles of the
+Picturesque, which had the greatest success in a Germany romantically
+mad about Italy. But such superb compositions as the Court Gardener’s
+House by Schinkel (Plate <a href='#pl014a'>14<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) or Persius’s
+Friedenskirche at Potsdam (Plate <a href='#pl015'>15</a>), perhaps the highest
+international achievements in the Picturesque genre, owed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>only their basic concept, if even that, to England. Their elements were for the most part
+borrowed directly from Italian sources, and they were carefully composed according to
+a formal discipline not inconsonant with the standards of Romantic Classicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Swiss Chalet, an even more alien mode in England than the Italian Villa, was a
+native one in Central Europe. Hence one finds Schinkel first, and then his pupils, exploiting
+it with considerable virtuosity as the <i>Tirolerhäuschen</i>. Indeed, the particular form
+of wooden fretwork which came to be called ‘gingerbread’ in English, one of the
+favourite forms of later Picturesque detail everywhere in the western world from
+Russia to America, is more likely to be derived from Alpine chalets via nineteenth-century
+German than via nineteenth-century English intermediaries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Romantic Classicism, being founded on the basic Western European heritage of
+Greece and Rome, could readily broaden its sources to include the Early Christian and
+the Italian Renaissance. But to men of the early nineteenth century the Gothic was not a
+universal European style as we are likely to consider it today; it was ‘Early English’ or
+‘Altteutsch’ or (with far more justification) ‘l’architecture française’. The bigotry of the
+English Gothic Revival was so intense in the forties that Scott was denounced in <i>The
+Ecclesiologist</i> for even entering a competition for a church in Germany since, if successful,
+his clients would be Lutherans not Anglicans. Such insular narrowness made the
+Catholic Pugin’s Gothic paradoxically intransmissible to Catholic countries abroad,
+quite as intransmissible in effect as the Jacobethan. Scott won his Hamburg competition
+by modulating, to the horror of puristic compatriots, his usual fourteenth-century English
+Decorated towards its German equivalent, on the whole a grander style as he
+exploited it there.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Continental nationalism, like Continental Neo-Catholicism outside France,<a id="r145"></a><a href='#f145' class='c025'><sup>[145]</sup></a> favoured
+earlier—or later—modes than the Gothic, down at least to the mid century. The <i>Rundbogenstil</i>,
+moreover, despite the fact that the precedent for its detail was quite as often
+Italian as local, received warm support from nationalists in Germany; when exported,
+moreover, as to the Scandinavian countries and the United States, it was properly recognized
+as a German product (see Chapters <a href='#ch02'>2</a> and <a href='#ch05'>5</a>). In Latin countries, and particularly in
+Italy, Gothic continued to seem alien; hence there are few examples of revived medieval
+design of any sort there or in Spain and Portugal before 1850. Jappelli’s highly exceptional
+work at Padua, mentioned earlier, is rich and delicate but not in the least plausible
+to Northern eyes in the way of Ehrhardt’s somewhat similar Italian Gothic houses in
+Dresden.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A European consensus of taste had been achieved by the late seventeenth century,
+despite the division of Europe into Catholic and Protestant countries, and this consensus
+was maintained, and even grew in strength, for another hundred years and more. When
+it finally broke down in the second quarter of the nineteenth century, it necessarily broke
+down in different ways and to a different degree in each country. No new cultural synthesis
+was achieved, at least as regards architecture, before our own day. The resultant
+stylistic patchwork that the second half of the nineteenth century inherited was largely
+the product of the increasing nationalism of the two decades that preceded the mid
+century. This particularistic nationalism, rather than the concurrent increase in mere eclecticism
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>of taste—for such eclecticism had existed to a greater or lesser degree since the
+mid eighteenth century—explains the major difference in the architectural climate around
+1850 from that around 1800; at least it is some part of the explanation. To be Roman in
+architecture, to be Greek, even to be Italian, one need not cease to be English or French
+or German. But to be Tudor one must be English, as to be <i>François I</i> one must be French,
+or so it seemed to most architects and their clients in the forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From this pattern of growing nationalistic divergence, this Late Romantic disintegration
+of the cultural unity that had remained strong and vital through the first few
+decades of the century, it is important now to turn to an aspect of architecture that derived
+from a different international absolute, that of science and technology. The English
+led in most technological developments affecting building methods from the mid
+eighteenth century on, both in the introduction of new materials and in the exploitation
+of new types of construction to serve new needs. But they led only because the Industrial
+Revolution, at once the result of certain major technological changes and the cause of
+innumerable others, had its origins and its early flowering in England. Before the first
+half of the nineteenth century was over, other countries to which the Industrial Revolution
+came relatively late were rapidly catching up. After the fifties technological leadership
+in building passed from Britain to the United States and to the Continent. Some
+consideration of the increased use of iron and glass between 1790 and 1855 may well
+conclude the first part of this book.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>
+  <h2 id='ch07' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 7</span><br />BUILDING WITH IRON AND GLASS: 1790-1855</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Architectural</span> history has many aspects. Ideas and theories, points of view and programmes
+can have real importance even when, as with the Picturesque and the earlier
+stages of the Gothic Revival, most of the buildings which derive from them or follow
+their prescriptions are lacking in individual distinction. Volume of production is also
+significant; the disproportion between the previous chapter and the four that precede it
+expresses fairly accurately the difference in the amount of building in the first half of the
+century belonging, at least by a broad definition, to the rubric of Romantic Classicism
+and the very much smaller amount—up to 1840 at least and outside England—that can
+be considered essentially Picturesque or programmatically Neo-Gothic. But the history
+of architecture must include the history of building as a craft or technic; sometimes the
+story of technical development is—or has appeared to posterity to be—more important
+than any other aspect of a particular historical development. Such has been the case until
+quite lately with the rise of the Gothic in the twelfth century in France; it has also
+seemed true in varying degree for the nineteenth century to many historians and critics.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The Industrial Revolution induced a parallel but gradual revolution in building
+methods; even today, after two hundred years, the potentialities of that revolution have
+not been fully actualized. The technical story, particularly as it concerns the structural use
+of ferrous metals, first cast iron,<a id="r146"></a><a href='#f146' class='c025'><sup>[146]</sup></a> next wrought iron, and then steel, begins well before
+1800. There has already been occasion to mention, in passing, technical innovations in
+various edifices where those innovations had a determinant effect on the total architectural
+result. But it is worth while, partly for the intrinsic interest of the subject,
+partly as preparation for subsequent technical developments of great importance later in
+the nineteenth and in the twentieth century, to go back to the beginning and to recount
+sequentially the episodes in the rise of iron as a prime building material, as also to touch
+at least on the concurrent use of other ‘fireproof’ materials and the vastly increased exploitation
+of glass. This sequence of episodes reaches a real culmination in the fifties with
+the construction of a considerable number of ‘Crystal Palaces’, first in London and then
+all over the western world, edifices that were almost entirely of iron and glass.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A marked change in the situation came around 1855. For one thing, it was in that
+year that Sir Henry Bessemer invented a new method of making steel in quantity so
+that it could be profitably used for large building components. However, the full architectural
+possibilities of the use of structural steel were hardly grasped before the nineties.
+There was also in the fifties an increasingly general realization that unprotected iron was
+not as fire-resistant<a id="r147"></a><a href='#f147' class='c025'><sup>[147]</sup></a> as had hitherto been fondly supposed. Then, too—and perhaps
+most significantly—a sharp shift in taste at this time, leading to a predominant preference
+for the massively plastic in architecture, made unfashionable both the delicate membering
+suitable to iron and the smooth transparent surfaces provided by large areas of glass
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch08'>8</a>-<a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>The technical development of the use of ferrous metals in building continued unbroken
+beyond the fifties; indeed, most of the quantitative records of the first half of the
+century, in the way of distances spanned and volumes enclosed, were progressively exceeded
+in the sixties, seventies, and eighties (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). From the point of view of
+architecture, however, the story passes more or less out of sight for a generation. To a
+certain extent metal literally ‘went underground’ as new types of foundations were
+evolved for taller and heavier buildings; but more generally metal structure was masked
+with stone or brick, as was first proposed in the forties in England, to provide protection
+against the adverse effects of extreme heat in urban fires (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). When the
+use of exposed metal and glass became significant again in the nineties that use was to
+be a major constituent of general architectural development as it has
+remained ever since (see Chapters <a href='#ch16'>16</a>, <a href='#ch22'>22</a>, <a href='#ch23'>23</a>, and
+<a href='#ch25'>25</a>). But down to the 1850s the rise of iron and glass is best
+considered as a separate story.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This story is not confined to the most advanced countries. The tall, slim columns used
+by Wren in 1706 to support the galleries in the old House of Commons <i>seem</i> to have
+been of iron<a id="r148"></a><a href='#f148' class='c025'><sup>[148]</sup></a>; but short ones, introduced in 1752, can still be seen in the kitchen
+of the Monastery of Alcobaça in Portugal, and a very early use of iron beams was
+in the Marble Palace at Petersburg built by Antonio Rinaldi (1709-94) in 1768-72.
+The main line of development, however, was undoubtedly English, French, and
+American. Definitely dated 1770-2 were the iron members supporting the galleries
+in St Anne’s, Liverpool.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A much more notable and better publicized use of iron followed shortly after this
+when metal replaced masonry for the entire central structure of the Coalbrookdale
+Bridge in Shropshire. This was begun in 1777 by Thomas Farnolls Pritchard (?-1777)
+with the active co-operation of Abraham Darby III, an important local ironmaster.<a id="r149"></a><a href='#f149' class='c025'><sup>[149]</sup></a>
+Darby’s Coalbrookdale Foundry cast the iron elements that were needed and
+the bridge was completed in 1779. Pritchard was an architect, and architects played a
+more important part in the story of the early development of iron construction than is
+generally realized. Soon, however, the importance of special problems of statics to
+which such construction gave rise and, above all, the need to measure accurately the
+strength of various components required the expert assistance of civil engineers, and
+often the engineers came to build on their own without the collaboration of architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At this point the story crosses the channel to France.<a id="r150"></a><a href='#f150' class='c025'><sup>[150]</sup></a> There Soufflot, the very technically
+minded architect of the Paris Panthéon—one of the edifices with an account of
+which this book began—assisted by his pupil Brébion, provided in 1779-81 an iron roof
+over the stair-hall<a id="r151"></a><a href='#f151' class='c025'><sup>[151]</sup></a> that he built to lead up to the Grande Galerie of the Louvre. In the
+next few years two rather obscure French architects, Ango and Eustache Saint-Fart
+(1746-1822), were occupied, respectively, with the introduction of iron framing and of
+‘flower-pot’ (i.e. hollow-tile) elements supported on timber framework to produce
+more or less fireproof types of floors. Over the years 1786-90 the great French theatre
+architect J.-V. Louis (1731-1800), horrified by the recurrent fires at the Palais Royal,
+combined these two ideas when he designed the roof of the new Théâtre Français in
+Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>Now the main line of advance returns to England. In 1792-4 Soane avoided timber
+altogether in the fireproof vaults of his Consols Office at the Bank of England, using
+nothing but specially made earthenware pots; he also covered the twenty-foot oculus in
+the central vault with a lantern of iron and glass (Plate <a href='#pl003'>3</a>). The architectural qualities of
+this interior have already been stressed. Even more important for later architecture,
+however, although effectively invisible, had been the adoption just before this of French
+principles in a calico mill at Derby and the West Mill at Belper, both begun in 1792. These
+were planned and carried out by the millowner-engineer William Strutt (1756-1830)
+who used specially designed iron stanchions throughout carrying timber beams and,
+in the top storey only, ‘flower-pot’ vaults between the beams such as Saint-Fart had
+first introduced, but flat brick vaults or ‘jack-arches’ elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Other mills soon followed. The first to have iron beams as well as stanchions seems to
+be the Benyons, Marshall &amp; Bage flax spinning mill in St Michael’s Street, Shrewsbury.
+This was built in 1796-7 from the designs of Charles Bage (1752-1822) a friend and
+correspondent of Strutt. The much-publicized Salford Twist Company’s cotton mill at
+Salford of 1799-1801, designed and built by Boulton &amp; Watt of steam-engine fame—they
+knew Bage’s mill since they had installed his steam-engine—was according to
+present evidence the second<a id="r152"></a><a href='#f152' class='c025'><sup>[152]</sup></a> to be erected with a complete internal skeleton of iron.
+By 1800, then, a system of fire-resistant construction using cast-iron stanchions and
+cast-iron beams, carrying what are sometimes called ‘jack-arches’ of brick, had been
+established in the world of English mill-building. By 1850 such construction was in use
+in Britain for almost all high-grade building. The system was significantly modified,
+however, after about 1845 by the substitution of rolled—that is wrought—iron beams,
+as proposed by Sir William Fairbairn (1789-1874),<a id="r153"></a><a href='#f153' class='c025'><sup>[153]</sup></a> since cast-iron ones had proved
+dangerously brittle.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is not necessary here to do more than sketch out the steps by which the new iron
+skeleton structure became generally accepted. In 1802-11 James Wyatt introduced it in
+the Castellated New Palace that he built at Kew for George III, an edifice of which little
+is otherwise known since it was demolished in 1827-8. In line with this curious conjunction
+of technical and stylistic innovation, already noted in Schinkel’s somewhat later
+cast-iron Gothic monument of 1819-20 in Berlin, is Porden’s profuse use of iron for the
+Gothic traceries and balustrades at Eaton Hall<a id="r154"></a><a href='#f154' class='c025'><sup>[154]</sup></a> in Cheshire in 1804-12, as also by
+Hopper in the even more ornate Gothic Conservatory at Carlton House in London in
+1811-12 (Plate <a href='#pl060b'>60<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Isolated columns of iron appeared in many edifices from the 1790s on. The most
+notable extant examples, perhaps, are those in the kitchen and in several of the
+rooms that were added by Nash to the Royal Pavilion at Brighton in
+1818-21 (Plate <a href='#pl058a'>58<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+His ‘Chinese’ staircases of 1815-18 there are entirely of decorative pierced ironwork
+and the framing of his big onion dome is also of metal, although of course invisible.
+From the early use of iron columns for gallery supports in churches, increasingly
+general by the early 1800s, there shortly developed the aspiration to exploit iron still more
+extensively in such edifices. In three churches that Rickman and the ironmaster John
+Cragg built in Liverpool, St George’s, Everton, and St Michael’s, Toxteth Road, both
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>begun in 1813, and St Philip’s, Hardman Street, completed in 1816, the entire internal
+structure is of iron. At St Michael’s the new material is not restricted to the interior
+but appears on the outside as well. Rickman’s increasing archaeological erudition and
+that of his contemporaries soon limited the use of iron in Gothic churches, however;
+by Pugin and the Camdenians it was rigidly proscribed. Structural elements of iron in
+churches of any architectural pretension became acceptable again only in the fifties (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Turning to what long remained the most notable field of metal construction, bridge
+building,<a id="r155"></a><a href='#f155' class='c025'><sup>[155]</sup></a> one finds a rapid increase in the numbers and the spans of English metal
+bridges from the mid 1790s on. In Shropshire, where the first iron bridge and the
+first all-iron-framed  factory had been built, one of the greatest English engineers,
+Thomas Telford (1757-1834),<a id="r156"></a><a href='#f156' class='c025'><sup>[156]</sup></a> built the Buildwas Bridge with a span of 130 feet in 1795-6. At the
+same time the much longer and handsomer metal arch of the Sunderland Bridge in
+County Durham was rising to the designs of Rowland Burdon. He was assisted, it
+appears, by certain ideas supplied by Thomas Paine (1737-1809), better known for his
+political writings than as a technician, who had had some association with bridge-building
+in America. Burdon was a Member of Parliament and neither an architect nor
+an engineer. Telford, however, though not professionally trained as an architect, had
+worked for Sir William Chambers as a journeyman-mason on Somerset House in his
+youth; throughout his career he built masonry toll-houses and even, on occasion, modest
+churches in a competent if rudimentary Romantic Classical vein.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In connexion with his work on the Bridgewater Canal and on the road system of the
+Scottish Highlands, Telford designed and built innumerable bridges, the majority of
+them of stone. But some of his later iron bridges, more skilfully devised technically and
+more graceful visually than the Buildwas Bridge, deserve mention here. On the Waterloo
+Bridge of 1815 at Bettws-y-Coed in Wales he used an openwork inscriptional band
+and floral badges rather than architectural detail to give elegance and even richness to a
+modest cast-iron arch. A longer and simpler bridge of similar design but unknown
+authorship built in 1816 still spans the Liffey in Dublin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The same year as the Waterloo Bridge, at Craigellachie, amid austere Scottish mountains,
+Telford bridged the Spey with a plain latticed iron arch. But it is worth noting
+that he elaborated the masonry abutments as battlemented towers in a wholly Picturesque
+way (Plate <a href='#pl059'>59</a>). For the Menai Bridge, built in 1819-24 between North Wales
+and Anglesey, Telford used a new principle in metal construction, suspending his roadbed
+from metal chains (Plate <a href='#pl058b'>58<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This was a principle of great antiquity already exploited
+with success in America.<a id="r157"></a><a href='#f157' class='c025'><sup>[157]</sup></a> Telford’s masonry towers at the Menai Bridge are
+of extremely elegant Romantic Classical design, tapered like Egyptian pylons and pierced
+with delicate arches. In the twin bridge to this at Conway, also in North Wales, the close
+proximity of the Edwardian castle led him to provide Castellated towers. In a still later
+arched bridge at Tewkesbury of 1826 the latticed metalwork itself has the cuspings of
+Gothic tracery.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Menai Bridge remains the longest of its type in the British Isles. I. K. Brunel’s
+Clifton Suspension Bridge near Bristol, for which he won the competition in 1829, but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>which was begun only in 1837, has already been mentioned because of the Egyptian
+detailing proposed for the piers. This bridge was finally completed only in 1864 by
+W. H. Barlow (1812-92) using the materials of Brunel’s earlier Hungerford Suspension
+Bridge in London. Of early arched metal bridges there are very many and by all the
+leading English engineers of the first half of the century: John Rennie (1761-1821), I. K.
+Brunel (1806-59), George Stephenson (1781-1848) and his son Robert (1803-59), as
+well as Telford. The new railways, from the early thirties on, required even more
+bridges than the canals constructed by the previous generation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In France Napoleon’s engineers built two arched iron bridges across the Seine. L.-A.
+de Cessart (1719-1806) designed before 1800 and Delon in 1801-3 executed the Pont
+des Arts, the first French bridge of iron, and Lamandé completed the Pont du Jardin du
+Roi in 1806.<a id="r158"></a><a href='#f158' class='c025'><sup>[158]</sup></a> Neither is comparable in span or in logic of design to the earlier English
+examples, thus reversing the pre-eminence which the French had held as bridge-builders
+so long as masonry was used. The much later Pont du Carrousel in Paris, built by A.-R.
+Polonceau (1788-1847) in 1834-6, was considerably superior to these Napoleonic
+examples, though hardly epoch-making. But already in 1824, just as Telford’s Menai
+Bridge was completed, Marc Séguin (1786-1875) was spanning the Rhône near Tournon
+with a suspension bridge hung on wire ropes<a id="r159"></a><a href='#f159' class='c025'><sup>[159]</sup></a> instead of chains.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From the early forties Séguin’s cable principle was developed much further in
+America in bridges at Wheeling, W. Va., Pittsburgh, Penna., and Cincinnati, Ohio, by
+the German immigrant John A. Roebling (1806-69). Those at Wheeling<a id="r160"></a><a href='#f160' class='c025'><sup>[160]</sup></a> and Cincinnati
+are still in use. The more dramatically sited Niagara Falls Bridge of 1852, which
+attracted world-wide attention when it was new, is no longer extant (Plate <a href='#pl060a'>60<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); its
+success, however, led to Roebling’s being commissioned to build the famous Brooklyn
+Bridge<a id="r161"></a><a href='#f161' class='c025'><sup>[161]</sup></a> in New York. Begun by him in 1869 and completed by his son Washington A.
+Roebling (1837-1926) in 1883, this is still one of the principal sights of New York. It is
+sad to record that work in the caissons sunk for the foundations of the piers killed the
+designer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bridges are at the edge of the realm of architecture. Fairly early, moreover, they came
+almost entirely under the control of men without architectural training or standards—Roebling,
+for example, was such a one. Ordinary buildings, all of iron or with much use
+of iron, are more significant as the century proceeds, both in France and in England.
+Hopper’s Carlton House Conservatory (Plate <a href='#pl060b'>60<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) has been mentioned. In 1809 the
+architect F.-J. Belanger (1744-1818), a pupil of Brongniart, replaced the domed wooden
+roof of the Halle au Blé in Paris, added in 1782 by J.-G. Legrand (1743-1807) and J.
+Molinos (1743-1831), with one of metal. The Marché de la Madeleine, designed by
+M.-G. Veugny (1785-1850) possibly as early as 1824 but not built until 1835-8, was
+apparently all of metal internally; its masonry exterior, however, was quite conventional.
+Already in 1835, in the fish pavilion which formed part of his rather Durandesque
+Hungerford Market in London, Charles Fowler had outstripped this in the direct
+and elegant use of light metal components, here with no surrounding shell of masonry
+at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Some further Continental examples of the use of iron in the late twenties and thirties
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>deserve mention at this point. Alavoine—at whose suggestion Duc’s Bastille Column,
+begun in 1831, was made of metal, though the metal is bronze not iron—designed in
+1823 a flèche 432 feet tall to rise over the crossing of Rouen Cathedral in the form of an
+openwork cage of iron. Begun in 1827 and interrupted in 1848, this was finally completed
+by the younger Barthélémy (Eugène, 1841-98) and L.-F. Desmarest (1814-?) in
+1877. In 1829-31 Fontaine roofed the Galeried’Orléans, which he built across the
+garden of the Palais Royal, with iron and glass. This structure, now destroyed, was more
+prominent and also much wider than most of the many <i>passages</i> and <i>galeries</i><a id="r162"></a><a href='#f162' class='c025'><sup>[162]</sup></a> with glass
+roofs that had been built in Paris and elsewhere in France from the 1770s on. The most
+impressive extant French example is the Passage Pommeraye in Nantes, built by Durand-Gasselin
+and J.-B. Buron (?-1881) in 1843; in this the circulation moves upwards
+from one end to the other through three storey-levels. A modest Milanese example of
+1831, the Galleria de Cristoforis by Andrea Pizzala (?-1862), might be mentioned
+here also, as it was the local prototype for the greatest of all these characteristic nineteenth-century
+urban features, Mengoni’s Galleria Vittorio Emanuele begun in the sixties
+(Plate <a href='#pl075b'>75<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Of the many early nineteenth-century ones that remain in other European
+cities, the Galerie Saint-Hubert in Brussels, built by J.-P. Cluysenaer (1811-80), a
+pupil of Suys, in 1847, is one of the largest and best maintained. Warren’s Providence
+Arcade in Providence, R.I., has been mentioned earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Related to the <i>galeries</i>, and sometimes also so-called, were the large Parisian enterprises
+of this period that were really early department stores. The Bazar de l’Industrie,
+built by Paul Lelong (1799-1846) in 1830, had a large glass-roofed and iron-galleried
+court of the sort that was to be continued in Parisian department stores down into the
+present century (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). Even larger and bolder were the similar courts in the
+department store known as the Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie, built by Grisart
+and Froehlicher in the Boulevard Bonne-Nouvelle in 1838, which has already been mentioned
+for its richly arcaded Renaissance façades (Plate <a href='#pl062a'>62<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Shop-fronts of iron were
+also frequent in Paris<a id="r163"></a><a href='#f163' class='c025'><sup>[163]</sup></a> by this time. Thus in France, as in England and America, the use
+of iron was closely associated with structures for business use, but more usually with
+sales emporia than with office buildings (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Such, however, were not unknown
+in England and America, though they were generally less extensive and made
+less use of glass-roofed courts.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Glass held in wooden frames had for some time been extensively employed for greenhouses.
+How early iron began to be substituted for wood is not clear, and not perhaps of
+much consequence.<a id="r164"></a><a href='#f164' class='c025'><sup>[164]</sup></a> Hopper’s ornately Gothic Conservatory of iron and glass at Carlton
+House in London, demolished in the twenties, has been mentioned several times
+already (Plate <a href='#pl060b'>60<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In 1833, at the Jardin des Plantes in Paris, Charles Rohault de
+Fleury (1801-75) built a very large and handsome iron greenhouse without any
+stylistic decoration. The structure of the square pavilions was as transparent and rectilinear
+as the interior framework of Veugny’s slightly later market seems to have been,
+and the ranges between were covered, just as so many wooden greenhouses had been,
+with transparent roofs rising in two quadrants. At Chatsworth in Derbyshire the Great
+Conservatory was built in 1836-40 by the 6th Duke of Devonshire’s gardener, Sir Joseph
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>Paxton (1803-65), possibly with some minor assistance from Decimus Burton. This
+quite outclassed the largest earlier greenhouse, the Anthaeum at Brighton, designed in
+1825 and built in 1832-3 for the horticulturist Henry Phillips, with a dome of iron and
+glass 160 feet in diameter which collapsed before it was quite completed. The Chatsworth
+conservatory was a still larger rectangle, 227 feet by 123 feet, with the exterior
+rising in a double cusp like the side ranges of Rohault’s Paris greenhouse—or, for that
+matter, like the section of the Anthaeum. The columns and beams here were of iron, but
+the great arched principals of the ‘nave’ and the ‘aisles’ were of laminated wood and
+four-foot long panes of glass were held in wooden sashes arranged in a ridge-and-furrow
+pattern. A particular invention of Paxton’s, whose name was given to such roofs, was
+the hollowing out of the wooden members at the base of the furrows to serve as gutters.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Decimus Burton’s still extant Palm Stove at Kew, carried out by the contracting
+engineer Richard Turner of Dublin in 1845-7, with rounded ends and a higher central
+area, is more bubble-like than Paxton’s because of the absence of ridges and furrows on
+its continuously glazed surface (Plate <a href='#pl067a'>67<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But both these great greenhouses were
+among the most striking monuments of their Early Victorian day and were never exceeded
+later in elegance though often in size. French rivals, long since destroyed, were
+the Jardins d’Hiver in Lyons and Paris of 1841 and 1847 by Hector Horeau (1801-72),
+the latter a rectangle 300 by 180 feet and 60 feet tall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the thirties begins the story of a new building type, the railway station,<a id="r165"></a><a href='#f165' class='c025'><sup>[165]</sup></a> in
+whose sheds the mid century was to realize some of the largest and finest examples ever
+of ‘ferrovitreous’, or iron-and-glass, construction. The structures utilizing iron thus far
+mentioned have been of two sorts, some, such as bridges, markets, greenhouses, etc.,
+with only subsidiary masonry elements, if any at all; others, examples of mixed construction
+with metal providing only the internal skeleton or the roof. Railway stations
+were generally—and before the fifties always—examples of mixed construction, but of a
+rather special sort. The iron and glass portions, that is the sheds, and the masonry portions
+are likely to be merely juxtaposed, not truly integrated. Such a masonry frontispiece
+as Hardwick’s Euston Arch in London of 1835-7 had no connexion at all with the
+functional elements of the station behind—here by Robert Stephenson—although
+Euston was an extreme case. But a happy co-ordination of the masonry and the iron-and-glass
+portions of stations was rarely achieved anywhere.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of the earliest railway station, that at Crown Street in Liverpool of 1830, nothing remains;
+it was in any case a very modest structure.<a id="r166"></a><a href='#f166' class='c025'><sup>[166]</sup></a> Of its successors at Lime Street the
+present station is the fourth on the site. Even the ‘Arch’ at Euston, the next major station
+to be built, is now gone, despite the strenuous efforts of the Victorian Society and others
+in Britain and overseas to save this symbolic portal to the Victorian Age. However, the
+first station at Temple Meads in Bristol, which was built by Brunel in 1839-40, is physically
+intact, though supplanted in present-day use by a larger and later one. Castellated
+as regards the masonry block in front, the shed here is equally medievalizing; for its roof
+is of timber, not of iron, and based on the fourteenth-century hammerbeam roof of
+Westminster Hall in London, whose width it exceeds by a few feet only.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of the once far finer Trijunct station at Derby, built in 1839-41, the last portions of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>Francis Thompson’s brick screen have finally been destroyed; the three original sheds provided
+by Robert Stephenson, with Thompson’s collaboration on the detailing, were
+each 56 feet wide in comparison to the 40-foot width of Stephenson’s earlier ones at
+Euston (Plate <a href='#pl062b'>62<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The tie-beam roof had much of the graceful directness and linear
+elegance of Rohault’s greenhouse or Veugny’s market.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>More and more, the use of iron was being generally accepted as a technical necessity
+in the forties. At Buckingham Palace Blore, in adapting one of Nash’s side pavilions as a
+chapel for Queen Victoria in 1842-3, used visible iron supports just as Nash had done so
+long before in the interiors of the Brighton Pavilion for her uncle. Yet generally the use
+of iron in important masonry structures in the thirties and the early forties was quite
+invisible, being confined to the floors and the substructure of the roofs. In 1837-9 C.-J.
+Baron (1783-1855) and Nicolas Martin (1809-?), for example, provided a complete
+iron roof above the vaults of Chartres Cathedral, a work of very considerable scale and
+technical elaboration that provided the immediate prototype for the iron roof of Gau’s
+Sainte-Clotilde in Paris, designed in 1840 and begun in 1846. At the Houses of Parliament,
+the actual construction of which started only in 1840, Barry capped the whole
+with iron roofs—the external iron plates are actually visible, of course, but the fact of
+their being of iron is rarely recognized. Fireproof floors built according to various
+French and English patent systems were increasingly thought necessary in all high-grade
+construction. Queen Victoria’s Osborne House on the Isle of Wight, constructed without
+the aid of an architect by the builder Thomas Cubitt, had them throughout, as did
+many other well-built country houses of the forties, at least in the passages and stair-halls.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here and there in the commercial buildings of this decade the iron skeleton used
+inside came through to the exterior, as it had on one of Rickman’s Liverpool churches a
+generation earlier. A small office building at No. 50 Watling Street in London, with
+visible iron supports and lintels in the upper storeys but with brick corner piers and
+brick spandrels, was a case in point, probably dating from early in the decade. By 1844
+Fairbairn was recommending in a report that fireproof construction should be used in
+all warehouses. Increasingly this was done in Lancashire and, before long, elsewhere;
+Fairbairn himself had introduced it ten years earlier in the Jevons Warehouse on the
+New Quay in Manchester.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Closely associated with the development of iron construction is the development of
+prefabrication; indeed, the parts of an elaborate iron edifice, such as a bridge or a greenhouse,
+are necessarily prefabricated and merely assembled at the site. From the early
+forties, and perhaps even before that, lighthouses were frequently erected in ironmasters’
+yards in Britain, disassembled, shipped to Bermuda or the Barbadoes, and then reassembled.
+In 1843 John Walker of London provided a prefabricated palace for an
+African king and, by the end of the decade, prefabricated warehouses and dwellings of
+iron were being supplied to gold-diggers in California and emigrants to Australia in
+very considerable quantity. A look at the prefabricated houses of the 1940s will perhaps
+explain why almost none of these ancestors of a century earlier seems to have survived,
+at least in recognizable form. None the less, the advance of prefabrication remains a
+notable technical—though hardly architectural—achievement of the 1840s and 1850s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>To the mid and late forties belong several splendid examples of mixed construction in
+various countries that not only represent technical feats of a high order but are also fully
+architectural in character. Some are by architects, others by teams of architects and engineers
+working in close collaboration. In building the Britannia Bridge,<a id="r167"></a><a href='#f167' class='c025'><sup>[167]</sup></a> which crosses
+the Menai Strait near Telford’s Menai Bridge, the Derby Trijunct team of Stephenson
+and Thompson in 1845-50 utilized with great success the rectangular tubes built up of
+wrought-iron plates that Fairbairn, the consulting engineer, recommended (Plate <a href='#pl061'>61</a>).
+The Holyhead railway line still passes through these tubes. The masonry entrances and
+the tall towers, taller than they need have been because of Stephenson’s original intention
+to use suspensory members for additional support to his rigid tubes, were superbly
+detailed by Thompson. Contemporaries called them Egyptian, but the design has already
+been noted as fully consonant with Romantic Classicism though quite devoid of
+Grecian elements. At least the sculptor John Thomas’s pairs of gigantic lions at the
+entrances are Nubian!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the London Coal Exchange<a id="r168"></a><a href='#f168' class='c025'><sup>[168]</sup></a> built in 1846-9 in Lower Thames Street, the City
+Corporation’s architect Bunning arrived at no such complete co-ordination of masonry
+and metallic design as did Stephenson and Thompson on the Britannia Bridge. The
+masonry exterior consists of two <i>palazzo</i> blocks set at a fairly sharp angle to one another
+and loosely linked by a very Picturesque round tower, free-standing in its upper stages.
+Behind all this the dome of the interior court can barely be glimpsed. Inside this court,
+however, no masonry at all is visible; one sees only an elegant cage of iron elements
+rising to the glazed hemisphere above (Plate <a href='#pl063'>63</a>). The metal members are richly but
+appropriately detailed, and there is even more appropriate decorative painting by Sang
+in such panels as are not glazed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In France two monuments of comparable distinction have already been mentioned,
+Henri Labrouste’s Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève of 1843-50 and Duquesney’s Gare de
+l’Est of 1847-52 (Plate <a href='#pl022b'>22<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Unfortunately the original shed of the latter, with arched
+principals of 100-foot span, was taken down when the station was doubled in size in the
+present century. Inside the library a central row of iron columns of somewhat Pompeian
+design—that is, resembling the slender, metallically scaled members seen in Pompeian
+wall paintings—still carries the two barrel roofs on delicately scrolled arches of openwork
+iron (Figure <a href='#i125'>14</a>). Since the masonry walls with their ranges of window arches are
+visible all round, the effect produced is less novel than in the iron-and-glass court of
+the Coal Exchange; but Labrouste achieved much greater integration between interior
+and exterior (Plate <a href='#pl021'>21</a>). The Dianabad in Vienna, built by Karl Etzel in 1841-3, had a fine
+iron roof; the circular bracing of the iron principals, a frequent motif in large openwork
+members of cast iron at this time, was most appropriate to the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>
+detailing of the masonry walls (Plate <a href='#pl066b'>66<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Monferran’s cast-iron dome on St Isaac’s in Petersburg, completed about 1842, has
+already been mentioned (Plate <a href='#pl027a'>27<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This was rivalled before very long by several
+American examples,<a id="r169"></a><a href='#f169' class='c025'><sup>[169]</sup></a> most notably Walter’s enormous dome, built in 1855-65, above
+the Capitol in Washington (Plate <a href='#pl082a'>82<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Baroque in silhouette and rather Baroque in detail
+also, this may have encouraged—along with the rising taste for elaborately plastic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>effects of which it was itself a notable expression—the increasingly common practice of
+casting the exposed iron elements of American commercial façades in the form of rich
+Corinthian columns and heavily moulded arches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Around 1850 cast-iron architecture was coming to its climax everywhere. James
+Bogardus (1800-74), a manufacturer of iron grinding machinery, not an architect or
+engineer, began to erect in Center Street in New York in 1848 a four-storeyed urban
+structure for his own use as a factory with an exterior consisting only of cast-iron piers
+and lintels. This was one of the earliest<a id="r170"></a><a href='#f170' class='c025'><sup>[170]</sup></a> and most highly publicized of the cast-iron
+fronts which Bogardus and various other ironmasters in New York and elsewhere made
+ubiquitous in the principal American cities before and after the Civil War. But his
+earliest completed iron front was that of the five-storey chemist shop of John Milhau at
+183 Broadway erected within the year 1848. An extant work by Bogardus, the range of
+four-storey stores built for Edward H. Laing at the north-west corner of Washington
+and Murray Streets in New York, was begun in 1849 and finished within two months,
+well before his own building was completed. These early cast-iron fronts are very
+logical and expressive in the way the attenuated Grecian Doric columns and flat
+entablatures are used to form an external frame; but the Laing stores have lost most of
+the applied ornament that appealed so much to mid-century taste (Plate <a href='#pl067b'>67<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Later
+façades are richer and heavier, generally with Renaissance or Baroque arcading, as has
+just been noted. For the Harper’s Building in New York built in 1854, which incorporated
+the first American rolled-iron beams, the architect John B. Corlies provided a design
+of ornate Late Renaissance character. Curiously enough, in executing this building
+Bogardus used for the upper four storeys the same castings as in the Sun Building that he
+had erected in 1850-1 in Baltimore to the designs of R. G. Hatfield (1815-79). To the
+typical cast-iron fronts of New York,<a id="r171"></a><a href='#f171' class='c025'><sup>[171]</sup></a> of which the most extensive and one of the simplest
+was that of the old Stewart Department Store on Broadway begun in 1859 by
+John W. Kellum (1807-71), vacated several years ago by Wanamakers and burned
+during demolition in 1956, one may well prefer the delicacy of a Glasgow example, the
+Jamaica Street Warehouse<a id="r172"></a><a href='#f172' class='c025'><sup>[172]</sup></a> of 1855-6, or a remote Far Western department store like
+the Z.C.M.I. of 1868 in Salt Lake City, rivalling amid the Rocky Mountains those of
+Paris. Neither of these is the work of architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Great Britain and Europe saw few all-iron façades. This was in large part because the
+danger of their collapse when exposed to the extreme heat of urban conflagrations, a
+danger made real to Americans only by the fires of the seventies in Boston and Chicago,
+was appreciated very early. Yet it was not in America but in Britain that the greatest
+masterpieces of iron construction of the fifties were built. The succeeding turn of the
+tide against the visible use of iron also had its origins in Britain, not in America where
+the material had early become so tediously ubiquitous.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1850 Paxton was completing at Chatsworth a relatively small new greenhouse to
+protect the <i>Victoria regia</i>, a giant water-lily imported from Africa by the Duke of
+Devonshire. With its arcaded walls of iron and glass and its flat ridge-and-furrow roof,
+this seemed to Paxton to provide a suitable paradigm for the vast structure<a id="r173"></a><a href='#f173' class='c025'><sup>[173]</sup></a> needed by
+May 1851 to house the Great Exhibition, the first international exposition, which was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>scheduled to open at that time. The Commissioners of the Exhibition had held an international
+competition that produced several extremely interesting ferrovitreous projects,
+notably an Irish one by Turner, Burton’s collaborator at Kew, and a French one by
+Hector Horeau. Rightly or wrongly, all of them were rejected, and the Commissioners’
+own Building Committee, including the chief architectural and engineering
+talents of the age, then produced a project of their own. Reputedly in large part the
+work of the engineer Brunel and the architect T. L. Donaldson (1795-1885), this manifestly
+impractical scheme, a sort of <i>Rundbogenstil</i> super-railway-station intended to be
+built of brick—the project actually provided the inspiration for Herholdt’s Central
+Station in Copenhagen of 1863-4, or so it would appear—was already out for bids
+when Paxton presented in July 1850 his own scheme based on the Chatsworth Lily
+House. Published in the <i>Illustrated London News</i> and offered with a low alternative bid
+by the contractors Fox &amp; Henderson, this was accepted and—with much significant
+modification—erected in the incredibly short space of nine months.</p>
+
+<div id='i125'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i125.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 14. H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève,<br />(1839), 1843-50, section</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Inside this vast structure, with its tall central nave, galleried aisles, and arched transept,
+Paxton and his engineer associates, Sir Charles Fox (1810-74) and his partner Henderson
+(to the two of whom a considerable part of the credit must go), created unwittingly
+a new sort of architectural space. So large as in effect to be boundless, this space
+was defined only by the three-dimensional grid of co-ordinates which the regularly
+spaced iron stanchions and girders provided (Plate <a href='#pl064'>64</a>). These elements, designed for
+mass-production, and also in such a way that they could be disassembled as readily as
+they were assembled, had a new sort of mechanical elegance towards which the design
+of metal components had hitherto been moving only very gradually. The character of
+the casting process made it only too easy to impose on cast-iron elements all sorts of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>more or less inappropriate decorative treatments from Gothic to Baroque; only rarely
+had stylistic detail been successfully reinterpreted, as by Bunning in the Coal Exchange,
+in terms of the fat arrises and broad radii that are suitable to the material and to the particular
+method of its production. Even at the Crystal Palace a few touches of ornament
+provided by Owen Jones (1806-89), who was also responsible for the highly original
+and rather Turneresque colour treatment, suggest the gap—and, alas, it was in the 1850s
+a widening gap—between the technicians’ and the architects’ ambitions for iron.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Contemporaries had no words for what the Crystal Palace offered. Even today, when
+the aesthetic possibilities of the new sort of space it contained as well as the technical advantages
+of its method of assembly from mass-produced elements have been more generally
+explored, it is not easy to describe Paxton’s and Fox &amp; Henderson’s achievement
+despite the remarkably complete documentation that exists. The space inside the
+tall transept (an afterthought designed to allow the saving of a great elm), arched on
+laminated wooden principals, was more readily appreciated in its day than that in the
+long nave, because it was more familiar. It is not surprising, therefore, that when the
+Crystal Palace was disassembled and rebuilt in 1852-4 at Sydenham, where it lasted
+down to its destruction—ironically by fire—in 1936, the entire nave was arched although
+with principals of openwork metal rather than of laminated wood.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Crystal Palace’s structural vocabulary—though not, alas, the quality of its space—can
+be appreciated in the Midland Station at Oxford, built by Fox &amp; Henderson with
+identical elements in 1852. There one can still see how the new methods enforced a
+modular regularity more rigid than that of Romantic Classicism and also encouraged a
+tenuity of material quite unknown to the Neo-Gothic as executed in masonry. Thus the
+visual result ran doubly counter to the rising fashions in architecture in the fifties
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch09'>9</a> and <a href='#ch10'>10</a>). Within five years of the moment when the Crystal Palace was
+greeted with such general—though never universal—acclaim the climactic moment of
+the early Iron Age was already over. In those few years, however, Crystal Palaces rose
+in many other major cities. The finest was perhaps that built in Dublin in 1852-4 by Sir
+John Benson (1812-74) with its bubble-like rounded ends; the least successful that in
+New York<a id="r174"></a><a href='#f174' class='c025'><sup>[174]</sup></a> of 1853 by G. J. B. Carstensen (1812-57), the founder of the Tivoli in
+Copenhagen, and Charles Gildemeister (1820-69). The prompt destruction of this
+last by fire was a fearful early warning of the limitations of iron construction unsheathed
+by masonry. The burning of Voit’s Glaspalast of 1854 in Munich, like that of
+the Sydenham Palace, occurred in our own day, as also the similar end of the Paleis
+voor Volksvlijt in Amsterdam, which was built by Cornelis Outshoorn (1810-75)
+in 1856.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The prestige of iron construction was never higher than in the early fifties. For Balmoral
+Castle, not yet rebuilt in its final form, the Prince Consort ordered in 1851 a prefabricated
+iron ballroom by E. T. Bellhouse of Manchester modelled on the houses for
+emigrants to Australia by Bellhouse that the Prince had seen at the Great Exhibition. In
+the Record Office in London, begun by Pennethorne in this same year, even more iron
+was used for the internal grid of separate storerooms and for the window-sash than in
+the great mill that Lockwood &amp; Mawson built for Sir Titus Salt at Saltaire in Yorkshire
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>in 1854. The internal structure of this last represented another major contribution by
+Fairbairn. Characteristically, however, the detailing of the external masonry of the Record
+Office is more or less Tudor, if rather crude and over-scaled, while that of the
+Saltaire mill is picturesquely Italianate.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In two new London railway stations, both happily extant, these years produced the
+chief rivals to the Crystal Palace. At King’s Cross, planned by the architect Lewis Cubitt
+in 1850 and built in 1851-2, the two great arched sheds somewhat resembled technically
+the transept of the original Crystal Palace, their principals having been of laminated
+wood. These had eventually to be replaced in 1869-70 with the present steel principals
+which are, however, still held by Cubitt’s original cast-iron shoes. The masonry block
+of the station on the left, or departure, side is undistinguished but fairly inconspicuous.
+The great glory of the station is the front, with its two enormous stock-brick arches that
+close the ends of the sheds towards the Euston Road (Plate <a href='#pl066a'>66<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The idea had been
+Duquesney’s at the Gare de l’Est, but here there is no irrelevant Renaissance detail, only
+grand scale and clear expression of the arched spaces behind.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Paddington Station, built in 1852-4, has no such grand exterior, being masked at the
+southern end by the Hardwicks’ Great Western Hotel. The engineer Brunel here called
+in the architect M. D. Wyatt (1820-77) as collaborator, and for the metal members
+of the shed Wyatt devised ornamentation which—as Brunel specifically requested—is
+both novel and suited to the materials (Plate <a href='#pl065'>65</a>). There is a slightly Saracenic
+flavour both to the stalagmitic modelling of the great stanchions and to the wrought
+elements of tracery that fill the lunettes at the ends and even run along the sides of
+the great elliptically-arched principals. But the detailing of these, if unnecessarily
+elaborate, is certainly quite original and not inappropriate to the materials or to the
+complex spatial effects of the three great parallel sheds crossed by two equally tall
+transepts. The cool spirit of Cubitt’s station recalls that of earlier Romantic Classicism;
+the richer forms of Paddington are related to the rising ‘High’ styles of the third quarter
+of the century, of whose initiation the Great Western Hotel was one of the earliest indications
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By 1853 the craze for iron construction was so great that the Ecclesiological Society,
+forgetting their Puginian principles—Pugin had died the previous year, but not before
+issuing a severe critique of the metal-and-glass construction of the Crystal Palace—commissioned
+their favourite and most ‘correct’ architect, Carpenter, to design for them an
+iron church. It was not Carpenter’s death two years later but the refusal of the English
+bishops to consecrate prefabricated structures for permanent use that brought to nothing
+this interesting project along the lines of Rickman’s and Cragg’s Liverpool churches of
+forty years earlier. The general flood of prefabrication, now producing all sorts of structures
+for the Antipodes and other remote areas that still lacked their own building industries,
+slowed down in 1854, when the demands of the War Office for barracks (on
+account of the Crimean War) deflected prefabricators from civil production.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In that year, however, Sydney Smirke began one of the last major monuments of cast
+iron in England, the domed Reading Room in the court of his brother’s British Museum.
+Awkward in proportion and encased in stacks, this is not to be compared in distinction
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>of design with the Reading Room that Henri Labrouste added to the Bibliothèque
+Nationale in Paris in 1862-8<a id="r175"></a><a href='#f175' class='c025'><sup>[175]</sup></a> (Plate <a href='#pl069'>69</a>). That superb interior, with its many light
+domes of terracotta carried on the slenderest of metal columns and arches, is a great advance
+over his earlier Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève (Figure <a href='#i125'>14</a>). The Reading Room
+in Paris has no proper exterior, however, any more than does that in London, for it is
+incorporated in a group of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century structures that Labrouste
+adapted and enlarged (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>). Even more striking are Labrouste’s stacks, visible
+from the Reading Room through a great glass wall, for in them the entire spatial
+volume is articulated by vertical and horizontal metal elements in a fashion somewhat
+like the interior of the Crystal Palace. But in the sixties such things were exceptional.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1853-8 L.-P. Baltard’s son Victor (1805-74) built the Central Markets<a id="r176"></a><a href='#f176' class='c025'><sup>[176]</sup></a> of Paris
+with the assistance of F.-E. Callet (1791-1854) in a mode much less elegant but still
+franker, exposing his metal structure outside as well as in, at Napoleon III’s personal
+insistence. Saint-Eugène, an almost completely iron-built church of Gothic design, was
+erected in Paris in 1854-5 by L.-A. Boileau (1812-96).<a id="r177"></a><a href='#f177' class='c025'><sup>[177]</sup></a> Boileau’s Saint-Paul at Montluçon,
+Allier, completed in 1863, is a second French example of a cast-iron church, and
+he made designs for several others. His Notre-Dame-de-France off Leicester Square in
+London, a modest church of 1868, has been completely rebuilt since the last war.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, to house the first Paris international exhibition, that of 1855, F.-A. Cendrier
+(1803-92) and J.-M.-V. Viel (1796-1863), both pupils of Vaudoyer and Lebas, provided
+in 1853-4 not another Crystal Palace, such as Dublin, New York, Copenhagen, Munich,
+Amsterdam, and Breslau, among other cities, had built or were building, but an example
+of mixed construction. The great iron-and-glass arched interiors were all but completely
+masked externally by a very conventional masonry shell. It was not until the Paris Exposition
+of 1878 that iron and glass were frankly exposed and decoratively treated on the
+exterior of such a structure in France (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). The curve of enthusiasm for iron
+was evidently taking a downward dip; in Britain the Age of Cast Iron came to an end
+even more suddenly and much more dramatically than in France.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1855 Sir Henry Cole, the prime mover of the Great Exhibition of 1851, had to
+provide on the estate at Brompton, in the part of London now called South Kensington
+that the Commissioners had just acquired from the proceeds of the Exhibition, temporary
+housing for the collections that were being formed by the Government’s Department
+of Practical Art. Having to build in great haste and in war-time, it is perhaps not
+surprising that Cole employed, properly speaking, neither an architect nor an engineer,
+but allowed the Edinburgh contracting firm of C. D. Young &amp; Son to design as well
+as erect the structure subject to some nominal control from the engineer Sir William
+Cubitt (1785-1861). It was certainly a surprising product of a Government agency devoted
+to raising the standard of ‘art-manufactures’! Although we can today appreciate
+some of the practical virtues of this edifice as a Museum of Science and Art, it must be
+admitted that it was inferior even to the general contemporary run of prefabricated
+structures to which it belongs technically. Derisively christened the ‘Brompton Boilers’
+by George Godwin (1815-88), editor of the <i>Builder</i>, it roused a chorus of disapproval as
+loud if not as widespread as the Crystal Palace had done of approval five years before.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>After this time British and Continental interest in iron construction waned rapidly;
+for fifteen years or so exposed iron was chiefly exploited in the commercial façades of the
+United States, themselves now more and more masonry-like in scale and in detailing, as
+has been noted. Structural steel began to be used here and there from the early sixties,
+but the serious beginnings of the Age of Steel lay a quarter of a century ahead
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At least in England, its principal home, the Age of Cast Iron, so
+paradoxically interrelated with the Gothic Revival in its very early
+stages, came to an end in considerable part because of the triumph of
+the Gothic Revival around 1850 (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>). For several
+decades the characteristic new architectural developments were
+stylistic rather than technical. Yet it was the later theories—not the
+practice—of a French medievalist, Viollet-le-Duc, which played a great
+part in the renewed interest in the frank use of metal on the
+Continent in the eighties and nineties (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>).</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+    <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span><span class='c002'>PART TWO</span></div>
+    <div class='c000'><span class='c002'>185O-19OO</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <h2 id='ch08' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 8</span><br />SECOND EMPIRE PARIS, UNITED ITALY,<br />AND IMPERIAL-AND-ROYAL VIENNA</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Many</span> historians, in despair, have merely labelled the period
+after 1850 ‘Eclectic’ as if earlier periods of architecture—and
+notably all the preceding hundred years since 1750—had not also been
+eclectic, although admittedly to a lesser degree. Within the
+eclecticism of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries
+there can readily be distinguished the two major stylistic divisions
+with which Part I has dealt separately (in Chapters <a href='#ch01'>1</a>-<a href='#ch05'>5</a> and in Chapter
+<a href='#ch06'>6</a>, respectively). So also in the fifties, sixties, and seventies two
+principal camps are discernible among the architects. Their programmes
+were less clear than in the previous half century, and in one case
+much less widely accepted internationally. Yet the High Victorian
+Gothic of England, taken together with the later Neo-Gothic elsewhere,
+on the one hand, and what may be loosely called the international
+Second Empire mode on the other, subsume between them a fair part of
+the more conspicuous architectural production of the third quarter of
+the century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both the Victorian Gothic of this period and the
+Second Empire mode were ‘high’ phases of style. Perhaps for that
+reason neither of them controlled, in the way that Romantic Classicism
+had done in the earlier decades of the century, all or even any very
+extensive segments of building activity; yet between them they gave
+colour to a very considerable proportion of it. The obvious stigmata
+of one or of the other, or even of both—external polychromy and high
+mansard roofs, respectively—are to be found on such modest things as
+mills and working-class housing blocks as well as on major public
+monuments. The High Victorian Gothic first developed in Anglican
+ecclesiastical architecture and always carried with it a rather
+churchy flavour—sometimes quite ludicrously, as in the case of Gothic
+distilleries, Gothic public-houses, and Gothic sewage plants.
+Continental Neo-Gothic was more largely confined to churches,
+especially in France. The international Second Empire mode found its
+inspiration in the grandiose extension of a palace in Paris; something
+of the Parisian and even the palatial clung to it when it was used—as
+often in the non-French world—for such things as factories and modest
+suburban villas.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both the Victorian Gothic and the Second Empire had definite national
+homes, yet both were also full of elements of Italian origin. In that
+respect the High Victorian phase of the fifties and sixties was
+somewhat analogous to the Germanic <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>well as being the direct heir of the earlier and more puristic Gothic
+Revival of the forties in England. Often the Second Empire mode was
+even more Italianate, since it was in the main but a pompous
+modulation of the earlier Renaissance Revival. The one had its roots
+in the Picturesque, but it differed from earlier Picturesque
+manifestations in being a ‘style’—or very nearly such—not merely the
+reflection of a point of view. The other had roots not only in
+Romantic Classicism but also farther back in the High Renaissance and
+the Baroque; some qualities of those earlier styles were both
+continued and revived. But neither High Victorian Gothic nor Second
+Empire were ‘revivals’ in the sense of those of the first half of the
+century; they lived with a vigorous nineteenth-century life of their
+own, not one borrowed from the past. In both cases one may more
+properly say that they <i>had</i> revived.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Second Empire mode was the heir, or at least the successor, of the
+last universal style of the western world, the Romantic Classical.
+Moreover its wide international sway was hardly terminated by the end
+of Napoleon III’s reign in France any more than its beginning had
+waited for his enthronement. Concerning that sway it should be noted,
+however, that considered as a definite ‘style’ the Second Empire mode
+is very far from characterizing as much of French production in this
+age as of that in several other countries. Indeed, somewhat
+paradoxically, its actual initiation may almost be said to have
+occurred outside France and before the political Second Empire
+actually began in 1852. In this chapter and the next, certain
+alternative developments in succession to the earlier Renaissance
+Revival have been associated with the Second Empire mode, sometimes a
+bit arbitrarily perhaps, for lack of a more appropriate place to deal
+with them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although France was less affected by the Picturesque in the first half
+of the nineteenth century than England, the Renaissance Revival had
+permitted some straying from the more rigid paths of Romantic
+Classicism in the thirties and forties (see Chapters 3 and 6). The
+earliest French work of the twenties that may seem of Italian
+Renaissance inspiration is very severe and flat, approximating
+occasionally the effects of the German <i>Rundbogenstil</i> yet
+consistently disdaining that mode’s tendencies towards either
+medievalism or originality in detail. Gradually, under Louis Philippe,
+there were changes: on the one hand, there arose an interest in later
+periods of the Italian Renaissance; on the other, there came an
+increasing and less peripheral use of sixteenth-century and even later
+native models. Common to both these developments was an evident desire
+for richer and more plastic effects.<a id="r178"></a><a href='#f178' class='c025'><sup>[178]</sup></a> What above all distinguishes
+the mature Second Empire mode, even more in other countries than in
+France, is the elaboration of three-dimensional composition by the
+employment of visible mansard roofs and of pavilions at the ends and
+centres of buildings, these last capped either with especially tall
+straight-sided mansards or, even more characteristically, with convex
+or concave ones. Such features are rare before 1850 in France and
+almost unknown elsewhere.<a id="r179"></a><a href='#f179' class='c025'><sup>[179]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The return of the mansard in France is harder to document than its
+appearance as a new element of architectural composition in other
+countries, for in France it had never passed out of use as a practical
+device for providing usable attics. With the increasing emulation of
+sixteenth-century French models in the second quarter of the century
+tall
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>roofs of a more medieval sort began to be used with some frequency.
+Biet’s ‘Maison de François I’ of 1825 did not have them; but ten years
+later they are very prominent on the <i>François I</i> house Dusillion
+built in the Rue Vaneau. Moreover, Lesueur in the late thirties could
+hardly avoid their use when extending the sixteenth-century Hôtel de
+Ville (Plate <a href='#pl022a'>22<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). As noted earlier, it seems to
+have been H.-A.-G. de Gisors, at the École Normale Supérieure built in
+1841-7, who first re-introduced on a prominent building mansards of
+seventeenth- or early eighteenth-century character, and in association
+with detailing that suggests, vaguely at least, the <i>style Louis
+XIV</i>. By the late forties the use of such mansards was fairly
+common in France, although they rarely received much emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Had Dusillion in 1849-51 built the mansarded mansion for T. H. Hope<a id="r180"></a><a href='#f180' class='c025'><sup>[180]</sup></a>
+in Paris rather than in London therefore, or the Danish-born but
+Paris-schooled Detlef Lienau (1818-87)<a id="r181"></a><a href='#f181' class='c025'><sup>[181]</sup></a> his mansarded Hart M. Shiff
+house of the same date in France rather than in America, neither would
+have been especially notable. But in the England and the United States
+of the mid century emulation of French models was in itself novel.
+Dusillion’s and Lienau’s mansards, moderate enough by French
+standards, suggested to the English and the Americans a way by which
+edifices of generically Renaissance character could be given something
+of the bold silhouette that high pointed roofs provided for Victorian
+Gothic structures. Like Barry’s loggia-topped towers and his corner
+chimneys, mansards appealed directly to the mid century’s
+characteristic desire to break sharply away from the flat-surfaced,
+and nearly flat-topped, cubic blocks of Romantic Classicism. Pavilion
+composition offered a similar resource for the plastic modelling of
+façades.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1851, following immediately after the Hope house, came the
+designing of the Great Western Hotel at Paddington in London by the
+Hardwicks. This was still, one should note, before the Second Empire
+actually began in France. Gawky though this hotel is, and very
+uncertain in its use of French precedent, contemporaries generally
+recognized its inspiration as derived from the period of Louis XIV.
+The complex massing and the broken skyline, with roofs of different
+heights and pavilion-like towers at the ends, are much more obviously
+a premonition of the Second Empire mode in the form the world outside
+France would shortly adopt it than were the London and New York houses
+of two years earlier. Unlike Dusillion and Lienau, moreover, the
+architects of the Great Western Hotel, recognized masters of the dying
+Greek Revival as well as of the rising Gothic and Renaissance
+Revivals, were not French-trained.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the international Second Empire mode had thus, in a sense,
+beginnings outside France, it is nevertheless true that its spiritual
+headquarters was in Paris. The prestige of the new Emperor’s capital,
+a prestige rapidly regained after more than a generation of desuetude,
+quite as much as the visual appeal of multiple mansards and pavilioned
+façades, explains the world-wide success of the mode during, and even
+well after, the eighteen years that the Second Empire lasted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was in 1852 that Napoleon, then Prince-President, made himself
+Emperor. He had already signalized, a few months earlier, his ambition
+to revive the splendours not alone of his uncle’s rule but those of
+earlier French monarchs by his decision to complete the Louvre<a id="r182"></a><a href='#f182' class='c025'><sup>[182]</sup></a>—or
+more accurately to connect the Louvre with the Tuileries. This was a
+project
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>over which generations of architects had struggled on paper and at
+which several abortive starts had already been made. Visconti received
+the commission, not Duban, who had been engaged since 1848 on what was
+proving a highly controversial restoration of the old Louvre. Visconti
+was chosen not for his reputation as a private architect but largely
+because a succession of public projects for new library buildings in
+Paris that he had been asked to prepare under Louis Philippe and even
+under the Second Republic had all fallen through, and it was felt he
+deserved an important commission from the State. Perhaps also his Tomb
+of Napoleon I at the Invalides made him especially sympathetic to
+Napoleon III.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A viable scheme for the New Louvre was produced by the sixty-year-old
+Visconti with very great rapidity. Counting on the great size of the
+Cour du Carrousel to obscure the awkward lack of parallelism between
+the Louvre and the Tuileries, he planned two hollow blocks extending
+westward at either end of the existing western front of the old
+Louvre. Beyond these blocks narrower wings, in part built already,
+would connect with the two ends of the Tuileries Palace in which
+French rulers usually lived. In the middle of the court fronts of the
+side blocks there were to be large pavilions, echoing Le Mercier’s in
+the centre of the west wing of the old Louvre, and other smaller
+pavilions to mark the salient corners towards the Place du Carrousel.
+Although the new constructions were intended to house various
+things—two ministries, a library, stables for the Tuileries, etc.—they
+were designed comprehensively with no specific indication of what
+would go on behind the long walls and inside the various pavilions.
+The New Louvre was not a palace or Royal residence; but like the old
+Louvre, which by this time housed several disparate activities—most
+notably the chief art gallery of France—it was meant to be
+representationally palatial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1853 Visconti died and H.-M. Lefuel (1810-80), a pupil of Huyot,
+took over. Lefuel very much enriched the design and thereby provided
+the prime Parisian exemplar of the Second Empire mode, at least as the
+world outside France came to know it in the late fifties and sixties.
+Heavily though Lefuel leaned on the precedents provided by the various
+sections of the old Louvre, it is important to stress that his design
+did not represent, in the way of the first half of the century, a
+specific ‘revival’. For one thing, the old Louvre, begun by Pierre
+Lescot late in François I’s reign and carried forward by a succession
+of architects in the next four hundred years, offered a wide range of
+suggestions but no one consistent model. The most characteristic and
+striking features of the New Louvre, the corner pavilions, were those
+that were most eclectic in inspiration and in their total effect most
+nearly original (Plate <a href='#pl068'>68</a>). No part of the old Louvre is as
+boldly plastic as these pavilions with their rich applied orders set
+far forward of the wall-plane; only Le Mercier’s Pavillon de l’Horloge
+on the old Louvre offered precedent for the great height of all the
+new pavilion roofs and in particular for the convex mansards, like
+square domes, over the central pavilions flanking the Cour du
+Carrousel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sumptuous as was Goujon’s sculptural investiture of the earliest work
+in the court of the old Louvre, this was delicate in scale and very
+flat; much of the sculptural decoration of the new pavilions follows
+Goujon fairly closely, but even more—some of it nearly in the round—is
+so bombastically plastic as almost to justify the term ‘Neo-Baroque’.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>Although there is actual early-seventeenth-century precedent for most
+of their individual details, the very lush stone dormers set against
+the high straight mansards of the corner pavilions are particularly
+novel in effect. For the next thirty years, and even longer, such
+features of the New Louvre would be imitated all over the western
+world yet, paradoxically, they had much less influence in France and
+almost none in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As far as the outside world—particularly perhaps England and the
+United States, but hardly less Latin America—was concerned the New
+Louvre was the prime architectural glory of Second Empire Paris and
+the symbol, <i>par excellence</i>, of cosmopolitan modernity. Burghers
+in Amsterdam and Montreal, vacationers in Yorkshire and silver-miners
+in the Rocky Mountains all expected to find echoes of it in the
+sumptuous new hotels they frequented; Latin Americans continued to
+emulate it even into the twentieth century. Yet in the real Paris of
+the Second Empire, the Paris which is largely still extant today, the
+New Louvre is but one prominent structure among many and, as has been
+said, not even a very typical one.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The first Napoleon had had no time to carry out any considerable
+urbanistic reorganization of his French capital. But for the goodwill
+of his successors, notably Louis Philippe, the architectural projects
+that he was able to initiate would never have been brought to
+completion. His nephew, however, vowed to peace and not to war, had
+nearly two decades in which to build. Well before his reign began,
+moreover, he had definitely made up his mind to replan Paris more
+drastically than any great city had ever been replanned before.<a id="r183"></a><a href='#f183' class='c025'><sup>[183]</sup></a>
+Only a few fine squares, the Champs Élysées, and the Rue de Rivoli
+remain in Paris from earlier campaigns of urban extension and
+replanning; but the Paris of the Second Empire, the Paris of the
+boulevards and the great avenues, is the urbanistic masterwork of the
+third quarter of the nineteenth century, a period notably deficient in
+urbanistic achievement almost everywhere else except in Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For all the sumptuousness of the individual monuments with which the
+focal points of Napoleon III’s Paris were ornamented, their settings
+are generally more distinguished than the ‘jewels’ mounted in them; an
+exception, of course, is the Place de l’Étoile where, however, the
+jewel was inherited from an earlier period (Plate <a href='#pl007'>7</a>). This is
+because of the high standard of design that was maintained in the
+general run of new blocks of flats that lined the <i>places</i>, the
+boulevards, and the avenues (Plate <a href='#pl075a'>75<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Since in
+Second Empire Paris the urban totality is more significant than the
+individual buildings, and since over the years of the Empire—or for
+that matter down even to the eighties—there was very little stylistic
+development, the Parisian production of this period may well be
+presented more topographically than chronologically, as if one were
+outlining a tour<a id="r184"></a><a href='#f184' class='c025'><sup>[184]</sup></a> of its splendours.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is one extant railway station of some distinction belonging to the period at which
+to arrive. Yet this station, Hittorff’s Gare du Nord designed in 1861 and built in 1862-5,
+is perhaps less advanced than Duquesney’s Gare de l’Est, which was just being completed
+as the Second Empire opened (Plate <a href='#pl022b'>22<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The flat Ionic pilasters of the façade and
+the great archivolt-surrounded openings between them are evidence of the firm resistance
+that Hittorff’s generation put up against the lusher tastes of the mid century as expressed
+in Lefuel’s work on the New Louvre. Even more characteristically Romantic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>Classical, and probably finer though less famous than the Gare du Nord, was Cendrier’s
+Gare de Lyon, since demolished, which had been built almost a decade earlier at the same
+time as his Palais de l’Industrie in the early fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Proceeding from Hittorff’s station one strikes immediately the characteristic broad
+straight streets, often lined with trees, that were the new Second Empire arteries of Paris.
+The continuous ranges of grey stone buildings, their even skyline crowned with inconspicuous
+mansards, generally include shops below and always contain flats above.
+They are so designed as to attract very little attention to the individual structures,<a id="r185"></a><a href='#f185' class='c025'><sup>[185]</sup></a>
+almost as little as do the separate houses in London terraces. There is much less irregularity
+of outline than along Nash’s Regent Street, for example, and a general consistency
+in the size and phrasing of the windows. There is also very little noticeable variety in the
+handling of the conventional apparatus of academic detail so crisply carved in fine limestone.
+Even where, by great exception, some bolder architect such as Viollet-le-Duc
+used more original detail, the unity of character is barely disturbed, so consistent are the
+basic patterns of the façades (Plate <a href='#pl101a'>101<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since the plan of Paris has remained basically radial, the visitor has the choice of
+proceeding circumferentially along one of the lines of outer or inner boulevards or of
+turning inwards to the centre. It is more profitable, on the whole, to advance centripetally,
+for the outer boulevards are generally very monotonous. The Île de la Cité was
+the original core of Paris; the east-and-west axis of the Louvre, extended westward
+along the Champs Élysées all the way to the Étoile, already provided a central tract
+parallel to the Seine; the new cross axis was to be a north and south artery running from
+the Gare de l’Est to the Observatoire. On the Île the vast complex of the Palais de
+Justice, whose restoration and extension had been undertaken by Duc as early as 1840,
+received a notable Second Empire ornament in its western block, facing the Place
+d’Harcourt, which was built by Duc assisted by E.-T. Dommey (1801-72) in 1857-68.
+Rationalistic in its structural expression and Classical in most of its detailing,
+this façade and the hall behind it reflect the tastes of the period in the heavy scale of
+the parts and the rather cranky—and certainly studied—awkwardness of the modelling
+of the various conventional elements of the orders and minor features of detail. Duc’s
+earlier work at the Palais de Justice, on the other hand, was detailed with very great
+grace and elegance, it may be noted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The principal Second Empire construction on the east-and-west axis of Paris, the
+New Louvre, has been described already. Along the north side of the Louvre the Rue de
+Rivoli was extended eastward in 1851-5 the entire length of the palace with no change in
+the original Percier and Fontaine design except for the addition of high quadrantal mansards
+throughout the entire length of the street and its subsidiaries. Even a large new
+hotel<a id="r186"></a><a href='#f186' class='c025'><sup>[186]</sup></a> was forced into this framework. Yet because of its island site, the high rounded
+roofs give this block as it is usually seen from the Place du Théâtre Français to the north
+something of the new plasticity; it thus provided eventually an appropriate terminus to
+the Avenue de l’Opéra, after that was finally completed under the Third Republic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Facing the east side of the Louvre, Hittorff balanced the restored Gothic front of
+Saint-Germain-l’Auxerrois with the new front of the Mairie du Louvre built in 1857-1861.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Characteristic of this period in France is the avoidance of Gothic detail on this secular
+façade in favour of something vaguely <i>François I</i>; yet the pattern of the front
+of the church is carefully repeated, even to the rose-window in the high-pitched gable,
+and the new tower by Ballu, on axis between the Church and the Mairie, is Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Up to the Rond Point, the Champs Élysées is flanked by parked areas on either side
+and decorated by fountains and other features designed by Hittorff (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>). At
+the Rond Point there are a few very sumptuous <i>hôtels particuliers</i>, but beyond that the
+avenue was built up—or more accurately, for the most part, would eventually be built
+up—like a very broad boulevard flanked by large blocks of flats with shops and cafés
+below. In the open area on the left between the main axis, the river, and the new quarter
+which had taken its name ‘François I’ from Biet’s house, lay the Jardin d’Hiver of 1847
+and the Palais de l’Industrie of 1853-4. Here also is the Rotonde des Panoramas of 1857
+by G.-J.-A. Davioud (1823-81). Around the Arc de l’Étoile, at the far end of the
+Champs Élysées, are ranged pairs of dignified houses; these were designed by Hittorff
+with the collaboration of Rohault de Fleury in 1855 and executed in 1857-8 in a
+mode so academic as to be almost a revival of the <i>style Louis XVI</i> (Plate <a href='#pl007'>7</a>). The general
+layout of the <i>place</i> was determined by Haussmann, expanding a much earlier scheme of
+Hittorff’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What is most notable in all this mid-nineteenth-century construction along the main
+axis of the city is the continuity of taste between the Second Empire period and the
+period that preceded it. The only real echo of the New Louvre was in the big private
+houses set back from the Rond Point.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Avenue de l’Opéra, extending north-westward from the Place du Théâtre
+Français, has become, since its completion in 1878, the major cross axis, rather than the
+earlier Boulevard Sébastopol to the east. The Place de l’Opéra, with a short spur of the
+avenue at its south end, was laid out in 1858; and the façades of the buildings (Plate <a href='#pl070c'>70<span class='fss'>C</span></a>)
+around it began to go up in 1860 from the designs of Rohault de Fleury<a id="r187"></a><a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a> and Henri
+Blondel (1832-97). The Opéra<a id="r188"></a><a href='#f188' class='c025'><sup>[188]</sup></a> (more properly Académie Nationale de Musique)—after
+the New Louvre the most conspicuous product of the Second Empire—was begun in
+1861 from the design with which J.-L.-C. Garnier (1825-98), a pupil of Lebas who also
+worked briefly for Viollet-le-Duc, won the second competition held in that year. Although
+the Garnier design is often thought to be particularly characteristic of the taste
+of the Imperial couple, it was actually very unpopular with the Empress Eugénie; she
+had expected the project of her friend Viollet-le-Duc to be accepted and was furious
+when it failed to win. Substantially completed externally by 1870, the Opéra was not
+finally finished and opened until January 1875, so that neither Napoleon III nor Eugénie
+ever entered it.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here, at its heart, the contrast between setting and monument in Second Empire
+Paris is at its most extreme, even though this setting is far richer and more plastic
+than that provided by the severely flat houses that surround the Arc de l’Étoile. Just as
+there, however, the use of a giant order on all the big blocks that form the <i>place</i> reveals
+the distinctly academic taste of the leading French architects in this period; but Blondel’s
+rounded pavilions, where two major streets come in on either side at an angle, provide
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>an almost Baroque elaboration in the grouping of the various masses by which the
+complex space is defined (Plate <a href='#pl070c'>70<span class='fss'>C</span></a>). Certainly the result is very different from the large
+open areas surrounded by discrete blocks of plain geometrical shape favoured by
+Romantic Classicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Opéra is sumptuous in a rather different way from the New Louvre (Plate <a href='#pl070b'>70<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+Yet in Garnier’s work, as in Lefuel’s, a generically Neo-Baroque effect is achieved with
+elements mostly High Renaissance in origin, but here Italian rather than French. The
+richly coloured marbles, the admirably placed sculpture by Carpeaux, and above all the
+fashion in which the masses pile up—from the ornate colonnade crowning the main
+façade, through the half-dome which expresses the auditorium externally, to the tall
+stage-house at the rear—is much richer plastically than the somewhat repetitive scheme
+of the New Louvre. The whole, moreover, is made fully three-dimensional by the
+comparable organization of the major elements at the sides and on the rear. Thus Garnier
+provided a visual equivalent to the complex ordering of his extremely elaborate
+plan, a plan the undoubted virtues of which can be fully appreciated only on paper
+(Figure <a href='#i139'>15</a>). Inside the Opéra the great staircase, the foyer, and the actual auditorium
+drip with somewhat brassy gold and the profusion of detail has a curiously un-Renaissance
+spikiness and lumpiness (Plate <a href='#pl071'>71</a>). This quality underlines how un-archaeological
+was Garnier’s approach, how responsive he was (perhaps unconsciously) to the new
+tastes of the mid century that had produced the High Victorian<a id="r189"></a><a href='#f189' class='c025'><sup>[189]</sup></a> Gothic in England in
+the previous decade and fostered generally the international success of the Second Empire
+mode. When Eugénie asked him what the ‘style’ of the Opéra was—<i>Louis XIV</i>, <i>Louis
+XV</i>, <i>Louis XVI</i>—he replied with both tact and accuracy: ‘C’est du Napoléon III’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like the lushness of the New Louvre, Garnier’s lushness has an undeniably parvenu
+quality characteristic of the time and place; but the pace he set, however much emulated
+all over the world in later opera houses, and the peculiar capacity he showed for satisfying
+the taste for bombastic luxury of the third quarter of the century were never equalled
+by other architects, least of all by French ones. In the twin theatres flanking the Place
+du Châtelet,<a id="r190"></a><a href='#f190' class='c025'><sup>[190]</sup></a> which were built in 1860-2, Davioud, the architect of the Rotonde des
+Panoramas, made little attempt to vie with Garnier’s Opéra; but they are considerably
+more successful in their own right than is the Vaudeville in the Boulevard des Capucines
+of 1872 by A.-J. Magne (1816-85), which does. Garnier’s own Panorama Français of
+1882 at 251 Rue Saint-Honoré has only a modest façade to the street.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Only one other work of Garnier himself rivals the Opéra, his Casino at Monte Carlo
+of 1878. The fine site that this occupies somewhat makes up for its tawdry finish in
+painted stucco, and the two-towered façade towards the bay has a properly festive
+air. The Casino and Baths he built at Vittel in 1882, his Observatory at Nice, and the
+Cercle de la Librairie of 1880 in the Boulevard Saint-Germain in Paris are considerably
+quieter in design. The Palais Longchamps<a id="r191"></a><a href='#f191' class='c025'><sup>[191]</sup></a> of 1862-9 in Marseilles by H.-J. Espérandieu
+(1829-74), who had worked for Questel and for Vaudoyer, two palatial museum
+blocks joined by a curved colonnade above an elaborate cascade, is more Neo-Baroque
+than most work of the period (Plate <a href='#pl070a'>70<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); but much of the credit should go to
+the sculptor Bartholdi whose earlier fountain project Espérandieu took over.</p>
+
+<div id='i139'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>
+<img src='images/i139.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 15. J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, 1863-74, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>Despite what has been said of the houses at the Rond Point, most Second Empire
+mansions in Paris, at least those built by leading architects, tend to be rather restrained
+in their general design and often quite archaeologically correct in their detailing.
+They are likely, moreover, to follow French seventeenth- or eighteenth-century
+models rather than those of sixteenth- or seventeenth-century Italy. Already, in the
+Hôtel de Pontalba, Visconti had copied Versailles closely in the interiors, while his exterior
+followed the line of the early eighteenth-century <i>hôtels particuliers</i>. (This was drastically
+remodelled in the eighties.) Labrouste, in the Hôtel Fould, 29-31 Rue de Berri, which
+was built in 1856-8, was rather plausibly Louis XIII; while Alfred Armand (1805-88),
+a pupil of Leclerc and a frequent collaborator with Pellechet, in designing the Hôtel
+Pereire and its twin in the Place Pereire about 1855 approached the <i>style Louis XVI</i> as
+closely as Hittorff did round the Étoile. Nevertheless, study of Parisian exemplars inspired
+many foreign architects to design houses that could hardly be anything else but Second
+Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This is largely explained by the special character of the publications<a id="r192"></a><a href='#f192' class='c025'><sup>[192]</sup></a> of C.-D. Daly
+(1811-93), a pupil of Duban, and of P.-V. Calliat (1801-81), a pupil of Vaudoyer, through
+which current French work of this period chiefly became known to the outside world.
+Almost as was the case at the opening of the century, when the volumes illustrating Prix de
+Rome projects made the higher aspirations of French architects better known to students
+abroad than their ordinary practice, the publications of this later day seem to have
+focused attention on certain aspects only of the French architectural scene, aspects prominent
+enough, but not altogether characteristic as regards public monuments and
+dominant official taste. Without knowledge of the French architectural past, without
+the inhibitions instilled early in French architects by their training at the École des
+Beaux-Arts, foreign architects readily derived from published sources a Second Empire
+mode considerably lusher than was generally approved for public use in French academic
+circles and made it very much their own. Even in public architecture foreigners must
+have seen current work with different eyes from the French.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For example, the Tribunal de Commerce on the Île de la Cité, an agency provided in
+1858-64 with a building of its own instead of mere quarters in the Bourse, was supposed
+by French contemporaries to express in its detailing the Emperor’s personal enthusiasm
+for the <i>quattrocento</i> buildings that he had lately seen in Brescia. But posterity, like
+foreigners when the Tribunal was new, notes in this work of A.-N. Bailly (1810-92) the
+characteristic Second Empire mansards and the almost Neo-Baroque dome—which at
+Haussmann’s insistence was added to close the vista down the new north-south artery—not
+the uncharacteristically flat and delicately detailed façades. Far finer is the front of
+that section of the École des Beaux-Arts facing the Seine which was built by Bailly’s
+master Duban in 1860-2, finer and doubtless also truer to the most exigent taste of the
+day. Rather directly expressive of its interior uses—it houses exhibition galleries, etc.—the
+detailing of this façade is quite original without being at all cranky like Duc’s on the
+Palais de Justice, and the whole very subtle in composition (Plate <a href='#pl072b'>72<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Much of the cold
+severity characteristic of the previous half-century remains; but Duban was clearly trying
+to be creative, not archaeological, so that one cannot properly apply stylistic names
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>from the past, not even to the extent that it is possible to do so in the case of the New
+Louvre and the Opéra. However, such high distinction of design as Duban achieved
+here was rather rare in Second Empire Paris; it parallels in this period the equally exceptional
+distinction of Henri Labrouste’s Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève of the forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The accepted range of stylistic inspiration was so wide that it is often only a certain
+syncretism that gives buildings of this period, nominally in any one of half a dozen
+‘styles’, a recognizably contemporary flavour. So also new methods of construction,
+rather than superseding masonry in toto and thereby demanding original expression as
+in Victor Baltard’s Central Markets, were more characteristically fused with it, as in the
+reading-rooms of Labrouste’s libraries. Of these only the later, that in the Bibliothèque
+Nationale, was built under the Second Empire (Plate <a href='#pl069'>69</a>). Except for this Salle de Travail
+of 1861-9 and the Magasin or stacks, both so exciting to posterity, most of Labrouste’s
+other work at this institution, begun in 1855, is as derivative as his private houses; for the
+most part it is actually hard to say where the old seventeenth- and eighteenth-century
+buildings stop and his nineteenth-century additions and those of his successor J.-L. Pascal
+(1837-1920) begin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the increasing use of metal in all sorts of buildings, there was undoubtedly less
+sympathy for it than earlier, and hence less success in finding appropriate expression of
+its qualities (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). By exception, however, the Central Markets in Lyons of
+1858 by Antoine Desjardins (1814-82), a pupil of Duban, have a somewhat Labrouste-like
+elegance in the arched and pierced metal principals spanning the three naves that is
+not found in Baltard’s so much larger Central Markets in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In church architecture something like full eclecticism reigned in Paris under Napoleon
+III, although Gothic was most popular in the provinces. The new Parisian churches
+generally occupy focal points where major avenues join or boulevards change direction;
+but, like the Opéra, they have little visual relation to the sober settings provided by the
+blocks of flats among which they are placed. Instead, each one seems intended to illustrate
+an alternative mode quite different from the standard urban vernacular of the day.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Saint-François-Xavier in the Boulevard Montparnasse was begun by the elderly
+Lusson in 1861 and finished by T.-F.-J. Uchard (1809-91) in 1875. With its basilican
+plan and cold Early Renaissance detail, this might well have been built under Louis
+Philippe. Saint-Jean-de-Belleville by Lassus, on the other hand, begun in 1854 and completed
+in 1859 after his death, while larger and rather better built than his churches of
+the forties, hardly represents any advance over Gau’s Sainte-Clotilde, completed by
+Ballu only two years earlier. Neo-Gothic could hardly be duller. However, Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée
+(Plate <a href='#pl098'>98</a>), the parish church of the suburb of St-Denis, designed by
+Lassus’s associate and successor Viollet-le-Duc<a id="r193"></a><a href='#f193' class='c025'><sup>[193]</sup></a> in 1860 and built in 1864-7, is more
+comparable in quality to the contemporary High Victorian Gothic churches of England
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Victor Baltard’s church of Saint-Augustin, also of 1860-7, is not located, like the
+Gothic edifices by Lassus and Viollet-le-Duc, in a working-class district or suburb, but
+occupies a very prominent if awkwardly narrow triangular site in the Boulevard Malesherbes
+near its intersection with the Boulevard Haussmann. Considering the success of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>his Central Markets, it is not surprising that Baltard used iron here; but he did so with
+much less consistency and thoroughness than Boileau had done at Saint-Eugène (see
+Chapter 7). The arched iron principals of the roof accord very ill with the Romanesquoid-Renaissance
+design of the masonry structure below. The front, with its
+great rose window, is somewhat more effective. At least it provides a strong urbanistic
+focus among the standardized ranges of blocks of flats that line the boulevards in this
+quarter. Two other big Parisian churches are similar in quality although quite different
+in appearance. Ballu, in addition to finishing Sainte-Clotilde, built both Saint-Ambroise
+in the Boulevard Voltaire, which is certainly more plausibly Romanesque than Saint-Augustin,
+and also La Trinité in the Rue de la Chaussée d’Antin, which is much less
+plausibly <i>François I</i> than his later work at the Hôtel de Ville. La Trinité was built in
+1861-7, Saint-Ambroise in 1863-9. Both are vast and pretentious, but neither has much
+positive character. Like so many comparable examples of the eclecticism of this period
+in other countries, it is by their faults and not by any characteristic virtues that they are
+readily recognizable as products of the Second Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two Romanesquoid churches less prominently located, and hence less well known, are
+considerably more interesting. One is the parish church of Charenton, Seine, built by
+Claude Naissant (1801-79) in 1857-9; this is clearly composed and detailed with a somewhat
+eclectic elegance not unworthy of Labrouste or Duban. Much larger is Notre-Dame-de-la-Croix
+in the Rue Julien-Lacroix in the Menilmontant quarter of Paris. Built
+by L.-J.-A. Héret (1821-99), a pupil of Lebas, in 1862-80, this is a cruciform edifice with
+the vaulting ribs all of openwork iron like those of Saint-Augustin. For archaeological
+plausibility it compares not unfavourably with Questel’s church at Nîmes, begun some
+twenty years earlier, in the design of the masonry portions of the structure.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The only big Paris church of the sixties of much real distinction—the only French
+church, for that matter—is Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge at the intersection of the Avenue
+du Maine and the Avenue d’Orléans. This was built by J.-A.-E. Vaudremer (1829-1914),
+a pupil of Blouet and Gilbert, in 1864-70. Romanesque and Early Christian—perhaps more
+specifically Syrian—in inspiration,<a id="r194"></a><a href='#f194' class='c025'><sup>[194]</sup></a> this basilica is notably direct in its structural expression,
+nobly scaled, expressively composed, and restrained almost to the point of crudity
+in its detailing (Plate <a href='#pl072a'>72<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Vaudremer’s Santé Prison off the Boulevard Arago in Paris,
+which was commissioned in 1862 and built in 1865-85, is also Romanesquoid or at least
+in a sort of very simple <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. The still quite Durandesque character of this prison
+illustrates Vaudremer’s close linkage, through the work of his two masters, who had both
+specialized in designing prisons and asylums under Louis Philippe, with the classicizing
+rationalism of 1800. His much later Lycées of the eighties, Buffon and Molière in Paris
+and those at Grenoble and Montauban, on the other hand, reflect the more Gothic
+rationalism of Viollet-le-Duc (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Vaudremer’s work may have had some influence, around 1870, on the American
+Richardson, who was still a student in Paris when Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge was begun
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). However, no significant line of development led forward in France
+from his sort of church design. In a smaller and later Parisian church, Notre-Dame
+in the Rue d’Auteuil of 1876-83, Vaudremer himself showed no further development of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>his personal style, though the interior here is not unimpressive in its scale and proportions.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The vast and prominent church of the Sacré-Cœur on Montmartre in Paris was begun
+by Paul Abadie<a id="r195"></a><a href='#f195' class='c025'><sup>[195]</sup></a> (1812-84), a pupil of Leclerc, well after the Second Empire was over
+in 1874, and largely finished before the end of the century by the younger Magne
+(Lucien, 1849-1916). This is Romanesque in inspiration, too, but painfully archaeological—’painfully’,
+because its architect, in carrying out the restoration of his principal
+medieval exemplar, Saint-Front at Périgueux, seems to have sought to provide ‘precedent’
+for several of the features that he introduced here! Yet the bold exploitation of
+the remarkable site of this church, dominating Paris from the heights of Montmartre,
+and the bubble-like silhouette of its cluster of domes when seen from a distance give
+the Sacré-Cœur positive qualities lacking in most other French ecclesiastical work of the
+later nineteenth century except Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Architecture in France had been a highly centralized profession ever since the late
+seventeenth century. Under Louis XV a few provincial cities showed some capacity for
+independent activity, but this subsided during the unproductive years that followed the
+Revolution. Except to a certain extent in Lyons and Marseilles, local activity did not
+revive very notably in the first half of the nineteenth century. Under the Second Empire
+most French cities still remained content to follow the lead of Paris. There is hardly a
+large provincial town which did not—to stress first the positive side of the picture—lay
+out broad boulevards or straight avenues and line them with more or less successful
+versions of the <i>maisons de rapport</i> of Paris; on the negative side, the public buildings
+and churches were usually derived from, and too often very inferior to, prominent
+Parisian models.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the centres of the biggest cities one can well believe that one has not left Paris.
+Occasionally, however, there are urbanistic entities which have more vitality than the
+rigidly controlled and tastefully restrained new squares and streets of the capital. The
+fairly modest square in front of the cathedral at Nantes, with its ranges of high-mansarded
+blocks, is a case in point. Better known is the rising slope of the Cannebière, continued
+in the Rue de Noailles and the Allées de Meilhan at Marseilles, with the columnar dignity
+of the Chamber of Commerce on the left near the Vieux Port at the bottom and
+the paired Gothic towers of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul closing the vista at the top. Public
+buildings in smaller cities sometimes have a rather illiterate sort of gusto in their boldly
+plastic massing and exuberantly coarse detailing closer to Second Empire work abroad
+than to that of Paris; to some eyes these have a theatrical charm not unlike the period
+flavour of Offenbach’s operas. They often date from well after 1870.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Espérandieu’s Neo-Baroque Palais Longchamps at Marseilles has been mentioned
+(Plate <a href='#pl070a'>70<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Also at Marseilles is the enormous Romanesco-Byzantine cathedral of 1852-93,
+which was designed by the younger Vaudoyer (Léon, 1803-72), a pupil of his father
+and also of Lebas. Espérandieu became <i>inspecteur</i> on the job in 1858 and carried on the
+work after Vaudoyer’s death. This is hardly superior to Ballu’s Paris churches, much
+less to Vaudremer’s or even Abadie’s, but it is more striking plastically in its rather
+redundant combination of domed west towers, crossing dome, and transeptal domes;
+it is also exceptionally colouristic for France. There is an almost High Victorian Gothic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>brashness in the treatment of the exterior walls with bands of alternately white and green
+stone. Here the aggressive assurance of the period speaks with an even louder voice than
+at the New Louvre and the Paris Opéra; this assurance is echoed, moreover, near by in
+Espérandieu’s own high-placed church of Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde of 1854-64, a
+scenic accent of the most brazen Second Empire vulgarity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Marseilles Exchange, however, dominating its own tree-lined square, is rather
+similar to the Chamber of Commerce in the Cannebière as it rises among ranges of
+houses that are more Provençal than Parisian in the modesty of their painted stucco
+fronts. Originally begun in 1842 by Penchaud, the Exchange was largely built in 1852-60
+by his pupil Coste, but its style remains <i>Louis Philippe</i> rather than Second Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The great elaboration and consequent expensiveness of Second Empire modes of design,
+as generally executed in France in fine freestone, restricted their full exploitation to
+the capital and the largest provincial cities. There is a sort of economic striation, from
+the immense sums the Emperor and, after him, the authorities of the Third Republic—even
+though relatively impoverished—were willing to put into representational public
+construction at the top, through the level represented by what Parisian investors spent
+on blocks of flats or rich provincial cities on their principal monuments, down finally to
+the niggardly building budgets of small towns and villages. This striation provides a sort
+of analogue to the breakdown of that earlier stylistic unity which had been so marked
+and happy a characteristic of French architecture for at least a century and a half. That
+this breakdown was still relative in France is apparent when one turns to other countries
+where eclectic taste in this period was bolder and where the variation in expenditure
+on different sorts of buildings was at least as great.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>French architectural prestige revived internationally in the fifties to remain surprisingly
+high for another two generations.<a id="r196"></a><a href='#f196' class='c025'><sup>[196]</sup></a> However, the Second Empire mode was
+gradually succeeded internationally by another Parisian mode to which it is convenient
+to apply the name ‘Beaux-Arts’, from the École des Beaux-Arts out of whose instruction
+it stemmed. More and more foreigners went to Paris to study as the second half of
+the century wore on, until Paris became almost what Rome had been in the eighteenth
+century. In architectural education the influence of the École was especially strong in the
+New World; the training of English and most Continental architects was much less
+affected. The first two architectural schools to be founded in the United States, both by
+William Robert Ware (1832-1915)—himself, curiously enough, a practitioner of a
+fairly aggressive sort of Victorian Gothic (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>)—that at the Massachusetts Institute
+of Technology in Boston opened in 1865 and the somewhat later school at Columbia
+University in New York, were both based on the methods of the École.<a id="r197"></a><a href='#f197' class='c025'><sup>[197]</sup></a> French
+winners of the Prix de Rome were increasingly imported to serve as teachers, and three
+generations later the last of them had not yet left the United States. The influence of
+the École in Latin America was even more powerful, and the dominance of its ideas
+has lasted in some countries down almost to the present.<a id="r198"></a><a href='#f198' class='c025'><sup>[198]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both in the New World and the Old most cities grew like weeds in the third quarter
+of the century; the analogy is, indeed, a rather accurate one, for the growth was characteristically
+rank, uncontrolled, and destructive of earlier architectural amenities.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>Various European capitals, however, imitating Napoleon III’s re-organization of Paris,
+took advantage of the clearing away of their fortifications to lay out something equivalent
+to the <i>grands boulevards</i>. Florence during the late sixties, for example, when it was
+very briefly the capital of Italy, saw the laying out, according to the general plan of
+Giuseppe Poggi (1811-1901), of a range of avenues and squares that extend around the
+city to the east, north, and west on the site of the old walls. These districts, built up over
+the years 1865-77, display little or none of the new Second Empire afflatus. For the
+most part everywhere in Italy in this period the architecture is of generically Renaissance
+revival character. Only in the much later Piazza della Repubblica, carved out of
+the slummy heart of the city in the 80s and 90s, is there a heavy pomposity of scale that
+is curiously un-Florentine—the centre of nineteenth-century Athens might be Neo-Greek,
+but it was Munich, not Florence, that became characteristically Neo-Tuscan!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the old Savoy capital of Turin, where the first half of the century had seen such
+notable urbanistic projects, a vigorous local tradition continued to control most of the
+new work.<a id="r199"></a><a href='#f199' class='c025'><sup>[199]</sup></a> However, at the farther side of the Piazza Carlo Felice the Porta Nuova
+Railway Station was built in 1866-8, as was mentioned in Chapter 3, by the engineer
+Mazzuchetti and the architect Ceppi in a rather original sort of <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. The
+vast iron and glass lunette at the front still provides a handsome termination to the
+long axis of the Via Roma, although the rear of the station has been rebuilt since the
+War. Along the Corso Vittorio Emmanuele II the earlier arcades of Promis were continued
+almost indefinitely; but the detailing of the façades grew continually richer in
+evident emulation of Second Empire Paris. This influence also affected the building up
+of the contiguous quarter of the city. In the fine new square at the end of the Via Garibaldi,
+however, balancing the earlier Piazza Vittorio Veneto at the end of the Via Po,
+the Piazza dello Statuto opened in 1864, the façades by Giuseppe Bollati (1819-69) are
+not at all Parisian, but recall rather the local Academic Baroque of Juvarra. Especially
+effective, and rare in Turin, are the warm and tawny colours of the painted stucco walls
+here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the uniting of Italy and the eventual taking over of Rome as the capital of the
+kingdom of Italy on the downfall of Napoleon III in 1870, a tremendous expansion<a id="r200"></a><a href='#f200' class='c025'><sup>[200]</sup></a>
+of the old Papal city began. The two principal new streets extending eastward, the Via
+Venti Settembre and the Via Nazionale, were laid out in 1871 and built up over the next
+fifteen years. Vast and tawny-coloured like the Piazza dello Statuto in Turin, but much
+less distinguished in design, is the Finance Ministry in the former street built by Raffaele
+Canevari (1825-1900) in 1870-7. Equally grand in scale and much more dignified are
+the quadrantal façades of the Esedra built by Gaetano Koch (1849-1910) in 1885 at the
+head of the Via Nazionale facing Michelangelo’s Santa Maria degli Angeli (Plate <a href='#pl076a'>76<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+With the fine later fountain by A. Guerrieri and Mario Rubelli in the centre this provides
+a most impressive piece of late-nineteenth-century academic urbanism. It still offers a
+not altogether unworthy preface to the Baths of Diocletian—of which it actually occupies
+the site of the largest exedra—and to the new railway station (Plate <a href='#pl183b'>183<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), both
+so near, which epitomize between them the ancient and the modern worlds in the architecture
+of Rome.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>Koch’s Palazzo Boncampagni in the Via Vittorio Veneto, now the American Embassy,
+built in 1886-90, is also very dignified. It represents very well the occasional tendency
+in that decade towards restraint and sobriety in Renaissance design, a tendency that
+balances the contemporary stylistic development towards the Neo-Baroque. In the Via
+Nazionale the two most prominent edifices<a id="r201"></a><a href='#f201' class='c025'><sup>[201]</sup></a> by Italian architects, the Palazzo delle
+Belle Arti of Pio Piacentini (1846-1928) begun in 1882 and Koch’s Banca d’Italia of
+1889-1904, are both quite academic in a respectable Renaissance way, and in the latter
+case impressively monumental as well. The same applies <i>a fortiori</i> to the two principal
+public edifices begun in Rome in the eighties—not the respectability, goodness knows,
+but the monumentality. The enormous Palazzo di Giustizia, in a new quarter across the
+Tiber, is an incredibly brash example of Neo-Baroque loaded down with heavy rustication,
+doubtless of Piranesian inspiration. This was designed by Giuseppe Calderini (1837-1916)
+in 1883-7 and built in 1888-1910 without the intended high mansards.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the most overpowering new structure in Rome, dominating the whole city and
+blocking the view of both the ancient Forum and the Renaissance Campidoglio, is
+the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II, rising above the much enlarged Piazza Venezia
+at the head of the Corso. Largely the work of Count Giuseppe Sacconi (1854-1905),<a id="r202"></a><a href='#f202' class='c025'><sup>[202]</sup></a>
+who in 1884 won the third competition held for its design, this was begun in 1885 and
+continued after his death by Koch, Piacentini, and M. Manfredi (1859-1927), being
+finally brought to completion only in 1911 by the engineer R. Raffaelli. Hardly
+Second Empire nor yet quite ‘Beaux-Arts’, this most pretentious of all nineteenth-century
+monuments well illustrates the total decadence of inherited standards of Classicism
+in Europe towards the end of the century. It can be compared only with Poelaert’s
+Palace of Justice in Brussels, begun twenty years earlier, and entirely to the latter’s advantage
+even as regards mere gargantuan assurance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In general, Italian production of the second half of the century is of relatively slight
+interest; moreover, it often seriously upsets the balance of earlier urban entities by its
+heavy scale. The great exception, and the one ranking Italian work of the period, is
+generally recognized to be the Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele II in Milan. In Genoa, behind
+the theatre, the Galleria Mazzini of 1871 also exceeds in length, in height, and in
+elaboration all the galleries and passages built in various European cities in the first half
+of the nineteenth century, yet it is not essentially very different from them in its scale
+or its detailing. The vast cruciform Galleria in Milan, however, extending from the
+Piazza del Duomo to the Piazza della Scala, with a great octagonal space at the crossing,
+is in concept and in its actual dimensions more a work of urbanism than of architecture
+(Plate <a href='#pl075b'>75<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Built with English capital by an English firm, the City of Milan Improvement
+Company Ltd, and even, presumably, with some English professional advice—M.
+D. Wyatt was a member of the English board—this tremendous project more than
+rivals the greatest Victorian railway stations of London in the height, if not the span, of
+its metal-and-glass roof. But the actual designing architect was Italian, Giuseppe Mengoni
+(1829-77), and the Galleria de Cristoforis provided him with at least a modest local
+prototype. Erected in 1865-77 and now completely restored to its pristine richness and
+elegance, the Galleria scheme involved the enlargement of the Piazza del Duomo and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>the lining of two of its sides with related façades—executed only partly from Mengoni’s
+designs—as also the regularization of the Piazza della Scala. Alessi’s sixteenth-century
+Palazzo Marino, itself of almost Second Empire lushness, was enlarged to serve as the
+offices of the municipality and provided with a new façade in Alessi’s extreme Mannerist
+style across one side of the square facing La Scala. This was carried out in 1888-90 by
+Luca Beltrami (1854-1933), who had studied in Paris at the École des Beaux-Arts, to
+serve as municipal offices.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like all the other most prominent buildings of this period, Mengoni’s Galleria makes
+its impression by its size, its elaboration of detail, and above all its unqualified assurance.
+From the triumphal-arch portal, rising as high as the nave of the medieval Duomo,
+to the gilded arabesques of the pilasters, all is obvious, expensive, and rather parvenu;
+yet the setting—at once so comfortable and so magnificent—that it provides for urban
+life, centre as it has always remained of so much Milanese activity, has not been
+equalled since.<a id="r203"></a><a href='#f203' class='c025'><sup>[203]</sup></a> The Galleria Umberto I in Naples is a late and rather inferior imitation
+whose ornate entrance most ungenerously overpowers the San Carlo Theatre across the
+street. This was built by Emmanuele Rocco in 1887-90.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After Paris the most extensive and sumptuous example of the re-organization of a
+great city carried out in this period is not in Italy but in Austria. Vienna had been relatively
+inactive architecturally in the first half of the nineteenth century under Francis I
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>). His successor Francis Joseph, however, who came to the throne in 1848,
+set out in the following decades as <i>Kaiser</i> and <i>König</i> to see that his Imperial and Royal
+capitals should rival Napoleon III’s Paris. In 1857 the fortifications surrounding the old
+city of Vienna were removed, and the following year Ludwig Förster (1797-1863) won
+the competition for the layout of the Ringstrasse that was to take their place. The
+execution of this project, with many modifications, took some thirty years (Plate <a href='#pl074'>74</a>).
+Outside the actual walls there had been a wide glacis, and therefore the Ring could be
+developed not merely as a series of wide tree-lined boulevards like those of Paris but
+with large open spaces in which major public buildings were grouped. These edifices
+are even more various in style than the comparable ones in Paris, despite the fact that
+they were the work of a very closely knit group of architects. None of them is of specifically
+Second Empire character, though the high mansards and the pavilion composition
+of the New Louvre were used fairly frequently on private buildings in Vienna and
+throughout the Austro-Hungarian Empire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The earliest major project of Francis Joseph was the construction of the Arsenal, begun
+in 1849, where most of the leading architects of the period worked (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>).
+All in various versions of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, this group of buildings culminates in the
+centrally placed Army Museum of 1856-77 by Förster and his Danish son-in-law Theophil
+von Hansen (1813-91). On this the very ornate detail is Byzantinesque and
+Saracenic in inspiration, yet it is not without a distinctive flavour that is unmistakably
+of this particular period: the brilliant polychromy of the red and yellow brick walls
+almost seems to echo, like Vaudoyer’s Marseilles cathedral, the bolder effects of the
+contemporary High Victorian Gothic architects of England.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ferstel’s bank in the Herrengasse of 1856-60, also <i>Rundbogenstil</i>, has been mentioned
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>earlier. The North Railway Station of 1858-65 by Theodor Hoffmann was <i>Rundbogenstil</i>
+of an even more ornate sort, with only a rather modest iron-and-glass-roofed shed
+set between its two massive masonry blocks. This was badly damaged by bombing in
+the last War but not totally destroyed. On the other hand, the South Station, built in
+1869-73 by Wilhelm Flattich (1826-1900), a pupil of Leins in Stuttgart, was of rather
+conventional High Renaissance character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The typical and, one may suppose, the preferred stylistic vehicle of most Viennese
+architects in these decades was, indeed, a rather rich High Renaissance mode. This, for
+example, Hansen used very effectively for the Palace of Archduke Eugene of 1865-7
+and for the Palais Epstein at 1 Parlamentsring of 1870-3. He and Förster, and after
+Förster’s death Hansen alone, as well as many other architects, employed this mode
+ubiquitously for various big blocks of flats along the Ring and elsewhere (Plate <a href='#pl074'>74</a>).
+Good examples are such new hotels of the period as the former Britannia, still standing
+in the Schillerplatz, and the Donau, which once rose opposite the North Station.
+Both are by Heinrich Claus (1835-?) and Josef Grosz (1828-?) and were built in the
+early seventies. Their rather Barryesque raised end-pavilions, without mansards,
+and the heavily sumptuous detailing of the façades are most characteristic. The better
+known Sacher’s Hotel behind the Opera House, built by W. Fraenkel in 1876, is
+somewhat smaller and less lush, at least externally. The block at 8 Operngasse, built
+by Ehrmann in the early sixties, was topped with Parisian mansards, as are also the
+long blocks in the Reichstrasse behind the Parlament and the University on either
+side of the Rathaus; these also have open arcades at their base somewhat like those in
+Turin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As along the boulevards of Paris, there is a considerable homogeneity in the private
+architecture that lines the Ring and the many squares and streets that were built up at
+the same time. Only in the design of public monuments—often by much the same architects,
+it is worth noting—did a pompous and somewhat retardataire eclecticism rule.
+Consider the major works of Ferstel: his bank is <i>Rundbogenstil</i>; his Votivkirche of
+1856-79 is Gothic; his University something else again.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ferstel’s Gothic must be compared, not with the distinctly original High Victorian
+churches of its period in England (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>), but with Gau’s earlier Sainte-Clotilde
+in Paris (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>): it is certainly a considerable improvement over that in
+the general justness of the scale and the plausible laciness of the fourteenth-century detail.
+But in English terms the Votivkirche is still Early rather than High Victorian. The
+painted decoration by J. Führich and others, somewhat more discreet than that in the
+chief <i>Rundbogenstil</i> churches of Vienna, relieves effectively the coldness usual in these
+big Continental examples of Neo-Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ferstel’s much later University of 1873-4, which stands next door to his church and
+balances Hansen’s precisely contemporaneous Grecian Parlament (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>),
+is a richly plastic pavilioned composition of generically Renaissance character. It also
+has a high convex mansard over the central block like those on the New Louvre, a
+feature echoed on the Justizpalast in the Schmerlingplatz, built by Alexander Wielemans
+(1843-1911) after the University in 1874-81. So much for the main works of one
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>leading architect of the period. Not all Ferstel’s contemporaries had quite so varied a
+stylistic repertory, however.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Vienna, as in Paris, one of the most conspicuous and also one of the most successful
+and original of the new public buildings was the Opera House. This was built in 1861-9
+by Van der Nüll &amp; Siccardsburg in a mode quite unrelated to their earlier work at the
+Arsenal but one not easy to define. The Vienna Opera House is a somewhat simpler and
+less boldly plastic structure than Garnier’s, both in its generally right-angled massing,
+with pairs of rectangular wings projecting on each side towards the rear, and in the
+rather flat, somewhat <i>François I</i> detail. Yet the vast curved roof, actually rather like that
+over the buildings along the Rue de Rivoli, does give it a distinctly Second Empire air
+(Plate <a href='#pl074'>74</a>). Less grandly sited than the Paris Opéra, it was none the less balanced across
+the Opernring by one of the largest and handsomest of Hansen’s private works, the
+Heinrichshof of 1861-3 (Plate <a href='#pl073b'>73<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This had a fine glass-roofed passage through its
+centre and ranges of flats behind the elaborate Late Renaissance façades. It has unfortunately
+been demolished since the War to make way for a very poor modern block of
+offices.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Here by the Opera House, as at the Place de l’Opéra in Paris, the Viennese urban
+achievement of the age was concentrated. The Heinrichshof, with its raised central portion
+matching the high roof of the Opera House opposite and its corner towers corresponding
+to the mansarded pavilions of more definitely French-styled blocks of flats,
+offered a handsomer Austrian equivalent of the Second Empire mode than does the
+Opera House itself; for the Opera House lacks externally the lushness and bombast
+characteristic of the period at its most assured, while the auditorium within, re-opened
+in 1955, is today a much simplified reconstruction by Erich Boltenstern (b. 1896). Yet the
+masonry exterior of the Opera House is clean and fresh today thanks to Boltenstern’s
+restoration and, with the great staircase and foyer regilded and refurbished generally, it
+offers a lighter and more festive vision of the period than do the vast majority of Viennese
+buildings whose stucco so often badly needs a coat of paint.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Hansen’s Musikvereinsgebäude of 1867-9 in the Dumbagasse is academic in an almost
+eighteenth-century way, both as regards the general organization of the exterior and the
+restraint of the detailing. In his still later Parlament of 1873-83, as has been noted earlier,
+he produced the last grandiose monument of the Greek Revival. More characteristic,
+however, is his contemporaneous Academy of Fine Arts of 1872-6 in the Schillerplatz.
+This is externally in the Renaissance mode that he presumably preferred after he left
+Athens, but it has Grecian detailing inside of a delicacy and elegance that recalls the
+thirties. Especially handsome is the colonnaded Aula in the centre, even though its rich
+painted ceiling of 1875-80 by Anselm Feuerbach is inappropriately Baroque in a rather
+Rubens-like way.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another Austrian architect besides Ferstel was using Gothic for prominent Viennese
+edifices in this period (see also Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). After Ferstel’s Votivkirche the next Neo-Gothic
+structure was the Academische Gymnasium in the Beethovenplatz; this was
+built in 1863-6 by Friedrich von Schmidt (1825-91), who had worked earlier under
+Zwirner on the restoration and completion of Cologne Cathedral. But the school was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>soon outshone in size and in elaboration by Schmidt’s Rathaus of 1872-83. This stands
+between Hansen’s Parlament and Ferstel’s University but in a line with the Reichstrasse
+at their rear. The Vienna Rathaus is certainly not unrelated to G. G. Scott’s
+Victorian Gothic and that of Waterhouse in England, particularly in the side wings
+that end, eclectically enough, in high-mansarded pavilions. But the general fussiness
+of the turreted front recalls rather pre-Puginian Gothic, say Porden’s Eaton Hall of
+seventy years earlier (see Chapters <a href='#ch06'>6</a> and <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the total visual unlikeness of the Rathaus to its Grecian neighbour, the Parlament,
+both have a similarly obsolete air. It is as if Francis Joseph’s presumptive intention
+in the fifties of outbuilding Napoleon III had been succeeded by a belated and rather
+provincial desire to outrival the larger structures in other countries in the two leading
+modes of the previous period, the Greek Revival and the Gothic Revival, neither much
+represented hitherto in Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet an equally prominent public monument of the seventies and eighties, the Burgtheater,
+which stands just opposite the Rathaus, is of a Late Renaissance, almost Neo-Baroque
+order, with a distinctly Second Empire flavour to its bowed front and generally
+very plastic composition (Plate <a href='#pl073a'>73<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This, the most distinguished of all the public
+monuments along the Ringstrasse, was built in 1874-88 by Semper, whose international
+career in Germany, England, and Switzerland wound up in Vienna after he was called
+there in 1871 by Francis Joseph to advise on the extension of the Hofburg Palace.
+Except perhaps in its bowed front, this Viennese theatre does not much resemble the
+rebuilt Dresden Opera House of 1871-8 which Semper had just designed
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).
+Perhaps Semper and his Viennese partner Karl von Hasenauer (1833-94), a pupil
+of Van der Nüll and of Siccardsburg, were somewhat influenced by the plans on
+which they were working together for the extension of the nearby palace; these
+were, not inappropriately, in the Austrian Baroque of Fischer von Erlach’s unfinished
+Michaelertrakt of the Hofburg dating from the second quarter of the
+eighteenth century. However that may be, the theatre, boldly scaled and tightly composed,
+is a far more successful building than the very derivative Neue Hofburg projecting
+out towards the Ring as that was executed in 1881-94 by Hasenauer after
+Semper’s death. The post-War restoration of the theatre and the rebuilding of its
+auditorium are by Michel Engelhart (b. 1897).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Semper and Hasenauer’s two vast Museums of Art History and Natural History face
+each other on a large square across the Burgring from the Neue Hofburg. Of identical
+design, they were both largely built in 1872-81. In the treatment of the exteriors—they
+were finished internally only very much later—as also in some of Hansen’s very latest
+work in Vienna, one senses a conscious rejection of the bold plasticity and the compositional
+elaboration characteristic of the preceding decades, and most notably of the
+Burgtheater. The Renaissance detail is by no means sparse, but there is an academic sort
+of primness and orderliness belonging to the last quarter of the century such as has
+been noted earlier in Koch’s Roman work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Bodenkreditanstalt built by Emil von Förster (1838-1909), Ludwig’s son, in
+1884-7 is still more severe in its Florentine <i>quattrocento</i> way, recalling the more Tuscan
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>aspects of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. With this may be contrasted the unashamed Neo-Baroque
+of Karl König’s Philipphof of 1883, introducing one of the modes most characteristic
+of the end of the century in both Austria and Germany.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Budapest, the second capital of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, was also much embellished
+with public buildings by Francis Joseph. Stüler from Berlin worked here, using
+a quiet version of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> for the Academy of Sciences in 1862-4. But the later
+and more ornate <i>Rundbogenstil</i> of Berlin and Vienna had already been echoed in Budapest
+by Frigyes Feszl (1821-84) in the Vigado Concert Hall of 1859-65. This could
+easily be by Ferstel, so similar is it to his bank in Vienna. The leading Hungarian architect
+of the period, Miklós Ybl (1814-91), who was trained in Vienna, also used the
+<i>Rundbogenstil</i>, but of a rather more Romanesquoid sort, for the Ferenczváros Parish
+Church which he built in 1867-78. However, his Renaissance Revival Custom House of
+1870-4 is more nearly up to the best Vienna standards of the day as maintained by
+Hansen. The Opera House that Ybl built in 1879-84, with its boldly convex mansards,
+vies in its rich plasticity with Garnier’s, but none too successfully. The Szent Lukásh
+Hotel by R. L. Ray (1845-99), a Swiss-born pupil of Gamier, is one of the largest mansarded
+Second Empire hotels anywhere in the western world. On the whole, the dominant
+influences in Hungary were Austrian and German, however, not Parisian, as is
+hardly surprising. No autochthonous note was struck; as is true of all Eastern Europe,
+the architecture of this age is as essentially colonial in character as in the outlying British
+Dominions or in Latin America, although the models emulated were rather different.</p>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>
+  <h2 id='ch09' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 9</span><br />SECOND EMPIRE AND COGNATE MODES ELSEWHERE</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>In</span> the cities of Germany and of Northern Europe generally there were in this period no
+such comprehensive urbanistic developments as in Paris and Vienna. Some individual
+public monuments are, perhaps, not inferior to those that Napoleon III and Francis
+Joseph obtained from their architects; but these are rarely grouped into such coherent
+entities as the Marktplatz in Karlsruhe of the first quarter of the century or the Ludwigstrasse
+in Munich of the second quarter. The domestic building of the period is also
+considerably less consistent in character than in Paris and Vienna.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The architectural scene in Germany was overshadowed by the distinguished achievements
+of the previous period. The Schinkel tradition, although increasingly corrupted,
+lasted on almost indefinitely not merely in Prussia but in most German states. Stüler,
+Schinkel’s ablest disciple in Berlin after the death of the short-lived Persius, remained an
+internationally respected practitioner. He was employed in Sweden and in Hungary, as
+has been noted, not to speak of German cities, down to his death in 1865. By him and
+by many others the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> was employed quite as late as in Austria-Hungary
+both in the various German states and also in the Scandinavian countries. Such a very
+large and prominent public building as the Berlin Rathaus of 1859-70 by H. F. Waesemann
+(1813-79) well indicated the long-continued hold of this mode on German
+officialdom. Nor was this particularly inferior in quality to much similar work produced
+in the earlier heyday of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i> before 1850. As in Austria, however,
+alternative modes were growing increasingly popular, even though none rose to a local
+dominance comparable to that of revived Renaissance in Vienna. The taste of the
+period for elaboration, both in general composition and in detail, is everywhere evident
+regardless of the mode employed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>French influence was not absent; indeed, specifically Second Empire features were
+perhaps more common than in Austria. G. H. Friedrich Hitzig (1811-81), a former
+assistant of Schinkel’s, had actually studied in Paris. After Stüler, he was the most prominent
+and successful architect of the period in Berlin, and in the fifties he built a few
+mansarded houses there. Along the new Viktoriastrasse in the Tiergarten quarter, where
+he did a great deal of work in 1855-60, one house among the eight that he built was
+mansarded; the others and most of those he was erecting near by in the Bellevuestrasse,
+the Stülerstrasse, and other streets at the same time were, however, in a much elaborated
+Schinkelesque vein. Suburban houses of the sixties occasionally followed Parisian
+modes also; but far more were clumsy variants of Schinkel’s and Persius’s Italian Villas,
+or else in some sort of equally clumsy Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Public buildings in Germany were only occasionally designed in the mansarded mode
+and, in general, only after the mid sixties. The Baugewerkschule in Stuttgart, built in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>1866-70 by Josef von Egle (1818-99) its director, had projecting centre and end pavilions
+with crudely Parisian detailing. It is curious to realize that it was contemporary
+with Leins’s belated but rather distinguished Grecian Königsbau there. In Cologne
+the High School of 1860-2, and the Stadttheater of 1870-2 by Julius Raschdorf
+(1823-1914), both destroyed in the last War, were heavily mansarded and very plastically
+modelled; the latter, at least, on which H. Deutz collaborated with Raschdorf, had
+some real compositional interest in the tight interlocking of the masses (Plate <a href='#pl077b'>77<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+Despite their very evidently French character, both were considered by contemporaries
+to be ‘German Renaissance’—as, for that matter, was Wieleman’s Justizpalast in
+Vienna—because of the specific precedent of much of the detail; German Renaissance
+was by this time the latest fashion, but to later eyes these buildings in Cologne were no
+more characteristic examples of it than the one in Vienna. Raschdorf is better known in
+any case for his much later Neo-Baroque work, notably the Berlin Cathedral, for which
+he prepared the design in 1888, although it was not built until 1894-1905.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Military Hospital by F. Heise in Dresden of 1869 was considerably more French
+in the strong articulation of the mansarded centre and end pavilions and also in its quite
+Parisian detailing than Raschdorf’s contemporary buildings in Cologne. More prominent
+in Dresden by far, however, is the Hoftheater, which is not at all French in
+character. This was designed in 1871 by Semper after his earlier theatre there had been
+destroyed by fire; its construction was supervised by Semper’s son Manfred after he
+settled in Vienna, and completed in 1878. Gone was most of the festive grace and delicacy
+of his Hamburg and Dresden work of the forties, even though the auditorium was
+not dissimilar to the one that had been destroyed. Yet in the arrangement of the interior
+and the disposition of the masses this rivals in clarity of organization the opera-houses
+of Garnier in Paris and of Van der Nüll &amp; Siccardsburg in Vienna. The plans undoubtedly
+owed a great deal to the elaborate studies Semper had made for Ludwig II in
+1865-7 for an opera-house to be built in Munich especially for the production of
+Wagner’s operas.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The relative importance of Berlin was, of course, rising well before its establishment as
+the imperial capital in 1871. Friedrich Hitzig’s most considerable public building in
+Berlin, the Exchange, built in 1859-63 at the same time that the Rathaus was in construction,
+was neither Schinkelesque nor <i>Rundbogenstil</i> but in a rather academic sort of
+Late Baroque (Plate <a href='#pl077a'>77<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Hitzig seems to have been consciously recalling what Knobelsdorf
+built for Frederick the Great and thus presaging the more overt Neo-Baroque
+of the last decades of the century. His later Reichsbank of 1871-6, on the other hand,
+was in general considerably more Classical despite its banded and diapered walls in
+two colours of brick.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The public buildings of Martin K. P. Gropius (1824-80) are also indicative of the
+general stylistic stasis of this period in Germany. His Museum of Decorative Art in
+Berlin, begun in 1877 and completed in 1881 by Heinrich Schmieden (1835-1913), resembled
+Hitzig’s houses of the fifties in its Grecian elaboration; it also recalled Klenze’s
+Hermitage Museum, built more than a generation earlier in Petersburg. Gropius &amp;
+Schmieden’s still later Gewandhaus in Leipzig of 1880-4, however, is less reminiscent of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>Schinkel or Klenze and more conventionally academic. This concert hall was renowned
+for its superb acoustics.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is easy to forget how much the architects of these decades, apparently obsessed with
+stylistic elaboration, were also concerned to incorporate in their buildings all sorts of
+technical advances. Iron may show less than in the previous period, but it was quite
+consistently used behind the scenes. Central heating, extensive sanitary equipment,
+vertical transportation, and various other things that are taken for granted today first
+became accepted necessities in these decades. But it was only in the commercial field—and
+in England and the United States above all—that such technical innovations influenced
+architecture very positively or visibly (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>), however much they
+must actually have preoccupied architects who seem today so imitative and retardataire.
+The Anhalter Bahnhof in Berlin by Franz Schwechten (1841-1924), however, built in
+1872-80, did represent a real advance over the principal English railway station of this
+period, St Pancras in London of 1863-76, in the clarity and coherence of its organization.
+One can hardly say that the shed roof of the Anhalter Bahnhof was in the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>;
+yet it is much more happily related in scale and shape to the masonry elements of the
+station than are the two parts of that in London, world-famous nonetheless until the
+nineties for the unrivalled span of its shed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Architectural activity in Bavaria was of a very different order. The Ludwigsschlösser,<a id="r204"></a><a href='#f204' class='c025'><sup>[204]</sup></a>
+the country palaces that Ludwig II of Bavaria erected for his private delectation after he
+succeeded Maximilian II in 1864, are the playthings of a monarch mad about Louis XIV.
+Linderhof, built in 1870-86, revived a local Bavarian sort of Baroque, and was thus even
+more premonitory of a favourite German mode of the eighties and nineties than Hitzig’s
+Berlin Exchange (Plate <a href='#pl084'>84</a>). Herrenchiemsee, first projected as early as 1868 but begun
+only in 1878, is a direct imitation of Versailles. Neuschwanstein, on the other hand, is a
+wild Wagnerian fantasy of a medieval castle occupying a superb mountain site.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It must be assumed that the architect of the first two, Georg von Dollmann (1830-95),
+was little more than the draughting agent of his master’s dreams of grandeur. More
+interesting than the exteriors are the incredibly rich interiors of Linderhof, operatic recreations
+of the Bavarian Rococo. Appropriately enough these were designed by Franz
+von Seitz (1817-83), then director of the Munich State Theatre, who was famous for his
+stage-sets. At Herrenchiemsee, however, many of the interiors were exact copies of the
+main apartments of Louis XIV at Versailles. These were executed by Julius Hoffmann
+(1840-96), who began to work under Dollmann in 1880 and succeeded him in 1884.
+More original were certain other rooms at Herrenchiemsee designed by F. P. Stulberger
+after 1883 in an even more elaborate and fantastic Neo-Rococo than those by Seitz at
+Linderhof.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ludwig II had another obsession besides the majesty of Louis XIV, and that was the
+genius of Richard Wagner. This cult is almost nauseatingly reflected at Neuschwanstein,
+for which Riedel, who had built Schloss Berg in 1849-51, prepared the original design in
+1867. Construction there began in 1869, was taken over by Dollmann in 1874, and only
+completed as regards the exterior in 1881; much of the decoration is still later. Despite
+Ludwig’s romantic love of the real Romanesque of the Wartburg, Neuschwanstein
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>really differs very little from the fake castles of the first half of the century, except in its
+very ingenious adaptation to a most precarious site. It is the later interiors, designed by
+Hoffmann in the early eighties, that attempt to realize the Wagnerian legends both in the
+architectural detailing and in endless murals. The whole culminates in the Byzantinesque
+throne room of 1885-6 intended by Ludwig to be a sort of ‘Grail Hall’ from
+<i>Parsifal</i>. The results of his other obsession are more gratifying to the eye.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Never again would any ruler, however, not even in Germany, be so spendthrift a
+patron of architecture. Considering the deterioration in quality evident in these palaces
+and castles of the seventies and eighties from the work done for Ludwig’s predecessor
+Ludwig I or for Frederick William IV of Prussia in the thirties and forties, this was just
+as well. Fortunately the activities of William II were less related to the building arts;
+and Hitler, a thwarted architect, had too little time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far more typical of the turn German architecture in general was taking in the seventies
+than the Ludwigsschlösser were such things as the von Tiele house in Berlin by
+Gustav Ebe (1834-1916) and Julius Benda (1838-97). In its crawlingly rich German
+Renaissance detail and its irregularly gabled silhouette this prepared the way far more
+definitely than Raschdorf’s contemporary Cologne buildings for a veritable flood of
+such coarse work all over Germany in the next decade. This characteristic German
+mode has analogies with the English style-phase of the seventies and eighties somewhat
+perversely known as ‘Queen Anne’; more specifically it often resembles very closely
+what is called ‘Pont Street Dutch’ in England. But leadership comparable to that provided
+in England by Webb and Shaw was entirely lacking, and even lesser talent of
+the order of George’s or Collcutt’s (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Usually executed in dark-coloured brick with stone trim, this prime manifestation
+of the bourgeois ambitions of the Bismarckian Empire produced a spate of buildings of
+all sorts that have come to look very grim indeed with the accumulated smoke of years.
+Old photographs indicate that many of them once had a certain lightness and even a
+quite festive air, Wagnerian in the <i>Meistersinger</i> vein rather than in that of the <i>Ring</i> as at
+Neuschwanstein. But the materials used were always hard and mechanically handled
+and the execution of the detail at once fussy and metallic. No positive originality in
+general composition or in planning made up, as with much comparable work in England,
+for the anti-architectonic character of the basic approach.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A prominent late example is the Rathaus<a id="r205"></a><a href='#f205' class='c025'><sup>[205]</sup></a> in Hamburg built in 1886-97. This vast
+and turgid edifice contrasts most unhappily with the suave High Renaissance design of
+Wimmel &amp; Forsmann’s contiguous Exchange built in the thirties. Its tall tower, moreover,
+has neither the richness of outline of Scott’s on the Nikolaikirche nor the simple
+directness of de Chateauneuf’s on the Petrikirche, with both of which it still disputes the
+central position on the Hamburg skyline.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The nationalistic ‘Meistersinger mode’, so to call it, had only too long a life, lasting
+well into the twentieth century. But it was early challenged by a new modulation of
+German taste in the eighties, parallel to that which the English also experienced, towards
+an eighteenth-century revival—here in Germany definitely Neo-Baroque—of
+which Linderhof was probably the first really sumptuous and striking example. Ebe &amp;
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>Benda early deserted the German Renaissance for a German Baroque at least as chastened
+as that of Hitzig’s much earlier Exchange when they built their Palais Mosse in
+Berlin of 1882-4. In 1882 Paul Wallot (1841-1912), who had also worked earlier in the
+Meistersinger mode, won the competition for the Reichstag Building with an overpoweringly
+monumental Neo-Baroque project recalling Vanbrugh more than Bernini
+or Schlüter. Erected by him in 1884-94, this was soon matched at the inner end of
+Unter den Linden by Raschdorf’s cathedral.</p>
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i156a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+</div>
+
+<div id='i156b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i156b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 16<span class='fss'>A</span> and 16<span class='fss'>B</span>. Vilhelm Petersen and Ferdinand Jensen: Copenhagen, Søtorvet, 1873-6, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c028'>Unlike Napoleon III and Francis Joseph, the German emperors William I, Frederick I,
+and William II did not succeed in making their capital an important exemplar of nineteenth-century
+urbanism. Moreover, the influential position that Germany had occupied
+in the international world of architecture in the first half of the century was less and less
+maintained after the death of Stüler. Not until the twentieth century did Germans again
+make a significant contribution to European architectural history (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the deterioration of German leadership in the seventies and eighties went also a
+general decline in the architectural standards of the Scandinavian countries that had so
+successfully based their later Romantic Classicism and their <i>Rundbogenstil</i> on German
+models of the thirties, forties, and fifties. In Denmark the work of Meldahl was increasingly
+inferior to that of Herholdt. Although he was only nine years younger than Herholdt,
+his direction of the Copenhagen Academy, beginning in 1873, coincided with the
+feeblest and most eclectic period in Danish architecture, from which recovery started
+only in the nineties with the early work of Martin Nyrop (1849-1925) in Copenhagen
+and of Hack Kampmann (1856-1920) in Aarhus (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A characteristic urbanistic development of the seventies in Copenhagen, the Søtorvet
+built in 1873-6 by Vilhelm Petersen (1830-1913) and Ferdinand Vilhelm Jensen (1837-90),
+is French not German in its ultimate inspiration. This grandiose pavilioned and
+mansarded range of four tall blocks forms a shallow
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+square along a canal
+(Figure <a href='#i156b'>16</a>). Its definitely Second Empire character may not, all the same, have derived
+directly from Paris but via German or English intermediaries, so much more typical is
+this of the international than of the truly Parisian mode of the third quarter of the
+century.</p>
+
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>
+<img src='images/i157a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+</div>
+<div  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i157b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>As late as 1893-4 the much more conspicuous Magasin du Nord department store,
+built by A. C. Jensen (1847-1913) and his partner H. Glaesel in the Kongens Nytorv in
+Copenhagen, also carried the high mansarded roofs of the new Louvre, both flat-sided
+and convex-curved, above its end and centre pavilions. The detailing was chastened,
+however, by memories of local palaces and mansions in the nearby Amalie quarter of
+the city, where Jensen had worked on the completion of the eighteenth-century Marble
+Church. The Magasin du Nord thus combines two characteristic aspects of the architecture
+of the period, evident in most countries but rarely thus joined: a reflection of
+Napoleon III’s Paris, elsewhere reaching its peak around 1870, and a revival of the style
+of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, generally beginning about a decade later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Sweden also there was some Second Empire influence, although nothing very
+notable resulted from it. The Jernkontovets Building in Stockholm erected by the
+brothers Kumlien (A.F., 1833-?; K.H., 1837-97) in 1873-5 has a high mansard and
+pavilions combined with a respectably academic treatment of the façades that is quite
+different from the bombast of the Søtorvet. Bern’s Restaurant in Stockholm of 1886 by
+Åbom, whose more conservative Renaissance Revival theatre of thirty years earlier has
+been mentioned, is similarly Parisian, particularly in the decorations that were provided
+by Isaeus.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With I. G. Clason (1856-1930) the tide of eclecticism in Sweden turned more nationalistic.
+The Northern Renaissance of his Northern Museum, built in 1889-1907, parallels
+somewhat belatedly the Meistersinger mode in Germany; but it also shows a more
+refined and delicate touch, somewhat like that of George and of Collcutt in England.
+As in most other countries, the revival of the native sixteenth-century style was soon
+succeeded by a revival of the Baroque, here rather academically restrained. This phase
+is most conspicuously represented in Stockholm by the grouped Parliament House and
+National Bank of 1897-1905 by Aron Johansson (1860-1936). In the nineties Ferdinand
+Boberg (1860-1946) was also initiating a new movement somewhat comparable to
+that led by Nyrop in Denmark (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The modes of Second Empire Paris left rather more mark on Holland than did those
+of the First Empire, particularly in the work of Cornelis Outshoorn (1810-75), whose
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>iron-and-glass Paleis voor Volksvlijt in Amsterdam of the late fifties has been mentioned
+earlier. That is long gone, but the related Galerij, a
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+range of mansarded blocks linked by a sort of veranda of cast iron,
+till lately bounded the south of the Frederiksplein. His enormous
+Amstel Hotel, near by on the farther side of the Amstel, was built in
+1863-7. At Scheveningen the Oranje Hotel (1872-3), also by him, was
+one of several typical resort establishments there of an international
+Second Empire order, as is also his hotel at Berg-en-Dal near Nijmegen
+(1867-9). Fairly generally high mansards rose in the sixties and
+seventies over the narrow house-fronts in the new quarters of Dutch
+cities. However, the opposing Neo-Gothic is more significant
+historically in Holland, and the secular work of Cuijpers as well as
+his churches, although rather like Clason’s, is better considered in
+that connexion (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). As in the Scandinavian
+countries, the nineties saw new beginnings in Holland, in this case
+with the appearance of Berlage and Kromhout (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The principal Anglo-American developments in the second half of the
+century were in the specialized fields of domestic and commercial
+building (see Chapters <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). England, moreover,
+had from 1850 to the early seventies a lively stylistic development of
+her own, the High Victorian Gothic, rather different from the later
+Neo-Gothic of the Continent, which was also very influential in the
+Dominions and in the United States (see Chapters <a href='#ch10'>10</a> and <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).
+Nevertheless, the international Second Empire mode flourished on both
+sides of the Atlantic among Anglo-Saxons to a greater extent, perhaps,
+than anywhere in Europe. It is not, of course, possible to subsume all
+non-Gothic work of these decades in England under the Second Empire
+rubric any more than on the Continent. Yet, with certain notable
+exceptions, the most vigorous and conspicuous buildings of a
+generically Renaissance character were clearly inspired by Paris, and
+often specifically by the New Louvre, as Prosper Mérimée noted and
+wrote to Viollet-le-Duc while on a visit to London in the mid sixties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most considerable English public monument built just after the mid century, the
+Leeds Town Hall of 1855-9, is by Cuthbert Brodrick (Plate <a href='#pl078a'>78<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). That Brodrick was an
+architect markedly French in his leanings has already been noted in describing his Leeds
+Corn Exchange, which is later in date but earlier in style than his Town Hall (see
+Chapter 4). But this major early work, for which Brodrick won the commission in a
+competition in 1853, is not easily pigeon-holed stylistically. The great hall inside derives
+quite directly from Elmes’s in Liverpool, designed almost a quarter of a century earlier,
+though not opened until 1856. The exterior recalls in its grandiose scale the English
+Baroque of Vanbrugh more than it does anything that had even been projected since
+the megalomaniac French projects of the 1790s. The Leeds Town Hall is certainly no
+longer Romantic Classical, no longer Early Victorian; yet except for the rather clumsy
+originality of some of the detail and the varied outline of the tower—a late emendation
+of the original project of 1853—it is hard to say how or why it is so definitely High
+Victorian, and rather a masterpiece of the High Victorian at that. Wallot in Berlin in
+the eighties approached Brodrick’s mode of design in the Reichstag but had little of his
+command of scale or his almost Romantic Classical control of mass.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When Brodrick designed his town hall very little was known in England of Visconti’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>project of 1852 for the New Louvre, and Lefuel had not yet begun to elaborate the design.
+So vigorously individual an architect as Brodrick was hardly likely, moreover, to
+find inspiration in the Hope house of Dusillion or the Hardwicks’ Great Western Hotel.
+But the wave of Second Empire influence arrived in England well before the Leeds
+Town Hall was finished. When the English swarmed to Paris to visit the International
+Exhibition of 1855 the character of the New Louvre became generally known to architects
+and to the interested public. The Crimean War in the mid fifties served, moreover,
+to bring English and French officialdom into close contact. To English ministers and
+civil servants, even more than to architects and ordinary citizens, the existing governmental
+accommodations in Whitehall contrasted most unfavourably with those Napoleon
+III was providing in the New Louvre. When a competition was held in 1856-7 for
+a new Foreign Office and a new War Office to be built in Whitehall, it is not surprising
+that most of those entrants who were not convinced Gothicists should have modelled
+their projects more or less on the work of Visconti and Lefuel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Barry, the head of the profession, did not enter the competition; but unofficially—for
+he was still an employee of the Government at the Houses of Parliament—he prepared
+at this time a comprehensive scheme for the development of the whole length of Whitehall
+from Parliament Square to Trafalgar Square. In this project he crowned all his
+façades—including that of his already executed Treasury—with mansards, introduced
+stepped-back courts like that of the New Louvre, and marked the corners and the centres
+of the court façades in the most Louvre-like way with pavilions crowned by still taller
+mansards. Had this project of Barry’s been followed, London would rival Paris and
+Vienna in the extent, the consistency, and the boldness of her public buildings of this
+period. In fact, practically nothing ever came of it nor, indeed, of the official competition;
+for by this period earlier traditions of urbanism had all but completely died out
+and architectural initiative was largely in private hands.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When the competition was judged in 1857, the designs that received the top prizes
+both for the War Office and for the Foreign Office were in the pavilioned and mansarded
+manner; they derived, however, at least as much from the Tuileries as from the
+New Louvre. It was the rising prestige of Napoleon III, of course, that called public
+attention at this time to the Tuileries which was his residence—as it had been, for that
+matter, the residence of earlier nineteenth-century French monarchs. Otherwise no one
+in England would probably have thought of reviving any of the various periods,
+covering some four centuries, represented in its conglomerate mass or of emulating its
+pavilioned and mansarded composition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since neither of these projects for ministries was ever executed, and their respective
+architects—Henry B. Garling (1821-1909), on the one hand, and H. E. Coe (1826-85)
+and his partner Hofland, on the other—never built much else of consequence, it is not
+necessary to linger over them. However, their designs and other Second Empire ones
+that received minor premiums were extensively illustrated in professional and general
+periodicals, and they provided favourite models in the sixties both in England and in the
+United States. The Paris originals, on which graphic data was not only scarcer but also
+less readily accessible, were not on the whole so influential. This helps to explain why
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>French influence <i>appears</i> to have been stronger in the Anglo-Saxon world than on the
+Continent, even though there was probably less direct contact with Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was also in England at this time a general tendency, even more notable than in
+Austria or Germany, to enrich and elaborate plastically the long-established Renaissance
+Revival mode. This is less specifically inspired by Paris. An excellent example is provided
+by the extensive range of terraces, designed by Sancton Wood (1814-86) in
+1857, that flank Lancaster Gate in the Bayswater Road in London with their boldly projecting
+bay windows linked by tiers of colonnades. In other examples, such as the
+National Discount Company’s offices at 65 Cornhill built by the Francis Brothers in
+1857, the capping of the whole block with a boldly dormered mansard<a id="r206"></a><a href='#f206' class='c025'><sup>[206]</sup></a> is more
+obviously of Second Empire inspiration, though the façades below are merely of a much
+enriched <i>palazzo</i> order.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When the Moseley Brothers designed in 1858 the vast Westminster Palace Hotel
+near Westminster Abbey at the foot of Victoria Street, a caravanserai intended to exceed
+the Hardwicks’ Great Western Hotel of 1850-2 in international luxury, they took over
+its pavilioned and mansarded design. To judge from the relative dignity and sobriety
+of their detailing, they would seem to have studied contemporary Parisian work—not
+the New Louvre but the quieter <i>maisons de rapport</i> along the boulevards—rather than
+merely basing themselves on the prize-winning Government Offices projects as so many
+others were content to do at this time. This hotel, which proved a failure, now serves
+as a block of offices, and has been remodelled almost beyond recognition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next year Barry designed the Halifax Town Hall, his last work. He did not himself
+propose to cap this, like the Government Offices in his Whitehall scheme, with
+French mansards; those that were executed are an emendation by his son, E. M. Barry,
+who carried the building to completion in 1862 after his father’s death in 1860. But the
+richly arcaded articulation of the walls and the emphatic forward breaks of the great
+tower and of the more modest pavilion at the other end clearly emulate, without directly
+imitating, the sumptuous plasticity of the New Louvre. Nevertheless, the boldly asymmetrical
+composition, dominated by a single corner tower, is more in the Italian Villa
+vein (Plate <a href='#pl078b'>78<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This tower—but not the site—was lined up with the axis of Prince’s Street, which
+enters Crossley Street at this point. The assured quality of its design and above all that of
+its tremendous spire, more than worthy of Wren in the ingenuity with which the silhouette
+of a Gothic steeple was built up out of Renaissance elements, makes the Halifax
+Town Hall thoroughly English and one of the masterpieces of the High Victorian period.
+Totally devoid of Gothic elements, it has more Gothic vitality than Barry’s Houses of
+Parliament, at this time just approaching completion nearly thirty years after they were
+first designed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>E. M. Barry went on to crown two London station hotels, that at Charing Cross in
+1863-4 and that at Cannon Street in 1865-6, with mansards; but these were far from being
+masterpieces, and that at Charing Cross has lately been much modified. The Grosvenor
+Hotel, built beside the new Victoria Station in 1859-60 by Sir James T. Knowles
+(1831-1908), is far more original. He covered the whole enormous mass with a very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>tall convex mansard, giving further emphasis to the broad pavilions at the ends by
+carrying their roofs still higher and capping them with lanterns. Beyond this nothing
+was French. The detail indeed, defined by its architect as ‘Tuscan’, i.e. <i>Rundbogenstil</i>,
+is highly individual, partaking of the coarse gusto and even somewhat of the naturalism
+of the most advanced Victorian Gothic foliage carving of the period (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Similar mansards, but flat-sided not bulbous, and similar detail characterize a pair of
+tall terraces that Knowles built in 1860 on the north side of Clapham Common, south
+of London. These constituted a subtle suburban attack on Early Victorian traditions
+of terrace-design that soon had metropolitan repercussions. His Thatched House Club
+in St James’s Street in London of 1865 has a great deal of very rich carving by J. Daymond
+in the naturalistic vein, but is less interesting in general composition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Knowles’s Grosvenor was still new when John Giles outbid it with the Langham Hotel,
+begun in 1864. Given a much finer site than Knowles’s at the base of the broad avenue
+of Portland Place across from Nash’s All Souls’, Langham Place, Giles rose boldly—most
+people now think too boldly—to the occasion (Plate <a href='#pl080a'>80<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Certainly he overwhelmed
+Nash’s delicate and ingenious steeple by the rounded projection and the tall
+square corner tower—now bombed away at the top—with which he faced it. Equally
+certainly his massive north façade, with its boldly modelled flanking pavilions and its
+profusion of lively animal carvings, would overwhelm the urbane refinement of the
+nearby Adam terraces flanking Portland Place had these not by now been replaced by
+far inferior buildings. For all its gargantuan scale and the somewhat elephantine playfulness
+of the detail (not to speak of the dinginess to which the ‘Suffolk-white’ brickwork
+and the stone trim have now been reduced), the Langham is a rich and powerfully
+plastic composition, most skilfully adapted to a special site, and more original than most
+of what was produced in the sixties in Paris. The carved animals at the window heads,
+so varied and so humorous, deserve an attention they rarely receive; these scurrying
+creatures almost seem to come out of Tenniel, but may actually derive from Viollet-le-Duc.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>That this degree of architectural originality, presented with such bold assurance and
+even bombast, should within a decade or two have come to seem tasteless and actually
+ugly—as, indeed, it has seemed to many ever since—is not of major historical consequence.
+The age that achieved it rejected as tasteless and insipid the architectural production
+of the previous hundred years, and most notably Late Georgian work of the
+sort to which the Langham stood in close proximity. What <i>is</i> of consequence is that
+such High Victorian buildings, even when not Gothic, possessed a vitality and a contemporaneity
+within their period that was very largely lacking in parallel work on the
+Continent, most of which in any case is a decade or more later in date. In their parvenu
+brashness, the Grosvenor and Langham balance the contemporary achievement of the
+Gothic church architects—an achievement generally more acceptable even today as it
+was already to highbrows and aesthetics in the sixties—without necessarily equalling it
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the English hotel boom of the early and mid sixties which these big London hotels
+set off, some variant of the anglicized Second Empire became the accepted type of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>design; indeed, a mansarded French mode continued to be used as late as the nineties<a id="r207"></a><a href='#f207' class='c025'><sup>[207]</sup></a>
+for such a big London hotel as the Carlton built by H. L. Florence (1843-1916) in
+1897. Many heavily mansarded London hotels of the seventies and eighties are now
+gone or have been turned, like the earlier Westminster Palace and the Langham, to other
+uses—among these the former Grand Hotel in Trafalgar Square of 1878-80 by H.
+Francis and the front block of the former Cecil in the Strand built in 1886 by Perry
+&amp; Reed may at least be noted here, since they remain so conspicuous and are so exasperatingly
+unavailable to travellers.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is a resort hotel, however, the Cliff (now the Grand) at Scarborough in Yorkshire,
+built by Brodrick at the height of the boom in 1863-7, just before he retired to live in
+France, that remains internationally the most notable example of the type
+(Plate <a href='#pl079'>79</a>).
+And the type could be found in such remote spots as the famous ‘ghost town’ of the
+Comstock Lode, Virginia City, Nevada, where the large and elaborate hotel is no
+more, or Leadville, Colorado, where the more modest and much later Vendome
+Hotel, built by Senator Tabor for his ‘Baby Doe’, is still in use, as well as in big European
+cities such as Amsterdam, Frankfort, Brussels, and Budapest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The site of Brodrick’s Grand Hotel is a superb one on the edge of the Scarborough
+cliffs above the North Sea, as different as possible from the setting of the New Louvre.
+Its corner pavilions are capped, not with ordinary high mansards, but with curious roofs
+like pointed domes, richly crowned with elaborate cornices. In the intricacy of their
+silhouette these are not unworthy rivals of Barry’s Halifax tower. The massive walls
+are not of freestone in the manner of Paris nor yet of pallid Suffolk brick with light
+coloured stone or cement trim as in London. Instead, they are of warm red brick with
+incredibly lush decorative trim of tawny terracotta—a combination that M. D. Wyatt
+also used on the most elegant Second Empire mansion in London, Alford House, which
+stood from 1872 until 1955 in Prince’s Gate at the corner of Ennismore Gardens
+(Plate <a href='#pl083a'>83<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Public and private architecture could hardly hope to rival the sumptuousness of the
+new hotels, and in Britain rarely attempted to do so. At Liverpool T. H. Wyatt in
+1864-9 carried a
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+range of ornately pavilioned and mansarded blocks that
+housed the Exchange around the open space at the rear of the Town Hall, somewhat
+as Outshoorn carried his Galerij around the Paleis voor Volksvlijt in Amsterdam; but
+that is now all gone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the English countryside, the Bowes Museum at Barnard Castle in County Durham,
+built in 1869-75 by J.-A.-F.-A. Pellechet (1829-1903), and Waddesdon Manor
+in Buckinghamshire by another French architect, G.-H. Destailleur (1822-93), largely
+of 1880-3, are unique examples of extensive mansions completely in the Second Empire
+mode (Plate <a href='#pl076b'>76<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In London Montagu House, designed in 1866 by the elderly Burn for
+the Duke of Buccleuch, once raised in Whitehall the mansarded pavilions that Barry
+and the winners of the Government Offices competition had proposed in 1857, but
+this has now been demolished.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most notable Second Empire ensemble in London, however, still partly survives
+(Plate <a href='#pl080b'>80<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Facing the gardens of Buckingham Palace and extending southward
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>from the group of Late Georgian monuments around Hyde Park Corner, are the terraces
+of Grosvenor Place. These were designed<a id="r208"></a><a href='#f208' class='c025'><sup>[208]</sup></a> in 1867 and built in the following years.
+They provide one of the more striking features of the London skyline inherited from
+the Victorian period. Rivalling the high roofs and, almost, the tall steeples of the
+Victorian Gothic, the mansards over the end houses are carried to fantastic heights and
+capped with pointed upper roofs, providing several storeys of attics; while the centre
+houses have convex mansards like square domes taken straight from the New Louvre.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Below these Alpine crests, elaborated at the base with rich stone dormers, the enormous
+houses are all of fine Portland stone—hardly to be found in any earlier nineteenth-century
+London terraces except those of Ennismore Gardens—and detailed with a
+plausibly Parisian flair—it is even said that draughtsmen were sent to Paris to study
+Second Empire work at first hand. English are the porches, however, which make plain
+that these pretentious ranges are rows of dwellings like those in nearby Belgrave
+Square. English, also, are the red stone bands, novel touches echoing the fashionable
+‘structural polychrome’ of the contemporary Victorian Gothic, just as the tall mansards
+echo its pointed roofs (see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Beyond the first two blocks of Grosvenor Place the new construction of the sixties
+stops; but it starts again at the farther end and surrounds the two triangles of Grosvenor
+Gardens, of which Knowles’s hotel occupies part of the farther side. It is characteristic
+of the Parisian inspiration of the whole that on the east side of the Gardens great blocks
+of flats—’mansions’ in a Victorian euphemism—replaced the usual London terraces of
+individual tall houses, but these now serve as offices as do all the extant houses in Grosvenor
+Place. For one of these blocks red brick was used, but set like a mere panel-filling
+within stone frames according to a French rather than an English tradition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There are no other comparably pretentious examples of Second Empire terraces in
+London except Cambridge Gate (1875) by Thomas Archer and A. Green (?-1904), an unhappy
+intrusion among Nash’s stuccoed Regent’s Park ranges despite its handsome execution
+in fine ashlar of Bath stone. Characteristically, London domestic architecture of the
+late fifties and sixties merely elaborated the Renaissance Revival formulas of the previous
+decade. Not only were the chosen models generally later and richer as in Vienna;
+wherever possible bolder plastic effects were achieved by a more extensive use of ground-storey
+colonnades, first-storey porches, and projecting bay windows, as on Wood’s
+magniloquent terraces at Lancaster Gate or those of 1858 by C. J. Richardson (1800-72)
+that followed them in Queen’s Gate.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The high standards of the earlier period were maintained only in business <i>palazzi</i>,
+not those of London’s City, but those in big Northern towns like Bradford and in Scotland.
+There good freestone was readily available and a certain cultural lag, as well as a
+regional sobriety of temperament, led to the maintenance of a more Barry-like tradition.
+Notable everywhere for their academic virtues are the various National Provincial Bank
+buildings by Barry’s pupil John Gibson (1819-92). The earliest, but not the most
+typical, is the head office in Bishopsgate, which was begun in 1863.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A special school of Renaissance design is associated with Sir Henry Cole’s Department
+of Practical Art, and this produced the various buildings that he sponsored in the new
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>London cultural centre in Brompton (now usually called South Kensington). The Exhibition
+of 1862, on the southern edge of the estate belonging to the Commissioners of
+the Great Exhibition, was housed in a structure designed by Francis Fowke (1823-65),
+an army engineer. As at the Paris Exhibition of 1855, the metal and glass construction of
+this was masked externally with masonry walls, but, unlike Cendrier’s and Viel’s Palais
+de l’Industrie, the whole was pavilioned and mansarded in the Second Empire mode.
+A still more elaborate Second Empire project was prepared by Fowke for the Museum
+of Science and Art (later Victoria and Albert), Cole having evidently accepted all too
+abjectly the criticism of his earlier temporary structure, the notorious ‘Brompton
+Boilers’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). As Fowke died at this point the Museum (Plate <a href='#pl083b'>83<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), begun in
+1866, as also the associated Royal College of Science (Huxley Building), built in
+1868-71, were carried out in a much less French vein under another army engineer,
+H. G. D. Scott (1822-83). The walling material is a fine smooth red brick, very rare in
+the London of the nineteenth century, beautifully laid up with thin joints. With this is
+combined an enormous quantity of elaborately modelled pale cream terracotta, as on
+various Central European buildings deriving from Schinkel’s Bauakademie in Berlin of
+1831-6.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In these South Kensington structures, planned by an engineer, the emphasis is on the
+sculptural embellishment designed and executed by Godfrey Sykes and other artists
+associated with the Department. This team-work, by-passing as it did over-all control by
+an architect, was not very successful in achieving the coherence of Knowles’s and Giles’s
+hotels, although those were built for much less sophisticated clients. Much the same
+team, but with still more sculptors collaborating, was responsible for the Albert Hall,
+the vast circular auditorium built in 1867-71 on the northern edge of the Commissioners’
+Estate facing the most characteristic monument of the age, G. G. Scott’s Victorian
+Gothic Albert Memorial. The engineer Scott’s really notable achievement here in
+the metal construction of the vast dome is unfortunately swamped by the profuse investiture
+of sculptural detail in terracotta, intrinsically elegant though much of that is.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the sixties there was some coherence in the planning of the Commissioners’ Estate
+as a whole, with a garden court surrounded by a great hemicycle of terracotta arcading
+by M. D. Wyatt lying behind the 1862 Exhibition Building and below the Albert Hall.
+In Vienna the cultural edifices were admirably grouped along the Ringstrasse with
+plenty of open space between them, however much they may have lacked intrinsic
+architectural quality. In sad contrast is the way the following decades allowed this considerable
+tract to become clogged up until almost no urbanistic organization at all
+remains.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Other European countries tended in this period, like Denmark, Sweden, and Holland,
+to follow Paris and Vienna rather than London. Only a few works of the sixties and
+seventies need be singled out from the welter of pretentious public and private construction
+that turned Brussels, for example, into a ‘Little Paris’.<a id="r209"></a><a href='#f209' class='c025'><sup>[209]</sup></a> The Boulevard Anspach as a
+whole suggests the Cannebière in Marseilles, although the mansards on the buildings
+that line it are more plastically handled; the Exchange, in its own square half-way down
+the boulevard, was built by L.-P. Suys (1823-87) in 1868-73, and this provides the focus
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>of the mid-nineteenth-century city, as does Garnier’s Opéra in Paris. A provincial
+variant of the Opéra in many ways, despite its quite different function, this is somewhat
+more academic in composition yet also rather coarser in its profuse ornamentation.
+Brussels as a whole is dominated, however, by one of the grandest and most original
+monuments erected anywhere in this period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Palace of Justice,<a id="r210"></a><a href='#f210' class='c025'><sup>[210]</sup></a> built by Joseph Poelaert (1817-79) in 1866-83, occupies so high a
+site and is mounted on so mountainous a substructure that almost the whole of its gargantuan
+mass is visible from all over the city. Although generically Classical, a good deal
+of the external treatment has an indefinable flavour of the monuments of the ancient
+civilizations of the East, somewhat like that of the exotic churches Alexander Thomson
+built in the late fifties and sixties in Glasgow (Plate <a href='#pl081'>81</a>). Even more than Thomson’s
+relatively small and delicately scaled work, the Palace of Justice also suggests the megalomaniac
+architectural dreams of such a Romantic English painter as John Martin. Heavy
+and almost literally cruel, it has a Piranesian spatial elaboration and a plastic vitality of
+the most exaggeratedly architectonic order. Thus it quite puts to shame the urbane
+Renaissance costuming of most Continental public architecture of this period and the
+usual Neo-Baroque of the next.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The existence of this extraordinary edifice in a minor European capital prepares one a
+little for the important part that Brussels was to play in the nineties, even though there
+could hardly be two architects further apart in spirit than Poelaert and Victor Horta,
+who initiated there the Art Nouveau (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). So also in Glasgow, the originality
+of Thomson’s Queen’s Park Church of the sixties at least opened the way for the
+notable international contribution to be made by the Glaswegian C. R. Mackintosh in
+the nineties. But it was Alphonse Balat (1818-95), not Poelaert, who was Horta’s master
+and also in these decades professor of architecture at the local Academy. Balat’s Musée
+Royale des Beaux Arts of 1875-81 already represents a reversion to a more restrained
+and academic classicism with none of Poelaert’s force and vitality. Yet this building is
+not without a certain correct elegance of detail and conventional skill in composition
+for which his houses of the sixties, with their Barry-like handling of the High Renaissance
+<i>palazzo</i> theme, prepared the way. The real eclecticism of this period lies less significantly
+in the variety of nominal styles employed than in the variety of ways of employing
+them. It is this, rather than the concurrent multiplication of fashionable modes, that
+makes it so difficult to characterize broadly the production of the period between the
+mid century and the nineties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In several other European countries the situation was made even more complicated
+than in Belgium by a very considerable cultural lag such as has already been noted in
+Scandinavia. While the Rütschi-Bleuler House in Zurich of 1869-70 by Theodor Geiger
+(1832-82) had the fashionable Second Empire mansard, here high and concave, at nearby
+Winterthur Semper’s Town Hall of precisely the same date, with its dominating temple
+portico, might at first sight be taken for a provincial French public edifice of the second
+quarter of the century. At the Zurich Polytechnic School, where Semper became a professor
+in 1855,<a id="r211"></a><a href='#f211' class='c025'><sup>[211]</sup></a> the large building begun in 1859 that he erected with the local architect
+Wolff is equally retardataire in style. His Observatory there of 1861-4 is a delicate and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>rather picturesquely composed exercise in the <i>quattrocento</i> version of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>,
+rather like his Hamburg houses of twenty years earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If a German architect of established international reputation could be thus affected by
+the conservative tastes of his Swiss clients, it is not surprising that in the Iberian peninsula
+almost nothing of interest was built in this period. It may, however, be mentioned
+that the building for the National Library and Museums in Madrid, designed in 1866
+by Francisco Jareño y Alarcón (1818-92) and almost thirty years in construction, while
+still of the most conventional Classical character as regards its façades, has convex mansards
+over the end pavilions of quite definitely Second Empire character. Characteristically,
+the Chamber of Commerce in Madrid, completed in 1893 by E. M. Repulles y
+Vargas (1845-1922), illustrates the general return of official architecture to still more
+conventional academic standards towards the end of the century. But in the seventies
+there began in Barcelona the career of a Spanish—or more accurately Catalan—architect,
+Antoni Gaudí, who was destined to produce around 1900 some of the boldest and most
+original early works of modern architecture. Gaudí’s real links in the seventies and
+eighties, spiritually if not so much actually, are with the High Victorian Gothic not the
+Second Empire, although the earliest project on which he worked reflected the Palais
+Longchamps at Marseilles (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The situation in the United States was naturally most like that in England. As has
+already been noted, a French-trained Danish architect, Lienau, prefigured the Second
+Empire mode in the Shiff house in New York as early as 1849-50. By the mid fifties
+mansards of rather modest height, often with shallow concave slopes, had appeared in
+Eastern cities on many houses not otherwise particularly Frenchified. Richard M. Hunt
+(1827-95),<a id="r212"></a><a href='#f212' class='c025'><sup>[212]</sup></a> the first American to study at the École des Beaux-Arts and actually an
+assistant as well as a pupil of Lefuel, returned from Paris to America in 1855. But he
+brought with him no lush Second Empire mode but rather the basic academic tradition of
+the French official world, despite the fact that he had himself worked in 1854 on the
+New Louvre. Although some of the earliest work of H. H. Richardson, who returned
+from Paris a decade later after working for several years for Labrouste’s brother
+Théodore, was of Second Empire character, he showed himself from the
+first more responsive to influences from contemporary England
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch11'>11</a> and <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). On the whole, the Second Empire
+mode, as it was practised in America through the third quarter of the
+century, derived almost as completely as the local Victorian Gothic
+from England. Most American architects were kept informed of what was
+going on abroad through the English professional Press, and so they
+naturally followed the models that were offered in the <i>Builder</i>
+and the <i>Building News</i> rather than those in the publications of
+César Daly.<a id="r213"></a><a href='#f213' class='c025'><sup>[213]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Civil War of 1861-5 did not bring architectural production to a stop; indeed, it
+seems to have had a less inhibiting effect than the aftermath of the financial crash of 1857
+in the immediately preceding years. In Washington the building of Walter’s new wings
+of the Capitol, initiated in 1851,<a id="r214"></a><a href='#f214' class='c025'><sup>[214]</sup></a> and of his cast-iron dome, designed in 1855, continued
+until their completion in 1865, right through the war years at President Lincoln’s
+express order (Plate <a href='#pl082a'>82<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). There is nothing specifically French about this new work at
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>the Capitol, even though Walter had the assistance from 1855 of the
+Paris-trained Hunt. On the other hand, the original more-or-less
+Romantic Classical edifice that had finally been brought to completion
+in 1828 by Bulfinch after so many changes of architect was largely
+submerged. The new wings echo in their academic porticoes the broader
+portico of the original late eighteenth-century design; but the
+cast-iron dome (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>), rivalling in size the largest Baroque
+domes of Europe, has a high drum and a Michelangelesque silhouette of
+the greatest boldness in contrast to the Roman saucer shape of that
+designed by Latrobe and not much raised in execution by Bulfinch.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not in Washington that the Second Empire mode was first
+introduced for public buildings; Washington, indeed, would never again
+be the centre of architectural influence that it was in the Romantic
+Classical period, although the new state capitols begun in the sixties
+and seventies were mostly capped with imitations of Walter’s dome. A
+‘female seminary’ on the Hudson River, endowed by a brewer, and the
+new City Hall in Boston, Mass., both dating from the opening of the
+sixties, are the first monumental instances of the new mode that
+dominated the field of secular public building until the financial
+Panic of 1873 brought the post-war boom to a close. James Renwick,<a id="r215"></a><a href='#f215' class='c025'><sup>[215]</sup></a>
+who designed the very extensive Main Hall for Matthew Vassar’s new
+college at Arlington near Poughkeepsie, N.Y., in 1860, was
+specifically instructed by his client to imitate the Tuileries—not the
+New Louvre—and so he did in an elaborately pavilioned composition of
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+plan crowned by various sorts of
+high mansards. This overshadows in significance his earlier Charity
+Hospital of 1858 on Blackwell’s Island in New York, already mansarded
+but very plain, and his Corcoran Gallery of 1859, now the Court of
+Claims, in Washington, with a rich but muddled façade still rather
+flatly conceived.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Renwick was at least as eclectic as such Europeans as Ballu and
+Ferstel. Having made his first reputation with the building of the
+Anglican Grace Church in New York in 1843-6—if not very Camdenian,
+this is at least a fair specimen of revived fourteenth-century English
+Gothic—he continued in the Gothic line with the Catholic St Patrick’s
+Cathedral in New York, begun in 1859 and completed (except for the
+spires) in 1879. That vast two-towered pile, however, is Gothic in a
+very Continental way, resembling Gau’s and Ballu’s Sainte-Clotilde in
+Paris and Ferstel’s Votivkirche in Vienna more than anything English
+of the period. In the late forties Renwick had also been the agent of
+Robert Dale Owen’s ‘Romanesque Revival’ aspirations in designing the
+Smithsonian Institution in Washington (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For such things as the Smithsonian and his churches Renwick had plenty of visual
+documents on which to lean, either archaeological treatises on the buildings of the
+medieval past or illustrations of contemporary foreign work. But for Vassar College,
+very evidently, he was dependent for his inspiration on rather generalized lithographic
+or engraved views of the Tuileries. Nor could he, at this relatively early date, borrow
+much from published illustrations of contemporary English work in the new international
+Second Empire mode. The particular plastic vitality of the Americanized
+Second Empire is already notable in this early example, however, even though the rather
+crude articulation of the red brick walls is remote from anything French of any period
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>from the sixteenth century to the nineteenth. Later buildings by Renwick in the same
+mode are richer and closer to Parisian standards, but their architectonic vitality is considerably
+less.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Boston City Hall,<a id="r216"></a><a href='#f216' class='c025'><sup>[216]</sup></a> built by G. J. F. Bryant (1816-99) and Arthur D. Gilman
+(1821-82) in 1862-5, is a smaller but suaver edifice. Although it is a compactly planned
+block, the articulation of the walls by successive Roman-arched orders, coldly but competently
+executed in stone, is boldly plastic below the crowning mansards. However,
+just before this, for the Arlington Street Church of 1859-61, the first edifice erected in
+the Back Bay district that Gilman was just laying out,<a id="r217"></a><a href='#f217' class='c025'><sup>[217]</sup></a> he had turned not to France but
+to eighteenth-century England for inspiration, basing himself chiefly on the same
+churches by Gibbs that had been the most popular American models in later Colonial
+times.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A leading opponent of the Greek Revival, Gilman, like most Continental architects
+of the day, evidently knew better what he meant to leave behind than whither he wished
+to proceed. His Boston church initiated no national wave of Gibbsian church architecture;
+indeed, the sixties were the heyday of Victorian Gothic design for churches in
+the United States. His City Hall, on the other hand, set off a nation-wide programme of
+public building in the Second Empire mode; for Boston was now for a score of years
+the artistic as well as the intellectual headquarters of the country in succession to Philadelphia.
+In this programme municipalities, state authorities, and the Federal Government
+all participated actively during the decade following the Civil War. In the case
+of many Federal buildings, only nominally the work of the office of the Supervising
+Architect, where A. B. Mullet (1834-90) succeeded Rogers in 1865, Gilman acted in
+these years as consultant, and was probably the real designer rather than Mullet or his
+assistants.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These vast monuments were mostly constructed during General Grant’s presidency.
+Parisian in intention, yet American in their materials, they are withal rather similar to
+Second Empire work in England. Few were completed before the mode went out of
+favour as changes in architectural control sometimes make evident. In the case of the
+New York State Capitol in Albany, for example, begun in 1868 by Thomas Fuller
+(1822-98) and his partner Augustus Laver (1834-98), both arriving from England via
+Canada, Eidlitz and Richardson took over jointly in 1875, modifying the design of the
+building very notably above the lower storeys towards the Romanesquoid. Thus it was
+finally brought to completion by them and others in the following twenty years. The
+very tall tower on the Philadelphia City Hall, begun in 1874, was finished over a
+decade later. This tower, whose crowning statue of William Penn still tops the local
+skyline, has hardly anything in common with the Louvre-like pavilions below; yet the
+whole is nominally the work of one architect, John McArthur, Jr (1823-90), the grandfather
+of General Douglas McArthur.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Undoubtedly the association of these prominent buildings with the unsavoury Grant
+administration and the fact that there were—at least in the two cases mentioned above—major
+financial scandals involved in their slow and incredibly costly construction played
+an important part in the early rejection of a mode so associated with the public vices
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>of the decade after the Civil War. Not many of them are extant today other than the
+Boston, Albany, and Philadelphia structures just mentioned and the old State Department
+Building in Washington (Plate <a href='#pl082b'>82<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In New York, Boston, and other large cities the vast granite piles in this mode that
+long served as post offices are all gone. In Chicago the Cook County Buildings built by
+J. J. Egan in 1872-5 have also long since been replaced. In San Francisco Fuller &amp; Laver’s
+extensive group of Municipal Buildings was destroyed in the fire that followed the
+earthquake of 1906. This must have been the largest, the richest, and plastically the most
+complex production of the whole lot, with its triangular site, boldly articulated massing,
+and central dome.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Though threatened by every new administration, the State, War and Navy Department
+Building built by Mullet in 1871-5 still stands, overshadowing the nearby
+White House. This is perhaps the best extant example in America of the Second Empire—or
+as it is sometimes called locally, the ‘General Grant’—mode
+(Plate <a href='#pl082b'>82<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The tiers of
+Roman-arched orders in fine grey granite, borrowed by Gilman as consultant architect
+and presumptive designer from his earlier Boston City Hall rather than from Paris,
+tower up storey above storey to carry mansards of various different heights above the
+complex pavilioned plan. Cold and grand, almost without sculptural decoration, this
+could hardly be less like the New Louvre or the old Tuileries in general texture; nor is
+there any of the playful semi-Gothic detail of Knowles’s and Giles’s London hotels or of
+the festive colouring and lush ornamentation of Brodrick’s at Scarborough.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The contrast of the old State Department Building with its <i>pendant</i> on the other side
+of Lafayette Square, Mills’s Grecian Treasury, finally completed by Rogers a decade
+earlier, is shocking to most people. Yet it is fascinating to read here the representational
+aspirations of an age that found its most significant expression, not in its public buildings,
+but in the new skyscrapers which first rose in New York at just this time, Hunt’s
+Tribune Building and the Western Union Building by his pupil George B. Post. Both,
+incidentally, were heavily mansarded, and the one by the American-trained Post was
+much more typically Second Empire than is the French-trained Hunt’s (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In urban domestic architecture, both on large mansions and on the more usual terrace
+houses, mansards became characteristic but not ubiquitous in the late fifties and remained
+so down to the mid seventies and even later in the West. Boston’s Back Bay
+district, laid out by Gilman in 1859, has a few mansions along Commonwealth Avenue
+that resemble somewhat the <i>hôtels particuliers</i> of Paris, and also several mansarded
+terraces by Bryant &amp; Gilman and other architects in that avenue and in Arlington and
+Beacon Streets. The materials used are un-Parisian—brownstone like Gilman’s nearby
+church or dark-red brick with brownstone trim—and the detail is rarely very plausibly
+French. In general, inspiration still came from London, even if nothing so extensive and
+spectacularly monumental as Grosvenor Place and Grosvenor Gardens was ever produced.
+In New York Lienau’s finest terrace, that built in Fifth Avenue between 55th and
+56th Streets in 1869, was rather more sumptuous than the Boston examples, being of
+white marble with very literate ranges of superposed orders. Hunt’s New York work
+was often so authentically Parisian as quite to lack the bombast of the international
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>Second Empire mode. Especially interesting were his Stuyvesant Flats in 18th Street, New
+York, of 1869-70. This block was a very early example of an apartment house of the
+Parisian sort in America, where they did not generally flourish much before the
+late eighties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For the more characteristic free-standing houses that were built outside cities, in
+suburbs, in towns, and even in the country, the Second Empire mode was also very
+popular. Interpreted in wood, painted brown or grey stone colours, these have a distinctly
+autochthonous character. Generally symmetrical and tightly planned, they did
+not advance the development of the American house in the way of the rival ‘Stick
+Style’; but in their emphasis on complicated three-dimensional modelling, especially the
+modelling of the roofs, they prepared the way for one important aspect of the later and
+more original ‘Shingle Style’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Second Empire episode in the United States is a curious one. On the one hand, it
+was a consciously ‘modern’ movement, deriving its prestige from contemporary Paris,
+not from any period of the past like the Greek, the Gothic, or even the Renaissance
+Revivals—of which last, of course, it was in some limited sense an heir. On the other
+hand, the considerable originality of the mode as it was actually employed was largely
+unconscious and due to the lack of accurate visual documents, or even a codified body
+of precedent, to be followed. At this time contemporary conditions demanded, as in
+Europe, the construction of many public edifices, Federal, state, and municipal, to house
+a complexity of functions. It would have been almost impossible to compress these
+within the rigid rectangles of the Greek Revival even had the Greek Revival not already
+been rejected by most critics twenty years or more earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet the Second Empire episode was necessarily brief, lasting little more than a decade.
+The crass assurance it reflected, particularly the special arrogance of the post-war
+politicians in Washington, the state capitals, and in the bigger cities, was much shaken
+by the Panic of 1873. The mode did not therefore, as in much of Europe, continue in
+America into the eighties and nineties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The episode has a longer-term significance, nevertheless. Slight as was the actual
+relationship to the Second Empire mode of the first two Americans to be trained at the
+École des Beaux Arts, Hunt and Richardson, their personal influence and their prestige
+encouraged a growing trek of architectural students to Paris; their recommendations
+alone would hardly have had much effect had not fashion already established Paris
+rather than London in the public mind as the centre of modern architectural achievement
+and inspiration. From the mid eighties on, the long-maintained dependence on
+England in architectural matters began to be notably weakened; for a generation and
+more very many American architects would seek their roots abroad, but henceforth in
+France, or even Italy, not England.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is not surprising that in the British Dominions there was no such direct French influence
+in this period as in Latin America. Urban entities like the Colmena and its terminal
+square in Lima, Peru, pavilioned and mansarded throughout, rival European
+examples like the Søtorvet in Copenhagen or the Galerij in Amsterdam. Before they
+gave way to skyscrapers, the <i>hôtels particuliers</i> along the Paseo de la Reforma in Mexico
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>City were more numerous and more plausibly Parisian than along Commonwealth
+Avenue in Boston or Bellevue Avenue at Newport. But both in Canada and in Australia
+the Second Empire mode arrived from England late and in a more corrupted form than
+in America. The mansarded Windsor Hotel of 1878 in Montreal hardly rivalled the
+Palmer House of 1872 in Chicago by J. M. Van Osdel (1811-91), to which the rich merchant
+Potter Palmer was as proud to give his name as to the incredible fake castle that he
+built for his own occupancy a decade later. The Princess Theatre in Melbourne, Australia,
+built by William Pitt in 1877, with its three square-domed mansards, has an appealing
+nonchalance, like that of the contemporary edifices of the mining towns high in the
+American Rocky Mountains—the hotel in Virginia City, Nevada, that has been mentioned
+earlier, or the much more modest Opera House in Central City, Colorado, for
+example. But the public architecture of the third quarter of the century in Australia was
+more restrained in design just because it was generally so very retardataire.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Parliament House in Melbourne, begun in 1856 by John G. Knight (1824-92)
+and completed in 1880 by Peter Kerr (1820-1912), has academic virtues not unworthy
+of Kerr’s master Barry, though its giant colonnades recall rather those of Brodrick’s
+contemporary Town Hall in Leeds. The Treasury Buildings in Melbourne, by John
+James Clark (1838-1915) of 1857-8, are not unworthy of comparison with High
+Renaissance work of the period on the Continent. Other public buildings of the sixties
+and seventies are of more definitely Victorian character, but Early Victorian rather than
+High. For example, Clark’s Government House of 1872-6 in South Melbourne is a
+towered Italian Villa consciously modelled on Queen Victoria’s Osborne House of a
+generation earlier. Both in Australia and in Canada the Victorian Gothic had more
+vitality in this period (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is little profit in pursuing farther in the outlying areas of the western world
+evidence of direct influence from Paris (of which there is, for example, some in
+Russia) or autochthonous variants of the Second Empire mode. In this generally rather
+unrewarding period the best work mostly falls under the High Victorian Gothic rubric,
+or else it illustrates specifically the development of commercial and domestic architecture
+in the Anglo-American world (see Chapters <a href='#ch18'>10</a> and <a href='#ch11'>11</a>; <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).
+In an attempt to give an over-all picture too many buildings of low
+intrinsic quality and little present-day interest have already been
+cited.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What makes especially difficult the proper historical assessment of the widespread influence
+of Paris in the decades following 1850 is that this influence, whether direct or
+indirect, rarely produced buildings on the Continent of real distinction or even of
+much vitality. Only in England and the United States, where the mode was quite reshaped
+by a different cultural situation and the bold use of local materials, is it of much
+independent interest. The more plausibly Parisian the work outside France, the less
+vigour it usually possesses. Some of it can be very plausible indeed, as for example the
+street architecture of Mexico City and Buenos Aires, even if what appears to be carved
+French limestone in the Argentine capital is usually but a triumph of imitative craftsmanship
+on the part of stucco-workers imported from Italy. In general, Mexican
+and Argentine Second Empire is very dull, as dull as in Belgium, say, with no Poelaerts
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>to redress the balance. Yet along the Malecón in Havana, Cuba, where the traditional
+galleried house-fronts were reinterpreted in a generically Second Empire way with
+Andalusian lushness, the results are much more notable, not least because the soft local
+stone has been very richly weathered by the strong sea breeze. As was mentioned
+earlier, the use of <i>azulejos</i> in extraordinary tones of brilliant green and purple gives
+autochthonous character to similar work in Brazil.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The international Second Empire mode has so far found no historian or even a sympathetic
+critic. Perhaps no other mode so widespread in its acceptance and so prolific in
+its production has ever received so little attention from posterity. Yet beside it the contemporary
+stream of the Victorian Gothic mode, which has been recurrently studied,
+must seem more than a little parochial and also excessively dependent on the individual
+capacities—not to say the caprices—of its leading practitioners. Within the areas in
+which the Victorian Gothic was employed, however, an area effectively confined to
+the Anglo-Saxon world geographically and to certain kinds of buildings typologically,
+it was capable of major architectural achievement. Moreover, thanks to the line of
+spiritual descent from the leaders of the generation of architects active in the third
+quarter of the century to those of the next, the more creative aspects of the architecture
+of the turn of the century derive in not inconsiderable part from the later Victorian
+Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Lefuels and Hansens, or such men as Brodrick, Poelaert, and
+Gilman, trained no worthy pupils. But the disciples of the Victorian
+Gothic leaders not only include such very able young men who actually
+worked in their offices as Webb and Shaw and Voysey but also, in some
+sense at least, so great an American architect as Richardson, whose
+formal training had been wholly Parisian (see Chapters <a href='#ch11'>11</a>,
+<a href='#ch12'>12</a>, and <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). The advance of domestic architecture in the
+second half of the nineteenth century and, to a somewhat lesser
+extent, also that of commercial architecture therefore owed a great
+deal to the Victorian Gothic, at least in England and America
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>
+  <h2 id='ch10' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 10</span><br />HIGH VICTORIAN GOTHIC IN ENGLAND</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>By</span> 1850 Neo-Gothic was accepted as a proper mode for churches throughout the
+western world. Only in England, however, had it become dominant for such use.
+Moreover, Gothic was a more than acceptable alternative there to Greek or Renaissance
+or Jacobethan design for many other sorts of buildings also. Only in the urban fields of
+commercial construction and of terrace-housing was its employment still very rare. On
+the Continent the nearest equivalent in popularity and ubiquity to the Victorian Gothic
+was the German <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. Neo-Gothic, although used more and more everywhere
+after 1850 for churches, attracted few architectural talents of a high order (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+<p class='c010'>There are several reasons why the Gothic Revival was able in England, and almost
+only in England, to pass into a new and creative phase around 1850. One was certainly
+the ethical emphasis of its doctrines, an emphasis more sympathetic to Victorians than to
+most Europeans of this period, but not without its appeal on the Continent towards the
+end of the century. Another reason was the informality, not to say the amateurishness,
+of architectural education in Britain, encouraging personal discipleship and the cultivation
+of individual expression rather than providing for the continuation of an academic
+tradition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Related to this is the private character of architectural practice in England as compared
+to its more public responsibilities and controls on the Continent. The desirable professional
+positions in France, and to almost the same degree in many other European countries,
+were those offered by the sovereign or the State. But after the time of Soane and
+Nash official employment ceased to carry either prestige or opportunity in England,
+the Houses of Parliament notwithstanding—it was not Barry’s work there but his clubs
+and mansions that established his high professional reputation. As in the eighteenth century,
+a social and aesthetic <i>élite</i> still provided both critical esteem and the most desirable
+commissions for Victorian architects; by 1850 a large part of that <i>élite</i> was very church-minded
+and thoroughly Gothicized. Not until the mid sixties was there any significant
+change; even then those responsible for this change, both the architects and their patrons,
+had all been brought up in the churchly Gothic Revival tradition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The High Victorian Gothic opened with the building of a London church. All Saints’,
+Margaret Street, designed in 1849, largely completed externally by 1852, and consecrated
+in 1859, was the result of no imperial fiat, like the Votivkirche in Vienna or the big
+churches of the sixties in Paris, nor did it occupy like them an isolated site approached
+by wide new boulevards. Intended as a ‘model’ church by its sponsors, the Ecclesiological
+Society, and financed by private individuals, All Saints’ is set in a minor West
+End street at the rear of a restricted court flanked by a clergy house
+and a school (Plate <a href='#pl006a'>6<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But for its tower, the tallest
+feature of the mid-century London skyline, it would have been hard to
+find; but once found, it could never be ignored.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>The architect of All Saints’, Butterfield, had been for some years, together with Carpenter,
+the favourite of the ecclesiologists because of the Pugin-like ‘correctness’ of his
+revived fourteenth-century English Gothic. Now, quite suddenly, he and his sponsors
+embarked on new paths. As soon as the walls began to rise, their startling character became
+apparent; for the church is of red brick, a material long out of use in London, and
+that red brick is banded and patterned with black brick, a theme varied on the tower by
+the insertion of broad bands of stone. ‘Permanent polychrome’, achieved with a variety
+of materials, thus made its debut here. In the interior, moreover, the polychromatic effect
+was even richer and more strident, with marquetry of marble and tile in the spandrels of
+the nave arcade and over the chancel arch, not to speak of onyx and gilding in the
+chancel itself (Plate <a href='#pl085'>85</a>). The very exiguous site forced any expansion upwards; the
+nave is tall, the vaulted chancel taller, and the subsidiary structures flanking the court
+are even higher and narrower in their proportions.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>While the construction of All Saints’ proceeded there was much concurrent and complementary
+activity in the English architectural world. In 1849 a young critic, John
+Ruskin (1819-1900), had brought out an influential book, <i>The Seven Lamps of Architecture</i>,
+in which many of the recommendations ran parallel to, if indeed they did not influence,
+Butterfield’s latest stylistic innovations. Notably, Ruskin urged the study of
+Italian Gothic: if All Saints’ is, in fact, not specifically Italian in the character of its polychromy,
+it seemed so to most contemporaries. The real foreign influences here, as in the
+profile of the fine plain steeple, are German if anything. Butterfield’s moulded detail
+continued to follow quite closely English fourteenth-century models.<a id="r218"></a><a href='#f218' class='c025'><sup>[218]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this same year 1849 Wild<a id="r219"></a><a href='#f219' class='c025'><sup>[219]</sup></a> was building on an even more obscure London site
+in Soho his St Martin’s Northern Schools with pointed arcades of brick definitely
+derived from Italian models. Moreover, he was being acclaimed for doing this by the
+very ecclesiological leaders who had ten years before condemned his Christ Church,
+Streatham, as ‘Saracenic’. With the publication of the first volume of Ruskin’s next
+book, <i>The Stones of Venice</i>, in 1851 (the two less important later volumes came out in
+1853) and the appearance of <i>Brick and Marble Architecture of the Middle Ages in Italy</i> by
+G. E. Street (1824-81) in 1855, Italian influence increased. Street’s name, moreover,
+introduces the third of the three men most responsible for the sharp turn that English
+architecture was taking in the fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Without depending on polychromy, Butterfield designed in 1850 and built in 1851-2
+St Matthias’s off Howard Road in Stoke Newington, a London suburb, another church
+of novel character. Unconfined by a closed-in urban site, this also showed in its great
+scale and the bold silhouette of the gable-roofed tower—still standing today above
+the bombed ruin of the church—how the timid Early Victorian Gothic of the forties
+could be invigorated. Moreover, at St Bartholomew’s at Yealmpton in Devonshire, built
+in 1850, Butterfield introduced in a country church striped piers of two different tones
+of marble and considerable coloured marquetry work. A former fellow assistant of
+Street in G. G. Scott’s office, William H. White (1826-90), at All Saints’ in Talbot Road,
+Kensington, in London, begun in 1850, also used the new polychromy that soon
+became the principal, though by no means the only, hallmark of High Victorian Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>A large country house of stone by S. S. Teulon (1812-73), Tortworth Court in
+Gloucestershire, built in 1849-53, has no polychromy, although its architect was soon to
+be the most unrestrained of all in its exploitation. His patrons, moreover, would be
+notably ‘lower’ in their churchmanship than the members of the Ecclesiological Society
+who employed Butterfield. But in the boldly plastic massing of Tortworth, leading up
+to a tall central tower of the most complex silhouette, Teulon exemplified the new architectural
+ambitions, ambitions that would soon be finding as striking expression in
+secular work as in ecclesiastical building whether ‘high’ or ‘low’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Street had been a favourite of the High Church party since he first began building
+small churches and schools of a most ‘correct’ sort in Cornwall on leaving Scott’s office.<a id="r220"></a><a href='#f220' class='c025'><sup>[220]</sup></a>
+He was also the author of several critical articles published in <i>The Ecclesiologist</i>, notable
+for their cogency. In these he commented, for example, on the applicability of the arcades
+of Wild’s school to commercial building; he also attacked the curious habit of the
+forties, most prevalent with the ecclesiologists, of designing urban churches on confined
+sites as if they were to sprawl over ample village greens. Street began his first important
+church with associated school buildings, All Saints’, Boyn Hill, at Maidenhead, in
+1853. Here he employed red brick and almost as much permanent polychrome as
+Butterfield at All Saints’, Margaret Street. He also handled the detail, particularly on the
+schools, with something of the same sort of brutal ‘realism’ (to use the catchword of
+the period) that Butterfield used on his subsidiary buildings.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the same year in London Street’s former employer Scott, long established as the
+most successful, if hardly the most ‘correct’, of Early Victorian Gothic practitioners,
+and since 1849 Architect to Westminster Abbey, built in Broad Sanctuary contiguous
+to the façade of the Abbey a Gothic terrace. That the use of Gothic should have been
+encouraged here by the Abbey authorities is not surprising. But they themselves may
+well have been surprised at what their architect produced; for this is no flat range of
+Neo-Tudor fronts in stock brick, but a plastic mass of stonework bristling with oriels
+and turrets and capped with a broken skyline of stepped gables. Nothing here recalls the
+rather French thirteenth-century Gothic of the Abbey itself; instead the effect is Germanic,
+recalling the medieval houses of the Hansa cities. The work was executed with a
+boldness of detail doubtless less personal in character than Butterfield’s or Street’s, but
+quite as striking to the casual observer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Scott’s houses had little influence, however. Gothic terraces were no more popular in
+the fifties and sixties in England than in the preceding decades. In residential districts the
+flood of more-or-less Renaissance stucco continued to spread, little affected by the High
+Victorian Gothic. As we have seen, the Second Empire mode also had only a very
+limited success in this field of construction, a field dominated not by architects but by
+builders.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1853 also Scott provided for the Camden Church in the Peckham Road in South
+London—Ruskin’s own family church—a new east end in a round-arched and banded
+medievalizing mode; Ruskin himself collaborated on the window design, or so it is said.
+There is sufficient Gothic ‘realism’ in the detail here to justify considering this a round-arched
+variant of the High Victorian Gothic; but it is definitely of Italian inspiration.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>It seems also to be related to the later <i>Rundbogenstil</i> of this decade in Germany and
+Austria; nor is it altogether without resemblance to such a contemporary French church
+as Vaudoyer’s Byzantinesque cathedral of Marseilles.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Several far more important and better publicized interventions in architecture on the
+part of Ruskin followed immediately. In considerable part because of his personal influence
+with Oxford friends, the Gothic design of the Irish architects Sir Thomas Deane<a id="r221"></a><a href='#f221' class='c025'><sup>[221]</sup></a>
+(1792-1871) and Benjamin Woodward (1815-61) was accepted for the University
+Museum at Oxford in 1855. Woodward had already proved himself a would-be Ruskinian
+in detailing their design of 1853 for the Museum of Trinity College, Dublin, in
+a Venetian (though largely <i>quattrocento</i>) way. As the Oxford Museum rose to completion
+in the next four years, Ruskin was in continuous contact with Woodward, providing
+himself the design for at least one window as well as encouraging the delegation to the
+Irish carvers of much of the responsibility for the ornamental decoration—of which
+only a small part was, in fact, ever executed. The work of the O’Sheas is better
+appreciated in Dublin, where the decoration both of the Trinity College building and
+of the Kildare Street Club of 1861 was carried out by them in a very free and yet boldly
+naturalistic vein.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most interesting feature of the University Museum—and one that it is surprising
+to find Ruskin, who hated iron and all it stood for in the nineteenth-century world, involved
+with—is the court, with its roof of iron and glass (Plate <a href='#pl086b'>86<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). How different this is,
+however, from what iron-founders without architectural control were providing at the
+same time in the Brompton Boilers! Yet it is even more different from Hopper’s or
+Rickman’s iron Gothic of fifty years earlier (Plate <a href='#pl060b'>60<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). For all the elaboration of the
+ornament, which is very metallic in character but also very aware of Early Gothic
+precedent, what is most notable is the highly articulated character of the structure, as if
+the architects had asked themselves: ‘How would medieval builders have used structural
+iron had it been readily available to them?’ Is this, perhaps, the first echo in England of
+the theories of Viollet-le-Duc, the French architect who was to exercise an international
+influence equal to Ruskin’s over the next generation? Probably not, as his own enthusiasm
+for iron began only rather later (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). Whether or not there is specific
+influence from Viollet-le-Duc here, his great archaeological publication, the <i>Dictionnaire
+raisonné</i>,<a id="r222"></a><a href='#f222' class='c025'><sup>[222]</sup></a> had begun to appear the year before. Very soon the structural expressiveness
+of ‘Early French’ detailing, studied by English architects at first hand as well as in
+the woodcuts of the <i>Dictionnaire</i>, began to supplant Italian polychromy as the hallmark
+of advanced fashion in the higher aesthetic circles.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A more modest Oxford building by Deane &amp; Woodward, the Union Debating Hall
+of 1856-7, has more vigour on the whole than does the Museum, particularly in its characteristically
+notched brick detailing. It also has the advantage of murals by the young
+Pre-Raphaelites. One of these, who had just left Street’s architectural office to turn
+briefly to painting, was William Morris (1834-96).<a id="r223"></a><a href='#f223' class='c025'><sup>[223]</sup></a> His ceiling here initiated the most
+distinguished career of architectural decoration of the second half of the century. Morris
+as a critical writer was destined, moreover, to be at least as influential on later architecture
+as Ruskin or Viollet-le-Duc.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>Of the same date, 1856, is perhaps the most successful of Butterfield’s extant churches,
+that at Baldersby St James near Beverley in Yorkshire, with its contiguous group of
+vicarage, schools, and cottages. All of stone externally, the polychromy here is rather a
+sort of ‘poly-texture’ most effectively handled in the banding of the tall pyramidal spire
+above the plain square tower (Plate <a href='#pl087'>87</a>). Internally a delicate harmony of pink and
+grey-blue bricks, with accents of creamy stone, replaces the acid chords of All Saints’ in
+London, a harmony rivalled in the Welsh church of St Augustine’s at Penarth near Cardiff
+built a decade later in 1866. At the same time, Teulon at St Andrew’s in Coin Street
+off Stamford Street south of the Thames in London was using the boldest of brick-and-stone
+banding externally and, inside, elaborate patterns of light-coloured brickwork.
+Moreover, the rather Germanic planning of this church, demolished since the Second
+World War, was highly unorthodox by ecclesiological standards. Already it was evident
+that within the High Victorian Gothic there were to be two streams, one High Church
+in its patronage and led by architects of considerable learning and sophistication like
+Butterfield and Street, another more characteristically Low Church and often quite
+secular; this was generally coarser and more philistine, not to say outright illiterate.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet not all the best work of the High Church architects was ecclesiastical. By 1857
+J. L. Pearson (1817-97) had already built some respectable if not very interesting
+churches distinguished chiefly by their very fine spires; but his first work of positive
+High Victorian character was Quar Wood, a country house he built in Gloucestershire
+in that year. The skilful asymmetrical massing around the stair tower here, the
+plastic variety provided by several different types of steep roofs, the crisp precision of
+the detailing, all combine to produce a modest mansion that is as different in effect from
+Teulon’s mountainous Tortworth as both are characteristic of the beginnings of the
+High Victorian Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two houses begun soon after Quar Wood, both within the broad frame of reference
+of the maturing High Victorian Gothic, could hardly differ more from one another. In
+remodelling Eatington Park in Warwickshire in 1858 John Prichard (1818-86) attempted
+to mask an underlying Georgian mansion with a profusion of bold innovations
+in the detailing. Stone polychromy, applied sculpture, bold plastic membering of wall,
+roof, and chimneys, all are used here more abundantly than ever before. The Red House
+at Bexley Heath in Kent, on the other hand, which Philip Webb (1831-1915), who had
+been a fellow pupil with Morris in Street’s office, built for Morris in 1859-60, is notable
+for its extreme simplicity. So also is the house now known as Benfleet Hall that he
+built in 1861 at Cobham in Surrey for Spencer Stanhope, another of the young artists
+who had collaborated on the murals of the Oxford Union. This has a rather better
+plan than the Red House.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These houses have no external polychromy, only plain red brick beautifully laid;
+there is no sculptured detail at all; and the few breaks in the loose massing of the walls
+and roof are closely related to the informal ease of the rather novel plans. Only the high
+roofs of red tile are similar to those of Pearson’s Quar Wood. But in the plain, very
+‘real’, detailing and the segmental-headed white-painted window-sash of an early
+eighteenth-century sort, set under pointed relieving arches, the relationship is close to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>the secular work of somewhat older men—to Butterfield’s vicarages of
+the forties (Plate <a href='#pl122b'>122<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) and more notably to his clergy house
+and school at All Saints’, Margaret Street (Plate <a href='#pl086a'>86<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+Webb had himself worked on some of the latest
+of the rather similar vicarages and schools that Street had been
+building for a decade. His first big country house, Arisaig, built of
+local stone in the remote Scottish Highlands forty miles beyond Fort
+William in Inverness-shire beginning in 1863, may properly be
+considered High Victorian Gothic also (Figure <a href='#i260'>23</a>). It is especially
+interesting, like Benfleet Hall, for its plan (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Down to about 1860 the development of the High Victorian Gothic was on the
+whole convergent. Henceforth, ambitious young architects tried harder to have personal
+modes of their own like Butterfield; yet, conversely, many formed loose stylistic alliances
+in which individual expression became merged in some sort of group expression.
+The boldest and the most unruly were no longer likely to be of the High Church party,
+but rather of the Low. St Simon Zelotes of 1859 in Moore Street in London by Joseph
+Peacock (1821-93) hardly compares with the work of Butterfield and Street in distinction;
+but its internal polychromy of white and black brick outbids that of their best
+London churches, also built at the end of this decade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Butterfield’s St Alban’s in Baldwin’s Gardens off Holborn in London, erected 1858-61,
+is all rebuilt now. But something of its splendidly tall proportions, if not the rich brick
+and tile marquetry of the wall over the chancel arch, can still be apprehended. The
+contrast in quality with Peacock’s work was once amazing. Street’s St James the Less
+in Thorndike Street off the Vauxhall Bridge Road in London also of 1858-61, is less
+fine but still much superior to Peacock’s work (Plate <a href='#pl094b'>94<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The tall square tower, set
+apart like a campanile, has a curiously gawky roof based on French models and the
+interior is somewhat cavernous. But in the richness of its red and black brick patterns,
+used both inside and out, and in the naturalistic carving of the nave capitals this church
+of Street’s rivals Butterfield’s All Saints’ and St Alban’s and is, unlike the latter, still
+completely intact.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Various younger men of Webb’s generation were beginning to make important
+contributions in church design also. G. F. Bodley (1827-1907), trained in his kinsman
+Scott’s office rather than in Street’s, built St Michael’s, Brighton, in 1859-62. This must
+have been very striking for the boldness of its scale and for the vigour of its structural
+expression before it was overshadowed by the tall later nave beside it added by William
+Burges (1827-81).<a id="r224"></a><a href='#f224' class='c025'><sup>[224]</sup></a> But it is not the parody of ‘Early French’ detailing in the square
+archivolts and spreading capitals of the nave arcade, so soon to be abjured by Bodley,
+that is significant here but the fact that this was the first church to receive an over-all
+decorative treatment, including stained glass, at the hands of Morris and his associates,
+who included the painters Ford Madox Brown and Edward Burne-Jones.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is still finer glass of this period designed by Burne-Jones in the east window of
+Waltham Abbey in Essex, where the rear wall was rebuilt in the heaviest ‘Early
+French’ taste by Burges in 1860-1. As a painter Burne-Jones is hardly to be compared
+with Ingres; yet as a designer of stained glass the superiority of such early windows of
+his as these at Waltham Abbey to the ones by Ingres at Dreux and at Neuilly is amazing.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>It is not the least claim to distinction of the High Victorian Gothic that it nurtured this
+brilliant revival of decorative art led by Morris. Many churches of the sixties and
+seventies are worth visiting solely for their windows by Morris, Brown, and Burne-Jones
+to which there are apparently no worthy Continental parallels.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A quite different sort of contemporary church is White’s Holy Saviour, Aberdeen
+Park, in London, of 1859. Externally this is quiet and rather shapeless; but inside the red
+brick of the exterior gives way to a subtle harmony of patterned brickwork in beiges,
+browns, and mauves—assisted in the chancel by some additional decorative painting—that
+is unequalled in High Victorian polychromy. Also rather different from standard
+High Church Anglican work of the day is the Catholic church of St Peter in Leamington
+of 1861-5 (Plate <a href='#pl089a'>89<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) by Henry Clutton (1819-93). He had won the competition for
+Lille Cathedral in France in 1855 with a design prepared in collaboration with Burges,
+but was not allowed to supervise the construction because he was a Protestant; English
+Roman Catholics were not so bigoted. Internally the characteristic articulation of
+Puginian planning was given up; nave and apse form one continuous vessel, almost
+basilican in effect, under a barrel roof that ends in a half dome. Unfortunately, the
+painted decoration of the walls and the ceiling here has all been destroyed; the effect
+must once have been much less barren than it is today. Externally, plain red brick is
+most happily combined with stone trim treated with great simplicity and yet with extreme
+subtlety. The inspiration is Early French, perhaps influenced by Viollet-le-Duc,<a id="r225"></a><a href='#f225' class='c025'><sup>[225]</sup></a>
+although Clutton knew old French work at first hand; but the smooth concavities and
+the delicately varied chamfers are handled with the greatest originality and justness of
+scaling. The fine tower, at once sturdy in its detailing and svelte in its shape, has lost the
+original pyramidal roof.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not unworthy of the church, and vastly superior to Clutton’s rather dull country
+houses, is the contiguous rectory here, a rectangle in plan with the long gable broken
+only by elegantly chamfered pairs of brick chimneys (Plate <a href='#pl089a'>89<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The expanses of plain
+brick wall are regularly but not symmetrically pierced by coupled windows divided by
+colonnette mullions of stone. In simplicity of massing this rectory surpassed the Red
+House and Webb’s other—and in some ways better—early house for Spencer Stanhope,
+Benfleet Hall. In their simple dignity such things contrast sharply with the more ambitious
+secular work of the day, by this time reaching peaks of elaboration almost
+exceeding Prichard’s Eatington Park.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Teulon’s Elvethan Park in Hampshire of 1861, for example, is perhaps the wildest
+of all High Victorian Gothic houses; this mansion is so complex in composition and
+so varied in its detailing that it quite defies description. Polychromy runs riot, forms
+of the most various but undefinable Gothic provenience merge into one another, and
+the result seems almost to illustrate that original mode of design which Thomas Harris
+(1830-1900)<a id="r226"></a><a href='#f226' class='c025'><sup>[226]</sup></a> had just christened ‘Victorian’ in describing a project he published in
+1860 for a terrace of houses at Harrow.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, several churches of the mid sixties rivalled Elvethan Hall, if not Harris’s
+‘Victorian Terrace’. There was, for example, Teulon’s own St Thomas’s, Wrotham Road,
+of 1864, piling up to its heavy central tower among the railway yards of Camden Town
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>in London; and there was also his much more peculiar St Paul’s, Avenue Road, also of
+1864, in the approaches to Hampstead. This was purged early of its original internal decoration
+but it long remained externally an almost unrecognizable variant of the standard
+Victorian Gothic church. Both have been demolished since the war. At St Mary’s in
+the London suburb of Ealing, built in 1866-73, Teulon used iron columns for the nave
+arcade; a still wilder Low Church architect, Bassett Keeling (1836-86), did the same in
+two London churches, St Mark’s in St Mark’s Road, Notting Dale, and St George’s on
+Campden Hill (where they have since been replaced), both begun in 1864. Nor were
+Teulon and Keeling by any means the only architects to revive the use of iron columns
+in the sixties; even Burges introduced them once in a church, St Faith’s at Stoke Newington,
+now largely demolished, and also in his Speech Room at Harrow School of
+1872.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of a quite different order is another London church, St Martin’s in Vicars Road,
+Gospel Oak, also begun in 1864. This is by E. B. Lamb (1805-69), an architect who had
+already begun to show rather High Victorian tendencies in the thirties. There is no polychromy
+here, and the inspiration from the past is neither Italian nor French but the still
+heterodox English Perpendicular. The massive plasticity of Lamb’s personal mode, with
+much large-scale chamfering and a consistent use of segmental-pointed arches in several
+orders, is happier where it was exploited more simply on the nearby rectory. The interior
+of his church, which has a sort of central plan with wide transepts and only a
+slightly prolonged nave, is a forest of timber-work ingeniously bracketed and intersected
+in a fashion peculiar to Lamb. Only perhaps in an international context, in relation to
+the contemporary American ‘Stick Style’, is this sort of structural articulation intelligible
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). But the solid, compactly planned, and simply detailed rectory has
+virtues not unworthy of comparison with Clutton’s at Leamington, if not perhaps with
+Webb’s more delicately scaled and functionally articulated early houses.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two churches by Street, St John’s at Torquay of 1861-71<a id="r227"></a><a href='#f227' class='c025'><sup>[227]</sup></a> and St Philip and St
+James’s at Oxford, which was completed in 1862, are more standard products of the
+early sixties. The former is notable for the very rich marble polychromy in the chancel
+and the full complement of windows by Morris and Burne-Jones; the latter is more
+‘Early French’ with a tall tower rising in front of the polygonal apse and a curiously
+unorthodox but effectively ‘real’ way of running the nave arches into the east wall with
+no imposts at all. This device was repeated at All Saints’, Clifton, now a ruin, where the
+variety of colours of the fine local stones—orange and blue Pennant and cream Bath—permitted
+a more truly structural polychromy than usual and one of remarkable tonal
+harmony and elegance. All Saints’ was begun in 1863.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both Burges and Pearson erected distinguished churches at this time, Burges in Ireland,
+Pearson in London. St Finbar’s Church of Ireland Cathedral in Cork, designed in
+1863 for a competition and built in 1865-76, is of unusual size for a British church of
+this period and, what is more unusual for a nineteenth-century cathedral, it was completed
+without serious modification of the original project. Provided with a fine open
+site and a full complement of towers, two flanking the west front and a taller one over
+the crossing, this rivals in elaboration the big Continental Gothic churches of the period
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>(see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). Moreover, the detailing is of a distinctly French twelfth-century order
+with very few eclectic or Italianate touches, thus recalling the winning design for Lille
+Cathedral that he had prepared with Clutton in 1855. Yet the contrast with contemporary
+Continental Gothic—especially with Lille Cathedral as finally executed by
+others—is almost as great as in the case of the rather more original English churches of
+this period by Butterfield or Street.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the interior of St Finbar’s Burges developed the theme of articulation, a theme
+more characteristically Early English than ‘Early French’, with remarkable plastic
+vigour, while the handsome wooden roof, so rare a feature in medieval France, lends to
+the whole an unmistakably Victorian air. Less subtle, less aesthetic, than other churches
+of the sixties by younger men, St Finbar’s has the sort of athletic strength that is characteristic
+of much High Victorian Gothic, expressed in unusually literate, not to say
+archaeological, terms.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Burges’s church opened the road again towards a more ‘correct’ imitation of the
+medieval High Gothic, a road along which Pearson soon proceeded more rapidly and
+more doggedly than he. Yet Pearson’s own South London church of 1863-5, St Peter’s
+in Kennington Lane, Vauxhall, is more typically High Victorian than St Finbar’s. The
+carved capitals and the heavy scale of the stone detail are rather ‘Early French’. But
+walls and vaults are of London stock brick and there is some polychromy of the quieter,
+less Butterfieldian, sort resembling a little White’s at St Saviour’s. The continuity of
+the chancel and rounded apse with the nave echoes the ‘unified space’ of Clutton’s
+Leamington interior. Puginian articulation of plan and mass was henceforth somewhat
+out of date.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Albert Memorial<a id="r228"></a><a href='#f228' class='c025'><sup>[228]</sup></a> in Hyde Park in London is a monument generally—and not
+unjustly—considered the perfect symbol of this High Victorian period, more perfect
+than the Houses of Parliament (in the early sixties at last approaching completion) were
+of the previous Early Victorian period. In 1861 Queen Victoria’s beloved husband, the
+Prince Consort, died. In the competition for a national memorial to rise in Hyde Park
+near the site of the Crystal Palace, held the next year, G. G. Scott almost inevitably won
+first place. Construction of the Albert Memorial began in 1863 and took nearly ten
+years. By the time it was completed in 1872 critics of advanced taste were already condemning
+it, yet it represents precisely what Scott most liked to do and what he undoubtedly
+did best—in his own words, this his ‘most prominent work’ represented his
+‘highest and most enthusiastic efforts’. It is, moreover, an epitome of the aspirations<a id="r229"></a><a href='#f229' class='c025'><sup>[229]</sup></a>
+that were most widely held when it was designed (Plate <a href='#pl090'>90</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The contrast between this elaborate shrine and Scott’s modest and essentially archaeological
+Martyrs’ Memorial of 1841 at Oxford is very great—what a long distance the
+English Gothic Revival had travelled in a score of years! Among Early Victorian
+memorials the Prince Consort’s cenotaph is rather more like Kemp’s Scott Monument
+in Edinburgh (Plate <a href='#pl051'>51</a>) than like the Oxford one. But where Kemp’s is soft
+and monochrome, this is hard and almost kaleidoscopically polychromatic. Scott’s
+theme is still that of the fourteenth-century English Eleanor Crosses, as is certainly
+appropriate for a monument to a Royal spouse; but the inspiration came in the main
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>from relatively small reliquaries and other medieval works executed in metal and
+embellished with enamels and semi-precious stones.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Martyrs’ Memorial was purely English, the specific precedents for the Albert
+Memorial mostly Continental: Italian, French, German, and Flemish. The materials
+are cold and shining, polished granites, marbles, and serpentines of various colours;
+and much of the detail is executed in gun-metal left plain or gilded. A profusion of
+white marble sculpture at various scales leads up to the seated bronze figure of the
+Prince by J. H. Foley, finally installed in 1876, over which is a vaulted canopy of brilliantly
+coloured glass mosaic. Enamels, cabochons of marble or serpentine, and intricately
+crisp detail of the most metallic character carry out Scott’s basic idea of a ciborium
+enlarged, like Bernini’s in St Peter’s, to fully architectural scale.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Beside the Albert Memorial most of Scott’s other work of this period lacks interest.
+His churches, particularly, are likely to be dull and respectable, reflecting the new
+eclectic tastes of the day only in a rather inconspicuous way. His Exeter College Chapel
+at Oxford of 1856-8 is a sort of Sainte-Chapelle; St John’s College Chapel at Cambridge
+of 1863-9 is equally monumental but somewhat less French in character and also more
+original in its proportions. His secular work at Oxford and Cambridge is also dull, lacking
+the Ruskinian touches that give a certain vitality to the Meadow Buildings built for
+Christ Church in 1863 by Sir Thomas Deane and his son Thomas Newenham Deane
+(1828-99).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far finer, however, is their Kildare Street Club in Dublin, facing the Trinity College
+Museum across an expanse of lawn; for this continues the best Ruskinian tradition of the
+work that they did earlier with Woodward.<a id="r230"></a><a href='#f230' class='c025'><sup>[230]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A very striking example of the Gothic of the early sixties in England, superior to anything
+at Oxford or Cambridge, is the Merchant Seamen’s Orphan Asylum of 1861 by
+G. Somers Clark (1825-82), now the Wanstead Hospital, in a suburb north-east of
+London. This is actually more what is supposed to be ‘Ruskinian’, because of its Venetian
+detailing, than the very original Dublin clubhouse with its consistent theme of segmental
+arches and its bold naturalistic carving; but, like that, the Wanstead building is
+generically High Victorian in the asymmetrical massing, the strong colours of the black-banded
+red brickwork, and the surprising richness of the decoration Clark lavished on a
+utilitarian structure.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the early sixties several younger men, most of them trained in Street’s office, were
+already turning away from the stridency of the work of the High Victorian leaders towards
+a simpler and suaver mode. Webb’s houses of this period have been mentioned,
+and will be again (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Here the plain row of small London shops that he
+built at 91-101 Worship Street, Finsbury, in 1861 might be described. In them the
+material is not even red brick, but London stocks excellently laid. Almost nothing is
+overtly Gothic, yet a sense of medieval craftsmanship controls the handling of both the
+wide shop-windows below and the sash-windows in the upper storeys. Above all, the
+general composition is quiet and regular, more like Clutton’s Leamington rectory than
+the asymmetrical articulation that is characteristic of Webb’s own houses of these years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A similar quietness controls the design of the wing that W. Eden Nesfield (1835-88),
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>son of Barry’s collaborator on Italian gardens, William A. Nesfield (1793-1881), and a
+pupil not of Street but of Burn and Salvin, was adding to the Earl of Craven’s seat,
+Combe Abbey in Warwickshire, beginning in 1863. This was Nesfield’s earliest work.
+Despite his own studies of French Gothic,<a id="r231"></a><a href='#f231' class='c025'><sup>[231]</sup></a> which he had published the previous year
+with a dedication to Lord Craven, and the tracings he is supposed to have made from
+the illustrations of Gothic detail in Viollet-le-Duc’s <i>Dictionnaire</i>, the arches at Combe
+Abbey are round, not pointed, and the major architectural theme is the English late
+medieval ‘window-wall’ of many lights divided by stone mullions and transoms.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In a completely new house, Cloverley Hall, that Nesfield began in 1865 together
+with his partner Richard Norman Shaw (1831-1912), the great window-bays and the
+other ranges of stone-mullioned windows in the beautifully laid salmon-pink brick
+walls were even more the principal theme of the design. But in the decorations, delicate
+in scale and elegant in craftsmanship, a new sort of eclecticism made its appearance.
+Basically the house derives from those manor houses of the sixteenth century that were
+uninfluenced by Renaissance ideas; but in the detailing of Cloverley there were Japanese
+motifs, notably the sunflower disks that Nesfield called his ‘pies’, reflecting the new
+interest in oriental art that such painters as Whistler and Rossetti were taking. Except for
+its relatively early date, Cloverley Hall has no place in a discussion of High Victorian
+Gothic, for it is characteristically Late Victorian (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nesfield’s partner Shaw, however, built in the sixties two churches that were still
+High Victorian in style, one in Yorkshire, the other at Lyons in France. Holy Trinity at
+Bingley of 1866-7 is one of the finest examples of the ‘Early French’ phase of the Victorian
+Gothic (Plate <a href='#pl094a'>94<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Externally it builds up to a very tall central tower, superbly
+proportioned and very simply detailed, that more than rivals in quality Street’s at Oxford.
+Internally the fine random-ashlar stonework—there is no polychromy—the very
+bold and structural detailing of the square archivolts and the simply carved capitals
+illustrate even better than does Webb’s domestic work in brick the new and more
+sophisticated attitude towards the building crafts. The principles involved go back to
+Pugin; but now for the first time in Webb’s and Nesfield’s and Shaw’s work of the sixties
+one senses a real respect, at once intelligent and intuitive, for the differing nature of
+different materials. Such a respect would continue to give special virtue to the work of
+the most distinguished English and American architects of the late nineteenth and early
+twentieth centuries
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch12'>12</a>, <a href='#ch13'>13</a>, <a href='#ch15'>15</a>, and <a href='#ch19'>19</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Lyons church, which Shaw began in 1868, is perhaps the finest of the many
+Victorian churches built on the Continent for local English colonies, but very different
+indeed from that at Bingley. A city church set between tall blocks of flats, this is also
+very tall in its proportions and has a more urban character than that of the Yorkshire
+church. French freestone does not lend itself to the particular type of semi-rustic craftsmanship
+that was now rising to favour with the younger English architects; hence the
+Lyons church is less significant than the Bingley one in that respect. But Shaw was not
+primarily a church architect, nor did he long remain a High Victorian (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>More characteristic of the various new directions that the Victorian Gothic was taking
+in the mid sixties, directions that soon also led quite away from the High Victorian, are
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>two new churches both designed well before Shaw’s at Bingley and Lyons were begun.
+At All Saints’ in Jesus Lane, Cambridge, begun in 1863, the spikiness of the Italianizing
+Victorian Gothic and the rugged structuralism of the ‘Early French’—rarely carried
+farther than in Bodley’s own early work—gave way to something much more English
+in inspiration. There is, for example, a very deep chancel and only one aisle, not to speak
+of a battlemented tower at one side, out of which rises a small stone spire. In fact, Bodley
+returned here to the fourteenth-century Decorated models preferred by Pugin, some so
+‘late’ as to suggest the still forbidden Perpendicular.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bodley now made even more use of the decorative talents of Morris and his associates
+than at St Michael’s, Brighton. His St Martin’s-on-the-Cliff, Scarborough, completed
+in 1863, is a finer church than either St Michael’s or All Saints’. Falling between them
+in style as well as in date, this has less historical importance, but it also was richly decorated
+by the Morris firm. At All Saints’ painted polychromy, but of a rather subtle order much
+superior to most of that of the forties, entirely replaced permanent polychrome. The
+brocade patterns stencilled on the walls seem almost to be designs of Pugin strengthened
+in their outlines and their colours by Morris. Although Bodley’s mature career as one
+of the two principal Late Victorian church architects did not really get under way until
+1870, Victorian Gothic was evidently coming full circle at All Saints’, and the High
+Victorian phase was nearly over.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The other important new church of this period, St Saviour’s, Penn Street, in the Hoxton
+district of the East End of London, was begun in 1865 by James Brooks (1825-1901).
+Unfortunately this was very badly damaged in the blitz, and has since been
+demolished. St Saviour’s was of brick and included some polychromy like Brooks’s
+slightly earlier East End church, St Michael’s in Mark Street, Shoreditch, of 1863-5. But
+what was really significant at St Saviour’s was the unified interior space, ending like
+Clutton’s Leamington church and Pearson’s Vauxhall church in London in a rounded
+apse (Plate <a href='#pl089b'>89<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Notable also were the Webb-like quietness of the general composition
+and the straightforward handling of the main structural elements. In another, happily
+unblitzed, church by Brooks in the East End of London, St Chad’s, Nichols Square, in
+Haggerston, which was begun in 1867, the same qualities can be seen in a more mature
+state. Moreover, the rather plain windows and the simple moulded brick trim are
+echoed at domestic scale on the nearby rectory.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The fine vessel of the interior of St Chad’s, with its simple nave arcade of stone, clean
+red-brick walls, quietly structural wooden roof over the nave, and brick-vaulted chancel,
+contrasts strikingly with the hectic elaboration and dramatically vertical proportions
+of Butterfield’s last London church of any great interest, St Augustine’s, Queen’s Gate,
+of 1865-71. Two churches of the late sixties outside London, All Saints’ at Babbacombe
+near Torquay, which was built in 1868-74, and the earlier mentioned St Augustine’s at
+Penarth, begun in 1866, are much more satisfactory examples of Butterfield’s middle
+period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Brooks continued through the seventies to develop the implications of his East End
+churches with great success. The largest and most notable is that of the Ascension,
+Lavender Hill, in Battersea, which was begun in 1873 and completed by J. T. Micklethwaite<a id="r232"></a><a href='#f232' class='c025'><sup>[232]</sup></a>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>(1843-1906), a former assistant of G. G. Scott, in 1883. The vast lancet-pierced
+red-brick hull of this church is one of the landmarks of the South London
+skyline; the interior, which is perhaps a little bare, has nevertheless a monumentality
+of scale rare in English churches of any period. However, this monumentality is rivalled
+both inside and out in St Bartholomew’s, Brighton (Plate <a href='#pl093b'>93<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), completed in 1875 by
+Edmund E. Scott (?-1895), and considerably later in Brooks’s own London church of
+All Hallows, Shirlock Street, begun in 1889 and never provided with its intended vaults.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Victorian Gothic, whether Early or High, is primarily an ecclesiastical mode. The
+leading Neo-Gothic architects were happiest when building churches; their few secular
+works—if parsonages, colleges, and schools can really in this period be called secular—generally
+have a churchy tone. But it is characteristic of the High Victorian Gothic as
+opposed to the Early Victorian Gothic, and <i>a fortiori</i> to Neo-Gothic on the Continent,
+that it became for some twenty years, from the early fifties to the early seventies, a
+nearly universal mode.<a id="r233"></a><a href='#f233' class='c025'><sup>[233]</sup></a> A good many houses have already been cited; and certainly no
+churches of this period provide finer specimens of High Victorian Gothic than the warehouse
+at 104 Stokes Croft in Bristol, which was built by E. W. Godwin (1833-86), a
+friend of Burges, in the early sixties (Plate <a href='#pl113'>113</a>), or the office building of 1864-5 at 60
+Mark Lane in London by George Aitchison (1825-1910). The one is an especially subtly
+polychromed attempt to follow Ruskin’s Italianism, the other more ‘Early French’ in
+its detail, but both use round-arched arcading throughout their several storeys (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Godwin in two rather modest town halls, one at Northampton of 1861-4, which is
+very rich in sculptural detail, the other at Congleton, Cheshire, of 1864-7, which is more
+severe and ‘Early French’ in character, produced two further High Victorian Gothic<a id="r234"></a><a href='#f234' class='c025'><sup>[234]</sup></a>
+works of the highest quality (Plate <a href='#pl092a'>92<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Unfortunately by the time the taste of the
+authorities in the larger English cities caught up in the late sixties with the advanced
+position of the High Church architectural leaders, those leaders had left that position far
+behind. As a result, many of the biggest and most conspicuous public edifices are very
+retardataire. Gothic designs won only low premiums in the Government Offices competition
+in 1857, although both Street’s and Deane &amp; Woodward’s—on which Ruskin
+advised—were of considerable distinction. When Alfred Waterhouse (1830-1905) two
+years later won the competition for the Manchester Assize Courts he elaborated the
+design of this large public structure along the rather unimaginative lines of Deane &amp;
+Woodward’s earlier Oxford Museum, then just reaching completion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At best Waterhouse had a rather heavy hand and an uncertain sort of eclectic taste
+somewhat like G. G. Scott’s. He lacked the cranky boldness of a Butterfield, the sophistication
+of a Street, and the sense of craftsmanship of such men as Webb and Godwin
+who were his own contemporaries. But he did have real capacity as a planner of large
+and complex buildings, something at which most of the leading church architects had
+little or no experience. Thus his Manchester Town Hall, begun ten years later than the
+Assize Courts in 1869, while lacking all the refinement of Godwin’s smaller and earlier
+ones, is a large-scale exercise in High Victorian Gothic of some interest. But inevitably
+the High Victorian Gothic was a mode less well suited to this kind of monumental
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>exploitation than the contemporary Second Empire mode as naturalized in England and
+America. For all the skill of Waterhouse in the organization of plan and general composition
+and in the bold detailing of materials inside and out, the Manchester
+Town Hall is a late and inferior work—late, that is, in the phase of style which it represents,
+though not so late in the highly successful career of its architect. It may properly
+be compared, and to its own manifest advantage, moreover, with Schmidt’s Rathaus in
+Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The other most conspicuous High Victorian Gothic public monument, the Law
+Courts in London, is the work of Street, an older and far more distinguished architect;
+but it came very late indeed in Street’s career, so late that he died before it was finished
+in 1882. Designed originally for a competition held in 1866, many years dragged by
+during which the site was twice changed—once southward to the river’s edge and then
+back to the north of the Strand—before it was even begun in 1874. Other work of the
+late sixties and early seventies by Street indicates how completely his own taste had
+turned away from this sort of French thirteenth-century Gothic even before the Law
+Courts were started.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At St Margaret’s in Liverpool, for example, which he designed in 1867, Street reverted
+to English fourteenth-century models; thus, like Bodley at All Saints’, Cambridge, he
+seemed to be returning to the particular stylistic ideal with which the ecclesiologists had
+started out twenty-five years before. In the Guards’ Chapel at the Wellington Barracks
+in London, however, which was all but completely destroyed in the blitz, he in 1877
+remodelled the interior of an engineer-built Grecian edifice with incredible sumptuousness
+in a sort of Byzantinoid Italian Romanesque, using a stone-and-brick banded barrel
+vault and a glittering investiture of gold and glass mosaic that quite outshone the comparable
+work of Continental architects in the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>. Then, in remodelling the
+interior of St Luke’s, West Norwood, near London, built by Francis Bedford (1784-1858)
+in 1823-5, equally Grecian, he used in 1878-9 round-arched Italian detail. Despite
+the bold banding in brick and stone, this is certainly not Gothic or Byzantine, but rather
+recalls the Tuscan Proto-Renaissance, or even the <i>quattrocento</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Certain buildings by Deane &amp; Woodward and by Scott at Oxford and Cambridge
+have already been mentioned; much more exists by Scott, Waterhouse, and various
+others, very little of it of any distinction, yet sometimes fitting not too uncomfortably
+into the general scene. The most striking example of Victorian Gothic architecture at
+Oxford, fortunately on an isolated site opposite the Parks, where it had no neighbours
+earlier than the Museum, is Butterfield’s Keble College, a complete entity in itself,
+largely built in 1868-70. With its walls so violently striated with bricks of various colours,
+Keble would have been a most disturbing increment to any existing college; on the
+other hand, Butterfield’s quietly stone-banded chapel at Balliol of 1857 is that college’s
+happiest feature, the rest being largely the work of Waterhouse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since Keble was founded by Butterfield’s pious High Church friends for clerical
+students, the chapel, which was added to the group in 1873-6, understandably dominates
+the whole. Tall and richly decorated, this has many of Butterfield’s virtues, but it quite
+lacks the directness and the poignance of his best work of the fifties and early sixties.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>The hall and library are less monumental than the chapel, fitting more easily into the
+ranges of sets that surround the two quadrangles. The over-all composition is fairly
+regular, and there is less coarse or fussy detailing than Scott and Waterhouse used for
+their ‘Collegiate Gothic’. Moreover, the scale of Keble is modestly domestic and,
+despite its considerable size, the features are simple and crisp; but in the relatively clean
+air of Oxford Butterfield’s polychromy has received less of the desirable mellowing
+than it gets in London. The banded walls certainly lack the harmony that the softer
+colours of the materials used in his country church interiors generally produced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the time Keble was completed—indeed in advanced circles well before it was
+begun—such polychromatic brashness was out of date. Yet at Rugby School, where
+Butterfield’s buildings of 1868-72 awkwardly adjoin various earlier nineteenth-century
+Gothic structures, the polychromy is even louder; moreover, it is still less mellowed by
+time. Although Butterfield lived on through the rest of the century and continued to
+build many churches and some schools, this first and boldest of High Victorian Gothic
+architects was more and more left behind after the mid sixties by the evolving taste of
+his own High Church milieu.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There are other High Victorian Gothic collegiate groups which are, or would have
+been if carried to completion, far finer than Keble. Being at less renowned institutions
+than Oxford, they are less well known. University College on the sea-front at
+Aberystwyth in Wales is by J. P. Seddon (1827-1906), from 1852 to 1862 a partner
+of John Prichard. This structure was begun in 1864 to serve as a hotel, incorporating as
+its most inappropriate nucleus a small Castellated villa built by Nash for Uvedale Price
+in the 1780s. The failure of the hotel project, the slow and faltering start of the college,
+and the necessary repair and rebuilding after two fires have left a complex pile of most
+disparate character, even though it is almost all by Seddon. But certain aspects of the
+building, the bowed section on the sea-front—originally the hotel bar, later the college
+chapel!—and the entrance and stair tower on the rear are among the grandest and most
+boldly plastic fragments produced in this period (Plate <a href='#pl091a'>91<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Neither Oxford nor Cambridge
+has anything of comparable quality.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For Trinity College in Hartford, Conn., Burges prepared in 1873 a splendid plan
+worthy of its fine new site on a high ridge south of the city (Plate <a href='#pl088'>88</a>). Unfortunately
+only one side of one quadrangle was finished according to his designs; but that is perhaps
+the most satisfactory of all his works, and the best example anywhere of Victorian Gothic
+collegiate architecture. The brownstone from nearby Portland, Conn., favourite
+material all over the eastern states during what Lewis Mumford has called the ‘Brown
+Decades’, is especially well suited to Burges’s heavy and well-articulated detail. The
+rough quarry-facing of the random ashlar contrasts tonally with the more smoothly cut
+trim in a fashion that is polytonal if not polychromatic. The roughness of the stone walls
+also enhances the massive proportions of the long dormitory range and of the paired
+towers with their boldly pyramidal roofs. Yet for the classrooms this masonry is articulated
+into banks of large mullioned windows. Despite the general regularity and even
+symmetry of the composition, there is plenty of functionally logical variety in the
+handling of the different sections. Burges was happy in the Scottish-born Hartford
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>architect who supervised the work, G. W. Keller (1842-1935); and Keller revealed his
+continued debt to Burges in the construction of a Memorial Arch in the park in Hartford
+which is one of the very few examples of such a Classical monument completely
+translated into Gothic terms, and not without real interest.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Burges undoubtedly enjoyed more what he did for the Marquess of Bute, beginning
+in 1865, in restoring Cardiff Castle and Castell Coch in Wales. ‘Restoring’ should be
+put in quotation marks, for by the time Burges got through with them both were
+almost as much fake castles as any built in the first half of the century. They lie somewhere
+between Fonthill Abbey and Peckforton in intention and are considerably more
+sumptuous internally than either. Although Cardiff Castle, which had been subjected to
+drastic Georgian remodelling, was gradually re-castellated with considerable consistency,
+the work there never reached completion. It is chiefly the incredibly rich interiors
+that are of interest, even if the interest is of a rather theatrical order.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Castell Coch near Llandaff, restored in 1875, interiors of equal fantasy, almost
+comparable to those of Neuschwanstein; that is, they are more like settings for Wagnerian
+opera than anything the Middle Ages actually created. But the quality of the
+imagination and of the execution is of a very much higher order than Ludwig II commanded.
+Externally Castell Coch is a sober and plausible restoration-reconstruction
+of a smallish castle, chiefly of archaeological interest, but most romantically sited and
+solidly built. Beside its integrity the more famous restorations by Viollet-le-Duc at
+Pierrefonds and Carcassonne appear rather harsh, and obviously modern.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The McConochie house, built in Cardiff for Lord Bute’s estate agent, is one of the
+best medium-sized stone dwellings of the High Victorian Gothic, superior in almost
+every way to Burges’s own house at 9 Melbury Road in London. That was built later,
+in 1875-80, by which time the operatic medievalism of the interiors was quite out of
+date (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). Here in the Cardiff house the tight asymmetrical composition,
+the excellent detailing of the handsome stonework, and a generally domestic rather
+than Castellated air prepared the way for Burges’s fine collegiate work in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>English architects in the sixties were capable of exploiting a wide range of different
+aspects of the High Victorian Gothic in almost precisely the same years. Only the size
+and departmentalized organization of G. G. Scott’s office, the largest of the period and
+more like the ‘plan-factories’ of the twentieth century (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>), can explain
+how he could be nominally responsible for such a quiet, well-scaled, and advanced
+church as St Andrew’s, Derby, designed in 1866—some say by Micklethwaite, who was
+working for him at the time—and also for such a strident, complex, and over-elaborated
+edifice as the Midland Hotel fronting St Pancras Station. The design for this was prepared
+in 1865 for a competition held, curiously enough, two years after the shed had
+been begun by the engineers W. H. Barlow (1812-1902) and R. M. Ordish (1824-86).
+Such a drastic divorce of engineering and architecture could hardly be expected to produce
+a co-ordinated edifice, yet both aspects of St Pancras have considerable independent
+interest. The shed, ingeniously tied below the level of the tracks and rising, for purely
+coincidental technical reasons, to a flattened point of slightly ‘Gothic’ outline, has the
+widest span of any in the British Isles and, until the nineties, in the world. It is, therefore,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>a nineteenth-century spatial achievement of quantitative, if not so much of qualitative,
+significance. The masonry block at the front is one of the largest High Victorian
+Gothic structures in the world. It long had ardent admirers, and it has come to have
+them again, for it epitomizes almost as notably as the Albert Memorial the aspirations of
+Scott and his generation. The contrast to its neighbour, Lewis Cubitt’s Kings Cross
+Station, begun some fifteen years earlier, or even to Paddington, where the engineer
+Brunel and the architect Wyatt collaborated so happily, is striking. The taste of English
+railway authorities, as of most patrons of architecture, had been revolutionized by the
+general triumph of the High Victorian Gothic in the late fifties and early sixties. Yet on
+its completion in the mid seventies St Pancras was even more out of fashion in advanced
+circles than were Street’s Law Courts, the construction of which only began at that time,
+so rapidly did taste continue to change in the late sixties and early seventies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By 1870 church architecture, for example, was in general much chastened. Externally
+Teulon’s St Stephen’s, The Green, on Rosslyn Hill in Hampstead of 1869-76 is not polychromatic
+but all of purple-brown brick with some creamy stone trim. It builds up,
+moreover, somewhat like Shaw’s Bingley church begun a few years earlier, to a tall
+rectangular crossing tower with rather quiet, more or less ‘Early French’, membering.
+Inside Teulon achieved in the brickwork a kind of golden harmony of tone resembling
+that of White’s interior in St Saviour’s, Aberdeen Park, completely eschewing the bold
+and almost savage patterns of contrastingly coloured bricks he had favoured since the
+early fifties. In the tremendously tall interior of Edmund Scott’s already mentioned St
+Bartholomew’s, Brighton—aisleless, chancel-less, and provided with broad, flat
+internal buttresses—the traces of brick polychromy are hardly noticeable on the walls of
+a space so grandly proportioned (Plate <a href='#pl093b'>93<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The later ciborium here is not by Scott.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Burges in the two Yorkshire churches which he began in 1871 at Skelton and at
+Studley Royal, both near Ripon, the latter with a very fine rectory near by, still aimed
+at a rather satiating luxury of both coloured and sculptural decoration in the interiors.
+But Pearson at St Augustine’s, Kilburn Park Road, in London, initiated at this time a
+new line of vast plain churches (Plate <a href='#pl093a'>93<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). That line would culminate in the archaeological
+correctness of his Truro Cathedral in Cornwall, started in 1880 and finally
+completed by his son (F. L., 1864-1947) in the present century. His last work, the
+cathedral of Brisbane, Australia, designed shortly before his death in 1897, was only
+begun by his son in 1901.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As Pearson’s Kilburn church was built in 1870-80, it should perhaps more properly be
+considered Late Victorian than High. But Pearson retained here and to the end of his
+life, particularly in his tall towers and spires, a truly High Victorian love of grand and
+bold effects. However archaeological he became, and with his passion for rib-vaulting
+he could from this time on be rather more archaeological in a Franco-English way than
+Viollet-le-Duc in France or Cuijpers in Holland, his spaces are usually nobly proportioned
+and his masses crisply composed no matter how ‘correctly’ they are membered.
+At Truro, where the cathedral rises suddenly out of narrow streets, its granite still
+almost unweathered, Pearson’s handling of the relationship of the three tall towers
+carries vigorous plastic conviction; Burges had attempted the same effect at Cork with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>rather less success when the High Victorian was still at its highest. Brisbane Cathedral is
+plainer and tougher than Truro despite its very late date.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It would be inappropriate in this chapter to carry the story of Victorian Gothic much
+further. Scott and Street died in 1878 and 1881 respectively, though Butterfield and
+Bodley outlived Pearson. Butterfield seems to have frozen for life in the mode of his
+early maturity, and as a result produced ever feebler work after the mid sixties; Pearson
+was able to maintain a leading position with a younger generation grown chaster and
+more archaeological in its standards without forsaking his pursuit of those more abstractly
+architectonic values which give distinction to his earlier work. It was above all
+Bodley, however, with his Late Decorated verging on Perpendicular, who set the pace
+in Anglican church-architecture from this time forward. His personal style, still tentative
+at All Saints, Cambridge, in the mid sixties, was mature by the time he built St
+Augustine’s at Pendlebury in Lancashire in 1870-4. Crisp and almost mechanical in its
+detailing, this tall rectangular mass, buttressed by an internal arcade, is impressive both
+inside and out (Plate <a href='#pl092b'>92<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), yet it wholly abjures most of the qualities that had for two
+decades given special vitality to English Neo-Gothic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With various modulations what might, rather ambiguously, be called ‘Bodleian
+Gothic’ remained the favourite of Anglicans in and out of England well into the twentieth
+century. The continuing admiration for the work of Sir Ninian Comper (1864-1960)
+in certain milieus suggests that it has not even yet been finally superseded; but much of
+Comper’s large-scale work dates from before Bodley’s death in 1907. For example, his
+principal London church, St Cyprian’s in Glentworth Street, was built in 1903. This
+crisp and clean example of revived Late Gothic, with its elegant gilt font-cover and
+screen, may wind up this account more appropriately than the vast unfinished cathedral
+at Liverpool begun by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott (1880-1960), a grandson of the first G. G.
+Scott, in 1903. But neither is Victorian Gothic; both are rather manifestations of one
+aspect of twentieth-century ‘traditionalism’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>
+  <h2 id='ch11' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 11</span><br />LATER NEO-GOTHIC OUTSIDE ENGLAND</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> High Victorian Gothic produced in the United States no such roster of distinguished—or
+at least prominent and highly characteristic—monuments as in Britain. The period
+of its florescence was much briefer, and few assured and sophisticated talents came to the
+fore. If, in the case of Richardson, one such did appear, his maturity came only in the
+mid seventies, when the High Victorian Gothic was all but over. Why the period was so
+much shorter in the United States, in effect only the decade 1865-75, is not altogether
+clear. One reason, undoubtedly, is that the speed of transmission of new architectural
+ideas from England to America had increased so much by the seventies that the influence
+of the later English mode which succeeded the High Victorian Gothic around
+1870 reached America very promptly indeed (see Chapters <a href='#ch13'>13</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Another quite
+different reason is that a wave of nationalism in America, parallel to those current in
+North European countries at the time, encouraged from the mid seventies developments
+that were more autochthonous. Leadership in commercial and in domestic architecture
+crossed the Atlantic almost precisely at the moment when, in 1876, the centenary<a id="r235"></a><a href='#f235' class='c025'><sup>[235]</sup></a> of
+American political independence was being celebrated.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The phenomenal success in the United States of Ruskin’s treatises, <i>The Seven Lamps
+of Architecture</i> of 1849 and <i>The Stones of Venice</i><a id="r236"></a><a href='#f236' class='c025'><sup>[236]</sup></a> of 1851-3, should be emphasized; from
+1855 Street’s <i>Brick and Marble Architecture</i> was also available. Yet, despite the warm reception
+of such relevant writings, few reflections of the High Victorian Gothic can be discerned
+in American production before 1860. The first is probably the Nott Memorial
+Library<a id="r237"></a><a href='#f237' class='c025'><sup>[237]</sup></a> at Union College, Schenectady, N.Y., designed by Edward T. Potter (1831-1904)
+in 1856 and built in 1858-76. Here the banded arches are pointed and the plan is
+circular, perhaps in emulation of the Pisa Baptistery to which Ruskin had called attention,
+but more probably in deference to Ramée’s general plan for the college (see Chapter <a href='#ch01'>1</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The years immediately following the Panic of 1857 and, quite understandably, the
+Civil War years 1861-5 were relatively unproductive of new buildings, as has already
+been noted. An edifice far more overtly Ruskinian than Potter’s Library was the
+National Academy in New York, built by Peter B. Wight (1838-1925) in 1863-5,
+although apparently first designed as early as 1861. Its Venetian Gothic mode, with
+pointed arches boldly banded and walls diapered in coloured stones, was still the subject
+of considerable contemporary controversy as it would hardly have been in England by
+this date.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Potter and Wight were both young men. Established Gothic Revivalists in America
+did not swing over as rapidly as in England from the Early Victorian to the High.
+Upjohn, Potter’s master, was no Butterfield; Renwick when designing St Patrick’s
+Cathedral in New York in 1859 followed contemporary Continental rather than
+English models, as has been noted, presumably because his clients were Catholics.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>At best the sort of High Church Anglican patronage which sponsored Butterfield’s
+and Street’s innovations in England was relatively much less important in the United
+States—or Canada and Australia, for that matter. Enthusiasm for the High Victorian
+Gothic, although widespread in the later sixties and early seventies, was rarely exclusive
+as is evidenced by the disparate interests and activities of the members of the prominent
+and successful firm of Ware &amp; Van Brunt. It has already been noted that when William
+Robert Ware founded in 1865 the first American architectural school at the Massachusetts
+Institute of Technology in Boston, he based its instruction on that of the Paris
+École des Beaux-Arts.<a id="r238"></a><a href='#f238' class='c025'><sup>[238]</sup></a> His partner Henry Van Brunt (1832-1903) was one of the first
+to follow Richardson’s lead away from the High Victorian Gothic in the seventies. So
+little were either of them dyed-in-the-wool Gothicists in these decades.<a id="r239"></a><a href='#f239' class='c025'><sup>[239]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, Ware &amp; Van Brunt designed and built in Cambridge, Mass., one of the
+largest and most conspicuous of mature High Victorian Gothic edifices in America,
+Memorial Hall<a id="r240"></a><a href='#f240' class='c025'><sup>[240]</sup></a> at Harvard College, first projected in the late sixties and erected in
+1870-8. This somewhat cathedral-like edifice has walls of red brick liberally lashed with
+black and a massive central tower now denuded by fire of its high roof (Plate <a href='#pl095a'>95<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+The manner is more than a little Butterfieldian, but the quality is not even up to G. G.
+Scott.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before Memorial Hall was designed, a competition held in 1865 for the First Church
+(Unitarian) in Boston in the new Back Bay residential district had brought out a
+variety of rather feeble attempts by Boston architects to follow the High Victorian
+Gothic line. The winning design of Ware &amp; Van Brunt, executed in 1865-7, while not
+of the wilder Low Church order of Teulon’s or Keeling’s London work of these years,
+is hardly comparable to Street’s or Butterfield’s, much less to the contemporary production
+of younger architects such as Brooks, Bodley, or Shaw. Its best feature is the
+material, the richly mottled and textured local Puddingstone from nearby Roxbury.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The High Victorian Gothic of the sixties and early seventies in the United States was
+no more restricted to the ecclesiastical field than in England. Despite its churchy look,
+Memorial Hall served a variety of secular purposes from refectory to concert hall; only
+the wide transeptal lobby was strictly memorial in purpose. But there was rarely even
+such relative devotion to the Gothic in this period in the United States as the major
+works of Ware &amp; Van Brunt display. For example, the untutored Elbridge Boyden
+(1810-98), best known for introducing the cast-iron commercial front into New England
+in 1854, could build two buildings for the Polytechnic Institute of Worcester, Mass.,
+in the same year 1866 of which one, the Washburn Machine Shop, is mansarded with
+crude, vaguely Second Empire, detailing; while the other, Boynton Hall, is in a very
+provincial sort of High Victorian Gothic. Hunt, product of a Parisian education, designed
+the Yale Divinity School in New Haven in 1869 in a frenzied, rather Teulonian,
+Gothic; while in his precisely contemporary Lenox Library in New York, built in 1869-77,
+he followed closely and with some dignity French, if not specifically Second Empire,
+models.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is not really surprising, therefore, that Richardson, returning from Paris and the
+École des Beaux-Arts at the end of the Civil War and entering a competition for a new
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>Unitarian church to be built at Springfield, Mass., offered a High Victorian Gothic
+project that seems to derive rather directly from the work of Keeling and other Low
+Church English practitioners. What <i>is</i> surprising, however, considering the lack of
+special interest to later eyes in his Unity Church as executed in 1866-8, is the fact that
+he won the competition! The warm colour and texture of the rock-faced brownstone
+from nearby Longmeadow laid up in random ashlar, a certain masculine scale in the
+details, and an attempt at least at a boldly asymmetrical composition evidently struck
+his contemporaries as very promising, however. (The church was demolished in 1961.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not in the Unity Church, but in Richardson’s second church, Grace Episcopal,
+in Medford, Mass., happily still extant, of 1867-8, that one recognizes strong personal
+expression. The more massively pyramidal character of the asymmetrical composition
+and, above all, the great boulders of which the walls are built, with heavy trim of
+rough quarry-faced granite, announce an original approach (Plate <a href='#pl091b'>91<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Yet this approach
+was evidently still nurtured on the English High Victorian Gothic models that
+Richardson knew through the wood engravings in imported periodicals. It is even
+specific enough here so that one can describe this Medford church as Burgessy rather
+than Butterfieldian or Street-like; it is certainly no longer Keelingesque like the church
+in Springfield. Incidentally, when Richardson visited England in 1882 it was the work
+of Burges, who had just died, that he went out of his way to see—by that time, however,
+he found it rather disappointing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Richardson’s first churches were Gothic, his Western Railway Office at Springfield,
+built in 1867 for a client associated with the Unity Church commission, was generically
+Second Empire. Yet this was still more directly derived from current English work that
+was closely related to that mode, notably the Francis Brothers’ National Discount
+Building of 1857 in the City of London, than from anything Parisian. His brick and
+stone Dorsheimer<a id="r241"></a><a href='#f241' class='c025'><sup>[241]</sup></a> house of 1868 in Delaware Avenue in Buffalo, N.Y., is also Second
+Empire rather than Victorian Gothic, but very restrainedly so, and hence rather more
+French in effect. Other work by Richardson dating from the late sixties, such as the
+B. H. Crowninshield house in Marlborough Street in Boston of 1868-9, was more experimental
+in design, often recalling wild English work of the early years of the decade.
+Although built of wood and of very modest size, Richardson’s most interesting house
+of this period was the one that he built for himself in 1868 at Arrochar on Staten Island
+near New York.<a id="r242"></a><a href='#f242' class='c025'><sup>[242]</sup></a> This combines the use of a high mansarded pavilion with a sort of
+imitation half-timbering related to the contemporary American ‘Stick Style’ (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Farnam Hall at Yale College in New Haven (Plate <a href='#pl096a'>96<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), begun in 1869, the German-trained
+Russell Sturgis (1836-1909),<a id="r243"></a><a href='#f243' class='c025'><sup>[243]</sup></a> who had been for a time Wight’s partner,
+somehow arrived at an almost Webb-like—or at least Brooks-like—simplicity and
+sophistication of late High Victorian Gothic design, in marked contrast to the stridency
+of Hunt’s precisely contemporary Divinity School there. This, however, is almost
+unique. The most characteristic work of the day was produced by such home-trained
+architects as Ware &amp; Van Brunt, Wight, Edward T. Potter, and his younger brother
+William A. Potter (1842-1909).<a id="r244"></a><a href='#f244' class='c025'><sup>[244]</sup></a> Wight’s National Academy in New York has been
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>mentioned. His Mercantile Library in Brooklyn, N.Y., completed in 1869, of red brick
+with ranges of pointed-arched windows regularly but asymmetrically disposed, is
+similar—and not inferior—to much of G. G. Scott’s secular work. Edward T. Potter’s
+Union College Library has also been mentioned. His Harvard Church in Brookline,
+Mass., of 1873-5 is more conventional for its period. Largely renewed internally after
+being gutted by a fire in 1931, this shows how effectively such American materials as
+the popular brownstone from Portland, Conn., and the light-coloured Berea sandstone
+from Ohio, enlivened by accents of livid green serpentine from Pennsylvania, could
+produce a polychromy richer and more enduring than the endemic Butterfieldian or
+Teulonian red brick, with banding of bricks dipped in black tar, that had been in general
+use for a decade. Along this line Richardson himself followed for a while (see Chapter
+13). At the same time William A. Potter, who became very briefly Supervising Architect
+in Washington in succession to Mullet in 1875, produced a few post offices, such as
+the one in Pittsfield, Mass., that are characteristic but not very distinguished examples of
+secular High Victorian Gothic executed in stone. (Both Potters, however, gave up
+the High Victorian Gothic to accept Richardson’s leadership within the next few years.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Boston &amp; Albany Railroad station in Worcester built by Ware &amp; Van Brunt
+in 1875-7, with its tall and striking tower and its vast segmental-pointed arches at the
+ends of the shed, provides one of the happiest illustrations of what the rather illiterate
+approach of even the most highly trained Eastern architects of this period could
+produce. By working in an almost primitive way, along lines suggested by the half-understood
+work of the bolder English innovators, something was often achieved of
+which few Continental architects were capable in this period. In less sophisticated hands,
+whether of provincial architects or of builders, the results were naturally still cruder,
+though sometimes equally vital and fresh. In church design,<a id="r245"></a><a href='#f245' class='c025'><sup>[245]</sup></a> where ecclesiological control
+of planning was not accepted outside the Episcopal denomination, galleried
+auditorium schemes with rows of exposed iron columns were often executed with a
+violence of polychromy and a gawkiness of notched detailing that exceeded Teulon or
+Keeling at their most extreme. One of the most prominent extant examples is the
+squarish New Old South Church at Copley Square in the Back Bay district of Boston,
+built in 1874-5 by Charles A. Cummings (1833-1905) and his partner Sears in 1875-7.
+Its impressive tower resembling an Italian campanile has now been much reduced in
+height and chastened in silhouette.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even more extreme than most churches, but of the highest quality, is the intensely
+personal work of Frank Furness (1839-1912)<a id="r246"></a><a href='#f246' class='c025'><sup>[246]</sup></a> in Philadelphia. His building for the
+Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Broad Street was erected in 1872-6 in preparation
+for the Centennial Exhibition. The exterior has a largeness of scale and a vigour in
+the detailing that would be notable anywhere, and the galleries are top-lit with exceptional
+efficiency. Still more original and impressive were his banks, even though they
+lay quite off the main line of development of commercial architecture in this period
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). The most extraordinary of these, and Furness’s masterpiece, was the
+Provident Institution in Walnut Street, built as late as 1879 (Plate <a href='#pl095b'>95<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This was most
+unfortunately demolished in the Philadelphia urban renewal campaign several years ago,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>but the gigantic and forceful scale of the granite membering alone should have justified
+its respectful preservation. The interior,<a id="r247"></a><a href='#f247' class='c025'><sup>[247]</sup></a> entirely lined with patterned tiles, was of
+rather later character than the façade and eventually much cluttered with later intrusions,
+but it was equally fine in its own way originally. Later work by Furness is of less
+interest, and his big Broad Street Station of 1892-4 has also been demolished. No small
+part of Furness’s historical significance lies in the fact that the young Louis Sullivan
+picked this office—then known as Furness &amp; Hewitt—to work in for a short period after
+he left Ware’s school in Boston. As Sullivan’s <i>Autobiography of an Idea</i> testifies, the vitality
+and originality of Furness meant more to him than what he was taught at the Massachusetts
+Institute of Technology, or later at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the realm of house-design the more-or-less Gothic-based ‘Stick Style’ represented
+a largely autochthonous American development not without considerable significance
+and interest (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). In public architecture there was little serious achievement
+even at the hands of English-trained architects such as Calvert Vaux (1824-95) and his
+partner F. C. Withers (1828-1901)<a id="r248"></a><a href='#f248' class='c025'><sup>[248]</sup></a> or second-generation Gothicists like Upjohn’s son
+(Richard M., 1828-1903). The younger Upjohn’s Connecticut State Capitol<a id="r249"></a><a href='#f249' class='c025'><sup>[249]</sup></a> in Hartford
+begun in 1873, the only major American example of a High Victorian Gothic
+public monument of any great pretension or luxury of materials, is singularly vulgar
+and stylistically ambiguous, with its completely symmetrical massing and its tall central
+dome, compared to Burges’s contemporary project for Trinity College there.<a id="r250"></a><a href='#f250' class='c025'><sup>[250]</sup></a> Doubtless
+G. G. Scott would not have disdained it, even so!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Still more comparable to Scott’s own thwarted ambitions for a High Victorian Gothic
+governmental architecture, which led him as late as the seventies to enter various Continental
+competitions, is an earlier group of buildings in the New World outside the
+United States, the Parliament House (Plate <a href='#pl097a'>97<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and associated structures at Ottawa,
+Canada, designed by Fuller &amp; Jones and Stent &amp; Laver in 1859 and built in 1861-7.
+F. W. Stent had come out from England some considerable time before this, having last
+exhibited at the Royal Academy in London in 1846. Thomas Fuller (1822-98), also
+English, had settled in Toronto in 1856. Of their respective partners, Augustus Laver
+(1839-98) and Herbert Chilion Jones (1836-1923), less is known. In the course of the work
+Fuller and Laver joined forces, moving on shortly to the United States, as has been noted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The main block at Ottawa, which was by the first-named firm, has been rebuilt after
+a fire in the present century in a considerably chastened vein, except for the big chapterhouse-like
+library at the rear, which is original. But the variety of form, the gusto of the
+detail, and the urbanistic scale of this project made of the Dominion Capitol a major
+monumental group unrivalled for extent and complexity of organization in England.<a id="r251"></a><a href='#f251' class='c025'><sup>[251]</sup></a>
+The buildings flanking the vast lawn extending in front of the Parliament House are by
+Stent &amp; Laver. These are somewhat less exuberant in scale and more provincial in the
+character of their detailing than the Parliament House was originally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most of the Neo-Gothic in Canada up to this time is more properly to be considered
+Early rather than High Victorian (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). An exception to this, perhaps, is
+University College in Toronto, designed in 1856 by F. W. Cumberland (1821-81), who
+had come out from England in 1847. Yet its rich and rather bombastic Norman design
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>is closer to English work of the earlier decades of the century than to the round-arched
+Ruskinian Gothic of the fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Australia, the other major British Dominion, had nothing comparable to Canada to
+offer in this period. Wardell’s English, Scottish, and Australian Bank in Melbourne is a
+passable example of secular High Victorian Gothic but no more than that. St John
+Evangelist’s, which he built at Toorak south of Melbourne in 1860-73, is handsomer
+but very simple—still almost Puginian, indeed—and all of monochrome ashlar. The
+enormous Catholic cathedral of Melbourne, St Patrick’s, which Wardell began in 1860,
+is more Continental in character, with two west towers like Renwick’s St Patrick’s in
+New York and also a tall crossing tower completed only in 1939. The Catholic cathedral
+of Adelaide, St Francis Xavier’s, begun in 1870 and still without its intended western
+spires, reputedly goes back to a design prepared by Pugin before his death in 1852.
+But even the later design of his son E. W. Pugin, on which the executed work was
+actually based, must have been much modified over the years by W. H. Bagot (b. 1880),
+H. H. Jory (b. 1880), and Lewis Laybourne-Smith (b. 1888), who successively supervised
+the job. It is certainly no happier an example of High Victorian Gothic than Wardell’s
+Catholic cathedral in Melbourne.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Anglican cathedral in Melbourne, St Paul’s, having been begun in 1850 from designs
+by Butterfield, ought to be finer. But Butterfield had made the drawings as early
+as 1847, before even he was a High Victorian, and the laggard execution of the church
+by Joseph Reed evidently entailed much modification of the original designs. Moreover,
+the spires by John Barr date only from 1934. For the very late Anglican cathedral
+at Brisbane, St John’s, perhaps the finest of the lot, which was begun in 1901 by
+F. L. Pearson from earlier designs by his father J. L. Pearson as has already been mentioned,
+Butterfield had also prepared designs in 1884.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The architecture of the Dominions remained Colonial in spirit, as these notes on a few
+Australian churches indicate, well into the present century. First the able Frank Wills,
+moreover, the English-born architect of Montreal Cathedral, and then Fuller &amp; Laver
+were drawn away from Canada to the United States, where opportunities were greater.
+Despite the great interest of the Government Buildings at Ottawa, it was in the United
+States rather than the British Dominions that the High Victorian Gothic proved a
+stimulus to such highly original achievement as Furness’s in the seventies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The High Victorian Gothic episode in American architecture balanced almost precisely
+the Second Empire episode. Both were disowned, even by many of their most
+successful protagonists, by the mid seventies. It was the Gothic, however, that prepared
+the way for the more original developments of the last quarter of the century; as has
+already been stated, those who had practised chiefly in the Second Empire mode continued
+to take their lead from Paris. Yet there are paradoxes in the situation which must
+not be ignored. Richardson, the most creative new force in the seventies and eighties,
+continually urged young aspirants to an architectural career to study at the École des
+Beaux-Arts as he had done. Charles F. McKim (1847-1909), Richardson’s first really able
+assistant, was Paris-trained; partly because of that training, it was he who became in
+the mid eighties the leader of the reaction against the Richardsonian. Sullivan, the first
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>truly great modern architect not alone of America but of the whole western world, was
+also in part Paris-trained, even though he was always highly critical of the doctrine of
+the École and much stimulated by Furness. Finally, it was even more the later writings
+of the French Viollet-le-Duc than those of the English Ruskin that encouraged bold and
+imaginative thinking about architecture in America in the seventies and eighties when
+his <i>Entretiens</i> became available in translation and were first widely read.<a id="r252"></a><a href='#f252' class='c025'><sup>[252]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Were this a history of architectural thought rather than of architecture—that is of what
+was actually <i>built</i> in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries—Viollet-le-Duc would play
+a much larger part. But his production,<a id="r253"></a><a href='#f253' class='c025'><sup>[253]</sup></a> while not negligible, is curiously ambiguous.
+His many ‘restorations’ are no contribution to nineteenth-century architecture; rather
+they represent a serious diminution of authenticity in the great monuments of the past
+subjected to his ministrations. These include most notably Notre-Dame in Paris, the
+refurbishing of which he continued alone after the death of Lassus in 1857, and the
+Château de Pierrefonds, Oise, the rebuilding of which began the next year and continued
+down to his death in 1879; but the whole list is very long indeed, including Carcassonne,
+Vézelay, and Saint-Denis, to mention only some of the best known things.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Viollet-le-Duc’s new parish church for the suburb of St-Denis, Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée
+in the Boulevard Jules Guesde, built in 1864-7, has considerable interest, however. Unlike
+most English High Victorian Gothic churches, it is vaulted throughout; but the
+vaulting does not have that look of a student exercise which characterizes Lassus’s at
+Saint-Jean-de-Belleville in Paris of the previous decade. The broad square bays of the
+nave are well lighted by groups of lancets in the clerestory, and there is a sturdy sort of
+articulation of the elements not unlike that in the early work of Burges (Plate <a href='#pl098'>98</a>). Externally
+the rather complex plan, with a large rectangular Lady Chapel projecting behind
+the altar, produces a gawky and confused composition; but the detailing is simple
+and virile as in the interior. A massive western tower rises over the entrance porch, culminating
+in a tall slated roof rather than a stone spire. But the plate tracery of the large
+west window over the porch and the lancets of the stage above are stony enough and
+have a quite Street-like scale and vigour of form. It is perhaps unfortunate that Viollet-le-Duc
+built so few new churches; certainly most other French Neo-Gothic work is
+very inferior to this, as such a large and prominent church as Saint-Epvre at Nancy,
+begun in 1863 by M.-P. Morey (1805-78), a pupil of Leclerc, well illustrates.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In secular work Viollet-le-Duc was too often content to follow the current Second
+Empire mode with a good deal of the eclecticism, but little of the plastic boldness, of the
+English and the Americans. Such more or less Gothic blocks of flats as those that he built
+in the late fifties and sixties in the Rue de Condorcet and at 15 Rue de Douai in Paris are
+somewhat more comparable to the secular High Victorian Gothic in
+England (Plate <a href='#pl101a'>101<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). These are certainly praiseworthy for
+the urbanistic politeness with which they fit
+between more conventional Second Empire neighbours despite their distinctly ‘Victorian’
+detail,<a id="r254"></a><a href='#f254' class='c025'><sup>[254]</sup></a> but there is little originality of conception. On paper Viollet-le-Duc
+later showed great boldness, however, in certain projects proposing the use of metal
+structural elements that he published with the second volume of the <i>Entretiens</i> (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>In the late fifties and sixties the vigour of the ‘Early French’ detailing of certain English
+architects and a related logic of structural expression then called ‘real’ was often
+derived in part from a study of Viollet-le-Duc’s <i>Dictionnaire</i>. But Shaw’s book of
+<i>Continental Sketches</i> of 1858 and Nesfield’s similar book of 1862 make evident how intense
+and how idiosyncratic was their own first-hand study of medieval work across the
+channel. Certainly the ‘Early French’ detail of the English leaders is generally of higher
+quality than even Viollet-le-Duc’s best at Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If there was very little Gothic work done in the third quarter of the century in France
+comparable in quality or in interest to that of the Anglo-Saxon countries, yet there was
+a general movement there away from the somewhat mincing attitudes of the forties and
+early fifties. Just as the Medieval Revival in America, considered in a broad sense, came
+to its climax in the mature work of Richardson (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>)—which is much more
+Romanesque than Gothic in so far as it leans at all on the past—in France the Romanesquoid
+work of Vaudremer represents the highest achievement of the period in a non-Renaissance
+mode (Plate <a href='#pl072a'>72<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The same may even be said up to a point of most of the
+other countries of Europe. Yet the Germanic <i>Rundbogenstil</i> of the third quarter of the
+century was, for all the size, prominence, and elaboration of such public monuments as
+Waesemann’s Berlin City Hall or Hansen’s Vienna Waffenmuseum and the real excellence
+of Herholdt’s Danish work, already a sinking rather than a rising mode.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Germany and Austria more Neo-Gothic edifices, both secular and ecclesiastical,
+were built after 1850 than before; several of them have already been mentioned. These
+are, however, rather examples of contemporary eclecticism than of a concerted movement.
+In addition to his school and his Rathaus, however, Schmidt built in Vienna some
+eight Gothic churches ranging in date from the Lazaristenkirche of 1860-2 to the
+Severinkirche of 1877-8. Most of them are brick-vaulted hall-churches—that is, of the
+characteristic medieval German plan and section, with aisles of the same height as the
+nave. However, the largest and most interesting, the Fünfhaus Parish Church of 1868-75,
+is centrally planned. This is an aisled octagon rising to a ribbed dome with hexagonal
+chapels grouped around the irregularly polygonal apse (Plate <a href='#pl099b'>99<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The spatial complexity
+of the interior is of real interest, and the walls are painted to suggest polychromatic
+brickwork of almost English brashness. Two front towers flanking the gabled entrance
+bay are set close against the dome to provide a very Baroque sort of composition—this
+is really, therefore, a sort of Sant’ Agnese in Agone or Karlskirche carried out with a
+G. G. Scott vocabulary of Neo-Gothic elements.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Hungary the eighties saw a very belated manifestation of secular Neo-Gothic.
+The Parliament House, begun in 1883 by Imre Steindl (1839-1902) and completed in
+1902, was surely inspired by Barry’s in London begun nearly a half-century earlier, but
+in character it is (not surprisingly) more like Schmidt’s Vienna Rathaus. Thus did outlying
+countries in the later decades of the century continue to take up modes long obsolescent
+in the major architectural centres.<a id="r255"></a><a href='#f255' class='c025'><sup>[255]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Gothic of C. F. Arnold (1823-90) at Dresden, as seen in his secular Kreuzschule
+of 1864-5 or the two-towered Sophienkirche of the same years, is inferior to Schmidt’s,
+both in command of the idiom and in architectonic organization, as indeed is most such
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>German work of these decades. The Johanniskirche in Dresden of 1874-8 by G. L.
+Möckel (1838-1915), however, has a rather fine tower set in the transeptal position
+so much favoured in Victorian England. This is bold in scale and carefully detailed
+in a literate twelfth-century—not to say ‘Early French’—way much as Burges or
+Pearson might have designed it in England. More characteristic of German work of
+these decades is the Munich Rathaus, built in 1867-74 by G. J. von Hauberrisser (1841-1922)
+and extended by him in 1899-1909. Excessively spiky, this seems almost to have
+borrowed back from G. G. Scott the more Germanic features of his Broad Sanctuary
+terrace in London of fifteen years earlier. But the Neo-Gothic of the seventies and
+eighties in Germany is in general no more aggressive and gawky than the popular
+Meistersinger mode that revived so turgidly the forms of the Northern Renaissance (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Holland, which made almost no significant architectural contribution in the first half
+of the nineteenth century, now produced in P. J. H. Cuijpers (1827-1921) a sort of
+Dutch Viollet-le-Duc. In addition to undertaking important restorations, he built many
+vast new Gothic churches of brick which he exposed once more in reaction against the
+earlier nineteenth-century practice of stucco-coating. Cuijpers was learned and ambitious,
+and in such work he could be rather more original than Viollet-le-Duc in
+France, if less so perhaps than Schmidt in Austria. His Vondelkerk, a church of 1870
+near the Vondel Park in Amsterdam, is not centrally planned like Schmidt’s Fünfhaus
+church in Vienna, but he obtained a somewhat similar spatial effect by making the crossing
+octagonal. The brickwork of the piers and the vaults is very richly treated but in a
+fashion as much polytonal as polychromatic. The banding is in bricks of different sizes
+and textures rather than of different colours, and the result has something of the subtlety
+of the interior of White’s Aberdeen Park church in London.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A larger and later Amsterdam church by Cuijpers, the Maria Magdalenakerk in the
+Zaanstraat of 1887, is considerably more impressive, both inside and out. Occupying
+one of those narrow triangular sites so often assigned to important urban churches in this
+period, the exterior builds up grandly to the rather severe crossing tower at the rear. Inside,
+Cuijpers made the most of the difficulties of the site also. The east end is conventionally
+Gothic in plan, and the choir here is brick-vaulted, as is the Vondelkerk
+throughout. But the taller nave, covered with a wooden roof of ogival section, is much
+more effective spatially because of the way it is widened by triangular elements at the
+front where the aisles are cut off owing to the narrowing of the site (Plate <a href='#pl101b'>101<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The
+later painted decorations in this church are harmonious in tone with the brickwork, and
+the whole has a breadth of attack comparable to some of the best English churches of the
+seventies, such as Pearson’s in Kilburn or Edmund Scott’s St Bartholomew’s, Brighton,
+without resembling any of them very much.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Curiously enough for so dedicated a church-builder, Cuijpers’s secular work is more
+conspicuous, and hence better known, than are his churches. The two largest and most
+prominent nineteenth-century buildings of Amsterdam are both by him. In these, the
+Rijksmuseum built in 1877-85 (Plate <a href='#pl101c'>101<span class='fss'>C</span></a>) and the Central Station of 1881-9, he moved
+away from the emulation of thirteenth- or fourteenth-century ecclesiastical Gothic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>towards a more elastic sixteenth-century sort of design, rather similar to the English
+mode of these decades known as ‘Pont Street Dutch’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The similarity to the Northern Renaissance mode of this period in Germany is nearly
+as great, as also to such somewhat later Scandinavian buildings as Clason’s Northern
+Museum in Stockholm and Nyrop’s Town Hall in Copenhagen (Plate <a href='#pl173a'>173<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But Cuijpers’s
+touch is lighter than that of the Germans, and his precedent rather more Late
+Gothic than Mannerist, while his two chief works precede those that they most resemble
+in Sweden and Denmark by a decade or more. In both cases the frank incorporation of
+iron-and-glass elements is notable, a vast shed at the station and two almost equally vast
+covered courts in the museum. Above all, being the Gothic Revivalist he was, Cuijpers
+saw to it that the craftsmanship was excellent throughout; while his handling of scale,
+though ambiguous as in much work of these decades everywhere, is surprisingly successful.
+Both are very large buildings, placed in isolation where they can be seen from a distance
+and with carefully studied silhouettes varied by towers and other skyline features;
+yet the membering is delicate and almost domestic, quite as in the rather comparable
+English work of George (Plate <a href='#pl104b'>104<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) or Collcutt (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Italy projects of restoration led, as elsewhere, to the designing of certain fairly ambitious
+new façades in Gothic to complete medieval churches. The most conspicuous is
+that of the cathedral of Florence. After many abortive earlier moves, this was finally
+begun by Emilio de Fabris (1808-83) in 1866, when Florence became briefly the capital
+of Italy, and completed only in 1887. The earlier and less successful façade of Santa
+Croce in Florence had been carried out in 1857-63 by Niccoló Matas (1798-1872). It is
+characteristic of the international architectural scene in these decades that neither of these
+carefully archaeological compositions in polychrome Italian Gothic comes alive in the
+way that Italianate High Victorian Gothic often did in the hands of English architects,
+or even American ones, in the fifties and sixties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Churches were built for Anglicans in most of the principal cities of Europe in the mid
+nineteenth century, usually by English architects and always in Victorian Gothic.
+Sometimes, as in the case of the Crimean Memorial Church by Street<a id="r256"></a><a href='#f256' class='c025'><sup>[256]</sup></a> at Istanbul and
+Shaw’s English Church at Lyons, these were by the most distinguished English designers
+of the day, but more often they were by hacks who lived abroad and specialized
+in such work. Among the ‘English churches’ of this period that provided good samples
+of the High Victorian Gothic for foreigners—many were still to all intents and purposes
+Early Victorian—are two by Street<a id="r257"></a><a href='#f257' class='c025'><sup>[257]</sup></a> in Rome, one for the English community, the
+other not ‘English’ at all in fact but built for American Episcopalians. The former, All
+Saints’, in the Via del Babuino, with a much later tower not by Street, provides internally
+a moderately successful example of his later work, although it is unimpressive and
+largely invisible externally. It was begun in 1880, a year before Street’s death, and opened
+in 1885.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Far finer is St Paul’s, the American church, prominently located among the contemporary
+banks and blocks of flats of the Via Nazionale and built in 1873-6. Boldly banded
+in brick and stone and with a tall square campanile at the front corner, this is indeed a
+richer and more striking example of an Italian Gothic basilica than the Middle Ages ever
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>produced in Rome (Plate <a href='#pl100'>100</a>). The interior, with a rich apse mosaic by Burne-Jones
+on a glittering gold ground, has an originality and a coherence that is quite lacking in
+such Italian churches as were redecorated in the later nineteenth century. Late though
+this is in Street’s <i>œuvre</i>, it remains one of his best works.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the English High Victorian Gothic was to some extent an article of export—and,
+of course, this account has hardly touched on the vast outlying areas of the British
+Empire, notably including India, to which it was exported in the greatest quantity—it
+was nevertheless largely without real influence outside the United States and the British
+Dominions. In the world picture, it was the British architectural critics of this period,
+Ruskin and Morris, who would have a vital influence, but that influence came for the
+most part rather later, around 1890 (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). Cuijpers, however, was a reader
+of Ruskin from the fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Still to be discussed is the early work of one great architect, also reputedly a reader of
+Ruskin, whose career began in the seventies with a sharp revulsion from the Second
+Empire mode towards the Neo-Gothic. The Spanish (or more precisely Catalan)
+architect Antoni Gaudí i Cornet (1852-1926) was one of the most intensely personal
+talents that either the nineteenth or the twentieth century has produced. His style
+hardly matured before the nineties, and what are generally considered his typical works
+must be discussed later in connexion with the Art Nouveau (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). But
+what he had accomplished already in the seventies and eighties can be better appreciated
+here in relation to the contemporary work of those decades in other countries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gaudí’s earliest work was at the Parc de la Ciutadella in Barcelona, laid out in 1872,
+where he assisted the master of works Eduardo Fontseré, while still a student, in various
+projects for its embellishment. The elaborate Cascade there, incorporating an Aquarium,
+on which he worked in 1877-82 derives in the main from Espérandieu’s at the Palais
+Longchamps in Marseilles. But some of the detail, both plastic and incised, has a flavour
+more comparable to that of the wildest and most eclectic English and American Second
+Empire work of the previous decade than to anything French.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The first commission for which Gaudí was wholly responsible is the house of Don
+Manuel Vicens at 24-26 Carrer de les Carolines in Barcelona. This was erected in 1878-80,
+immediately upon his graduation from the local Escuela Superior de Arquitectura,
+and in it no trace of Second Empire influence, French or international, remains. A large
+suburban villa built of rubble masonry liberally banded with polychrome tiles, the
+Casa Vicens passes beyond the extravagances of a Teulon or a Lamb in the sixties into
+a world of fantasy that only one or two High Victorian designers such as the Scottish
+Frederick T. Pilkington (1832-98) ever entered. Yet Gaudí’s general inspiration came
+definitely from the medieval past. In Spain that past included the semi-Islamic Mudéjar,
+however, and much of the detailing which appears most original to non-Spanish eyes
+is, in fact, dependent on local precedents of one sort or another. For example, the
+floral tiles are merely what the Iberian world knows as <i>azulejos</i> and has continued to
+use down to the present time, especially in Portugal and Brazil (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In all the flamboyance of the decoration of the Casa Vicens, the most personal note is
+in the ironwork. This is naturalistic in theme and bold in scale; it also includes curious
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>linear elements that wave and bend in a way which is more than a little premonitory of
+the Art Nouveau of the nineties (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). The entrance grille is a masterpiece of
+decorative art of this period, rivalled only by some of Morris’s contemporary stained glass.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The very utilitarian industrial warehouse for La Obrera Mataronense of 1878-82 at
+Mataró, with its great arched principals of laminated wood, should be mentioned to
+balance the Casa Vicens. Here Gaudí’s prowess as an imaginative constructor—almost
+a straight engineer—was very evident, as also the fact that the unfamiliar forms he continually
+used—the shape of the arches here was parabolic not semicircular or pointed—were
+not a matter of personal crankiness but selected for statical reasons: Gothic in
+theory, that is, like some of Soufflot’s vaulting, though not very Gothic in appearance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1884, however, Gaudí was made director of works for a large new Gothic church
+in Barcelona, and from this time forward a considerable part of his activity, extending
+down through his restoration of the cathedral of Palma on the island of Mallorca in
+1900-14, was that of a Gothic Revivalist, if an increasingly unconventional one. Towards
+such a career his own intense religiosity inclined him quite as much as was the case with
+Pugin and reputedly also with Cuijpers—Viollet-le-Duc, by exception, was strongly
+anti-clerical. Unlike Pugin’s or Cuijpers’s, however, Gaudí’s career as an ecclesiastical
+architect was rather unproductive. Yet from the first he designed and executed church
+furnishings and, while still a student in 1875-7, he assisted the architect Francesc de
+Paula del Villar i Carmona (1845-1922) on a project for adding a porch to the monastery
+church of Montsarrat.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1881 Villar was made architect of the proposed Expiatory Temple of the Holy
+Family (Sagrada Familia),<a id="r258"></a><a href='#f258' class='c025'><sup>[258]</sup></a> for which a large square site had been obtained between the
+Carrers de Mallorca, de Marina, de Provença, and de Sardenya in an outlying part of
+Barcelona, and the construction of the crypt of a great cruciform Gothic church was
+started in 1882. Two years later Gaudí took over charge of the work, as has been said,
+completing the crypt by 1891 almost entirely according to Villar’s original and quite
+conventionally thirteenth-fourteenth-century Gothic design. There followed the construction
+of the outer walls only of the chevet; these were finished by 1893. The further
+history of the church will be considered later; for Gaudí’s style underwent extraordinary
+changes in the nineties as he designed and built one transept façade of the church and its
+towers—which is about all that exists above ground even today (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Contemporaneously with Gaudí’s construction of the crypt and the chevet walls of
+the Sagrada Familia came four secular works, two of them also quite Neo-Gothic in
+character and two others of very great originality. The Bishop’s Palace at Astorga of
+1887-93 and the Fernández-Arbós house, known as the Casa de los Botines, in the Plaza
+de San Marcelo at León of 1892-4 might well be mistaken for provincial High Victorian
+Gothic done in England or America twenty or thirty years earlier. But the city mansion
+of Don Eusebio Güell at 3-5 Carrer Nou de la Rambla (now Conde del Asalto) in
+Barcelona, built in 1885-9, is an edifice of the greatest distinction, rivalled for quality in
+its period only by the very finest late work of Richardson in America (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>).
+The Teresian College at 41 Carrer de Ganduxer in Barcelona is also quite remarkable in
+its simpler way.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Far suaver than his earlier Casa Vicens, the Palau Güell is quite as strikingly novel all
+the same. At the base yawn a pair of parabolic arches, their tops filled above a plain
+reticulated grille with sinuous seaweed-like ornament of the most extravagant virtuosity
+(Plate <a href='#pl096b'>96<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The ‘Dragon Gate’ of the Finca Güell of 1887 in
+the Avenida Pedralbes is
+still stranger, with a nightmare quality which those of the house in town happily
+lack. On either side of the entrance arches and in the projecting first storey the façade
+of the Palau Güell is no more than a rather plain rectangular grid of stone mullions and
+transoms. In scale this grid is more like Parris’s Boston granite fronts of the twenties than
+like English window-walls, but it is detailed in a cranky medievalizing way that is more
+comparable to Webb’s handling of stonework (Figure <a href='#i203'>17</a>). The rear façade towards the
+court includes in the middle a broad bay-window with curved corners protected by sunscreens
+as original but less fantastic than the grilles at the entrance. The most extraordinary
+features of the exterior, however, are the chimney-pots rising in profusion
+above the flat roof like an exhibition of abstract sculpture and entirely covered with a
+mosaic of irregular fragments of glass, rubble, or coloured tiles. In them the extravagance
+of his earlier houses was continued, and such terminal features remained characteristic
+of all his later secular work.</p>
+
+<div id='i203'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i203.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 17. Antoni Gaudí: project for Palau Güell, Barcelona, 1885, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>The interiors of the Palau Güell are extremely sumptuous. There is much use of
+marble arcades of parabolic arches carried on round columns, both arches and columns
+being detailed with the greatest mathematical elegance and simplicity, yet with considerable
+variety. Some of the ceilings are of marble slabs carried by visible iron beams,
+but in the principal apartments there are incredibly elaborate confections of woodwork
+in the Moorish tradition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The College of Santa Teresa de Jesús, built in 1889-94 immediately after the Palau
+Güell, is naturally much more modest than that great merchant’s palace, which continues
+the line of those that late medieval and Renaissance magnates often built. Rubble walls
+banded and stripped with brickwork are pierced alternately with ranges of narrow windows
+and with small square ventilators closed with quatrefoil grilles. The widely spaced
+windows are capped with steep parabolic ‘arches’ formed by cantilevering inward successive
+brick courses. The third storey is all of brickwork panelled with blind ‘arches’
+between the windows and carried up into large, flat, triangular finials along the skyline.
+Less ingratiating than the Palau Güell with its luxurious use of fine materials inside and
+out, this college building is equally regular in composition and no more Gothic in
+appearance to a non-Spanish eye; in fact, however, it leans even more heavily on
+Mozarab and Mudéjar precedent than does the Casa Vicens. A certain amount of relatively
+plain wrought-iron grillework recalls that at the entrances of the earlier houses.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Only perhaps in England and America did the line of descent from the Gothic Revival
+lead so far away from the standard medievalism of the mid century in the seventies and
+eighties. But these early works of Gaudí represent only a part—to most critics the less
+important half—of his production. For strangeness they can be matched in work of
+equal consequence within this period only by Sullivan’s earliest commercial façades in
+Chicago (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Teulon and Harris had reformed by the seventies; Lamb and
+Pilkington were forgotten. In character Gaudí’s work of the seventies and eighties could
+hardly be more different from the mature style of the English Shaw. Yet Shaw, at his
+occasional best, could compete with Gaudí in the quality of his achievement; while his
+influence, both at home and in the United States, was of very considerable historical
+importance, as Gaudí’s was not, even in Spain
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch12'>12</a>, <a href='#ch13'>13</a>, and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For all that Gaudí was actually represented at the Paris Exhibition of 1878—by a
+glovemaker’s vitrine!—and later by pavilions designed for the Compañía Transatlántica
+in the Naval Exhibition of 1887 at Cadiz and in the Barcelona International
+Exhibition of the following year, his work was hardly known at all except to his compatriots
+before the nineties. In the mid twentieth century, however, his reputation is still
+rising, as the flood of new publications of the last decade makes evident. The reasons
+for this will be suggested later, since they apply chiefly to the work that he did after 1900
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch16'>16</a> and <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the European picture as a whole a less notable shift of direction occurred around
+1870 than in England and America. There was naturally continuity in the Vienna of
+Francis Joseph, since the Imperial government called the tune in Austrian architecture
+and the King-Emperor’s reign went on without a break—indeed, it lasted for another
+generation and more. What is surprising is that the end of the Second Empire and the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>beginning of the Third Republic brought so little change in France. There was, of
+course, a short hiatus in production like that which followed the fall of the first Napoleon.
+As around 1820, however, so around 1875 the story picks up again almost as if
+there had been no break at all. Gradually interest in exposed metal construction, in decline
+since the fifties, revived; by the time of the Paris Exhibition of 1889 French feats of
+metal construction, not so much the Galerie des Machines as the Eiffel Tower, became
+the talk of the world (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the fugue-like composition of nineteenth-century architectural history different
+themes have differing durations. The English theme of High Victorian Gothic, picked
+up in any case only by the Anglo-Saxon sections of the orchestra, came effectively to an
+end with the early seventies; the Second Empire theme, whether it be considered in a
+specialized sense or in a broader one, was picked up at least selectively by the whole
+western world and not least boldly by the Anglo-American section; moreover, it continued
+in most countries, with some modulation, for at least a decade longer than the
+High Victorian Gothic. Yet both in England and America, the important new themes of
+the seventies and eighties were rooted not in the Second Empire but in the Victorian
+Gothic, even though they represent something much more original than mere modulations
+of that earlier theme.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The third quarter of the nineteenth century is notable for the stylistic diversity of its
+production. In principle there may, perhaps, be no more difference between Visconti’s
+and Lefuel’s New Louvre and a Butterfield church than between Nash’s Blaise Hamlet
+and his terraces around Regent’s Park, to cite merely work by one early nineteenth-century
+architect. Yet thanks to the fugal character of the general historical development,
+which meant that new modes were added to the architectural repertory—as they
+had been at least since the twenties—more rapidly than old modes were dropped, the
+over-all picture became extremely complicated after 1850. It belies the most valid and
+idiosyncratic achievements of this period, however, to stress too much its apparently
+limitless eclecticism.<a id="r259"></a><a href='#f259' class='c025'><sup>[259]</sup></a> The account given in the last four chapters undoubtedly exaggerates
+the importance of certain modes, if that importance be measured statistically in
+terms of quantity of production. Qualitative considerations have led to a drastic selectivity,
+emphasizing relatively limited but vital aspects of architectural production at the
+expense of others that were far more ubiquitous but generally very dull. With different
+criteria of selection, using different standards of architectural quality—attainment of
+archaeological plausibility, say; or success or failure in the incorporation of new technical
+developments; or realization of programmatic aims—several very different pictures
+could be, and indeed frequently have been,<a id="r260"></a><a href='#f260' class='c025'><sup>[260]</sup></a> given of the architecture of the
+western world in these decades.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the expense of emphasizing architectural developments peculiar to the Anglo-Saxon
+world in this same, possibly unbalanced, fashion the next chapter is organized
+around the career, after 1870, of Norman Shaw, whose early work in the High Victorian
+Gothic has already received some attention. The chapter following that centres on
+the achievement of the American architect Richardson, whose somewhat parallel
+beginnings have also been described in this chapter.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>
+  <h2 id='ch12' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 12</span><br />NORMAN SHAW AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>In</span> England and America there followed immediately upon the ‘High Styles’ of
+the fifties and sixties phases of stylistic development that cannot readily be matched in
+the other countries of the western world. This is true both of the quality of the achievement
+and also of its significance for what came after. Beginning just before 1870 in
+England and but little later in the United States, these two phases developed in far from
+identical ways. In both cases their conventional names, ‘Queen Anne’ and ‘Romanesque
+Revival’, are misnomers. It was a long time before the Queen Anne of the seventies
+actually became a revival of early eighteenth-century architecture in the same sense as
+the Greek, Gothic, or Renaissance Revivals. The supposed Romanesque Revival in
+America of this period was not very archaeological either. It is therefore less inaccurate
+to label these modes by the names of their principal protagonists: ‘Shavian’ for Richard
+Norman Shaw (even though that proper adjective refers more familiarly to George
+Bernard Shaw) and ‘Richardsonian’ for Henry Hobson Richardson. Shaw, however,
+shares responsibility for the effectiveness of the mutation away from the High Victorian
+with other men, notably his early partner Nesfield, Webb, Godwin, and J. J. Stevenson.<a id="r261"></a><a href='#f261' class='c025'><sup>[261]</sup></a>
+Of all this group, Shaw was unquestionably the most successful, the most typical,
+and the most influential, though not the most original.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Except for Pugin, no architect since Robert Adam had so much effect on English—and
+for that matter also on American—production. Moreover, his influence lasted for
+some thirty-five years, rather longer than did Adam’s. Yet it is not possible to define the
+Shavian mode clearly as it is the Adamesque or the Puginian. An architectural Picasso,
+Shaw had many divergent manners which he developed successively, but of which
+none—except the High Victorian Gothic—was ever entirely dropped. Each of these
+manners, down to the very end of his long practice, found in turn a following. His latest
+and most conspicuous work, the Piccadilly Hotel, built in London in 1905-8 between
+Piccadilly and the Regent Street Quadrant (Plate <a href='#pl107'>107</a>), is more characteristic of the Edwardian
+Age of the opening twentieth century than his early church at Bingley is of the
+High Victorian. Outside church architecture the intervening Late Victorian can hardly
+be defined better than in terms of his various manners, and even in church architecture
+he had a real contribution to make, if a lesser reputation than Pearson or Bodley.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet Shaw cannot be rated with Soane or Schinkel as a nineteenth-century architect of
+absolutely the first rank; nor yet with his American contemporary Richardson, even
+though Richardson’s career came to an end a score of years before his. Shaw’s work reflects
+all too clearly, despite his own vast and sanguine assurance, the general uncertainties
+of the years after 1870. Webb, though less successful and famous, eventually had
+more influence, not so much on English architecture in general as on the more creative
+and original men of the next generation. The later history of European architecture
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>would be much the same—if not that of American architecture—had Shaw never
+existed; but the modern architecture that first came into being after 1900 in various
+countries of Europe owed something directly, and even more indirectly, to Webb. In
+this way Richardson also has more significance than Shaw, despite his lack of influence
+abroad, for Sullivan and Wright in America both learned much from him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Norman Shaw was born in Edinburgh in 1831. Brought early to London, he was
+taken on in his early teens by Burn, the Edinburgh architect then settled in London, who
+had so great a success designing Jacobethan and Scottish Baronial mansions for the high
+aristocracy in the forties and fifties. Shaw also studied at the Royal Academy, winning
+in 1853 their Silver Medal, and in the next year their Gold Medal, with the award of a
+Travelling Studentship that took him to Germany, Italy, and France. The project which
+won him the first medal was a surprising production for its period, and quite without
+relation to his own High Victorian Gothic work of the next decade that has been described
+earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). A vast design for a college with central domed block
+and side pavilions loaded with giant orders, this project is more Vanbrugh-like than
+Second Empire. In some sense Shaw’s career was to come full circle stylistically; but
+even in the Gaiety Theatre in the Strand in London of 1902-3 and the still later Piccadilly
+Hotel he would hardly be as whole-heartedly Neo-Baroque again.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1858 Shaw published, as has been mentioned before, what is perhaps the most
+attractive of High Victorian Gothic source-books, <i>Architectural Sketches from the Continent</i>,
+based on his European studies; doubtless on the strength of this book he became
+at this time, or shortly after, Street’s principal assistant—chief draughtsman, one might
+call it—in succession to Webb.<a id="r262"></a><a href='#f262' class='c025'><sup>[262]</sup></a> There he remained for four years, leaving in 1862 to
+form a partnership with Nesfield, whom he had first known in the early fifties in Burn’s
+office. As has already been noted, Nesfield was the son of Barry’s collaborator in garden
+design for all his major country house commissions. Younger than Shaw, Nesfield had
+gone to Burn’s office in 1850 a year or two after leaving Eton, and in 1853 had moved
+to the office of his uncle Anthony Salvin, another successful builder of aristocratic
+country houses. Nesfield, in this year 1862, issued a book rather like Shaw’s of four years
+earlier as has been mentioned in connexion with his work for Lord Craven at Combe
+Abbey. Other aristocrats with whom he had connexions through his father soon began
+to employ him on more modest jobs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Building lodges and other accessories to great country estates, and in 1864 one in
+Regent’s Park where everyone might appreciate his highly personal touch, Nesfield revived
+in effect the Picturesque Cottage mode of half a century earlier. But the materials
+he used were more various,<a id="r263"></a><a href='#f263' class='c025'><sup>[263]</sup></a> including tile-hanging and pargetting, and his designs had
+a general finesse that was much more craftsmanlike than those of the slapdash Nash and
+his rivals in this genre (Plate <a href='#pl050a'>50<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). In Nesfield’s first major work, Cloverley Hall in
+Shropshire, begun in 1865, several characteristic features appear for which his lodges
+hardly prepared the way (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). There a tall great hall provided the principal
+interior, and the areas of mullioned windows in the Tudor tradition were so extensive
+as to constitute real ‘window-walls’ (Figure <a href='#i261'>24</a>). His very refined and ingenious ornamentation
+at Cloverley, some of it of Japanese inspiration, has been mentioned.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>Even earlier, in 1862, when Japanese art was just beginning to be an inspiration to
+advanced painters in Paris and in London and the Japanese Government first sent
+examples of characteristic work to an international exhibition, Godwin, who was just
+at that point throwing off the influence of Ruskin, had stripped bare the interiors of his
+own house in Bristol and decorated them only with a few Japanese prints asymmetrically
+hung. By 1866 Godwin was designing wallpapers of notably Japanese character for
+Jeffry &amp; Co. and from 1868 ‘Anglo-Japanese’ furniture for the manufacturer William
+Watt.<a id="r264"></a><a href='#f264' class='c025'><sup>[264]</sup></a> But <i>japonisme</i> is only a minor theme of this period,<a id="r265"></a><a href='#f265' class='c025'><sup>[265]</sup></a> and it hardly influenced
+Shaw at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Half a century earlier the prestige of a ranking novelist, Sir Walter Scott, had helped
+to launch one of the most popular Picturesque modes, the Scottish Baronial, when he
+asked Blore to imitate the old Border castles in designing his house at Abbotsford. Now
+in 1861 Thackeray, a novelist many of whose novels were set, not in the Middle Ages,
+but in early eighteenth-century England and Virginia, designed for himself a house in
+Palace Green in London opposite Kensington Palace, much of which is more or less
+of that particular period. This house echoes the modest red-brick manor houses of the
+time of Queen Anne on both sides of the Atlantic, but it could hardly be less plausible.
+At the same time Wellington College by John Shaw (1803-70), which was begun in
+1856, was reaching completion in a much richer, almost Second Empire, version of the
+Wren style of 1700.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The serious adumbration of a Queen Anne mode really began a few years later with
+a small public commission of Nesfield’s. His lodge at Kew Gardens, designed in 1866
+and built in 1867, though simple, is already almost an archaeological exercise in early
+eighteenth-century<a id="r266"></a><a href='#f266' class='c025'><sup>[266]</sup></a> brickwork (Figure <a href='#i208'>18</a>). This Kew lodge he followed up a few
+years later with a big but remote country house, Kinmel Park near Abergele in Wales,
+built in 1871-4 though possibly designed a bit earlier. To this we will be returning
+shortly. Shaw had nothing to do with Kinmel Park, since his partnership with Nesfield
+came to an end in 1868; that was just after the completion of Cloverley Hall on which
+he certainly collaborated even if his personal contribution there cannot now be readily
+distinguished. Already in 1866, before Shaw parted from
+Nesfield, however, his own career had opened with the
+designing of the Bingley church (Plate <a href='#pl094a'>94<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and of Glen
+Andred, near Withyham in Sussex, a house of great
+originality of character (Plate <a href='#pl102b'>102<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i208'  class='figleft id005'>
+<img src='images/i208.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 18. W. Eden Nesfield: Kew Gardens, Lodge, 1867, elevation</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Glen Andred is little more related to the new Queen
+Anne mode of the Kew lodge than it is to the Gothic
+of the Bingley church. It does, however, seem to derive
+somewhat from earlier Nesfield work, or possibly from
+Devey. Where the High Victorian Gothic had rejected
+English precedent in favour of Italian and French models,
+this first Sussex house of Shaw’s is resolutely regional in
+character. The tile-hung walls above a red-brick ground
+storey, the white-painted wooden casements, almost as
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>extensive as the ‘window-walls’ of Cloverley, the loose asymmetrical organization of the
+massing are all related to a local Sussex and Surrey vernacular of no particular period
+(Plate <a href='#pl102b'>102<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The entrance front is more formal, carefully balanced if not precisely symmetrical,
+and here the pargetting in the central gable is of Jacobethan character. But the
+great stair-window and the graceful massing of the tiled roofs, quite in the finest tradition
+of the Picturesque but handled with a new ease and casualness, are more important
+elements of Shaw’s first manner, which can be called ‘Shavian Manorial’. The hall
+across the front between the two projecting wings is modest in size, with the principal
+living rooms loosely grouped round it. Thus this may be considered an early example
+of what I have rather clumsily called the ‘agglutinative plan’, but as it was never published
+the extent of its actual influence must remain uncertain.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was little logic to Shaw’s regionalism. Already in 1868 he was applying his
+Sussex vocabulary of materials and forms to the Cookridge Convalescent Hospital at
+Horsforth near Leeds in stony Yorkshire. In general, however, he kept this manner for
+work near London, using it even as late as 1894 for a house called The Hallams near
+Bramley in Surrey. He also introduced tile-hanging on some of his houses in London
+such as West House, at 118 Campden Hill Road, of 1877 and Walton House in Walton
+Street of 1885 as well as—rather more appropriately—on the suburban Hampstead
+house that he built in the same year for Kate Greenaway at 39 Frognal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shaw’s first client had been a painter, J. C. Horsley, R.A., for whom he made some
+alterations in the early sixties and whose son later entered his office. Glen Andred was
+for another painter, E. W. Cooke, later R.A., and West House was for George Boughton,
+R.A. Kate Greenaway, better known today than these forgotten academicians, was
+an illustrator of children’s books much patronized by Ruskin. F. W. Goodall, R.A.
+(1870), Marcus Stone, R.A. (1876), Luke Fildes, R.A. (1877), Edwin Long, R.A. (1878,
+and again in 1888), Frank Holl, R.A. (1881), are other successful painters and fellow
+academicians—Shaw became an A.R.A. himself in 1872 and an R.A. in 1877—for whom
+he built houses (with the dates of the commissions). All but Goodall’s house at Harrow
+Weald were either in Melbury Road in Kensington in London or else in Fitzjohn’s
+Avenue near his own Hampstead house of 1875 at 6 Ellerdale Road. Where the prosperous
+artists, themselves presumably aping the aristocracy, led, magnates and City men
+were now quick to follow. The Newcastle steelmaster Sir William Armstrong had
+Shaw build Cragside near Rothbury in Northumberland for him as early as 1870.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Leyswood, near Withyham in Sussex, begun in 1868 at the same time as the Cookridge
+Hospital, was one of Shaw’s most influential works (Plate <a href='#pl123'>123</a>). More archaeologically
+manorial than Glen Andred, it provided a mass of suggestions that English and
+American architects borrowed again and again over the next twenty years and more.
+Because of Shaw’s later leadership, it is natural for posterity to note what was new here;
+contemporaries, used to the wild vagaries of the High Victorian Gothic, saw Leyswood
+rather as a reaction against the ‘modernism’ of the fifties and earlier sixties. Tile-hung
+upper storeys and barge-boarded gables, richly half-timbered—the half-timbering a
+mere sham applied over solid brickwork!—long banks of casements that approach the
+twentieth-century ‘ribbon-window’ and great mullioned bays providing ‘window-walls’
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>as extensive as Nesfield’s at Cloverley clothed an interior that was not at all
+medieval but a more developed example than Glen Andred of the ‘agglutinative plan’
+(Figure <a href='#i210'>19</a>). The main reception rooms were grouped about a central hall, from one side
+of which rose elaborate stairs arranged in several flights about an open well. Webb had
+already essayed this sort of planning in a more orderly way at Arisaig begun in 1863
+(Figure <a href='#i260'>23</a>); but it was Shaw’s version, not Webb’s, that was generally imitated (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i210'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i210.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 19. Norman Shaw: Leyswood, Sussex, 1868, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shortly after Leyswood, and following fairly closely its manner although with fewer
+Late Gothic elements of detail, came the house later called Grim’s Dyke built at Harrow
+Weald in 1870-2 for F. W. Goodall, afterwards the country house of the composer
+W. S. Gilbert, and Preen Manor in Shropshire also designed in 1870. Then followed
+Hopedene, near Holmbury in Surrey, and Boldre Grange, near Lymington in Hampshire,
+in 1873; Wispers, Midhurst, in Sussex, in 1875; Chigwell Hall in Essex, and
+Pierrepoint, near Farnham in Surrey, in 1876; Merrist Wood near Guildford in Surrey,
+and Denham at Totteridge in Hertfordshire, in 1877; and so on down into the nineties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>After their showing each year at the Royal Academy Exhibition Shaw’s brilliant pen-and-ink
+perspectives of these houses were published photo-lithographically in the professional
+press; moreover, from 1874 the plans were usually given as well, the first
+published being that of Hopedene. Not surprisingly these were the most influential of
+Shaw’s works abroad, providing in the late seventies and early eighties one of the most
+important sources of the American ‘Shingle Style’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Beside them,
+moreover, Webb’s more prominent London works of the late sixties, the house for
+George Howard, later Earl of Carlisle, built in 1868 near Thackeray’s in Palace Green,
+Kensington, and the small office building at 19 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, also of 1868, appear
+somewhat cranky and overstudied, still rather too Gothic in detail and lacking the
+comfortable air of his country-house work. However, the modest London studio-house
+at 14 Holland Park Road, Kensington, which was designed in 1864 and built in 1865
+for Val Prinsep, like Morris and Spencer Stanhope one of the crew of artists who worked
+on the decoration of the Oxford Union, must have been more like the Red House and
+Benfleet Hall before it was recurrently enlarged by Webb in the following decades.
+Another London studio-house for the water-colour painter G. B. Boyce at 35 Glebe
+Place, Chelsea, which was begun in 1869, is in rather better condition today and quite
+exemplary in its quiet way despite some changes by Webb and others.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At this point came Nesfield’s Kinmel Park. Shaw and other advanced architects must
+have been aware of the character of the designs for this house from 1870 or 71, even
+though it was neither shown at the Royal Academy nor published then, and took some
+four years to complete. Kinmel is much more complicated stylistically than Nesfield’s
+Kew lodge of 1866-7, but it offers the next step in the development of the new Queen
+Anne mode. At first sight it might appear to be related rather to Second Empire
+work, for the main block on the entrance side is symmetrical, high-roofed, and dominated
+by a bold central pavilion. Moreover, the detailing of the red-brick façades with
+their profuse light-coloured stone trim is almost as French of Louis XIII’s time as it is
+English of Queen Anne’s day. The garden front, which is carefully ordered but not
+symmetrical, and the service wing to the south, much more loosely composed and with
+a profusion of small-paned double-hung sash-windows and dormers, are more definitely
+English and also more original.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Webb had been using such windows and even approaching the Late Stuart vernacular
+in his houses for a year or two before Kinmel was begun. This was most evident at
+Trevor Hall (Figure <a href='#i262'>25</a>), built at Oakleigh Park near Barnet in Hertfordshire in 1868-70,
+for that modest country house was quite symmetrical in design although almost
+devoid of any sort of ‘period’ detail, whether Gothic or Late Stuart. To more acclaim,
+Webb had also been responsible for designing with William Morris a little earlier, in
+1866 and in 1867, the Armoury in St James’s Palace and the Refreshment Room in the
+Victoria and Albert Museum. The former, particularly, is a very original masterpiece of
+nineteenth-century decoration, hardly at all related to the contemporary High Victorian
+Gothic, yet reflecting the eighteenth century only as regards the treatment of the wainscoting
+and the door and window casings (which may be of eighteenth-century date).
+The Refreshment Room is also very fine and now accessible to the public (Plate <a href='#pl097b'>97<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>Just after 1870, while Kinmel was still in construction, the main line of development
+moved from the country into London. The Education Act of 1870 required the building
+of innumerable new schools, particularly by the London School Board. Among the
+architects successful in the first competitions that were held for designs for these schools
+were E. R. Robson (1835-1917) and J. J. Stevenson (1831-1908); they used a non-Gothic
+vocabulary in London stock bricks trimmed with red bricks cut or moulded
+along seventeenth-century vernacular lines.<a id="r267"></a><a href='#f267' class='c025'><sup>[267]</sup></a> This mode was not unrelated to the more
+definitely Queen Anne models provided by the Kew lodge and by Kinmel, but the
+new London schools were more irregular in composition and naturally much more
+cheaply built. Robson, appointed architect to the London School Board in 1871, soon
+made this mode the official one for schools in London County and this, of course, before
+long influenced Board School design nationally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1871 Stevenson, like Shaw a Scot out to make a London reputation, built a new
+house for himself in what is now Bayswater Road. This he named the Red House, like
+Morris’s at Bexley Heath of a decade earlier, in order to call attention to the fact that its
+brickwork was not covered with stucco but exposed like that of the Thackeray and
+Howard houses in Palace Green. In fact, however, it was built like the Board Schools of
+brownish stock bricks with red-brick detail elaborately moulded, gauged, and cut in the
+Late Stuart way. Although Stevenson’s house had little of the real elegance of Kinmel
+or the natural ease of Shaw’s manors, its novelty and its fairly conspicuous location
+would have attracted attention in any case. But Stevenson, a very accomplished publicist,
+saw the advantage of proclaiming for this hybrid mode a name, ‘Queen Anne’,
+which was evidently no less applicable to Nesfield’s Kew lodge and Kinmel or even to
+his friend Robson’s schools. Thus was a revival formally launched.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two new buildings in London by Shaw, begun in 1872 and in 1873, were definitely
+in the new mode. Only at this point, indeed, does the term Queen Anne begin to make
+any sense as applied to Shaw’s work. Despite the valid claim to priority that Stevenson
+made for his Red House in a paper read in 1874 at the Architects’ Conference ‘On the
+recent reaction of taste in architecture’ in which he claimed the Queen Anne mode
+was a ‘Re-Renaissance’ (<i>sic</i>), and his own relative success from this time on as a fashionable
+London house-architect, the Queen Anne became Shaw’s from the moment that he
+first turned his hand to it in 1872. Whether the original idea came to him from Devey or
+from Nesfield—he had probably worked himself on the drawings for the Kew lodge—or
+was merely an attempt to outbid a rival Scotsman on the London scene makes no real
+difference.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>New Zealand Chambers, the office building which Shaw erected in 1872-3 in Leadenhall
+Street in the City, was certainly totally unlike anything the Age of Anne ever saw
+except for the cut-brick detailing of the pedimented entrance. Boldly projecting red
+brick piers divided the tall façade into three bays, while between them rose oriel windows
+broken by ornately sculptured spandrels imitated from the mid-seventeenth-century
+ones on Sparrow’s House at Ipswich. The small panes and thick white sash-bars
+of these windows made the scale surprisingly domestic in contrast to the usual boldness
+of High Victorian commercial work, and the whole composition was effectively tied together
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>by an ornately pargeted cove cornice that ran straight across the top (see Chapter
+14). Above this the rather simple range of continuous dormers in the roof was very
+much in the spirit of the ‘ribbon-window’ bands on his country houses.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So dazzled were contemporaries by the lush exuberance of Shaw’s ornament on the
+spandrels and the cove that they hardly noticed the way in which the bold articulation
+of this façade by the brick piers, with the areas between nearly all window, frankly reflecting
+the internal iron construction, provided most satisfactory lighting for the
+offices; nor that Shaw, while keeping his scale intimate in all the detailing, was not
+afraid to stress the verticality of his façade by avoiding emphasis on the storey lines.
+Only the weaker features of the design—the arbitrary asymmetry of the entrance, the
+profuse ornamentation, and the underscaling—were generally imitated.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lowther Lodge, built in 1873-4, a large free-standing mansion in Kensington Gore,
+still survives—it is now the home of the Royal Geographical Society—as New Zealand
+Chambers does not. Here the vocabulary of cut and moulded brick is more consistently
+Late Stuart, although the general composition, with many gables, two tall polygonal
+bay-windows, quantities of dormers, and tall fluted chimney stacks, is as romantically
+complex as that of Shaw’s manors in Sussex and Surrey. However, both the front and
+the rear façades, when studied, will be found to approximate symmetry in their principal
+portions as does the front of Glen Andred; and the main rooms inside, the hall at
+the front and the drawing-room behind, are quite symmetrical and have recognizably
+Early Georgian (rather than specifically Queen Anne) fireplaces and door and window
+casings, although their grouping is still, so to say, agglutinative.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In a Surrey house of the same date, 1873, like Trevor Hall unhappily demolished,
+Webb moved rather farther in a similar direction. Joldwynds near Dorking was quite
+as symmetrical as Trevor Hall but even less Gothic. The vocabulary of tile-hanging on
+the upper storeys, with weather-boarding in the gables, was as authentically regional as
+that of Shaw’s nearby houses, but the vaguely eighteenth-century vernacular of the detailing
+was much simpler than Shaw’s repertory of moulded and cut brickwork at
+Lowther Lodge.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nesfield, in designing what is now Barclays Bank in the Market Square of Saffron
+Walden in Essex, remained more eclectic, staying closer to the manorial mode of
+Cloverley Hall yet using again various Japanese motifs in the rich decoration. This was
+built in 1874. Godwin, who had just moved to London with the actress Ellen Terry and
+was now largely occupied with designing stage sets, developed further in the rooms of
+their rented house in Taviton Street in 1873-4 the Anglo-Japanese mode of his interiors
+of ten years earlier in Bristol. In 1874 he also arranged an exhibition of paintings in a
+similar spirit for his friend the painter Whistler at the new Grosvenor Galleries.<a id="r268"></a><a href='#f268' class='c025'><sup>[268]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the mid seventies, however, it was Shaw, not Nesfield or Godwin, who occupied
+the centre of the architectural stage. In the Convent of the Sisters of Bethany of 1874 in
+St Clements Road at Boscombe near Bournemouth he disguised his use of concrete,
+then a relatively new building material, with his familiar Sussex vernacular. He did the
+same in a slightly later series of designs for cottages made of patented prefabricated concrete
+slabs.<a id="r269"></a><a href='#f269' class='c025'><sup>[269]</sup></a> It is worth noting, moreover, that the internal iron skeleton above the bold
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>cantilever on the front of his Old Swan House (Plate <a href='#pl103'>103</a>) of 1876 at 17 Chelsea Embankment
+in London provides in effect an example of what would later be called ‘skyscraper
+construction’, since it carries completely the weight of the brickwork of the upper walls;
+this was a decade before the ‘invention’ of this sort of construction in Chicago (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Shaw’s interest in technical developments and his enthusiasm for new
+materials and methods was evidently very great, always provided that he could bend
+them to his particular sort of retroactive pictorial vision. When he built the Jury House
+for the Paris Exhibition of 1878 of patent cement bricks, for example, he designed the
+façade very elegantly in his Late Stuart manner just as if it were of cut and moulded clay
+bricks. Godwin and Whistler, however, were showing at this same exhibition an
+Anglo-Japanese room of highly original character in association with Watt the furniture
+manufacturer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shaw’s excellent church of this period at Bournemouth, St Michael’s and All Angels,
+Poole Hill, begun in 1873, is Late Victorian in the crispness and clarity of its design but
+less archaeological than those of this date by Bodley. It seems to indicate that he could
+have made a great reputation as a church builder had he not been absorbed with secular
+work. But by the seventies secular work once again provided the field of major prestige
+in England, as it had hardly done since 1840, and so Shaw concentrated on it. Having
+revolutionized country-house design, he now turned, more definitely than at Lowther
+Lodge—by its size and open siting more a country house set in the city—to urban and
+suburban domestic work. In these his conquest was even more complete, at least in
+England and, as regards the suburbs, in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Old Swan House and its neighbour Cheyne House at the outer end of the Chelsea
+Embankment, respectively of 1876 and 1875, are both mansions rather than ordinary
+terrace houses. They also represent a considerably further advance along the road towards
+a formal eighteenth-century revival than Lowther Lodge. Old Swan House is
+completely symmetrical, and the upper storeys are also quite regularly fenestrated in the
+early eighteenth-century way (Plate <a href='#pl103'>103</a>). However, the total effect is still highly Picturesque
+because of the way these upper storeys are cantilevered forward; from the
+cantilever depend, moreover, elaborate oriels of much earlier character very similar to
+those Shaw had introduced at New Zealand Chambers. Such oriels he long continued
+to employ; they are not only a principal feature of his own house in Hampstead, built in
+this same year, but also of the much later Holl and Long houses. Cheyne House occupies
+an irregular curving plot with the entrance in Royal Hospital Road; but Shaw
+used all his considerable ingenuity to give it symmetrical façades, even though the
+plan actually has little of the orderliness of that of Lowther Lodge.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If these two Chelsea houses seem to presage an early return to the serenity of Georgian
+street architecture, Shaw’s J. P. Heseltine house of 1875 at 196 Queen’s Gate in South
+Kensington unleashed a flood of the most individualistic house-design London had ever
+seen. Stucco-fronted houses of builders’ Renaissance design were still being erected on
+contiguous sites when this tall gabled façade rose, totally oblivious of old and new
+neighbours. Cut brick, moulded brick, terracotta, all of the brightest red, surround
+very large mullioned windows in a composition that is gratuitously asymmetrical at
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>the base but symmetrical in the upper storeys below the crowning gable. For fifteen
+years such houses proliferated in the Chelsea, Kensington, and Earls Court districts of
+western London. The best are by Shaw himself, such as those at 68, 62, and 72 Cadogan
+Square—the first of 1879, the others of 1882—and those at 8-11 and 15 Chelsea Embankment
+of 1878-9; but more are by other architects, and the vast majority by builders. In
+the Chelsea Embankment range River House at No. 3 is by Bodley; Nos 4-6 are by
+Godwin; and No. 7 is by R. Phéné Spiers (1838-1916), an architect whose Parisian training
+did not restrain him from following Shaw.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Collingham Gardens of 1881-7 by Sir Ernest George (1839-1922) and his then partner
+Harold A. Peto (?-1890), a sort of square with variously designed houses, all gabled, opening
+on to a lawn in the centre, provides a still more complete illustration of what may be
+called Neo-Picturesque urbanism. Not at all Shavian, the detailing of many of these
+houses is very similar to that of Cuijpers’s Rijksmuseum and none of it Queen Anne.
+The contiguous mansions that George &amp; Peto built in 1882 near by in Harrington Gardens,
+one for W. S. Gilbert at No. 19 (Plate <a href='#pl104b'>104<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), the other for Sir Ernest Cassel, the
+banker, are the most elaborate single London examples of their domestic work. The
+house of the composer of the Savoy Operas approaches very closely the German
+Meistersinger mode of the period, but the touch is much lighter—intentionally whimsical
+perhaps?—and both the organization of the whole and the execution of the profuse
+detail is very superior to what one finds in most contemporary German work (see
+Chapter 9).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Stevenson’s best and most Shavian houses in London are two that he built in 1878 in
+partnership with A. J. Adams in Lowther Gardens behind Lowther Lodge; however,
+those he built at 40-42 Pont Street have a certain interest because the mode that he exploited
+here is often called ‘Pont Street Dutch’, so ubiquitous is it in this part of Chelsea.
+This name also emphasizes the characteristic tendency of the late seventies and eighties
+towards varying the English late seventeenth-century vernacular mode by the introduction
+of Dutch and Flemish elements of detail, usually executed in terracotta, as
+George &amp; Peto did in most of the Earls Court houses mentioned above. Thus, by the
+late seventies, the long-established London tradition of coherent terrace design came to
+an end. That was, on the whole, a real urbanistic misfortune, however excellent some of
+the best individual houses by the above-mentioned architects may be.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shaw’s venture into the suburbs initiated a new domestic tradition of positive value
+and also a tradition of ‘planning’ that has continued with some modification down to
+the present, both in England and abroad. At Bedford Park, Turnham Green, then well
+beyond the western edges of built-up London, Shaw laid out in 1876 and largely designed
+an early ‘Garden Suburb’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>), in fact, almost a ‘new town’, similar
+in some ways to the New Towns of the present post-war period, but without any industries
+of its own. Small houses, mostly semi-detached, i.e., in pairs, stand in their own
+gardens, simply and casually built of good red brick with a certain amount of modest
+Queen Anne detailing. The scheme is very complete, including a church by Shaw that is
+most ingeniously styled to harmonize with the domesticity of the houses, a club, a tavern,
+shops, and so forth.<a id="r270"></a><a href='#f270' class='c025'><sup>[270]</sup></a> Godwin’s assistant Maurice B. Adams (1849-1933) and E. J. May
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>(1853-1941) also worked here, as well as Godwin himself; indeed, some of the best
+houses are not by Shaw but by Godwin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With characteristic versatility, while the construction of Bedford Park was proceeding
+in this simplified version of his middle manner, Picturesque but distinctly anti-Gothic,
+Shaw was also erecting at Adcote in Shropshire in 1877 a large Tudor manor
+house in reddish stone. This is notable for its restrained, almost ‘abstract’, detailing
+and for the tall mullioned window-wall of the hall bay, more than rivalling that of
+Cloverley Hall. Flete, a still larger house in Devon begun the year after Adcote, is also
+Tudor. Dawpool in Cheshire, demolished in 1926, was begun in 1882 in much the
+same mode but was even more extensive and elaborate than Flete. J. F. Doyle (1840-1913)
+of Liverpool collaborated on this.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Bedford Park church of 1878, St Michael’s, is more or less Queen Anne, at least
+not at all Gothic. But at Ilkley in Yorkshire Shaw’s St Margaret’s of the previous year is
+a remarkably personal essay in the Perpendicular, low and broad and elegantly detailed.
+In quality this is well above his earlier Bournemouth church and rather more original in
+its proportions than the standard work of Bodley and his imitators at this time. Somewhat
+similar, and still more original, is St Swithin’s in Gervis Road in Bournemouth,
+also of 1877; while All Saints’, Leek, of 1886 carries almost to the point of parody the
+Shavian stylization of English Late Gothic proportion towards the broad and low—visually,
+that is; ritualistically they are quite as ‘High’ as Bodley’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Next Shaw produced his finest and most creatively conceived church, Holy Trinity,
+Latimer Road, comparable in quality to his early church at Bingley but wholly different
+in character. This was built in 1887-9 for the Harrow Mission in a poor district of
+western London. The interior of Holy Trinity is a single vessel, very broad and moderately
+low, covered by a flat-pointed wooden ceiling which is tied by vigorous horizontal
+members of iron cased in wood and heavily buttressed externally (Plate <a href='#pl106a'>106<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Behind
+the chancel, which is no more than a square dais on which the altar is raised, rises an
+ecclesiastical version of the Shavian window-wall, broad and low like the space it terminates
+but arched and lightly traceried at the top. The result could hardly be more
+different from Shaw’s domestic Queen Anne of these years. It is on such things as this
+church, in which his basic architectural capacities are revealed unconfused by frivolous
+elaboration of detail, that his claim to high talent, occasionally to genius, must be based.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Shaw did not cease to design churches while continually extending the range of his
+secular practice, it is a still more notable testimony to the breadth of his approach that he
+built in 1879, in Kensington Gore between the Albert Hall and Lowther Lodge—and
+with a characteristic disregard for both—the first really handsome block of flats erected
+in London; the first, that is, unless one prefers the Second Empire ones of the late
+sixties in Grosvenor Gardens. The tall and extensive mass of this block, like that of
+most of his houses of the period, is extremely picturesque in silhouette because of the
+very tall and ornate gables that face the Park. But these are quite regularly spaced and the
+walls below them, with the multitudinous segment-arched, white-sashed windows all
+evenly phrased in threes, illustrate Shaw’s Queen Anne of the seventies at its most
+disciplined (Plate <a href='#pl104a'>104<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).<a id="r271"></a><a href='#f271' class='c025'><sup>[271]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>As has been noted, Shaw was by now the preferred architect of most of his fellow
+Royal Academicians. Webb had built houses for several of the Pre-Raphaelite painters
+who were his friends and associates. Less successful and more advanced painters employed
+Godwin. Small though it is and now much remodelled, the White House in
+Tite Street round the corner from the Chelsea Embankment, which Godwin built for
+his friend Whistler in 1878-9, has one of the most original façades of the decade. As its
+name implies, although all of brick, it was not ‘red’ like Morris’s and Stevenson’s
+famous houses, but ‘white’ because the walls were so painted,<a id="r272"></a><a href='#f272' class='c025'><sup>[272]</sup></a> recalling perhaps the
+white-painted Colonial farmhouses of Whistler’s New England youth. The sparse detail
+is related in its vaguely eighteenth-century character to the Shavian Queen Anne,
+but it is much more delicate and linear, indeed almost Late Georgian in inspiration.
+Most significantly, the composition of the façade as a whole, and even more evidently
+the asymmetrical placing of the door and windows, owes a great deal to those abstract
+principles of Japanese art which both Whistler and Godwin had been studying for
+almost twenty years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whistler had to sell his house almost as soon as it was finished in order to pay the
+costs of his unhappy libel suit against Ruskin, a legal battle in which the Late Victorian
+and the High Victorian came to violent grips. But Godwin went on to build several
+more studio houses in Tite Street at Nos 29, 33, and 44 in the next few years and also
+the Tower House in 1885. Similar, but inferior, is No. 31 by R. W. Edis, which John
+Singer Sargent later occupied. Also in Tite Street is the commonplace terrace house
+at No. 16, of which the interiors were decorated by Godwin for Oscar Wilde,<a id="r273"></a><a href='#f273' class='c025'><sup>[273]</sup></a>
+the greatest aesthete of them all. Wilde’s influential ideas in this field, carried to America
+on a lecture tour in 1881-2, were largely derived from Godwin, it may be noted.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When Shaw turned again to commercial work it was to design in 1881 the offices for
+the bankers Baring Brothers at 8 Bishopsgate in the City of London. This small building
+was as discreet, as orderly, and almost as domestic as Cheyne House. But the next year,
+so chameleon-like was his development, he gave the more conspicuous Alliance Assurance
+Building at the corner of St James’s Street and Pall Mall opposite St James’s Palace
+broad, low, banded arches of brick and stone below and elaborated the vertical articulation
+of the upper storeys with profuse sculptural ornament.<a id="r274"></a><a href='#f274' class='c025'><sup>[274]</sup></a> Very tall and scallopy
+gables provide a Neo-Picturesque effect only too comparable to the most vulgar ‘Pont
+Street Dutch’ houses designed by his rivals or even to contemporary Northern Renaissance
+work on the Continent. To emphasize his variousness further, there is diagonally
+across the street a later edifice for the same clients, built in collaboration with his pupil
+Ernest Newton (1856-1922) in 1903, so quietly academic in the Neo-Georgian taste of
+the early twentieth century that one can hardly believe it is also Shaw’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>His next important secular works after the first Alliance building, both begun in 1887
+like the Latimer Road church, contrast with each other almost as markedly as they do
+with that. Characteristic of the essentially private patronage—patronage from successful
+artists, patronage from business, patronage from the professional classes—responsible for
+the best English architecture of this period is the fact that Shaw’s first public commission
+came only at this advanced stage of his career. London’s Metropolitan Police Offices in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>New Scotland Yard, of which the original block was built in 1887-8 and the second
+block to the south added in 1890, have a splendid site on the Thames Embankment.
+Remembering, it would seem almost for the first time, his own Scottish birth—or possibly
+in apposite reference to the familiar name of the London police headquarters—Shaw
+designed Scotland Yard somewhat like a Scottish castle with corner tourelles and
+tall curved gables, but using throughout heavy and rather academic later seventeenth-century
+detailing of a much less regional sort (Plate <a href='#pl106b'>106<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Red brick and stone in
+combination make it also as colouristic as the Alliance building, the solidity of the
+proportions makes it weighty, and the high gables and tower roofs give it great variety
+of outline. As a result, the total effect is almost High Victorian in its vigour and its
+massiveness. Shaw is said to have regretted the need to build a second block; certainly it
+must have been more impressive when the original block stood alone like an isolated
+riverside fortress.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Scotland Yard seems to look backward somewhat, at least in relation to that gradual
+development towards orderliness and restraint of an eighteenth-century sort which can
+be discerned in Shaw’s work of the seventies despite all its variousness. On the other
+hand, the house that he built in 1887-8 for Fred White,<a id="r275"></a><a href='#f275' class='c025'><sup>[275]</sup></a> an American diplomat, at 170
+Queen’s Gate, so near to that strikingly aberrant terrace house of the previous decade at
+No. 196, seems to look forward into the early twentieth century, when the eighteenth-century
+Georgian would provide the basis for a quite archaeological revival. This plain
+rectangular block of red brick, orderly and symmetrical on the long façade towards
+Imperial Institute Road and also on the end towards Queen’s Gate, with three ranges
+of large sash-windows below an academic cornice, is therefore as much a historical
+landmark, if not an original creation, as was Glen Andred twenty years
+before (Plate #105:pl105).
+The suave and well-scaled ornamentation is concentrated at the doorway in the
+eighteenth-century manner, and the hip roof is unbroken except by regularly spaced
+dormers. Yet, curiously enough, the plan is somewhat less completely regular and symmetrical
+than one might expect from the exterior; for example, the large drawing-room
+towards Queen’s Gate is
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Only the excellence of the craftsmanship here, based not on the Sussex vernacular but
+on the most sophisticated work of around 1720, the prominence of the tall chimneys,
+and the wide central dormer with its curved top reveal Shaw’s hand and suggest, perhaps,
+an early date; otherwise such a house might well have been built forty years or so
+later by many other architects, English and American (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). However,
+Webb at Smeaton Manor<a id="r276"></a><a href='#f276' class='c025'><sup>[276]</sup></a> in Yorkshire, built in 1877-9, had already arrived at an almost
+identical regularity and formality of design (Plate <a href='#pl102a'>102<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Characteristically, however,
+he did not elaborate the exterior with borrowed eighteenth-century detailing, and the
+house remains almost undatable on internal evidence, like much of his best work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Scotland Yard is an all but unique example of an English public building of distinction
+erected in the eighties. Before continuing with the account of Shaw’s work in the
+nineties, two prominent features of the London skyline, the most striking additions
+made since Butterfield’s spire of All Saints’ rose in Margaret Street in the fifties and the
+Victoria Tower of the Houses of Parliament was completed in the sixties, should be
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>mentioned. Both the Imperial Institute, towering over Shaw’s contiguous Fred White
+house in South Kensington, which was built in 1887-93 in honour of Queen Victoria’s
+first jubilee, and the Catholic cathedral of Westminster, not begun until 1894, are
+especially notable for their very tall dome-topped towers. The cathedral, which was designed
+by J. F. Bentley (1839-1902), a pupil of Clutton, has also a magnificent domed
+interior. The Institute, built by T. E. Collcutt (1840-1924), was perhaps of less over-all interest
+but extremely refined and elegant in its detailing compared to the contemporary
+work of George &amp; Peto, which it most closely resembles. Curiously enough, the very
+underscaled membering and even so dainty a trick as the use of single courses of red
+brick here and there in the stonework does not make the 280-foot tower petty. It may
+be compared to its own very great advantage with Haller’s contemporary tower, in a
+somewhat parallel Northern Renaissance vein, on the Hamburg Rathaus. Collcutt’s
+own earlier tower on the Town Hall at Wakefield in Yorkshire of 1877-80 was less
+successful than this London landmark, which has happily survived the rest of the building.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bentley’s tower has a similar silhouette, but is more boldly striated by broad bands of
+brick and stone. The detail, partly Byzantine, partly Early Renaissance despite his distinguished
+early career as a Late Victorian Gothic church architect, is, like Collcutt’s,
+rather underscaled. This goes still further to prove the extent to which this period
+in England saw all architecture, even that of cathedrals, in domestic terms. However,
+well before Bentley began his cathedral—it is not even yet completed as regards the
+internal decoration—Shaw had turned towards considerably more monumental forms
+at Scotland Yard, and even to quite academic design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Bryanston, a large country house in Dorset begun in 1889 for Lord Portman,
+Shaw modelled the main block on Sir Roger Pratt’s Coleshill House of the mid seventeenth
+century; the side wings here are quite Gibbsian. This is the earliest example of
+what the English call ‘Monumental Queen Anne’—to distinguish this sort of work
+henceforth from the freer and more vernacular Queen Anne of the seventies and eighties—and
+the Americans ‘Georgian Revival’. Two years later Shaw built Chesters in Northumberland.
+This mansion is equally academic, if less derivative from particular sources;
+but it is also highly original in plan and conception. The composition of the incurved
+façade planes, moreover, is as knowing and as ingenious in its formal way as anything
+he ever built in a more rambling vein.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Later in the nineties Shaw’s stylistic uncertainty—or, if one wishes to call it so, his
+versatility—was notably illustrated in two large commercial buildings built in Liverpool.
+The façade of Parr’s Bank in Castle Street, built in 1898 in collaboration with
+W. E. Willink (1856-1924) and P. C. Thicknesse (1860-1920), is of the suavest academic
+order. Its proportions are surer than in any of his other works except Chesters, and yet he
+striated its light-coloured stonework with bands of green marble in a way few later architects
+working in this vein would ever have thought of doing. Two years later, in the
+offices that he built in collaboration with Doyle for Ismay, Imrie &amp; Co., later the White
+Star Line—for whom he also designed the interiors of the liner <i>Oceanic</i>—he provided
+what was externally almost a copy of Scotland Yard, and yet inside he exposed the
+riveted metal structural members in a fashion at once frank and highly decorative.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>If Shaw had had the opportunity to rebuild Nash’s Regent Street Quadrant completely
+according to the designs that he prepared in 1905 the loss of the original work
+might not be so serious. Approaching seventy-five, he turned here to a Piranesian
+Classicism. The colonnaded section finished in 1908, which forms the northern front of
+the Piccadilly Hotel, though flanked at both ends by an emasculated version of Shaw’s
+design carried out in 1923 by his disciple and biographer Sir Reginald Blomfield (1856-1942),
+rivals in boldness anything English architecture had produced since the days of
+Vanbrugh and Hawksmore. Even more spectacular, and also incomplete, since the gable
+at the east end was never built, is the Piccadilly façade of the hotel with its tremendous
+open colonnade raised high against the sky (Plate <a href='#pl107'>107</a>). The Classical serenity of this
+feature is characteristically contrasted with the voluted silhouette of the tall gable over
+the projecting wing at the west end, and the exuberance of the whole puts most other
+Edwardian Neo-Baroque to shame.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To summarize Shaw’s achievement or even to epitomize his personal style is almost
+impossible. He was, for example, in no ordinary sense of the word merely an eclectic;
+yet his modes were very various, more various than those of almost any other nineteenth-century
+architect of equal rank. After his first borrowings from Nesfield, however,
+they were all his own—his own, at least, until hordes of other architects in England
+and America took them up, one or two at a time, often vulgarizing them beyond recognition.
+He was probably not the most talented English architect of his generation and
+certainly not the most original. How much he owed to Nesfield at the start it is impossible
+to estimate, even though at least two of the characteristic Shavian modes seem
+to have been originally of his invention—if not, indeed, of Devey’s!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet ironically Nesfield’s own later work appeared to contemporaries almost like an
+echo of Shaw’s if it was known at all. He never had any such success as did Shaw, and
+died relatively young in 1888. Godwin also was somehow never able, after 1870, to repeat
+the public triumphs that had been his in the competitions of the early sixties. In his
+later life he turned more and more to designing sets and costumes for the theatre and
+died in 1886, two years before Nesfield. Webb lived on till 1915, although he retired
+from practice in 1900; his spirit, moreover, lived on in a quite different way from
+Shaw’s. It was through emulation of the craftsman-like integrity of Webb’s work that
+the attitudes, rather than the forms, of Pugin’s earlier Gothic Revival were transmitted
+to the first modern architects quite as much as through study of the writings of his friend
+and close associate Morris.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>
+  <h2 id='ch13' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 13</span><br />H. H. RICHARDSON AND McKIM, MEAD &amp; WHITE</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> story of Shaw’s career is a fascinating one, far more interesting in fact than the
+general history of English architecture in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. It
+was a success-drama in four or five acts, of which the last was by no means the least brilliant.
+Richardson’s career was less eventful, even though, at its peak in the mid eighties,
+it was at least as successful as Shaw’s. It was also incomplete, since death brought his
+production to an end at that peak when he was only forty-eight. Yet Richardson’s
+achievement must be considered greater than Shaw’s, qualitatively if not quantitatively,
+because his work was better integrated and his development more intelligently directed.
+Moreover, his influence operated on two levels: on one it was as wide, if more evanescent,
+than Shaw’s—say, what Shaw’s might have been if <i>he</i> had died at the age of
+forty-eight, that is, in 1879—on another level it was more like that of Webb, affecting
+deeply several of the most creative American architects of the next two generations.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Henry Hobson Richardson was born in 1838 near New Orleans in Louisiana. Upon
+graduation from Harvard in 1858 Richardson, bilingual on account of his Louisiana
+birth, not unnaturally proceeded to Paris to the École des Beaux-Arts, entering there the
+atelier of L.-J. André (1819-90), a pupil of Lebas who had become a professor at the
+École in 1855. But after two years the outbreak of the Civil War in the United States
+cut off his remittances from home and he had to find work in order to maintain himself.
+His experience in the office of Théodore Labrouste, notably in working on the designs
+for the Asile d’Ivry outside Paris, was perhaps of more ultimate value to him than what
+he learned in André’s atelier and at the École. Several of his earliest works in America,
+designed immediately after his return from Paris in 1865, have been discussed already
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>). It was with the Brattle Square (now First Baptist) Church on Commonwealth
+Avenue at Clarendon Street in the new Back Bay residential district of Boston,
+the commission for which he won in a competition held in 1870, that his career seriously
+began. During the years that this was in construction, 1871-2, he had in his office a
+young assistant, Charles F. McKim (1847-1909), who had returned from Paris at the outbreak
+of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870. It may well be that the forceful McKim
+helped Richardson to crystallize the divergent elements evident in his earlier work into
+a coherent personal style. The Brattle Square Church somewhat resembles in its round-arched
+medievalism such a Paris church of the sixties as Vaudremer’s Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge,
+which Richardson himself may have seen and admired in the early stages of
+its construction. But the squarish
+<span class="sans">T</span>-shaped
+plan, without aisles but with transepts, would
+have been as unusual in France at this period as in England. The material is the richly
+textured Roxbury Puddingstone rising in broad plain surfaces to the medium-pitched
+gables. The detail strikes a sort of balance between the French Romanesquoid and the
+English High Victorian Gothic, the forms being more French, the execution more
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>English. The varied polychromy of the deep voussoirs of the arches is certainly English,
+but with a personal note in the great variety of the coloured banding. The corner placing
+of the tall tower, with its fine frieze by the French sculptor Bartholdi, is English in
+spirit, but its shape is rather more campanile-like than any English church tower had
+been since the forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A similar stylistic crystallization can be seen in the very extensive plant of the State
+Hospital at Buffalo, N.Y., a commission also won by Richardson in competition in 1870.
+This was largely re-designed before construction began in 1872 and was in building
+throughout the whole decade. It was, functionally, the sort of commission for which
+Richardson’s French training best prepared him, and the planning is French. The other
+sources of the design seem to have been mostly English, particularly the projects of
+Burges.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two buildings in Springfield, Mass., where Richardson had been working on and off
+since his return from Paris, are even more significant than the Buffalo asylum for
+the rather definite evidence they offer as to his chief contemporary sources of inspiration
+at this point. The spire of the North Congregational Church there—commissioned as
+early as 1868, but built in 1872-3, after being re-designed in 1871 or 72—is a rather squat
+pyramid of quarry-faced brownstone with four corner spirelets rising from the same
+square base, apparently a version of the spire Burges designed for his Skelton church
+begun in 1871 or that of Street’s St James the Less. The tower of the Hampden County
+Courthouse of 1871-3 also comes from Burges, in this case from the project that he
+entered in the London Law Courts competition of 1866. The general composition owes
+more to the slightly earlier English town halls at Northampton and Congleton by
+Godwin, who was also Burges’s collaborator on the Law Courts project. But the magnificent
+scale of the random ashlar walls of quarry-faced Monson granite, their coldness
+relieved by bright red pointing, is as personal to Richardson as the similar brownstone
+masonry of the North Church and the Buffalo Hospital.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s American Express Building,<a id="r277"></a><a href='#f277' class='c025'><sup>[277]</sup></a> his first work in Chicago, which was begun
+in 1872, and his contemporary Andrews house in Newport, R.I., both showed comparable
+evidence of generic influence from contemporary England
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and 15:ch15#).
+In this same year, 1872, Richardson won the competition for Trinity Church<a id="r278"></a><a href='#f278' class='c025'><sup>[278]</sup></a> in
+Boston, which was to occupy a conspicuous site on the east side of Copley Square, the
+principal open space in the new Back Bay district. Preceding by a year the Panic of 1873,
+which slowed building almost to a standstill, this commission and that for the Buffalo
+Hospital kept him busy through five lean years. As Trinity rose to completion over the
+years 1873-7, this big Boston church established Richardson’s reputation as the new
+leader among American architects (Plate <a href='#pl108a'>108<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Even before Trinity was finished others
+were producing crude imitations of it; and over the next twenty years many prominent
+American churches, particularly in the Middle West, followed in some degree the
+paradigm that it provided.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Trinity is in plan an enlarged and modified version of the Brattle Square Church. A
+deep semicircular chancel provides a fourth arm, and a great square lantern rises over the
+crossing. The elaborate porch, so archaeologically Provençal Romanesque, was added
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>by Richardson’s successors, Shepley, Rutan &amp; Coolidge, in the nineties, as were also the
+tops of the western towers; the present decorations of the chancel are much later and by
+Charles D. Maginnis (1867-1955).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The materials of Trinity are pink Milford granite in quarry-faced random ashlar for the
+walling and the Longmeadow brownstone that he had first used on the Unity Church in
+Springfield for the profuse trim. The detail changed in character as the work proceeded;
+in the earliest portions executed it is heavy and crude, with the foliage carved in a
+naturalistic High Victorian Gothic vein. But the logic of the round arches that Richardson
+had been consistently using since he designed the Brattle Square Church in 1870 led
+him to study Révoil’s <i>Architecture romane du midi de la France</i>,<a id="r279"></a><a href='#f279' class='c025'><sup>[279]</sup></a> and such a characteristic
+feature as the polychromy on the outside of the apse is specifically Auvergnat.
+Moreover, the executed lantern was rather closely based on that of the Old Cathedral of
+Salamanca in Spain—a model that Richardson’s assistant Stanford White (1853-1906),
+who succeeded McKim in his employ in 1872, seems to have suggested.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most contemporaries, supposing all worthy nineteenth-century architecture to be
+necessarily derivative from this or that style of the past, believed that Richardson had
+initiated a Romanesque Revival here. But Richardson remained really as responsive
+to contemporary English ideas as he had been earlier. For example, the curious double-curved
+wooden roof with kingpost trusses derives from published examples of similar
+roofs built or projected by Burges. Equally symptomatic of English influence is the use
+of stained glass by Morris and Burne-Jones in the north transept windows. That glass,
+however, is inferior in richness of tone to the small windows in the west front designed
+by the American artist John LaFarge. LaFarge was also responsible for the painted
+decoration on the walls and the roofs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To take over Fuller &amp; Laver’s New York State Capitol at Albany when already partly
+built in the way that Richardson and Eidlitz—a foreign-born exponent of Romanesque
+of the earlier <i>Rundbogenstil</i> sort, it will be recalled—were asked to do in 1875 was a
+thankless job; but this call for Richardson’s aid illustrates the rapidity with which he
+achieved a national reputation. More important, both historically and intrinsically, than
+what he was able to carry out in Albany—chiefly the Senate Chamber—were a second
+house that he built in Shepard Avenue in Newport, R.I., in 1874-6 and a building in
+Main Street in Hartford, Conn., of 1875-6 (see Chapters <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). The Sherman
+house is the first example of a Shavian manor successfully translated into American
+materials; the Cheney Block (now Brown-Thompson Store) is not Shavian at all, but
+very similar to the arcaded façades common in England since the late fifties (Plate <a href='#pl116a'>116<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To the late seventies belong two remarkably fine buildings, still obviously related to
+slightly earlier English work, but more personal than either the Newport house or the
+Hartford commercial building. With the Winn Memorial Library in Woburn, Mass.,
+of 1877-8 Richardson initiated a line of small-town public libraries that reached its
+climax in the Crane Library in Quincy, Mass., of 1880-3 (Plate <a href='#pl110'>110</a>). The high
+window-bands of the stack wings, a monumental stone version of Shaw’s ‘ribbon-windows’,
+and the stone-mullioned ‘window-walls’ at the ends are more significant
+than the round stair-turrets and the cavernous entrance arches—Early Christian from
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>Syria<a id="r280"></a><a href='#f280' class='c025'><sup>[280]</sup></a> in origin, not Southern French Romanesque, it should be noted—that romanticize
+their generally compact massing. The highly functional planning is asymmetrical
+yet very carefully ordered, perhaps the one remaining trace of his Paris training.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In building Sever Hall, a classroom building for Harvard College in Cambridge,
+Mass., in 1878-80 Richardson abandoned rock-faced granite and brownstone, materials
+whose common use would, a little later, mark the extent of his influence on other
+architects, for the red brick of the nearby eighteenth-century buildings in the old Harvard
+Yard. He even imitated the plain oblong masses of these Georgian edifices under
+his great red-tiled hip-roof; but the front, with its deep Syrian arch and two tower-like
+rounded bays, and the rear, with a broader and shallower central bow, are wholly
+Richardsonian. There is a rather Shavian pediment over the centre of the front, however;
+while the moulded brick mullions of the banked windows and the very rich cut-brick
+panels of floral ornament seem to reflect current English work by Stevenson and by
+Godwin as well as by Shaw. Yet the whole has been amalgamated into a composition
+quite as orderly as anything the English ‘Annites’ had produced. At the same time
+Sever Hall is almost as vigorous and manly in scale as his contemporary libraries of
+granite and brownstone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two domestic buildings of 1880, one entirely shingled, the other of rough glacial
+boulders, are even more personal works; and both, particularly the former, represent the
+American domestic mode of this period now called the ‘Shingle Style’ (see Chapter
+15). The John Bryant house in Cohasset, Mass., of 1880 first illustrated his emancipation
+from the direct Shavian imitation that had begun with the Sherman house and
+continued in several projects—probably mostly White’s work in actual fact—that were
+prepared in the later seventies but never executed. Quite a series of later shingled
+houses by Richardson followed the Bryant house between 1881 and 1886 (Plate <a href='#pl124b'>124<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The contemporary Ames Gate Lodge<a id="r281"></a><a href='#f281' class='c025'><sup>[281]</sup></a> in North Easton, Mass., has a sort of antediluvian
+power in the bold plasticity of its boulder-built walls—a theme exploited once
+before in Grace Church in Medford, Mass., of 1867 it will be recalled—as remote from
+the Romanesque as from the Queen Anne. A similarly absolute originality of a more
+gracious order can be seen in the Fenway Bridge of 1880-1 in Boston; its tawny seam-faced
+granite walls happily echo the easy naturalistic curves of the landscaping by his
+friend F. L. Olmsted (1822-1903),<a id="r282"></a><a href='#f282' class='c025'><sup>[282]</sup></a> of which it is a principal feature.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>1881 saw the initiation of a more monumental building for Harvard, Austin Hall,<a id="r283"></a><a href='#f283' class='c025'><sup>[283]</sup></a>
+then the Law School, which was completed in 1883. Rich Auvergnat polychromy and a
+great deal of rather Byzantinesque carved ornament somewhat confuse the direct structural
+expressiveness of the thoroughly articulated masonry walls; as a result Austin Hall
+provided a multitude of decorative clichés for imitators to abuse. Much more modest
+and also much more significant was the station at Auburndale, Mass., also of 1881, built
+for the Boston &amp; Albany Railroad. This was the first and the finest of a series of small
+suburban stations notable for the simplicity of their design and for the compositional
+skill with which the open elements, carried on sturdy but gracefully shaped wooden
+supports, were related to the solid masonry blocks of granite and brownstone beneath
+sweeping roofs of tile or slate. If Shaw was called on in the nineties to design the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>interiors of an ocean liner for the White Star Line, Richardson had already provided in
+1884 a railway carriage for the Boston &amp; Albany. This was neither Romanesque nor
+Queen Anne in inspiration, but had domestically scaled interiors lined with small square
+oaken panels and no carved ornament of any sort.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Stations, libraries, and houses form the bulk of Richardson’s production from 1882
+until his death. But two much larger buildings, which he himself judged to be his master
+works, were also fortunately initiated, one in 1884 and the other in 1885, well before his
+last illness began, though both had to be finished by his successors Shepley, Rutan &amp;
+Coolidge after his death. The Allegheny County Buildings<a id="r284"></a><a href='#f284' class='c025'><sup>[284]</sup></a> in Pittsburgh, Penna., consist
+of a vast quadrangular courthouse dominated by a very tall tower that rises in the
+centre of the front and a gaol across the street to the rear. Except for the courtyard
+walls, interesting for the variety and the openness of their ranges of granite arcading, the
+courthouse offers on the whole only a sort of summary of his talents; the detail, above
+all, is afflicted with an archaeological dryness that must be due to the increasing dependence
+of his assistants on published documents of medieval carving. The courthouse
+provided, however, the model for many large public buildings in the next few years.
+Among these, the City Hall in Minneapolis, Minn., begun by the local firm of Long &amp;
+Kees in 1887, is not unworthy of comparison with the original, particularly as regards
+the tower. That of Toronto in Canada, built by E. J. Lennox in 1890-9, is less interesting
+but even more monumental; it also signalizes the supersession of English by American
+influence in Canadian architecture at this point, as does the almost equally Richardsonian
+Windsor Station in Montreal begun by the American architect Bruce Price in 1888.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Pittsburgh Jail is a masterpiece of the most personal order, Piranesian in scale,
+nobly expressive of its gloomy purpose, and as superb an example of granite masonry as
+exists in the world (Plate <a href='#pl108b'>108<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). It epitomizes Richardson’s genius where the courthouse
+merely summarizes his talents.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s highest achievement, however, was in the field of private building not
+in that of the public monument. By a happy coincidence his ultimate masterpiece rose
+in Chicago where, at this very moment, technical advances in construction were being
+made that would soon bring to a climax the whole story of nineteenth-century commercial
+architecture (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Chicago retains Richardson’s last great masonry
+house, that of 1885-7 for J. J. Glessner, almost as perfect a domestic paradigm of granite
+construction as the Pittsburgh Jail. To her shame, however, Richardson’s Marshall
+Field Wholesale Store, built during the same years, was torn down a generation ago to
+provide a car park.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Field store occupied an entire block with a dignity and a grandeur no other commercial
+structure had ever attained before (Plate <a href='#pl116b'>116<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Internally it was of iron-skeleton
+construction; externally the arcaded masonry walls represented a development from
+those of the Cheney Building of ten years earlier (Plate <a href='#pl116a'>116<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Segmental arches covered
+the broad low openings in the massive ground storey, all built of great ashlar blocks of
+rock-faced red Missouri granite. The next three storeys, built of brownstone, were
+combined under a single range of broad arches, yet also articulated within these
+arched openings by stone mullions and transoms. Above this stage the rhythm doubled,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>with the windows of the next two storeys joined vertically under narrower arches. The
+scale of the quarry-faced ashlar was graded down as the walls rose, quite as were the window
+sizes, and the non-supporting spandrels were filled with small square blocks. The
+full thickness of the bearing masonry walls was revealed at all the openings. Finally there
+came a trabeated attic of somewhat Schinkel-like character over which appeared almost
+the only carved detail on the building, a boldly crocketed cornice. That was ‘Early
+French’, i.e., of twelfth-century Gothic rather than Romanesque or Byzantine inspiration.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The result was a monument as bold and almost as Piranesian in its scale and its forcefulness
+as the Pittsburgh Jail; but the walls were also as open, as continuously fenestrated,
+as those of the court of the Pittsburgh Courthouse. The logical and expressive
+design of commercial buildings with walls of bearing masonry could hardly be carried
+further. But in the very year that the Field Store was finished Holabird &amp; Roche, in
+designing the Tacoma Building, also in Chicago, first showed how the exterior of such
+edifices might express instead a newly developed sort of construction that allowed the
+internal metal skeleton to carry the external cladding of masonry (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In one last commercial building, much more obscurely located and built of far less
+sumptuous materials, which was started just before Richardson’s death—it was only
+commissioned after his last illness had begun—he carried the logic of the design of the
+Field Store one step farther. It was almost as if he had already sensed, like Holabird &amp;
+Roche, the implications of the Home Insurance Building in Chicago of 1883-5 by their
+former employer William Le Baron Jenney, in which the new sort of construction was
+first used but not at all expressed. On Richardson’s Ames Building in Harrison Avenue
+in Boston a tall arcade rose almost the full height of the wall beneath a machicolated
+attic; the depth of the reveals around the sash at the sides of the brick piers was
+minimized; and above the ground storey the spandrels were of metal panels set almost
+flush with both piers and sash.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When Richardson died in 1886 the evidence of his great late works indicates that his
+powers were at their highest. His office, moreover, had never been busier. How Richardson
+might have developed further it is impossible to say. In the hands of his imitators
+the Richardsonian mode did not grow in any very creative way during the decade
+or more that it continued a favourite for churches, public buildings, and even houses
+built of masonry. Those who had been closest to Richardson when his style was
+maturing, McKim and White, rarely imitated him; even before his death, in fact, they
+had already set under way a reaction against the Richardsonian. Their buildings and not
+his provide the real American analogue to the later work of Shaw in England. Moreover,
+their leadership succeeded his in many professional circles from coast to coast
+almost before he was dead.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Leaving aside the modes inherited from the sixties, in any case transmuted almost beyond
+recognition by the early eighties if not yet entirely superseded, there were at the
+time of Richardson’s death three main currents in American architecture as against the
+four or five more or less Shavian modes then popular in England. One was the Richardsonian.<a id="r285"></a><a href='#f285' class='c025'><sup>[285]</sup></a>
+This was practised with some success by various Boston firms such as Peabody
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>&amp; Stearns and Van Brunt &amp; Howe. It had been carried to Kansas City, Missouri, by Van
+Brunt, moreover, and it was being developed with some originality by other Middle
+Westerners such as George D. Mason (1856-1948) in Detroit, D. H. Burnham (1846-1912)
+and his partner J. W. Root (1850-91), H. I. Cobb (1859-1931) and his partner
+Frost, and several other firms in Chicago. The very able designer Harvey Ellis (1852-1904),<a id="r286"></a><a href='#f286' class='c025'><sup>[286]</sup></a>
+working for L. S. Buffington (1848?-1931) in Minneapolis, should also be mentioned.
+Another current was represented by the development leading towards the
+Chicago skyscrapers of the nineties, in Richardson’s last years more in the hands of
+technicians than of architects (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The third, and for the next few years the most expansive, current was what can
+already be called the Academic Reaction. This was parallel to, yet already pushing well
+ahead of, Shaw’s somewhat coy approach to a programmatic revival of eighteenth-century
+forms; and McKim, Mead &amp; White were its acknowledged leaders.<a id="r287"></a><a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a> During
+the years that White was working for Richardson he seems to have been devotedly
+Shavian. Certain unexecuted house projects from the Richardson office which White
+signed, done for the Cheney family of Manchester, Conn., the clients for Richardson’s
+Cheney Block in Hartford, make this particularly evident. When White replaced
+Bigelow in the firm of McKim, Mead &amp; Bigelow, on his return from the European trip
+that he took after leaving Richardson in 1878, he found McKim designing Shavian
+houses with a considerably less sure decorative touch than his own. The McKim,
+Mead &amp; White country houses that followed, however, such as that for H. Victor
+Newcomb in Elberon, N.J., of 1880-1 (Plate <a href='#pl125a'>125<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), that for Isaac Bell, Jr, in Newport,
+R.I., of 1881-2 (Plate <a href='#pl126'>126</a>), and that for Cyrus McCormick in Richfield Springs, N.Y.,
+of the same years, represent in several ways a real advance over Richardson’s Sherman
+house.<a id="r288"></a><a href='#f288' class='c025'><sup>[288]</sup></a> Such an advance is equally to be observed in various houses built around Boston
+in these years by W. R. Emerson (1833-1918) and by Arthur Little (1852-1925), the
+very earliest of which doubtless influenced Richardson when he designed the Bryant
+house (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For McKim, Mead &amp; White’s Tiffany house in New York of 1882-3, all of tawny
+‘Roman’ brick with much moulded brick detail, the inspiration was largely Shavian
+also; only the rock-faced stone base and the broad low entrance arch were at all Richardsonian.
+In the New York house that they began the next year, however—really a group
+of houses arranged in a
+<span class="sans">U</span> around
+an open court across Madison Avenue from the rear of St Patrick’s
+Cathedral—for the railway magnate Henry Villard an entirely different,
+even quite opposed, spirit appears (Plate <a href='#pl109b'>109<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The
+Villard houses, although on Villard’s insistence still built of
+brownstone rather than of light-coloured limestone, are as much a High
+Renaissance Italian <i>palazzo</i> as anything Barry or his
+contemporaries on the Continent ever designed in the preceding sixty
+years. Reputedly Joseph M. Wells (1853-90), an assistant in the McKim,
+Mead &amp; White office who later refused membership in the firm, was
+responsible for the decision to follow Roman models of around 1500,
+most notably the Cancelleria Palace, as that was known to him—he had
+never been abroad—through the plates of Letarouilly’s <i>Édifices de
+Rome moderne</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This type of design represented a conscious reaction against the Neo-Picturesque,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>whether Richardsonian, Shavian, or <i>François I</i>, a return to formal order of the most
+drastic sort. It represented also a return to close archaeological imitation of a style from
+the past such as had ended in America, on the whole, with the decline of the Greek
+Revival a generation earlier. Curiously enough this turn was also something of a declaration
+of independence from Europe, since the American Academic Reaction as initiated
+in the design of the Villard houses seems to have had no contemporary sources abroad.
+However much Shaw’s Queen Anne had, for about a decade, been moving towards an
+equivalent formality—of a more eighteenth-century sort—Shaw had neither gone as yet
+so far in this direction nor did he ever turn to the High Renaissance for his models. Continental
+parallels in the eighties are not hard to find in the work of such men as Balat in
+Belgium, Koch in Italy, and Wagner in Austria; but their current production was
+probably not known in the United States, whose foreign relations in architecture had
+always been largely restricted to England, France, and Germany.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This American return to order was at first more significant for its absolute aspect than
+for its archaeological bent. Although McKim, Mead &amp; White used a Renaissance arcade
+at the base of their Goelet Building erected in Broadway at 20th Street in New York in
+1885-6, the upper storeys of this modest skyscraper offer a very free, and at the same
+time a highly regularized, expression of the hive of offices behind, and even of the metal
+grid of the internal skeleton. Certain houses by McKim, Mead &amp; White in New York
+of these years were even freer from the imitation of specific Italian precedents; while
+their Wm. G. Low house of as late as 1886-7, on the seashore south of Bristol, R.I., is a
+masterpiece of the ‘Shingle Style’ despite the tightness and formality of its plan (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Carefully ordered under its single broad gable, which even subsumes the
+veranda at the southern end, the Low house is yet quite without reminiscent detail or,
+indeed, much of any detail at all (Plate <a href='#pl127'>127</a>). In a group of small houses at Tuxedo Park,
+not at all academic in their exterior treatment, Bruce Price (1845-1903) was reorganizing
+the open plan of the Americanized Queen Anne in a schematically symmetrical way
+at just this time also (Plate <a href='#pl125b'>125<span class='fss'>B</span></a>; Figure 28).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The possibility of a revival of the American Colonial and Post-Colonial in all their
+successive phases from the medievalism of the seventeenth-century origins to what can
+be called the ‘Carpenters’ Adam’ of 1800 had been in the air ever since the early seventies,
+when McKim had added a Neo-Colonial room to a real Colonial house in Newport, R.I.
+In the local Colonial architecture Americans found obvious parallels to the seventeenth-
+and eighteenth-century precedent that Shaw was exploiting in England.<a id="r289"></a><a href='#f289' class='c025'><sup>[289]</sup></a> The ‘Shingle
+Style’ employed various features and treatments—such as the all-over covering of
+shingles itself—that recall American work of the periods before 1800. But because of the
+continued strength of inherited Picturesque ideals there was no programmatic imitation
+of formal eighteenth-century house design before the mid eighties. Even such a highly
+orderly example as Little’s Shingleside House at Swampscott, Mass., of 1880-1 was still
+quite un-archaeological. Interestingly enough, this seems to have been about the first up-to-date
+American house to be published in a foreign magazine<a id="r290"></a><a href='#f290' class='c025'><sup>[290]</sup></a> since the <i>Allgemeine
+Bauzeitung</i> in 1846 presented examples of Greek Revival terrace-houses in New York.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Following on the completion of the Bramantesque Villard houses in New York in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>1885, McKim, Mead &amp; White built in Newport, R.I., in 1885-6 the H. A. C. Taylor
+house, lately destroyed, which was as Neo-Georgian, in its American Colonial way, as
+the Fred White house Shaw began in London two years later. For this the American
+architects adopted the symmetrical Anglo-Palladian plan of the mid eighteenth century
+and capped the resultant rectangular mass with the special gable-over-hip roof of
+Colonial Newport. Elaborately embellished with Palladian windows and with much
+carved detail of a generically Georgian order, the Taylor house provided a new formula
+of design for domestic work that soon superseded almost completely the ‘Shingle
+Style’. From the Taylor house stems that mature Colonial Revival which was to last
+longer in the end in America than had the Greek Revival.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Down to the early nineties, however, McKim, Mead &amp; White were rarely so programmatic
+in their Neo-Colonial work, and their principal public building of the late
+eighties, the Boston Public Library, was entirely Italianate (Plate <a href='#pl111'>111</a>). In 1887 they were
+commissioned to build this major monument on the west side of Copley Square. There
+it was to face the Trinity Church that had initiated the Richardsonian wave more than
+a decade earlier—a monument in whose designing, moreover, both McKim and White
+had actually participated. The Library as built in 1888-92 was a major challenge to the
+Richardsonian, at least as contemporaries then generally understood and employed what
+they thought was Richardson’s mode. The contrast it offers to the church opposite is
+almost as great as to the prominent but low-grade High Victorian Gothic structures
+that flanked the new site to north and south, the New Old South Church by Cummings
+&amp; Sears of the mid seventies, still standing across Boylston Street, and the contemporaneous
+Museum of Fine Arts by John H. Sturgis (?-1888) and Charles Brigham
+(?-1925) which long occupied the south side of the square.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Trinity is dark and rich in colour, a complex pile rising massively to its large central
+lantern. Moreover, it was flanked at the left on the Boylston Street side, where Richardson
+took Picturesque advantage of the corner cut off his site by Huntington Avenue,
+with an asymmetrically organized and domestically scaled parish house. The Library is
+light coloured and monochromatic, all of a smooth-cut Milford granite ashlar originally
+almost white and even today much lighter than the rock-faced pink Milford granite of
+Trinity. It is, moreover, a simple quadrangular mass, capped by a pantiled<a id="r291"></a><a href='#f291' class='c025'><sup>[291]</sup></a> hip-roof of
+moderate height; the scale throughout is monumental and the detail sparse but eminently
+suave. Yet if the contrast with Richardson’s Trinity of 1873-7 is so great—and even
+greater with the ponderous vernacular Richardsonian as that was long illustrated south
+of the Library in the all-brownstone S. S. Pierce Store just built by S. Edwin Tobey
+in 1887—the continuity with Richardson’s work of the mid eighties is equally notable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For example, none of Richardson’s own late work was polychromatic. Three of his
+more prominent edifices, the Allegheny County Buildings in Pittsburgh and the Glessner
+and MacVeagh houses in Chicago, were all of light-coloured granite, while the
+Warder house in Washington is of smooth-cut limestone such as Wells had wished to
+use for the Villard houses. Above all, the quadrangular block of the Boston Library
+with its regular arcuated fenestration parallels rather closely the design of Richardson’s
+just completed masterpiece, the Marshall Field Store. Thus, in fact, Richardson’s former
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>assistants, for all the Renaissance precedent of their detailing—and the courtyard of
+tawny Roman brick is almost more Bramantesque in treatment than the Villard houses—were
+to a very notable extent only proceeding farther in a direction that he himself had
+already taken.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since most contemporaries, in their innocence, thought the Richardsonian merely a
+Romanesque Revival, it is understandable that they saw in such things as the Villard
+houses and the Boston Public Library an alternative—and anti-Richardsonian—Renaissance
+Revival. Nor can it be denied that the handling of the exterior of the
+Library derives from the sides of Alberti’s Tempio Malatestiano in Rimini almost as
+directly as the arcade in the court is copied from that of the Cancelleria Palace in Rome.<a id="r292"></a><a href='#f292' class='c025'><sup>[292]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The stair-hall, the reading-room, and even the minor corridors reveal clearly their
+Letarouillian origins when they are studied in the architects’ drawings, drawings which
+imitate the very style of draughtsmanship of Letarouilly’s plates. The stair-hall, executed
+in yellow Siena marble, has walls decorated allegorically by the French painter Puvis de
+Chavannes, generally considered the greatest muralist of the age; the delivery room
+has an entirely different sort of illustrative Shakespearean frieze painted by Edwin A.
+Abbey; the hall in the top storey contains John Singer Sargent’s most ambitious murals.
+The associated sculpture by Augustus St Gaudens and others is less interesting; but these
+notable decorative increments from the hands of painters and sculptors of considerable
+reputation help to explain why for a generation this building was thought to have
+initiated a real ‘American Renaissance’ in which all the arts participated. Of this ‘Renaissance’
+an international exhibition represented the moment of early triumph.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When, in 1891, it was decided to hold in Chicago the first American international
+exhibition in recognition of the 400th anniversary of the discovery of America by
+Columbus, the initial architectural responsibility lay with the Chicago firm of Burnham
+&amp; Root. They were working at that very moment on two of the most remarkable of
+early Chicago skyscrapers, the Reliance Building (Plate <a href='#pl115b'>115<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) begun in 1890, which
+eventually offered the frankest expression of the new all-skeleton construction, and the
+Monadnock Building begun the next year, which was the last very tall building to have
+exterior walls of bearing masonry (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). The more representational Chicago
+skyscrapers of this period by Burnham &amp; Root, the Women’s Temple and the Masonic
+Building, were of generically Richardsonian character; and Richardsonian influence was
+never stronger and more general in Chicago than in the five years following his death.
+But the principal buildings of the World’s Columbian Exposition,<a id="r293"></a><a href='#f293' class='c025'><sup>[293]</sup></a> as they rose in
+1892-3, proved to be neither Richardsonian nor at all expressive of metal construction in
+the way of those at the Paris Exhibitions of 1878 and 1889 (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Burnham in 1891 called in various leading Eastern architects to assist him in designing
+the World’s Fair, as the Chicago exhibition was usually called. Then in that same year
+his partner Root, the designer of the pair, died. So it came about that the Easterners, not
+so much the ageing Hunt, dean of the profession, as the energetic and executive McKim,
+called the tune; McKim even provided Burnham with a new designer in the person of
+Charles B. Atwood (1849-95) to replace Root. The Fair, with the landscape architect
+Olmsted to collaborate on the planning, came out a great ‘White City’, the most complete
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>new urbanistic concept<a id="r294"></a><a href='#f294' class='c025'><sup>[294]</sup></a> to be realized since the replanning of Paris and of Vienna
+in the third quarter of the century (Figure <a href='#i231'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The metal-and-glass construction of the regular ranges of vast exhibition buildings
+was almost entirely hidden by the elaborately columniated façades of white plaster that
+were reflected, dream-like, in Olmsted’s formal lagoons. The architects’ inspiration was
+generically academic, not specifically Italianate or Classical, and only one or two small
+State pavilions followed Colonial Revival models. The dominant scale was very large
+indeed, and the façades of the various buildings, although by many different architects
+both Eastern and Western, were surprisingly harmonious. The young men back from
+the École in Paris must have worked overtime to bring up to McKim’s increasingly
+academic standards the projects of various well-established architects who had been
+doing more or less Richardsonian work for the last decade.</p>
+
+<div id='i231'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i231.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 20. D. H. Burnham and F. L. Olmsted: Chicago, World’s Fair, 1893, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the major importance of the Shavian influence in America around 1880, after
+the designing of the Villard houses in 1883 American architects moved far more rapidly
+than Shaw himself along the path towards abstract order and stylistic discipline. The
+H. A. C. Taylor house introduced, in an American version, the formal eighteenth-century
+revival—whether one calls it ‘Monumental Queen Anne’ or ‘Neo-Georgian’—before
+Shaw began his house for Fred White. It is even perhaps significant that this was
+done for an American client. The World’s Fair of the early nineties brought to the fore
+a more Classical and ordered sort of Neo-Academicism than Shaw ever reached. By
+the standards of the next generation, for example, Atwood’s Fine Arts Building at Chicago
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>(Plate <a href='#pl109a'>109<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), though based on a Prix de Rome project of 1857, was more advanced than
+Shaw’s Piccadilly Hotel of 1905-8 (Plate <a href='#pl107'>107</a>). The Paris Exhibition of 1889 was notable
+for its great feats of metal construction, Eiffel’s Tower (Plate <a href='#pl130a'>130<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and Contamin’s
+Galerie des Machines (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). But the façades of the Grand Palais built for the
+Paris Exhibition of 1900, executed permanently in stone, seem merely a solider realization
+of the plaster ‘dream-city’ that Burnham and McKim had conjured up on the
+Chicago lake-front earlier in the decade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whether or not there was really influence from Chicago on Paris in the late
+nineties, there can be no question that the influence of the Fair in America was very
+great indeed. While the buildings of the Fair were rising in 1892 the young Frank
+Lloyd Wright built his Blossom house in Chicago in rather obvious emulation of
+McKim, Mead &amp; White’s Taylor house (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). The following year he submitted
+in competition a completely academic project for a Museum and Library in
+Milwaukee. Moreover, this project, based on Perrault’s east front of the Louvre, was
+more suave in its academicism than the buildings that Richardson’s successors, Shepley,
+Rutan &amp; Coolidge, who had already gone over like almost everyone else to the McKim
+camp, were erecting that year for the Chicago Public Library and for the Chicago Art
+Institute on Michigan Avenue.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is the great historical paradox of this period in Chicago that at the very time the
+academic triumph of the Fair was being prepared, nineteenth-century commercial
+architecture was also reaching its climax there. Even before Richardson died, his tradition
+had split in the mid eighties. One side of it, that related to his own French training
+and his dependence on various styles of the past, limited though that was, as also his
+growing concern with architectonic order, went forward under the leadership of
+McKim (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). The other side, derived from his sense of materials, at once
+intelligent and intuitive, and his interest in functional expression—the qualities that
+were most notable in his shingled houses and his commercial buildings—provided the
+platform from which first Sullivan and then Wright in the late eighties and the nineties
+advanced to the creation of the first modern architecture (see Chapters <a href='#ch14'>14</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the importance of Richardson and, indeed, that of Shaw—as regards the development
+of domestic architecture—are to be fully appreciated the stories of the general development
+of the commercial building and of the dwelling-house in England and America
+down to 1900 must be known. Of the two, that of commercial architecture is the
+simpler and also the more dramatic. The culmination of this story in the American skyscrapers
+of the nineties has been recognized, from the time when so many foreign
+visitors came to Chicago in 1893 on account of the Fair, as one of the major and most
+characteristic architectural achievements of the whole period with which this volume
+deals.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>
+  <h2 id='ch14' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 14</span><br />THE RISE OF COMMERCIAL ARCHITECTURE IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> line of technical development which runs from the cast-iron-framed textile mills
+of the 1790s in England to the steel-framed skyscrapers of the 1890s in America seems to
+posterity a simple and obvious one. But, in fact, various lags and cul-de-sacs make the
+story long and complex. The most significant technical advances in iron construction
+of the first half of the century were not in the commercial field, and the account in
+this chapter is by no means merely a repetition and a continuation of the story of iron
+construction down to 1855 that has been provided earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+<p class='c010'>The great difference between the Benyons, Marshall &amp; Bage mill of 1796 at Shrewsbury,
+which initiated metal-skeleton structure, and Sullivan’s Guaranty Building in
+Buffalo, N.Y., of a century later is that the English mill is purely and simply a technical
+feat of construction quite without architectural pretension. If not literally anonymous,
+the mill was certainly the work of a millwright rather than an architect; the skyscraper,
+on the other hand, is a prime architectural monument of the long period of a century
+and a half that this book covers, and the masterpiece of one of the greatest and most
+creatively original designers that the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have produced
+(Plate <a href='#pl119'>119</a>). But the skyscrapers of the 1890s do represent also the culmination of developments
+in the field of construction that began with the English mills of the 1790s, even if
+those developments are far from being the whole story of nineteenth-century commercial
+architecture. How office buildings were gradually received into the realm of
+architecture and, by the end of the nineteenth century, had risen so high in that realm
+that few productions of the 1890s in other fields of building can compare in quality
+of design with the great early skyscrapers is perhaps more significant for western
+culture in general than the purely technical aspect of the story. The weaving together of
+these two strands makes the full story one of the most interesting and complex in the
+history of nineteenth-century architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nineteenth-century commercial building need not be very precisely defined. It includes
+several slightly different sorts of edifices suitable for the needs of business, all consisting
+of a succession of identical upper storeys subdivided into offices or storerooms,
+with or without shops or representational premises below. Highly specialized and very
+lucrative concerns such as banks and insurance companies, to whom prestige of various
+sorts increasingly appeared a major desideratum, were the first to seek dignity and architectural
+display by employing architects of established reputation. Such agencies also
+desired buildings that were fire-resistant quite as much as did contemporary mill-owners.
+Already in Soane’s earliest work at the Bank of England he emulated, as has been
+noted, certain French technical advances that had just been employed by Louis in the
+Théâtre Français in Paris before these advances were first adopted in an English
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>textile mill (see Chapters <a href='#ch01'>1</a> and <a href='#ch07'>7</a>). Along Regent Street, around 1820, Nash and
+others housed less pretentious types of business in structures of mixed character and of
+less completely fireproof construction. But the premises on the ground floor here
+generally required very wide shop-windows of the sort that the use of iron supports
+made possible, even though the upper storeys were still nearly identical with those of
+domestic terraces.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Boston in the mid twenties Parris was designing for the streets flanking his
+Market Hall commercial façades of a much more novel character, using not iron but
+granite in monolithic posts and lintels to provide a masonry skeleton filled with wide
+and close-set windows in all the storeys (Plate <a href='#pl112b'>112<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).<a id="r295"></a><a href='#f295' class='c025'><sup>[295]</sup></a> In later Boston work of the
+next two decades in this tradition architects such as Isaiah Rogers and various builders
+employed iron for internal supports and sometimes also on the exterior at ground-floor
+level. But the granite ‘skeleton’ front preceded the skeletonized all cast-iron front in
+America by precisely a quarter of a century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In England in the forties complete internal skeletons of iron carrying jack arches
+of brick or tile, hitherto used chiefly in textile mills, were increasingly adopted for
+superior commercial work, but the characteristic exteriors of commercial buildings<a id="r296"></a><a href='#f296' class='c025'><sup>[296]</sup></a> remained
+entirely of bearing masonry construction. However, in one case at least, a small
+block at 50 Watling Street in London which was probably built before 1844, the iron
+came through to the outer surface in the continuous window-bands of the upper
+storeys, even though the corner piers and the sections of wall between the storeys were
+of solid brickwork.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From C. R. Cockerell, titular Architect of the Bank of England after Soane’s retirement
+in 1833, and other architects such as Hopper, banks and insurance companies in
+London and other large cities obtained in the thirties and forties distinguished buildings
+all of masonry. In one especially fine edifice, erected in 1849-50 purely for use as offices,
+Bank Chambers behind Cockerell’s monumental Branch Bank of England of 1845-8,
+in Cook Street in Liverpool, he closely approached the directness of trabeated masonry
+expression of the contemporary Boston architects and builders (Plate <a href='#pl112a'>112<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The fireproof
+construction was of vaulted masonry throughout, moreover, with iron used only
+for the skylights over the stair-wells.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For the general character of commercial architecture down to the late fifties, however,
+A. &amp; G. Williams’s Brunswick Buildings of 1841-2, also in Liverpool, were more
+significant. In this very large quadrangular block of general offices they followed the
+<i>palazzo</i> model provided by Barry’s newly completed Reform Club almost as closely as
+George Alexander had already done in his Bath Savings Bank the year before. The
+<i>palazzo</i> mode soon became the favourite one for imposing commercial architecture in
+Britain and, before long, in the United States as well.<a id="r297"></a><a href='#f297' class='c025'><sup>[297]</sup></a> With its regular rows of good-sized
+windows and its special prestige of having housed a commercial aristocracy in
+Renaissance times, this had certain aspects of suitability, both real and symbolical, to the
+needs of business-men. It also had serious disadvantages which soon led to a gradual
+modulation away from the earlier formulas of design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The wide spacing of the windows demanded by correct <i>palazzo</i> precedent was
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>awkward for offices requiring that maximum of natural light which was so readily
+provided by Parris and others in their granite buildings in Boston and by the unknown
+designer of 50 Watling Street in London. Therefore windows were soon much enlarged
+and also set closer together. Sometimes, moreover, as in a large cotton warehouse built
+in Parker Street in Manchester in 1850 by J. E. Gregan (1813-55), the increasingly heavy
+frames were applied only to every other opening. Properly, such ‘palaces’ ought not to
+be more than three storeys high, but the rapidly rising value of good sites in urban business
+districts made it ever more desirable to carry office buildings to four and five
+storeys like the terrace houses of the period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Already in the Sun Assurance Offices in Threadneedle Street in the City of London,
+designed in 1839 and built in 1841-2, which do not in fact conform at all closely to the
+standard <i>palazzo</i> formula, Cockerell not only opened the ground floor with an arcade
+of haunched-segmental arches but also linked his two topmost floors behind an engaged
+colonnade in order to reduce the apparent height of the façade to three storeys. Across
+the street in the Royal Exchange Buildings of 1844-5 Edward l’Anson (1812-88) in
+1844-5 lifted his whole palace front above a tall glazed arcade and tied the top-storey
+windows into a sort of frieze as Barry had already done in the second storey of the Reform
+Club (Plate <a href='#pl035b'>35<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In Manchester l’Anson’s cousin Edward Walters (1808-72) in
+the Silas Schwabe Building of 1845 at 41 Mosley Street linked the windows of the first
+and second storeys by an applied arcade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The building with an exterior entirely of cast iron that James Bogardus (1800-74)
+designed and built for his own use in New York in 1848-50 was well publicized at the
+time,<a id="r298"></a><a href='#f298' class='c025'><sup>[298]</sup></a> and is still famous although long since demolished. On the corner of Washington
+and Murray Streets in New York another Bogardus building, the Laing stores erected
+in two months in 1849, is still extant (Plate <a href='#pl067b'>67<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Although there was never any such
+general use of cast-iron fronts in Great Britain as in America in the fifties and sixties, it
+seems probable from contemporary evidence that some architect, probably Owen Jones,
+built one at 76 Oxford Street in London a year or so before 1851. However that may be,
+an ironfounder named McConnel provided the structural elements for an office building
+that still stands<a id="r299"></a><a href='#f299' class='c025'><sup>[299]</sup></a> in Jamaica Street, Glasgow, in 1855 with an exterior all of cast iron.
+A curious feature of the design of this structure is the delicate iron membering that
+forms a series of arcades between the major structural piers. This decorative device,
+structurally meaningless in iron except for bracing although employed by Paxton at
+the Crystal Palace, is probably an imitation of the masonry arcading that was, in the mid
+fifties, gradually modifying the earlier <i>palazzo</i> paradigm quite beyond recognition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1849 Wild used two ranges of Italian Gothic arcades on his St Martin’s Northern
+Schools in London, and the perspicacious Street remarked in an article on the obvious
+suitability of the theme for commercial fronts, as has already been noted. In Manchester
+in 1851 Starkey &amp; Cuffley in a pair of shops employed ranges of three arches on each
+of the two fronts in the four storeys, binding them in with coupled columns marking
+the ends of the party walls.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The lifting of the window tax in 1851 encouraged great increases in window area. In
+jubilant recognition of this H. R. Abraham the next year made all his windows triplets
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>in the first and second storeys of the W. H. Smith Building at 188-192 Strand in London,
+but without using any arches at all. Two years later, however, in a building for
+Heal’s furniture store in Tottenham Court Road in London, James M. Lockyer (1824-65)
+carried a <i>quattrocento</i> arcade all across the first storey.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By this time architects and public alike had become aware of a different High Renaissance
+formula from Barry’s (see Chapter <a href='#ch04'>4</a>). Beside the Reform Club in Pall Mall
+Sydney Smirke’s new front of the Carlton Club, designed in 1847, was coming to
+belated completion in the mid fifties. Moreover, its Sansovinesque arcades were already
+echoed in the first storey of Parnell &amp; Smith’s Army and Navy Club of 1848-51 across
+the way. These London models were closely followed by William B. Gingell (1819-1900)
+in his West of England Bank in Corn Street, Bristol, of 1854 and quite outranked
+by the great Venetian <i>palazzo</i> that David Rhind (?-1883) erected in 1855 in Prince’s
+Street in Edinburgh for the Life Association of Scotland.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Possibly the fine warehouse at 12 Temple Street in Bristol with three groups of triplet
+arches in each of the upper storeys is by Gingell and of this date. There is none of the
+Sansovinesque lushness of his bank here, but the fine workmanship of the quarry-faced
+Pennant stone walls laid up in random ashlar, with smooth-cut Bath stone trim and
+coloured voussoirs banding the arches, bears some resemblance to the Bristol General
+Hospital he was building in 1853-7, notably in the very bold rustication of the ground-storey
+arches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However that may be, two London buildings of 1855 advanced nearly as far towards
+the all-arcaded front. Hodgson’s Building by Knowles in the Strand at the corner of
+Chancery Lane had the general character of a <i>palazzo</i>, but all the windows were arched,
+as in buildings of the <i>Rundbogenstil</i>; moreover their trim sank into the wall rather than
+projecting from it, so that the wall sections between were reduced visually to mere piers,
+even though they had no imposts. The Crown Life Office, in New Bridge Street,
+Blackfriars, was built in 1855-7 by Ruskin’s friends Deane &amp; Woodward, with whom
+he was most closely associated precisely in those years. The round-arched medieval
+arcading of this façade, with the piers hardly narrower than on Knowles’s building yet
+articulated by bases and imposts, may surely claim Ruskinian sanction. Here, at any rate,
+was the first important contact between advanced High Victorian Gothic and the commercial
+world, a contact destined to be very fruitful over the next fifteen years or so.
+Henceforth even architects of no aesthetic pretension were ready to exploit arcading.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The English development of arcaded masonry façades can be closely matched in
+America, specifically in Philadelphia.<a id="r300"></a><a href='#f300' class='c025'><sup>[300]</sup></a> There S. D. Button (1803-97), Napoleon Le
+Brun (1821-1901), and others in buildings of 1852-3 in Chestnut Street—that at 239-241
+by Button is still extant—consistently used arched openings between slim piers; and
+Notman in 1855 provided for the Jackson Building at 418 Arch Street a façade even
+more completely articulated by arcading in all its four floors than the Crown Life
+Office. By this time, moreover, the trabeated design of Bogardus’s first iron fronts had
+likewise given way to ornate arcading in emulation of masonry fronts.<a id="r301"></a><a href='#f301' class='c025'><sup>[301]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Iron remained behind the scenes in most of the English arcaded buildings. In Waterhouse’s
+Fryer &amp; Binyon Warehouse in Manchester of 1856, however, whose upper walls
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>had the polychrome diapering of the Doge’s Palace so much admired by Ruskin, the
+first storey was opened up by an arcade carried on coupled iron columns. In the
+Wellington Williams Warehouse of 1858 in Little Britain in London, the obscure City
+firm of J. Young &amp; Son used arcades in all the five storeys with iron columns to support
+the outer orders; thus the width of the piers could be considerably reduced, and the
+effect of over-all articulation was much enhanced as in the Philadelphia buildings.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Deane &amp; Woodward’s very Ruskinian project of 1857 for the new Government
+Offices, with its endless Italian Gothic arcading, and a small warehouse in Merchant
+Street in Bristol of 1858 by Godwin gave some impetus to the use of pointed instead of
+round arches. But on the whole the best designed among the innumerable arcaded
+façades in England retained the rounded form, however Gothic their other detailing
+may be. In one of the largest and finest examples of the early sixties, moreover, Kassapian’s
+Warehouse in Leeds Road, Bradford, perhaps by Lockwood &amp; Mawson, the detailing
+is academically Roman (Plate <a href='#pl114b'>114<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Different as they are, this Bradford façade and that of Godwin’s contemporary warehouse
+at 104 Stokes Croft in Bristol, so much more subtly Ruskinian than anything by
+Deane &amp; Woodward, are the two masterpieces of the genre at its best
+moment (Plate #113:pl113).
+Of very high quality also is 60 Mark Lane in the City of London built by George
+Aitchison in 1864-5. There the existence of a complete iron skeleton, presumably but
+not certainly present in most of the other examples, is fully documented. Moreover, on
+the rear the metal comes through to the outer face of the wall much as it did at 50
+Watling Street, built some twenty years earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Philadelphia William Johnston had begun in 1849 the seven-storey Jayne Building
+in Chestnut Street,<a id="r302"></a><a href='#f302' class='c025'><sup>[302]</sup></a> introducing a new vertical formula of design for commercial
+façades. Above a conventional ground floor, narrow granite piers in the forms of
+clustered colonnettes rise the full height of the building, merging into Venetian Gothic
+tracery below a terminal parapet. Whether or not Samuel K. Hoxie, the contractor who
+provided the Quincy granite for this and other Philadelphia buildings, was familiar
+with the ‘granite-skeleton’ work of Parris, Rogers, and others in Boston is not clear.
+But in the next few years a good many façades with a similarly vertical and ‘skeletonized’
+treatment were built in Philadelphia by J. C. Hoxie and his sometime partner
+Button. That across the street from the Jayne Building has already been mentioned, since
+the openings between the piers are covered with segmental arches throughout. Button’s
+building at 723-727 Chestnut Street of 1853 and his extant Leland Building at 37-39
+South Third Street are even more ‘proto-Sullivanian’, so to put it. Louis Sullivan probably
+saw and admired such things as the Jayne Building and the Leland Building when
+he was working for Frank Furness in Philadelphia in the seventies; certainly they are
+very premonitory of his characteristic work of the eighties and even the nineties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Various other ways of reducing the wall to little more than a masonry cladding of the
+iron structural members were also in use in England as well as in America by this time.
+A notable small edifice in the City of London, of uncertain date and authorship but
+probably by Thomas Hague and of 1855, is at 22 Finch Lane, with another front to the
+court at the side. On both these façades the two lower storeys are joined together
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>visually by setting back the horizontal spandrel between them, and the moulded stonework
+of the very narrow piers is of almost metallic scale and crispness.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Still more striking is Oriel Chambers<a id="r303"></a><a href='#f303' class='c025'><sup>[303]</sup></a> in Water Street in Liverpool, built in 1864-5
+by Peter Ellis (fl. 1835-84), and another smaller building by him at 16 Cook Street of a
+year or two later. On the front façades of these the masonry is scaled down quite as
+much as at 22 Finch Lane but given a more decorative treatment, in both cases of rather
+metallic character. At Oriel Chambers, oriels of plate glass held in delicate metal frames
+are cantilevered out in every bay of all the upper storeys, producing a regular rhythm
+broken only by the clumsy cresting on the top (Plate <a href='#pl114a'>114<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). At 16 Cook Street all
+the stone spandrels are set back, thus emphasizing even more strongly than at Oriel
+Chambers the continuous vertical lines of the mullions. The over-all pattern is once
+more somewhat confused, however, by the arches across the top that link the mullions
+together. The rear walls of both of Ellis’s buildings are even more open in design and
+directly expressive of the metal skeleton. Towards the narrow court at the side of Oriel
+Chambers only every third iron pier is clad with masonry; those between rise free
+behind the glass of the horizontally sashed windows whose upper planes are slanted
+inward. This is, in effect, an early example of the ‘curtain-wall’ (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If in some technical respects the Chicago skyscraper of the nineties seems almost to
+have come to premature birth in Liverpool in the sixties, as in some other respects it had
+done in the Philadelphia commercial buildings of the fifties, the immediate influence of
+these buildings by Ellis seems to have been almost nil. Eventually Owen Jones, in a
+façade at Derby of 1872, and Thomas Ambler, in a corner building at 46-47 Boar Lane
+in Leeds of 1873, did come to use only iron and glass, omitting all masonry; but more
+characteristic commercial work of these years is to be seen in such warehouses by unknown
+hands as the one at 1-2 York Place in Leeds, with an arcade crisply detailed in
+moulded brick rising through all the upper storeys, somewhat as on the Philadelphia
+buildings of the fifties, or a larger example in Strait Street in Bristol, with a much heavier
+arcade subsuming several upper storeys, handsomely executed in stones of different
+colours and textures and very boldly and simply detailed. Such things, however, very
+soon seemed to the English not advanced but retardataire as contemporary attention
+focused on the Queen Anne of Shaw’s New Zealand Chambers of 1872-3.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s very un-Shavian American Express Building<a id="r304"></a><a href='#f304' class='c025'><sup>[304]</sup></a> in Chicago of 1872-3
+first brings that Mid-Western metropolis into this story. That had no arcading, but the
+windows were very closely set, sometimes (it would appear) with only light metal colonnettes
+as mullions between them. There was also a directness and a ‘realism’ of treatment
+throughout comparable to that of Richardson’s more monumental work of this date,
+notably the Hampden County Courthouse and the Buffalo State Hospital, both designed
+the previous year and at this time still in construction. But Richardson’s dependence on
+English commercial work of the preceding fifteen years became closer still in his first
+really fine business building, the Cheney Block (now the Brown-Thompson Department
+Store) built in Hartford, Conn., in 1875-6 (Plate <a href='#pl116a'>116<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Here the wide ground-storey
+arcade, including a mezzanine, and the narrower arcade above, subsuming several
+storeys—as on the very proto-Richardsonian warehouse in Strait Street in Bristol—are
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>carried out with typically Richardsonian stoniness in quarry-faced brownstone. But the
+banded arches introduce a bold note of High Victorian Gothic polychromy, and the
+carved detail is in the harsh but richly naturalistic vein—also High Victorian Gothic in
+spirit—of the ornament on the earliest executed portions of Trinity Church in Boston,
+probably of a year or two before.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Already, in New York, the skyscraper<a id="r305"></a><a href='#f305' class='c025'><sup>[305]</sup></a> had been born by this date, and leadership in
+commercial architecture had crossed the Atlantic for good and all. None of the structures
+dealt with so far in this chapter except the Jayne Building were more than five or
+six storeys high, since it could not be expected that business clients would climb more
+than four or five flights of stairs. But the average height of buildings in the financial
+districts of cities had, even so, almost doubled since the eighteenth century, partly because
+of the general rise in the number of storeys, partly because of much increased
+storey heights. Vertical transportation of human beings, which would allow the erection
+of office buildings considerably more than five storeys high—industrial buildings were
+often much taller already—became increasingly feasible during the forties and fifties.
+Hoists for goods were a commonplace of English warehouse design after 1840, and in
+1844 the Bunker Hill Monument had a passenger-hoist operated by a steam engine. In
+New York the Haughwout Store on Broadway had in 1857 the first practical passenger
+lift or elevator to be installed in an ordinary urban structure. This was of the type developed
+by Elisha G. Otis. A lift of another sort was introduced in the Fifth Avenue
+Hotel in New York later that year. Those of 1860 in the Westminster Palace Hotel in
+London apparently did not function, at least for some years. The Equitable Building, for
+which Arthur Gilman and Edward Kimball, with George B. Post (1837-1913) as the
+associated engineer, won the competition in 1868, was the first office building in New
+York to have a lift from the time of its completion in 1871. Immediately after this lifts
+were introduced in several other comparable structures, and one- or two-storey mansards
+were often added to the tops of existing buildings. A great change was thus at hand
+in New York in the early seventies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the Panic of 1873, the mid seventies saw the construction of what may properly
+be considered the first skyscrapers, the nine-storey (260-foot) Tribune Building
+and the ten-storey (230-foot) Western Union Building. Both were therefore about
+double the height even of the tallest office structures, such as the five-storey (130-foot)
+Equitable Building erected during the preceding boom period. These first skyscrapers
+rose to altitudes reached hitherto in America only by church spires, as general views of
+the New York skyline around 1875 make evident. Neither Hunt’s New York Tribune
+Building, extant but since carried many storeys higher, nor Post’s Western Union
+Telegraph Building, long since demolished, incorporated any other technical innovations;<a id="r306"></a><a href='#f306' class='c025'><sup>[306]</sup></a>
+nor was their design at all closely related, like that of Richardson’s Cheney
+Block in Hartford, to the advanced English commercial work of the previous decade.
+Paradoxically, the French-trained Hunt’s building is somewhat the more English of the
+two in character; but, for all the direct expressiveness of the window grouping in triplets
+in each bay, the detail throughout is coarse and gawky, and the silhouette of the very
+tall mansard and the asymmetrically placed tower was from the first overbearing. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>later addition of many more storeys has made the building even more top-heavy in appearance.
+The Tribune Building was of interest chiefly for its relatively great height,
+now unnoticeable among the much taller skyscrapers built around it later. Its almost
+complete avoidance of any sort of archaeological styling, however, such as the
+Romanesquoid of Richardson’s Cheney Block or the violently polychromatic and
+spiky Gothic of Hunt’s own Divinity School at Yale, on which construction was still at
+this date proceeding, is certainly worth remark also.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Western Union Building of Post was only nominally French, for its rather
+heavy-handed Second Empire treatment owed more to earlier English and American
+designs in this mode than to anything Parisian (Plate <a href='#pl115a'>115<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But the exterior was more
+orderly, if less expressive, than that of Hunt’s skyscraper and the mansards on top piled
+up as grandly to the centrally placed tower as on the big contemporary Post Office
+near by. Yet stylistically both Post’s and Hunt’s buildings were out of date almost as
+soon as they were finished; and after the hiatus caused by the depression of the seventies
+the locus of the skyscraper story moved westward to Chicago.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Chicago, already the metropolis of the Middle West, had almost no architectural
+traditions at this time. First developed as a city in the thirties, the need for rapid building
+in timber had led to the invention or development of what is called ‘balloon-frame’
+construction, in which relatively light studs or scantlings, rising wall high,
+form a cage or crate whose members are fastened together by a liberal use of machine-made
+nails. Balloon-frame construction, thus, is a typical offshoot of the industrial revolution,
+becoming feasible only with the mechanization of the saw-mill and of the manufacture
+of nails. Theoretically, there might be thought to be some analogy between this
+New World method of carpentry, so different from the heavy framing of the Old
+World, hitherto always used in America as well, and metal construction. There is no
+evidence, however, that Chicago took to iron with any greater enthusiasm in the fifties
+and sixties than did New York or various other cities; indeed, St Louis seems to have
+had more and finer examples of cast-iron fronts, particularly in the early seventies. As
+late as that, moreover, the new cities of the American Northwest were obtaining cast-iron
+fronts prefabricated from Britain, just as San Francisco had obtained many of her
+warehouses and immigrant dwellings in 1849-50.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the opening of the seventies a terrific conflagration<a id="r307"></a><a href='#f307' class='c025'><sup>[307]</sup></a> all but wiped out Chicago.
+The need for rapid rebuilding drew thither ambitious architects and engineers from all
+over the East, but the immediate results of their activities were anything but edifying.
+Architectural leadership was still centred in Boston and New York; in any case, that
+leadership had rarely been more confused than in the early seventies when even Richardson
+was only just maturing his personal style. Richardson’s own Chicago building for
+the American Express Company was doubtless too indeterminate in character to attract
+a local following; nor did he build again in Chicago until the mid eighties, by which
+time various versions of the Richardsonian were already reaching Chicago at second or
+third hand.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the Chicago architectural scene had any virtues around 1880 they were largely
+negative ones: no established traditions, no real professional leaders, and ignorance of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>all architectural styles past or present. Among the architects who had settled in Chicago
+in the seventies was a Dane, Dankmar Adler (1844-1900). Into his office in 1879, first as
+chief draughtsman but soon as partner, came the young Bostonian Louis Sullivan. As has
+been noted before, Sullivan had been trained first in Ware’s school at the Massachusetts
+Institute of Technology and later, until he revolted against its rigid doctrines, at the
+École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. Having worked for Frank Furness, wildest of American
+High Victorians, Sullivan picked Chicago not alone for its evident professional opportunities
+but also because he liked the idea of working where there were no hampering
+traditions. (Moreover, his parents had moved there from Boston.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The earliest building of any real originality designed by Sullivan, the Rothschild
+Store in Chicago of 1880-1, seems at first a turgid compilation of barbarisms. Examined
+more closely, however, and compared with the Leiter Building on its right, which was
+built two years earlier by the engineer-architect William Le Baron Jenney (1832-1907),
+the two sorts of innovation that Sullivan essayed here can be readily recognized. On the
+one hand there is the ornament,<a id="r308"></a><a href='#f308' class='c025'><sup>[308]</sup></a> undefinable in historic terms yet with a kind of
+similarity—almost certainly accidental—to the Anglo-Japanese detail of Nesfield and
+Godwin. At this stage in Sullivan’s career the originality of his ornament must be remarked
+but can hardly be admired. Below his elaborate ornamental cresting, on the
+other hand, Sullivan handled the main architectonic elements of his façade with considerable
+novelty and most admirable logic. Although the building is not tall—no skyscraper,
+that is, even by the modest standards of 1880—Sullivan did not hesitate to follow
+the lead of the Philadelphia commercial architects of the fifties in emphasizing the
+vertical. This he accomplished by continuing the mullions that subdivide his bays across
+the spandrels, somewhat as Ellis had done fifteen years before in his buildings in Liverpool,
+rather than by using a multiplicity of masonry piers.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sullivan’s next Chicago building, the Revell Store erected for Martin Ryerson in
+1881-3, continued the theme of the Rothschild Store, but extended it over a much
+larger corner block with considerable chastening of the ornamental treatment at the
+top. The Troescher Building of 1884, which came next in sequence, is very much finer.
+Widely-spaced piers of plain brickwork rise the full height of the façade above a
+slightly Richardsonian ground-storey arcade of rock-faced stone; between them there
+are no oriels, as on Ellis’s Oriel Chambers or his Ryerson Building<a id="r309"></a><a href='#f309' class='c025'><sup>[309]</sup></a> of the previous
+year, but broad horizontal windows separated by recessed spandrels. These spandrels are
+rather like Ellis’s on his other building at 16 Cook Street, but their actual prototypes
+are to be found, more probably, in Philadelphia buildings by Button such as the one at
+723-727 Chestnut Street. The ornament here, now still further chastened, is largely
+confined to these spandrels. The curved cresting across the top, however, recalls a little
+the turgid crown of the Rothschild façade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sullivan’s early buildings were not very tall, and they did not advance the technical
+development of the skyscraper. In these same years, however, other Chicago architects
+were doing so to notable effect. For the ten-storey Montauk Block of 1882-3, tall, but
+no taller than the first New York skyscrapers of ten years before, Burnham &amp; Root
+introduced spread foundations to carry its great weight on the muddy Chicago soil,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>out of which earlier buildings had, literally, to be hoisted every few years. In design they
+were content, however, with a range of ten almost identical storeys of plain brick pierced
+by regularly spaced segmental-arched windows. Obvious as this treatment may seem,
+it took courage to use it at a time when most architects were still trying to disguise the
+embarrassing height of buildings only half as tall by grouping their storeys together in
+twos and threes.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Home Life Insurance Building begun in 1883 was also only ten storeys tall.<a id="r310"></a><a href='#f310' class='c025'><sup>[310]</sup></a> But
+in building it Jenney invented, or at least introduced in Chicago, what is specifically
+called ‘skyscraper construction’, that is a method of carrying the external masonry
+cladding on metal shelves bolted to the internal skeleton. Jenney, however, probably
+thought he was merely tying together his metal skeleton and his brickwork, not
+carrying the latter entirely, though this was found to be the case when the structure
+of the building was carefully examined during its demolition. The Home Insurance
+Building, in any case, looked far more as if its external walls were bearing than
+do any of Sullivan’s early works. Jenney, moreover, fought shy of the frankness of
+Burnham &amp; Root’s treatment of the Montauk Block; instead he phrased his storeys in
+groups, almost as if several buildings of normal three- or four-storey height had been
+casually piled one on top of the other.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before the Home Insurance was finished in 1885 two more major commercial monuments
+were rising in Chicago, Richardson’s Marshall Field Wholesale Store (Plate <a href='#pl116b'>116<span class='fss'>B</span></a>),
+last but one of the large buildings erected in Chicago with walls entirely of bearing
+masonry, and Burnham &amp; Root’s Rookery Building (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). Both were begun
+in 1885, Richardson’s being finished in 1887 and Burnham &amp; Root’s a year earlier in
+1886. The exterior of the eleven-storey Rookery Building is not an example of the
+stripped ‘functionalism’ that these architects had introduced in their Montauk Block
+but rather a provincial imitation of the Richardsonian. In the court walls, however, the
+architects used—and with complete awareness of its implications—the new structural
+method of Jenney’s Home Insurance Building, carrying the brickwork above the sides
+of the central glass-roofed lobby entirely on the internal metal<a id="r311"></a><a href='#f311' class='c025'><sup>[311]</sup></a> skeleton.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the advent of Richardson in 1885, the main lines of development in commercial
+architecture, both as regards design and as regards construction, might seem to have
+been concentrated in Chicago. It is well therefore to note again that McKim, Mead &amp;
+White in their Goelet Building on Broadway in New York of 1885-6 provided almost as
+frank an expression of the skyscraper, or tall office building of many identical storeys, at
+least above their Renaissance ground-floor arcade, as did Burnham &amp; Root in the Montauk
+Block. Their windows, however, were phrased in triplets like Hunt’s on the Tribune
+Building and also grouped vertically within tall bay-width panels of moulded
+brick rising with only one break to the cornice. This was a quite frank solution of the
+problem, and is hardly to be castigated as ‘traditional’ or even as ‘un-functional’.
+Moreover, another New York building, Babb, Cook &amp; Willard’s De Vinne Press of
+1885 in Lafayette Street, is not altogether unworthy of comparison with the Field store.
+It lacks the regularity and the grandeur of scale of Richardson’s masterpiece, but
+George F. Babb used his fine red brick in a belated <i>Rundbogenstil</i> way, and not without
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>some conscious reminiscence, one may presume, of Durand’s exemplars of the beginning
+of the century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s last commercial work, the Ames Building in Harrison Avenue in Boston
+of 1886-7, on which the arcade was carried the full height of the building and the reveals
+much reduced, had no immediate influence in Chicago (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). Sullivan’s first
+really great work, the Auditorium Building (now Roosevelt College) in Chicago, derived
+for the most part straight from the Field store, at least as regards the exterior.
+Designed in 1886 and built in 1887-9, this is a vast and complex edifice, or group of
+edifices, with a hotel on the Michigan Avenue front, an opera-house entered in the
+middle of the Congress Street side, and offices along Wabash Avenue at the rear. The
+walls are all of bearing masonry still. In order to incorporate more storeys than Richardson
+had ever done, Sullivan carried up his heavy rock-faced granite base through two
+mezzanine levels and increased the number of floors subsumed by the main arcade
+which rises from the first storey (Plate <a href='#pl117a'>117<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). He also used light stone throughout,
+instead of the red granite and the brownstone of the Field store, with its surfaces all
+smooth-cut above the mezzanines.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This flattening of the wall-plane was carried even further on the tower which rises
+above the portal of the opera-house in Congress Street. On that wide arched panels of
+very slight projection are filled with articulated screens of stone in which the windows
+are arranged in a continuous grid with no evident storey lines. The eaves gallery at the
+top of the tower, a stubby colonnade set in a long horizontal panel with a continuous
+ribbon-window behind—the window in fact of the Adler &amp; Sullivan office—is so like
+Thomson’s on the front of his Queen’s Park church of the sixties in Glasgow that it is
+hard to believe Sullivan did not know it. Yet other evidence indicates that he continued
+to abjure all European influence at this point in his career.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the interiors, particularly the bar and the banquet hall at the top of the hotel, Sullivan’s
+ornament changed even more markedly than his exterior design. Here also there is
+possibly Richardsonian influence, but coming from the Byzantinizing detail worked
+out by John Galen Howard of the Richardson office for the MacVeagh house of 1885-7
+in Chicago rather than from the Field store.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, one cannot entirely discount the possibility of a contribution in the field
+of ornament by a brilliant young man of twenty, Frank Lloyd Wright, whom Sullivan
+and Adler had just taken on as a draughtsman in 1887 and who was soon given
+charge of the innumerable detail drawings that this vast project required. Nurtured on
+Owen Jones’s <i>Grammar of Ornament</i>,<a id="r312"></a><a href='#f312' class='c025'><sup>[312]</sup></a> which the Paris-trained Sullivan claimed not to
+have known, as well as on the writings of Ruskin, Morris, and Viollet-le-Duc, Wright
+may perhaps have encouraged Sullivan to move away from the bold coarseness of his
+earlier ornament towards the lush elaboration of intricately plastic surface decoration
+henceforth characteristic of his work. It is tempting, even, to believe that Jones’s page of
+Celtic ornament particularly attracted the Irish Sullivan’s fancy.<a id="r313"></a><a href='#f313' class='c025'><sup>[313]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Together with the Auditorium, though commissioned a year later, there was also
+rising in Chicago in 1887-9 the Tacoma Building of William Holabird (1854-1923) and
+Martin Roche (1855-1927), two young architects trained in Jenney’s office. Here the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>exterior walls on the two fronts were entirely carried by the metal skeleton within, only
+the rear walls and some of the interior partitions being of bearing masonry like the walls
+of the Auditorium. Moreover, this fact was made evident in the frank if not particularly
+distinguished treatment of the two fronts. Vertical ranges of oriels were carried the full
+height of the building, and there was only a minimal brick and terracotta sheathing of
+the structural verticals and horizontals. A more or less Richardsonian cornice capped the
+whole, but the general effect was closer to Ellis’s Oriel Chambers of the sixties in Liverpool
+or to some of Sullivan’s earlier buildings than to the Field store.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the general swing of Eastern architects towards the Neo-Academic in
+these years, some who were doing commercial work were not out of step with what
+was happening in Chicago. For example, there are office buildings and warehouses in
+Boston and New York of relatively modest height built in the late eighties and early
+nineties that emulate in brick the arcading of the Field store with almost as much success
+as Sullivan. Similar things can be seen in many Middle and Far Western cities, but these
+derive more probably from Sullivan or Burnham &amp; Root than directly from Richardson.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the Middle West, moreover, McKim, Mead &amp; White were building in 1888-90
+two very large business buildings, still with bearing masonry walls, for the New York
+Life Insurance Company, one in Omaha, Nebraska, and one in Kansas City, Missouri,
+of effectively identical design. Unlike the already characteristic Chicago ‘slabs’—the
+quadrangular plan of the Rookery Building is exceptional—these are
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped,
+and each has a tower rising above
+the main mass at the rear of the court. The treatment of the walls
+with tall arcading follows as evidently from the Field store as does
+Sullivan’s at the Auditorium; like that of the contemporary Boston
+Public Library, however, the fairly simple detailing is of High
+Renaissance rather than Richardsonian Romanesque character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before these towering blocks were finished in the West the new ‘skyscraper construction’
+had been introduced in New York by Bradford Lee Gilbert (1853-1911). His
+Tower Building of 1888-9, as its name implies, was a tower, not a slab, with more or
+less Richardsonian detailing. It is worth noting that the Tower Building—ten storeys,
+119 feet—was <i>not</i> as tall as the first New York skyscrapers built in the early seventies
+with bearing walls. Indeed, Post’s World or Pulitzer Building of 1889-90 in New York
+with twenty-six storeys, the tallest built up to then—309 feet—still had bearing walls.
+Of course, the Eiffel Tower, completed in 1889, exceeded in height by a great deal all
+the skyscrapers of its day whatever their construction; indeed, it was not overtopped
+until the Empire State Building in New York rose from the designs of Shreve, Lamb &amp;
+Harmon in the early 1930s at the end of the second wave of skyscraper building following
+the First World War.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Post’s Western Union Building of the early seventies was in the Second Empire
+mode; his World Building was still French, but what can better be called ‘Beaux-Arts’.
+It is designed like a series of three- or four-storey Renaissance palaces, one on top of the
+other, and crowned with a large and ornate dome. The next New York skyscrapers all
+followed the new structural method introduced by Gilbert in the Tower Building; but
+Post, Price, and the other architects who designed them used an ornate paraphernalia of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>Renaissance ornamentation with none of the discretion of McKim, Mead &amp; White on
+their Kansas City and Omaha insurance buildings. Characteristic of the period are
+Price’s American Surety Building at Broadway and Wall Street, begun in 1894, and his
+St James Building of 1897-8 at 1133 Broadway, both in New York, and Post’s Park
+Building in Pittsburgh, completed in 1896. The latter’s Havemeyer Building in New
+York, completed earlier, in 1892, was still somewhat Richardsonian however.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The maturing of an original sort of skyscraper design around 1890 is a Middle
+Western, and almost specifically a Chicago, story to which New York architects made
+no contribution. Boston’s architectural leadership had ended with the death of Richardson;
+despite the prominence of McKim, Mead &amp; White and their large Eastern following,
+leadership in this field passed almost at once to Chicago. It was most appropriate
+that Richardson’s masterpiece, the Field store, should have been built there; the inspiration
+it provided, as we have already seen in the case of the Auditorium Building, played
+an important part in the succeeding Middle Western development.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1889-90 Jenney built for Levi Z. Leiter a large building on South Clark Street in
+Chicago now occupied by Sears, Roebuck &amp; Company. In this he not only used the new
+‘skyscraper construction’ for the exterior walls but also—with the presumptive aid of his
+assistant and later partner William Bryce Mundie (1863-1939)—arrived at an expression
+of its structural character almost as logical as that of the Tacoma Building yet much
+more monumental. Like most other Chicago designers in these years, Jenney and Mundie
+were influenced here by the Field store. The uncompromisingly block-like shape of
+this tremendous building, with its heavy plain entablature and pilaster-like corner piers,
+is Richardsonian both in its scale and in its simplicity (Plate <a href='#pl117b'>117<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The various groupings
+of stone mullions that clad the main piers and subdivide the bays, lithe and light
+though they are, were clearly envisaged as Romanesque colonnettes and even carry
+modest foliate capitals. Despite the dichotomy of the solidly Richardsonian silhouette
+and the open screen-like treatment of the walls, the effect is coherent and dignified. In
+this respect the Sears, Roebuck Building is superior to Sullivan’s very Richardsonian<a id="r314"></a><a href='#f314' class='c025'><sup>[314]</sup></a>
+Opera House Building in Pueblo, Colorado, of 1890 which was burned in the 1920s.
+The Walker Warehouse in Chicago of 1888-9 better displayed his great talent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Three buildings of the early nineties, two in Chicago by Daniel H. Burnham’s firm and
+one in St Louis by Sullivan, illustrate the wide range of creative possibilities in skyscraper
+design at this point. The most advanced is surely the Reliance Building, at least
+in terms of direct structural expression. This was carried up only four storeys in 1890,
+though extended to its present thirteen storeys by D. H. Burnham &amp; Company in 1894.
+As completed, this is a refined and perfected version of Holabird &amp; Roche’s Tacoma
+Building (Plate <a href='#pl115b'>115<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The light-coloured terracotta cladding of the vertical members,
+particularly on the flat oriels, is reduced to a minimum; the terminal member is a thin
+slab, not a cornice or an entablature; and the only stylistic reminiscence is in the cusped
+panelling—neither Romanesque nor Renaissance, but slightly Late Gothic in character—of
+the spandrels. What we see was presumably designed as well as built in 1894.<a id="r315"></a><a href='#f315' class='c025'><sup>[315]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Burnham &amp; Root’s other significant skyscraper of this particular moment, the sixteen-storey
+Monadnock Building begun in 1891, the last tall Chicago building with bearing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>walls of brick, was and still remains more famous than the Reliance; doubtless it is also
+finer, although much mid-twentieth-century critical opinion has favoured the Sears,
+Roebuck Building of Jenney &amp; Mundie and the Reliance because they are more advanced
+technically. The smooth shank of the Monadnock, varied only by the slight projection
+of the recurrent oriels, has a most subtle and elegant taper or reverse entasis. The
+final bending outward of the brickwork to provide a cove cornice unifies the whole
+formal concept with extraordinary effectiveness. Few large buildings have ever achieved
+such monumental force with such simple means. There is almost literally no detail of
+any sort, whether derivative or original.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sullivan’s Wainwright Building of 1890-1 in St Louis, Missouri, in which he and
+Adler used ‘skyscraper construction’ for the first time, no longer dominates two- and
+three-storey neighbours as it did when newly built; thus the prominence that the
+relatively great height gave it in the city picture of the nineties can hardly be
+realized today. But Sullivan undoubtedly sought to emphasize what seemed to contemporaries,
+as they do not to posterity, its very tall proportions (Plate <a href='#pl118'>118</a>). Continuous
+pilaster-like piers of brick, quite like those on his Troescher Building of 1884, clad the
+vertical elements of the steel skeleton, yet identical brick piers with no major structural
+members behind them also serve as intervening mullions. But at the base the wide
+windows of the ground storey and the mezzanine reveal the true width of the actual
+bays of the steel skeleton as the treatment of the shank of the building does not. The piers
+are considerably broader than most of those on the Sears, Roebuck Building; but they
+are also topped, like Mundie’s, with ornament that forms a sort of capital. Moreover,
+the attic storey above is quite hidden behind a deep band of the richest Sullivanian ornament
+elsewhere restricted, as on the Troescher Building, to the recessed spandrels. The
+‘cornice’ above this frieze-like attic is merely a slab, but a much thicker one than that
+which caps the Reliance Building. Nothing of Richardson’s direct influence is left; but
+by now Sullivan had learned from the Field store the basic lessons of scale and order,
+applying them here in a visually sure but not particularly frank way to the new type of
+metal-skeleton construction. The plan is
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped,
+like those of the McKim, Mead &amp; White buildings in Kansas City and
+Omaha, but the court is to the rear, so that the block appears unified
+from the surrounding streets.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Sullivan’s next important work, the Schiller Building in Chicago of 1891-2, he
+adopted—exceptionally for him—a truly tower-like shape. Here the masonry piers that
+clad the structural steel stanchions are not doubled by identical mullions between; instead
+these piers are linked by arches below a sort of frieze. The ‘frieze’ is really a very
+ornately arcaded eaves-gallery, not a flat band as on the Wainwright Building, occupying
+a whole storey below the thick slab cornice.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Interchange of ideas was continuous in these years between the various Chicago architects’
+offices, while the influence of the Academic Revival in the East, dominant in almost
+all the buildings at the World’s Fair of 1893 save Sullivan’s own Transportation Building,
+was still negligible in the commercial field. Thus Sullivan’s Stock Exchange Building of
+1893-4 in Chicago borrowed its rather clumsy ground storey and mezzanine, with a
+cavernously Richardsonian arched entrance, from Burnham’s Ashland Block of 1892 and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>its oriels from the Tacoma or possibly the Reliance Building. These oriels alternate with
+horizontal openings of the type known as ‘Chicago windows’ sharply cut through the
+smooth light-coloured terracotta of the wall plane. ‘Chicago windows’, with a wide
+fixed pane in the centre and narrower sashes that open on either side, were used by most
+Chicago architects in this decade and the next. A heavy moulded cornice, not just a
+thick slab, crowns the whole above a colonnaded eaves-gallery somewhat like the one at
+the top of the Auditorium tower.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>What should probably be considered Sullivan’s masterpiece, the Guaranty Building
+in Buffalo, N.Y., followed in 1894-5 (Plate <a href='#pl119'>119</a>). One of the most significant new
+themes in the design of this skyscraper, whose premonitory character can only be fully
+appreciated in relation to the use of <i>pilotis</i> in later modern architecture (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>), is
+already to be found in a project of Sullivan’s of the previous year for the St Louis Trust &amp;
+Savings Bank. This is the treatment of the ground storey, where the terracotta sheathed
+piers were isolated from the wall plane by bending back the tops of the shop-windows.
+The piers are thus nearly free-standing and seem to lift the shaft of the building above
+them right off the ground. This allows circumambient space to penetrate under the
+main volume of the building. Thus the fact that the edifice is a hollow cage is very
+strongly suggested, and the wide shop-windows do not appear to undermine the walls
+above them as in so much commercial work of the nineteenth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There are several reasons, not intrinsic to Sullivan’s design, that explain why the
+Guaranty remains the most effective of all the early skyscrapers. Since downtown
+Buffalo has not filled up with buildings of equal or greater height in the way of downtown
+St Louis and the Chicago Loop, the Guaranty still rises high above most of its
+modest neighbours, in effect a tower as well as a slab, although actually of
+<span class="sans">U</span>-shaped
+plan like the Wainwright. In this
+city, moreover, which has in the last sixty years remained
+considerably cleaner than Chicago, the colour of the tawny terracotta
+sheathing has not been so much obscured by grime as on the Stock
+Exchange Building. These were happy local conditions that Sullivan
+could not foresee.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The plastic handling of the crown of the Guaranty was perhaps suggested to Sullivan
+by the effectiveness of the cove at the top of Burnham &amp; Root’s Monadnock Building.
+Here the crowns of the arched façade bays—two to each structural bay, as the wide
+spacing of the piers at ground-storey level so clearly reveals—are related to the outward
+curve of the top of the wall below the terminal slab. The profuse and melodious curvilinear
+ornament, subsuming the round attic windows, echoes and complements the
+plastic theme. This is an example, rare even in Sullivan’s most mature work of the mid
+and late nineties, of the successful integration of architectonic and decorative effects. The
+treatment of the terracotta cladding throughout the exterior of the Guaranty, moreover,
+covered all over as it is with lacy geometrical ornament in very low relief, seems to lighten
+the whole. The cladding is read as a mere protective shell carried by the underlying
+steel structural members and not as solid brickwork like the piers of the Wainwright
+Building.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just as the Wainwright Building may be contrasted on the one hand with the still
+greater solidity of the Monadnock Building—in that case justified by the bearing-wall
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>construction—and on the other with the openness of the Reliance, so it is of interest to
+compare the Guaranty with two other big business buildings of 1895 by other Chicago
+architects. In the Ellicott Square Building, also in Buffalo, Burnham was strongly influenced
+by his close association with McKim at the World’s Fair. With the assistance of
+his designer Atwood, whose short life ended this same year, he adopted the elaborate
+Renaissance membering and the heavy masonry vocabulary of the New York skyscraper
+architects, although he retained the quadrangular plan and the glass-roofed central court
+of the Rookery. On the other hand, in Chicago Solon S. Beman (1853-1914) in the
+Studebaker (now Brunswick) Building came very close to providing an all-glass front,
+despite the profusion of Late Gothic frippery with which he detailed his very restricted
+terracotta cladding.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Adler had parted from Sullivan in 1895, but Sullivan’s career as a skyscraper builder
+continued for a few more years at a very high level. In his next skyscraper, the Condict
+Building in New York of 1897-9, he reduced very considerably the width of the
+mullions between the piers so that they became mere colonnettes, and even these are
+omitted in the first storey. But this highly logical differentiation between pier and mullion,
+related to the treatment of his Rothschild Store of 1880-1, still gets lost at the
+top in a flurry of ornamentation almost as turgid in its very different and almost <i>quattrocento</i><a id="r316"></a><a href='#f316' class='c025'><sup>[316]</sup></a>
+way as the top of that very early façade. The treatment of the ground storey was
+originally like that of the Guaranty, but has been modified by later shop-fronts.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next year Holabird &amp; Roche built three contiguous buildings on Michigan
+Avenue in Chicago for Harold McCormick (Plate <a href='#pl120'>120</a>). The two southerly ones are
+excellent examples of the work of the Chicago School; they are a little less extensively
+glazed than Beman’s Studebaker Building or Holabird &amp; Roche’s own McClurg
+Building of 1899 but with crisp and simple, if quite conventional, moulded brick detail
+on the piers and rather plain cornices of wholly academic character. Standard Chicago
+windows are used throughout. The third façade on the north, that of the Gage Building
+at 18 South Michigan Avenue, while fronting a structure also by Holabird &amp; Roche, is
+itself by Sullivan. A different arrangement of the windows, a bolder moulding of the
+terracotta cladding of the piers—there were no intervening mullions now, any more
+than on his Troescher Building of 1884—and a strategic spotting of the chicory-like
+ornament—as well as, originally, a rich picture-frame-like band around the ground-storey
+shop-window—produce an entirely different effect. This effect is no less expressive
+of the underlying structure, but it represents a fuller and subtler deployment of architectural
+resources than Holabird &amp; Roche provided on the façades next door.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Gage Building was Sullivan’s penultimate major work. With the Carson, Pirie &amp;
+Scott Department Store his career as an architect of big commercial buildings came to
+an end. This was designed in 1899 and the original three-bay and nine-storey section on
+Madison Street built in 1899-1901 for Schlesinger &amp; Mayer; it was completed in 1903-4
+for the present owners with the erection of the twelve-storey section that runs along
+State Street.<a id="r317"></a><a href='#f317' class='c025'><sup>[317]</sup></a> This building, which was Sullivan’s swan song, has also seemed to many
+critics his masterpiece (Plate <a href='#pl121'>121</a>). It lacks, however, the unity of the earlier Guaranty
+Building, having been built in two—indeed actually in three—successive campaigns.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>Despite the prominence of its site in the Chicago Loop, the store is inevitably overshadowed
+today by later and taller neighbours; nevertheless, it occupies a very high
+place in the Sullivanian canon.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is no vertical emphasis except on the rounded pavilion at the corner, where
+continuous colonnettes rise the full height between the rather narrow bays; this feature
+was intended from the first but not built until 1903-4. The wide Chicago windows
+are crisply cut through the white terracotta sheathing just like the windows between the
+oriels on the Stock Exchange Building. The underlying grid of the structural steel
+frame—always more horizontal than vertical in effect, as the Reliance Building so clearly
+reveals—completely controls the surface pattern of the fenestration. On the Guaranty
+Building Sullivan emphasized the structural piers at their base by bending back the shop-windows
+of the ground storey; here it was the topmost storey that he set back, revealing
+the tops of the piers like little free-standing columns beneath the terminal slab in the
+spirit of his earlier eaves galleries. This treatment—most unfortunately replaced in 1948
+by a flush parapet—increased very notably the effect of volume in much the same
+way as the parallel treatment at the base of the Guaranty.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the base here, however, the shop-windows are carried up two storeys and given
+picture-frame-like surrounds, somewhat as on the Gage Building. In the cast-iron ornamentation
+of these frames, now much simplified, as also in that of the canopy on the
+north side and around the entrances in the rounded corner pavilion, Sullivan reached a
+peak of virtuosity in the lush decoration that has seemed to later critics quite at odds
+with the severe rectangularity of the façades above. There can be no question, however,
+that Sullivan considered ornament of the greatest importance in architecture and gave to
+its invention and elaboration his best thought and energy. It is certainly an interesting
+coincidence, moreover, rather than a matter of influence either way, that in these very
+years in Europe the newest architectural mode, the Art Nouveau, also put heavy emphasis
+on a somewhat similar sort of curvilinear decoration, often in association with exposed
+metal construction, and most notably on department stores
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch16'>16</a>, <a href='#ch17'>17</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Sullivan’s ornament never had much influence either at home or abroad. Although
+Sullivanian skyscrapers of varying size and quality exist in many Middle Western and
+Far Western cities, most of them built in the first two decades of the new century, only
+the Rockefeller Building in Cleveland, built in 1903-6 by Knox &amp; Elliot and extended
+laterally in 1910, really employs ornament, although of a drier and more geometrical
+order deriving from Owen Jones’s <i>Grammar</i>, in anything like Sullivan’s way. On
+Sullivan’s own late buildings, mostly tiny banks in small Middle Western towns, and in
+comparable work by his former assistant George G. Elmslie (1871-1952)<a id="r318"></a><a href='#f318' class='c025'><sup>[318]</sup></a> and William
+G. Purcell (b. 1880) the ornament tends to get more out of hand than on any of his skyscrapers
+of the nineties except perhaps the Condict Building. The best of Sullivan’s is
+the National Farmers’ Bank at Owatonna, Minn., of 1908; but Purcell &amp; Elmslie’s
+Merchants’ National Bank in Winona, Minn., completed in 1911, might easily be mistaken
+for Sullivan’s work, for it is of comparable quality.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the skyscrapers of the late nineties and the first two decades of the twentieth century
+designed in other Chicago architectural offices, such as D. H. Burnham &amp; Co.,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>Jenney &amp; Mundie, and Holabird &amp; Roche, there was rarely any attempt to vie with
+Sullivan as an ornamentalist but rather a continuance of the straightforward sort of design
+of the last-named firm’s Michigan Avenue buildings of 1898-9. A particularly fine
+and very large example is their Cable Building in Chicago of 1899. In the Fisher Building
+of 1897, also in Chicago, the Burnham firm more or less repeated the formula
+of the Reliance Building, but with a profusion of rather archaeological Late Gothic
+detail, eschewing the New York influence apparent in the Ellicott Square Building of
+1895. Jenney &amp; Mundie, rather more than the others, tended to follow the leadership of
+the New York architects of the day in using academic detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the whole, the Chicago School continued to be vigorous, if not especially creative,
+down to the First World War, all the way through a period during which New
+York skyscrapers, still usually conceived as shaped towers rather than as plain slabs, received
+a succession of different stylistic disguises as they rose higher and higher. The
+forty-seven-storey (612-foot) Singer Building<a id="r319"></a><a href='#f319' class='c025'><sup>[319]</sup></a> of 1907 by Ernest Flagg (1857-1947)
+with its curious bulbous mansard—’Beaux-Arts’ of a quite aberrant sort—was followed
+by the campanile-like 700-foot Metropolitan Tower in Madison Square of 1909
+by Napoleon LeBrun &amp; Sons;<a id="r320"></a><a href='#f320' class='c025'><sup>[320]</sup></a> and that in turn by the cathedral-like Late Gothic
+elaboration of the Woolworth Building<a id="r321"></a><a href='#f321' class='c025'><sup>[321]</sup></a> of 1913 by Cass Gilbert (1859-1934), fifty-two
+storeys and 792 feet tall, which is still one of the major landmarks of downtown
+New York (Plate <a href='#pl178'>178</a>). A new flurry of skyscraper building followed in the twenties
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). The story with which this chapter is concerned, however, had reached
+its climax with the Chicago skyscrapers of the nineties, even though they were soon
+overshadowed in height and in contemporary esteem by the taller and more spectacular
+towers of Manhattan. Moreover, most of the big cities of the country, including
+Chicago, eventually sought to imitate the New York mode. But size is not, even in this
+period, a measure of quality, and the tallest skyscrapers are not the best, any more than
+the longest bridges are the most beautiful. So far the results of the revival of skyscraper
+building in the last fifteen years have rather confirmed this judgement (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A difficult question remains to be asked, even if it cannot be very satisfactorily
+answered: Why was the nineteenth-century development of commercial architecture,
+from Nash’s Regent Street to Sullivan’s skyscrapers, so completely an Anglo-American
+achievement? A few reasons may at least be suggested. On the Continent
+business activity was less concentrated in special urban districts in the nineteenth century,
+and was hence less likely to develop its own architectural programme. The big new
+nineteenth-century blocks in cities like Paris and Vienna and Rome generally serve a
+variety of purposes and almost always consist of residential flats in the upper storeys. In
+England and in America, on the other hand, most dwellings were still not flats but
+houses before 1900, and these fled farther and farther from the commercial areas as the
+nineteenth century progressed. The high property values in the central urban districts
+of the big Anglo-American cities, rising very rapidly in the second half of the century,
+encouraged the exploitation of their sites with taller and taller buildings. These values
+also helped to drive out the earlier inhabitants, leaving such areas as the London City
+and the Chicago Loop all but deserted after office hours.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>Neither the office blocks of London and the big provincial English cities of the fifties
+and sixties nor, <i>a fortiori</i>, the skyscrapers of New York of the seventies and those of
+Chicago of the nineties can readily be matched elsewhere—except, of course, to some
+extent in the British Dominions and Colonies. Yet European cities do offer certain
+nineteenth-century commercial structures that are of real interest. The covered <i>passages</i>
+and <i>galeries</i>, from the modest ones of the early decades of the century in Paris to Mengoni’s
+great Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II in Milan (Plate <a href='#pl075b'>75<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) of the sixties, offered
+an urbanistic device of real significance. This is barely to be appreciated in the various
+extant English and American examples, such as the still flourishing Burlington Arcade in
+London or the Arcade in Providence, R.I., which is maintained as a historic monument
+though all but deserted by commerce.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Related to these structures serving multiple business purposes was the gradual development
+of the department store, a grouping together of various separate shops under
+one management and one roof, of which the Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie in
+Paris of 1838 were a relatively early example (Plate <a href='#pl062a'>62<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Exploiting like the <i>galeries</i> the
+possibilities of iron-and-glass roofing, the early Continental examples of the department
+store had their more modest English and American counterparts such as Owen Jones’s
+Crystal Palace Bazar of 1858 in London or the Z.C.M.I. in Salt Lake City, founded by
+the Mormon leader Brigham Young himself and housed in cast iron in 1868.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most notable later nineteenth-century department stores were in Paris and Berlin.
+In Paris the still extant Bon Marché of 1876 in the Rue de Sèvres by L. C. Boileau
+(1837-?), son of the builder of several Second Empire churches of iron, and the engineer
+Eiffel and the Printemps at the corner of the Rue de Rome and the Boulevard Haussmann
+of 1881-9 by Paul Sédille (1836-1900) were remarkable in conception if without
+much distinction of design. However, the Bon Marché is now completely masked
+externally by a masonry façade of the 1920s, and little of interest remains visible inside
+the Printemps. Of the portion of the Wertheim Department Store in Berlin built by
+Alfred Messel (1853-1909) in 1896-9 nothing survives.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just after 1900, when the metal-and-glass construction of the interiors of department
+stores came to be generally exposed externally, this line of development came to its
+climax (<a href='#pl131b'>Plates 131<span class='fss'>B</span></a> and <a href='#pl133'>133</a>). This climax is so closely associated with the decorative
+and architectural development called Art Nouveau that the later Continental department
+stores may better be discussed in connexion with that
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch16'>16</a>, <a href='#ch17'>17</a>).
+Being of exposed metal, however, not of masonry-sheathed ‘skyscraper construction’
+and relatively low, these stores are closer in character to the cast-iron commercial
+buildings of the third quarter of the century in America and Britain than to the tall
+Chicago structures of 1890-1910.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Steel construction of the American type, with the internal skeleton carrying a protective
+cladding of masonry, has gradually spread since the opening of the century to
+all parts of the world that produce or can afford to buy structural steel. It was, for
+example, introduced into London by the Anglo-French architects Mewès &amp; Davis in
+building the Ritz Hotel there in 1905. Yet it remains typically American. In most other
+countries reinforced concrete rivals or completely takes its place as the characteristic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>material for building large structures of all sorts. The story of reinforced concrete had its
+technical beginnings in the mid nineteenth century; but it was not before the nineties
+that it first began to be exploited on a large scale and for conscious architectural effect.
+The first important reinforced concrete buildings, French like most of the best department
+stores of around 1900, will be mentioned later (see Chapter <a href='#ch18'>18</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The whole picture of architecture in the twentieth century, so different from the picture
+of architecture before 1850, was modified by the developments that culminated
+in the Chicago skyscrapers. However important this has been for all later architecture
+both technically and aesthetically, it is important to stress here, as with the mid-century
+monuments of iron and glass, that the successive stages in the development are not
+solely, or even primarily, of premonitory and historical interest. From Parris’s granite
+buildings in Boston of the twenties, through the arcaded English commercial work of
+the fifties and sixties, to Richardson’s Field store and Sullivan’s skyscrapers in Chicago,
+St Louis, Buffalo, and New York, enlightened commercial patrons demanded and often
+received the best architecture of their day. The functional and technical challenges of
+commercial building seem to have brought out the creative capacities of three generations
+of architects as no other commissions did so consistently. Compare Parris’s Grecian
+temple church, St Paul’s in Boston, with his granite ‘skeleton’ fronts beside the Quincy
+Market (Plate <a href='#pl112b'>112<span class='fss'>B</span></a>); set Godwin’s Stokes Croft Warehouse beside his town halls
+(<a href='#pl133'>Plates 113</a> and <a href='#pl092a'>92<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); measure Richardson’s Field store even against his Pittsburgh Jail
+(<a href='#pl116b'>Plates 116<span class='fss'>B</span></a> and <a href='#pl108b'>108<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Then the strictly <i>architectural</i>, as well as the technical and social,
+significance of the major commercial monuments of the nineteenth century will be
+evident.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This chapter has summarized what was probably the greatest single innovation in
+nineteenth-century architecture, the rise of a new type of building to a position of
+prestige and of achievement comparable to that of churches and palaces in earlier
+periods. The same cannot be said of domestic architecture. The house was hardly a nineteenth-century
+invention like the office building. It was, however, modified almost beyond
+recognition as the century progressed, at the hands of several generations of
+creative architects. Around 1900 there are few if any churches, for example, to rival
+Sullivan’s skyscrapers in quality; but there are some houses, especially several by his
+disciple Wright and by his English contemporary Voysey.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>
+  <h2 id='ch15' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 15</span><br />THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE DETACHED HOUSE IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA FROM 1800 TO 1900</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>In</span> the long story of man’s dwellings from prehistory to the present, the Anglo-American
+development that took place in the hundred years between the 1790s and the 1890s
+is of considerable significance, particularly as it provides the immediate background of
+the twentieth-century house. Architectural history has generally been little concerned,
+in dealing with periods earlier than the eighteenth century at least, with the habitations
+of any but the upper classes. The study of rural cottages in various regions of the world
+has been more a matter for anthropological investigation; the housing of the urban
+poor, when that was other than the makeshift adaptation of grander structures fallen
+into decay, remains for most early periods a matter of mystery. We know that ancient
+Rome had its blocks of middle-class flats of many storeys; although the links are not easy
+to recover, there was certainly some continuity in Mediterranean lands between that
+form of urban housing in antiquity and what can be traced from the medieval period
+down to the nineteenth century. Northern Europe in the late Middle Ages saw rather
+the development of individual urban dwellings with party walls, ancestors of the terrace-houses
+that first appeared in England in the seventeenth century.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The detached house of moderate size, so familiar today, the principal type of dwelling
+to undergo notable development in the nineteenth century in Anglo-Saxon countries,
+has no such remote Classical origins as the Continental flat or apartment. It made its
+appearance as the dwelling of the yeoman when economic conditions in late medieval
+England encouraged the rise of a class between the feudal landowner and the peasant
+parallel to the skilled artisan class in the towns. The conditions of settlement of the
+British colonies in America, particularly in New England, encouraged the continuation
+through the seventeenth century of this type of dwelling almost to the exclusion of
+any other sort, since towns were then small and large estates rare. Around 1700 in
+America, though considerably earlier in England, relatively advanced contemporary
+modes began to have some influence on the design of such houses. With a lag of as
+much as a quarter of a century, the architectural developments of the home country
+were generally followed in the colonies; nor did political independence much affect the
+dependent cultural relationship in this field after the American Revolution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The effects of the Picturesque point of view on the development of the house in England
+around 1800 were several (see Chapter <a href='#ch06'>6</a>). On the one hand, the newly fashionable
+attitude gave prestige to modest detached dwellings, raising the social status of the
+‘cottage’ from an agricultural labourer’s hovel to a middle-class habitation or even on
+occasion a holiday ‘retreat’ for the upper classes—at first by adding the French adjective
+<i>orné</i> (Plate <a href='#pl122a'>122<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). At the same time the status of the ‘villa’ tended to be reduced from a
+large Italianate mansion on its own estate to a moderate-sized house at the edge of town.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>In much of the prolific architectural literature of the period, the hierarchy of residential
+building types was Rousseauistically inverted as rustic models, both native and Italian,
+were proposed for emulation in edifices of fairly considerable size. Thus several modes
+of informal design that had made their eighteenth-century debut in garden ornaments
+received more serious attention from architects as they came to be considered suitable
+for medium-sized dwellings and even sometimes for quite large mansions. As we have
+already seen, the towered Italian Villa was first introduced as a modest detached house
+by Nash at Cronkhill in 1802. It was similarly utilized by Schinkel (Plate <a href='#pl014a'>14<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and
+Persius at Potsdam a generation later, although Royalty still preferred to dwell there
+in Grecian dignity or Castellated pomp (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>). Somewhat later, however,
+the Italian Villa provided (none too happily) a Royal retreat when Prince Albert
+decided on this mode for Osborne House on the Isle of Wight in the mid forties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not all Picturesque modes were equally adaptable to middle-class dwellings. The
+Indian found its most notable realizations in a large country house, S. P. Cockerell’s
+Sezincote, and a Royal folly, Nash’s Brighton Pavilion (Plate <a href='#pl048'>48</a>). There were, however,
+considerably later American examples<a id="r322"></a><a href='#f322' class='c025'><sup>[322]</sup></a> on a somewhat more modest scale, such as
+Iranistan at Bridgeport, Conn., built for Barnum in 1847-8, and Longwood, near
+Natchez in Mississippi, designed by Samuel Sloan in 1860 that have been mentioned
+earlier. But the Indian mode contributed the veranda, henceforth an integral feature
+of American domestic architecture, though rare after the Picturesque period in England.
+Verandas very early lost the Oriental detail, however. In front of Rustic Cottages
+they were often supported by bark-covered logs, but they could also acquire the formal
+character of Italian loggias, Tudor arcades, Swiss galleries or, most frequently, Classical
+porticoes and ‘pilastrades’ when adapted for use with other current modes.<a id="r323"></a><a href='#f323' class='c025'><sup>[323]</sup></a> In some
+cases the veranda, carried on occasion to two storeys in height, became the main theme
+of the exterior, yet was detailed so simply that no modish name
+properly applies (Plate <a href='#pl122a'>122<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even the Castellated mode, although used mostly for rather large houses (Plate <a href='#pl049'>49</a>),
+encouraged loose asymmetrical massing of the sort that is still more characteristic of the
+towered Italian Villa.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Picturesque was thoroughly eclectic, in both possible senses of the word, as well
+as occasionally original. On the one hand, the point of view encouraged the parallel use
+of diverse modes. In theory, these were to be chosen according to their suitability to
+various sorts of natural settings, but in practice several were often employed side by
+side, as in Nash’s Park Villages in London, begun in 1827, and in the contemporary and
+later development of comparable suburban areas both in England and in America. On
+the other hand, the combination in one design of features derived from several different
+modes was allowable, even praiseworthy—low-pitched roofs with very broad eaves
+borrowed from the Swiss Chalet, towers from both the Castellated Mansion and the
+Italian Villa, bay-windows from the Tudor Parsonage, and verandas from the Indian
+were all part of a common repertory exploited rather indiscriminately. Basic to the
+Picturesque point of view and often determinant of choice of mode and even of individual
+features was the preoccupation with the natural setting; verandas, loggias,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>bay-windows and prospect towers were desirable, even necessary, features because they
+made possible the fuller enjoyment of the circumambient scene.</p>
+
+<div id='i255'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i255.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 21. T. F. Hunt: house-plan<br />(from <i>Designs for Parsonage Houses</i>, 1827)</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>All these features affected house-plans in detail; but domestic planning in general
+was not as consistently re-organized as might have been expected, if only because the
+Picturesque point of view was so predominantly visual rather than practical in its usual
+concerns. Asymmetrical massing allowed, even forced, asymmetrical planning, however,
+thereby encouraging functional differentiation of the disposition and the sizes of various
+rooms (Figure <a href='#i255'>21</a>). Yet very often, behind irregular exteriors, the plans were only
+slightly dislocated from the formal patterns of the preceding Palladian period. Although
+the increased articulation of most house-plans allowed the introduction of windows on
+several sides of many rooms, more significant at this stage was the frequent use of irregular
+shapes for the larger rooms, their main rectangular spaces complicated by external
+oriels and by internal ingle-nooks. None of these individual changes can be very precisely
+dated, at least in the current state of knowledge of the development of the house-plan
+in this period. Almost all of them were generally familiar in England by 1810.
+Tudor Parsonages, whether or not occupied by members of the clergy, were likely to
+be most adeptly planned.<a id="r324"></a><a href='#f324' class='c025'><sup>[324]</sup></a> In them the well-defined needs of a family of relatively high
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>social status but low income encouraged a more efficient grouping of the rooms and
+a clearer distinction of separate functions—entrance hall, drawing-room, dining-room,
+study, kitchen, scullery—than had been common earlier in such medium-sized
+dwellings.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the first third of the century the various Picturesque modes of house-design were
+very widely exploited in England for middle-class habitations in the new suburbs, having
+generally made their first appearance a decade or so earlier in lodges or other accessories
+to large private estates. They were also popular at the new seaside resorts, such as Sidmouth
+in Devon and Bournemouth in Hampshire, where they often housed more
+exalted clients. At Sidmouth, for example, what is now the Woodlands Hotel was remodelled
+from a barn into a barge-boarded Cottage Orné by Lord Gwydyr in 1815; the
+nucleus of the Knowles Hotel there was Lord Despenser’s cottage of a few years earlier;
+and the Royal Glen Hotel, a modest Castellated house then known as Walbrook Cottage,
+was built early enough to house Queen Victoria as a baby. Although the prestige
+of the Picturesque declined rapidly in high aesthetic circles after 1840, the rigorous principles
+of Pugin and the ecclesiologists had little effect on the operations of suburban
+builders, who continued for decades to follow the various well-established modes of a
+generation earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As Latrobe’s ‘Gothick’ Sedgley, built outside Philadelphia in 1798, and various other
+Neo-Gothic structures in Philadelphia and Boston of the first decade of the new century
+make evident, the Picturesque came early to the United States. Yet it was hardly before
+the thirties that the various Cottage and Villa modes began to compete at all with the
+Greek temple and the formal post-Palladian house modernized by the use of Grecian
+detail; only with the appearance in 1842 of <i>Cottage Residences</i> by A. J. Downing (1815-52)<a id="r325"></a><a href='#f325' class='c025'><sup>[325]</sup></a>
+were they enthusiastically propagated.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Earlier, new developments in the planning of the ubiquitous moderate-sized free-standing
+houses were not very notable in America. In the 1790s the influence of Adam,
+and possibly of the French, encouraged some experimentation with variously shaped
+rooms; but this largely died out as the necessary rectangularity of the Greek temple
+house, only extended by one or more wings in the largest examples, reimposed the formal
+Anglo-Palladian plan with central stair-hall and four nearly equal-sized corner
+rooms. For smaller houses with pedimented fronts, however, a sort of terrace-house plan
+was increasingly popular, with stair-hall at one side, two principal living rooms one behind
+the other, and a narrower kitchen wing extending to the rear. A planning innovation
+that first appeared in America in the 1790s, by no means unknown earlier in England
+but rare except in terrace-houses, was the opening together of two rooms—front and
+back parlours—by means of broad sliding doors. This became increasingly common after
+1800. Moreover, the temple portico provided the equivalent of a shallow veranda
+across the front of the house and was sometimes replaced or supplemented by a deeper
+colonnaded porch at the sides or rear. The veranda, indeed, had reached the southern
+states fairly early in the eighteenth century, arriving from the East via the West Indies.
+In its usual two-storeyed form it was easily merged with the monumental colonnades
+demanded by the Grecian mode (Plate <a href='#pl038b'>38<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>Thus, even before a rather belated wave of strong Picturesque influence began to drive
+out the temple house in the forties, early nineteenth-century American houses had certain
+definitely post-Colonial characteristics in their plans. Of later house-planning in the
+United States in the forties and fifties almost everything that has been said about English
+planning in the preceding decades applies (Figure <a href='#i258'>22</a>). By this time in England, however,
+newer planning ideas were being introduced by leading architects in relatively
+large houses. At Scarisbrick, for example, where the remodelling and extension of the
+existing Georgian house began in 1837, Pugin revived the medieval great hall (see
+Chapter 6). A few years later in his own house, The Grange of 1841-3 at Ramsgate,<a id="r326"></a><a href='#f326' class='c025'><sup>[326]</sup></a> by
+no means a mansion in size or scale, the more modest two-storey hall incorporates the
+staircase and also provides, with the galleries above, the central core of communication.
+Parallel with these examples, which were of Gothic inspiration, Barry at Highclere
+adapted the glass-roofed central <i>cortile</i> of the Reform Club to domestic use, associating
+with it the main staircase rising in a contiguous vertical space.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At the hands of High Church architects the parsonage, by definition no mansion but
+a modest free-standing gentleman’s residence, was also undergoing a characteristic development.
+No longer Tudor, of course, it was still not forced to be archaeologically
+decorated in its planning, since there were few if any relevant medieval models to
+imitate. The doctrine of ‘realism’ condemned the shabby construction and careless
+use of materials that had too often been characteristic of Picturesque house-building in
+the previous decades, while the need for economy discouraged the ornamentation common
+on contemporary churches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Such a vicarage as that which Butterfield built in 1844-5 to go with his ‘first’ church,
+St Saviour’s at Coalpitheath, Gloucestershire, is a model of simple masonry construction.
+In the random ashlar walls are set wide banks of plain mullioned windows, Gothic
+only in the arching of their heads, where they can serve best to light the various rooms
+(Plate <a href='#pl122b'>122<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The massing also is irregular yet orderly with several high gables, a porch,
+many tall chimney stacks, and a broad bow-window elaborating the basically rectangular
+block. But, in the language of the ecclesiologists, ‘the true Picturesque derives
+from the sternest utility’, and so all these projecting features were such as could be
+readily justified functionally, like the ritualistic articulation of contemporary churches.
+The plan of Butterfield’s vicarage has the virtues of those of the Picturesque Tudor Parsonages
+in the variety of room-sizes and shapes provided and also in the opportunities
+that the windows offer to enjoy surrounding nature. There is also at Coalpitheath a very
+modest version of Pugin’s stair-hall at The Grange, not a mere lobby but a central space
+designed for easy horizontal and vertical communication.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Any serious revival of medieval craftsmanship in masonry was all but impossible in
+America; in any case it was largely irrelevant in a land where most houses were built of
+wood. But in reaction to the white-painted clapboards and the smooth Grecian trim of
+the previous decades, echoing however humbly the marble of Greece, Downing in the
+early forties proposed and many at his behest adopted variant treatments for the exterior
+sheathing of Picturesque villas and cottages that were rather more expressive.
+The distinguished native craftsmanship evident in the more monumental edifices of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>the Greek Revival executed in fine ashlar of granite or other light-coloured stone, or
+else in smooth red brick, died out. Such materials had no more appeal than did crisp
+white-painted wood to a generation indoctrinated with the Picturesque point of view.
+Yet clapboards remained the usual surfacing material for wooden houses, even if they
+were now painted, not white, but in the stony hues—grey or beige—that Downing
+recommended in his books with actual coloured samples.</p>
+
+<div id='i258'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i258.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 22. A. J. Downing: house-plan (from <i>Cottage Residences</i>, 1842)</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The treatment Downing preferred was board-and-batten.<a id="r327"></a><a href='#f327' class='c025'><sup>[327]</sup></a> This he made a constituent
+element of the very original Bracketted mode that he offered as an American
+alternative to the imported Italian Villa and Tudor Parsonage which he was energetically
+engaged in nationalizing. Board-and-batten provides a stronger pattern of light and
+shade, and also the verticalism that appealed increasingly to mid-century taste. This
+sheathing also offers a sort of symbolic expression of the light ‘balloon-frame’<a id="r328"></a><a href='#f328' class='c025'><sup>[328]</sup></a> construction
+that was beginning to come into general use by the fifties, though this method
+of wooden framing was apparently never known to Downing, since he died in 1852
+before it reached the eastern states where he lived and worked.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With their board-and-batten walls, their ample verandas, and their bay-windows,
+what are still usually called ‘Downing houses’ constitute a largely original American
+creation in spite of the frequent use of Tudoresque detail on barge-boards and veranda
+supports and even of elaborately moulded terracotta chimney pots. Yet in their planning
+the houses designed by Downing and his architect friends Davis and Notman do not advance
+much beyond the models published in the English books of the previous decades
+that were their immediate prototypes (Figure <a href='#i258'>22</a>). The verandas are usually wider and
+more prominent, however, and the front and rear parlours are likely to open into one
+another, as sometimes also into a modest central hall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>In America as in England, the Picturesque period came to no sudden end. The recurrent
+publication of Downing’s books even after the Civil War<a id="r329"></a><a href='#f329' class='c025'><sup>[329]</sup></a> indicates how long his
+models remained favourites with American builders and their small-town and suburban
+clients. However, even before the Civil War a mansarded Second Empire mode was
+beginning to become popular (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>). With the wide acceptance of this
+and of the High Victorian Gothic there developed a rather sharp split between autochthonous
+and imported types of house-design, drastically though the imported types were
+usually Americanized outside the bigger eastern cities. To this situation we must return
+later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Something has already been said of the major turn that took place in the development
+of the English house around 1860 (see Chapters <a href='#ch09'>9</a> and <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). When seen in relation to the
+parsonages that his master Street and also Butterfield had been building in the
+previous fifteen years, Webb’s Red House built in 1859-60 for William Morris is considerably
+less revolutionary than has sometimes been supposed. Had this been built in
+Gloucestershire rather than in Kent, it would certainly have been of stone like Butterfield’s
+Coalpitheath Vicarage; as it is, the entrance porch is no simpler or less Gothic than
+Butterfield’s. The particular window forms, moreover, can be matched in Butterfield’s
+Clergy House and School at All Saints’, Margaret Street, and the somewhat rustic ease
+of composition in his cottages at Baldersby St James. Yet the planning here is highly individual,
+suited to the special needs of a client who was an artist and a writer, not a
+parson.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next house that Webb built, now known as Benfleet Hall, Cobham, begun in
+1860 for the painter Spencer Stanhope, has been less publicized, and it never had the rich
+furnishings that Morris and his associates designed and executed for the Red House. Yet
+it is perhaps more significant in the general history of the Anglo-American house. There
+is here, for example, a small stair-hall of the order of Pugin’s at the Grange or Butterfield’s
+at Coalpitheath around which the other ground-storey rooms are loosely
+grouped. The particular character of the plan can, in fact, best be matched at Hinderton,
+a small country house in Cheshire that is hardly more of a mansion than Benfleet, which
+Waterhouse built in 1859. This house is in Waterhouse’s gawkiest High Victorian
+Gothic, with none of the simplicity and delicacy of Webb’s early houses. It is rather
+unlikely that Webb was actually emulating it, but the plan was twice published<a id="r330"></a><a href='#f330' class='c025'><sup>[330]</sup></a> and
+hence soon known abroad.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Webb’s Arisaig in Inverness-shire was begun in 1863 (Figure <a href='#i260'>23</a>). Built of local
+stone, it is somewhat more conventionally Gothic externally; moreover, it is of country-house
+size, a mansion rather than a modest artist’s dwelling like the Red House or
+Benfleet Hall. The plan has two major aspects of interest: the two-storeyed hall, with
+gallery above, occupies a central position and the principal rooms on both storeys are
+very efficiently grouped about it within the bounding rectangle of the main block of the
+house. In other words, Arisaig’s hall seems to derive as much from the Highclere sort of
+glazed central court as from Pugin’s revival of the medieval great hall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Cloverley Hall, which was built by Nesfield and Shaw in 1865-8, attracted much
+favourable contemporary attention largely because of the superb craftsmanship of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>brickwork and the originality of the <i>japoniste</i> ornament (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). It is destroyed
+now except for the extensive service and stable wings and the gate lodge; but the amount
+and the character of the fenestration, providing in some areas what amounted to window-walls
+of stone-mullioned and transomed lights, and the character of the plan make it still
+memorable. It was also the first of the many notable Late Victorian manor houses which
+both Nesfield and Shaw would build when working alone.</p>
+
+<div id='i260'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i260.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 23. Philip Webb: Arisaig, Inverness-shire, 1863, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>Like Arisaig, Cloverley was a large country house. The medieval great hall, first rather
+modestly revived by Pugin at Scarisbrick, here returned at full scale; but it was placed
+in a corner of the main block—as was occasionally its position in the sixteenth century—so
+that it might receive light from one end as well as from the side (Figure <a href='#i261'>24</a>). From the
+entrance, however, one passed by this hall through the ‘screens’ under a gallery to
+arrive at a stair-hall, more in the manner of Waterhouse’s and Webb’s, around which
+the other principal rooms were compactly grouped. There was also here a very skilful
+play with levels, the hall being lower than the rest of the main floor, and therefore
+part-way down to the basement—containing a billiard room and so forth—which was
+entirely above ground at the rear of the house.</p>
+
+<div id='i261'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i261.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 24. Nesfield &amp; Shaw: Cloverley Hall, Shropshire, 1865-8, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>While Cloverley Hall was still in construction, Shaw had begun his own personal
+career as a house-builder at Glen Andred in 1866-7 (Plate <a href='#pl102b'>102<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), where he introduced
+a more vernacular manner (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). Following this came his Leyswood in
+1868-9, a mansion as large as Cloverley Hall and in some of its decorative features
+more archaeologically Late Medieval. As at Cloverley Hall, the amplitude of the fenestration,
+however, arranged here in long mullioned bands as well as in tall window-walls,
+has seemed more significant to posterity than the stylistic detailing<a id="r331"></a><a href='#f331' class='c025'><sup>[331]</sup></a> (Plate <a href='#pl123'>123</a>). Above
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>all, Leyswood marked a further stage in the development of the ‘agglutinative plan’
+(Figure <a href='#i210'>19</a>), of which the first well-publicized example was Waterhouse’s at Hinderton.
+Here the great hall and the stair-hall of Cloverley are combined to form a central spatial
+core of communication, somewhat as at Webb’s Arisaig, but the shape of this is quite
+irregular and the reception rooms are grouped very loosely about it, more as at Benfleet
+Hall. Projecting well out of the main block, the dining-room and the drawing-room
+both receive light from three sides. Moreover, the space of these rooms is articulated,
+as in certain Picturesque houses of forty and fifty years earlier, by ingle-nooks, oriels,
+and various other irregularities. Perspectives of Leyswood—not the plan<a id="r332"></a><a href='#f332' class='c025'><sup>[332]</sup></a>—were
+published in the supplement to the <i>Building News</i> of 31 March 1871 and made at once
+a tremendous impression both in England and in America (Plate <a href='#pl123'>123</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i262'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i262.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 25. Philip Webb: Barnet, Hertfordshire, Trevor Hall,<br />1868-70, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>In a house by Webb of the same date as Leyswood, Trevor Hall at Oakleigh Park,
+Barnet, in Hertfordshire, the arrangement of the rooms about the central hall was much
+more compact (Figure <a href='#i262'>25</a>). The whole formed a square and allowed a quite symmetrical
+treatment of the three principal fronts. This house is now destroyed except for the gate
+lodge. Less interesting in plan but significant for its very modest size is Webb’s
+Upwood Gorse, Caterham, Surrey, built for Queen Victoria’s dentist Sir John Tomes
+also in 1868. The consistency and the simplicity with which the local vernacular of
+brick below and tile-hanging above is handled in connexion with plenty of white-painted
+Queen Anne sash-windows regularly but not symmetrically spaced offers a
+curiously close prototype of the American ‘Shingle Style’, although the initiators of
+that mode a decade later can hardly have known of this house, since it was never published.
+It was rather Shaw’s houses of the next decade, of which his drawings were
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>exhibited each year at the Royal Academy and given great prominence in the professional
+Press, that provided the exemplars which architects generally imitated both at
+home and abroad; from 1874 on the plans were usually illustrated as well as Shaw’s
+own very virtuoso pen-drawn<a id="r333"></a><a href='#f333' class='c025'><sup>[333]</sup></a> perspectives (Plate <a href='#pl123'>123</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Webb’s houses for the painters Val Prinsep and G. B. Boyce in Kensington and
+Chelsea, of 1865 and 1869 respectively, were the first English ‘studio-houses’—houses,
+that is, in which the studios, naturally equipped with very large windows, were the
+principal rooms. These provided a more livable alternative to the great halls that Shaw
+generally provided in his country houses; but it was the larger artists’ houses of the
+seventies and eighties which Shaw built for his fellow academicians that received
+contemporary publicity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the mid seventies Shaw was moving in the formal and symmetrical direction
+initiated by Webb at Trevor Hall and soon carried much further by Nesfield at Kinmel
+Park as regards both the planning and the external organization of his larger London
+houses. Lowther Lodge in Kensington Gore of 1873-4 is the first of his domestic commissions
+that may properly be called Queen Anne rather than Manorial. The even more
+formally designed Cheyne House and Old Swan House, of 1875 and 1876 respectively,
+on the Chelsea Embankment followed shortly after (Plate <a href='#pl103'>103</a>); but he long continued
+to build more loosely composed houses in the country, as has been noted earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before turning to the results of Shaw’s very notable influence in the United States in
+the seventies, something should be said of the situation there in the preceding decade.
+The Second Empire mode had been increasingly popular for houses from the mid
+fifties and was especially fashionable during the boom period that followed the Civil
+War. It had no positive contribution to make to the general Anglo-American development
+in these decades, however. In the domestic field more or less Gothic modes were
+its significant rivals; first Downing’s wide-veranda-ed version of the Tudor Cottage;
+then, after 1860, what Vincent Scully has christened the ‘Stick Style’.<a id="r334"></a><a href='#f334' class='c025'><sup>[334]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On houses in this mode, which is really hardly Gothic at all, a sort of imitation half-timbering
+panels the exterior walls, suggesting, like Downing’s board-and-batten
+sheathing, the underlying wooden stud-structure of balloon-frame construction. This
+construction came to be generally used in the East as well as in the Middle West, where
+it originated, after it had been explained by William E. Bell in his <i>Carpentry Made Easy</i>
+in 1858. More striking is the open stickwork of the ubiquitous verandas. This can be
+seen in an early form on the Olmsted house in East Hartford, Conn., of 1849 by the
+English architect Gervase Wheeler,<a id="r335"></a><a href='#f335' class='c025'><sup>[335]</sup></a> who obviously derived it from Picturesque models
+in England dating back at least to the thirties. In the J. N. H. Griswold house of 1862 in
+Bellevue Avenue in Newport, R.I., by the French-trained Hunt, now the Newport Art
+Association, the ‘sticks’ of the wall surface are so sturdy that they may well be the actual
+framing members.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Very characteristic of the maturity of the mode is the Sturtevant house at nearby
+Middletown, R.I., built by Dudley Newton (1845?-1907) a decade later in 1872. Here
+the gawky vigour of the Stick Style, its intense woodenness, and its descent from several
+different Picturesque modes—not least the Swiss Chalet—is very evident (Plate <a href='#pl124a'>124<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>Extensive surrounding verandas are of the very essence of the mode; but the internal
+planning, while informal and often asymmetrical, is rarely very open. Several books by
+Eugene C. Gardner (1836-1905)<a id="r336"></a><a href='#f336' class='c025'><sup>[336]</sup></a> of Springfield, Mass., give a sophisticated architect’s
+rationale of the mode. But the exemplars that G. E. Woodward<a id="r337"></a><a href='#f337' class='c025'><sup>[337]</sup></a> offered in the sixties
+are more typical, and were more widely imitated in actual production; for the Stick Style
+had almost run its course by the time Gardner began to present his excellent house designs.
+Woodward was no architect, and for the most part the Stick Style should not be considered
+an architect’s mode. It represented rather a popular attempt, remarkably successful
+for a few years, to create an American domestic vernacular, suited to the materials in
+general use and to the current methods of building, comparable to Downing’s earlier
+Bracketted mode. Like the Second Empire vogue the Stick Style died out, at least in the
+East, during the general hiatus in building production after the financial Panic of 1873.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By that time Shaw’s influence had begun to reach America.<a id="r338"></a><a href='#f338' class='c025'><sup>[338]</sup></a> Moreover, the possibilities
+of agglutinative planning about a great hall had been realized by Richardson well
+before a Shaw plan—that for Hopedene—was first made available in the <i>Building News</i>
+in 1874. It is, of course, possible that McKim, in passing through England on his way
+home from Paris in 1870, had seen (or merely heard of) the character of Webb’s, Nesfield’s,
+and Shaw’s houses of the sixties and transmitted that information to Richardson.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>An undated project of about 1871 by Richardson for a house to be built in Newport,
+R.I., for Richard Codman includes his first great hall<a id="r339"></a><a href='#f339' class='c025'><sup>[339]</sup></a> of the Shavian sort; but the
+Codman plan is already in advance of, or at least rather different from, those of Shaw.
+This hall, out of which the stairs would rise in an
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped
+at the rear, was to be very large in
+relation to the other rooms, and thus definitely a principal living area not a mere foyer
+or centre of circulation. The drawing room and dining room were to open out of the
+hall through wide doorways so that some sort of spatial continuity would have extended
+through all the reception rooms of the ground storey. There was to be a large veranda
+at the rear in the well-established local tradition. The exterior as shown in the elevations
+is not at all Shavian but rather related to the Stick Style, like Richardson’s own
+house at Arrochar on Staten Island of 1868.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s first executed country house, the F. W. Andrews house of 1872-3 at
+Newport, R.I., was much more Shavian in plan. Four or five rooms were grouped
+about a relatively smaller central stair-hall and most of these were articulated by bay-windows
+and ingle-nooks. But the main block was also surrounded by verandas,
+features which are rare and always of modest extent on Shaw’s houses. The Andrews
+house was burned a long time ago, but from the existing elevations it would appear that
+the external treatment represented a sort of transition between the Stick Style, then at
+its apogee, and Shaw’s Surrey vernacular translated into American materials. The
+verandas were still detailed in a Stick Style way, and flat stickwork interrupted the continuity
+of the wall surfaces; but the clapboarding of the lower walls evidently took the
+place of the brickwork Shaw used—it was almost certainly painted red—and the wooden
+shingling of the upper walls was a happy substitute for English tile-hanging. Shingles
+were, of course, an old though largely forgotten American sheathing material long used
+especially for roofs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>By the time Richardson came to design his next large house, that for William Watts
+Sherman on Shepard Avenue in Newport in 1874, the perspectives of several of Shaw’s
+manors had appeared in the <i>Building News</i> and the plans of two. As a result, probably,
+of his assistant Stanford White’s Shaw-like skill with the pencil, the Sherman house was
+notably Shavian externally. Above the ground storey, which is of Richardsonian
+random-ashlar masonry in pink Milford granite with brownstone trim, the walls and
+the high roofs are covered with shingles cut in various decorative shapes suggested by
+those of Shaw’s tile-hanging. Many of the casement windows are grouped to form
+window-walls in the ground storey and arranged in long horizontal bands above. The
+half-timbering of the front gable, with painted decoration on the intervening plaster,
+was taken straight from Shaw’s Grim’s Dyke; the carved ornament on the barge-boards
+is almost Nesfieldian in its suggestion of <i>japonisme</i>. Thus the whole is as perfect a specimen
+of Shaw’s Manorial mode as anything any architect other than he or Nesfield ever
+produced in England. The house has since been much enlarged, partly by White in 1881,
+partly by Newton very much later, but always with due respect for the character of the
+original design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The plan has more of the independent virtues of that of the Codman project. The
+hall provides a principal portion of the living area, and the other main rooms open into
+it through wide doors; thus there is some flow of space throughout the whole original
+block. The original library at the rear corner, later replaced by a large ballroom, ended
+in a Shavian rounded bay with a continuous window band, a feature Wright would
+copy later. Yet otherwise the house was less articulated than Shaw’s earlier ones,
+having rather the compactness though none of the symmetry of Webb’s Trevor Hall.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mid seventies saw many other American reflections of Shaw’s Manorial mode
+and soon of his Queen Anne also, none of them so successful as the Sherman house. But
+the deep business recession that followed the Panic of 1873 led to a general mood of repentance
+after the extravagances, architectural and otherwise, of the post-war boom.
+From the resultant nostalgia for the simpler ways of the American past there began to
+develop at this time a great interest in the houses of the Colonial period, an interest that
+readily merged, however, with the current English preoccupation with the vernacular
+of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. To an extent difficult for posterity to appreciate,
+the nascent ‘Shingle Style’,<a id="r340"></a><a href='#f340' class='c025'><sup>[340]</sup></a> which crystallized towards the end of the decade
+with the revival of building production, was to its protagonists already a sort of Colonial
+Revival. Although its origins are partly Shavian, it represents above all a reaction, as did
+Shaw’s Manorial mode in England, against the ‘modernism’ of the High Victorian
+Gothic and the Second Empire, now grown thoroughly unfashionable except in the
+West.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Boston was still the architectural metropolis of the United States, and it was around
+Boston, especially in the work of Emerson and Little, the latter a serious early student
+of old Colonial work, that this crystallization of the Shingle Style first took place (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). But it was at once taken over and given a somewhat more Shaw-like elaboration
+by the New York firm of McKim, Mead &amp; White, formed in 1879. From the early
+eighties, and for over a decade, the Shingle Style was widely practised by architects
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>from coast to coast, and not least happily in the Far West. The characteristic use of
+shingles as an all-over wall-covering emphasized the continuity of the exterior surface
+as a skin stretched over the underlying wooden skeleton of studs, in contrast to the way
+the preceding Stick Style had echoed that skeleton in the external treatment. The
+shingles properly provide the name for a most characteristically American domestic
+mode; but it was in planning that American architects made the really original contribution
+in what was the most significant development of the detached house since the
+Picturesque period.</p>
+
+<div id='i266'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i266.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 26. W. R. Emerson: Mount Desert, Maine, house, 1879, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>One of the first mature examples of the Shingle Style, a house built by Emerson on
+Mount Desert in Maine in 1879, well illustrates the virtuosity of the new planning
+(Figure <a href='#i266'>26</a>). Rooms of varied shape and size are loosely grouped about the hall and open
+freely into one another. The various levels of the different areas are related to the landing
+levels of the elaborate staircase. Above all, it should be noted that the verandas are
+not mere adjuncts or afterthoughts, as they were even on Richardson’s Andrews house,
+but major elements, both space-wise and visually, of the whole composition. Such
+houses parallel in their three-dimensional complexity the massing of the Italian Villas
+of the earlier nineteenth-century decades with their loggias, pergolas, and prospect
+towers, yet they bear little or no visual resemblance to them, since the later houses are
+always much more sculpturally plastic and less articulated in composition. The windows
+are generally of double-hung small-paned sashes of a type at once Queen Anne and
+Colonial, but they are frequently grouped in the Shavian way, as well as being ingeniously
+placed in order to vary the internal lighting effects, so that the pattern of
+fenestration is not at all of an eighteenth-century order.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>Richardson certainly did not initiate the Shingle Style; but he took it over in 1880
+and made it very much his own, using it for all his later country and suburban houses.
+Dropping all detail, whether Richardsonian Romanesque, Shavian Manorial, Queen
+Anne, or American Colonial, he retained much of the ease and casualness of Shaw’s best
+early houses. But there is also a great deal of similarity to the simple massive effects of
+the old Colonial houses also. Spiritually, so to say, if not so much visually, Richardson’s
+shingled houses most resemble Webb’s best work; of these Richardson presumably had
+no knowledge, although it is just possible that he might have seen some when he was in
+England in 1882, well after the Shingle Style was fully established.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Richardson’s Stoughton house in Brattle Street in Cambridge, Mass., of 1882-3 is
+perhaps his best shingled one, at least in the relatively untouched form in which it,
+almost alone, alas, has come down to us (Plate <a href='#pl124b'>124<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). It certainly shows little evidence of
+the interest that he is known to have taken in Burges’s and Shaw’s work while he
+was abroad just before this. The entrance, originally, was through the loggia recessed
+into the main mass of the house (it is now from Ash Street on the left). The living-hall
+extends, as in the Sherman house, from front to back and the stairs sweep up in a quarter-circle
+over the entrance. The drawing room at the corner and the dining room behind
+the loggia both open into the hall through wide doors; only the small library is isolated
+from the general flow of space. Externally, the shingled surfaces, broken only by banks
+of double-hung windows, model the complex mass into a unified composition, the
+almost submerged stair-tower successfully linking the two gabled wings at right angles to
+one another by its rounded form. There is no ornament of any sort, and the weathered
+grey of the shingles is varied only by the dark-green paint of the window sash.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>McKim, Mead &amp; White’s houses of the early eighties, several of them equally fine,
+are usually rather more elaborate in their massing and are likely to be enlivened with
+much imaginative detail.<a id="r341"></a><a href='#f341' class='c025'><sup>[341]</sup></a> Some of the detail recalls this or that style of the past, but all
+of it is thoroughly personalized by White’s delicate hand. One of their best houses is the
+one for Isaac Bell, Jr, built in 1881-2 in Bellevue Avenue in Newport,
+R.I. (Plate #126:pl126). This is less unified externally than the Stoughton
+house but more open in plan
+(Figure <a href='#i268'>27</a>). A wide veranda, with very elegant bamboo-like supports, extends around
+two fronts, expanding into a two-storeyed open pavilion on the right. This pavilion
+provides a semicircular void to balance the round tower at the rear left corner. The
+patterns of the original cut shingles on this house, although obviously suggested by
+English tiling, are much softer and more graceful, almost bringing to mind birds’
+plumage.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Inside, the hall is articulated by a wide ingle-nook, rather dark and low, in sharpest
+contrast to the great flight of stairs beyond down which floods light from the window-wall
+at the half landing. Twenty-five-foot sliding doors, hung from above, make it
+possible to open the drawing room through almost its entire length into the hall. The
+Bell dining room, connecting at its end through French windows with the curved
+portion of the veranda, has some of the finest of White’s orientalizing detail. This is
+much more original than that in the new library he decorated at this time in the Sherman
+house or the dining room he added to Upjohn’s Kingscote, both also in Newport.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>McKim, Mead &amp; White’s slightly earlier H. Victor Newcomb house of 1880-1 in
+Elberon, N.J., is at once clumsier and more Shavian externally than the Bell house; but
+the spatial treatment of the living-hall is most original and very significant for later
+developments (Plate <a href='#pl125a'>125<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The main rectangular space, of which the shape is emphasized
+by the ceiling beams and by the abstract geometrical pattern of the floor, seems
+to flow out in various directions into other rooms and into several bays and nooks; but
+the actual room-space is sharply defined by a continuous frieze-like member that becomes
+an open wooden grille above the various openings. There can be little question
+that the major influence here is from the Japanese<a id="r342"></a><a href='#f342' class='c025'><sup>[342]</sup></a> interior, but from the Japanese interior
+understood as architecture. This is not just a superficial matter of Nesfieldian
+<i>japonisme</i> such as White was employing so much in his ornament in these years. The
+Kingscote dining room has somewhat similar spatial qualities but more eclectic detailing
+and richer materials: marble, Tiffany glass tiles, cork panels, stained glass, etc.</p>
+
+<div id='i268'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i268.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 27. McKim, Mead &amp; White: Newport, R.I., Isaac Bell, Jr, house, 1881-2, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1879 Cyrus McCormick had his Chicago mansion built by the local architect
+Adolph Cudell (1850-1910) and his partner Blumenthal in the form of a very corrupt
+Second Empire <i>hôtel particulier</i>. It is good evidence of the rapidity with which taste
+changed at this time that two years later he called on McKim, Mead &amp; White to build
+for him in Richfield Springs, N.Y., one of the finest and most carefully composed of all
+their Shingle Style houses. This house is notable not only for the subtly Japanese character
+of the various sorts of veranda supports but even more for the way the composition
+is unified under the broad front gable by the long horizontal line of the veranda roof
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>repeating that of the stylobate-like stone wall of the terrace below. It is most unfortunate
+that this house is now in a state of near-collapse.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Little’s contemporary Shingleside House of 1881 in Swampscott, Mass., has been
+mentioned already. Soberer than the Bell or the McCormick houses in its rectangular
+shape and almost total lack of exterior detail, this had a galleried two-storey hall with a
+window-wall as the principal living area. In the combining of different levels this house
+recalled a little Cloverley Hall, but it was completely Americanized in scale and in
+detail without being archaeologically Neo-Colonial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the mid eighties J. Lyman Silsbee (1848-1913) had introduced the Shingle Style to
+Chicago, and other Eastern architects were building good houses of this order in such
+Western towns as Cheyenne, Idaho; Colorado Springs, Colorado; and Pasadena,
+California. In Philadelphia Wilson Eyre (1858-1944) developed the mode with a very
+characteristic personal difference, often eschewing the use of shingles. If his exteriors
+are rather English in their frequent use of brick and real half-timbering, his plans are
+most original. The long rooms of varied and irregular shape are strung out on either
+side of halls from which rise stairs within grilled enclosures of a sort that appeared in
+England only in the houses of the nineties by Voysey and his contemporaries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The heyday of the Shingle Style was brief, even though it continued in use well down
+into the nineties. The Colonial Revival implications, present from the first, soon encouraged
+more and more comprehensive use of eighteenth-century detail, and this
+supported the general tendency of the mid eighties in America away from the irregular
+and towards more formal order (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). Something of this change could be
+seen in Richardson’s latest houses in masonry such as the Glessner house of 1885-7 at
+18th Street and South Prairie Avenue in Chicago, which still stands, and the contemporary
+Mac Veagh house, long since destroyed, also in Chicago, both of which were
+almost symmetrical as regards their front façades. The most drastic examples, of course,
+of this Academic Reaction were such houses as McKim, Mead &amp; White’s Villard group
+in New York (Plate <a href='#pl109b'>109<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) and their H. A. C. Taylor house in Newport with its formal
+Anglo-Palladian plan of central hall and four corner rooms. Despite its even tighter
+plan, however, their extant W. G. Low house in Bristol, R.I., of 1887—a year later
+therefore than the demolished Taylor house—can properly be cited again as a masterpiece
+of the Shingle Style (Plate <a href='#pl127'>127</a>). This illustrates very well how the loose massing
+of the houses of the early eighties could be organized into a carefully balanced composition
+without succumbing to any historical mode of design, whether Italian Renaissance
+or American Colonial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Particularly interesting in this connexion are the small houses at Tuxedo Park, N.Y.,
+which Price designed for Pierre Lorillard in 1885-6, some years before he began to build
+Renaissance skyscrapers (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). Lorillard’s own house has a rather tight plan of
+the Neo-Colonial sort; but the exterior with its paired chimneys on the front, a Richardsonian
+entrance arch between them, and the verandas and terrace treated as voids carefully
+related to the solid mass behind is still in the earlier tradition (Plate <a href='#pl125b'>125<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In such
+other houses by Price at Tuxedo as those for William Kent and Travis C. Van Buren,
+the loose open plans of the immediately preceding years were organized into
+<span class="sans">T</span> and <span class="sans">X</span>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>patterns, and the verandas and terraces were even more formally treated as important
+elements in compositions made up of well-defined voids and solids (Figure <a href='#i270'>28</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This brings us to the beginning of the career of Frank Lloyd Wright, already introduced
+as an important coadjutor of Sullivan from 1887 to 1893. Although Wright’s
+mature career begins only about 1900 (see Chapter <a href='#ch19'>19</a>), his apprentice years as a builder
+of houses provide a very significant episode that is closely related to the earlier story
+of the nineteenth-century house in England and America. By the late eighties a full-dress
+Colonial Revival was under way in the East. But it was the particular combination
+of freedom and order that had been achieved by Richardson in his latest houses, by
+McKim, Mead &amp; White in their Low house, and by Price in his Tuxedo houses which
+was the immediate tradition from which Wright’s domestic architecture grew far more
+than the work of Sullivan.</p>
+
+<div id='i270'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i270.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 28. Bruce Price: Tuxedo Park, N.Y., Tower House, 1885-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Born in 1867, Wright had had some two years in the Engineering School—there was
+no architectural school—at the University of Wisconsin when he came to Chicago at
+the age of twenty in 1887. He first found work in the office of Silsbee whom
+Wright’s uncle Jenkin Lloyd Jones had brought to Chicago a year or two earlier to
+design All Souls’ Unitarian Church, of which he was minister. The young architect’s first
+work, nominally a Silsbee commission, was the Hillside Home School built in 1887 for
+his aunts near Spring Green, Wisconsin. This was a rather provincial specimen of a
+Shingle Style house and was later demolished by Wright himself.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>Shifting over the following year to the Adler &amp; Sullivan office, Wright by 1889
+was married and ready to build a house for himself on the strength of a five-year
+contract with his new employers. This house, at 428 Forest Avenue in Oak Park, Ill.,
+still extant but much pulled about, derives almost entirely from Price’s cottages at
+Tuxedo except that the plan is much less formal. In the interior, the wide openings
+between the rooms are not framed by architraves but seem to have been produced by
+pulling back the walls beneath the continuous frieze. In this treatment, rather Japanese
+in concept, Wright would seem to have been influenced by White’s handling of the hall
+of the Newcomb house, even though that is rather Japanese also in some of the detailing
+and Wright’s is not.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright’s next important work is the James Charnley house at 1365 Astor Street in
+Chicago, built in 1891-2. This was actually a commission of the Adler &amp; Sullivan firm,
+but one of which he had entire charge. A city house built of tawny Roman brick like
+that used for the court of the Boston Public Library, this is as formal<a id="r343"></a><a href='#f343' class='c025'><sup>[343]</sup></a> as anything
+McKim, Mead &amp; White had yet designed. But there is no High Renaissance or Colonial
+reminiscence whatever in the external detailing. The Charnley house is rather a conscientious
+attempt to emulate in a modest three-storey residence the highly original
+design of Sullivan’s newly completed Wainwright Building in Saint Louis.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright was also accepting various private commissions on the side, mostly very small
+ones, by this time. The George Blossom house of 1892 at 4858 Kenwood Avenue on
+the south side of Chicago, however, is of more consequence. Externally, this follows
+rather closely McKim, Mead &amp; White’s Taylor house in the curved Ionic entrance
+porch and the recurrent Palladian windows, not to speak of the use of yellow-painted
+clapboards and white-painted trim of simplified academic character. Even the plan is for
+the most part symmetrically ordered. But behind the formal range of entrance lobby and
+two small corner rooms at the front the whole centre of the house opens up as a single
+great living-hall. In this living-hall a wide ingle-nook is lined up on axis with the entrance,
+the elaborate staircase rises in several flights across one end, and wide openings
+connect with the library and the dining room. The dining room, which ends in a curved
+bay with a continuous window-band, is almost a copy of the original library of Richardson’s
+Sherman house. In another Wright house of 1892, that for A. W. Harlan, also on
+the south side of Chicago, at 4414 Greenwood Avenue, which Sullivan happened to see,
+he recognized his assistant’s hand and this brought about the break between the two
+before Wright’s contract ran out.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When Wright set up for himself in 1893 there were two paths open to him. That he
+actually considered following the path of Academic Reaction, so heavily publicized by
+the success of the World’s Fair, is evident from his project of this year for a Library and
+Museum in Milwaukee (see Chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>). But when Burnham at this point offered to
+send Wright to Paris to study at the École des Beaux-Arts and then to the new American
+Academy which he and McKim were planning to start in Rome, in preparation for
+taking him on as designing partner, the young architect turned the opportunity down.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The W. H. Winslow house of 1893 in Auvergne Place in River Forest, Ill., always
+considered by Wright his ‘first’, shares many qualities with the Blossom and Harlan
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>houses, but is altogether a much more mature and original work (Plate <a href='#pl128a'>128<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The
+front is completely symmetrical and as formal as that of the Charnley house of two
+years before.<a id="r344"></a><a href='#f344' class='c025'><sup>[344]</sup></a> Broad and low, of fine Roman brickwork with a rich band of moulded
+terracotta the full depth of the upper-storey windows below the wide eaves, the general
+effect of this has usually been considered very Sullivanian. But as Wright himself was
+responsible for the Adler &amp; Sullivan work that this house most resembles—the Charnley
+house, certainly; and the Victoria Hotel of 1892 at Chicago Heights, probably—it is more
+accurate to consider that the Winslow house represents a continuation of his own manner
+of the previous year or two. The plan is more axial and less open than that of the
+Blossom house, the still rather Richardsonian dining room with its rounded bay being
+placed here at the centre of the rear. The staircase, still so prominent in the Shingle Style
+way at the Blossom house, is here pushed out of sight between walls.</p>
+
+<div id='i272'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i272.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 29. Frank Lloyd Wright: Chicago, Isidore Heller house, 1897, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright’s next important house, that of 1897 for Isidore Heller at 5132 Woodlawn
+Avenue on the south side of Chicago, perhaps shows some Japanese<a id="r345"></a><a href='#f345' class='c025'><sup>[345]</sup></a> influence in the
+succession of eaves-lines, one above the other. It is the development of the plan, however,
+that is most significant, as also the effect of the planning on the treatment of the
+exterior (Figure <a href='#i272'>29</a>). The two principal living rooms are linked by a stair-hall into which
+they both open through wide apertures—no more mere doorways than in his own house
+of 1889, but tall breaks in the continuity of the walls. Although these rooms have ingle-nooks,
+they are not casual and cosy in the Shingle Style way but carefully ordered;
+both, indeed, are of regular cruciform shape. This shape, moreover, is given external
+expression in the plastic articulation of the external massing, an articulation that the
+multiple eaves echo above.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two years later, in the Joseph W. Husser house, now destroyed, in Buena Park on the
+north side of Chicago, Wright’s personal development of domestic planning was carried
+much farther (Figure <a href='#i273'>30</a>). Here the main living rooms were all raised to the first storey
+in order to have a good view of Lake Michigan, and the interior space was continued
+uninterrupted along the main axis of the house from the dining-room fireplace across
+the landing and through to the living-room fireplace. But the dining room was also
+articulated along a cross axis, extending outward into a large polygonal bay facing the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>lake, somewhat like the more Richardsonian bays of the Blossom and Winslow dining
+rooms.</p>
+
+<div id='i273'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i273.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 30. Frank Lloyd Wright: Chicago, J. W. Husser house, 1899, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Between the two houses just described, in which Wright’s planning developed so
+rapidly and so boldly towards unified but articulated space, came the River Forest
+Golf Club in River Forest, Ill. The front wing of this, built in 1898,<a id="r346"></a><a href='#f346' class='c025'><sup>[346]</sup></a> showed a comparable
+maturing of his vocabulary of wooden construction. The two Chicago houses
+were both of brick with rather lush Sullivanian terracotta decoration below the eaves
+not unlike that on the Schiller Building. At the Golf Club the characteristic feeling of the
+Shingle Style for rough natural wood surfaces was revived by Wright but made more
+architectonic in scale. Below continuous window bands protected by his characteristic
+hovering eaves, the lower walls and the terrace parapets were sheathed with boards
+and battens, not applied vertically as by Downing, but horizontally. Uncovered terrace,
+covered veranda, glazed foyer, all were closely related spatial areas, the last two
+unified by the continuous roof. The only solid element was the broad stone chimney
+marking the point where the main axis and the subsidiary axis of the low side-wings
+crossed. In 1901 the building was much enlarged by Wright, but quite in the original
+spirit (Plate <a href='#pl128b'>128<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1900, the last year of the nineteenth century, with which this account of Wright’s
+beginnings may properly close, he built two houses side by side in Kankakee, Ill. He
+also designed for the <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> ‘A Home in a Prairie Town’ which was published
+in February 1901. The larger of the two Kankakee houses, that for B. Harley
+Bradley at 701 South Harrison Avenue, is a large, loosely cruciform composition with
+low-pitched gables projecting in blunt points well beyond the ends of the wings. The
+smaller Hickox house, next door at 687 South Harrison Avenue, has a more advanced
+plan under similar roofs. Wood stripping suggests the stud structure underneath the
+stucco of the walls as do also, and rather more directly, the wooden window mullions
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>(Plate <a href='#pl142a'>142<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The living room here, flanked by semi-octagonal music and dining rooms,
+extends across the ‘garden front’ and opens by french doors on to the uncovered terrace
+(Figure <a href='#i274'>31</a>). Here the articulated but unified space of the Husser house was reduced in
+scale and simplified until it provided a quite new concept of domestic planning, later
+to be widely influential internationally (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). Towards that new concept
+much of the development of the Anglo-American house since as far back as the 1790s
+may seem—not too exaggeratedly—to have been tending.</p>
+
+<div id='i274'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i274.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 31. Frank Lloyd Wright: Kankakee, Ill., Warren Hickox house, 1900, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> project for a ‘House in a Prairie Town’, from which the
+term ‘Prairie Houses’ for Wright’s characteristic production of the next decade derives,
+is larger than the Hickox house, but the living area was intended to be very similarly
+unified and articulated. In one version Wright even proposed carrying this space up
+two storeys in the centre, somewhat like one of Shaw’s manorial halls. As on the River
+Forest Golf Club, the long lines of the low hip roofs shelter very long window-bands—out
+of Shaw, via Richardson, presumably. Although the <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> house
+was intended to be stuccoed like the Kankakee houses, the window mullions echo the
+underlying wooden stud structure. As at the Golf Club, the chimneys would be the
+only really solid elements, passing up through the crossing volumes defined by the two
+levels of roof. The lower line of eaves extends, somewhat as on McKim, Mead &amp; White’s
+McCormick house, over the <i>porte-cochère</i> on one side and over the veranda on the other,
+a treatment Wright had already tried out somewhat clumsily on the Bradley house.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In considering the significance of these Wright houses of 1900 it must be recognized
+that even in America they were highly exceptional. Despite the fact that the ‘Prairie
+house’ project was published in a general magazine of national circulation, its immediate
+influence was very slight indeed. For all the vigour of the two great Chicago achievements
+of the nineties, Sullivan’s skyscrapers and Wright’s earliest houses, the main
+direction of American architecture in 1900 was quite different. So also in the England of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>these years, where Shaw’s house for Fred White and his Bryanston had introduced by
+the nineties almost the same sort of Academic Revival as had McKim, Mead &amp; White’s
+Villard and Taylor houses, the work of Voysey, the English architect most comparable
+to Wright, was also almost as exceptional. The line of architectural development had
+already split as sharply as in America, with the difference that the longer-lived Shaw
+himself had taken the lead in the academic direction that Richardson’s pupils, McKim
+and White, took in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although Charles Francis Annesley Voysey (1857-1941)<a id="r347"></a><a href='#f347' class='c025'><sup>[347]</sup></a> was ten years older than
+Wright, it is understandable with English conditions that his architectural career got
+under way little earlier. From 1874 to 1880 he worked as a pupil in the office of Seddon;
+from 1880 until he set up for himself in 1882 he was assistant to Devey.<a id="r348"></a><a href='#f348' class='c025'><sup>[348]</sup></a> In 1883 Voysey
+sold his first designs for wallpapers and printed fabrics, but for several more years he did
+little building. His first house, The Cottage at Bishop’s Itchington in Warwickshire, was
+built only in 1888; in the next two years various projects of his, increasingly original in
+character, were published in the <i>British Architect</i>; of these the one for a house<a id="r349"></a><a href='#f349' class='c025'><sup>[349]</sup></a> at Dovercourt
+of 1890 was the most advanced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the late eighties Nesfield and Godwin were both dead and leadership in English
+architecture, particularly as regards the domestic field, rested more firmly than ever in
+Shaw’s hands. The forces of innovation in English art were concentrated in the decorative
+field, thanks in part to Webb’s continuing activities with the Morris firm. But
+there is some question how well younger men like Voysey really knew Webb’s architectural
+work; almost none of it was published, and some of the best is hidden in remote
+parts of Scotland and the North of England. The work of A. H. Mackmurdo (1851-1942)
+was perhaps somewhat better known, but he was much more active with furniture,
+chintzes, and wallpapers than with building in the eighties. A project for a ‘House
+for an Artist’ that he published in his magazine <i>The Hobby Horse</i> in 1888 was of considerable
+promise, however. In any case Voysey soon rivalled Mackmurdo as a designer
+of furniture, wallpapers, and chintzes, and quite outclassed him as an architect. Mackmurdo’s
+most significant influence was probably abroad (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The existence of an earlier project dated 1888 for Voysey’s house for J. W. Forster at
+Bedford Park has led to some confusion. The executed house dates from 1891. Sometimes
+known as the Grey House, it is very different indeed from its neighbours, by this
+time some fifteen or more years old, by Godwin, Shaw, and their pupils. For one
+thing, its walls are covered with roughcast, already used by Voysey on The Cottage at
+Bishop’s Itchington; for another, it is a three-storey rectangular box, severe and rather
+formal beneath its low hipped roof, not quaint and irregular like even the simplest of
+the earlier houses. The casement windows are arranged in bands between stone mullions,
+regularly but not symmetrically, and the eaves troughs are supported by delicately
+curved iron brackets. Otherwise there is no external detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The plan of the Forster house is also compact and regular, with entrance on the left
+side and living room across the front. In other words this house represents as much of a
+reaction against the picturesqueness of the earlier Queen Anne as does Shaw’s Fred
+White house, yet is quite without eighteenth-century reminiscence.<a id="r350"></a><a href='#f350' class='c025'><sup>[350]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>More interesting and more prominent than the contemporary storey-and-a-half house
+known as The Studio at 17 St Dunstan’s Road in West Kensington are a pair of terrace-houses,
+also designed in 1891 but begun only the next year, at 14-16 Hans Road off the
+Brompton Road in London. Here Voysey dropped the roughcast he had originally proposed
+and used Webb-like red brickwork with the windows characteristically arranged
+in bands between plain stone mullions. The elegantly original detailing of the projecting
+stone porches and the curved line of the parapets at the top are related to his contemporary
+decorative work and in notable contrast to the almost ‘Monumental Queen
+Anne’ treatment of Mackmurdo’s slightly later house next door at No. 12.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A moderate-sized country house, Perrycroft, Colwall, near Malvern, begun in 1893,
+may be considered Voysey’s first mature production, introducing in executed work the
+personal mode of design for which the Ward project of 1890 had already shown the
+way, and from which he never moved very far in later years. This is comparable, not
+to Wright’s ‘first’ house in River Forest of the same date, but to his more advanced
+work of the end of the decade, the River Forest Golf Club and the Hickox house.
+Roughcast walls, windows arranged in bands between plain mullions,<a id="r351"></a><a href='#f351' class='c025'><sup>[351]</sup></a> a regular composition
+approaching but not quite reaching symmetry, these all follow from the Grey
+House and the Studio. But, being in the country, the house could spread out more.
+Moreover, the roofs were raised to a medieval pitch—45 degrees—so that their
+conspicuously heavy slating is as much a part of Voysey’s simple craftsman-like mode as
+are the off-white roughcast walls. The planning is closer to Webb’s than to Wright’s,
+the rooms being less symmetrically shaped and not opening at all into one another in
+the way of the Ward project.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A rather larger house, begun in 1896 on the Hog’s Back near Guildford
+in Surrey for the American Julian Sturgis, presumptive original of
+Santayana’s <i>Last Puritan</i>, has a somewhat less balanced
+composition with a prominent cross gable near one end (Plate <a href='#pl129a'>129<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+The characteristic stone-mullioned lights of several
+of the rooms are here so extensive in their grouping as to constitute
+window-walls of the earlier Shavian sort.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In what is doubtless Voysey’s finest work, Broadleys on Lake Windermere, designed
+in 1898, the roofs are lower once more, and the window-walls are concentrated in three
+rounded bays along the lakeside terrace (Plate <a href='#pl129b'>129<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Here the hall in the middle is carried
+up two storeys, quite as Wright proposed to do in one version of his first <i>Ladies
+Home Journal</i> house (Figure <a href='#i277'>32</a>). In its horizontality, its concentration of fenestration,
+and its avoidance of medieval feeling, this house represents the extreme point of innovation
+and originality in Voysey’s work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>His own house, The Orchard, at Chorley Wood in Hertfordshire, was completed in
+1900. Externally this resembles closely his earlier houses, but The Orchard has two cross
+gables and hence a stronger feeling of symmetry. Towards this the more regular and
+carefully balanced spacing of the window bands further conduces. In studying the vocabulary
+of this house, a vocabulary destined to be parodied <i>ad infinitum</i> by architects and
+then by builders in the next twenty-five years, one can understand his feeling that he
+was a reformer not an innovator—the last disciple of Pugin, so to say, to whose secular work
+a line can be traced back via Webb, Street, and Butterfield. In Voysey’s special sense of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>continuity, which grew on him in later years, lies his great difference from Wright; for
+Wright was certainly determined, from the time he designed the Winslow house, to be
+as great an innovator—as much of an architectural creator—as was Sullivan in his skyscrapers.
+None the less, to look forward a little, such a house by Voysey as that now
+called Little Court at Pyrford Common in Surrey, built in 1902, is quite worthy of
+comparison with Wright’s masterpieces of that year (see Chapter <a href='#ch19'>19</a>). It shows little
+further development beyond his houses of the late nineties, however, except for a
+certain increase in horizontal emphasis.</p>
+
+<div id='i277'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i277.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 32. C. F. A. Voysey: Lake Windermere, Broadleys, 1898-9, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just before and just after 1900, Voysey’s work was very much better known and more
+influential in England, and increasingly in other countries,<a id="r352"></a><a href='#f352' class='c025'><sup>[352]</sup></a> than was Wright’s either at
+home or abroad at that time. Moreover, many contemporaries in England were building
+rather similar houses. One of them, M. H. Baillie Scott (1865-1945), who also
+worked a good deal on the Continent, developed his planning much farther in the
+direction of Wright-like openness along the lines suggested by Voysey’s project of
+1890 for the Ward house. The many houses, both executed and projected, that
+Baillie Scott published in <i>Houses and Gardens</i> in 1906 made his planning known to the
+young architects of the Continent (Figure <a href='#i278'>33</a>). Characteristic is his Blackwell house on
+Lake Windermere of about 1900 with an enormous two-storey living-hall elaborated
+spatially by various ingle-nooks and so forth. The plan was published by Muthesius in
+1904, and may well have influenced Adolf Loos in Vienna and other Europeans even
+before his own book appeared (see Chapters <a href='#ch20'>20</a> and <a href='#ch21'>21</a>). After 1906 Baillie Scott’s work
+became quite ‘traditional’, and it is hard to believe that the projects published in the
+later version of his <i>Houses and Gardens</i> in 1933 are by the same man.</p>
+
+<div id='i278'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>
+<img src='images/i278.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 33. M. H. Baillie Scott: Trevista, <i>c.</i> 1905, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The name of W. R. Lethaby (1857-1931), later the biographer of Webb and an influential
+writer on architecture, should also be at least mentioned here. When Lethaby
+left Shaw’s office, where he had been chief assistant, he began his career by building
+Avon Tyrrell in Hampshire in 1891, a large brick country house closer to Webb’s than
+to Shaw’s in character. But his main contribution was not in the field of domestic
+architecture.<a id="r353"></a><a href='#f353' class='c025'><sup>[353]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Already by the mid nineties, the most successful English house-builder, more than
+rivalling Voysey in the quantity and occasionally even in the quality of his domestic
+work, was Sir Edwin L. Lutyens (1869-1944). Beginning like Voysey in the late
+eighties by building cottages, his first house of real distinction was the one he built for
+his cousin and frequent collaborator, the garden-designer Gertrude Jekyll, at Munstead
+Wood near Godalming in 1896. Several other good houses followed shortly, including
+notably The Orchards, Godalming, in 1898; but this early period of his work really
+culminates in Deanery Gardens at Sonning in Berkshire of 1901 (Plate <a href='#pl182b'>182<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In these
+houses are preserved all the best of the Shavian Manorial—the great timber-framed
+bay-window of the two-storeyed hall at Deanery Gardens is exemplary—simplifying
+and regularizing that mode under the influence of Webb and even approaching Webb’s
+standards of craftsmanship in the execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like Webb in his later work, Lutyens used almost from the first a good deal of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>stylistic detail in interiors; he also turned back towards the ‘traditional’ in his exteriors
+considerably earlier than Baillie Scott when designing such houses as Overstrand Hall in
+Norfolk and Tigbourne Court at Witley in Surrey, both built in 1899 two years before
+Deanery Gardens. Lutyens became from about 1906 the leading architect of his generation
+in England, and his later work will be treated elsewhere (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). His increasing
+material success after the opening years of the century, rivalling Shaw’s in
+the previous generation, is to a certain extent the measure, though not the cause, of
+Voysey’s decline in popularity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>C. R. Ashbee (1863-1942) and George Walton (1867-1933)<a id="r354"></a><a href='#f354' class='c025'><sup>[354]</sup></a> were other domestic
+architects active in the nineties and the early years of the new century. The latter belongs
+to the Glasgow School, of which Mackintosh was the principal figure, and like Mackintosh
+he was more decorator than architect (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>). One house in England, The
+Leys at Elstree of 1901, may be mentioned here. The interiors are fine examples of the
+Arts and Crafts mode, as it is sometimes called, more stylized than Voysey’s but less
+original than Mackintosh’s. The plan is organized symmetrically around a large two-storey
+hall rivalling Baillie Scott’s of the period in its complex spatial development.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ashbee was one of the first Europeans to appreciate the significance of Wright, and
+was appropriately chosen by Wasmuth to write the introduction to his second publication
+of Wright’s work in 1911 (see Chapter <a href='#ch19'>19</a>). Three houses by Ashbee side by side
+in Cheyne Walk in London, No. 37 of 1894 and Nos 38-39 of 1904, represent the
+chronological span of his significant architectural production and illustrate clearly his
+characteristic progress from the Shavian to an originality at least comparable to Voysey’s.
+Closely associated with the Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society, Ashbee was like most of
+these men except Voysey<a id="r355"></a><a href='#f355' class='c025'><sup>[355]</sup></a> and Lutyens generally more active in the field of decorative
+art than in building. Right through this period English decorative art exercised a major
+influence on the Continent (see Chapters <a href='#ch16'>16</a> and <a href='#ch17'>17</a>). So close is Mackintosh’s tie with
+the Continent that his schools and even his houses are better discussed in relation to the
+Art Nouveau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of all these English architects who have just been mentioned, Voysey was the most
+creative in the field of domestic architecture and, except for Lutyens, the most productive
+down at least through the early years of the twentieth century; after 1910 he built
+almost nothing at all. Yet Voysey did not die until 1941, by which time a younger
+generation, to his confusion, had accepted him as a father of a modern architecture that
+he disapproved as strongly as did Lutyens. In 1940 he returned almost from the grave to
+receive the Gold Medal of the Royal Institute of British Architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From the Picturesque cottages of the opening decades of the nineteenth century to
+the early masterpieces of Wright and Voysey around 1900 is a far cry, further perhaps
+in the drastic revision that it represented of so old-established a building type as the
+dwelling-house than from Parris’s Market Street buildings in Boston of 1824 to Sullivan’s
+Carson, Pirie &amp; Scott Store in Chicago as completed eighty years later in 1904.
+Yet in Anglo-American domestic architecture, quite as was the case with commercial
+architecture, real achievement recurred all through the century.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c005'>
+    <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>PART THREE</div>
+    <div class='c000'>1890-1955</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <h2 id='ch16' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 16</span><br />THE BEGINNINGS OF THE ART NOUVEAU: VICTOR HORTA</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> two preceding chapters, in entering the nineties, crossed what is perhaps the major
+historical frontier within the century and a half covered by this book. The skyscrapers
+of Sullivan and the early houses of Wright and Voysey—despite Voysey’s own disavowal
+of modernism—are among the first major manifestations of the period of architectural
+history that extends down to and includes our own time. The contemporaries
+of these men who were the new leaders on the Continent in the nineties had as sharp a
+sense of the novelty of the innovations they were making as did Sullivan or Wright, and
+the most characteristic stylistic formulation of this decade in Europe was appropriately
+known from an early date<a id="r356"></a><a href='#f356' class='c025'><sup>[356]</sup></a> as ‘Art Nouveau’. Before discussing the Art Nouveau itself,
+two related developments that precede it must be considered at least briefly. In France,
+various feats of metal construction of the sixties, seventies, and eighties had prepared
+the way for the Art Nouveau on the technical side, and these have, moreover, considerable
+intrinsic interest in their own right. English innovations in decorative art of the
+eighties and nineties are accepted by most historians as providing one of the most important
+immediate sources of the Art Nouveau,<a id="r357"></a><a href='#f357' class='c025'><sup>[357]</sup></a> and English architecture and architectural
+theory of the later decades of the nineteenth century certainly offered a generic
+stimulus to Europeans between 1890 and 1910 that was of vital consequence to subsequent
+developments.</p>
+<p class='c010'>By the early nineties advanced English work began to be widely known on the Continent.
+In 1888 the German architect Alexander Koch (1848-1911) started to publish
+annually his <i>Academy Architecture</i> bringing current English production, and many significant
+projects also, to the attention of designers abroad. <i>L’Architecture moderne en
+Angleterre</i> by the French architect Paul Sédille (1836-1900) appeared in Paris in 1890.
+The architect Hermann Muthesius (1861-1927), who was stationed at the German
+Embassy in London from 1896 to 1903 primarily to study low-cost housing, issued two
+folio volumes devoted to <i>Die englische Baukunst der Gegenwart</i> in 1900-2, another on
+<i>Die neuere kirchliche Baukunst in England</i> in 1902 and, in 1904-5, three thick quarto volumes
+on <i>Das englische Haus</i>. These richly illustrated books made much of the story of the development
+of English architecture in the second half of the century available in German
+long before it was pieced together by the English (see Chapters <a href='#ch12'>12</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>Voysey never worked abroad; but his houses, known internationally from an early
+date thanks to their publication in the <i>Studio</i>, an English periodical founded in 1893,
+were soon much studied on the Continent, and to a lesser extent in America. Voysey’s
+contemporaries Baillie Scott and Charles Rennie Mackintosh (1868-1928), however,
+both received foreign commissions as early as 1898; in fact, Mackintosh and his highly
+original ideas—he was no Voyseyan ‘reformer’ but a very bold innovator—received
+more support abroad than at home and were much more influential on the Continent
+than in Great Britain.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Historians of modern architecture have generally emphasized, and rightly, the special
+importance of the advances in metal construction<a id="r358"></a><a href='#f358' class='c025'><sup>[358]</sup></a> that were made in France in the
+later decades of the nineteenth century. The great name of the period is not that of
+an architect but of an engineer, Gustave Eiffel (1832-1923). At the International Exhibition
+of 1855 in Paris and again at the World’s Fair of 1893 in Chicago the vast metal-and-glass
+structures were masked externally by real or imitated masonry façades. Between
+these dates, however, came a series of French exhibition buildings that were increasingly
+bold in scale and frank in design; with the construction of most of them Eiffel
+was directly concerned. Yet his bridge over the Douro at Oporto in Portugal of 1876-7
+quite overshadowed the Galerie des Machines that he and Krantz built for the Paris
+Exhibition of 1867, as his later Pont de Garabit of 1880-4 outclassed the pavilion that
+he designed for the Exhibition of 1878 and that portion of the Bon Marché Department
+Store on which he collaborated in 1876 with the younger Boileau. In the exhibition buildings
+the metalwork was completely exposed and in that of 1878<a id="r359"></a><a href='#f359' class='c025'><sup>[359]</sup></a> a serious attempt was
+made to develop appropriate embellishments, quite as Wyatt had done for Brunel at
+Paddington Station in London twenty-five years earlier. The rather tawdry result helps
+to explain why innovations in architectural design had so little public support in France
+in this period—a period, of course, when the bold innovations of the Impressionists
+were revolutionizing another art in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Beside Eiffel’s gallery, the Anglo-Japanese room<a id="r360"></a><a href='#f360' class='c025'><sup>[360]</sup></a> which Whistler and Godwin showed
+at this same exhibition must have seemed infinitely sophisticated, and even the Late
+Stuart detailing of the cement-brick front of Shaw’s Jury House most agreeably urbane.
+Such things might well have turned the attention of foreign architects towards England
+earlier than was generally the case. Sédille, one of the less tradition-bound French professionals
+of this period, did visit England in the eighties, publishing his book on current
+English architecture, which has just been mentioned, ten years before Muthesius’s. His
+selections, however, were not very discriminating, nor is there evidence that he profited
+much from what he saw. The Printemps department store of 1881-9, designed of course
+well before his trip, certainly shows no English influence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For the Paris Exhibition of 1889<a id="r361"></a><a href='#f361' class='c025'><sup>[361]</sup></a> Eiffel early proposed and, in
+1887, was commissioned to build the tremendous all-metal tower<a id="r362"></a><a href='#f362' class='c025'><sup>[362]</sup></a>
+which still dominates Paris (Plate <a href='#pl130a'>130A</a>). As has been noted, this
+984-foot edifice was, down to the erection of the Empire State
+Building in New York by Shreve, Lamb &amp; Harmon more than forty years
+later, the tallest structure in the world. The Eiffel Tower, which
+appropriately carries its designer’s name, is no more a building in
+the ordinary sense than are his great bridges,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>however. Although scraping so much higher skies than did Holabird &amp; Roche’s Tacoma
+Building in Chicago, which was erected in precisely the same years, the Paris tower was
+far less significant either technically or functionally. Except the painter Seurat, most contemporaries
+disliked it, considering it a monstrous blemish on the Parisian skyline; today
+of course, it is rightly deemed a nineteenth-century masterpiece, but a masterpiece of
+engineering rather than of architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As with Eiffel’s pavilion at the Exhibition of 1878, there is considerable ambiguity in
+the design of the Eiffel Tower. Seen from a distance its four legs have much of the
+vigorous spring of his bridges and the tapered shaft of criss-crossed metalwork seems—but
+in fact is not—an almost inevitable expression of large-scale construction in metal.
+Seen from nearer to, however, the arbitrarily arched forms that link the legs are very
+conspicuous and also the coarse ornamentation of curvilinear strapwork—recalling a
+little Wyatt’s at Paddington Station of nearly forty years before, but much less just in
+scale—with which the basic forms are bedecked. The close similarity of this mixture of
+frank construction and applied decoration to the Art Nouveau approach to the design
+of metal structures will shortly become evident. Over-impressed, perhaps, by the more
+functional engineering feat of construction at the 1889 Exhibition provided by the
+wide-spanned metal-and-glass Palais des Machines of the engineers Contamin (1840-93),
+Pierron, and Charton—in which the contribution of the associated architect C.-L.-F.
+Dutert (1845-1906) was relatively unimportant—certain later critics have preferred
+that structure to the Eiffel Tower. Yet it is the tower which clearly has more of the
+magnificence of Eiffel’s bridges despite its irrelevant and (from a distance) almost invisible
+ornamentation. The tower, moreover, is premonitory of the Art Nouveau; the
+Galerie des Machines rather of later modern architecture (see Chapters <a href='#ch20'>20</a> and <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One other line of innovation in France in these decades deserves mention. In 1871
+Jules Saulnier built a factory for Chocolat Menier near Paris at Noisiel, S.-et-M., with an
+exposed metal skeleton. The iron frame consists of diagonally set members rather similar
+to the late medieval timber-framing of France, and the infilling of the panels is of
+varicoloured bricks and tiles. This structure attracted the attention of Viollet-le-Duc,
+who saw in it a realization of certain of his theoretical ambitions for nineteenth-century
+architecture. He not only mentioned it very favourably in the second volume of his
+<i>Entretiens</i>, which appeared in 1872, but in several illustrations suggested similar and
+variant combinations of iron and masonry. In a colour plate, for example, he showed a
+striking urban façade with its visible iron framework filled with brilliantly coloured
+glazed tiles. By the nineties quite a few buildings in France had exploited very successfully
+this structural system;<a id="r363"></a><a href='#f363' class='c025'><sup>[363]</sup></a> it is perhaps more important, however, that Viollet-le-Duc’s
+text and illustrations made the idea familiar internationally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When one learns that Horta or Gaudí or various Americans ‘read Viollet-le-Duc’ in
+the seventies and eighties one must assume that the <i>Entretiens</i>, of which the first volume
+appeared in 1863, is meant—and perhaps even more specifically the second volume of
+1872 with its accompanying set of plates. These last could be ‘read’ by architects to particularly
+good purpose. The <i>Entretiens</i> were available to most Europeans in the original
+language and to the English and the Americans in translation.<a id="r364"></a><a href='#f364' class='c025'><sup>[364]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>The characteristic employment of metal by Art Nouveau architects in the nineties and
+the first decade of this century undoubtedly owed a great deal both to the inspiration of
+Eiffel’s large engineering structures, culminating in his tower of 1887-9, and to the vigorous
+critical support of Saulnier’s ideas which Viollet-le-Duc provided, not to speak of
+the projects of his own that he published in 1872. The knot is tied tighter—although with
+a different sort of structural development—when one notes that de Baudot, of all French
+architects most particularly the disciple and heir of Viollet-le-Duc as well as a former
+pupil of Henri Labrouste, was the first to exploit ferro-concrete architecturally and not
+merely technically (see Chapter <a href='#ch18'>18</a>). Moreover, he employed as his contractor to construct
+his epoch-making concrete church of St Jean de Montmartre in Paris of the
+nineties (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>), Contamin, one of the engineers responsible for the Galerie des
+Machines at the Exhibition of 1889. But the European Art Nouveau was even less a
+matter of structural innovation, pure and simple, than Sullivan’s contemporary skyscrapers
+in America (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This brief and curious episode in the history of art,<a id="r365"></a><a href='#f365' class='c025'><sup>[365]</sup></a> starting in the early nineties and
+subsiding little more than a decade later, has always been called in English by a French
+name, perhaps because it never became acclimatized in England but was always considered
+a dubious import from Belgium and France. Despite the diffidence of the English—which
+Americans fully shared—the Art Nouveau was an international mode. It was
+as frequently called in France by the English name ‘Modern Style’, while to the Germans
+it was ‘Jugendstil’ and to the Italians ‘stile Liberty’. The German term comes
+from the magazine <i>Jugend</i>, whose illustrations and typography were fairly consistently
+in the new mode; the Italian from Liberty’s, the shop in London whose orientalizing
+fabrics became widely popular at this time (but with overtones from the obvious pun
+involved). In Italian it is also, and much more descriptively, the ‘stile floreale’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Art Nouveau is not primarily an architectural mode. Many of the finest and
+boldest of the large edifices built between 1890 and 1910, however, beginning with
+Sullivan’s skyscrapers, are certainly related to its ethos; and the Art Nouveau leaders
+produced quite a few buildings of real distinction that can be defined by no other term.
+Like the Rococo of the early and mid eighteenth century—which the Art Nouveau
+sometimes closely resembled and to whose revived forms it was often vulgarly assimilated—it
+was most successful as a mode of interior decoration. Generally linear rather
+than plastic,<a id="r366"></a><a href='#f366' class='c025'><sup>[366]</sup></a> the Art Nouveau was also very closely associated with the graphic arts;
+indeed they provide many of the most characteristic examples, as well as the earliest
+items that can be considered possible prototypes.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>How far back the ultimate sources of the Art Nouveau should be sought, and precisely
+where, continues to be a subject of active research. In the graphic arts there are certainly
+significant similarities to be noted in William Blake’s<a id="r367"></a><a href='#f367' class='c025'><sup>[367]</sup></a> way of designing book
+pages. Through the Pre-Raphaelites, moreover, a line of descent from Blake can be
+traced down to the eighties and nineties when, indeed, his characteristic pages were
+sometimes reproduced in facsimile. But oriental,<a id="r368"></a><a href='#f368' class='c025'><sup>[368]</sup></a> specifically Japanese, influence certainly
+played some part also in the gestation of the mode. There is early evidence of that
+influence on western architecture in the decorative work of Godwin and Nesfield in
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>England, beginning already in the sixties, as also in the painting of the Impressionists in
+France (see Chapters <a href='#ch10'>10</a> and <a href='#ch12'>12</a>). But the earliest designs that can be readily mistaken
+for Continental work of 1900 are certainly by the English architect-decorator Mackmurdo
+and date from just after 1880. Many of the textile and wallpaper patterns that
+Mackmurdo, Heywood Sumner (1853-1940), and others created for the Century Guild,
+founded in 1882, already have the characteristic semi-naturalistic<a id="r369"></a><a href='#f369' class='c025'><sup>[369]</sup></a> forms, swaying lines,
+and asymmetrical organization of the mature decorative mode of the nineties. Even
+more striking is the design of Mackmurdo’s title-page of 1883 for his book on the London
+churches of Sir Christopher Wren<a id="r370"></a><a href='#f370' class='c025'><sup>[370]</sup></a>—a curious conjunction, this, of two opposed
+stylistic developments of the eighties, the one towards the Baroque and the ‘Monumental
+Queen Anne’, the other towards a wholly novel mode of ornamentation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>English products, such as were shown by the Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society from
+its foundation in 1888, soon reached the Continent. Moreover, even before the <i>Studio</i>
+began publication in 1893 Koch’s <i>Academy Architecture</i> (from 1888), which has already
+been mentioned, and (from 1890) his review <i>Innendekoration</i>, as well as less specialized
+English magazines such as (from 1884) Mackmurdo’s <i>Hobby Horse</i> and (from 1891) <i>The
+Yellow Book</i>, with its highly stylized and very curvilinear illustrations by Aubrey Beardsley,
+were eagerly studied all over western Europe. The younger men were reading William
+Morris, too, and responding enthusiastically to his ethical and social demands for a
+reform of the household arts. At the same time the novel styles of the most advanced
+Post-Impressionist painters offered a powerful stimulus to architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This matter of the relationship between advanced painting and advanced architecture
+in the nineteenth century, a relationship destined to be of rather greater importance in
+the early twentieth, deserves some broader comment and recapitulation here. A hundred
+and fifty years before, when Romantic Classicism was being born in Rome,
+painters, sculptors, and architects shared common ideals and worked with a full understanding
+of each other’s problems (see Chapter <a href='#ch01'>1</a>). The backgrounds of David’s bas-relief-like
+early paintings show architecture in the most advanced taste of the day, and
+no more beautiful Romantic Classical furniture was actually produced than that which
+he invented for his Classical scenes and occasionally introduced in his modern portraits.
+The Classical sculptor Thorwaldsen at the Glyptothek in Munich and later at the Thorwaldsen
+Museum in Copenhagen collaborated closely with the architects Klenze and
+Bindesbøll. Schinkel was himself a Romantic painter of some distinction before he
+matured as a Romantic Classical architect, and he collaborated later on the mural for
+the front of the Altes Museum with the painter Peter Cornelius, as did Klenze on the
+decorations of the Glyptothek in Munich.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the gradual decline of Romantic Classicism architects and painters had more
+difficulty in developing parallel programmes; and the results of collaboration between
+them in the decoration of buildings were rarely as happy as the backgrounds the architects
+sometimes supplied to the painters. Ingres’s stained-glass windows of the forties in
+the Chapelle d’Orléans at Dreux and the Chapelle Saint-Ferdinand at Neuilly have been
+mentioned. More successful are the murals by Delacroix in Joly’s library at the Chambre
+des Deputés in Paris; but there is hardly that real visual harmony between picture
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>and setting that the previous period had often achieved. However, the rising interest in
+architectural polychromy and the extension of the range of acceptable stylistic models
+to include the Early Renaissance and even the Middle Ages were both encouraged
+by the turn that the art of painting was beginning to take on the Continent around
+1815. Hübsch, for example, was a sort of Nazarener among architects. Later Ingres was
+a close friend of Hittorff, even though he never collaborated with him to any good purpose
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>), much less with Viollet-le-Duc, with whom he was also on good
+terms. The degree of stylization that Early Christian, Romanesque, or Gothic architectural
+modes properly demanded was not yet acceptable in figural art. Indeed, the
+rather <i>quattrocento</i> early pictures of Ingres were much too ‘Gothic’ for most of his contemporaries
+and are generally less esteemed than his more Classical work even today.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Above all, the ever-rising importance of landscape in the painting of all countries was
+necessarily without real parallels in architecture, except in so far as the increasing desire
+to open up houses towards the circumambient view reflects a similar preoccupation with
+the natural scene. As to Realism, the principal artistic movement of the mid century in
+French art, that could only be echoed in architectural theory. Impressionism may seem
+even more difficult to relate to architecture.<a id="r371"></a><a href='#f371' class='c025'><sup>[371]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In England in the fifties, however, a loose alliance did exist between the new Pre-Raphaelite
+painters and some of the leading High Victorian Gothic architects, both
+supported for a time by the critic Ruskin. In the sixties and seventies Morris on the one
+hand, developing as a decorator out of the Pre-Raphaelite <i>milieu</i> of Rossetti and Ford
+Madox Brown, and Whistler on the other hand, chiefly nurtured in the advanced
+artistic world of Paris but also influenced in England by Rossetti, collaborated closely
+with architects—Morris with Webb and with Bodley, Whistler with Godwin. As has
+been noted, the strikingly novel results of the latter collaboration were displayed in
+Paris in their Anglo-Japanese room at the Exhibition of 1878. Europeans became generally
+aware of Morris’s decorative work only somewhat later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In France in these decades fewer painters than in England commissioned talented individualists
+of the order of Shaw or Webb or Godwin to build their houses.<a id="r372"></a><a href='#f372' class='c025'><sup>[372]</sup></a> If they
+were Realists or Impressionists they could not have afforded to do so; if they were prosperous
+Academicians they would not have wished to. Even in England, Millais, after he
+became really successful, preferred to build a dull house in South Kensington of quite
+conventional character rather than to employ Shaw or Webb or Godwin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the eighties the most advanced European painters, not merely those of France but
+more generally, turned away from Realism and even from Impressionism in order to
+concern themselves more with pattern or with expression. The two French leaders of
+this reaction whose art seems to posterity most architectonic, Cézanne and Seurat, did
+not affect architecture or design at this time at all. Even Van Gogh and Gauguin, whose
+styles have a more decorative inflection, were less influential than such almost forgotten
+painters as the Dutch Toorop and the Belgian Khnopff, the better-known Belgian Ensor,
+or the Swiss Hodler and the Norwegian Munch, not to speak of the English Beardsley.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The general admiration in <i>avant-garde</i> circles for the work of these artists—with which
+went paradoxically a continuing and even growing estimation of the anti-architectonic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>pictures of the Impressionists and Neo-Impressionists both French and native—ran
+parallel everywhere with the rapid rise and spread of the Art Nouveau. In some sense,
+indeed, the Art Nouveau may be considered the equivalent as a mode of design of what
+is somewhat ambiguously called Impressionism in music—the work of Debussy, Delius,
+etc. Some of the chief critical supporters of the new painters in the nineties such as Julius
+Meier-Graefe were also active proponents of the Art Nouveau. Yet advanced painting,
+in fact, provided little more than a sympathetic atmosphere for the birth of the Art Nouveau,
+somewhat as the young painters and critics of the third quarter of the eighteenth
+century had done in Rome for the gestation of Romantic Classicism in architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Why the Art Nouveau should have been initiated full-fledged by Victor Horta
+(1861-1947)<a id="r373"></a><a href='#f373' class='c025'><sup>[373]</sup></a> in Brussels in 1892 remains a mystery. The rather similar stylistic crystallization
+in Sullivan’s architectural ornament, henceforth almost equally organic and
+sinuous in character, had begun several years earlier even before the interiors of the
+Auditorium were designed in 1887-8. These will hardly have been known in Belgium,
+for few foreigners were aware of Sullivan’s work at all until they came to Chicago
+to visit the World’s Fair in 1893. Illustrations of the remarkable ironwork on Gaudí’s
+Palau Güell in Barcelona are not likely to have reached Brussels either, though
+several of its interiors were published in <i>The Decorator and Furnisher</i> in New York in
+1892. In any case Gaudí’s ultimate style was only beginning to take form in the early
+nineties. A certain amount of quite original decoration was being done in New York
+from the beginning of the eighties by Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), but it is unlikely
+that it was known abroad. Tiffany’s ‘Favrile’ glass came a good deal later and is
+precisely contemporaneous with the Art Nouveau,<a id="r374"></a><a href='#f374' class='c025'><sup>[374]</sup></a> of which it continued to be for a
+decade and more one of the most internationally distinguished products.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is generally assumed that Horta knew the rather similar glass designed earlier by
+Émile Gallé (1846-1904) in France and that he already had some familiarity with the
+work of such painters as Ensor, Khnopff, and Toorop, if not with that of Hodler,
+Munch, or Beardsley. Yet such familiarity would hardly by itself have counter-balanced
+the academic training he received from his master and later employer Balat (see
+Chapter 9). This explains, however, the very Classical character of his Temple des Passions
+Humaines, erected in 1884 in the Parc du Cinquantenaire in Brussels. Horta did
+no building on his own between 1885 and 1892. Presumably, however, it was knowledge
+of the theories and the projects of Viollet-le-Duc acquired in those years that
+encouraged him to make frank and expressive use of iron in association with masonry
+when he really began to practise. Yet the influence of Viollet-le-Duc hardly
+provides an explanation for the specific character of his innovations in ornament or the
+consistency of style that he achieved almost at once.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Against such rather negative assumptions, a more positive one may be set. In the
+Tassel house in Brussels, completed in 1893, Horta’s first mature work, he introduced an
+English<a id="r375"></a><a href='#f375' class='c025'><sup>[375]</sup></a> wallpaper between the exposed metal structural elements of the dining-room
+walls. It is highly likely, therefore, that the new English decorative products were
+already known to him the previous year<a id="r376"></a><a href='#f376' class='c025'><sup>[376]</sup></a> when he designed and began this epoch-making
+house.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>The Tassel house at 6 Rue Paul-Émile Janson, just off the Avenue Louise, initiated a
+new architectural mode as definitely as one modest terrace-house could possibly do.
+How long before 1892, when the Tassel house was begun, Horta may have been designing
+on paper in this way does not seem to be known. When one considers how important
+the innumerable projects of the second half of the eighteenth century are to our
+understanding of the architectural revolution that established Romantic Classicism as
+the successor to the Baroque, the absence of such clues concerning the gestation of the
+Art Nouveau is most exasperating; but considerable research by students of the period
+has so far brought little that seems relevant to light.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In plan there are no very great novelties in the Tassel house, although the interior partitions
+of the principal floor are bent to give varying shapes and sizes to symmetrically
+disposed spaces that open rather freely into one another. The major innovation lay in
+the frank expression of metal structure and in the characteristic decoration, particularly
+that of the stair-hall (Plate <a href='#pl130b'>130<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). There at the foot of the stair an iron column rises free
+and svelte out of which iron bands branch at the top, like vines from the trunk of a
+sapling, to form brackets under the curved openwork beams of iron above. Other
+lighter and less structural bands interlace to form the stair-rail. The organic, swaying,
+and interweaving lines of the metalwork, both structural and decorative, were originally
+rather boldly echoed in purely ornamental curvilinear decoration painted on the walls,
+and they are still so echoed in the patterns of the extant floor mosaic.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These patterns in the stair-hall are each unique, not repeated like those on the English
+chintzes and wallpapers they so much resemble. The lines, whether moving freely
+in space like those of the ironwork, painted on the curved wall, or inlaid in the flat floor
+plane, all form part of complex organic motifs. The result is therefore more comparable
+to Mackmurdo’s title-page of 1883, or even to some of the repoussé brasswork on his
+furniture. (Like the very few buildings Mackmurdo designed, this furniture is quite
+rectilinear otherwise, it might be noted.) During the brief life of the Art Nouveau hardly
+even Horta himself, much less those who followed in his footsteps, achieved an ensemble
+more exemplary than this stair-hall. It is truly a work of interior architecture, not
+merely a matter of applied decoration as is most of the ornament used in association
+with the English wallpaper in the dining-room.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The façade of the house is much less striking than the interiors. However, the linear
+curves of the internal structural elements are reflected plastically, so to say, in the bowing
+forward of the entire central window area. This is so extensive as to approach, but not to
+equal, English window-walls of the preceding decades. In the upper storeys the lights in
+this broad bay-window are subdivided only by iron colonnette-mullions and topped
+with exposed iron beams. There is no archaeological reminiscence of any past style here;
+yet it must have been from local stucco-work of the Rococo period that Horta drew the
+inspiration for his carved stone detail. It certainly does not derive either from England or
+from Viollet-le-Duc. Horta was, and continued to be, much less happy in devising such
+plastic ornament than in his metalwork; but he felt obliged to apply it here and there on
+capitals, cornices, brackets, and so forth, just as conventional architects of the time used
+the common coin of the Renaissance or Gothic vocabularies.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>The Tassel façade may be almost unnoticeable today unless one looks carefully for its
+exposed metalwork and its rather original detailing, but it evidently had an almost instant
+appeal in the Brussels of the nineties. The somewhat similar Frison house at 37 Rue
+Lebeau was built in 1893-4, and in 1895 three more houses were begun, of which the
+finest is the much larger Hôtel Solvay at 224 Avenue Louise.<a id="r377"></a><a href='#f377' class='c025'><sup>[377]</sup></a> This house was built, together
+with a laboratory started a year later, over a period of several years for the famous
+chemist Ernest Solvay. It remains the most complete of Horta’s domestic commissions,
+since it retains all the original furniture designed by the architect, though now a <i>maison
+de couture</i>. The broad façade is much more plastic than that of the Tassel house with
+the walls curving forward in the first and second storeys to enframe two tall flanking
+bays subdivided by metal colonnettes and transoms (Plate <a href='#pl131a'>131<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The ironwork of the
+balconies is especially rich and characteristic. In the interiors the exposed metal structure
+and various elaborate incidental features, such as the lighting fixtures, participate fully in
+the general pattern of organic curvature. Although plant-like in feeling, Horta’s metalwork
+is quite as abstract as Gaudí’s grilles in the entrance arches of the
+Palau Güell (Plate <a href='#pl096b'>96<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) and often achieves a comparable
+distinction considered as craftsmanship.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The house of Baron Van Eetvelde of 1895 at 4 Avenue Palmerston—the extension to
+the left numbered 2 is considerably later—has a quite different exterior from the Solvay
+house. The front has an almost Sullivanian range of arched bays consisting entirely of
+exposed metalwork. Inside, the salon is even more of a masterpiece than the stair-hall of
+the Tassel house. A circle of iron columns, curving up into elliptical arches, supports a
+low dome of glass across which long leaf-like bands of transparent colour continue the
+sinuous structural curves below. In a happy floral metaphor the lighting fixtures bend
+and droop, each electric bulb shaded by a coloured glass bell of over-blown tulip shape.
+Not since Nicholas Pineau developed the <i>pittoresque</i> version of the Rococo in the second
+quarter of the eighteenth century had such elegant consistency and originality been seen
+in the decorative exploitation of plant-like elements.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Horta’s other fine houses in Brussels range in date down to the Wiener house of 1919
+in the Avenue de l’Astronomie. After the very elegant and restrained Hallet house of
+1906 at 346 Avenue Louise they became so dry and so formal that the term Art Nouveau
+hardly applies to them, however. There are two much earlier examples at 23-25 Rue
+Américaine, built in 1898, which are of special interest because Horta occupied them
+himself. The virtuoso elaboration of the interwoven structural and decorative ironwork
+of the oriel on the one to the left and the continuous ribbon-window set behind iron
+mullions in the top storey of the other are among the most striking and original external
+features he ever designed. These years at the very end of the century undoubtedly represent
+the peak of his career. His most advanced domestic planning was to be seen in the
+Aubecq house of 1900 at 520 Avenue Louise, demolished in 1950 (Figure <a href='#i290'>34</a>). There the
+interflow of space between the interlocking octagonal reception rooms of the ground
+storey comes very close to that found in certain early houses by Wright
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch15'>15</a> and <a href='#ch19'>19</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Certainly Horta’s most important single work is the Maison du Peuple of 1896-9.
+This was built for the city authorities of Brussels on a curiously-shaped site of which
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>Horta took the fullest advantage. Extending around a segment of a circular <i>place</i> and
+part way along two radial streets, the façade forms a continuous but irregular series of
+curves, mostly concave, but with the main entrance placed in one of the shorter convex
+portions. The greater part of the exterior wall consists of a visible skeleton of iron with
+solid masonry sections defining the ends and the entrance bay. The vertical stanchions
+are not curved, but many of the horizontal members are slightly arched. Decorative
+metal elements at some of the intersections attempt, not altogether successfully, to give
+to the structural grid the over-all organic quality so happily achieved in the Van Eetvelde
+entrance hall. As in his houses, Horta had difficulty in assimilating the carved detail of
+the stonework, here associated with wall panels of brick, to the metalwork; where the
+two come close together, as in the entrance arch of mixed materials, the result is very
+awkward indeed.</p>
+
+<div id='i290'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i290.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 34. Victor Horta: Brussels, Aubecq house, 1900, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Comparison with Sullivan’s work of these years is inevitable—there is really nothing
+else of the precise period with which the Maison du Peuple can properly be compared.
+With Sullivan the main structural members of metal are always covered with terracotta
+and the visible metalwork is almost entirely decorative. Yet there is considerable similarity
+in the way Sullivan handled the metal mullions at the entrances of the Carson,
+Pirie &amp; Scott Store, mullions which rise into and interweave with the ornament
+above, to Horta’s attempt to merge the structural and the decorative in his framework
+of visible metal elements here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>His greatest success at this was certainly in the auditorium at the top of the Maison du
+Peuple. In this the openwork iron beams that support the roof, forming a sort of
+hammerbeam system with the side galleries, have graceful and expressive but essentially
+structural curves (Plate <a href='#pl132b'>132<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). To these the decorative railings of the galleries provide a
+delicate and harmonious counterpoint in their intricately plant-like detailing. Around
+the structural frame the auditorium is enclosed only by glass or by very thin panels held
+in metal frames, rather like the ‘curtain-walls’ of the mid twentieth century; thus there
+is in this permanent edifice a good deal of the volumetric lightness previously associated
+with temporary exhibition buildings only.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Among Horta’s commercial buildings in various Belgian cities the most conspicuous
+was the Innovation Department Store of 1901 in the Rue Neuve in Brussels (Plate <a href='#pl131b'>131<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>The front, almost entirely of metal and glass though set in a granite frame, was a remarkable
+example of Art Nouveau decorative design at fully architectural scale. The Innovation
+completely overshadowed the equally bold but extremely coarse and clumsy Old
+England Department Store just off the Place Royale in Brussels, also almost entirely of
+iron and glass, that was built by Paul Saintenoy (1832-92) two years earlier. In the
+Gros Waucquez Building in the Rue de Sable of 1903-5 and the Wolfers Building of
+1906 in the Rue d’Arenberg, as in his houses of those later years, Horta’s treatment is
+much more restrained than in the department store. Stone piers subdivide their façades,
+curves are fewer and more structural, and there is much less ornament and almost no
+exposed iron.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is a historical paradox that Horta’s architectural career should have continued long
+after the Art Nouveau was forgotten, bringing him in the end such public esteem and
+material success as few other innovators of his generation ever knew. Yet his later work,
+beginning with his Palais des Beaux-Arts in Brussels, designed in 1914 just before the
+First World War but begun only in 1923, and continuing down to his Central Station
+there, begun in 1938 and only lately completed, is of purely local significance. What
+brought him a peerage and a street named after him—that at the side of his Palais des
+Beaux-Arts—was not his early work of the Art Nouveau years, standing with Sullivan’s
+skyscrapers like a landmark at the beginning of modern architecture, but this later
+official work which is almost totally without intrinsic interest and, in the case of the
+station, actually rather monstrous. The contrast with Sullivan’s barren later years after
+1904 is very striking.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the poetic justice that there might be in ignoring a Belgian who long
+falsely claimed the credit for the invention of the Art Nouveau, one cannot turn to
+other countries without mentioning the name of Henri Van de Velde (1863-1957).<a id="r378"></a><a href='#f378' class='c025'><sup>[378]</sup></a>
+In 1892, when Horta designed the Tassel house, Van de Velde had not even begun to
+practise architecture. His first work, which is his own house of 1895-6 at Uccle near
+Brussels, though still rather conventional externally in a simple, almost peasant way
+perhaps influenced by Voysey, included furniture more functional than Horta’s, if
+much less elegant and imaginative. He also brought to Brussels—and later to Paris,
+Berlin, and Weimar—an interpretation of Ruskin’s and Morris’s sociological approach
+to the arts that had a wide and growing influence, for he pursued his mature career as
+decorator, architect, and educator largely outside Belgium<a id="r379"></a><a href='#f379' class='c025'><sup>[379]</sup></a>
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch17'>17</a> and <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>
+  <h2 id='ch17' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 17</span><br />THE SPREAD OF THE ART NOUVEAU: THE WORK OF C. R. MACKINTOSH AND ANTONI GAUDÍ</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> initiation of the Art Nouveau by Horta in 1892 was sudden and its spread extremely
+rapid. Almost concurrently forms very similar to those he had invented began
+to appear in other European countries. Rarely has a new idea in the visual arts been taken
+up internationally with so little lag. Advanced artistic circles at this time were evidently
+thoroughly prepared to accept major innovations and new periodicals, starting up
+almost one a year, provided vehicles for their transmission: <i>Pan</i> in 1895, for example,
+<i>Jugend</i> in 1896, <i>Dekorative Kunst</i> in 1897, and <i>Die Kunst</i> in 1899, to mention only German
+magazines. Had the Art Nouveau not already been invented by Horta the year
+before, three works of art dated 1893, Aubrey Beardsley’s ‘Cello Player’, an illustration
+in black and white, Toorop’s picture ‘Three Brides’, and Munch’s ‘The Cry’, first a
+painting but widely available as a colour-lithograph the following year, might well have
+supplied the impetus for other designers to do so; doubtless such inspiration did encourage
+rivalry rather than direct imitation of Horta. In Germany a Munch exhibition
+in Berlin in 1892 and a Toorop exhibition in Munich in 1893 called attention to the long
+waving curves and the general linearity of style of these artists. In 1893, moreover, the
+<i>Studio</i> began to bring to designers and architects everywhere well-chosen illustrations of
+current English decorative work.</p>
+<p class='c010'>England itself was least responsive to the new Continental mode. It is, indeed, improper
+to call the Bishopsgate Institute in Bishopsgate in the City of London, built in
+1893-4 by C. Harrison Townsend (1850-1928), Art Nouveau. Yet, despite its evident
+dependence on Webb, the way in which Townsend took the characteristically stylized
+but basically naturalistic patterns of contemporary English wallpapers and chintzes and
+used them in relief at architectural scale is as drastic an innovation as are the bits and
+pieces of more abstract stone carving that Horta used on his Brussels houses of these
+years. Townsend remained a ‘fellow-traveller’ rather than a member of the international
+Art Nouveau group for a decade. For example, the façade of his Whitechapel
+Art Gallery in the Whitechapel Road in the East End of London, designed in 1895 and
+built in 1897-9, is an improved version of that of the Bishopsgate
+Institute (Plate <a href='#pl134b'>134<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The broad and almost Richardsonian
+arch is placed off centre, the ornament is freer and bolder, and the
+few windows are organized in a continuous band below the plain wall of
+the upper portion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Less successful, though perhaps more advanced, is Townsend’s Horniman Museum of
+1900-1, a free-standing edifice in London Road, Forest Hill, south of London. This has
+less external ornamentation, except for the façade mosaic by Anning Bell, but there is a
+very plastically conceived tower with rounded corners placed at one side of the front
+façade. His church of St Mary the Virgin, consecrated in 1904, at Great Warley in Essex,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>is very simple, indeed rather Voysey-like as regards the buttressed and roughcast exterior.
+However, the elaborate decorations inside by Sir William Reynolds-Stephens
+(1862-1943) offer the most virtuoso example of Art Nouveau in England—at least they
+are about as close to the Continental mode as the English came.<a id="r380"></a><a href='#f380' class='c025'><sup>[380]</sup></a> No other English architect
+came nearer the Art Nouveau than Townsend; in quality, moreover, his work
+excels most of that done on the Continent by the various imitators and emulators of
+Horta, even if it lacks the humble integrity of Voysey’s best houses of these years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The earliest and, later, the most versatile Art Nouveau architect of France<a id="r381"></a><a href='#f381' class='c025'><sup>[381]</sup></a> was
+Hector Guimard (1867-1942). But his first work of consequence, the complex block of
+flats in Paris called the Castel Béranger<a id="r382"></a><a href='#f382' class='c025'><sup>[382]</sup></a> at 16 Rue La Fontaine, which was completed
+after several years of construction in 1897, still represents a very ambiguous exploitation
+of the new ideas coming from Brussels. It must be remembered, however, that the
+original design almost certainly antedates by a year or two all other Art Nouveau work
+outside Belgium. Also notable is the fact that the façade of the Castel Béranger was
+premiated by the City of Paris in 1898, since this indicates the rapidity with which the
+new mode won approval in France.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1896, while the Castel Béranger was building, Siegfried Bing, a Hamburg art-dealer
+whose wares included Japanese prints—now even more in demand than at any
+time since their introduction to Europe in the late fifties—and also the new English
+decorative products, decided to open a shop in Paris. Bing’s Maison de l’Art Nouveau
+at 22 Rue de Provence was designed for him by L.-B. Bonnier (1856-1946) in the Belgian
+mode, which thereby acquired its familiar name. This shop was of no great architectural
+interest, however, except that it was the first of the multitude that were produced
+in the next ten or fifteen years. Not only in Paris but in most Continental cities
+large and small, and even in England and in America, where the Art Nouveau otherwise
+hardly penetrated, these shop-fronts can still be noted; one of the finest has even been
+transferred from Paris to the Philadelphia Museum of Art in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Bing also enlisted the services of Van de Velde, still quite immature as a designer compared
+to Horta, but very articulate as a critic. Influenced more intellectually than visually
+by the English, Van de Velde’s personal development as a decorator now proceeded very
+rapidly. The lounge he designed for the Dresden Exhibition of 1897, for example, was
+an accomplished if somewhat heavily scaled example of an Art Nouveau interior and
+much more elaborate than those completed in his house at Uccle the year before.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the time the Maison du Peuple in Brussels opened three years later in 1899 and
+Horta’s early career reached its apex of achievement, the Art Nouveau was already
+a favourite mode with young French designers and generally in rising favour in
+<i>fin de siècle</i> Paris. As a result even established architects were not averse to introducing
+its curves in interior decoration and for the detailing of exposed metal structural elements,
+although most of them had little understanding of its real possibilities. The giant
+stone colonnades of the Grand Palais in Paris, designed in 1897 and built in 1898-9 for
+the Exhibition of 1900, were presumably intended to rival those of the plaster palaces of
+the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893; but behind them the architectural team of H.-A.-A.
+Deglane (1855-1931), L.-A. Louvet (1860-1936), both pupils of Richardson’s master,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>André, and A.-F.-T. Thomas (1847-1907) provided a vast iron-and-glass interior detailed
+in a coarse sort of Art Nouveau way that is quite unrelated to the academic treatment
+of the exterior.<a id="r383"></a><a href='#f383' class='c025'><sup>[383]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The entrance feature, designed by René Binet (1866-1911), and the Pavilion Bleu by
+E.-A.-R. Dulong (1860-?), the principal exhibition restaurant in the Champ de Mars,
+were even more whole-heartedly <i>à la mode</i>. One can hardly regret, however, that these
+gaudy structures, unlike the Grand Palais, were only temporary. A much superior
+example of Art Nouveau decoration, Maxim’s Restaurant in the Rue Royale, remains
+intact as it was redecorated in 1899 by Louis Marney. This is full of period flavour and
+still splendidly maintained, but it has no real existence as interior architecture. Soon the
+Art Nouveau would be vulgarized in dozens of cafés, large and small, all over Europe.
+Of these the Brasserie Universelle in the Avenue de l’Opéra in Paris by Niermans, carried
+out two or three years after Maxim’s and lately demolished, was perhaps the most
+sumptuous; there, however, the new mode was eclectically combined with a lush Neo-Rococo.<a id="r384"></a><a href='#f384' class='c025'><sup>[384]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The architect Charles Plumet (1861-1925), working with the decorator Tony
+Selmersheim (b. 1871), built in 1898 at 67 Avenue Malakoff the first of a series of houses
+in which Art Nouveau decoration was grafted on to a general scheme of design that was
+more or less Late Gothic. This has also been demolished. Such eclecticism, based more
+usually on eighteenth-century models, is characteristic of the rapid Parisian dilution of
+the Art Nouveau and doubtless played a great part in its early descent into the obsolescence
+of the <i>démodé</i>. Yet Auguste Perret (1874-1954), in a large block of flats built in
+1902 at 119 Avenue de Wagram, exploited in masonry a heavier and richer sort of Art
+Nouveau than Plumet’s with considerable success (Plate <a href='#pl134a'>134<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This edifice is in curious
+contrast to the flats of ferro-concrete at 25 bis Rue Franklin, designed by Perret in 1902
+also, with which his career is generally considered to begin. Even the latter, moreover,
+have considerably more Art Nouveau feeling in their panels of faience mosaic than is
+usually recognized (see Chapter <a href='#ch18'>18</a>). The block in the Avenue Wagram is quite typical
+of French production in these years but of much higher than average quality.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most accomplished French Art Nouveau designer remained Guimard, the first to
+take up the mode. His most conspicuous works, however, the Paris Métro entrances of
+1898-1901, lie outside the normal realm of architecture (Plate <a href='#pl137b'>137<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). These are executed
+entirely in metal of the most sinuous and vegetable-like character, and their extreme virtuosity
+is the more surprising in that they consist of metal castings produced in series.
+His no longer extant Humbert de Romans Building of 1902 in the Rue Saint-Didier in
+Paris, on the other hand, illustrated the usual difficulties of Art Nouveau architects when
+working with masonry. The exterior was neither Neo-Rococo nor Neo-Flamboyant
+but curiously crude and gawky in its originality, like his Castel Béranger, with none of
+the Art Nouveau grace that even Plumet sometimes evoked with success, or the rather
+lush ornamentation of Perret’s block of flats in the Avenue Wagram. The auditorium
+inside, however, employed curved structural members even more boldly than Horta had
+done in that of the Maison du Peuple. Here Guimard succeeded in giving a masculine
+vigour to the rather feminine forms of a mode already passing its brief prime.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>As late as 1911, however, Guimard remained faithful to the Art Nouveau in an extensive
+range of contiguous blocks of flats that he built at 17-21 Rue La Fontaine near the
+Castel Béranger. For his own flat there he designed ironwork as boldly abstract as advanced
+mid twentieth-century sculpture in metal, but also as suavely elegant as comparable
+Rococo detail of the eighteenth century. The exteriors, moreover, which are
+entirely of stone, have a great deal of the refinement and restraint of Horta’s Hallet
+house of 1906 in Brussels. They are, however, more plastically treated with boldly
+moulded bay windows and attic storeys. Except for Perret’s, few Parisian blocks of flats
+of the period rival these in interest or in quality of design and execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Three Paris department stores of the early years of the century continued to use the
+metal-and-glass interior structure of Boileau and Eiffel’s Bon Marché, with notable success.
+In presumable emulation of Horta’s Innovation in Brussels, moreover, the architects
+of two of these extended considerably the external use of exposed metal introduced
+by Sédille at the Printemps in the eighties. These two stores remain, with Guimard’s
+Métro entrances, the most prominent Parisian examples of the Art Nouveau. The main
+branch of the Samaritaine<a id="r385"></a><a href='#f385' class='c025'><sup>[385]</sup></a> in the Rue de la Monnaie near the Pont Neuf was built in
+1905 by C.-R.-F.-M. Jourdain (1847-1935). This has several fine galleried courts inside
+in the tradition of the Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie of the 1830s, but it is even
+more distinguished for the sturdy scale and the straightforward design of the external
+metal frame (Plate <a href='#pl133'>133</a>). The actual structural members are hardly bent at all by the
+exigencies of the mode; but they were characteristically ornamented not only with
+decorative metalwork but also with inset panels of polychrome faience, now painted
+over. On the north front, however, other panels, here of faience mosaic, remain visible;
+these are of even greater delicacy and elegance than Perret’s foliate panels in his block of
+flats of 1902-3 in the Rue Franklin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The contemporary Grand Bazar de la Rue de Rennes, now the Magasins Réunis, at
+134-136 Rue de Rennes by H.-B. Gutton (b. 1874) is generally fussier in design than the
+Samaritaine. Gutton achieved, however, a more completely volumetric expression, emphasizing
+the lightness and the thinness of metal-and-glass construction somewhat as the
+early monuments of the 1840s and 1850s in England had done. New shop-windows below
+and the removal of the open grillework that once rose against the sky have now
+much diminished its effectiveness. Binet’s earlier galleried court of 1900 at the Printemps
+was burned out in 1923, unfortunately. With the lifts rising in the corners and the staircases
+swooping down in great splashing curves, this court was altogether superior to his
+Entrance to the Exhibition of 1900 and even to Frantz Jourdain’s small later courts in the
+Samaritaine. It seemed somehow to epitomize what a great metropolitan department
+store <i>ought</i> to look like somewhat as Garnier’s Opéra epitomizes what later generations
+came to expect of an opera-house. If Prince Danilo supped with the ‘damen’ of Maxim’s,
+we can be sure the ‘Merry Widow’ and the ‘Pink Lady’ did their shopping here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was the Art Nouveau structures at the Exhibition of 1900 which first focused public
+attention on the new mode, occasioning also that rapid Parisian vulgarization which
+brought its early end. At the exhibition, besides the crude but conspicuous things designed
+by Binet and Dulong that have been mentioned, there was the Pavillon Art
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>Nouveau Bing by Georges de Feure (1868-1928), a designer rather than an architect,
+which had rooms by Edward Colonna, back from working for Tiffany in America, and
+others of the best artists and craftsmen employed by Bing; but their exhibits represented
+decoration, not interior architecture properly speaking. However, by 1900 the Art
+Nouveau was not at all the strictly Parisian manifestation that it must have seemed to
+most of those who visited the exhibition. The Germans, notably, had already taken it up
+with great enthusiasm, beginning about 1897.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Studio Elvira of 1897-8 in Munich by August Endell (1871-1925) had a plain
+stucco façade cut by a few strategically placed windows of varied shape; but this façade
+was splashed across the centre with a very large abstract relief of orientalizing character
+resembling something half-way between a dragon and a cloud. Endell’s studio, if not the
+first manifestation of the Art Nouveau in Germany, was certainly the most striking;
+moreover, it followed immediately upon the showing of Van de Velde’s Lounge at the
+Dresden Exhibition of 1897. Already, however, in that portion of the Wertheim Department
+Store in Berlin in the Leipzigerstrasse which was begun in 1896, Alfred Messel
+(1853-1909) had used a great deal of exposed metal and glass and even perhaps modified
+the detail a bit towards the Art Nouveau. This was five years before Horta designed
+the Innovation Department Store in Brussels and ten years earlier than Jourdain’s Samaritaine
+in Paris. Messel made the spacing of his heavily moulded masonry piers quite wide
+and opened up completely the bays between. The result was at least as close to Sullivan’s
+Gage Building of 1898-9 as to the Paris department stores of a decade later. In those
+portions of this department store that Messel added in 1900-4, however, the façades,
+although highly stylized, were of rather Late Gothic character and certainly quite remote
+from the Art Nouveau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1899 Van de Velde moved from Paris to Berlin. There he designed the Hohenzollern
+Kunstgewerbehaus, a shop parallel to Bing’s Maison de l’Art Nouveau in Paris in
+its interests and its activities. In the next year he carried out the Haby Barber Shop and
+the Havana Cigar Store, two of the most extravagant of all Art Nouveau shop interiors.
+With the opening of the new century, however, in his full-scale architecture Van de
+Velde moved almost as rapidly away from the Art Nouveau as did Messel, although in
+a different direction (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>). By this time strong counter-influences were reaching
+Germany from Glasgow and Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although not disdaining the Art Nouveau as completely as did the English and the
+Americans, the Austrians showed little of the enthusiasm of the French and the
+Germans. There is in Vienna one block of flats<a id="r386"></a><a href='#f386' class='c025'><sup>[386]</sup></a> of about 1900 so completely Art
+Nouveau that it might well have been designed by Horta himself. But the leading Austrian
+architects, old and young, reflected the new Belgian mode only with considerable
+diffidence and restraint. Otto Wagner (1841-1918), long a well-established academic
+architect and indeed Professor of Architecture at the Akademie, introduced more and
+more Art Nouveau detail in the Stadtbahn stations that he built over the years 1894-1901,
+most notably in the one at the Karlsplatz with its curved metal frame and inset
+floral panels. However, even this seems tentative and hardly rivals in interest Guimard’s
+contemporary Métro stations in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>Wagner’s so-called Majolika Haus, a block of flats at 40 Linke Wienzeile designed
+about 1898, is far more distinguished and original (Plate <a href='#pl138a'>138<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Although the ironwork
+of the balconies is here and there curvilinear in detail and the faience plaques that completely
+cover the wall are decorated with great swooping patterns of highly colourful
+flowers, the architectonic elements of the façade are nevertheless very crisp, flat, and
+rectangular. That Vienna would very shortly become the focus of a reaction against the
+Art Nouveau does not seem surprising in the light of this façade. Moreover, on an office
+building erected in the Ungargasse for the firm of Portois &amp; Fix in 1897 by Max Fabiani
+(b. 1865), who had been Wagner’s assistant in 1894-6, the coloured faience slabs which
+sheathe its surface are arranged in a purely geometrical chequer-board pattern; only
+the ironwork has a slightly Art Nouveau flavour. In the late nineties it would be hard
+to say whether Art Nouveau influence was arriving or departing but for the projects
+other Viennese architects were publishing in the review <i>Ver Sacrum</i> started in 1898.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The design of the art gallery built in the Friedrichstrasse in Vienna in 1898-9 for the
+Sezession, a newly founded society of artists in revolt against the Academy, by J. M.
+Olbrich (1867-1908) seems more influenced, however, by the façade of Townsend’s
+Whitechapel Art Gallery—only just begun but already published as a project in the
+<i>Studio</i> in 1895—than by the work of the Belgians or the French, which had affected
+him strongly in the immediately preceding years. The pierced dome of floral metalwork
+alone vies in virtuosity with Horta or Guimard, and the pattern of this is actually
+quite English in character. The bronze doors are by Gustav Klimt, an Austrian Post-Impressionist
+who can be grouped, up to a point, with the Dutch, Belgian, Norwegian,
+and Swiss Post-Impressionists mentioned earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). Olbrich was called
+to Darmstadt in Germany to work at the artists’ colony sponsored there by the Grand
+Duke Ernst Ludwig in 1899 and Darmstadt, like Vienna, soon became a centre of reaction
+against the Art Nouveau under his leadership (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both in Vienna and in Darmstadt the influence of the Scottish designer Mackintosh
+helped most to crystallize an alternative mode. Mackintosh first exhibited a room on
+the Continent at Munich in 1898, the same year that Baillie Scott was called by the
+Grand Duke to decorate an interior in the palace at Darmstadt. In 1900 Mackintosh was
+invited to design a room in the Sezession Exhibition in Vienna. That exhibit undoubtedly
+encouraged Viennese architects, already diffident towards the Art Nouveau,
+to turn very sharply away from it. This Adolf Loos (1870-1933) had already done in
+designing a completely rectilinear shop interior in Vienna in 1898. Loos, Wagner after
+about 1901, and Wagner’s pupil Josef Hoffmann (1870-1956) were all leaders in the
+international reaction against the Art Nouveau (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>). The position of Mackintosh,
+however, is rather hard to state so categorically and must be considered here in
+more detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At home in Scotland Mackintosh’s early decorative work of the mid nineties approached
+Continental Art Nouveau more closely than that of any other Briton, not
+excluding Townsend. Indeed, he was castigated by his compatriots and his English contemporaries
+for participating in so exotic a movement. But Mackintosh also came nearer
+to possessing genius than most of the men of his generation associated with the Art
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>Nouveau, not even excluding Horta. That genius, all the same, was of so ambivalent a
+nature that he could seem for a few years to go along with the general stream of Continental
+fashion and yet, almost at the very same time, provide also a real protest against
+its excesses and its superficialities by the craftsmanlike integrity and the almost ascetic
+restraint of his best work. That protest the Austrians and the Germans were not slow to
+heed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mackintosh made his first mark in Glasgow, which had earlier been the home of the
+highly original ‘Greek’ Thomson (see Chapter <a href='#ch04'>4</a>). By the nineties, moreover, interest in
+contemporary French painting was probably livelier there than it was in London. But
+Glasgow was also as notorious as Chicago, that major focus of architectural achievement
+in the America of the nineties, for its presumed philistinism. Touches of Mackintosh’s
+hand can be distinguished in work of the office of John Honeyman (1831-1914) and his
+partner Keppie, where the young architect was employed at the start of his career, notably
+in the Martyrs’ Public School in Glasgow of 1895. But it was in the decoration of the
+first of a series of Miss Cranston’s ‘tea-rooms’ (<i>scottice</i>, restaurants), the one in Buchanan
+Street remodelled by him in 1897-8, that Mackintosh’s personal talents were first effectively
+exploited. His very earliest decorative compositions and the murals that he and his
+wife provided here, full of heavy and presumably Gaelic symbolism, are parallel to,
+rather than derivative from, the work of the Belgians. They are, in fact, much closer to
+the drawings of Beardsley and the paintings of Toorop and Munch than to the plant-like
+ironwork and almost Neo-Rococo carved stone ornament characteristic of Horta. But
+the same long swinging curves are present, the same linearity, and the same rejection
+of all stylistic influence from the past.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In this same year 1897 Mackintosh’s firm had the good fortune to win the limited
+competition for the Glasgow School of Art with a project that was entirely their young
+designer’s (Plate <a href='#pl132a'>132<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Thus he very soon had an opportunity to prove himself architect
+as well as decorator in a way that only two or three of the Europeans associated with the
+Art Nouveau had been able to do up to this point. The school was built during the next
+two years, just as Horta was finishing his Maison du Peuple in Brussels. The only element
+in the design that relates to the contemporary Art Nouveau of the Continent is the ironwork.
+This is quite incidental to the major architectonic qualities of the building, moreover,
+since it is purely decorative, not structural. It is also extremely restrained in its
+abstract curves, like Fabiani’s of this date in Vienna, and almost totally devoid of vegetable
+or floral reminiscence.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The entrance to the Glasgow Art School seems to derive from Webb, but, like that of
+Townsend’s contemporary art gallery in London, it is rather less traditional in character
+than Webb’s work of this period. The somewhat wilful asymmetry and the plastic
+elaboration of the central part of the façade contrast nevertheless with the straightforwardness
+of the general treatment. There are two ranges of very wide studio windows—reputedly
+derived from a Voysey project—like ‘Chicago windows’ but larger,
+with the reinforced-concrete lintels above them frankly exposed, and little else in the
+whole composition. To later eyes this façade, expressing so clearly the uncomplicated
+plan that it fronts, tends to appear deceptively simple and obvious. But Mackintosh’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>very sensitive proportions and the delicate touches of linear detail provided by the ironwork
+create a design at once very direct and very subtle.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The north end of the building is a tall plain wall of rather small-scaled random ashlar
+broken only by a few strategically spotted windows of various shapes. At once medievally
+dramatic and quite abstract, this façade makes one appreciate all the more the almost
+classical serenity and horizontality of the main front. The Art School is clearly the
+manifesto of an architectural talent of broad range and great assurance—very different
+indeed from that of Voysey.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mackintosh was not alone in Glasgow in these years. A real ‘school’ existed, chiefly in
+the field of decoration, of which George Walton was another notable exponent.<a id="r387"></a><a href='#f387' class='c025'><sup>[387]</sup></a> Like
+Baillie Scott and Ashbee, Walton had some success as an architect in England (see Chapter
+15) as Mackintosh did not, even though he executed a few interiors below the Border.
+But local support was not what it should have been for any of them in either Scotland
+or England. While the Art School was in construction, however, Mackintosh was asked
+in 1898 to provide the already-mentioned room in Munich, first of many that he showed
+at various exhibitions in Germany and Austria. This interior was very different indeed,
+both in the basic rectangularity of the forms and in the delicacy of the membering, from
+Van de Velde’s Art Nouveau Lounge at the Dresden Exhibition of the previous year.
+Thus, even before Van de Velde reached Berlin in 1899, a new line of influence from
+Glasgow into Germany—and soon into Austria also—was established whose general
+tendency was in sharp opposition to the lusher currents flowing from Brussels and Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When Olbrich settled in Darmstadt—just <i>before</i> Mackintosh’s room was shown
+at the Sezession—he also rejected almost completely in the work he carried out at the
+Grand Duke’s Art Colony the still slightly Art Nouveau leanings—in any case already
+closer to the English Townsend than to Horta or Van de Velde—of his newly completed
+Sezession Building (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>). Only his Pavilion of the Plastic Arts of 1901 at
+Darmstadt retained curved elements, and those were structural rather than merely
+decorative. The general rectangularity and the broad horizontal windows of the Ernst
+Ludwig Haus, a block of artists’ studios also completed by Olbrich in 1901, suggest
+comparison with Mackintosh’s Glasgow School of Art. Whether or not, in fact, Olbrich
+knew Mackintosh’s building—he may well have seen drawings if not photographs of it—his
+approach here was certainly very similar.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mackintosh had a good many further opportunities as a decorator, both at home and
+abroad, but only too few commissions to design whole buildings. However, his two
+houses near Glasgow, Windy Hill at Kilmacolm of 1899-1901 and Hill House at Helensburgh
+of 1902-3, are both very notable. Externally they have a certain generic similarity
+to Voysey’s, with their moderate pitched roofs of dark slate, roughcast walls, and plain
+stone trim. His prototypes are not English but Scottish, however—the simple seventeenth-century
+houses of the minor lairds. As one would expect from his interiors, moreover,
+the façades of Mackintosh’s houses are much more carefully and abstractly composed
+than Voysey’s; they even include some simple geometrical features that are not at
+all reminiscent of the past in their design. Like Voysey’s houses, Mackintosh’s show no
+real novelties in planning, although the disposition of the rooms is always straightforward
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>and commodious. The interiors are very original and rather less forced than those he
+was producing for exhibitions on the Continent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mackintosh built very little after 1903 except the Scotland Street School of 1904 in
+Glasgow, the north wing of the Glasgow Art School in 1907-8, and the finest of the
+various tea-rooms that he remodelled for Miss Cranston. This was the Willow Tea
+Room in Sauchiehall Street of 1904, for which he remade the façade as well as reorganizing
+the interior. Internally this tea-room was arranged on several interrelated
+levels subdivided by ingenious screenwork; the exterior was a flat surface of white
+stucco cut by broad horizontal openings, one to a storey. The Scotland Street School is
+equally straightforward in design, the rather plain façade with its ranges of horizontal
+windows being flanked by rounded stair-towers articulated into continuous stone grids
+by mullions and transoms, like the bay windows of Voysey’s Broadleys but much taller.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The north wing of the Glasgow Art School is more remarkable, quite worthy of the
+original front but much more stylized (Plate <a href='#pl135a'>135<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Where the front is strongly horizontal
+the new end façade, like that on the south, is markedly vertical, in part because of
+the way the ground falls off. But the tall oriels, glazed at the outer plane of the stonework,
+are striking features, and the whole composition is tense and dramatic. The
+library inside is a <i>tour de force</i> of spatial subdivision somewhat like the Willow Tea Room.
+Most notable is the way the rectangular stick-work makes manifest the complex articulation
+of the total volume. This sort of handling of interior space was unique up to this
+time as a product of conscious design, although already present inside Paxton’s Crystal
+Palace in the mid nineteenth century. Certainly there is no evidence here of a decline
+in Mackintosh’s creative powers; indeed, quite the contrary. Yet this library proved
+to be his swan song; for want of further commissions Mackintosh’s career all but
+closed at much the same time that the Art Nouveau was coming to an end on the
+Continent. Not since Ledoux perhaps had so great a talent been thus thwarted by
+circumstances, although just what the thwarting circumstances were, other than
+Mackintosh’s own temperament, is not so evident as in the case of the revolutionary
+French architect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Art Nouveau, so extensively propagated by exhibitions, is often thought to have
+terminated with an exhibition, that held at Turin in 1902. This is more than a slight
+exaggeration, as various already mentioned buildings executed as late as 1911 will have
+made evident. Yet after the early years of the century the decline of the Art Nouveau
+was almost universal except in provincial places and in outlying countries such as those
+of Latin America and eastern Europe. At Turin the Belgian section had characteristic
+Art Nouveau interiors by Horta. Mackintosh, wholly detached by now from the Art
+Nouveau, contributed a Rose Boudoir, typically light in colour and delicate in line with
+the predominant verticals and horizontals relieved by little abstract knots, so to say, of
+curvilinear decoration. Raimondo D’Aronco (1857-1932), the Italian architect responsible
+for the principal pavilions, wavered between a rather plastic, somewhat Neo-Baroque,
+version of the Art Nouveau, not unrelated to the seventeenth-century work
+of the great local architect Guarino Guarini, and a crisper mode much influenced by
+Mackintosh and the Viennese.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>D’Aronco’s finest building, however, was not at Turin but the Pavilion of Fine Arts
+that he designed for the Udine Exhibition the next year. Moving sharply away from the
+turgidity of much of his work at the earlier exhibition, he produced for Udine a façade
+that was unified in design, frankly impermanent in its materials, and at once festive in
+spirit and dignified in tone. This was a most distinguished piece of exhibition architecture
+in a period when leading designers gave a great part of their attention to such rather
+ephemeral things—largely, doubtless, because so few opportunities to build permanent
+structures came their way. In Istanbul, D’Aronco built a small mosque in 1903, prominently
+located by the Galata Bridge, and also several blocks of flats that signally fail to
+maintain the promise of his Italian exhibition buildings. The very awkwardly sited
+mosque, raised on top of an existing structure, is as Viennese in character as the Udine
+pavilion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Other Italian architects, however, remained faithful for a few years to the <i>stile floreale</i>,
+their version of the Art Nouveau. In Milan the Casa Castiglione, a <i>palazzo</i> or mansion-like
+block of flats at 47 Corso Venezia built by Giuseppe Sommaruga (1867-1917) in
+1903, is a very large and ponderous example. The detail is extremely bold, inside and
+out, the materials rich, and a very large part of the interior is given up to a monumental
+stair-hall of almost Piranesian spatial complexity. A Milanese hotel at 15 Corso Vittorio
+Emmanuele of 1904-5 by A. Cattaneo and G. Santamaria is of a comparable extravagance.
+Finer perhaps, certainly simpler, is the Casa Tosi of 1910 at 28 Via Senato in Milan by
+Alfredo Campanini (1873-1926).<a id="r388"></a><a href='#f388' class='c025'><sup>[388]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To judge from the rather <i>stile floreale</i> character of some work of this period in Latin
+America, Italians as well as Iberians may well have carried the Art Nouveau there. In
+Cuba and Brazil, especially, memories of Colonial exuberance encouraged a profusion of
+carved or moulded ornament beyond even the excesses of the French around 1900. The
+most prominent example, but not the most characteristic, is the Palacio de Bellas Artes in
+Mexico City begun for President Diaz by Adamo Boari after 1903 and completed in
+1933 by Federico Mariscal; this is ‘Beaux-Arts’—not inappropriately, perhaps—in all
+except its detailing; in the latest portions this reflects the Paris of the Exposition des
+Arts Décoratifs of 1925 rather than the Art Nouveau Paris of 1900.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Spain itself the international current of the Art Nouveau was not very influential
+outside Barcelona. Gaudí, whose earlier work of the seventies and eighties has
+already been described (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>), continued to be as much apart from
+the contemporary Spanish architectural scene as he was from the international Art
+Nouveau. His finest late works, moreover, all but post-date the demise of the Art
+Nouveau in the major European capitals. Nor is there any such close, if ambivalent,
+linkage between Gaudí’s career and the general rise and fall of the mode as in the case of
+Mackintosh. One can only say that his personal style is more closely related to the Art
+Nouveau than to the new stage of modern architecture that was already succeeding it
+by the time he produced his final masterpieces. The premonitory character of his early
+ironwork has been discussed and illustrated already (Plate <a href='#pl096b'>96<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gaudí’s work on the church of the Sagrada Familia<a id="r389"></a><a href='#f389' class='c025'><sup>[389]</sup></a> in Barcelona went on more or
+less continuously from 1884 to 1914 and began again in 1919 after the First World War.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>The most conspicuous portion that has so far been executed, one of the transept façades,
+was designed and largely built in the nineties. Dominating Barcelona with its four extraordinary
+towers—not finally completed until after Gaudí’s death in 1926—this façade,
+begun in 1891, breaks quite sharply with the Neo-Gothic of Villar’s crypt and his own
+chevet. The portals with their steep gables have a generically Gothic <i>ordonnance</i>; but
+the extraordinary profusion of sculpture, mostly executed after 1903, gives a highly
+novel flavour. While conventional enough as regards the figures, this is otherwise either
+naturalistically floral or else meltingly abstract. It resembles the Art Nouveau in many
+minor details, but is generally bolder in scale, more fully three-dimensional, and, in
+places, somewhat nightmarish.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although only about two-thirds as tall as the cluster of towers intended by Gaudí to
+rise over the crossing, the four openwork spires above this façade—with the two in the
+centre taller than those on the sides—reach a wholly disproportionate height in relation
+to the roof that should ultimately cover the still unbuilt transept. At the top they break out
+into fantastically plastic finials whose multi-planar surfaces are covered with a mosaic of
+broken tiling in brilliant colours. The prototypes for these finials are the chimney-pots
+of the Palau Güell, but here their note of free fantasy is raised to monumental scale. The
+inspiration of the towers, so remote in character from anything that the Art Nouveau
+ever produced, came from certain native buildings which Gaudí had seen in Africa:
+these strange primitive<a id="r390"></a><a href='#f390' class='c025'><sup>[390]</sup></a> forms he first exploited in a project of 1892-3 for the Spanish
+Franciscan Mission in Tangier which was never executed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><i>In posse</i> the Sagrada Familia is perhaps the greatest ecclesiastical monument of the last
+hundred years; beside it such a suave late example of monumental Neo-Gothic in
+England as Liverpool Cathedral, begun by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott in 1903, lacks
+both vitality and originality of expression, if not nobility of scale. However, Gaudí’s
+church still remains a fragment, and a very incoherent one at that, even though he
+prepared in 1925, the year before his death, a brilliant new project for the nave. Gaudí
+really stands or falls by the few secular buildings that he was able to carry to completion,
+beginning with the Palau Güell of 1886-9 (Plate <a href='#pl096b'>96<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), and not, as many compatriots
+assume, by the unrealized—perhaps unrealizable—plans for the Sagrada Familia.
+(Construction has gone slowly forward, however, on the other transept for a decade
+now.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gaudí’s next Barcelona mansion after the Palau Güell, that built at 48 Carrer de Casp
+for the heirs of Pedro Mártir Calvet in 1898-1904, is much less impressive. Baroque
+rather than medieval in its antecedents, this is interesting chiefly for the detailing of the
+ironwork; but even that is no more remarkable here than that at the Palau Güell of
+a decade earlier. It is of interest, however, as illustrating the support which Gaudí received
+all along from his fellow citizens, that the Casa Calvet was awarded a prize in
+1901 as the best new façade in Barcelona, quite as Guimard’s Castel Béranger was
+premiated three years earlier in Paris.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A wholly new spirit, quite comparable in its total originality to the Art Nouveau,
+first appears in the work that Gaudí did for Don Eusebio Güell at the Park Güell (now
+the Municipal Park of Barcelona), carried out over the years 1900-14, and in the walls
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>and the gate he built in 1901-2 for the suburban estate of Don Hermenegildo Miralles in
+Las Corts de Sarriá. In the latter all the forms are curved and no stylistic reminiscence
+whatsoever remains, but it is a production of minor importance compared to the
+park. The park is mostly landscaping, but partly architecture in that it includes several
+small buildings and much subsidiary construction. A sort of Neo-Romantic naturalism,
+exceeding in fantasy that of the most exotic landscape gardening of the eighteenth century,
+controls the whole conception. Sinuous and megalomaniac near-Doric colonnades
+of concrete support a sort of flat vault that is of great interest technically;<a id="r391"></a><a href='#f391' class='c025'><sup>[391]</sup></a> yet these colonnades
+also suggest artificial ruins of the eighteenth-century sort raised to giant scale.
+The other porticoes and grottoes, however, recall no architecture of the past. Their
+rubble columns seem rather to emulate slanting tree-trunks, but in fact their profiles were
+worked out statically with the most careful study of the forces involved.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The ranges of curving benches surrounding the great open terrace over the Doric
+hypostyle, although covered with a mosaic of the most heterogeneous bits and pieces of
+broken faience, seem like congelations of the waves of the sea; the roofs of the lodges,
+also tile-covered, toss in the air like cockscombs. A strange biological plasticity, rather
+like that of the small-scale carved detail of Horta’s or Guimard’s buildings very much
+enlarged, turns whole structures into malleable masses as in some Gulliverian dream of
+vegetable or animal elements grown to monumental size. Everything but the ironwork
+is moulded in three dimensions, and even the ironwork tends towards a heavy scale
+more comparable to that of the structural members of metal used in Belgian or French
+work of the day than to the delicacy of Art Nouveau decorative detail.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gaudí’s major secular works belong to the same years as the execution of the park. It
+is hard to believe that the Casa Batlló at 43 Passeig de Gracia in Barcelona, a small block
+of flats, is not a completely new structure but a remodelling carried out in 1905-7. This
+fact perhaps explains the relative flatness of the façade. Yet Gaudí made the lower storeys
+extraordinarily plastic and open, using a bony articulation of curvilinear stone members,
+and the high roof in front that masks the roof terrace is of even more cockscomb-like
+character than those on his park lodges (Plate <a href='#pl136'>136</a>). The upper storeys of the façade
+glitter with a fantastic plaquage of broken coloured glass considerably more subtle in
+tonality than his usual mosaic of faience fragments.<a id="r392"></a><a href='#f392' class='c025'><sup>[392]</sup></a> But architecturally the façade is
+handled more like Horta’s, with most of the windows nearly rectangular even though
+bulging balconettes of metal project at their bases. The effect, as with Horta, is slightly
+Neo-Rococo. But the sort of Rococo which this façade recalls is not circumspect
+French eighteenth-century work but the lusher mode that was exploited in Bavaria
+and Austria—and still more appositely in Portugal and Spain. The entire wall surface
+seems to be in motion, and all its edges waver and wind in a way that even interior
+panelling did rarely in eighteenth-century France. This effect of total motion is even
+more notable in the interiors, which seem to have been hollowed out by the waves of
+the sea.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The rear façade of the Casa Batlló is remarkable for its openness. The wide window-walls
+in the paired flats open on to sinuous balconies extending all the way across.
+Above, there is a simpler plastic cresting than on the front; over this the curious forms
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>of the chimney-pots provide a range of abstract sculptural features covered with polychrome
+tiling, always a favourite terminal theme of Gaudí’s.</p>
+
+<div id='i304'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i304.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 35. Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, 1905-10, plan of typical floor</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Much larger than the Casa Batlló is the edifice built for Roser Segimon de Milá in
+1905-7 at 92 Passeig de Gracia, appropriately known in Barcelona as ‘La Pedrera’ (the
+quarry). Surrounding two more or less circular courts, this large block of flats occupies
+an obtuse corner site, and the entire plan is worked out in curves as well as all the elements
+of the exterior (Figure <a href='#i304'>35</a>). The façade of the Casa Milá is not a thin plane, curling
+like paper at the edges and pierced with squarish holes like that of the Casa Batlló; instead
+ranges of balconies heavier than those on the rear of the Casa Batlló sway in and
+out like the waves of the sea beneath the foamlike crest of the roof, making the whole
+edifice a very complex plastic entity (Plate <a href='#pl137a'>137<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). From a distance La Pedrera looks as if
+it were all freely modelled in clay; in fact, it is executed in cut stone with boldly hammered
+surfaces that appear to result from natural erosion.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is no external polychromy of glass or tile here, and the frescoed colour used on
+the court walls has suffered such serious deterioration that it is difficult to know what it
+was like originally. On the other hand, Gaudí’s detail was never more carefully studied
+nor more consistent; there are no straight lines at all, and in the forms of the piers rising
+from the ground to support the balconies of the first storey he suggested natural formations
+with real success (Plate <a href='#pl135b'>135<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). These elements look as if they had been produced
+by the action of sea and weather rather than by the chisel, quite as does much of the
+mid-twentieth-century sculpture of Henry Moore.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The marine note is seen at its strongest and most naturalistic in the ironwork however.
+Strewn over the balcony parapets and across various openings, like seaweed over
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>the rocks and sand of the seashore, the railings and grilles are full of intense organic
+vitality with none of the graceful droopiness of Guimard’s Métro entrances. Gaudí’s
+metalwork frequently suggests the work of various mid-twentieth-century sculptors in
+welded metal, quite as his handling of masonry does later sculpture in stone. Indeed, his
+iron grilles often exceed such sculptors’ metalwork in richness and variety of form, as also
+in the fine hand-craftsmanship of the execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The detailing on the Casa Milá, whether of the masonry or the ironwork, avoids the
+nightmarish overscaling of the somewhat similar elements at the Parc Güell, and also the
+coarseness of the broken faience mosaic surfaces that he used so much there and elsewhere
+but here restricted to the roof-tops. As regards the masonry, moreover, it is really
+wrong to speak of detailing, for the very fabric of the structure, not just its edges and its
+trimmings as on the Casa Batlló, has been completely moulded to the architect’s plastic
+will. Whether or not it be correct to consider the Casa Milá an example of the Art
+Nouveau—and technically it is not—La Pedrera remains one of the greatest masterpieces
+of the curvilinear mode of 1900, rivalled in quality only by the finest of Sullivan’s
+skyscrapers (Plate <a href='#pl119'>119</a>), which it does not, of course, resemble visually at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the esteem in which his work has always been held by his fellow-citizens of
+Barcelona, Gaudí had few local imitators of consequence. However, such detailing on
+early twentieth-century buildings there as may appear at first to be conventionally Art
+Nouveau is often in fact a bit Gaudian. Only his assistants Francisc Berenguer (1866-1914)
+and J. M. Jujol Gibert (1879-1949) seem to have understood Gaudí’s mature style.
+At least the house by Jujol at 335 Diagonal in Barcelona, though quite small and simple,
+and the Bodega Güell at Garraf of 1913 by Berenguer are of a quality worthy of comparison
+with Gaudí’s own best work.<a id="r393"></a><a href='#f393' class='c025'><sup>[393]</sup></a> The big Palau de la Musica Catalana, built by
+Luis Domenech Montaner (1850-1923) in 1908, is a very extravagant example of the
+architecture of the period, bold and coarse and rich, but with none of Gaudí’s personal
+flair and integrity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Glasgow Mackintosh after 1908 was a prophet with far less honour than ‘Greek’
+Thomson had received there in an earlier day. But the countercurrent that he had
+helped to set going on the Continent was in full swing, particularly in Austria and in
+Germany (see Chapters <a href='#ch20'>20</a> and <a href='#ch21'>21</a>). Even in Horta’s own Brussels, Josef Hoffmann had
+been called from Vienna as early as 1905 to build the suburban Stoclet
+mansion (Plate <a href='#pl154a'>154<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) at 373 Avenue de Tervueren (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the ephemeral nature of much of its production and the completeness with
+which it was ultimately rejected everywhere, the Art Nouveau has very great historical
+importance. The Art Nouveau offered the first international programme for a basic renewal
+of architecture that the nineteenth century actually set out to realize. Most earlier
+programmes, moreover, even if not primarily revivalistic, aimed chiefly at the reform
+of architecture; this was still true of Voysey and his English contemporaries in these
+very years, though not, of course, of Sullivan and Wright, working in isolation in the
+American Middle West. Thus the Art Nouveau was actually the first stage of modern
+architecture in Europe, if modern architecture be understood as implying, before
+anything else, the total rejection of historicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>The proto-modernity of earlier stages of nineteenth-century architectural development
+is almost always ambiguous, since the leaders of the various successive movements
+rarely intended to break with the past entirely. The characteristic ideal of
+nineteenth-century architects, as of their late eighteenth-century predecessors, had been
+to react against what they considered the decadence of the building arts current in their day
+by returning to the principles of some earlier and supposedly purer or more vital age.
+The very considerable amount of innovation that many European architects before
+Horta introduced in their work was not exactly unconscious; but it was rather a matter
+of achieving personal expression by adapting old forms to new needs, new materials,
+and new methods of construction than of creating a wholly original modern style.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Well before the nineties a very few men had consciously sought absolute originality
+and total freedom from the disciplines of the past. But such architects found little or no
+public support for their programmes of architectural revolution nor even fellow-artists
+to share in their highly individualistic campaigns. After the relatively universal acceptance
+of the doctrines of Romantic Classicism there had followed chiefly a succession and
+a multiplication of divergences; now, in the nineties, a real pattern of convergence
+appeared. But this convergence was premature. The renewal of ornament and of the
+accessories of architecture outran the renewal of the more basic elements of the art of
+building towards which the technical developments of the nineteenth century had been
+so inevitably leading.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus the Art Nouveau stands apart both from the architecture of the preceding hundred
+years and from the modern architecture of the following sixty which extends down
+to the present. It did not bring the one to an end, as the profusion of so-called ‘traditional’
+buildings of the early twentieth century makes very evident (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>),
+nor did it provide much more than a preface to the major new developments that mark
+the early decades of the present century (see Chapters <a href='#ch18'>18</a>-<a href='#ch21'>21</a>). That the Art Nouveau
+was completely rejected on principle by ‘traditionalists’ is not surprising: it was the first
+serious attack on the position they continued to maintain. But the very rapidity with
+which the Art Nouveau rose to popularity and descended to vulgarization encouraged
+its denigration in the name of ‘taste’ by almost all other architects soon after it reached
+its climax around 1900. In recompense, interest in the Art Nouveau began to revive
+early, by the early thirties, after a much shorter period of neglect than other phases of
+nineteenth-century architectural development have undergone and are still undergoing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The place of the Art Nouveau in the story of modern architecture, if only as an
+episode of youthful wild-oat-sowing, is now well established. Most of its exponents
+actually lived long enough to receive in their later years embarrassing praise for youthful
+work they had quite disowned if not forgotten. It is a curious paradox that although
+most of the leaders of the Art Nouveau survived for decades—and Van de Velde died
+only in 1957—not one except Gaudí<a id="r394"></a><a href='#f394' class='c025'><sup>[394]</sup></a> maintained after 1910 the position of relative pre-eminence
+that had been his in 1900. A wholly new cast of characters, many of them no
+younger, came to the fore in the first decade of the twentieth century; they constitute
+the first generation of modern architects, properly speaking.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>
+  <h2 id='ch18' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 18</span><br />MODERN ARCHITECTS OF THE FIRST GENERATION IN FRANCE: AUGUSTE PERRET AND TONY GARNIER</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>No</span> better name than ‘modern’ has yet been found for what has come to be the characteristic
+architecture of the twentieth century throughout the western world, well beyond
+its confines also in Japan, India, and Africa, and increasingly in most of the Communist
+countries. Alternative adjectives such as ‘rational’, ‘functional’, ‘international’, or
+‘organic’ all have the disadvantage of being either vaguer or more tendentious. Whether
+the Art Nouveau or such things as Sullivan’s skyscrapers and Voysey’s houses all truly
+belong, in their rather sharply differing ways, to a first stage of modern architecture
+or are transitional and prefatory may still be debated; but from the earliest years of this
+century several continuous lines of development can certainly be traced. These lines
+were in the main convergent through the twenties, if increasingly divergent in the middle
+decades of the century. By stressing generic changes rather than specific achievements
+the development can be presented almost anonymously, somewhat as the nineteenth-century
+development of commercial architecture was outlined earlier in this book (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>). But it is more humanistic, and at least as true to the detailed facts, to consider
+modern architecture as deriving from the individual activities of a few leaders rather
+than from some Hegelian historic necessity. Of those leaders one group, born in the late
+1860s, constitutes the first generation; a group born some twenty years later forms a
+second generation; since the 1930s still another generation has come to the fore.</p>
+<p class='c010'>A somewhat similar succession of three generations could be distinguished in the case
+of Romantic Classicism, the last universal style in architecture. What sets the twentieth-century
+situation apart from that of the earlier period has been the marked prolongation
+of the activity of the first generation, two of whose leading members, Wright and Perret,
+lived on and remained active well beyond 1950. Wright continued in vigorous production
+down to his death in 1959. The leaders of the second generation, who first moved
+towards the centre of the stage in the early twenties, are mostly still alive; two of them
+at least, Le Corbusier and Mies van der Rohe, have been rather more productive since
+1946 than they were earlier in their careers (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>While some influence from their juniors can be noted in the later work of the modern
+architects of the first generation, a real difference between their approach to architecture
+and that of the second generation has continued. Those who have come forward
+since the mid thirties owe much to the first generation as well as to the second, yet they
+have also manifested some significant characteristics that are their own. The modern
+architecture of the last sixty years may well be presented historically in terms of the
+work of two generations of leaders (see Chapters <a href='#ch18'>18</a>-<a href='#ch23'>23</a>), and then of the production of
+the decade following the Second World War (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). But modern architecture,
+even very broadly interpreted, includes only a small fraction of all building production
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>down to the war; the work of those supporters of the ‘tradition’ in the twentieth
+century bulked much larger in quantity, even if it very rarely rivalled the modern
+work in interest or quality (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). An <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a> will touch on the current
+scene in the early sixties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The leaders of the first generation of modern architects remained great individualists
+to the last. It is therefore not easy to draw any general stylistic picture from their production,
+even for the years before the twenties when they were the only modern architects.
+The leaders of the second generation drew their inspiration, in most cases, not
+from one but from several of the older men; yet their work was so convergent that by
+the mid twenties a body of doctrine had come to exist deriving partly from their theories
+and partly from their few executed buildings and their many projects. With the increasingly
+wide acceptance of this body of doctrine critics were soon ready to recognize
+the existence of a new style as coherent, as consistent, and almost as universally
+employed by younger architects everywhere as the Romantic Classical style had been at
+the opening of the nineteenth century (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Towards the constitution of this new style each of the great architects of the first
+generation had made notable contributions; yet their executed work, and even more
+their theories, remained independent of it. To appreciate that work only in the light of
+what they had in common with their juniors is to miss much of the richness and all of the
+idiosyncrasy of their achievement. In considering the work of these older architects for
+its own sake, what sets it apart from the Art Nouveau, whose protagonists were in many
+cases their exact contemporaries, must first be indicated and evaluated. For example,
+their rejection of ornament, at most but relative, provides only a minor and negative
+point of differentiation. In their positive preoccupation with structure and its direct
+architectonic expression, and also their reform and revitalization of planning concepts,
+however, they went much further than most of the Art Nouveau designers of 1900. It is
+true that such architects as Horta and Jourdain, when working with metal and glass, were
+concerned with the expression of structure, but that expression was usually more decorative
+than architectonic (<a href='#pl132b'>Plates 132<span class='fss'>B</span></a> and <a href='#pl133'>133</a>).
+Traditional materials, such as stone and brick, in the hands of Art
+Nouveau architects and their spiritual brothers often lost all their
+natural character, being treated like so much clay. The sense of
+materials, both new and old, and the determination of their proper use
+preoccupied all the leading architects of the first generation,
+something for which only the English and the Americans prepared the
+way in the nineteenth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The new importance of structure and its expression, the preoccupation with a particular
+building material, is nowhere more evident than in the work of Auguste Perret
+(1874-1954), the only great French architect of this generation. Associated as he was
+with the family contracting firm of A. &amp; G. Perret, which specialized early in the use of
+reinforced concrete, he saw as his principal task the development of formulas of
+design for concrete as valid as those so long established in France for building with stone.
+The other architects of his generation came more gradually and less whole-heartedly to
+the exploitation of new materials—it is paradoxical, for example, that the characteristic
+Art Nouveau interest in exposed metal construction came generally to an end about
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>1905—and their work as a result is more various and less doctrinaire. Because of Perret’s
+clear definition of his goal and his single-minded advance along a predetermined line,
+his somewhat limited architectural achievement may well be considered before the protean
+many-sidedness of Wright’s in America and the ambiguity of Peter Behrens’s
+in Germany, not to speak of the important contributions of Wagner and Loos in Austria,
+and of Berlage and de Klerk in Holland (see Chapters <a href='#ch19'>19</a>, <a href='#ch20'>20</a>, and <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Auguste Perret came of Burgundian stock, but by the accident of his father’s exile
+from France after the Commune he was born in Brussels. His education was entirely
+French. He left the École des Beaux-Arts to enter the family’s building firm without
+waiting to receive the Government’s diploma, somewhat as Wright went out into the
+practical world with but two years of engineering school behind him. His career began
+almost at once, for he built his first house at Berneval in 1890. Several blocks of flats
+and an office building in Paris followed in the next eight years; the Municipal Casino
+at St-Malo, built in 1899, was the first work of any real consequence. There he and his
+brother Gustave (1876-?) used reinforced concrete for an unsupported slab floor of
+54-foot span. Executed otherwise in local granite and wood, this building has a certain
+bold simplicity as remote from ‘Beaux-Arts’ as from Art Nouveau work of the period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Reinforced concrete,<a id="r395"></a><a href='#f395' class='c025'><sup>[395]</sup></a> that is concrete strengthened by internal reinforcing rods of
+metal, seems to have been invented by a French gardener named Joseph Monnier in
+1849, but he used it only for flower pots and outdoor furniture. In 1847 François Coignet
+(1814-88) built some houses of poured concrete without reinforcement; in 1852 for
+a house at 72 Rue Charles Michel in St-Denis, Seine, Coignet first employed his own
+system of <i>béton armé</i>, to use his term. That term has since remained current in French—the
+German term is <i>Eisenbeton</i>, the Italian <i>cimento armato</i>. During the next four decades
+ferro-concrete, to give it its simplest English name, was developed very gradually by
+Coignet and by François Hennebique (1842-1921) with no very notable architectural
+results. Detailed research is gradually revealing many instances of its early use by various
+men in different countries; but neither in the scale of its employment nor in the achievement
+of new and characteristic modes of expression does its history in these decades rival
+that of iron in the first half of the nineteenth century (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1894, just as the Art Nouveau was reaching France, ferro-concrete was used for the
+first time in a structure of some modest architectural pretension by J.-E.-A. de Baudot<a id="r396"></a><a href='#f396' class='c025'><sup>[396]</sup></a>
+(1836-1915) for a school in the Rue de Sévigné in Paris. This is overshadowed in interest,
+however, by the church he began to build in 1897. Saint-Jean-de-Montmartre at 2
+Place des Abbesses in Paris has very little connexion with the Art Nouveau except for
+its drastic novelty. On the contrary, de Baudot employed for his structural skeleton very
+much simplified Gothic forms. Actually, it is incorrect to call the material used here
+<i>béton armé</i>; it is more properly <i>ciment armé</i> since there is no coarse aggregate as in
+concrete. Like his master Viollet-le-Duc’s projects, Saint-Jean is curious rather than impressive
+and not at all to be compared in intrinsic interest with Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia.
+Worth noting, however, is the use of faience mosaic to decorate the concrete structural
+members, something de Baudot had already tried out on his earlier school. The authorities
+were dubious of the strength of de Baudot’s structure, as well they might have been
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>considering the iron-like delicacy of the membering, and a hiatus of several years held
+up the construction after 1899, the church being completed only in 1902-4. As has been
+mentioned already, the contractor was Contamin working with Soubaux, his partner
+of the period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before Saint-Jean-de-Montmartre was finally finished in 1904, Perret had already
+demonstrated the architectural possibilities of the new material rather more effectively
+in the block of flats that he built in 1902-3 at 25 bis Rue Franklin in Paris. Despite the
+echo of the Art Nouveau already noted in the foliage patterns of faience mosaic filling
+the wall-panels on the exterior, most of the interest of the building resides in its structure
+and its planning. Like that of Anatole de Baudot’s church, the structure is visibly a
+discrete framework, but made up entirely of vertical and horizontal elements with no
+curved members of either Gothic or Art Nouveau inspiration. However, the concrete
+is nowhere exposed but always covered with glazed tile sheathing. Within the wall-panels
+the windows are crisply outlined by plain projecting bands of tile; this provides
+an early instance of that <i>encadrement</i>, or framing, on which Perret came to insist in all
+his work after the mid twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The skeletal structure of 25 bis Rue Franklin allowed great freedom in planning
+(Figure <a href='#i311'>36</a>). Around a small court, sunk into the front of the building, the principal
+living areas of each flat all open into one another, somewhat as in Wright’s Hickox
+house of 1900 but with less spatial unification (Figure <a href='#i274'>31</a>); the result is closer to Horta’s
+treatment of the main floor of his Aubecq house of 1900 in Brussels (Figure <a href='#i290'>34</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next year Perret built another block of flats at 83 Avenue Niel in Paris with an
+internal skeleton not of concrete but of metal, and façades of stone treated somewhat like
+those of his Art Nouveau flats of the previous year in the Avenue Wagram (see Chapter
+17). He returned, however, at once to the use of ferro-concrete and rarely deserted it
+again.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Garage Ponthieu, which was built in 1905-6 in the Rue de Ponthieu
+in Paris, is a much more striking example of the possibilities of the
+new material than the earlier blocks of flats; moreover, the concrete
+is here exposed (Plate <a href='#pl139a'>139<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Inside, galleries
+carried along both sides of the
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped
+space provide a second level for parking motor
+cars and the whole interior is almost as light and open as if it were built of metal, thus
+recalling a little de Baudot’s church. The façade, likewise, is as skeletal as if executed with
+a metal frame. But Perret’s determination, somewhat comparable to Sullivan’s in the
+Wainwright Building in St Louis of fifteen years before, to organize the expression
+of a new type of construction along basically Classical lines is as evident as the maximal
+fenestration. The thin slab which projects at the top provides a sort of cornice and the range
+of small windows underneath it a sort of frieze, while the arrangement of the elements of
+the façade below is very formal indeed. The rose-window-like glazing of the big central
+panel is somewhat rudimentary and rather less Classical in feeling than the rest, but the
+essentials of Perret’s concrete aesthetic are all adumbrated here as they were not in the
+more tentative block of flats in the Rue Franklin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the solid, marble-sheathed façade of the Théâtre des Champs Élysées in the Avenue
+Montaigne in Paris, Perret’s largest and most conspicuous early work, his classicizing
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>intentions are even more evident, but the expression of concrete-skeleton structure is
+much less complete; these intentions are underlined, moreover, by the large stylized
+reliefs by Antoine Bourdelle that provide the only external decoration. Originally, in
+late 1910, the commission for this theatre was given to Van de Velde. He at once proposed
+that it should be built of ferro-concrete with the Perret firm as contractors. During
+the course of the following year Perret proposed various changes in the plan to make
+more practical its construction with a concrete skeleton. When he later offered an
+alternative design for the façade this was preferred by Van de Velde because it seemed
+then so expressive of the underlying structure, as it hardly does to posterity. By September
+Van de Velde made a final report as consulting architect and withdrew completely.
+Needless to say, there has been controversy ever since as to the degree of Perret’s responsibility
+for this major monument of twentieth-century Paris; as built, however,
+there can be little question that it is very largely of his design. How different a theatre
+by Van de Velde would have been is at least suggested by the one that he erected in 1914
+for the Werkbund Exhibition in Cologne (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i311'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i311.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 36. Auguste Perret: Paris, block of flats, 25 bis Rue Franklin, 1902-3, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The foyer of the Théâtre des Champs Élysées expresses the possibilities of ferro-concrete
+in a more architectural way than do the interiors of the earlier block of flats and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>the garage. The actual structural members of the skeleton are visible in the free-standing
+columns, as are also the beams that they support; the walls are very evidently only thin
+panels between the piers. A few simple mouldings are used to assimilate the new expression
+to the conventions of academic design—too few to satisfy contemporaries, though
+too many for later taste.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is less clarity of expression in the great auditorium because of the profusion of
+murals contributed by various Symbolists and Neo-Impressionists—Maurice Denis and
+K.-X. Roussel most notably—and by the over-all gilding of the principal structural members,
+which are also elaborated by semi-Classical detailing. Even so, the fact that the
+dome is carried on the four pairs of tall slender columns is very evident, and the swinging
+curves of the successive balconies give early evidence of the ease with which ferro-concrete
+lends itself to bold cantilevering.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The presumed necessity of achieving monumentality undoubtedly compromised the
+purity of Perret’s expression of structure throughout the Théâtre des Champs Élysées.
+During the War, which followed so soon after the inauguration of the theatre in 1913,
+an important industrial commission of Perret’s produced what would be for the next
+generation of architects a more exemplary work. The warehouses built at Casablanca
+in North Africa in 1915-16—there are also others there of 1919—required no representational
+display; they are almost ‘pure’ engineering in concrete. But the lightness of
+their walls, pierced with abstract patterns formed by ventilating holes, and the elegance
+of their thin shell vaults of segmental section displayed the potentialities of a quite new
+structural aesthetic, at once delicate and precise, with no echoes at all of the massive
+masonry buildings of the past.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The interior of the Esders Clothing Factory at 78 Avenue Philippe-Auguste in Paris,
+erected just after the War in 1919, and several smaller industrial buildings for the metal-working
+firm of Wallut &amp; Grange at Montataire, Oise, of 1919-21 were more readily
+studied by younger architects and, in the case of the Esders factory, much grander in
+scale than the North African warehouses. Even more elegant than the warehouses, and
+equally ‘pure’, was the atelier of the decorator Durand built in Paris in the Rue Olivier-Métra
+in 1922. This has a shell vault rising from the floor broken, along one side only, by
+a long skylight over widely spaced ribs that continue the curve of the vault.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By this time, of course, ferro-concrete was in general use for industrial building
+throughout most of the western world. In France the vast parabolic-vaulted aircraft
+hangar at Orly, Seine, designed by the engineer Eugène Freyssinet (1879-1962) in 1916,
+overshadowed in size and boldness anything built by Perret. This very exceptional utilitarian
+construction, magnificent in form yet quite without architectural pretension,
+was destroyed during the Second World War. To Tony Garnier’s work in Lyons we
+shall turn later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In America Frank Lloyd Wright used ferro-concrete for his modest E.Z. Polish
+Factory in Chicago in 1905, just as Ernest L. Ransome was completing the first mature
+example of a large plant of ferro-concrete frame construction, the United Shoe
+Machinery Plant in Beverly, Mass., begun in 1903.<a id="r397"></a><a href='#f397' class='c025'><sup>[397]</sup></a> All over the Middle West, moreover,
+grain elevators<a id="r398"></a><a href='#f398' class='c025'><sup>[398]</sup></a> were rising in the form of gigantic linked cylinders. In Switzerland
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>the great engineer Robert Maillart (1872-1940) in his factories and bridges was
+using concrete in several new ways as different from the elevators as from the usual
+timber-like frames of the French and the Americans or the shell vaults of Perret and
+Freyssinet. Everywhere the importance of ferro-concrete as the prime building material
+of the twentieth century was receiving increasing recognition; for it was a material more
+universally available than structural steel and also so elastic in its potentialities that these
+have hardly even yet been adequately explored.<a id="r399"></a><a href='#f399' class='c025'><sup>[399]</sup></a> In the early twenties, when a younger
+generation of architects all over Europe turned their major attention to ferro-concrete as
+the most modern of building materials, Perret was the architect who had the most to
+offer them—how limited had been Wright’s exploitation of concrete up to this time we
+shall shortly see (see Chapter <a href='#ch19'>19</a>). When Perret erected the church of Notre-Dame at Le
+Raincy, S.-et-O., near Paris in 1922-3 concrete came of age as a building material in
+somewhat the same way that cast iron had done in a series of major English and French
+edifices of the 1840s (see Chapter <a href='#ch07'>7</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i313'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i313.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 37. Auguste Perret: Le Raincy, S.-et-O., Notre-Dame, 1922-3, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Le Raincy church is not revolutionary in plan, being a basilica with aisles and an
+apse; unlike de Baudot’s church, however, it has no specific elements of Gothic reminiscence
+in the interior (Plate <a href='#pl141'>141</a>). Instead it provides what the medieval builders
+of Saint-Urbain at Troyes or King’s College Chapel in Cambridge had obviously
+sought to achieve, a complete cage of glass supported by a minimal skeleton of solid
+elements. The broad segmental shell vault of the nave, with smaller vaults running
+crosswise over the aisle bays in the Cistercian way, is carried on no walls at all but only
+on the slightest of free-standing columns reeded vertically by the forms in which they
+were cast (Figure <a href='#i313'>37</a>). Quite separate from this supporting skeleton is the continuous
+enclosing screen of pre-cast concrete units, pierced and filled with coloured glass designed
+by Maurice Denis. This is carried round the entire rectangle of interior space and
+bowed out at the east end in a segmental curve to form a shallow apse behind the altar.
+Only at the front is the clarity of the conception compromised by the awkward impingement
+of the clusters of columns that shoot up to form the tower.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>Deserting the dilute Classicism that was his natural bent, Perret allowed the clustered
+piers of his tower to rise into the sky, supporting nothing at the top, in order to approximate
+the outline of a Gothic spire. Even more than in the interior, where one is aware only
+of the lowest stage, the verticalism and the medieval suggestion of this feature, so over-ingeniously
+composed of standard ferro-concrete elements, seems quite at odds with the
+severe concrete-and-glass box that provides the body of the church. Few other ferro-concrete
+churches<a id="r400"></a><a href='#f400' class='c025'><sup>[400]</sup></a> of the twenties, least of all Perret’s own Sainte-Thérèse at Montmagny,
+S.-et-O., of 1925-6 and other French ones by his imitators, rival Notre-Dame at Le
+Raincy. The largest and boldest, Sankt Antonius at Basel in Switzerland, built by Karl
+Moser (1860-1936) in 1926-7, seems somewhat heavy and factory-like. Its plain rectangular
+tower, however, rising free at one corner of the church, is much simpler and more
+original than Perret’s spire and has been frequently and successfully emulated by other
+architects. Of quite a different order are the Expressionist churches of the German
+Dominikus Böhm, which have, in the long run, had at least as wide an influence (see
+Chapters 20 and 25).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two remodelled Paris banks, one of 1922 for the Société Marseillaise de Crédit in
+the Rue Auber and another of 1925 for the Crédit National Hôtelier, gave evidence of
+Perret’s capacity to extend the implications of ferro-concrete design to more conventional
+problems. These interiors are almost wholly devoid of ornament, and they largely
+depend for their effectiveness, like the foyer of the Théâtre des Champs Élysées, upon
+the careful proportioning of the exposed elements of the skeleton construction. In 1924
+the Palais de Bois, a temporary exhibition building at the Porte Maillot in Paris, showed
+how this sense of direct structural expression could be exploited in a building all of
+timber. This was much more successful than the theatre that Perret built in 1924-5 for
+the Paris Exposition des Arts Décoratifs. Of a quite different order was the Tour
+d’Orientation at Grenoble, also of 1924-5. Here Perret was far happier in achieving
+something comparable to the richness of medieval spires with standard structural
+elements and pre-cast panels than in the tower of his church at Le Raincy, for this is much
+more structurally conceived and quite devoid of Gothic reminiscence in the outline.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mid twenties also brought to Perret, by this time widely recognized in advanced
+circles as the leading French architect, several commissions for houses, chiefly for
+artists, in France and even as far afield as Egypt. Characteristically French in his preoccupation
+with large, not to say monumental, problems, house-design was not Perret’s
+forte in the way it was that of his American and Austrian contemporaries Wright and
+Loos. Moreover by this date certain younger architects, particularly Le Corbusier and
+two or three others in Paris, had set under way a revolution in domestic architecture as
+drastic as Wright’s of twenty-five years earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perret’s best houses, such as the Mouron house at Versailles of 1926 or the Nubar
+house in the Rue du 19 Janvier at Garches of 1930, have an almost eighteenth-century
+dignity and serenity. The ‘stripped-Classical’ apparatus of terminal cornices, <i>encadrements</i>
+around the openings, and occasional free-standing columns is doubtless logical as
+an expression of the construction, but it is also very conservative in effect. Yet the ferro-concrete
+construction encouraged Perret to introduce very wide openings leading out
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>on to surrounding terraces and to open up the main living areas even more than he had
+done in the flats of 1902-3 in the Rue Franklin. Such treatments were still rather advanced
+for Europe, however common they may have been in America for a quarter of a century
+and more. The characteristic quality of Perret’s domestic work is seen at its best in a
+small block of flats at 9 Place de la Porte de Passy in Paris facing the Bois de Boulogne
+that he built in 1930 (Plate <a href='#pl139b'>139<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This has a façade towards the park so superbly proportioned
+that it might almost be by Schinkel and a flow of space inside the individual flats
+that is worthy of Wright, although much more formal in organization.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Now Perret began to receive the official commissions that are generally given in
+France only to men well on in years. The building designed in 1929 that he erected for
+the technical services of the Ministry of Marine in the Boulevard Victor in Paris is one
+of the largest and most typical of his later works (Plate <a href='#pl140b'>140<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The complex rhythms and
+subtle three-dimensional play of this façade are entirely produced by the actual structural
+elements. The skeleton divides the long façades into a series of horizontal panels within
+which are set the vertical frames of the windows separated by pre-cast slabs; in one
+storey the windows even extend the full width of the bays.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To a considerable extent Perret had succeeded in achieving what he had long consciously
+sought, that is, a vocabulary of design in concrete as direct, as expressive, and
+as ordered as the masonry vocabulary of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries—a
+<i>style Louis XX</i>, so to say—still very French in a quite traditional way, yet unmistakably
+of this century. In the Garde Meuble or National Furniture Storehouse in the Rue
+Croulebarbe in Paris, begun the next year, the vocabulary is—from principle—all but
+identical; yet fewer windows and more solid panels were necessary here so that the
+general effect is flatter and blanker. The curved colonnade across the open side of the
+court is almost archaeologically reminiscent of the eighteenth century, despite the
+breadth of its spans and the ingenuity of its detailing. The small concert hall of 1929 in
+the Rue Cardinet for the École Normale de Musique is less pretentious but also less
+impressive.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Concrete to Perret, after all these years of employing it, was not a crude or a substitute
+material. By the use of coloured aggregates which he found various means of
+exposing he was able to vary the texture and colour of his poured and pre-cast elements
+with considerable subtlety and elegance. In the later buildings the workmanship is
+usually of the highest quality—it was by no means so in the early twenties—with arrises
+brought to a sharp edge in pure cement and such classicizing details as the flute-like
+facets on piers and the capital-like treatment of their tops carried to a finish comparable
+to that of chisel-cut freestone.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thus Perret was eventually able to avoid the industrial brutality of much work in
+concrete where the material is left as it comes from rough timber forms with crumbling
+arrises and pockmarked surfaces. Such lack of finish is acceptable in large-scale engineering
+work but certainly awkward when seen close to as in Notre-Dame at Le Raincy. On
+the other hand, Perret kept well away also from that slickness of surface—especially popular
+with younger architects in the twenties—that is produced when concrete is covered
+with a smooth stucco rendering and painted.<a id="r401"></a><a href='#f401' class='c025'><sup>[401]</sup></a> Such slickness is, of course, generally very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>soon lost as the original surface grows cracked and stained; only too rarely is it properly
+maintained by frequent patching and repainting. Concrete was to Perret a worthy
+material, like stone, and therefore deserved the effort and the cost required to give it an
+expressive finish requiring little or no maintenance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The reticulated wall system of the big government buildings was also used for a
+block of flats at 51-55 Rue Raynouard, built in 1932, where Perret himself lived and also
+maintained his atelier. The necessary adaptation of his formalized open planning to a
+trapezoidal site produced suites of interior space of considerable complexity yet perfect
+orderliness. Though Perret was still without a governmental diploma, the atelier<a id="r402"></a><a href='#f402' class='c025'><sup>[402]</sup></a> he
+ran here was associated with the École des Beaux-Arts. It almost seemed now as if he
+wished to demonstrate how much truer a representative he was of real French tradition
+than those who were its official, though unworthy, custodians. Thus the older he grew
+the farther his work drew away from that of the more revolutionary modern architects
+of the second generation. By 1930 it had definitely begun to date; yet it was only in the
+last twenty-five years of his life that there came to him the greatest opportunities of
+realizing his ambitions for French twentieth-century architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In comparison with Perret’s own pioneering of 1902-22 his late work seems to lack
+vitality. For all the thought that went into its finish, for all the virtuosity of certain
+features—such as the self-supporting curve of the broad stair that spirals down into his
+atelier in the Rue Raynouard—his very ambition to create a new French tradition gave
+his later buildings something of the banality of those designed by the more conventionally
+‘traditional’ architects of his generation. This applies in particular to his principal
+work of the thirties in Paris, the still unfinished Musée des Travaux-Publics in the
+Avenue du Président-Wilson which he began in 1937. Here the ingeniously pseudo-Classical—yet
+also truly structural—apparatus of external engaged columns and the intricate
+plan spreading out from a circular auditorium at the apex of the site are quite in
+the Beaux-Arts manner. But the grandeur of scale in the interiors and the exciting upward
+sweep of the boldly curving stairs lend value, and even novelty, to a scheme that is
+in many ways extremely conservative.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After the Second World War Perret was asked to provide plans for the rebuilding of
+several bombed cities: Le Havre in 1945; Amiens in 1947; and the Vieux-Port district of
+Marseilles in 1951. For Amiens he designed a skyscraper, long physically complete but still
+unoccupied, that derives more from his decorative Tour d’Orientation at Grenoble than
+from the skyscrapers of the New World. This is one of his few complete failures, if for
+no other reason than the competition its tall and awkward silhouette offers to the
+cathedral, whose towers had so long dominated the city’s skyline. The executed Marseilles
+buildings are not of his design any more than are most of those at Amiens.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Le Havre, however, his control of the rebuilding was more complete. The Place de
+l’Hôtel de Ville, or at least the three sides completed between 1948 and 1950 by his
+associates, outweighs by a great deal the failure of the Amiens skyscraper (Plate <a href='#pl140a'>140<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+Ranges of four-storey buildings, all carried out in the reticulated vocabulary of his
+Government buildings of the early thirties in Paris, surround a large sunken plaza; the
+Hôtel de Ville in the near-Beaux-Arts manner of his Musée des Travaux Publics occupies
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>the fourth side. Shops open towards the square under a continuous colonnade. Behind,
+rising out of small courts, are taller towers occupied by flats; these lend great three-dimensional
+interest to the formal and absolutely symmetrical layout of this section of
+the rebuilt quarter. Since his death similar ranges of buildings have been carried out
+along the quais to the south. On the whole the extensive work of the team<a id="r403"></a><a href='#f403' class='c025'><sup>[403]</sup></a> is superior
+to the public monuments by their captain, the Hôtel de Ville and the church of St
+Joseph, both designed in 1950 and completed before Perret’s death in 1954.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Impressive as is Perret’s Le Havre in the international roster of post-war urban
+rebuilding, it seems curiously out of date today, a mere realization in the 1940s and
+1950s, one might almost say, of the aspirations of the early decades of the century. Since
+that period had few such opportunities as was Perret’s here to realize urbanism on this
+scale, however, what he accomplished there is a welcome addition to the city-building
+achievements of this century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Until the second generation appeared on the scene in the twenties France produced
+little modern architecture of much interest besides Perret’s work. The department stores
+of the early years of the century, still strongly under the influence of the Art Nouveau,
+have already been mentioned (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>). After Perret the most important architect
+was Tony Garnier (1867-1948), and he is of more significance for a vast project that
+he prepared in his youth than for the executed work of his maturity. In the later decades
+of the eighteenth century, when the Romantic Classical revolution in architecture was
+getting under way, projects were often of more interest than executed buildings for
+their premonitions of what was to come, and this was particularly true in France. It was
+true again in the early decades of the twentieth century, down at least to Le Corbusier’s
+project for the Palace of the League of Nations of 1927-8.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Ledoux’s ‘Ville Idéale’ summarized his own aspirations and also provided a wealth of
+ideas from which later generations of Romantic Classical architects could draw inspiration.
+So, at the opening of the twentieth century, Garnier’s very complete scheme
+for a ‘Cité Industrielle’<a id="r404"></a><a href='#f404' class='c025'><sup>[404]</sup></a> contained a wealth of ideas on which architects drew well into
+the 1920s. Like that of the ‘Ville Idéale’, the interest of the ‘Cité Industrielle’ is threefold:
+sociological, urbanistic, and architectural. Henceforth the industrial city would be
+more and more accepted as normal and not exceptional. Its needs both general and
+specific—so notably recognized by Garnier, all the way from the provision of adequate
+workers’ housing to various sorts of industrial plants—would become more and more
+important preoccupations of most modern architects. In coping generally with the
+manifold needs of an industrial community Garnier also faced in detail many very
+different individual architectural problems with considerable ingenuity.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Garnier’s solutions in the main were very simple and direct, but they often had a
+merely negative character, as of buildings of academic design scraped of all surface paraphernalia,
+rather than displaying any fresh and creative approach. But an important part
+of the main architectural development for some twenty years was to be such a purging
+of inherited excess. Garnier reduced architecture to basic, if not particularly unfamiliar,
+terms; on his foundations the next generation began, in the twenties, to build something
+much more positive; thus his influence was parallel to that of Loos
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch20'>20</a> and <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>His contribution to the twentieth century’s repertory of forms was less than
+Ledoux’s had been to that of the nineteenth a hundred years earlier; notably inferior
+in quality to Ledoux’s was his own actual production, moreover.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Garnier’s appointment as Architect of the City of Lyons in 1905, a position which he
+retained until 1919, might seem to have provided the perfect opportunity to realize his
+dreams as, but for the Revolution, should Ledoux’s appointment by Louis XV to build
+the Royal Saltworks at Arc-et-Senans. But neither the Municipal Slaughterhouse of
+Lyons at La Mouche, executed in 1909-13, the Herriot Hospital at Grange-Blanche,
+designed in 1911 and begun in 1915, nor the Olympic Stadium of 1913-16 at Lyons
+realize much more than the obvious practical implications of the detailed projects for
+various buildings in his ‘Cité Industrielle’.<a id="r405"></a><a href='#f405' class='c025'><sup>[405]</sup></a> The slaughterhouse is bold structurally but
+clumsily industrial in its handling, with none of the refinement of Perret’s factories; the
+more highly finished stadium has irrelevant Classical touches in the detailing, simple
+though it is, of the concrete elements.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Garnier’s work after the First World War began with the hospital, which was completed
+only in 1930, and included a large low-cost housing project in the États-Unis
+quarter of Lyons designed as early as 1920 but executed only in 1928-30. Both are quite
+overshadowed by the comparable work of the next generation in these years—that in
+other countries at least, if not that in France. The Moncey Telephone Office at Lyons of
+1927, the Textile School at La Croix-Rousse of 1930, and the Hôtel de Ville of the Paris
+suburb of Boulogne-Billancourt of 1931-4, on which another architect, J.-H.-E. Debat-Ponsan
+(b. 1882), a pupil of Victor Laloux, collaborated, differ very little from the
+scraped academicism of most French public architecture of this period. The houses Garnier
+built in 1909 at St-Rambert and in 1910 at St-Cyr (Mont d’Or) are among his best
+executed works; all the same, except for their early date, they are hardly very notable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two blocks of flats built by Henri Sauvage (1873-1932) in 1925 in the Rue des
+Amiraux and in the Rue Vavin in Paris, faced with glazed white brick and stepped back
+in section to provide terraces for the upper floors, are well above the level of quality
+of Garnier’s later work without approaching that of Perret’s. That in the Rue des
+Amiraux, being for working-class occupancy, is more significant of the international
+aspirations of the period. Although less drastically novel than the low-cost housing of
+the twenties in Holland and Germany, this has survived very well because of its permanent
+grime-proof surfacing. It has been rather unjustly forgotten, largely because it
+lies off the main line of international development (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most French production in the twenties remained completely subject to academic
+discipline although it was often tricked out with the sort of modish decoration that
+flourished particularly at the Paris Exposition des Arts Décoratifs of 1925. Yet at the
+same time Paris, as the world capital of modern art, was one of the three great foci of
+architectural advance. The linkage between advanced painting and the Art Nouveau in
+the nineties was discussed earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a>). Perret employed Symbolist and Neo-Impressionist
+painters as collaborators, beginning with the Théâtre des Champs Élysées
+before the First World War. But there is no real parallel between his architecture and
+that of Garnier or Sauvage on the one hand and the art of the great twentieth-century
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>masters of the École de Paris on the other. Picasso, Gris, Braque, Matisse, and Derain
+had no effective influence on architecture. Characteristically Perret employed Bourdelle,
+not Maillol, when he needed sculpture. With the next generation the situation entirely
+changed; but the new architects of the twenties, not only in France but everywhere, for
+all their greater sophistication and their close association with advanced painters and
+sculptors, still owed at least as much to Perret and to Garnier if not to Sauvage.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To the most creative new architects who appeared around 1920 Garnier’s project for
+the ‘Cité Industrielle’ offered both a challenge and an inspiration, but Perret was by far
+the more important influence. Somewhat later, towards 1930, that influence became
+almost ubiquitous in France, and its effect grew increasingly banal as the ferro-concrete
+Classicism of Perret’s later work gradually replaced the official and inherited tradition of
+the École des Beaux-Arts, by that time nearly obsolete even in France.<a id="r406"></a><a href='#f406' class='c025'><sup>[406]</sup></a> As has so often
+happened in France before, a youthful rebel, after being accepted late in life by the
+academic authorities, was only too ready to support a new discipline that had itself
+already become academic. Thus is cultural continuity maintained in France at the expense
+of variety and recurrent new growth. The situation was rather different in
+America, as we shall soon see.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>
+  <h2 id='ch19' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 19</span><br />FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT AND HIS CALIFORNIA CONTEMPORARIES</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Wright</span> in America found himself, in his seventies, as generally accepted a master as
+did Perret in France, but his influence never became at all academic in the way of
+Perret’s after 1930. There could hardly be a greater contrast between the careers of two
+contemporaries in the same field. Both were very productive over a length of time
+that is more than a third of the whole period covered by this book, but this is about all
+that they did have in common. Perret’s career progressed gradually over several decades
+to general and even official acceptance. Wright’s career, on the other hand, had very
+notable ups and downs, and he only once received a governmental commission.</p>
+<p class='c010'>After the years of preparation discussed earlier (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>) there followed some
+ten years of great success. But this success was largely restricted to a particular region,
+the Middle West, and to a particular field, the building of good-sized suburban houses.
+Following that, in a decade interrupted by the First World War, Wright’s influence
+rapidly increased, not at home but abroad, although he had considerably fewer, if much
+larger, commissions. Then, paradoxically, in the twenties, while the United States
+swung into the biggest building boom in history, there began a decade in which Wright’s
+production all but ceased. Many assumed that his career had closed and that his work
+had passed into history as had Voysey’s and Mackintosh’s by that time. This, of course,
+was not at all true. In the mid thirties Wright’s activity revived, and his production
+continued at a rising rate until his death. Moreover, there was little sign of any decline
+into personal academicism such as marked the late work of Perret in the same decades.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Where Perret had, in effect, only a double architectural career, being largely occupied
+on the one hand with industrial commissions close to the dividing line between architecture
+and engineering, and on the other hand with public buildings, Wright’s career
+was increasingly multifarious. Beginning chiefly as a domestic architect, he never
+ceased to build houses; but by the 1950s there were few fields, including that of urbanism,
+which he had not entered, if only to present challenging projects and announce controversial
+theses. Disciple of a great skyscraper architect, author of a succession of skyscraper
+projects, Wright had to wait a full half century after Sullivan completed his last
+skyscraper in Chicago before he built his first, the Price Tower in Bartlesville, Oklahoma,
+in 1953-5. Some of his planning projects may yet come to posthumous execution,
+and his work at Florida Southern College at least was of urbanistic scope.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perret consciously summarized and continued earlier French tradition; but Wright
+wished to initiate a new tradition, one which he preferred to call ‘Usonian’ rather than
+American. Perret’s disciples, emulators, and imitators in his later years were able to take
+control of French architecture to a quite considerable extent. Wright’s disciples, despite
+the fifty years during which he maintained offices that were also training ateliers in Oak
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>Park, in Chicago, in Tokyo, in Wisconsin, and in Arizona, have only rarely made any
+significant mark of their own; nor has his influence had much more specific effect on the
+character of modern architecture in America than it has had generically on that of the
+world outside. Where Perret’s influence, particularly outside France, has been largely
+restricted to architects working with ferro-concrete, the material that he was the first to
+master architecturally—and even in concrete construction this influence has inhibited as
+often as it has liberated—Wright’s influence has been protean on the international scene.
+From the day when the German publisher Wasmuth first made Wright’s work available
+to Europeans at the opening of the second decade of the century this has been true, down
+to the time, a decade ago, when the Italian architect, critic, and historian Bruno Zevi
+(b. 1918) tried to invert chronology so that Wright’s ‘architettura organica’<a id="r407"></a><a href='#f407' class='c025'><sup>[407]</sup></a> might
+seem to succeed rather than to precede the ‘funzionalismo’ or ‘International Style’ of
+the second generation of modern architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before turning to a more detailed consideration of Wright’s work after 1900 one
+further comparison with the <i>œuvre</i> of Perret may be made. Although Wright never
+confined himself to one material or to one method of construction—indeed, his versatility
+in this respect continued to increase right down to his death—he was from the
+first especially interested in the possibilities of concrete. He published in <i>The Brickbuilder</i>
+for August 1901 a project for a small village bank, still very Sullivanian in its rich
+detailing, that was intended to be executed entirely in concrete. This was only two years
+after Perret had first used the material with little or no attempt to develop its architectural
+possibilities and a year before his block of flats in the Rue Franklin was designed.
+His E.-Z. Polish Factory of 1905 at 3005-17 West Carroll Avenue in Chicago has
+already been mentioned. The Unity Church in Oak Park of 1906 (Plate <a href='#pl143b'>143<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), entirely
+of concrete surfaced with a special pebble aggregate and decorated with integral ornament,
+precedes by many years Perret’s church at Le Raincy (Plate <a href='#pl141'>141</a>). Perret’s ultimate
+development of various refined finishes for exposed concrete came still later. Admittedly,
+however, the Oak Park church is a much smaller and less striking edifice than Perret’s;
+and the work of Kahn and other industrial architects soon overshadowed Wright’s
+modest factory. Moreover, it was only with the twenties that Wright, like the
+Europeans, really gave major attention to building in concrete.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright’s creative powers in the first decade of this century were largely concentrated
+on his ‘Prairie Houses’. Their essentials were already present in the two Kankakee houses
+of 1900 (Plate <a href='#pl142a'>142<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and the first house designed for the <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> (see Chapter
+15). But these essentials received more masterly—one might well say more classic—expression
+two years later. The large W. W. Willitts house at 715 South Sheridan Road
+in Highland Park, Ill., of 1902 is of wooden-stud construction, but covered like the Kankakee
+houses with stucco (Plate <a href='#pl142b'>142<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The C. S. Ross house off the South Shore Road
+on Lake Delavan in Wisconsin, also of 1902, has the rough board-and-batten sheathing of
+the River Forest Golf Club (<a href='#pl143a'>Plates 143<span class='fss'>A</span></a> and <a href='#pl128b'>128<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+Both offer versions of the cruciform
+plan (Figure <a href='#i322'>38</a>) with the interior space ‘flowing’ round a central chimney core and
+also extended outward on to covered verandas and open terraces quite as in Price’s
+Tuxedo Park houses of fifteen years earlier (Figure <a href='#i270'>28</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i322'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>
+<img src='images/i322.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 38. Frank Lloyd Wright: Highland Park, Ill., W. W. Willitts house, 1902, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another major work of 1902 is the Arthur Heurtley house at 318 Forest
+Avenue in Oak Park, Ill. There the principal living areas, which are
+on the upper floor as in the Husser house of 1899, form an articulated
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped
+within the basic square that is defined by
+the overhanging roof. The brick walls of the lower storey have broad
+projecting horizontal bands and the wide, low entrance arch remains
+quite Richardsonian. The upper storey consists largely of continuous
+ranges of wooden-mullioned casement windows.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No notable progression is observable in the series of suburban houses
+built during the remainder of this decade before Wright went to Europe
+in 1909; but he produced many other brilliant illustrations of both
+the cruciform and the square plan as well as a more elongated sort
+extending along a single axis. Of the many fine examples of the
+Willitts or Ross type around Chicago, the small house for Isabel
+Roberts at 603 Edgewood Place in River Forest of 1908 is one of the
+best; there the living room in the front wing is carried up two
+storeys, as was proposed for one version of the <i>Ladies Home
+Journal</i> house. The larger F. J. Baker house at 507 Lake Avenue in
+Wilmette of 1909 also has a two-storeyed living room; but here the
+tall cross element of the plan which this feature provides was moved
+to one end of the house so that the plan is of a
+<span class="sans">T</span> or <span class="sans">L</span>
+shape rather than cruciform.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The E. H. Cheney house at 520 North East Avenue in Oak Park of 1904 is square like
+the Heurtley house near by. It is raised off the ground on a sort of extended square stylobate
+so that the living area, which runs all across the front as at the Hickox house, can
+open freely through french doors on to the walled terrace in front. In the T. P. Hardy
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>house at 1319 South Main Street in Racine, Wis., of 1905 a declivitous lakeside site encouraged
+a vertical rather than a horizontal organization of the interior with a two-storey
+living room as the spatial core.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A very different feeling pervades the small, squarish house at 6 Elizabeth Court in
+Oak Park that Wright built for Mrs Thomas Gale in 1909. Here flat slabs—which had
+been proposed as early as 1902 in a project (perhaps for execution in concrete) for the
+Yahara Boat Club in Madison, Wis.—replace the low-pitched hip or gable roofs of the
+characteristic Prairie Houses. Moreover, parapeted balconies and other simple rectangular
+features elaborate plastically the composition in a fashion that suggests the
+abstract sculpture of a decade later in Europe (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The W. A. Glasner house of 1905 at 850 Sheridan Road in Glencoe, Ill., on the contrary
+was extended longitudinally and the living area for the first time not at all articulated
+but completely unified (Figure <a href='#i323'>39</a>). Something of the same longitudinal extension
+marks the much larger F. C. Robie house at 5757 Woodlawn Avenue in Chicago of
+1909. But there the living room and dining room are separated by the chimney core
+and raised above the ground level. Built of fine Roman brick, this is the most monumental
+of these early houses. The long horizontal lines of the balcony below and the roof
+above dominate the composition; yet a cross element comes forward in the upper storeys
+to provide, less symmetrically than in his houses of cruciform plan, something of the
+abstract plasticity of the Gale house.</p>
+
+<div id='i323'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i323.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 39. Frank Lloyd Wright: Glencoe, Ill., W. A. Glasner house, 1905, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another large house of the end of the decade, the Avery Coonley house at 300 Scottswood
+Road in Riverside, Ill., of 1908, offers a quite different and much more extended
+plan. The square block containing the living room rises above a terrace and a reflecting
+pool as the main element of the design, but from this block two long wings project.
+That to the left includes a large dining room and also very extensive service facilities at
+the rear; in the one to the right are the master’s suite and other bedrooms. Thus the
+house is, in a later phrase of Wright’s, ‘zoned’ according to function. The upper walls
+of this house are covered with a geometrical pattern produced by setting coloured tiles
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>into the stucco. Wright never did quite the same thing again, but this led the way to his
+use of patterned concrete blocks a few years later.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two of Wright’s non-domestic works of this period are of considerable importance.
+Unity Church in Oak Park has already been mentioned; the other was the Larkin Administration
+Building in Buffalo, N.Y., of 1904. Massive and even sculptural externally,
+particularly at the ends, this had a tall glass-roofed court running down the centre,
+around which the upper ranges of offices extended on galleries carried by somewhat
+Sullivanian piers. All the fittings of the offices, including the steel furniture—probably
+the first to be designed by an architect—were Wright’s. Thus he set here a wholly new
+standard of elegance, consistency, and coherence in semi-industrial building.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Within the massive slab-roofed block of the Unity Temple (Plate <a href='#pl143b'>143<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), which is
+echoed beyond a low entrance link by the smaller block of the Sunday School, Wright
+achieved even more notably than inside the Larkin Building a new sort of monumental
+space-composition such as even his biggest houses hardly provided room for. The square
+auditorium with incut corners has double galleries on three sides and a pulpit platform
+on the fourth, behind which rises the organ. The multiple spatial elements seem to cross
+one another at different levels in a sort of three-dimensional plaid. Moreover, this theme
+is echoed in all the minor features, such as the wood stripping of the sand-finished
+plaster walls and the prominent lighting fixtures. Of this spatial development there had
+been some premonition in the auditorium block at one end of the Hillside House School
+that he built for his aunts outside Spring Green, Wis., in 1902; but there the masonry of
+the exterior walls and piers was still rather Richardsonian and the internal gallery
+consisted of a square set lozenge-wise.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright’s work down to 1910 was made available to Europeans by two publications
+of Wasmuth, the Berlin publisher; and the end of the first decade of the century does,
+coincidentally, mark a real turning point in his career. He would not be so prolific again
+before the forties; and henceforth, although he never ceased to build houses, these
+would no longer constitute the bulk of his production.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The production of the next decade, after his return from Europe in 1911, opens with
+two houses, however. Taliesin, which he built outside Spring Green for his mother in
+1911, was soon much enlarged when he moved there himself and it always remained
+his principal residence. As a result of the growing needs of his family and of his school—not
+to speak of two major fires in 1914 and 1925—the Taliesin of today is very different,
+above all in its endless ramification, from what he planned in 1911; but the vocabulary
+of materials and design stayed more or less constant through all the years. Where the
+Prairie Houses echoed in their horizontal lines the flat Illinois terrain on which most
+of them were set, Taliesin is wrapped around a hill-top just below the crest. The use of
+various levels in the interior and a landscape-like elaboration of the low-pitched roofs
+represent his response to this more interesting site; after that the ‘Prairie’ master avoided
+flat sites for houses whenever he could!</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Taliesin, combining a house, drawing-office, living accommodation for apprentices,
+and even farm buildings, had from almost the first a complex plan not readily definable
+as square, cruciform, or unilinear. But in a project of the same year 1911 in which Taliesin
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>was originally built, that for the S. M. Booth house at Glencoe, Ill.—never executed,
+unfortunately, according to these plans—a new sort of organization appeared, related to
+the elaborated cube of the Gale house and also to the ‘zoned’ scheme of the Coonley
+house. A two-storey living-room was to provide both the spatial and the plastic core;
+from this wings serving different purposes would shoot out swastika-like.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The relative homogeneity of Wright’s production in the first decade of the century,
+following after the gradual convergence of his early work during the nineties, is explained
+by the nearly identical problems and sites that he faced in designing the houses
+mentioned so far. This homogeneity now gave way to an increasing variety that makes
+it difficult to summarize the work of these years. The Coonley Playhouse, built on the
+Coonley estate at Riverside in 1912, bears little resemblance to the original house of
+four years earlier. The plan is cruciform and symmetrical; but what is new here is the
+way the slab roofs, set at two different levels and pierced through their wide projections
+in order to let light reach the windows below, were used to achieve an even more boldly
+sculptural quality than in the project of 1902 for the Yahara Boat Club or the Gale house
+of 1909. Wright’s mastery of abstract decoration was wholly mature by this time. From
+the first he had used leaded glass in simple geometrical patterns in his windows,<a id="r408"></a><a href='#f408' class='c025'><sup>[408]</sup></a> but the
+windows in this playhouse are the finest of all. Moreover, these festive compositions of
+circles of coloured glass arranged asymmetrically resemble quite closely the abstract
+paintings that such artists as Kupka, Delaunay, and the Constructivists would shortly
+be producing in Europe.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Northome, the F. W. Little house at Wayzata, Minn., of 1913, is also quite different
+from all the earlier houses, yet not at all similar to the Coonley Playhouse. Raised on a
+ridge above the southern shore of Lake Minnetonka, this house consists of a series of
+pavilions—some open, some closed—strung along a single axis parallel to the water’s
+edge. That containing the living room, which is of almost monumental size and scale,
+dominates the whole. Wright seemed able now to invent a new mode almost with every
+individual commission, each one with potentialities as great as those of the Prairie
+Houses he had so thoroughly exploited in the decade before 1910.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The major work of the immediate pre-war years, the Midway Gardens of 1913-14
+on the Midway south of Chicago, is rather hard to define precisely. Not quite a beer
+or <i>Heuriger</i> garden, nor yet a music-hall or cabaret in the ordinary European sense, the
+establishment consisted of a large outdoor dining and entertainment area with raised
+terraces on two sides, a stage and orchestra shed at the far end, and a closed restaurant
+block towards the street. Here Wright’s ambitions as a decorative artist could have free
+play. Abstract compositions of coloured circles like those in the windows of the Coonley
+Playhouse appeared here as wall-high murals at the ends of the covered restaurant.
+Moreover, the sculptural implications of the general composition of the playhouse were
+carried farther in the openwork ‘constructions’ that he set on the tops of the towers. At
+the same time he introduced a great deal of figurative sculpture stylized in a rather Cubist
+way. Thus several different aspects of the abstract and near-abstract art which was just
+coming into independent existence in Europe were closely paralleled in the adjuncts to
+Wright’s architecture here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>More architectonic patterns produced by simple geometrical means also ran riot at
+the Midway Gardens. Notable and significant was the use of extensive areas of patterned
+concrete blocks; these were somewhat like the patterned upper walls of the Coonley
+house of 1908 but all monochrome. The early demolition of the Midway Gardens makes
+it difficult to know whether this tremendous elaboration of the decorative aspects of
+Wright’s architecture was symphonic or cacophonous in total effect. Whatever the
+degree of their success or their failure, however, they opened a sort of ‘Mannerist’ or
+‘Baroque’<a id="r409"></a><a href='#f409' class='c025'><sup>[409]</sup></a> period in his career that was destined to last for more than a decade.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>During the First World War, in 1915, Wright was approached by emissaries of the
+Japanese Imperial Household to design and build the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo. Proceeding
+to Japan, Wright was largely concerned with this commission for the next seven
+years, finally bringing it to completion in 1922. This is the principal production of his
+‘Baroque’ phase. It was also a notable engineering triumph, for his ingenious use of
+concrete slabs carried on a multitude of concrete piles brought it safely through the
+earthquake of 1923. Paul Mueller, the engineer of the old Adler &amp; Sullivan office, was
+his collaborator here.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Abstract ornament proliferated on the hotel; some of it, carved in greenish lava,
+elaborates the garden courts of the vast
+<span class="sans">H</span>-shaped
+plan; still more is painted in gold and
+colour on the ceilings of the principal interiors. Moreover, the massive proportions of
+the masonry walls produce an effect of castle-like solidity wholly inexpressive of the
+method of their support and very far removed from the light and floating character of
+the Prairie Houses. On the whole this hotel represents, far more than the Midway Gardens,
+a cul-de-sac in Wright’s development.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Overlapping the period of construction of the Imperial Hotel came a series of houses
+in southern California in which the ‘Baroque’ element was gradually restrained. The
+earliest of these, Hollyhock House in Los Angeles and two smaller houses near by, were
+built for Aline Barnsdall in 1920 on a large estate bounded by Sunset and Hollywood
+Boulevards, Edgemont Street, and Vermont Avenue. These are of poured concrete very
+massively handled and carry considerable abstract sculptural ornamentation. For a
+slightly later series of four houses around Los Angeles, beginning with the house of 1923
+for Mrs G. M. Millard at 645 Prospect Crescent in Pasadena, Wright developed a type of
+concrete-block construction with reinforcement in the joints that was of considerable
+technical interest and also offered special decorative possibilities. The idea of using concrete
+blocks cast with relief patterns of geometrical character goes back to the Midway
+Gardens, however, and walls covered with repeating ornamental units had first appeared
+at the Coonley house.</p>
+
+<div id='i327'  class='figright id006'>
+<img src='images/i327.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 40. Frank Lloyd Wright: Pasadena, Cal., Mrs G. M. Millard house, 1923, plans</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the Millard house, particularly, the scale of the moulded blocks and the ingenious
+inclusion of pierced units—very similar to the pre-cast elements that Perret was using
+for the screen walls of his Le Raincy church at just this time—produced a masterpiece
+(Plate <a href='#pl144'>144</a>). This house, however, is not solely of interest for its construction and its
+decoration. In contrast to the horizontal composition of almost all his earlier houses except
+that in Racine for the Hardys, this is a tall vertical block, entered at the middle level,
+with the dining room and kitchen below and the two-storey living room opening out
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>to a balcony at the front (Figure <a href='#i327'>40</a>). The main bedroom is reached from a gallery overhanging
+the rear of the living-room. Both organizationally and visually this represents a
+surprising change, and the result closely resembled what a leading architect of the second
+generation had just then been proposing in Europe (Figure <a href='#i369'>45</a>). There are, for instance,
+no hovering eaves here; instead a parapet
+continues the wall plane upwards and confines a
+roof terrace. This is as close as Wright ever came
+to building a ‘box-on-stilts’, his term of abuse for
+the advanced European houses of the twenties. It
+was as if, after the expansiveness of his work
+from the Midway Gardens to Hollyhock House,
+Wright wished to prove here his capacity to produce
+a house modest in scale and compact in
+section as well as in plan.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the next decade, from 1924 to 1934, Wright’s
+actual production declined almost to zero although
+he was working on a series of important
+projects, some of which later provided the basis
+for executed buildings. Taliesin was rebuilt after
+a fire in 1925, however—it had already been
+rebuilt once before after an earlier fire in 1914—and
+a large house of concrete blocks, with almost
+no use of pattern except for occasional pierced
+grilles, was erected for his cousin Richard Lloyd
+Jones in 1929 at 3700 Birmingham Road in Tulsa,
+Okla. That is about all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The small M. C. Willey house of 1934 at 255
+Bedford Street, S.E., in Minneapolis marked the
+beginning of what proved to be almost a
+second career for Wright. Low and
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped,
+with practically no ornament whatsoever, this modest brick house
+introduced a major change in domestic planning. Not only are the
+living room and the dining room completely unified, as was first done
+at the Glasner house in 1905, but the kitchen—now re-christened
+‘work-space’—opens into the main living area behind a range of glazed
+shelves (Figure <a href='#i328'>41</a>). Thirty years later the full implications
+of this development are still not quite digested in America or even
+fully apprehended abroad; on the contrary, a reaction from open
+planning has perhaps begun.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not the Willey house, however, modest in size and very quiet in expression for
+all its revolutionary plan, that signalized the renewal of Wright’s activity. That he could
+take up his career again at the highest level of creativity became apparent to everyone
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>with the construction of two much larger buildings both designed in 1936. Falling
+Water, a large house in the Pennsylvania woods, is cantilevered over a waterfall with a
+sense of drama even Wright had never hitherto approached. The Administration Building
+for the S. C. Johnson Wax Company at 1525 Howe Street in Racine, Wis., his first
+semi-industrial commission since the Larkin Building of 1904, was built in 1937-9. Both
+are as remarkable for the technical boldness of their use of concrete—totally different in
+the two cases—as for their design.</p>
+
+<div id='i328'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i328.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 41. Frank Lloyd Wright: Minneapolis, M. C. Willey house, 1934, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Falling Water has a rear section built of rough stone which rises like a tower from the
+native rock on the banks of Bear Run. From this solid vertical core are cantilevered out
+a series of concrete slabs bounded by plain parapets at their edges. This produces a very
+complex horizontal composition related to, but infinitely elaborated from, that of the
+Gale house of 1909 (Plate <a href='#pl145a'>145<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The completely unified living space is closed in by stone
+walls on the inner or dining side. It also extends out over the waterfall; the all-glass
+walls on that side, with their thin metal mullions, hardly seem to separate the interior
+space at all from that of the open terraces outside. A similar relationship exists between
+the bedrooms and their terraces on the upper floors.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Never before had Wright exploited the structural possibilities of concrete so boldly.
+In this amazingly plastic composition—if ‘plastic’ be the word for anything so light and
+suspended in appearance—it seems as if he had determined to outbid the European architects
+of the second modern generation at their own games (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). His early
+work has, in the clarity and axial character of the organization and the serenity of its expression,
+a classic if hardly a Classical quality; his work of 1914-24 shows a Baroque
+exuberance in the proliferation of the ornament. Now that he was approaching seventy
+his Romantic or anti-Classical tendencies—call them what you will—reached an intensity
+of purely architectonic expression comparable to the musical intensity of the late quartets
+of Beethoven that Wright so much admired. Falling Water, which might easily have
+been the swan song of Wright’s career, soon to be halted again by a second World War,
+proved in fact but the opening <i>allegro</i> in a new period of innovation and experiment.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Johnson Building is very different from Falling Water. In it the curve rather than
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>the cantilever provides the principal theme, and enclosure rather than interpenetration
+of exterior and interior space controls both the planning and the design (Plate <a href='#pl146a'>146<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+The main office area is tall and unified, but it is filled with a forest of inverse-tapered
+concrete piers rising from tiny bronze shoes to carry circular slabs of concrete whose
+edges all but touch. The spaces between these lilypad-like disks were filled with tubes of
+Pyrex glass, and bands of similar tubes are carried around the building below the balcony
+and at the top of the plain red brick walls to provide additional natural light. In the
+more specialized adjuncts to the general office area curved and diagonal plan-elements
+lend a machine-like elegance to the shape of the building as a whole. Additional bands of
+glass tubing interrupt the smooth and continuous masonry surfaces at intervals, thus
+clearly indicating that these portions are of several storeys.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Falling Water and the Johnson Building were large and expensive structures; so also
+was Wingspread, the H. F. Johnson house that Wright built in Racine at the same time.
+This is zoned in the manner of the Booth project of 1911 around a tall central core. But
+in 1937 Wright also erected the first of what he called his ‘Usonian’ houses, the Herbert
+Jacobs house at Westmorland, near Madison, Wis. This modest
+<span class="sans">L</span>-shaped
+dwelling, with
+wooden ‘sandwich’ walls and a flat wooden slab roof, carried farther than the Willey
+house the integration of the ‘work-space’ or kitchen with the main living area. Here
+this rises in a masonry tower and is lighted by a clerestory, yet it is closely related to the
+space of the interior as a whole. A very considerable range of Wright’s later houses are
+variants of the Usonian model. Some were built before the War, even more in the last
+decade; some are of modest dimensions like the Jacobs house, others much larger. They
+exist in all parts of the United States, including the East, where he had hardly worked at
+all before this time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The earlier Usonian houses were designed on a square module. This is true, for
+example, of the version that he prepared for <i>Life</i> magazine in 1938,<a id="r410"></a><a href='#f410' class='c025'><sup>[410]</sup></a> which thereby received
+the same sort of national circulation that the <i>Ladies Home Journal</i> gave to three of
+his projects more than a generation earlier.<a id="r411"></a><a href='#f411' class='c025'><sup>[411]</sup></a> But Wright was now interested also in
+developing the hexagon and the triangle as basic units. Beginning with the Hanna house
+of 1937 at 737 Coronado Street in Palo Alto, Cal., he continued in many others to
+explore the possibilities of planning based on 60-30-degree angles.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the most extraordinary house that he built in these pre-war years, his own winter
+residence, Taliesin West, begun in 1938 in the desert outside Phoenix, Ariz., 45-degree
+diagonals are used in the planning and almost all the structural elements are battered or
+canted. However, it is the materials which give this edifice—like Taliesin itself at once a
+house, a working place, and a school—its unique qualities. The substructure is of ‘desert
+concrete’, that is great rough blocks of tawny local stone placed in forms and loosely
+stuck together, so to say, with concrete; the superstructure is of dark-stained timber
+frames mostly filled only with canvas to allow a maximum flow of air. As at the original
+Taliesin in Wisconsin, Wright kept on enlarging Taliesin West, not always to its advantage.
+Another example of ‘desert-concrete’ construction, the Rose Pauson house of
+1940 in Phoenix, was destroyed by fire. It was, in its very sculptural way, a masterpiece
+of this period unlike anything else he ever built and is still an impressive ruin.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>It was characteristic of Wright’s activity in his ‘second’ career that the versatility of his
+invention knew no bounds. Many earlier ideas that had existed only in projects could
+come to fruition now that his services were in such demand. At the same time it is hard
+to believe that in the plain white stucco walls, extensive window bands, and thin roof
+slab of the E. J. Kaufmann guest house, built just above Falling Water in 1939, or in
+the G. D. Sturges house of the same year at 449 Skyway Road in Brentwood Heights
+near Los Angeles, cantilevered out from a hill-slope, Wright was not consciously rivalling
+the effects of the European architects of the second generation whom he professed
+to scorn—rivalling them, but also making very much his own such of their effects as he
+cared to emulate.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wright did not drop the novel methods of construction that he had developed earlier
+as he tried out new ones. In his most extensive late commission, the layout of a new
+campus for Florida Southern College at Lakeland in Florida, begun in 1938, the plan
+is highly formal at the same time that it is markedly asymmetrical. It thus elaborates
+upon the angular themes of his project of 1927 for a desert resort at Chandler, Arizona—incidentally
+the point at which his interest in 60-30-degree angles began. The buildings
+at Florida Southern, starting with the Ann Pfeiffer Chapel of 1940 to which many
+more were later added, are mostly of concrete-block construction, but with much less
+use of patterned elements than in the executed work and projects of the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Second World War interrupted Wright’s career less than the First. Various projects
+initiated in the war years came to fruition soon after the war was over and gave
+evidence of the continuing vitality of his powers of invention. The second house for
+Herbert Jacobs at Middleton in the country west of Madison, Wis., was very different
+from the Usonian one of 1937. Ever since an unexecuted house project of 1938 Wright
+had been fascinated by the possibilities of using the circle in planning. While he had
+tried out the form in the Florida Southern Library before the war, the Jacobs house
+of 1948 was the first of a series of houses that he built with curved plans. Its two-storey
+living area bends around a circular sunken garden court with the bedrooms
+opening off a balcony above (Figure <a href='#i331'>42</a>). On the other side the house is half buried in
+the hill-top, above which rise its walls of coursed rubble. A tower-like circular core
+near one end of the convex side provides a strong vertical accent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Another house of the post-war years, also based on the circle, is quite different in
+character. The Sol Friedman house in Pleasantville, N.Y., is roofed with mushroom-like
+concrete slabs; the two intersecting closed circles of the actual dwelling are balanced at
+the end of a straight terrace parapet by the open circle of the carport (Plate <a href='#pl145b'>145<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+This was completed in 1949 with battered walls of almost Richardsonian random ashlar
+masonry below a strip of metal-framed windows. A still later ‘house of circles’ for his
+son David J. Wright was built near Phoenix, Ariz., in 1952. This is of concrete blocks
+and raised off the ground, with the approach up a gently sloping helical ramp to the
+various curved rooms on the first storey. The circle and the helix appear also in an urban
+building of these years, the shop for V. C. Morris in Maiden Lane, San Francisco, completed
+in 1949. Here the street façade is a sheer plane of yellow brick broken only by the
+entrance, which is a Sullivanian—or Richardsonian—arch like that of the Heurtley house
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>of 1902. Inside, a helical ramp rises around the central circular area beneath a ceiling
+made of bubble-like elements executed in plastics.</p>
+
+<div id='i331'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i331.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 42. Frank Lloyd Wright: Middleton, Wis., Herbert Jacobs house, 1948, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>A major work of these years, the extension of the Johnson Administration Building in
+Racine, Wis., also completed in 1949, makes much use of circles also (Plate <a href='#pl146a'>146<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). North
+of the existing office building Wright surrounded a square court with open carports
+whose outer walls of solid brickwork shut out the surrounding city; inside these walls
+are ranged short concrete columns with lily-pad tops like those in the section that he
+built ten years earlier. In the centre of the ‘piazza’ thus defined rises a laboratory tower
+of tree-like structure. The upper floors of this, alternately square with rounded corners
+and circular, are all cantilevered out from a central cylindrical core which contains the
+lift and the vertical canalizations. Alternate bands of brickwork and Pyrex tubing,
+such as were used on the original building, enclose the tower except at ground level;
+there the space of the court continues under the cantilevered floors above as far as the
+solid central core.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This relatively modest tower prepared the way for Wright’s skyscraper in Bartlesville,
+Okla., of 1953-5, which has been mentioned earlier. Actually, however, this Price
+Tower,<a id="r412"></a><a href='#f412' class='c025'><sup>[412]</sup></a> which is partly occupied by offices and partly by flats, is the final realization of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>a project originally prepared in 1929 for a block of flats for St Mark’s Church in New
+York. This he had elaborated in the intervening years in projects for blocks of flats in
+Chicago and for a hotel in Washington.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>While Wright was continuing to employ in his houses of the late forties and early
+fifties a variety of modes of design that go back to the thirties, and also developing at
+Florida Southern and in Bartlesville ideas dating from his inactive period in the late
+twenties, he continued to strike out in other directions too. The Neils house at 2801
+Burnham Boulevard on Cedar Lake in Minneapolis, Minn., completed in 1951, is all of
+coloured marble rubble provided by the client; the Walker house at Carmel, Cal., completed
+in 1952, is a glazed polygonal pavilion overhanging the sea. Where the Prairie
+Houses of the first decade of Wright’s mature career may all seem in retrospect to have
+come out of the same, or nearly identical, moulds, the many houses designed in his
+seventies and eighties are notable for the great variety of their siting, their materials, and
+the geometrical themes of their planning.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nor was the domestic field anything like the sole area of his activity. In addition to
+the college buildings, the shop, the skyscraper, and the laboratory that have been mentioned,
+Wright built during the years 1947-52 a Unitarian church in Madison, Wis., of
+very original character. The products of his multifarious activity in these years include,
+moreover, many projects for all sorts of structures, some of which have been completed—notably
+the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum in New York (Plate <a href='#pl188a'>188</a>). A
+decade and more of designing and redesigning preceded the initiation of this
+remarkable helical concrete building in 1956. Of three other late projects, those for an
+opera-house in Baghdad and for an Arizona state capitol in Phoenix, dating from 1957,
+are unlikely to be built; but the county buildings for Marin County, Cal., are now
+well advanced.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In spite of so much late activity, greater than that of his early maturity, in spite (or
+perhaps, in part, because) of its kaleidoscopic variety, Wright’s actual influence was less significant
+than forty years before; at least it was of a very different order. He still outpaced
+his juniors both of the next generation and the one after; but few if any were able to
+follow with any success along the intensely personal paths he opened.<a id="r413"></a><a href='#f413' class='c025'><sup>[413]</sup></a> Like Perret to
+the end of his life, Wright continued at ninety to offer an inspiration to all architects,
+but there has risen no school of imitators to vulgarize his manner as there was long a
+school of imitators of Perret in France.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In creative power, in productivity, and, over the forty years and more since 1910, in
+influence, Wright overshadowed all the other American architects of his generation. Inspired
+by Wright as well as by Sullivan, there flourished for a while a sort of ‘Second
+Chicago School’ to which Purcell &amp; Elmslie; George W. Maher (1864-1926); Schmidt,
+Garden &amp; Martin, and several other architects who were active in the Middle West
+before the First World War may be considered to belong.<a id="r414"></a><a href='#f414' class='c025'><sup>[414]</sup></a> But this school flickered out
+in the twenties as most of its members succumbed to the dominant ‘traditionalism’ of
+the day or else ceased to find clients.<a id="r415"></a><a href='#f415' class='c025'><sup>[415]</sup></a> Four rather more vital and original architects
+appeared shortly after 1900 in California: the brothers Greene (Charles S., 1868-1957, and
+Henry M., 1867-1954), Irving Gill (1870-1936), and Bernard R. Maybeck (1862-1957).<a id="r416"></a><a href='#f416' class='c025'><sup>[416]</sup></a>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>But the productive careers of the Greenes, of Gill, and, to a lesser extent, that of Maybeck
+came pretty much to a close, like those of the Chicagoans, around 1915 with the
+resounding success of the ‘traditional’ buildings designed by Bertram G. Goodhue
+(1869-1924) for the San Diego Exhibition of that year.<a id="r417"></a><a href='#f417' class='c025'><sup>[417]</sup></a> These were in the most ornate
+sort of Spanish Baroque, quite archaeologically handled; and the emulation of them,
+which at once became endemic in California, turned most local architects away from
+innovation for almost twenty years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Maybeck, who had been a graduate of the École des Beaux-Arts in the eighties, contributed
+to the San Francisco Exhibition<a id="r418"></a><a href='#f418' class='c025'><sup>[418]</sup></a> of the same year the still extant Fine Arts Building
+in an equally ‘traditional’ but more Classical vein. Partly ruined today, his tawny
+stucco columns and entablatures have the air of a painting by Pannini or Hubert Robert.
+For all its charm, this was a surprising work to come from a man who had earlier shown
+himself, in the Christian Science Church of 1910 in Berkeley, Cal., almost as bold an
+innovator as Wright even though he employed for that a fantastically eclectic vocabulary
+of reminiscent forms (Plate <a href='#pl146b'>146<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Many Berkeley houses, moreover, ranging
+over several decades in date, also prove Maybeck to have been an architect of great
+originality and surprising versatility.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Berkeley also are several houses by John Galen Howard (1864-1931) as well as his
+building for the University of California’s School of Architecture, of which he was for
+long the Dean. His building at the University (which has in addition a Faculty Club and
+one or two other things by Maybeck), the Gregory house of about 1904, and the architect’s
+own house of 1912 are also notable examples of free design dating from the first
+decades of the century. Howard’s informal work is more directly related than are
+Wright’s houses to the Shingle Style of the preceding period, though not specifically to
+that of Richardson, for whom, however, Howard had actually worked in the mid
+eighties before he came to California. Most of his work at the University, in fact, is
+in an Italianate vein, and the campus is dominated by his tall, campanile-like clock tower.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The production of the Greene brothers in this period, entirely domestic and largely in
+Pasadena, offers a more coherent corpus than that of any modern American architect of
+their generation except Wright. Related, like the work of Howard, to the Shingle Style,
+which had been brought to Pasadena and Los Angeles by Eastern architects in the
+eighties and nineties, the Greenes’ houses are most interesting for their successful
+assimilation of oriental influences. The best example is the Gamble house at 4 Westmorland
+Street in Pasadena of 1908-9 (Plate <a href='#pl147a'>147<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But the Pitcairn house of 1906 and the
+Blacker house of 1907, at 289 West State Street and at 1157 Hillcrest respectively, as
+well as the later Thorsen house of 1909, at 2307 Piedmont Avenue in Berkeley, now a
+fraternity house, are also excellent.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Shingled walls, low-pitched and wide-spreading gables, and extensive porte-cochères
+and verandas of stick-work surpassing in virtuosity those of the Stick Style,
+were combined by the Greenes in rather loosely organized compositions. Less formal
+and regular than Wright’s Prairie Houses, theirs are executed throughout with a
+craftsmanship in wood rivalling that of the Japanese, whom they, like Wright, so much
+admired. The Greenes’ plans are less open than Wright’s, but they made more use
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>of verandas and balconies than he. Superb woodwork and fine stained glass combine
+with the specially designed furniture in the interiors to produce ensembles of a sturdy
+elegance hardly matched by any of Wright’s. Those in the Blacker and Thorsen houses,
+whose clients were both in the lumber business, are especially rich.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Moreover, a ‘California Bungalow’ mode<a id="r419"></a><a href='#f419' class='c025'><sup>[419]</sup></a>—at worst but a parody at small scale of
+the Greenes’ expensive mansions, at best sharing many of their virtues of directness and
+simplicity if not of imaginative craftsmanship—became widely popular thanks to
+national magazines, pattern-books, and the activities of many builders. This was true not
+alone in the West but throughout the country in the very years after 1910 when ‘traditionalism’,
+usually in Neo-Colonial guise, closed in most completely on American
+domestic architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The reputation of the Greenes today is less than that of the more articulate but less
+consistent Maybeck. But when modern architecture revived in California in the thirties
+the new men were fully aware of what the Greenes had accomplished. Thus their work
+provided, together with that of Maybeck and Howard, a background and a tradition for
+the local development of a largely autochthonous domestic architecture in the San
+Francisco Bay area. This was a truly living tradition<a id="r420"></a><a href='#f420' class='c025'><sup>[420]</sup></a> quite unlike the abortive revival
+of the architecture of the Spanish Missions, which it has now almost completely
+displaced. But the Mission influence was not altogether a negative one in early
+twentieth-century California, as the work of Irving Gill illustrates.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gill was less prolific than the Greene brothers, and most of what he built is less
+striking. Like Voysey, he was in principle a reformer not a revolutionary, finding his inspiration
+consciously in the local structural tradition of the early Spanish Missions and
+<i>haciendas</i>. As a result some of his buildings, such as the First Church of Christ Scientist of
+1904-7 in San Diego or in Los Angeles the Laughlan house of 1907 and the Banning
+house of 1911, at 666 West 28th Street and 503 South Commonwealth Avenue respectively,
+with their elliptically arched loggias and their grilles of ornamental ironwork,
+are almost as ‘Spanish Colonial’ as the work of the outright traditionalists
+around him.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gill’s most interesting and mature houses, thanks to their smooth stucco walls, large
+window areas, and avoidance of stylistic detail, can also have a deceptive air of being
+European rather than American and of a period some years later than that in which they
+were actually built. In his best work, such as the Dodge house (Plate <a href='#pl147b'>147<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) of 1915-16
+at 950 North Kings Road in Los Angeles or the Scripps house at La Jolla of 1917, now
+the Art Centre, the asymmetrically organized blocks, crisply cut by large windows of
+various sizes carefully sashed and disposed, with roof terraces or flat roofs above, more
+than rival the contemporary houses of the Austrian architect Adolf Loos (Plate <a href='#pl155a'>155<span class='fss'>A</span></a>)
+in the abstract distinction of the composition. They even approach rather closely the
+most advanced European houses of the next decade (see Chapters <a href='#ch21'>21</a> and <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gill’s interiors are especially fine and also quite like Loos’s. Very different from
+the rich orientalizing rooms designed by the Greenes, they are in fact more similar to
+real Japanese interiors in their severe elegance. The walls of fine smooth cabinet woods,
+with no mouldings at all, are warm in colour, and Voysey-like wooden grilles of plain
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>square spindles give human scale. The whole effect, in its clarity of form and simplicity
+of means, is certainly more premonitory of the next stage of modern architecture than
+any other American work of its period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gill continued to practise intermittently down into the thirties, but his finest work
+was done in the second decade of the century. He had little influence locally and still
+less nationally, yet his best houses extend very notably the range of achievement of the
+first generation of modern architects in America, even though his later production declined
+sadly in quantity and even in quality. Wright alone was able to renew his career
+successfully after the reaction against modern architecture that dominated America
+from coast to coast during the twenty years from the First World War to the mid
+thirties finally came to an end.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>
+  <h2 id='ch20' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 20</span><br />PETER BEHRENS AND OTHER GERMAN ARCHITECTS</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> pattern of architectural development in Germany in the early decades of this century
+was rather different from that in either France or the United States. No academy,
+native or foreign, no influences from the École des Beaux-Arts discouraged innovation;
+yet there was an early and general reaction against the whimsicality and the decorative
+excesses of the Art Nouveau at which most of the younger men had tried their hands
+before 1900. After the First World War, however, the example of Expressionism in
+painting and sculpture led many architects to excesses of another sort. Expressionism in
+architecture,<a id="r421"></a><a href='#f421' class='c025'><sup>[421]</sup></a> or something very close to it, is not restricted to Germany. The most
+extreme example of any consequence, and probably the earliest, is Dutch, the Scheepvaarthuis
+in Amsterdam of 1912-13 by van der Meij (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>). In Germany
+around 1920 various architects who had earlier been predominantly ‘traditional’ in their
+approach were influenced by Expressionism, as well as others who were already programmatically
+modern; nor was that influence restricted to the modern architects of
+the first generation (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+<p class='c010'>The boundary line between what, in retrospect, still seems definitely modern and
+what now seems very similar to the ‘traditional’ work of these decades in other countries
+is much less sharp than in America. And no German architect of their own generation
+had the continuously creative achievement of a Perret or a Wright to his credit. Nevertheless
+Peter Behrens stands out among his contemporaries because of the vigorous boldness
+of his industrial buildings. Moreover, the influence of his factories of around 1910
+was crucial on the next generation, and several of the later leaders actually worked in
+his office at that relevant period. Yet all but Behrens’s finest work can be matched in
+the production of other German architects; while his own vitality as an innovator was
+rather strictly limited to a few years and to what he did for one corporate client. That
+client was the A.E.G. (German General Electric Company), which had already employed
+Messel down to his death in 1909.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Messel and Ludwig Hoffmann (1851-1932) dominated the architectural scene in
+Berlin, where the latter was appointed City Architect in 1896 on the strength of his vast
+academic Imperial Law Courts of 1886-95 in Leipzig. In the early years of the century
+they both developed a formal mode that was more ‘traditional’ than modern. Despite
+Messel’s and Hoffmann’s usual preference for conventional sixteenth- or eighteenth-century
+models, Behrens was certainly not uninfluenced by their mode of design, even
+though his more positive sources of inspiration were of a less conservative order. Yet,
+in so far as one can sort out the different architectural camps in Germany in these years,
+Behrens must be considered well to the artistic ‘left’ of Messel and Hoffmann.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Germany was certainly very receptive to new ideas in decoration when Behrens’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>architectural career began at the turn of the century—receptive rather than creative. There
+were other Germans who handled the Art Nouveau with considerable originality besides
+August Endell, notably Bernard Pankok (b. 1872) and Richard Riemerschmid
+(1868-1957); but two foreigners, neither of them very prolific builders, seem to have
+been the most influential figures on the German architectural scene at the opening of the
+new century. The Belgian Van de Velde had moved from Paris to Berlin in 1899; the
+Austrian Olbrich was called to Darmstadt by the Grand Duke in the same year. Olbrich
+stayed at Darmstadt until his early death in 1908; Van de Velde, however, left Berlin in
+1902 when he was invited to Weimar to head the School of Arts and Crafts there which
+later became the Bauhaus. Van de Velde’s finest Art Nouveau furniture dates from his
+Berlin years around 1900. As late as 1906,<a id="r422"></a><a href='#f422' class='c025'><sup>[422]</sup></a> the Central Hall which he designed in the
+Dresden Exhibition showed him still a competent if rather heavy-handed decorator
+in the Art Nouveau tradition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Van de Velde’s remodelling of the Folkwang Museum at Hagen of 1900-2, quite
+Art Nouveau in its details, his Esche house at Chemnitz of 1903, and his Leuring
+house at Scheveningen in Holland of the next year, both very massive and heavily
+mansarded though unornamented externally like his own house of 1895-6 at Uccle,
+hardly require particular mention. However, for the school that he headed in Weimar
+he completed in 1906 a building even more devoid of Art Nouveau elements and notably
+straightforward in character. The plain white stucco walls below his usual heavy
+mansards were very frankly fenestrated with ranges of wide studio windows, perhaps
+in emulation of Mackintosh’s Glasgow Art School. Indeed, the general effect is even
+simpler and more rectilinear than that of its possible Scottish prototype. The problem
+of his responsibility or lack of responsibility for the design of the Théâtre des Champs
+Élysées in Paris of 1911-13 has already been discussed (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Van de Velde continued to build occasionally throughout all his long life—some
+portions of his Kröller-Müller Museum near Otterlo in Holland were only completed
+in 1953—but his last pre-war work was the theatre that he designed and executed in
+1913-14 for the Werkbund Exhibition at Cologne. Some trace of the massively plastic
+quality of his Dresden hall of 1906—so different from the delicacy and grace of the
+Art Nouveau in its best period—remained in the curved walls and roof of this edifice,
+but the whole effect was lighter and plainer, more abstract one might almost say.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The resemblance of Olbrich’s Ernst Ludwig Haus of 1901 at the Darmstadt Artists’
+Colony to Mackintosh’s Art School has already been noted (see Chapter <a href='#ch17'>17</a>). At Darmstadt
+he also continued to build houses for some years, and his work there culminated
+in the Exhibition Gallery and the Wedding Tower on the Matildenhöhe, erected in
+1907. The former was blocky and somewhat classicizing in character, at once very plain
+and very formal. The latter, of brick, had a more Hanseatic flavour because of its arched
+and panelled gable; but it also included a novel motif, bands of windows that seem to
+carry round a corner, that was destined to be very influential everywhere in the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the next and last year of Olbrich’s life—he died, it will be recalled, at the early age
+of forty-one—two important commissions came to him away from Darmstadt. The
+Feinhals house at Marienburg near Cologne repeats the blocky symmetrical composition
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>of the Exhibition Building, the walls being articulated only with flat oblong panels.
+The loggia between, however, has a range of Greek Doric columns, clear evidence
+of the influence of Romantic Classicism that was growing stronger in Germany all
+through this decade. But Olbrich had little real appreciation of the subtle elegance of
+the work of Schinkel and his contemporaries, or so it would appear from this house.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The buildings of the East Cemetery in Munich, designed by Hans Grässel (1860-?)
+in 1894 and completed in 1900, are perhaps the first examples of this sort of ‘Neo-Neo-Classicism’.
+Yet beside the contemporary Neo-Baroque of the Munich Palace of
+Justice built in 1897 by Grässel’s master, Friedrich von Thiersch (1852-1921), nearly as
+over-scaled and aggressive as Wallot’s Reichstag in Berlin, the rather Schinkelesque
+work at the cemetery appears, in its crispness and its relative simplicity, almost as
+‘modern’ as anything by Olbrich. As has been noted earlier, Schinkel remained a major
+inspiration to such a leader of the second generation of modern architects as Mies van
+der Rohe, so this influence has a continuing significance.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A much larger building by Olbrich than the house at Marienburg, also completed in
+the year of his death, the Tietz (now Kaufhof) Department Store in Düsseldorf, repeats
+the reiterative verticalism of those portions of Messel’s Wertheim store in Berlin that
+were built in 1900-4, though Olbrich’s detailing is not medievalizing like Messel’s but
+rather semi-Classical. Neither of these later things maintains the promise of his Ernst
+Ludwig Haus; they rather illustrate that general recession from bold innovation which
+characterized the architecture of this decade in Germany, a recession corresponding
+more or less closely to the general resurgence of ‘traditionalism’ in England and America
+that came a few years later (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Peter Behrens (1868-1940), only a year younger than Olbrich, began his career as an
+architect at Darmstadt. From 1896 on, before being called there, he had only done
+decorative work of a markedly Art Nouveau sort. In his own house in the Artists’
+Colony of 1900-1—the only one not built by Olbrich—the interiors are still quite Art
+Nouveau, but the clumsy exterior has little interest except as a document of revolt.
+Yet the plan is quite like that of Wright’s own house of 1889 in Oak Park, allowing a
+real flow of space through wide openings between entrance hall, living-room, and
+dining-room. By 1902 the ‘Hessian’ interior that he contributed to the Turin Exhibition
+was wholly rectilinear, presumably under the influence of Olbrich and Mackintosh.
+A similar severity characterized the work that he did, much of it merely open pergolas,
+for the Düsseldorf Garden and Art Exhibition of 1904.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By this time Behrens’s personal style was maturing, although his debt to Olbrich remained
+very evident. The Art Pavilion for the North-West German Art Exhibition held
+in Oldenburg in 1904 was a symmetrical composition of cubical masses, the flatness of
+their surfaces even more emphasized by linear panelling than in Olbrich’s work. The
+Obenauer house of 1905-6 at Sankt Johann near Saarbrücken is rather more loosely
+composed; indeed, its white stucco walls, slated roofs, and grouped windows distinctly
+recall Voysey’s houses, which were by this time very well known in Germany thanks
+to the <i>Studio</i> and Muthesius’s book. The garden front, however, is symmetrical and
+the plan not as open as that of his own house of four years earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>In Behrens’s next two buildings, the small Concert Hall in the Flora Garden at
+Cologne of 1906 and the large Crematorium at Delstern near Hagen completed the following
+year, the geometrical panelling in black and white, used both inside and out,
+recalls a little San Miniato in Florence. But the blocky geometry of the Oldenburg
+pavilion and its smooth flat surfaces were also repeated, so that both these buildings have
+a curiously model-like look as if they were made of sheets of cardboard.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Behrens’s two finest works up to this time, the Schröder house of 1908-9—no longer
+extant—and the Cuno house of 1909-10 in the Hassleyerstrasse at Eppenhausen near
+Hagen, have a much more solid appearance, with quarry-faced masonry below and
+roughcast walls above (Plate <a href='#pl148b'>148<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The symmetrical façades, which correspond to
+completely symmetrical plans, are at once more tightly and more subtly composed.
+Here English influence seems to have been superseded by an attempt, rather more successful
+than Olbrich’s at Marienburg, to emulate Schinkel. A third early house by
+Behrens, the Goedecke house at Oppenhausen of 1911-12, is equally formal but not
+symmetrical, recalling thus a little Schinkel’s Schloss Glienecke near Potsdam.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Somewhat similar to Behrens’s work of this period in its evident derivation from German
+Romantic Classicism, but more delicate in scale, was the work of Heinrich Tessenow
+(1876-1950), notably his Festival Theatre of 1910-13 and the other buildings he designed
+and erected for the Art Colony at Hellerau near Dresden. But such German work,
+of which a great deal was produced in the decade before the First World War, corresponds
+rather closely, despite the frequent stylization of detail and the serious concern
+with geometrical clarity in composition, to the Neo-Georgian of England and America
+in the early twentieth century, and also to much parallel work in the Scandinavian
+countries that is usually of rather higher quality (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Moreover, those Frenchmen who castigated the Théâtre des Champs Élysées as
+‘Boche’ during the First World War because of the presumption that it was designed by
+Van de Velde, born a Belgian but head of a German art school, were not altogether
+wrong. In its scraped Classicism and rigidly geometrical <i>ordonnance</i> Perret’s façade was
+not at all remote from one of the most characteristic German modes of the years just
+before 1914. Perret’s industrial work was, of course, much more significant for the future.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So also with Behrens it was the challenge that his position as architect of the A.E.G.
+brought of working in the industrial field that made him briefly a rival of Wright, and
+even more particularly of Perret, as a major architectural innovator. Behrens’s first work
+for the A.E.G., the Turbine Factory at the corner of the Hussitenstrasse and the Berlichingenstrasse
+in Moabit, an industrial suburb of Berlin, was erected in 1909 immediately
+upon his appointment as successor to Messel. This broke new ground in several ways. It
+was built partly of poured concrete, partly of exposed steel, with both materials very
+directly expressed (Plate <a href='#pl149a'>149<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The side wall of
+glass and steel more than rivals in its openness those of the
+department stores designed by Art Nouveau architects
+(Plates 131<span class='fss'>B</span> and 133). But Behrens’s façade, in
+contradistinction to
+theirs, has no applied ornament
+whatsoever. Moreover, he ordered the whole composition as carefully as Schinkel might
+have done if either large factories or metal-and-glass construction had come within his
+purview.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>The end façade of the Turbine Factory is slightly less frank in design. The concrete
+corners on either side of the central window-wall of metal and glass are battered and
+striated horizontally as if to suggest rusticated masonry. The gable of the multi-faceted
+roof is brought forward to shelter the window-wall; this projects slightly in front of the
+concrete corners, almost like a Shavian bay-window raised to industrial scale. The treatment
+of the window-bands of the lower concrete block to the left resembles that of
+Schinkel’s articulated walls on the Berlin Schauspielhaus, but with all the Greek mouldings
+omitted. Thus the functional elements of a factory executed throughout in new materials
+were here for the first time in Germany architectonically ordered with no dependence
+on decoration of any sort. Wright had done much the same four years earlier in his
+little-known E.-Z. Polish Factory in Chicago, but the scale of that is modest and its
+walls are not extensively fenestrated. Perret had come closer to it in his Garage Ponthieu
+in Paris, also built in 1905. There can be little question, however, that Behrens’s is the
+finest building of the three.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In two more factories built in 1910 for the A.E.G., both much larger but neither of
+them quite so striking, Behrens broadened his range as an industrial architect. The High
+Tension Factory in the Humboldthain is of brick, not concrete or steel. Except for a few
+minor elements somewhat suggesting pedimented temple-fronts translated into an industrial
+vocabulary, he handled the vast façades here with the same directness as the side
+elevation of metal and glass at the Turbine Factory. The Small Motors Factory in the
+Voltastrasse is similar but much finer (Plate <a href='#pl148a'>148<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). There the brick piers have rounded
+corners and rise unbroken almost the full height of the building. The effect is somewhat
+like that portion of Messel’s Wertheim Store which was built in the late nineties, but the
+scale is larger, and there is none of Messel’s rich, half-traditional, half-Art-Nouveau detailing.
+Instead, the careful proportioning and the suave but extremely straightforward
+treatment of the structural elements again suggests Schinkel’s sort of ‘rationalism’ yet
+succeeds in doing so, as at the earlier Turbine Factory, with almost no reminiscence of
+actual Romantic Classical forms.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Thanks to the widening range of responsibility that German industry was now ready
+to give architects, Behrens not only built these big factories for the A.E.G. and also
+redecorated their retail shops all over Berlin, but he was soon asked in addition to provide
+some blocks of flats for the company’s workmen at Hennigsdorf outside Berlin.
+This was a social challenge which neither Wright nor Perret had to meet. (In fact, however,
+Wright did in 1904 design terrace-houses that were never executed for Larkin
+Company workers in Buffalo; while in France low-cost housing had a very important
+place in Garnier’s projects for a ‘Cité Industrielle’.) Henceforth, such housing would
+be a major preoccupation of most modern architects. This is true not only in Germany
+but all over the western world, and especially in Holland and Scandinavia. The origins
+of low-cost housing go back to the 1840s in England when Henry Roberts, whose Fishmongers’
+Hall in London has been mentioned, became the first architect to specialize in
+this field. But the early history of housing<a id="r423"></a><a href='#f423' class='c025'><sup>[423]</sup></a> is of more sociological than architectural
+interest. Moreover, what the nineteenth century esteemed to be ‘model’ low-cost
+dwellings have too often had to be demolished as ‘sub-standard’ in the twentieth. Even
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>the interest and activities of present-day architects may not spare the twentieth century
+the shame of building again as a public service what posterity will consider slums.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Various small A.E.G. factories for making porcelain, lacquer, and other specialized
+products were also erected by Behrens in 1910 and 1911, none of particular interest.
+In 1911-12, however, there followed the Large Machine Assembly Hall at the
+corner of the Voltastrasse and the Hussitenstrasse near the Small Motors Factory. This
+rivals in quality the Turbine Factory of 1909. Once more a great rectangular volume is
+covered with a multi-faceted steel-framed roof, the structure below being in this instance
+also of steel with no use of concrete. The metal frame is largely filled with glass, but
+brick was introduced at the base and on the ends. The scale of this unit is less monumental
+than that of the Turbine Factory, though the size is much greater. The general effect,
+particularly that of the interior with its travelling cranes, is at once light and dramatic.
+A big A.E.G. plant was also built by Behrens at Riga in Russia in 1913.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Three large non-industrial commissions of 1911-12 show how this work for the
+A.E.G. affected Behrens’s approach to design. Although it is built of stone not brick, the
+German Embassy (Plate <a href='#pl027a'>27<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) opposite Monferran’s St Isaac’s Cathedral in Petersburg is,
+at first sight, deceptively like the Small Motors Factory. Actually, the façade has a range
+of engaged Doric columns, but by their tall slim proportions and their lack of entasis
+these were, so to say, ‘industrially’ stylized. The great scale, the absolute regularity, and
+a certain coldness surely derived in part from the factories of the previous two years; but
+these also recall Romantic Classical monuments of Alexander I’s time in Petersburg.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Behrens’s enormous office building for the Mannesmann Steel Works on the Rhine at
+Düsseldorf was less successful, as was also that for the Continental Rubber Company in
+Hanover. The latter was designed in 1911 and begun in 1913, but not completed until
+after the First World War, in 1920; it was destroyed in the Second World War. The
+heavily reiterative sort of scraped Classicism Behrens used for these overpowering
+masonry blocks lacked the subtlety of composition of the Hagen houses yet retained
+something of the directness of expression of the A.E.G. factories. They were not untypical,
+however, of much large-scale German building of the second and third decades
+of the century. This mode developed fairly directly out of the Berlin work of Messel
+and Ludwig Hoffmann, although it was usually much less specifically ‘traditional’ in its
+detailing and even more aggressive in scale; a not dissimilar mode returned to official
+favour under Hitler in the mid thirties, usually with very coarse detailing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With these big office buildings by Behrens and others one may compare the work of
+this period by various other German architects who preferred less classicizing modes.
+Early buildings by Fritz Schumacher (1869-1947), such as his crematorium in Dresden
+of 1908, also illustrate the megalomaniac tendencies of the period that seem so expressive
+of the expansive ambitions of William II’s Second Reich. The many schools
+that Schumacher built in Hamburg just before the First World War are simpler, although
+still rather heavily scaled, and more comparable in quality to Behrens’s work. One in
+particular, built in 1914 in the Ahrensburgerstrasse, almost echoes the elongated colonnade
+of Behrens’s Petersburg Embassy, but the ‘columns’ are plain piers executed in
+dark red brick<a id="r424"></a><a href='#f424' class='c025'><sup>[424]</sup></a> and strung along a front that is concave not flat. The bath-house at
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>Eppenhausen, also of 1914, is very like the schools; while in the Kunstgewerbe Haus of
+the previous year on the Holstenwall in Hamburg a similar mode was employed for
+what is, in effect, a large office building. This seems to have initiated a local tradition of
+design for commercial buildings which was maintained in the twenties with little
+change, not only by Schumacher but by several other Hamburg architects. Schumacher’s
+cemetery chapel, built as late as 1923, follows much the same line.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Stuttgart the railway station by Paul Bonatz (1877-1951) and F. E. Scholer
+(b. 1874) is the finest though not the largest of several built in Germany in these years.
+Designed in 1911, it was started only in 1914, just as the enormous and much less interesting
+one at Leipzig with its six parallel sheds, begun by Wilhelm Lossow (1852-1914)
+and M. H. Kühne in 1907, was reaching completion. That at Stuttgart was not
+finished until 1927 because of the interruption caused by the First World War. This
+structure has a rather Richardsonian flavour in its extensive unbroken wall surfaces of
+rock-faced ashlar and its plain round arches (Plate <a href='#pl152'>152</a>). But the influence here came
+rather from the Munich architect Theodor Fischer (1862-1938). Fischer’s Romanesquoid
+churches, such as that of the Redeemer in Munich of 1899-1901 and the Garrison Church
+of 1908-11 in Ulm, were among the largest and most strikingly novel built in the opening
+years of the century in Germany; in the latter he even used ferro-concrete principals
+to carry the roof of the nave. Fischer’s Art Gallery of 1911 in Stuttgart was both more
+delicate in scale and rather more archaeological in its detailing; Bonatz’s Stuttgart work
+is bolder, simpler, and quite as admirably expressive of the traditional materials used.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With the Stuttgart Station may be contrasted the rather earlier one at Hamburg that
+Heinrich Reinhardt (1868-?) and Georg Süssenguth (1862-?) built in 1903-6. There the
+major sections—shed, concourse, etc.—designed by the engineer Medling resemble
+rather closely Contamin and Dutert’s Galerie des Machines at the Paris Exhibition of
+1889. These great constructions of iron and glass fortunately quite overshadow the low
+ranges of accessory elements in masonry, with ornament still in the Meistersinger mode
+of the eighties, contributed by the architects. The differences between these two notable
+stations well illustrate that reaction towards masonry construction and a more or less
+traditional approach to design that was developing strength in the decade preceding the
+First World War. In the history of the railroad station as a type the Hamburg Hauptbahnhof
+represents, not a new beginning, but the end of a line descending from the
+great shed-dominated stations of the mid nineteenth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Intermediate in date between the Hamburg and Stuttgart stations was that at Karlsruhe
+built by August Stürzenacker in 1908-13. Although masonry construction and
+masonry forms dominate here as at Stuttgart, the simplification of mass and space composition
+throughout, and above all the elegant detailing, give evidence of the continuing
+leadership of Olbrich at the time of his death. Olbrich never built a station himself,
+but he won third place in the 1903 competition for that at Basel and second place
+in the 1907 competition for Darmstadt.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In other specialized fields of building a forward line of development is more evident.
+Two big circular halls, one in Frankfort built by Thiersch in 1907-8, the other in
+Breslau built by Max Berg (b. 1870) in 1910-12 (Plate <a href='#pl149b'>149<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), are more notable than the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>contemporary railway stations at Stuttgart and Karlsruhe. Like Behrens’s industrial
+work for the A.E.G., these structures illustrate the vital stimulus that German architects
+were obtaining in these generally somewhat reactionary years from the use of engineering
+solutions and materials other than masonry—steel at Frankfort, ferro-concrete at
+Breslau—to cover and enclose space. In the case of Thiersch this is the more remarkable
+when one remembers the ponderous traditionalism of his Neo-Baroque Palace of Justice
+in Munich built ten years before. While Berg on the exterior of his vast hall approaches
+the attenuated Classicism of Perret’s work of the next decade, the superb interior reminds
+one at once of Piranesi and of the much later structures of Nervi.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>German architects of this generation were rarely able to carry over into the designing
+of more conventional structures the boldness and freshness of approach of their large-scale
+work. They seem to have felt no such call to regenerate architecture as Wright had
+imbibed from Sullivan; nor did they, like Perret, attempt to use the new materials and
+the new structural methods consistently for all sorts of buildings whatever their particular
+purpose. German production before and after the First World War, as represented
+in the <i>œuvre</i> of such then highly esteemed figures<a id="r425"></a><a href='#f425' class='c025'><sup>[425]</sup></a> as Oskar Kaufmann (b. 1873),
+German Bestelmeyer (1874-1942), and Wilhelm Kreis (b. 1873), to mention but three
+of the best known, shades over almost imperceptibly from industrial and semi-industrial
+buildings of bold and original character to a range of structures in various tasteful modes
+that are, in retrospect, hardly distinguishable from the traditional work of this period in
+other countries. This has already been noted as regards Tessenow. Characteristic
+examples of these men’s work were Bestelmeyer’s extensions of the University and the
+Technical High School in Munich, of 1906-10 and 1922 respectively, both in the local
+tradition of Theodor Fischer’s work. The Museum of Prehistory in Halle that Kreis built
+in 1916 with K. A. Jüngst was more traditional even than Bestelmeyer’s work, although
+Provincial-Roman rather than Romanesque in inspiration.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As in England in the late nineteenth century, individual idiosyncrasies were much
+cultivated, and architects tended to specialize in particular types of buildings. Kaufmann,
+for example, had a very personal Neo-Rococo manner, delicate and frivolous, that he
+employed with real appropriateness in various Berlin theatres, notably the remodelling
+of the Kroll Oper and the Komödie, both carried out in 1924. But Behrens remains
+on the whole the most interesting and accomplished architect of this generation, whose
+opportunities for building were often to be even greater under the Weimar Republic
+in the early twenties than they had been under the Kaiser.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>No very great change is observable in Behrens’s work after the First World War.
+The terrace-houses that he built in 1918 for A.E.G. workers at Hennigsdorf, and the
+semi-detached dwellings of a low-cost housing estate for which he was responsible at
+Othmarschen near Altona in 1920 are simple and solid in construction, quite like those
+of before the war but more conservative in design. However, at this point comes a
+characteristic, though brief, change of phase that illustrates his ready response to influences
+from the new painting and sculpture of the day. In the big complex erected for
+the I. G. Farben Company in 1920-4 at Höchst Behrens gave up the direct expression of
+new industrial building methods characteristic of his A.E.G. factories of 1909-11. The
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>exterior was massive and almost medievalizing, even though the ranges of arches were
+of the unconventional parabolic form that seems to have appealed especially to Expressionist
+taste. In the tall glass-roofed court inside the angular forms of Expressionism were
+most strikingly evident; but he also introduced wholly abstract wall paintings and a few
+rather Constructivist lighting fixtures elsewhere in the reception rooms and offices. The
+result was, to say the least, ambiguous and incoherent, although the exterior was not
+unimpressive in its general effect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Expressionist influence had first appeared a little earlier than this in the work of other
+German architects, but it reached a peak in these years of the early twenties. In his pre-war
+industrial work Hans Poelzig (1869-1936) was not yet Expressionist. The chemical
+works that he built at Luban near Posen in 1911-12 rivalled in size and even in directness
+of expression—though not in distinction—Behrens’s factories for the A.E.G. After the
+war, however, Poelzig became a principal exponent of Expressionism in architecture.
+One of the earliest and most striking examples of Expressionist design on a large scale
+was his remodelling of the Grosses Schauspielhaus in Berlin in 1919. Here the cavernous,
+stalactite-ceilinged interior round the central circular stage was itself like an Expressionist
+stage-set and the planning implied a major revolution in dramatic presentation that
+never, in fact, quite came off. Yet his industrial work of the early twenties soon became
+much more straightforward again, and he later reverted to something very comparable
+to the stripped monumentality of Behrens’s Düsseldorf and Hanover office buildings.
+The most prominent extant example of this is the enormous I.G. Farben Company
+headquarters that he built in 1930 in Frankfort.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One can hardly leave the subject of Expressionism in German architecture, largely
+confined though its more extreme manifestations were to a very short post-war period
+of three or four years, without mentioning two more names, those of Fritz Höger
+(1877-1949) and Dominikus Böhm (1880-1955).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The twenties saw a few skyscrapers erected in Germany, none of them of the great
+height then current in America, but sometimes as conspicuous above the existing skyline
+as the first skyscrapers in New York had been in the seventies. The largest, though not
+the tallest, and certainly the most impressive was the Chilehaus, built by Höger in Hamburg
+in 1923, with its Schumacher-like piers of patterned brickwork and its upper three
+storeys receding behind narrow terraces (Plate <a href='#pl153a'>153<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). A large and irregular site encouraged
+the employment of a long double curve on the right-hand side of the hollow block,
+and the sharp angle at that end produced automatically a silhouette of the shrillest
+Expressionist order. Actually, however, Höger like other German architects was already
+returning by this time from earlier and wilder Expressionist adventures. To what extent
+he was aware of the skyscrapers of Sullivan is uncertain. The emphatically vertical
+scheme of design he used here, with arches linking the brick piers together below slab
+cornices, certainly suggests some knowledge of them, even though they were by this
+time all but forgotten in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Considerably taller than the Chilehaus, but not otherwise very distinguished, were
+two other German skyscrapers of the twenties. Kreis’s Wilhelm Marx Haus of 1924 in
+Düsseldorf, a thirteen-storey tower crowned with curious openwork tracery of inter-laced
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>brick, is still a conspicuous feature of the local skyline; but the Planetarium and
+associated buildings that he erected at the Gesolei there two years later are better
+examples of the fairly restrained mode that he and others usually employed in these
+years. The plainer and better proportioned seventeen-storey Hochhaus am Hansaring
+in Cologne was built in 1925 by Jacob Koerfer (b. 1875).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although only a few skyscrapers actually rose in European cities in the twenties, the
+theme nevertheless fascinated the younger architects. Many bold designs for them
+were projected, some of them of real significance for later developments in both the
+Old World and the New (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). The international competition for the
+Chicago Tribune Tower held in 1922, which many Europeans entered and the Finn
+Eliel Saarinen all but won, signally focused attention on a type of building hitherto considered
+unsuitable for the Old World, and generally accepted in Europe only in the
+1950s (see Chapters <a href='#ch21'>21</a> and <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The churches of Böhm, all of them Catholic, have a suavity that Höger’s work lacks,
+but at least equal forcefulness. The Suabian War Memorial Church of 1923 at Neu-Ulm
+is like an imaginative film-set of the period, being a sort of free fantasia on Gothic
+themes with little feeling of structural reality. But the boldest of Böhm’s churches, that
+he built at Bischofsheim in 1926, seems almost to take off from the engineer Freyssinet’s
+hangars at Orly. The paraboloid forms are here very frankly used; yet the concrete
+‘barrel’ vault of the nave, intersected by lower cross-vaults over the bays of the aisles,
+creates a strong emotional effect that is both Gothic and Expressionist in tone. The finest
+of his churches, however, may be Sankt Engelbert at Cologne-Riehl of 1931-3. This is
+circular in plan and very ingeniously roofed, not with a dome,<a id="r426"></a><a href='#f426' class='c025'><sup>[426]</sup></a> but with lobes of paraboloid
+barrel-vaulting.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>However, in a church built in 1929, Sankt Josef at Hindenburg in Upper Silesia, Böhm
+had already turned away from the emotionalism of his earlier work towards simple
+rectangular forms.<a id="r427"></a><a href='#f427' class='c025'><sup>[427]</sup></a> This simplicity he has maintained in his post-war churches, with the
+result that his last work, Maria Königin,<a id="r428"></a><a href='#f428' class='c025'><sup>[428]</sup></a> built at Marienburg outside Cologne in 1954,
+with its squarish plan, very slender metal supports, and side wall of glass, has very little
+churchly flavour left. Yet some of Böhm’s very late projects indicated that many of his
+ambitions of thirty years ago still remained with him to the end; they may well some day
+find effective expression at the hands of his son or of Rudolf Schwarz now that a more
+emotional approach to church-design has been revived internationally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Compared to such a French church of the twenties as Perret’s Notre-Dame at Le Raincy
+or such a Swiss church as Moser’s Sankt Antonius in Basel, both using concrete in the
+rectangular and skeletal mode usually preferred at that time, Böhm’s churches of the
+twenties once seemed semi-traditional rather than modern. One can now see, however,
+that there is a different and more emotive line of development in modern church
+architecture to which, for example, Gaudí’s unfinished churches at San Coloma and
+Barcelona belong, as do also such later Latin American examples in ferro-concrete as
+the Purísima at Monterrey in Mexico by Enrique de la Mora (b. 1907) of 1939-47,
+São Francisco at Pampulha in Brazil, built by Oscar Niemeyer (b. 1901) in 1943,
+Nuestra Señora de los Milagros in Mexico City by Felix Candela (b. 1910), completed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>in 1955, and several completed in the mid fifties by Juvenal Moya at Bogotá in
+Colombia<a id="r429"></a><a href='#f429' class='c025'><sup>[429]</sup></a> (see Chapters <a href='#ch23'>23</a> and <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). Expressionism may have been less of a cul de
+sac than its brief impingement on Behrens might lead one to suppose. Certainly it was
+a potent force for a few years after the First World War, and played then a significant
+role in breaking down the rule of ‘tasteful’ traditionalism inherited from the preceding
+decade.<a id="r430"></a><a href='#f430' class='c025'><sup>[430]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As the twenties progressed, however, and extreme Expressionist influence generally
+receded, Behrens gave evidence of his awareness of the quite different direction that
+modern architecture had just taken in the hands of certain younger men, several of
+whom had actually been his own pupils or at least his employees. In 1925-6 he built
+New Ways, a house in Northampton, England, for S. J. Bassett-Lowke, earlier a client
+of Mackintosh’s. With its smooth white stucco walls, horizontally grouped windows,
+and flat roof, this is of considerable historical interest, although of very little intrinsic
+merit.<a id="r431"></a><a href='#f431' class='c025'><sup>[431]</sup></a> No such advanced work had yet been done in England by local architects, and
+at this time only a very few houses of a comparably advanced character had been
+executed anywhere (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite his unusual openness of mind, which led Behrens in his fifties to attempt to
+rival juniors barely started on their careers—or, quite as probably, because of the lack of
+strong personal conviction of which this gives evidence—Behrens did not, like Perret
+and Wright in later life, continue to be very creative beyond this date. In Vienna, where
+he was called in the mid twenties to be professor of architecture at the Akademie, he
+settled into a sort of compromise mode. The low-cost housing blocks that he built in
+Vienna in 1924-5 on the Margaretengürtel, in the Stromstrasse, and in the Konstanziastrasse
+illustrate his characteristic uncertainty of direction in these years. If considerably
+sounder, they are also much less adventurous than the Bassett-Lowke house designed at
+almost the same time. This can be seen still more clearly at the Weissenhof in Stuttgart
+where many of the buildings of the German Werkbund’s housing exhibition held in
+1927 remain in use today. There Behrens’s block of flats stands very near one designed
+by the director of this exhibition, his former assistant Mies van der
+Rohe (Plate <a href='#pl162b'>162<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), and not far from houses by such other
+leaders of the new generation as Gropius, Le
+Corbusier—who had both worked in his office also—and Oud (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). The
+contrast between his massive block and their light and open structures is the more
+striking because Behrens here so evidently set out to meet his juniors more than half-way.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Behrens’s very latest work, the factory for the Austrian Tobacco Administration at
+Linz built in 1930 in association with Alexander Popp (b. 1891), was rather less conservative
+because of the nature of the commission. It is less mechanistic than the industrial
+work done so much earlier for the A.E.G., yet nonetheless impressive for its consistency
+of treatment and also for its human scale. The Linz factory provides a not unworthy
+concluding note to Behrens’s ambiguous career.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The vast productivity of the German architects of Behrens’s generation, both before
+and after the First World War, building in a boom which only came to a close around
+1930 with the world-wide depression, makes it difficult to choose specific examples
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>worth the emphasis of even brief mention. The situation is made no easier by the considerable
+versatility of most of the leading figures. Those few buildings that have been
+specifically mentioned—even most of Behrens’s own work except for his A.E.G. factories—should
+be considered typical of the upper level of German achievement in these
+decades rather than monuments of unique distinction like the best things done by Perret
+and by Wright in the same decades. Yet, it is worth noting, for a long time neither
+Wright nor Perret had much effect on the general scene in their own countries, for all
+the seminal effect of their influence on younger architects everywhere; while the Germans
+achieved a tremendous volume of what can be called ‘half-modern’ work that
+notably changed the whole character of several large cities. Thus the way was prepared
+for a very early and widespread acceptance of the next stage of modern architecture,
+an acceptance so premature that it induced in the thirties a sharp reaction.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1933 a regime rose to power in Germany with doctrinaire objections to the latest
+phase of modern architecture, ironically castigated as <i>Kultur-Bolschevismus</i> immediately
+after the Bolsheviks had rejected it as unacceptably bourgeois! As a result, the leaders of
+the younger generation almost all emigrated (see Chapter <a href='#ch23'>23</a>); while with few exceptions
+those German architects who remained at home turned backwards in their tracks, though
+not very far backwards. Most German production in the Nazi period is all but indistinguishable,
+indeed, from what was considered most advanced before the First World
+War and even for some years thereafter. Very little of it deserves specific mention. As
+was the case around 1910, the more nearly the structures were of an engineering order—as
+for instance Bonatz’s bridges for the Autobahn built over the years 1935-41—the less
+they were likely to be stylized along the heavy near-Classical or semi-medieval lines the
+later Imperial period had established as conventional a generation before. Even the
+housing that Bonatz built after the War in 1945-6 at Ankara in Turkey and his Opera
+House there of 1947-8 are hardly as advanced as his Zeppelinbau office building of
+1929-31 opposite the station in Stuttgart. Like Behrens at the same time, he had attempted
+there—with a certain amount of real success—to follow the ascetic principles of
+the younger generation that had just been so well illustrated at Stuttgart in the Werkbund
+Exhibition of 1927 on the Weissenhof (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Immediately after the Second World War there was for several years some continuing
+use of the modes of 1910, so to call them. This was natural because of the prolonged
+absence of most of the leaders of the intervening generation from the country—Gropius,
+Mies, and Mendelsohn never returned—and the renewed activity of so many of the
+older generation who had made their reputation in the period 1905-25 with which this
+chapter has chiefly dealt. Today it is as if Germany had lived through the stylistic
+developments of the twenties a second time, and now the newer sort of architecture is
+once again as ubiquitous there as it was in 1930.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These tidal waves of changing taste in Germany, each representing a sharp reaction
+against its predecessor, make difficult such a focusing of attention on a few creative and
+insurgent figures as gives dramatic pungency to the history of these decades in America
+and France. <i>Jugendstil</i>, <i>Expressionismus</i>, <i>Neue Sachlichkeit</i>,<a id="r432"></a><a href='#f432' class='c025'><sup>[432]</sup></a> these general movements,
+more than even so distinguished an individual as Behrens, are the real protagonists of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>the German story from 1900 to 1933; but in the international frame of reference they
+must be subordinated to the broader currents that dominated the architecture of the
+western world in the period. In that frame of reference the contribution of a few
+Austrians more than equalled that of the more prolific Germans, down at least to the
+First World War.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>
+  <h2 id='ch21' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 21</span><br />THE FIRST GENERATION IN AUSTRIA, HOLLAND, AND SCANDINAVIA</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> development of modern architecture in Austria between 1900 and the Nazi conquest
+has many connexions with that of Germany. The Austrian Olbrich had as much as
+anyone to do with setting off the reaction against the Art Nouveau in Germany after
+1900. From the mid twenties, Behrens was living in Austria, not in Germany. Even
+so, and particularly for the years before the First World War, there is a separate and
+purely Austrian story, more limited than the German story yet at least equally notable
+for highly distinguished achievement. Two Austrian architects at least, Otto Wagner
+and Adolf Loos (1870-1933), if not Wagner’s pupil Josef Hoffmann (1870-1956), were
+the equals of any of the leading German architects of their day, except perhaps Behrens.
+Wagner, already sixty in 1901, produced his finest work after that date. The Wiener
+Werkstätte, founded by Hoffmann in 1903, provided a centre of activity in the field of
+decoration comparable to what the Century Guild and the Arts and Crafts Exhibition
+Society had offered earlier in England. Above all, Loos—in part possibly because he,
+of all Europeans of his generation, knew American architecture best—demonstrated,
+from his earliest executed work of 1898, a determination to renew the art of building
+that was as revolutionary as Wright’s.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Soon after 1900 Wagner threw off all Art Nouveau influence. Yet the finest element
+in his masterpiece, the central hall of the Postal Savings Bank in the Georg Coch Platz
+in Vienna of 1904-6, still retains in the curvature of its glass roof and the tapering of its
+metal supports something of Art Nouveau grace (Plate <a href='#pl154b'>154<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The exteriors of this
+massive edifice are lightened by the very original treatment of the geometrically organized
+wall-planes; the thin plaques of marble which provide the sheathing suggest
+volume, not mass, and the delicate relief of the few and simple projections quite avoids
+the ponderousness of most contemporary German work. As in so much of the best German
+work, however, the severity of form and even the specific character of certain ornamental
+features reflect in a stylized way the Grecian mode of a hundred years earlier.
+This is somewhat surprising in Vienna, where Romantic Classicism had been on the
+whole both unproductive and uncreative, but doubtless Wagner knew Schinkel’s work
+as well as did Behrens—certainly his lightness of hand is more comparable to Schinkel’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not least interesting technically is the consistent employment of aluminium<a id="r433"></a><a href='#f433' class='c025'><sup>[433]</sup></a> in this
+building. The sculptured figures by Othmar Schimkowitz which crown the façade and
+the visible bolts that retain the granite and marble plaques are of this new metal; so also,
+apparently, are the structural members that support the glazed roof of the hall; at least
+they are completely sheathed with it. The large rear block of the bank dates from 1912,
+but the original vocabulary was retained by Wagner with only some slight simplification
+of the detailing of the plaquage.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>Sankt Leopold, the cruciform church that serves as the chapel of the Steinhof Asylum
+on the Gallitzinberg at Penzing outside Vienna, was built by Wagner in 1904-7 at the
+same time as the Postal Savings Bank. This crowns his extensive hillside layout of the
+whole establishment, comparable in scale to the French asylums of the mid nineteenth
+century, but for the other buildings he was not directly responsible. Sankt Leopold is
+a large domed monument inviting comparison with Schinkel’s Nikolaikirche at Potsdam.
+However, the linear stylization of the detailing inside and out brings to mind
+Olbrich’s and Behrens’s buildings of its own day. There is no paraphernalia of Greek
+orders, yet the conceptual organization of the elements is certainly in the Romantic
+Classical tradition, with the four arms each quite cubic and the hemispherical dome
+raised on a cylindrical drum. As at Schmidt’s Neo-Gothic Fünfhaus church of the
+1870s in Vienna, there are echoes of Fischer von Erlach’s Baroque Karlskirche here also,
+but the spirit is not at all Baroque. All the visible metalwork here, the sheathing of the
+dome, the statues of angels by Schimkowitz and of saints by Richard Luksch, and even
+the heads of the bolts that retain the marble plaques on the exterior walls, is of gilded
+bronze, not aluminium. This has not worn as well, for it has lost its gilt coating, peeled
+off many of the bolts, and streaked the walls with verdigris. Inside the church the mosaics
+by Rudolf Jettmar and the stained glass by Kolo Moser combine to rival the most
+sumptuous domestic ensembles produced by the Wiener Werkstätte, but the general
+effect, while light and even gay, still has a monumental dignity appropriate to a church.
+The walls are of plain white plaster, and narrow bands of geometrical ornament in gold
+and blue panel the cross vault—for, curiously enough, the central dome is not exploited
+internally.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Crisper in design and much simpler altogether than the Steinhof church are the blocks
+of low-cost flats that Wagner built in 1910-11 at 40 Neustiftsgasse and next door at
+4 Döblergasse. Their walls are covered with stucco lined off to suggest plaquage, and the
+decoration is reduced to thin bands of dark blue tiles that merely outline the surface
+planes. Needless to say, these blocks have not survived as well as the expensively built
+bank and church. Wagner’s last works, a hospital not far from the Steinhof Asylum and
+his own house at 28 Hüttelbergstrasse, both in Penzing and of 1913, are typical but rather
+less interesting.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Hoffmann’s first architectural work of any consequence, a Convalescent Home at
+Purkersdorf built in 1903-4, was already simpler than Wagner’s hospital of a decade
+later, if considerably less architectonic in effect. The plain white stucco walls are full of
+ample windows almost devoid of surrounding frames and very regularly disposed;
+cornices and other conventional elements of detail are either omitted or reduced to an
+absolute minimum. The result is a structure that would still look very fresh and crisp
+half a century later were it not, like Wagner’s flats, in shabby physical condition.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As Hoffmann’s founding of the Wiener Werkstätte indicates, he was at
+heart less an architect than a decorator, like so many of the leading
+English and Scottish designers of this period and the immediately
+preceding one. The important commission to build a large and extremely
+luxurious mansion on the edge of Brussels in 1905, the Palais Stoclet
+at 373 Avenue de Tervueren, gave his decorative ambitions a free rein
+(Plate <a href='#pl154a'>154<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>Yet the exterior of this has a good deal of the geometrical clarity of the Convalescent
+Home and rather more of Wagner’s architectonic values. The carefully
+ordered asymmetrical composition is dominated by the stair-tower, somewhat as the
+best Italian Villas of the previous century were dominated by their off-centre belvederes.
+The walls appear to be no more than thin skins of marble plaques, like Wagner’s, with
+the frequent and regularly spaced windows brought forward into the same surface plane.
+A decorative edging of gilded metal defines these smooth wall planes, giving the whole
+something of the fragile look of D’Aronco’s exhibition buildings. This is especially
+true of such a complex accent as the tower, with its tall stair-window.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Stoclet house, as finished after six years in 1911, has some very fine interiors, cold
+and formal but sumptuously simple in their use of various marbles. The marble is quite
+undecorated on the delicate rectangular piers in the two-storey stair-hall; but in the
+dining-room it carries inlaid patterns by Gustav Klimt of almost Art Nouveau elaboration.
+The effect is rather curious, somewhat resembling characteristic English interiors
+by Voysey and his contemporaries carried out, not in stained or painted wood, but in
+figured and polished marbles; yet undoubtedly this is one of the most consistent and
+notable great houses of the twentieth century in Europe. Seeking to provide a new sort
+of elegance that even the best English domestic work lacked, Hoffmann achieved here
+an urbane distinction only approached by Gill and the Greenes at this time in America.
+His houses in Vienna, such as that at 5-7 Invalidenstrasse of 1911 and the suburban
+one at 14-16 Gloriettegasse in Hietzing, are not in a class with the Palais Stoclet but
+more comparable to Olbrich’s or Behrens’s houses of this period in Germany. Work
+of similar character and equal distinction was done by Fabiani in Vienna before he
+settled in Gorizia in 1920. Very Hoffmann-like indeed is his building for the publisher
+Artaria at 9 Kohlmarkt of 1901. His Urania in the Uraniagasse of 1910 also rivals Hoffmann’s
+best.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Successor to Wagner in general esteem, and himself a professor at the Kunstgewerbeschule,
+Hoffman developed his personal style no further in the work he did after the
+First World War. At the Austrian Pavilion in the Exhibition of Decorative Arts of
+1925 in Paris—an exhibition organized in part to reclaim for France the primacy in the
+arts and crafts of decoration that had by this time passed to Vienna, largely because of
+Hoffmann’s leadership—the rather Neo-Rococo stuccoed block that he provided was
+much less advanced in character than the greenhouse-like portion designed by Behrens.
+However, his low-cost flats in the Felix-Mottlstrasse in Vienna, built like those of
+Behrens in the mid twenties, retain a good deal of the quality of his early sanatorium at
+Purkersdorf. Crisp and clean, they are distinctly less blank and ponderous than Behrens’s,
+if also less advanced in design that those by Josef Frank (b. 1885). Frank, a somewhat
+younger Viennese architect of considerable ability but lesser reputation than Hoffmann,
+left Vienna to settle in Sweden when the Nazis took over Austria.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The international acclaim that Viennese low-cost housing of this period received
+when new seems rather exaggerated now. From the first its significance was more
+political and sociological than architectural. It happened to be built, moreover, mostly
+by men not of the newest generation of architects at just the time when an architectural
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>revolution was taking place in France and Holland and Germany
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch22'>22</a> and <a href='#ch23'>23</a>).
+Henceforth that revolution, brilliantly illustrated as regards low-cost housing in the
+German Werkbund’s international exhibition of 1927 at Stuttgart, would affect most
+notably the design of such projects throughout the western world. The Viennese housing
+exhibition of 1930, a modest counterpart to that in Stuttgart, came too late to reform
+the local tradition, which largely survived even after the Second World War.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The work of Hoffmann’s exact contemporary Loos dates less than his and was of the
+greatest importance in providing inspiration to the modern architects of the second
+generation who brought about the revolution of the twenties. This inspiration from
+Loos is comparable in significance to that which the younger architects found in the
+work of Wright and of Perret. Loos, unlike other Austrians of his period, was primarily
+interested in architecture, not in decoration—indeed, he wrote in 1908 an article<a id="r434"></a><a href='#f434' class='c025'><sup>[434]</sup></a>
+claiming that ‘ornament is crime’, an attitude shared by no other architect of his
+generation, and least of all by his fellow Viennese. It was Loos’s tragedy that a very large
+part of his employment before the First World War was in remodelling and redecorating
+flats; this constrained him so little, however, that many of these may easily be taken
+in photographs for completely original house interiors (Plate <a href='#pl155b'>155<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although Loos began his career in the late nineties when the Art Nouveau tide ran
+highest, he was never at all affected by it, in part doubtless because he had spent the years
+1893-6 in America beyond the range of Art Nouveau influence. The interior of the
+Goldman haberdashery shop in Vienna, which he designed in 1898, was entirely
+straight-lined and quite without any ornament; in the Café Museum of the next year
+the segmental ceiling and the bentwood chairs were curved, but only for structural
+reasons. Both are now gone, although the extant Knizé men’s shop in the Graben in
+Vienna of 1913 gives some idea of what the former was like.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is Loos’s houses around Vienna, in Plzen, in Brno, in Montreux, and in Paris that
+place him as one of the four or five most important architects of his generation. His
+finest single extant work, however, is a small bar in Vienna. From the first he designed
+from the inside out, reducing his exteriors to square stucco boxes cut by many windows
+of different sizes and shapes. The results are very like Gill’s houses in California, as has
+been noted already, but with no such traditional elements as Gill’s arched porches. This
+is especially true of the Gustav Scheu house in the Larochegasse in the Vienna suburb of
+Hietzing, almost the only one left in Austria in something closely approaching its
+original condition (Plate <a href='#pl155a'>155<span class='fss'>A</span></a>; <a href='#i353'>Figure 43</a>). Loos was an enthusiastic admirer of English
+domestic architecture; this bent of his taste is curiously illustrated by his liking for English
+eighteenth-century furniture of the Queen Anne and Chippendale periods, which
+looks today so out of place in his severely rectangular rooms. But the architectural
+character of his interiors is never influenced by eighteenth-century modes, but only by
+the most advanced English work of the opening of the century which he knew well
+through the <i>Studio</i>. Articulated by plain wooden structural members like Voysey’s interiors
+or, on occasion, by similar piers clad with marble like Hoffmann’s in the Stoclet
+house, Loos’s suites of living areas are as flowing as Wright’s<a id="r435"></a><a href='#f435' class='c025'><sup>[435]</sup></a> but he never provided
+as much interconnexion between indoors and out.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>Of a succession of houses built before the First World War the much mishandled
+Steiner house of 1910 and the above-mentioned Scheu house of 1912, both in suburbs of
+Vienna, are perhaps the finest. The Villa Karma, built much earlier at Montreux in
+Switzerland in 1904-6, had an almost Hoffmann-like sumptuousness of materials and
+finish within; but in the main Loos kept, like Voysey and Wright, to plainer effects and
+simple dark wooden trim.</p>
+
+<div id='i353'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i353.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 43. Adolf Loos: Vienna, Gustav Scheu house, 1912, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>At first his houses looked, externally, rather like quite conventional ones from which
+all elements of traditional detail had been scraped, as do many of the contemporary projects
+included in Garnier’s ‘Cité Industrielle’. Gradually, however, Loos came to handle
+his simple elements of external design with more of that assurance which his domestic
+interiors had displayed from as early as the flat in Vienna remodelled for Leopold Langer
+in 1901 (Plate <a href='#pl155b'>155<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Both the placing and the sashing of his windows were more
+carefully studied; and the proportions and the juxtapositions of his rather boxy masses
+were abstractly ordered well before a Neoplasticist like Georges Vantongerloo in Holland
+arrived at somewhat similar effects in sculpture (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). Compared to
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>Wright’s more complex and articulated experimentation with abstract composition in
+the house of 1909 for Mrs Thomas Gale or the Coonley Playhouse of 1912, there remains,
+nevertheless, a distinctly negative quality about all Loos’s work. He seems to have
+been principally concerned to clear away inherited tradition in order to lay the foundations
+of an immanent new architecture. That new architecture, however, he himself was
+never able to bring fully into being, although others did so under his influence by the
+time he was in his early fifties (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Loos’s larger urban work, such as the prominent Goldman &amp; Salatsch Building of
+1910 in the Michaelerplatz in Vienna, he was ready to use marble externally and even to
+include classically detailed columns. But in the ground storey of this store he increased
+the articulated space effects characteristic of the interiors of his flats and houses to almost
+monumental scale. Here, in the small Kärntner Bar of 1907, and in the Café Capua
+of 1913, both also in Vienna, his use of fine materials with their polished surfaces
+uninterrupted by mouldings would eventually prove as potent an inspiration to architects
+of the next generation as did his more ascetic written doctrine.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Café Capua is gone; the Goldman &amp; Salatsch interior drastically remodelled;
+but the Kärntner Bar, in the Kärntner Durchgang behind 10 Kärntnerstrasse, remains a
+small masterpiece of modern design. During the Nazi occupation the façade lost the
+American flag in stained glass which ran across the top, but the exterior was never of
+much interest in any case. The interior is fortunately completely intact (Plate <a href='#pl151'>151</a>).
+Skilful use of mirrors quite disguises its very small dimensions. Above smooth dark
+mahogany walls, set like screens between plain green marble piers, unframed panels of
+mirror that reach to the ceiling allow one to see the strong reticulated pattern of the
+yellow marble ceiling extending left and right and to the rear just as if the actual area
+of the bar were merely an enclave in a much larger space. Because of the particular
+height of the mahogany wainscoting this illusion is quite perfect, for one sees only
+about as great a space reflected on either side as that one is actually in; if the mirrors
+came lower, a greater extension on either side and at the rear would be suggested than
+could possibly be plausible as a reflection. A continuous grille of square panels filled with
+translucent yellow onyx takes the place of the mirror panel across the top of the front
+wall. Not until Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona Pavilion of 1929 was marble used again
+by a modern architect with such assurance (Plate <a href='#pl165a'>165<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not these urban commissions, however, but Loos’s free-standing houses that
+the next generation of architects studied most closely. For example, Loos’s sort of
+domestic open planning, not Wright’s, was probably the major influence on the Continent
+after the First World War. Moreover, the neutrality, not to say the negativity, of
+the exteriors of his houses provided better even than Garnier’s projects the raw material
+with which a positive sort of architectural design could be created by younger men in
+the early twenties. Loos’s achievement before the First World War was largely in the
+domestic field; after the war most of his executed work still consisted of houses and
+shop interiors, although he made several extremely interesting projects for larger edifices
+and erected a large sugar refinery for the Rohrbacher Company in Czechoslovakia in
+1919.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>The Rufer house in Vienna of 1922 is a narrow three-storey block rather similar to
+Voysey’s Forster house of 1891 at Bedford Park. This has a most interesting sort of open
+plan, with the dining-room on a higher level than the living room. Loos was also working
+in other countries now; for his reputation, though limited to the most advanced
+circles, was increasingly international. His most considerable production of this decade
+was the house he built in 1926 for the writer Tristan Tzara at 14 Avenue Junod in Paris,
+where Loos had settled four years earlier. In the Tzara house the interior is arranged somewhat
+like that of the Rufer house: the dining room opens into the living room but on
+a higher level. The tall, rather blank front, slightly concave in plan, has a more positive
+character than those of most of his houses, because the two-storey void sunk into its
+centre provides a dominating plastic feature above the solid rubble of the ground storey.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of still later work the Kuhner house of 1930 at Payerbach in the wooded hills near
+Vienna is the most original example. A two-storey hall, opening towards the view
+through a window-wall, occupies most of the interior, with the various other living
+spaces opening into it on the main floor and the bedrooms reached from a gallery
+above. Above the masonry base the house is externally of log-construction, chalet-like,
+with Tyrolean roofs of low pitch and wide-spreading eaves. This reversion to
+peasant materials, and even to peasant forms, was curiously premonitory of a direction
+modern architecture took in several countries in the thirties (see Chapter <a href='#ch23'>23</a>). Had Loos
+lived longer he might, like Wright in that decade, have returned to the centre of the
+stage. As it was, his major contribution antedated the First World War.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perret, Wright, Behrens, and Loos: on the whole these are the four most important
+architects of the first modern generation, important both for their personal contribution
+and also for their decisive influence on later architecture. Outside the countries
+in which these men worked, notably in Holland and in Scandinavia, there were also
+architects of distinction belonging to this generation but their achievement was more
+limited and their influence more local, at least before the First World War. Yet Holland,
+between 1910 and 1925, came closer than any other country to creating a modern
+style, or phase of style, that was universally accepted at home; the origins, moreover, go
+back to the nineties. There was, properly speaking, no prefatory Art Nouveau episode
+in Holland of any consequence in spite of a considerable activity in the decorative arts
+inspired, in part at least, by serious study of the crafts of Indonesia.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Hendrik Petrus Berlage (1856-1934), the leader of the national school, was considerably
+older than Perret, Wright, Behrens, or Loos, although much younger than Wagner.
+As in Wagner’s case, his earliest work, dating from the eighties, is of a generically
+Renaissance character, though much less suave and academic. The influence of Cuijpers
+soon led him towards a medieval mode—not Gothic, however, but round-arched.
+Compared to <i>Rundbogenstil</i> work of the best period fifty years earlier, his round-arched
+buildings of the nineties are rather gawky, but not without originality in their ornamentation;
+above all, they are vigorously structural in their expression in a ‘realistic’
+and, indeed, almost High Victorian way. However, the insurance company buildings in
+Amsterdam and The Hague that best illustrate this phase were later enlarged by him in a
+chaster mode, thereby losing much of their anachronistic flavour.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>Berlage’s major opportunity came with the competition for the design of the Amsterdam
+Exchange held in 1897. This competition he won with a project which seems rather
+Richardsonian<a id="r436"></a><a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a> to American eyes, though he did not—apparently—know much about
+American work at that time. For this very extensive public edifice, built over the years
+1898-1903, he used, not the stone of his insurance office across the Damrak of 1893, but
+the red brick of his Hague insurance office, also of 1893, varied with a modicum of
+stone trim still quite crudely notched and chamfered. Inside, the principal interior has
+exposed metal principals above galleried walls of brick and stone. In Berlage’s masculine
+vigour and defiant gracelessness of detailing one could hardly have a greater contrast to
+such another major public building, designed and built at almost precisely the same time,
+as Horta’s Maison du Peuple in Brussels. But Horta’s masterpiece climaxed rather than
+opened his career as an architect of international importance; certainly it did not lead to
+the development of a national modern school in Belgium. At least for Holland, the
+Exchange was more seminal, even if it lacked the revolutionary character of Wright’s
+houses of these years or Perret’s block of flats in the Rue Franklin in Paris. A fairer comparison
+would be with Voysey’s contemporary houses, the work of an architect who
+was by intention rather a ‘reformer’ than a drastic innovator, or with Martin Nyrop’s
+Town Hall in Copenhagen begun five years earlier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Berlage’s near-Richardsonian mode of this period is still better illustrated in a smaller
+structure, that built for the Diamond Workers’ Trade Union in the Henri Polak Laan
+in Amsterdam in 1899-1900 (Plate <a href='#pl150'>150</a>). In this, the organization of the windows into a
+sort of brick-mullioned screen and the less aggressive handling of the carved stone detail
+produces a façade not unworthy of comparison with Richardson’s Sever Hall or
+Gaudí’s Casa Güell (Plate <a href='#pl096b'>96<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). It is notable, however, that it is work of the seventies and
+eighties in America and in Spain that comes to mind, not work of this date.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Hotel American of 1898-1900 in the Leidse Plein in Amsterdam by Willem
+Kromhout (1864-1940) illustrates how boldly Berlage’s line was taken by other local
+architects, and his relative originality even outrivalled. But the lead came in Kromhout’s
+case not from Berlage, but from Cuijpers’s nephew Eduard (1859-1927), a transitional
+figure whose work deserves more attention outside Holland than it has generally received.
+Kromhout’s touch is lighter than Berlage’s, as is also, to make a poor pun, the
+colour of his pale buff bricks, but his expression of structure is less ‘real’ and more
+frankly fantastic. In the detail of the exterior, and even more in the interiors, he was undoubtedly
+seeking to create a sort of Dutch alternative to the Art Nouveau, not curvilinear
+or naturalistically ‘organic’ but richly decorative in a semi-abstract way. The
+intention was worthy; the result, alas, is rather tawdry.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was not in the design of sumptuous individual buildings but in low-cost housing
+and in city-planning that Berlage himself was most active in the next fifteen years. In
+1908, for example, he prepared a plan for the extension of The Hague, and in 1915 a
+more ambitious one for Amsterdam. He had built his first blocks of flats in the Linnaeusstraat
+in Amsterdam in 1905. These are much less Romanesquoid than his earlier
+work but they are equally brusque as to the detailing. However, his architecture shortly
+grew much suaver. Berlage’s finest work of any period, perhaps, is not in Holland but
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>in the City of London, Holland House of 1914 at 1-4 Bury Street, E.C. This has a reticulated
+façade of moulded terracotta members more Sullivanian than Richardsonian in
+its verticality (Plate <a href='#pl138b'>138<span class='fss'>B</span></a>)—and by this time he certainly knew Sullivan’s work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The influence of Berlage in Holland was by this time very great and the esteem in
+which he was held—at least as much for his doctrine of direct structural expression as for
+his executed work—by no means restricted to his own country, since his writings were
+published in Germany as well as in Holland.<a id="r437"></a><a href='#f437' class='c025'><sup>[437]</sup></a> Yet, to foreign eyes, the achievement
+of the new school that grew up partly under his inspiration in Amsterdam is greater
+than his own. The work of this ‘Amsterdam School’—for it was soon so called—which
+flourished particularly in the decade 1912-22 is at times very close to that of the German
+architects influenced by Expressionism in the early twenties; but it began much
+earlier and has a strongly autochthonous flavour.<a id="r438"></a><a href='#f438' class='c025'><sup>[438]</sup></a> German Expressionism never inspired
+a building more stridently angular than the Scheepvaarthuis that J. M. van der Meij
+(b. 1868), a pupil of Eduard Cuijpers, built to house dock offices on the Prins Hendrik
+Kade in Amsterdam in 1912-13. The most extreme example of the abandon with which
+twentieth-century Dutch architects set out on new paths, this opened the way for the
+housing work of van der Meij’s assistants Michael de Klerk (1884-1923) and P. L.
+Kramer (1881-1961), both also pupils of Eduard Cuijpers, which represents internationally
+the greatest Dutch contribution to modern architecture. As the master of these
+three, Eduard Cuijpers, despite his own historicism, has perhaps as much right as Berlage
+to be considered a father of the Amsterdam School. Their work, moreover, has some
+analogies not only with German Expressionism but also with Wright’s contemporary
+Baroque phase of 1914-24. However, the crystallization of de Klerk’s personal style preceded
+the beginning of Wright’s influence in Holland and, when that influence began
+during the years of the First World War, it operated in fact to counter the extravagances
+of the Amsterdam School.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Early buildings by de Klerk, such as the first Eigen Haard Estate housing blocks that
+were designed in 1913 and erected round the Spaandammerplantsoen on the west side
+of Amsterdam, have a quaintness that recalls English or American work of a generation
+earlier rather than van der Meij’s aggressive angularity. They look almost as if they were
+especially fanciful projects of the Shingle Style that happened to be executed in brick
+instead of wood. But the elegant underscaled local brick is handled with extraordinary
+virtuosity, and the façades achieve a stage-set-like unreality in sharpest contrast to the
+often dreary matter-of-factness of low-cost housing produced in other countries in these
+same years. Although the first Eigen Haard blocks were, in planning and general
+organization, as straightforward as Berlage’s, they have a warmer human touch such as
+architects elsewhere—Behrens, for example, or the Scandinavians—either missed entirely
+or attempted to attain by a parsimonious use of more or less ‘traditional’ detailing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The extension of the Eigen Haard Estate along the Zaanstraat, begun in 1917, represents
+perhaps the peak of de Klerk’s achievement (Plate <a href='#pl156b'>156<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Here the many curved
+wall elements bring out the special qualities of Dutch brickwork; and the rather heavy
+wooden window-frames, brought forward as in Hoffmann’s Stoclet house to the wall-plane,
+give continuity to the plastic modelling of the façades. Highly imaginative, even
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>whimsical, features of detail, such as the barrel-like corner oriel, give an air of good
+humour, and even of the outright humorous, that is rare in any other architecture,
+ancient or modern; but these features are for the most part truly architectonic, not
+merely decorative. De Klerk’s whimsy is never nightmarish, in the way Gaudí’s can be,
+nor loud and aggressive like van der Meij’s. His highly personal style can be considered
+a sort of <i>barocchino</i> of the early twentieth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The extreme point of de Klerk’s invention is seen in the post office that occupies the
+apex of the later portion of the Eigen Haard Estate. This is like nothing so much as a
+child’s toy enlarged to architectural scale in some contemporary setting for Diaghilev’s
+Ballet Russe.<a id="r439"></a><a href='#f439' class='c025'><sup>[439]</sup></a> After this his work grew somewhat simpler and more orderly. Already
+the blocks he designed in 1920 for an area round the Henriette Ronnerplein in the
+De Dageraad Estate on the south-east side of Amsterdam are more regular and restrained;
+the plainest of all is the very long continuous range near by in the Amstellaan
+built in 1921-2.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Also in the De Dageraad Estate, in the portion that runs down both sides of the P. L.
+Takstraat, along the Burgemeester Tellegenstraat and into the Talmastraat, Kramer
+showed himself even more of a virtuoso in the handling of curved wall elements of
+brick—here brown and buff—than de Klerk (Plate <a href='#pl156a'>156<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Projected in 1918 and built in
+1921-3, Kramer’s scheme combined tall and very plastic features at the street intersections
+with notably straightforward three-storey ranges in between. Thus he produced
+an extensive urbanistic ensemble of great homogeneity of character, yet very considerable
+variety of visual interest, and with a quality of craftsmanship perhaps superior
+to de Klerk’s. But by the time this was completed Kramer had become even more
+chastened than de Klerk in his last work in the Amstellaan. In Kramer’s Amsterdam West
+housing, begun in 1923, the façades are plain and flat with continuous bands of white-sashed
+windows. Thus these blocks are definitely related to the direction that modern
+architecture was taking in Holland as in France and Germany in these years at the hands
+of men of Kramer’s own generation (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Kramer’s De Bijenkorf department store of 1924-6 in the Grotemarktstraat in The
+Hague, however, still retains much of the plastic exuberance of his earlier housing
+blocks and is executed with a sumptuous range of fine materials. Kramer here employed
+at large scale the curved surfaces of brickwork characteristic of De Dageraad, with
+notable success. Many Amsterdam canal bridges of these years illustrate also his
+virtuosity at elaborate semi-abstract detail carried out with excellent craftsmanship in
+wrought iron and carved or artificial stone. Moreover, in the mid twenties the Amsterdam
+City Architect’s office exploited with real success in various school and police
+buildings a manner closely approaching that of de Klerk and Kramer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Unfashionable even in Holland for a quarter of a century, the work of the Amsterdam
+School merits that more sympathetic examination which the Art Nouveau has now
+for some years received. At its best the work of de Klerk and Kramer from the mid
+teens to the mid twenties has survived better than all but the finest contemporary
+achievements of Wright and Perret, partly because it was so well built in the first place
+and has been so well maintained ever since. Without being, in the proper sense of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>word, Expressionist, it yet has close analogies with the Expressionist approach. It may
+be considered to stand in a relationship to the work of Höger and Poelzig in Germany
+somewhat comparable to that of Gaudí to the Art Nouveau of Brussels and Paris; for
+it is at once independent of outside influence and superior to the foreign work that it
+most closely parallels. But the Amsterdam School did not occupy the entire Dutch scene
+even in these, its best, years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In no European country was the work of Frank Lloyd Wright studied earlier and
+with more enthusiasm than in Holland; Berlage was one of Wright’s greatest admirers
+after his visit to America in 1911. The influence of Wright’s work up to 1910, known
+through the Wasmuth publications, began to be evident in the later years of the First
+World War. Dirk Roosenburg (1887-1962), Jan Wils (b. 1891), J. J. Van Loghem (1882-1940),
+and several others were notably Wrightian in the early twenties; and the magazine
+<i>Wendingen</i>, edited by H. T. Wijdeveld (b. 1885), continued through the mid twenties
+to bring Wright’s later buildings and his projects of those years to European attention,
+notably devoting to him a magnificent series of special issues in 1925 which constitutes
+a document of signal importance for the study of his work of this period. The first
+German book on Wright after the Wasmuth publications did not appear until the next
+year, and the first in French only in 1928.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wrightian ideas were readily accepted by many Dutch architects previously inspired
+chiefly by Berlage, not to speak of their influence on Berlage himself. Admiration for
+Wright’s work undoubtedly played a real part in the rapid modulation of Dutch architecture
+towards greater severity and a more geometrical discipline in the twenties.
+But the major significance of the lively Dutch interest in the American lies in its effect
+on the development of a few younger men in these years. To the Amsterdam School
+there had arisen a strong opposition led by architects belonging to the De Stijl group of
+artists who were active in Rotterdam and Utrecht. Yet the Amsterdam School architects
+continued for some time to be highly productive, and the work of several prominent
+men, notably J. F. Staal (1879-1940) and W. M. Dudok (b. 1884), was related to
+both camps. But by the time Berlage was engaged on the big concrete-framed Netherlands
+Insurance Company Building in The Hague in 1925-6 its very Wrightian character
+had just been superseded in the projects and the production of Rietveld and Oud
+by a more ascetic mode parallel to that adumbrated by the new architects of France and
+Germany in the early twenties (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the new building of the Scandinavian countries before and after the First World
+War admirers in other countries thought to recognize an originality and vitality comparable
+to that of contemporary Dutch work. As has already been remarked, it has since become
+evident that most of what was produced in these decades in Denmark and Sweden
+did not really differ very much from the work of ‘traditionalists’ elsewhere. Despite extremely
+elegant and often piquant stylization, comparable but superior to that of most
+German work in this period, continued maintenance of inherited principles of design
+and the general use of reminiscent detail sharply differentiated the characteristic production
+of the Scandinavians from that of the Dutch, and of course far more from that of
+Wright or Loos. What such men as Ragnar Östberg (1866-1945), and E. G. Asplund
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>(1885-1940) down to his sharp change of style in the late twenties, designed and built
+in Sweden or P. V. Jensen Klint (1853-1930) and Kay Fisker (b. 1893)—down to his
+parallel change of style—in Denmark was generally still rated ‘modern’ a generation
+ago; almost all of it may now be more properly classed with ‘traditional’ work in other
+countries. In quality, however, it often more than rivals all but the finest modern German,
+Austrian, and Dutch work of its day (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>An exception to this statement as regards Sweden is the remarkable Engelbrekt
+Church of 1904-14 in Stockholm by L. I. Wahlman (b. 1870), with its great parabolic
+arches and its vertically massed exterior dominated by a very tall and svelte tower;
+there much of the experimentalism of the nineties lived on. For its influence, this is
+possibly a more important twentieth-century church than Perret’s at Le Raincy. An
+even more considerable exception is a large part of the prolific production of the Finnish
+architect Eliel Saarinen (1873-1950) both in the Old World and in the New. Saarinen
+was the leading architect of Finland down to the twenties; after his removal to the
+United States he was Wright’s only rival of his own generation on the American scene,
+the careers of the early modern architects of the West Coast being by then in decline
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch19'>19</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Saarinen’s earliest work in partnership with Herman Gesellius (1874-1916) and A. E.
+Lindgren (1874-1929) dates from the nineties. In 1900 he designed the Finnish Pavilion
+at the Paris Exhibition; this offered a powerful, though rather cranky, statement of
+Nordic originality quite opposed to the Latin elegance of the contemporary Art
+Nouveau and not without kinship to Berlage’s Amsterdam Exchange. At home important
+public commissions followed rapidly: the National Museum in Helsinki in
+1902 and the Helsinki railway station, for which he won the competition in 1904. This
+large and complex structure, built over the years 1910-14, is Saarinen’s principal early
+work. In size and in monumentality it rivals Bonatz’s Stuttgart station and also the vast
+stations that ‘traditional’ architects in America were building at much the same time
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). But there is much less of ‘tradition’ here than at the Stuttgart or,
+<i>a fortiori</i>, in the American stations. The heaviness and the grandeur are more than a
+little Germanic so that the fairest comparison is with Stürzenacker’s Karlsruhe station,
+on the whole more straightforward in design and certainly much more delicately detailed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Saarinen’s achievement in his homeland made him well known throughout Europe;
+as early as 1905 one of his principal works had been a country house, Molchow, in
+Brandenburg in Germany. The project that he entered in the Chicago Tribune Tower
+competition in 1922 brought him suddenly to American attention. Although a Gothic
+design by John Mead Howells (b. 1868) and Raymond Hood (1881-1934) won this
+competition and was executed<a id="r440"></a><a href='#f440' class='c025'><sup>[440]</sup></a> on Michigan Avenue, in 1923-5, Saarinen’s project
+(which in any case received a financially generous second premium) had a tremendous
+<i>succès d’estime</i>, including the accolade of Sullivan himself. In retrospect the design appears
+almost as medievalizing as Howells &amp; Hood’s; but the elegance of the silhouette
+and the consistency of the detailing, stylized nearly to the point of absolute originality,
+had an enormous contemporary appeal.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>By this time Americans were beginning to grow bored with the increasingly forced
+adaptation of familiar styles of the past to skyscraper design. Yet in 1922 they were
+hardly ready to recognize the positive qualities of the very plain reticulated tower,
+elaborated with certain minor Constructivist touches, that was proposed by Walter
+Gropius (b. 1883) and Adolf Meyer (d. 1925) (Plate <a href='#pl158a'>158<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Today it is easy to see how
+close this came to reviving the Chicago tradition of the early skyscrapers, a tradition
+almost forgotten since the First World War, as also its great importance in the crystallization
+of a new architecture in the early twenties (see Chapter <a href='#ch22'>22</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Saarinen, after settling in the United States in 1922, designed various other skyscrapers
+along the lines of his Chicago project, none of them built. However, other architects
+at once picked up his relatively novel ideas; and undoubtedly his ideas played an
+important part in turning American skyscraper architects away from their long-continued
+dependence on the styles of the past. Hood himself was not least affected, as
+his black and gold American Radiator Building<a id="r441"></a><a href='#f441' class='c025'><sup>[441]</sup></a> on West 40th Street in New York,
+completed in 1924 even before the Chicago Tribune Tower, soon made evident. In
+Detroit, near which city Saarinen settled, Albert Kahn’s Fisher Building is even more
+Saarinenesque and quite unrelated to his contemporary factories.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Called to Bloomfield Hills, Mich., by the Booth publishing family, Saarinen’s first
+work in America was the Cranbrook School for Boys, a very extensive group of buildings
+begun in 1925. Here an almost Swedish elegance of craftsmanship and a profusion of
+semi-traditional detail were combined in a somewhat whimsical manner rather recalling
+English work of forty or fifty years earlier. The girls’ school near by, however, Kingswood,
+begun in 1929, is much simpler, with an almost Wrightian horizontality and
+crispness of expression.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>When American building activity revived in the late thirties Saarinen continued to
+develop. From 1937 on his American-trained son Eero (1911-61), destined later to be one
+of the leaders of post-war architecture in the United States, doubtless played some part
+in encouraging that bolder structural expression and increasing sparseness of ornamentation
+that characterizes his finest late works. These qualities are already very evident in
+the Kleinhans Music Hall in Buffalo, N.Y., of 1938; while the contrast between the
+straightforwardness of the Crow Island School in Winnetka, Ill., of 1939, on which the
+Chicago firm of Perkins, Wheeler &amp; Will collaborated, and the quaintness and fussiness
+of the Cranbrook School is quite startling.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Most distinguished of all the late Saarinen works are his Tabernacle Church at
+Columbus, Ind., designed in 1940 and built in 1941-2, and the similar but smaller Christ
+Lutheran Church in Minneapolis that was built in 1949 just before his
+death (Plate <a href='#pl157b'>157<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). Cool, clear, and rational, the
+distinguished handling of brickwork in these churches, the knowing
+control of light, and the careful ordering of space in the interiors
+remain exemplary. Their towers are more refined versions of Moser’s on Sankt
+Antonius in Basel; yet the massing of their blocky external elements almost seems to
+belong to an earlier tradition, that of the English Victorian Gothic churches of the third
+quarter of the nineteenth century, whose reminiscent forms they wholly abjure, and
+with which neither of the Saarinens was probably familiar.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span>Of the first generation of modern architects not even Wright still survives. As long
+as he continued in active production the story that the last four chapters have tried to
+tell could not be completed but in 1959, with his death, an architectural epoch came
+finally to an end. It was a rich epoch and a complex one because the men of that
+generation were all great individualists and proud of it. In most countries they had to
+fight a vigorous battle for the right to personal expression, a battle that they carried
+through to recognition against entrenched inertia, both professional and lay. Yet in
+general, the links of this generation with the later nineteenth century remained close,
+both in their dependence on handicraft and in their frequent tendency—least evident
+with Wright and Loos—to accept (up to a point) personal stylization of earlier architectural
+forms<a id="r442"></a><a href='#f442' class='c025'><sup>[442]</sup></a> as a substitute for that basic originality of which all were at their best
+truly capable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not since the late eighteenth century had there been any such wide international
+renewal of architectural aspiration. Just as then, a new generation would profit from
+the experiments of their elders, taking much from each, but rejecting much as well, in
+order to create a style—or at least a discipline—aiming at universality. By its essential
+principles, this discipline could not have the variety and the intensity of personal expression
+which gives such colour and life to the work of the older men. Just as in the
+early nineteenth century, however, the architects who succeeded the great originals
+were far more able than they to work together. By joining their individual efforts the
+men of the next generation changed the character of almost all architectural production
+in a way that their elders were quite unable to do. Thus there came into being an
+architecture more completely of its own century than any style-phase of the previous
+hundred years—up to the Art Nouveau at least—had ever been wholly of the nineteenth
+century.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>
+  <h2 id='ch22' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 22</span><br />THE EARLY WORK OF THE SECOND GENERATION: WALTER GROPIUS, LE CORBUSIER, MIES VAN DER ROHE, AND THE DUTCH</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> project that Gropius and Meyer offered in the competition of 1922 for the Chicago
+Tribune Tower, unlike Saarinen’s, attracted very little contemporary attention in
+America (Plate <a href='#pl158a'>158<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Such a stripped expression of skeleton construction had, up to
+that time in America, been seen only in factories and warehouses. Even in Chicago,
+moreover, the New York ideal of the shaped tower had quite replaced the Sullivanian
+slab as the favourite form for pretentious skyscrapers. Ten years later, however, when
+the first International Exhibition of Modern Architecture was held at the new Museum
+of Modern Art in New York it was evident that the kind of architecture represented by
+Gropius’s project had become widely accepted in several European countries. By that
+date it was even possible to deduce from the executed work of Gropius and his chief
+European contemporaries, most of which was shown in the exhibition, the existence of
+a new style christened ‘international’<a id="r443"></a><a href='#f443' class='c025'><sup>[443]</sup></a> by Alfred Barr, the Museum’s director. Whether
+the new architecture that came into being in the twenties in Europe and has since spread
+throughout the western world should in fact be considered a style, or even a style-phase,
+remains a matter of controversy; but for forty years now it has been readily distinguishable
+from what the older generation of modern architects produced.</p>
+<p class='c010'>In 1922 this new architecture hardly existed except in the form of projects. Some of
+the most strikingly novel buildings built in the early twenties were by Willem Marinus
+Dudok (b. 1884) in Holland and by Erich Mendelsohn<a id="r444"></a><a href='#f444' class='c025'><sup>[444]</sup></a> (1887-1953) in Germany. These
+no longer belonged to the realm of the earlier, pre-war modern architecture. Yet the
+work of neither was as indicative of the direction the newer architecture was taking
+in these formative years as is the Gropius Chicago Tribune project. Very shortly, however,
+both Dudok and Mendelsohn drew closer to the main current of development
+of this decade, although they continued to be, in varying degree, individualists rather
+than whole-hearted converts to the dominant architectural mode of their generation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Dudok’s work as City Architect of Hilversum, beginning with the Public
+Baths and the Dr H. Bavinck School in 1921, is remarkably simple and
+direct (Plate <a href='#pl157a'>157<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The abstract crispness and
+clarity of his compositions are very different from the whimsically
+curved surfaces of de Klerk’s and Kramer’s housing blocks
+(Plate <a href='#pl156a'>156<span class='fss'>A</span></a> and <a href='#pl156b'><span class='fss'>B</span></a>). This rigidly geometrical
+organization of the forms reflects his earlier contact with the group
+of Dutch abstract artists known as <i>De Stijl</i>,<a id="r445"></a><a href='#f445' class='c025'><sup>[445]</sup></a> notably the
+painters Piet Mondrian and Theo van Doesburg and the sculptor Georges
+Vantongerloo. But Dudok’s continued emphasis on the fine quality of
+his brickwork, the massiveness of his characteristically interlocking
+blocks, and a certain basically decorative intention still link his
+buildings of the twenties at Hilversum with the ideals of the older
+generation. Dudok’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>work of this period was certainly novel—and even modern in a very advanced way for
+the date—but it remained quite Dutch in its idiosyncrasies, not ‘international’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The plasticity of Mendelsohn’s Einstein Tower, designed in 1919 and completed in
+1921, at Neubabelsberg near Berlin (Plate <a href='#pl153b'>153<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) seems at first sight not unrelated to that
+of Gaudí’s hewn-stone Casa Milá in Barcelona of 1905-10 (Plate <a href='#pl137a'>137<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But it was originally
+intended to be executed in poured concrete—for technical reasons it is in fact mostly
+of brick rendered with cement—and what one might call the ‘overtones’ of the forms
+are more mechanistic than organic. Like Dudok, Mendelsohn had been influenced by a
+local school of painting. But the images he distorted according to the tenets of Expressionism
+came from the world of machines not, like Gaudí’s, from the world of plants
+and animals. Mendelsohn’s earlier war-time sketches<a id="r446"></a><a href='#f446' class='c025'><sup>[446]</sup></a> make this origin even more
+evident. The extreme point of this sort of abstract sculptural Expressionism<a id="r447"></a><a href='#f447' class='c025'><sup>[447]</sup></a> in the
+twenties is found in the work of no architect but in the mountainous cult edifice called
+the Goetheanum at Dornach in Switzerland, designed by the creator of anthroposophy
+Rudolf Steiner<a id="r448"></a><a href='#f448' class='c025'><sup>[448]</sup></a> and begun in 1923.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mendelsohn himself rejected this excessively plastic approach to architecture—an
+approach to which a reversion can be noted on the part of Le Corbusier in the last
+decade, incidentally (Plate <a href='#pl167'>167</a>)—even before the Einstein Tower was completed.
+The hat factory that he built at Luckenwalde in 1920-3 was in the direct line of descent
+from the industrial work Behrens and Poelzig had done before the First World War.
+This was rightly recognized as one of the signal productions of those crucial years of the
+early twenties when the concepts of the new architecture were first being tentatively
+realized in France and in Holland, and very shortly, of course in Germany. Dudok’s
+buildings at Hilversum of the early twenties had a very considerable international
+influence;<a id="r449"></a><a href='#f449' class='c025'><sup>[449]</sup></a> Mendelsohn’s Einstein Tower did not, at least not on architecture.<a id="r450"></a><a href='#f450' class='c025'><sup>[450]</sup></a> However,
+other work of his done in the next few years was much admired and also widely
+emulated, both in Germany and abroad, by the younger architects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In spite of the importance in these years of the executed work of Dudok and of Mendelsohn,
+several other architects certainly had far more to do with determining the
+direction that architecture took from 1922 on. One was a Swiss then working in Paris,
+Charles-Édouard Jeanneret, known as Le Corbusier. At this time more painter than
+architect, Le Corbusier had earlier been an assistant of Perret’s and had also worked
+briefly for Behrens and even for Josef Hoffmann. Two others were Dutchmen. J.J.P.
+Oud had practised in association with Dudok at Leiden in 1912-13, and from 1917 and
+1918 he and G.T. Rietveld were in much closer contact with the artists of <i>De Stijl</i> than
+Dudok ever was, being actual members of that small cohesive group. Two more were
+Germans, Walter Gropius and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, both of whom had been
+Behrens’s assistants, respectively for two and for three years.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius, born in 1883, is the eldest of the five and older than Mendelsohn also; Le
+Corbusier, Rietveld, and Mies were born in 1888; Oud in 1890. Gropius’s career began
+as early as 1906, when he erected some plain brick workmen’s houses in Pomerania even
+before he had finished his professional training at the Technische Hochschule in Munich.
+A leading professor in this school was Theodor Fischer, Bonatz’s master, in whose office
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>Oud later spent a few months in 1911. After a year of travel in Spain, Italy, and Holland
+Gropius entered Behrens’s office in 1908, remaining there till 1910. On leaving Behrens
+he designed in 1911, with Adolf Meyer, the Fagus Factory at Alfeld-an-der-Leine. He
+worked again in partnership with Meyer from after the First World War until the
+latter’s death in 1925.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Directly as this Alfeld factory—it made shoe-lasts—follows from Behrens’s work
+for the A.E.G., notably the front of the Turbine Factory of 1909, its architectural expression
+is much more advanced (Plate <a href='#pl158b'>158<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). There the great window remained, for all
+its size, but a window; here, in the main three-storey block, the slightly projecting metal
+chassis rise unbroken over very wide areas bounded by narrow brick piers, and the
+storey levels are barely indicated by solid panels identical in treatment with the glazed
+sash above and below them. This arrangement of transparent and opaque elements
+identically handled may almost—but not quite—be considered to constitute a ‘curtain-wall’.<a id="r451"></a><a href='#f451' class='c025'><sup>[451]</sup></a>
+The omission of piers at the corners, a structural novelty here, enormously
+enhances the effect of transparent volume as opposed to that of solid mass. In the
+organization of the various industrial elements of the complete plant that are associated
+with the glazed block there is neither symmetry, such as Behrens was only beginning
+to relinquish, nor yet asymmetry of the more casual and picturesque sort; instead a
+modular regularity controls the whole composition. This factory has long been recognized
+historically as one of the most important<a id="r452"></a><a href='#f452' class='c025'><sup>[452]</sup></a> buildings of the twentieth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius’s next building, the Hall of Machinery at the Werkbund Exhibition of 1914
+in Cologne, was in some ways less advanced. The main façades of this were quite symmetrical;
+and in the articulation of the brick piers of the ground storey, in the heavily
+framed central entrance and, above all, in the projecting slab roofs of the raised corners
+there appears to have been some direct influence from the work of Wright, notably from
+his hotel of 1909 in Mason City, Iowa. (This was published in the Wasmuth book of
+1910, where Gropius would almost certainly have seen it.) The glazed front of the principal
+storey, however, and especially the rounded glass stair-towers at the ends were not
+at all Wrightian; they carried still further the expression of architecture as transparent
+volume already evident in the Fagus Factory and approached very closely indeed the
+mature curtain-wall concept, although at a modest scale.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mies remained with Behrens a year longer than Gropius, after having spent three
+earlier years with Bruno Paul<a id="r453"></a><a href='#f453' class='c025'><sup>[453]</sup></a> (1874-1954), a more conservative architect whose best
+work was done as a furniture designer. His independent career began in a much less
+spectacular fashion than that of Gropius. The Perls house of 1911 at Zehlendorf outside
+Berlin was as formally symmetrical as Behrens’s houses at Hagen of 1908-9 and rather
+more Schinkelesque. The Urbig house of 1914 at Neubabelsberg was very correctly
+late-eighteenth-century in its detailing. His most important work of these years, however,
+was the project for the H. E. L. J. Kröller house in The Hague of 1912, intended to
+contain the large and famous Kröller-Müller Collection of modern paintings now at
+Otterlo. Of this a full-scale wood and canvas model was erected on the actual site, but
+it was never built. The formal though asymmetrical organization of the severe horizontal
+blocks, the incorporation of voids in the composition by means of loggias and
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>pilastrades, and the cold austerity of the refined detailing of the masonry all approach
+very closely such things by Schinkel as the Zivilcasino at Potsdam and Schloss Glienecke,
+even if the characteristic belvedere tower of the latter is significantly omitted. In many
+ways this project was as premonitory of later modern architecture as the Fagus Factory,
+although the latter, as an executed building, has properly received much more notice.<a id="r454"></a><a href='#f454' class='c025'><sup>[454]</sup></a>
+Both Gropius and Mies were involved in the First World War from 1914 to 1918, so
+that the next stage in their careers opened only in 1919.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Le Corbusier, Oud, and Rietveld were neutral nationals, but their production of these
+early years, although less interrupted by the war, is mostly not of much intrinsic interest.
+After two years with Perret in Paris Le Corbusier had spent six months in Behrens’s
+office in 1910.<a id="r455"></a><a href='#f455' class='c025'><sup>[455]</sup></a> His first house,<a id="r456"></a><a href='#f456' class='c025'><sup>[456]</sup></a> built for his parents at La Chaux de Fond in Switzerland
+in 1913, is more closely related to Behrens’s early houses in its plain white stucco
+walls and fairly restricted fenestration than it is to the work of Perret or to Behrens’s
+A.E.G. factories of 1909-11. The plan is the most interesting feature: this provides a
+central living area out of which other more specialized rooms open to left and right
+through wide glazed doors, a scheme that seems to derive from Perret’s planning, or
+perhaps that of Loos,<a id="r457"></a><a href='#f457' class='c025'><sup>[457]</sup></a> rather than from Wright’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Le Corbusier’s next significant work was a war-time project of 1914-15 for low-cost
+houses called Dom-Ino. These seem to derive not from anything of Perret’s or Behrens’s
+but rather directly from the ones that Tony Garnier had proposed for his ‘Cité
+Industrielle’ as early as 1901-4,<a id="r458"></a><a href='#f458' class='c025'><sup>[458]</sup></a> but they are still plainer, probably because of the concurrent
+influence of Loos. However, Le Corbusier’s only important executed building
+of the War years, the Villa Schwoff of 1916 at La Chaux de Fond, is closer to Perret in
+its elaborate formality,<a id="r459"></a><a href='#f459' class='c025'><sup>[459]</sup></a> its much simplified academic detail, and its concrete-and-brick
+construction. The plan represents an advance over that of his parents’ house, however,
+for the main living area here is carried up two storeys and lighted by a tall window-wall
+towards the garden. Of special significance also is the arrangement of all the flat
+roofs as usable terraces.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The next year, 1917, <i>De Stijl</i> was founded, and soon Oud and Rietveld as members
+of the group began to collaborate with the Dutch abstract painters and sculptors generally
+known as Neoplasticists.<a id="r460"></a><a href='#f460' class='c025'><sup>[460]</sup></a> In this year Oud built two villas by the seashore: Allegonda
+at Katwijk, designed in association with the architect M. Kamerlingh Onnes; and
+De Vonk at Noordwijkerhout, with interiors decorated by the <i>De Stijl</i> painter and
+critic Theo van Doesburg. The Dutch had no direct contact with Behrens, unlike the
+other three, but Oud was briefly with Fischer in Munich in 1911, as has been said. However,
+Oud’s work down to this time had been essentially Berlagian: moreover, it was
+Berlage who evoked his interest in the work of Wright. Nevertheless, there is nothing
+Wrightian about these villas, but rather a Loos-like reduction of architecture to white
+stucco cubes. The interest of De Vonk is largely confined to the floors of bold geometric
+pattern executed in coloured tile by van Doesburg; Allegonda was much modified by
+Oud in 1927. Rietveld was still primarily a furniture designer until 1921.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1918 Oud became City Architect of Rotterdam, where his brother occupied a
+prominent political position, and began work at once on the Spangen Housing Estate,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>Blocks I and II being of that year, Blocks VIII and IX of the next. The Tuschendijken
+Estate followed in 1920. These housing blocks, even more than the seaside villas, are
+notable for their negative rather than their positive qualities. All the elaboration of form
+and detail of the Amsterdam School was put aside in favour of an ascetic regularity. But
+various projects of these years illustrate how boldly Oud was attempting, partly under
+the influence of his painter and sculptor friends, partly under that of Wright, to arrive
+at new formal concepts. But Oud was not alone in these years in attempting to translate
+the ideals of <i>De Stijl</i> into architecture. Gerrit Rietveld, in a jewellery shop in Amsterdam
+built in 1921, was probably the first fully to realize Neoplasticist concepts in three
+dimensions and at architectural scale.<a id="r461"></a><a href='#f461' class='c025'><sup>[461]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Paris in the first post-war years Le Corbusier was also closely involved with
+painters; indeed, he himself was then as much, or more, a painter as an architect, and
+he has never ceased painting since. With the French painter Amédée Ozenfant he had
+written a book on art, <i>Après le cubisme</i>, published in Paris in 1918; together they developed
+a post-Cubist sort of abstract painting, partly inspired by their friend Fernand
+Léger and partly by their interest in the simple shapes of everyday objects. This they
+called ‘Purisme’. In support of their ideas about all the arts they began in 1920<a id="r462"></a><a href='#f462' class='c025'><sup>[462]</sup></a> to publish
+a review, <i>L’Esprit nouveau</i>, which continued to appear until 1925, the nursery years
+of the new architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In succession to his Dom-Ino system of multiple housing of 1914-15, Le Corbusier was
+developing at this time the Troyes system, using poured concrete, and also the Monol
+system with a reinforced-concrete skeleton deriving technically from the innovations of
+Perret. But the definitive formulation of his new ideals for architecture, focused as they
+were at this time on the sociological problem of the low-cost dwelling, lay a year or
+two ahead. Having no official position, he did not need, like Oud, to produce executed
+work in quantity before his own concepts matured. Gropius’s earliest work, back in
+1906, had been a low-cost housing scheme, as has been noted, and in 1911 he built another
+housing estate, at Wittenberg-an-der-Elbe. Economical housing was increasingly recognized
+as a social service for which architects ought to exploit to the utmost their technical
+abilities; from the first it offered a common challenge to the Dutchman, the Swiss-Parisian,
+and the German.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like the Dutch and Le Corbusier, Gropius was involved with painters in the early
+post-war years. Appointed in 1919 head of the Art School in Weimar and also of the
+Arts and Crafts School there which Van de Velde had run before the War, he combined
+them and named the new school the Bauhaus.<a id="r463"></a><a href='#f463' class='c025'><sup>[463]</sup></a> Here teachers of painting and sculpture
+and architecture worked in closest association with teachers of the crafts in continuation
+and extension of the English Arts and Crafts ideals of the eighties and nineties. Soon this
+rather Viennese approach, brought to the Bauhaus by Adolf Itten, with its emphasis on
+handicraft, was revised by Gropius so that it might better fit an increasingly industrialized
+society.<a id="r464"></a><a href='#f464' class='c025'><sup>[464]</sup></a> To his faculty Gropius brought such advanced painters as the German-American
+Lyonel Feininger in 1919 and in 1922 the Russian Wassily Kandinsky and the
+Swiss Paul Klee. Yet it was not their refined art but rather Expressionist painting and
+sculpture which still influenced the jagged War Monument that he erected in Weimar
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>in 1921. His architectural ideals in the early post-war years before 1922, moreover, seem
+to have been rather closer to Poelzig’s or Mendelsohn’s than to those of Le Corbusier,
+Oud, or Rietveld.</p>
+
+<div id='i368'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i368.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 44. Le Corbusier: First project for Citrohan house, 1919-20, perspective</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>As has been several times stated already, certain remarkable projects best displayed the
+direction in which several of the architects of the younger generation were moving,
+along nearly parallel lines, in these years preceding the general revival of building production
+in the mid twenties. Gropius’s Chicago Tribune project of 1922, in which the
+line of his development shifted away from Expressionism, has already been discussed out
+of sequence (Plate <a href='#pl158a'>158<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). But the most significant projects, earlier than this by several
+years, were by Mies and by Le Corbusier. Mies’s early work had not been very adventurous
+up to the time when he proposed, in 1919 and in 1920-1, two revolutionary
+glazed skyscrapers to be built in Berlin. In both, the floors were to be cantilevered out
+from central supporting cores and the curtain-walls enclosing them merely light metal
+chassis holding great panes of glass. However, their plans, respectively jagged and curvilinear,
+reflected the strong influence of Expressionism, an influence that disappeared
+from Mies’s as from Gropius’s work the very next year, after the Germans became
+aware of the architectural implications of Dutch Neoplasticism and also of Russian Constructivism.
+Van Doesburg,<a id="r465"></a><a href='#f465' class='c025'><sup>[465]</sup></a> it should be noted, visited the Bauhaus in 1922, and for a
+short but crucial period both Gropius and Mies seem to have drawn from Dutch sources
+as much inspiration as the young Dutch architects. In addition to the obvious debts of
+Dudok, Oud, and Rietveld to Neoplasticism, Cornelis van Eesteren (b. 1897), today
+City Architect of Amsterdam, was actually collaborating with van Doesburg in these
+years on various house projects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Less striking than Mies’s skyscrapers, but more buildable, were Le
+Corbusier’s successive Citrohan projects for houses of 1919-22
+(Plate <a href='#pl160a'>160<span class='fss'>A</span></a>; Figures 44 and 45). Brought to public attention
+first in <i>L’Esprit nouveau</i> and later in his extremely
+influential book <i>Vers une architecture</i>, published in Paris in
+1923 and shortly translated into English and
+German, these adumbrated a new aesthetic of architecture more completely than anything
+that he or any other architect had yet proposed on paper, much less built.
+Modest in size, each Citrohan house was to consist largely of a two-storey living-room
+fronted like that of the La Chaux de Fond house of 1916 with a tall window-wall.
+This would occupy most of the façade, and it was here set within a very plain frame of
+rendered concrete. The dining area was to be at the rear under a balcony from which
+the bedroom would open. Thus the section is similar to Wright’s Millard house of 1923.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>The earlier version of the house was intended to
+stand on the ground (Figure <a href='#i368'>44</a>); in the later scheme the
+whole cube of the house was to be lifted up on <i>pilotis</i>,
+that is, free-standing piers of reinforced concrete constituting,
+Perret-like, essential parts of the structural
+skeleton (Plate <a href='#pl160a'>160<span class='fss'>A</span></a>; Figure 45). Like Sullivan’s piers
+at the base of the Guaranty Building of 1894-5 (Plate #119:pl119)
+the effect of these <i>pilotis</i>, allowing circumambient
+space to pass under the enclosed building above, was
+to enhance very strongly the look of volume as opposed
+to mass. This treatment, possible only with skeleton
+construction in ferro-concrete, steel, or wood, soon
+became one of the most significant formal devices
+differentiating the new architecture of the twenties from
+what preceded it. The later Citrohan project was thus
+the first of the ‘boxes on stilts’ against which Wright
+continually protested, even though his own buildings
+themselves tended more and more frequently to be
+lifted off the ground by one means or another.</p>
+
+<div id='i369'  class='figright id007'>
+<img src='images/i369.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 45. Le Corbusier:<br />Second project for<br />Citrohan house, 1922,<br />plans and section</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the structural methods employed here by Le Corbusier
+came from Perret, the external expression of his
+lifted box seems rather to derive from Garnier or Loos,
+although the rendered surfaces were evidently intended
+to be smoother and flatter than those of Loos’s executed
+houses (Plate <a href='#pl155a'>155<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) and the pattern of the windows
+much more regularly organized in the wall-plane. With
+the roof terrace on top surrounded by parapets continuous
+with the wall-planes below, even the earlier
+type is apprehended as volume rather than mass,
+especially as there were no deep window reveals to
+suggest thickness in the walls such as appear in Garnier’s
+projects and Loos’s executed work. By keeping the
+openings absolutely in the wall-plane, as Hoffmann
+had done on the Stoclet house, the very exact geometrical
+discipline of the design of the façades could
+be maintained even when seen in perspective. As a
+result, however, the underlying structure was expressed
+only in the <i>pilotis</i> of the later project. Yet the wide
+expanse of the window-wall at the front and the
+characteristic shape of the other windows, oblongs
+extended horizontally,<a id="r466"></a><a href='#f466' class='c025'><sup>[466]</sup></a> would obviously not have
+been practical but for the long spans made possible by
+the ferro-concrete skeleton.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>There was in the Citrohan projects no very close similarity to Le Corbusier’s Purist
+pictures of these years other than the crisply geometrical ordering of the very flat façades
+and the untextured smoothness of their surfaces. However, the extreme mechanical
+precision and the more-than-Loosian rejection of the inessential clearly reflected an
+aesthetic parallel to that adumbrated in his paintings. Certainly the effect was—as Wright
+and others recurrently complained—likely to prove more pictorial than architectonic
+when such things were executed. There was no ornament such as Oud had, in some
+sense, obtained at Katwijk from his painter-collaborator van Doesburg; indeed, there
+was hardly any detail at all, at least as architectural detail was understood by Perret and
+Behrens. In this respect also Le Corbusier’s new architecture was closest to the personal
+style of Loos.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Articles in <i>L’Esprit nouveau</i> and later the illustrations in <i>Vers une architecture</i> revealed
+the sources of Le Corbusier’s extra-architectural inspiration and made such inspiration
+available to others who cared to look about them with his particular vision and his
+clearly defined ideals for the modern world. Works of engineering, American grain-elevators
+and the like;<a id="r467"></a><a href='#f467' class='c025'><sup>[467]</sup></a> the forms of things that move—ocean liners, motor cars and
+aeroplanes:<a id="r468"></a><a href='#f468' class='c025'><sup>[468]</sup></a> such things provided some of the visual prototypes for Le Corbusier’s new
+aesthetic of architecture.<a id="r469"></a><a href='#f469' class='c025'><sup>[469]</sup></a> But there was also the social motive of developing a method
+of building houses to satisfy the needs of all classes. Moreover, Le Corbusier was already—to
+use a term introduced later—as much a ‘planner’ as an architect. In 1922 he prepared
+a project for a city of three million inhabitants. This proposed at the core a
+geometrically ordered group of widely spaced cruciform skyscrapers and, round the
+core, ranges of blocks of flats of moderate height, not arranged along narrow streets,
+but broadly distributed over a park-like terrain.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Le Corbusier had many years to wait before the world caught up with his ideas as a
+planner as these were promulgated in his book <i>Urbanisme</i>, published in Paris in 1925.
+But as an architect<a id="r470"></a><a href='#f470' class='c025'><sup>[470]</sup></a> he was shortly building in and near Paris a series of houses, most
+of them of considerably greater size than his Citrohan project. Moreover, in 1927, at
+the Werkbund Exhibition in Stuttgart, he finally brought that to execution also,
+although some minor modifications were incorporated.<a id="r471"></a><a href='#f471' class='c025'><sup>[471]</sup></a> Le Corbusier’s very first post-war
+houses—one at Vaucresson, S.-et-O., near Paris, which has been remodelled quite
+beyond recognition, and the house for Ozenfant at 53 Avenue Reille in the Montrouge
+district of Paris, both designed in 1922 and built in 1923—were naturally not very
+adequate expressions of his ideals<a id="r472"></a><a href='#f472' class='c025'><sup>[472]</sup></a> (Figure <a href='#i371'>46</a>). But, beginning with the contiguous La
+Roche and Jeanneret houses, designed originally in 1922 also and executed with many
+modifications and improvements in 1924 in the Square du Dr Blanche in the Auteuil
+district of Paris, and culminating in the Savoye house at Poissy, S.-et-O., of 1929-30
+(Plate <a href='#pl159'>159</a>), the new aesthetic<a id="r473"></a><a href='#f473' class='c025'><sup>[473]</sup></a> of the Citrohan project was exploited with increasing
+virtuosity. Le Corbusier developed much further the spatial unity of his plans, usually
+keeping inside a defining rectangle but articulating that in various ways: at the Savoye
+house, for example, the main terrace is within the same raised box as the enclosed rooms
+(Figure <a href='#i372'>47</a>). The treatment of the exteriors likewise grew simpler and more open.
+Horizontal windows were grouped and extended to form continuous ribbons all the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>way across façades, and roofs at various levels, being completely flat, served as outdoor
+living-spaces. This is best seen at Les Terrasses (Plate <a href='#pl160b'>160<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), the house built in 1927 for
+Michael Stein at 17 Rue du Professeur Pauchet in Garches, S.-et-O.</p>
+
+<div id='i371'  class='figcenter id008'>
+<img src='images/i371.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 46. Le Corbusier:<br />Vaucresson, S.-et-O., house, 1923, plans</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Different colours were often used on different walls to emphasize them as individual
+planes, particularly in interiors. Curved elements, such as were introduced earlier in the
+plan of the Vaucresson house (Figure <a href='#i371'>46</a>), appeared at the Savoye house in screens that
+rose around the upper roof-terrace (Plate <a href='#pl159'>159</a>). Moreover, the geometrical discipline of
+his <i>tracés régulateurs</i> based on the Golden Section was used with ever-increasing consistency.<a id="r474"></a><a href='#f474' class='c025'><sup>[474]</sup></a>
+At the same time the use of different colours and of curves produced, particularly
+at the Savoye house, a lyricism closely related to that of Purist paintings of the
+early twenties. This is curious, since in his paintings dating from the late twenties Le
+Corbusier was moving away from Purism, under the influence of Fernand Léger (and
+perhaps even of Surrealism), towards a looser and more connotative mode.</p>
+
+<div id='i372'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>
+<img src='images/i372.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 47. Le Corbusier: Poissy, S.-et-O., Savoye house, 1929-30, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Le Corbusier was not the only architect of the new generation building houses in
+Paris in these years. Beside his, those by the Belgian Robert Mallet-Stevens (b. 1886)<a id="r475"></a><a href='#f475' class='c025'><sup>[475]</sup></a>
+are at once cruder and more superficial in their design. In the Rue Mallet-Stevens near
+Le Corbusier’s La Roche and Jeanneret houses, where he built several houses close together
+in 1926-7, he provided a somewhat depressing glimpse of the future, a glimpse
+which has often proved, alas, to be only too accurate a generation later. The Cité Seurat,
+on the other side of Paris near Le Corbusier’s Ozenfant house, offered an even larger
+group of new houses of the same period, several of them of much higher quality. The
+Chana Orloff house there is by Perret; but most of the others are by André Lurçat<a id="r476"></a><a href='#f476' class='c025'><sup>[476]</sup></a>
+(b. 1892), an architect of much more integrity than Mallet-Stevens, if without Le Corbusier’s
+genius. The best of Lurçat’s houses, where they have been adequately maintained,
+possess certain common-sense virtues that Le Corbusier’s lack; in the late twenties
+and early thirties they provided paradigms at least as popular as Le Corbusier’s. His school
+of 1931 in Villejuif, Seine, has a special importance also, as it was in the field of school-building<a id="r477"></a><a href='#f477' class='c025'><sup>[477]</sup></a>
+that the new architecture first became widely accepted later in the thirties in
+several countries. Le Corbusier’s activity was much greater than Lurçat’s, however, and
+in one major project at least he extended the scope of the new architecture far beyond
+the realm of the modest private dwellings that he and Lurçat were so largely restricted
+to building in the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1925, in the Pavilion de l’Esprit Nouveau at the Paris Exposition des Arts Décoratifs,
+Le Corbusier had shown a dwelling unit of the Citrohan type arranged as a flat with
+a large terrace at one side, following an unexecuted project of 1922. The actual housing
+estate that he built at Pessac outside Bordeaux in 1925-6 was less successful, although by
+this time many young architects concerned with housing in other countries were finding
+inspiration in his work and perhaps even more in his ideas. But it was in an entirely
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>different realm that Le Corbusier had, like Saarinen in the Chicago Tribune competition,
+a failure which was nonetheless a tremendous <i>succès d’estime</i>. Le Corbusier’s
+project for the Palace of the League of Nations<a id="r478"></a><a href='#f478' class='c025'><sup>[478]</sup></a> came very close to winning the
+competition of 1927. Moreover, the totally undistinguished scheme jointly produced
+by the elderly Frenchman P.-H. Nénot (1853-1934), who had built the new Sorbonne
+in Paris in 1884-9, and various other architects from several different countries eventually
+executed in Geneva never received the attention or the flattery of world-wide
+emulation and imitation which Le Corbusier’s project did. This led, for example, to his
+selection to design the Centrosoyus in Moscow in 1928. Begun the following year, this
+was finally finished in 1936, but with most inadequate supervision. However, the Communist
+‘party line’<a id="r479"></a><a href='#f479' class='c025'><sup>[479]</sup></a> turned sharply against modern architecture in the early thirties,
+and no more projects by Western European architects were invited after the Palace of
+the Soviets competition held in 1931.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If Le Corbusier in the twenties was, by force of circumstances, almost more completely
+restricted to house-building than Wright had been in the preceding decades,
+Gropius’s career in Germany developed very differently. In 1925 he was invited by the
+city of Dessau to come there from Weimar and re-establish the Bauhaus; in that year
+and the next he had a chance to build a very large and complex structure to house
+the school as well as his own and several other professors’ houses. The houses were
+not notable additions to the new canon, although they were soon as much imitated
+as Le Corbusier’s and Lurçat’s. However, the Bauhaus building itself was the first
+major example of the new architecture to be executed, illustrating on a large scale
+most of its possibilities and principal themes, none of them by this date altogether
+novel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most striking element of the Bauhaus is the studio block, a four-storeyed glass
+box (Plate <a href='#pl161a'>161<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This carried to its logical limit the implications of the near-curtain-wall
+of the Fagus Factory, quite as Mies had already proposed for his two glass skyscraper
+projects, but without their Expressionist planning. The bridge to the left of this block
+exploits the possibilities of great spans in ferro-concrete construction. Throughout that
+section and the block on the left ribbon-windows longer than Le Corbusier’s at Les
+Terrasses open up the walls just as Mies had already proposed to do in a notable project
+of 1922 for a ferro-concrete office building. A lower refectory wing links the glazed
+block with an apartment tower at the rear; in that the grouping of the horizontal windows
+with the many little projecting balconies clearly expresses the fact that this portion
+of the building is made up of small repeated dwelling units.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The organization of this very complex structure is asymmetrical but carefully studied
+(Figure <a href='#i374'>48</a>). Where Le Corbusier had thus far composed most of his houses inside a
+single ‘box’, Gropius here combined four or more. In each he emphasized visually the
+fact that the surface was but a thin shell enclosing an internal volume, but he varied the
+treatment according to the internal use of each portion of the building. At the same time
+regularity of rhythm, and often identity of measure in the parts, ordered the whole
+without recourse to symmetry or to the imposition of any such special system of proportion
+as Le Corbusier was enthusiastically developing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>Gropius did not again, until late in life in America, have such another architectural
+opportunity. In the following years, down to his departure from Germany with the rise
+of Hitler, his production was almost entirely in the field of low-cost housing. There he
+had the large-scale responsibilities largely denied to Le Corbusier until after the Second
+World War, but common enough by then in Germany.<a id="r480"></a><a href='#f480' class='c025'><sup>[480]</sup></a> First, in 1926-8, came the
+Törten Estate at Dessau consisting of terrace houses of concrete with smoothly rendered
+walls and horizontal windows. These were sound and economical but somewhat dull in
+design, the very reverse of Le Corbusier’s at Pessac. At the Werkbund Exhibition of 1927,
+moreover, Gropius’s free-standing houses did not rival Le Corbusier’s in quality of design,
+despite their considerable technical importance as early examples of something
+approaching total prefabrication.</p>
+
+<div id='i374'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i374.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 48. Walter Gropius: Dessau, Bauhaus, 1925-6, plans</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius’s most finished works of the twenties were all at Dessau. Besides the Bauhaus
+itself, there is a small block of flats rising at the end of a row of one-storey shops to form
+the centre of the Törten Estate of 1928. But even more notable is the Dessau City Employment
+Office, begun the year before. Here Gropius rejected stucco rendering,<a id="r481"></a><a href='#f481' class='c025'><sup>[481]</sup></a>
+hitherto almost as much the sign manual of the new architecture in Germany as in
+France, and surfaced his walls with brick (Plate <a href='#pl161b'>161<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The horizontal strips of window
+in the office wing, carefully related to the narrow bands of wall between and elegantly
+subdivided by light metal sash, are balanced with bold assurance against the tall vertical
+light of the stair tower at one end. Whether Gropius had learned from the Neoplasticists
+or the Constructivists, by this time he had become a master of abstract architectural
+composition in his own right.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Leaving the Bauhaus in 1928, Gropius next undertook a large housing estate,
+Dammerstock, at Karlsruhe. Here he combined terrace houses, somewhat ampler in size
+and less mechanically designed than those at Törten, with ranges of six-storey blocks of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>flats in the form of long, rigidly orientated slabs. Following this came the Siemensstadt
+Estate of 1930 outside Berlin (Plate <a href='#pl162a'>162<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). This is the classic example of housing in tall,
+thin slabs, prototype of innumerable similar estates to be built throughout the western
+world before and after the Second World War. In Germany, however, where the form
+was first adumbrated, their production ceased in 1933 with the onset of the Hitler
+regime—it has since been revived very actively, particularly by Ernst May at Hamburg
+and by architects of several countries in the Interbau exhibition of 1957 in Berlin.</p>
+
+<div id='i375'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i375.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 49. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Project for brick country house, 1922, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mies in the twenties was not nearly so prolific as Gropius, nor was he so widely influential.
+His Wolf house of 1926 at Guben and the Lange and Esters houses at Krefeld
+of 1926 and 1928, side by side in the Wilhelmshofallee, despite their fine dark brickwork<a id="r482"></a><a href='#f482' class='c025'><sup>[482]</sup></a>
+and the careful placing of the large horizontal windows, did not redeem the promise
+of an earlier project which he had made in 1922 for a country house; that was comparable
+in significance to his skyscraper schemes of the preceding years. Its plan seemed
+to represent the extension upward of a complex, but very rigid, geometrical pattern like
+those seen in Mondriaan’s and van Doesburg’s paintings of this period (Figure <a href='#i375'>49</a>). This
+sort of planning allowed a continuous flow of space in and around internal partitioning
+elements and out through wall-high glass areas to the surrounding terraces, themselves
+defined by the extension of the solid brick walls of the house. This openness more
+than rivalled, and was probably influenced by, the spatial flow in the Prairie Houses of
+Wright. Neoplasticist influence continued strong in Mies’s work as late as his Liebknecht-Luxemburg
+Monument in Berlin of 1926. This was an abstract rectangular
+block, ingeniously composed of various brick surfaces arranged in different planes. (It
+was, of course, destroyed under Hitler.)</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The flats that Mies built in the Afrikanische Strasse in Berlin in 1924-5 were more in
+line with Gropius’s and Le Corbusier’s contemporary work than his private houses.
+Moreover, his block of flats (Plate <a href='#pl162b'>162<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) at the Werkbund Exhibition of 1927 on the
+Weissenhof at Stuttgart, of which he was the general director, with its lines of broad
+window-bands broken occasionally by vertical stair-windows, had an elasticity of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>planning and a clarity and subtlety of expression much superior to Gropius’s taller and
+longer slabs at Dammerstock and Siemensstadt.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1929 came Mies’s masterpiece, one of the few buildings by which the twentieth
+century might wish to be measured against the great ages of the past (Plate <a href='#pl165a'>165<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The
+German Pavilion at the Barcelona Exhibition, although built of permanent materials—steel,
+glass, marble, and travertine—was, like most exhibition buildings, only temporary.
+But few structures have come to be so widely known after their demolition, or so intensely
+admired through reproductions, except perhaps Paxton’s Crystal Palace. Set on
+a raised travertine base almost like a Greek stylobate, in which lies an oblong reflecting
+pool, the space within the pavilion was defined by no bounding walls at all but solely
+by the rectangle of its thin roof-slab. This was supported, almost immaterially, on a few
+regularly spaced metal members of delicate cruciform section sheathed in chromium.
+The covered area was subdivided, rather in the manner of the project of 1922 for a brick
+country house, by tall plate-glass panels carried in light metal chassis, some transparent,
+some opaque, and also by screens of highly polished marble standing apart from the
+metal supports. The disposition of these screens is asymmetrical but exquisitely ordered;
+yet it has none of that Neoplasticist complexity evident in the placing of the partitioning
+elements in the project of 1922. As a result, the articulated space of the pavilion has a
+classic serenity quite unlike the more dynamically flowing interiors of Wright’s houses.
+At the Berlin Building Exhibition in 1931 Mies repeated the Barcelona Pavilion in less
+sumptuous materials, making only slight changes in the plan so that it might provide a
+model for a house.</p>
+
+<div id='i376'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i376.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 50. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Brno, Tugendhat house, 1930, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>More than a little of the special quality of space-distribution in this exhibit Mies had
+been able to achieve already in the Tugendhat house of 1930 at Brno in Czechoslovakia.
+There also the screens that subdivide the unified living-space are quite separate
+from the delicate cruciform metal supports (Figure <a href='#i376'>50</a>). One of them, made of macassar
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>ebony, partially encloses the dining-area and is semicircular in plan, thus notably enriching
+the general spatial effect. Externally this house is less remarkable. At the upper,
+or entrance, level towards the street it is quite closed in and even rather forbidding; but
+at the rear towards the garden there is a continuous, room-high glass wall framed by
+stucco bands above and below. At one end an open terrace is included within the rectangle
+of the plan, and from this a broad flight of stone stairs descends to the ground.
+The contrast with the somewhat similar rear of Le Corbusier’s Les Terrasses expresses
+well the considerable range of different effects possible within the tight limits of the new
+architecture even in this, its most rigidly doctrinaire period of the late twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Within the twenties, both in France and in Germany, the new architecture received
+its full formulation, first in projects and shortly afterwards in executed work. At the
+same time Le Corbusier and Gropius provided in articles and in books the arguments in
+its defence.<a id="r483"></a><a href='#f483' class='c025'><sup>[483]</sup></a> Both are extremely articulate men, the one with the emotional intensity of
+a poet or a preacher, the other with the cool logic of a scientist or a professor. They
+soon found excited readers and later devoted followers all over the western world as their
+writings were exported, translated,<a id="r484"></a><a href='#f484' class='c025'><sup>[484]</sup></a> and paraphrased; but the significant activity of this
+period was by no means only French and German. Despite the continuing vitality of
+the Amsterdam School through the mid twenties, the new Dutch school associated with
+Rotterdam rose rapidly in national and international significance. Oud,<a id="r485"></a><a href='#f485' class='c025'><sup>[485]</sup></a> indeed,
+brought the new architecture to maturity in Holland in precisely the same years as Le
+Corbusier and their German contemporaries; Rietveld and several others made signal
+contributions also, in Rietveld’s case perhaps equal in importance to Oud’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Oud Mathenesse housing estate at Rotterdam, which Oud undertook in 1922, is
+rather different from Spangen and Tuschendijken. At first sight it may appear more conservative,
+since it consists of small terrace houses with visible tiled roofs rather than tall
+blocks of flats. But rendered and painted walls replaced the brick of the earlier Rotterdam
+work, recalling the Loos-like treatment of his seaside villas as also the rather
+Wrightian projects he had designed in the intervening years. Moreover, the shapes and
+subdivisions of the windows were very carefully considered, so that the general effect is
+quite similar to the most advanced projects of Le Corbusier and of Mies designed
+in this same year. The influence of the <i>De Stijl</i> artists may not be very apparent in the
+façades of the houses and shops; but in the temporary building superintendent’s office
+that Oud built here in 1923 cubical wooden elements painted in primary colours produced
+a composition quite like a Neoplasticist painting developed in three dimensions.
+It should be noted, however, that this was not, like Dudok’s work of the period, at all
+related to the very complex Neoplasticist sculpture of Vantongerloo. Oud’s façade
+of 1925 for the Café de Unie in Rotterdam, being two-dimensional, was even more like
+a Mondrian painting raised to architectural scale.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It has already been mentioned that in 1923 van Doesburg was engaged in collaboration
+with van Eesteren on some remarkable studies, half abstract paintings, half architectural
+isometrics. Rietveld, in the Schroeder house of 1924 in Utrecht (Plate <a href='#pl164b'>164<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), boldly
+carried such a hypothetical Neoplasticist architecture of discrete planes and structural lines
+into the world of reality even more completely than in his earlier shop in Amsterdam.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>But by this time, Oud felt he had learned what Neoplasticism had to offer him. He
+was in any case now personally closer to Mondrian than to van Doesburg, and Mondrian
+had left Holland for Paris. In Oud’s first really mature work, which remains also
+his masterpiece, two terraces with shops at their ends built at the Hook of Holland in
+1926-7 but designed a year or two earlier, all overt emulation of contemporary painting
+disappeared, except for the restriction of colour to white-painted rendering with only
+small touches of the primaries on some of the minor elements of wood and metal
+(Plate <a href='#pl163b'>163<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The serenity of these smooth façades with their long regular ranges of
+horizontal windows, the extreme refinement of the detailing of the fences and the
+doorways, and, above all, the lyricism of the rounded shops, their walls all of glass
+under a cantilevered slab bent down at the ends, were unequalled by anything Le
+Corbusier or Gropius or Mies had yet built. Reputedly it was the influence of Van de
+Velde that led Oud to introduce curves here, much to the disgust of the Neoplasticists.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Oud’s terrace-houses in the 1927 exhibition at Stuttgart were equally exemplary in
+their perfection of finish but slightly less interesting in their over-all design. Those by
+a still younger Dutch architect, Mart Stam (b. 1899), were perhaps superior. Then there
+followed Oud’s very large Kiefhoek housing project at Rotterdam which was built
+in 1928-30. Here the windows of the upper storey of each terrace became a continuous
+band, but something of the earlier refinement was lost just as in Gropius’s Siemensstadt
+blocks of the same period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Kiefhoek Oud was called on to provide a church as well as housing. Its vices as
+well as its virtues epitomize very well the state of the new architecture at the end of the
+decade (Plate <a href='#pl164a'>164<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Considered as elements in an abstract composition, the handling
+of the subordinate features of the Kiefhoek church is masterly, refining and—as it were—domesticating
+various adjuncts of an almost industrial order such as had earlier provided
+a good part of the varied visual interest of Gropius’s Fagus Factory. But the main
+auditorium block is so box-like that it holds its place among the rows of houses only by
+its size, offering no expression whatsoever of its special purpose—it could as easily be a
+garage. A far more notable exemplar of the new architecture, still about the finest
+twentieth-century building in Holland, is the van Nelle Factory outside Rotterdam built
+in 1927-8 by the firm of J. A. Brinkman (1902-49) and L. C. van der Vlugt (b. 1894) but
+probably designed by Stam (Plate <a href='#pl163a'>163<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The Dutch firm of B. Bijvoet (b. 1889) and
+Johannes Duiker (1890-1935) should also be mentioned for their admirable work of
+the twenties, starting with several Wrightian houses of 1924 at Kijkduin, but soon
+quite as advanced as Oud’s or Rietveld’s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The conditions of the twenties—or more precisely the particular conditions under
+which the new architects had to work and, to a large extent, even seemed satisfied to
+work—restricted their scope rather considerably. In France the usual clients, often
+American rather than French, sought houses that were <i>avant-garde</i> and related ideologically
+to the painting of the Cubists and Post-Cubists. Towards the utilitarian field of low-cost
+housing the new architects everywhere felt a special responsibility; in Germany and
+Holland they readily found major opportunities for official employment at such work.
+Their intense concern with the aesthetic potentialities of engineering gave them a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>special sympathy for industrial building, but major opportunities such as the van Nelle
+Factory were very rare. Gropius’s Bauhaus, a large and complex structure serving a
+cultural purpose, and the Barcelona Pavilion, an edifice with almost no other purpose
+than to be beautiful, were important exceptions in a range of production characterized
+by a surprising international consistency of type as well as of character.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet the hands of the various individual architects are, in fact, never difficult to distinguish
+and, from this time onwards, the paths of the four early leaders began definitely
+to diverge. It was chiefly the work of late-comers, of whom there were in the twenties
+large numbers only in Germany, that tended towards monotony and anonymity. Not
+since the early years of the nineteenth century, when Romantic Classicism at the hands
+of a second generation reached a comparable clarity of stylistic definition, had there
+been such a rigid and humbly accepted architectural discipline. However, certain men,
+such as Mendelsohn and Dudok, retained in their practice of the new architecture
+strong traces of earlier idiosyncrasies. Much of their work lacks therefore the purity and
+the assured mastery of the four initiators. But Mendelsohn’s Schocken Department
+Stores, built in several German cities in the late twenties—at Nuremberg and Stuttgart
+in 1926-7, at Chemnitz in 1928—and his Petersdorf Store at Breslau in 1927 are certainly
+superior in interest and in vitality to the new city houses and suburban villas in France;
+not to speak of the housing estates in Germany that were being produced in such considerable
+quantity by the end of the decade by architects who were literalistic adherents
+of the new architecture. The work of such designers showed all the naive enthusiasm,
+the subjection to discipline, and the doctrinaire characteristics of the activity of new
+converts in any field.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But when, in his Columbus Haus of 1929-31 in Berlin, Mendelsohn finally accepted
+a comparable discipline he was able to retain most of his earlier vitality. Here he produced
+a really paradigmatic commercial building—almost a small skyscraper—such as
+none of the four leaders ever had the opportunity of carrying to execution in the twenties.
+Much the same can be said for a considerably later ‘baby skyscraper’, Dudok’s
+Erasmus Huis of 1939-40 in the Coolsingel in Rotterdam. This is still, after the van
+Nelle Factory, one of the best buildings in Rotterdam, despite all the post-war reconstruction
+there (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As the new architecture spread to other countries around 1930 it was naturally the
+lowest common denominator of its potentialities that became most widely evident.
+However, at just this point an international depression supervened; the building
+boom, with which the rise of the new architecture had been at best but coincidentally
+associated, soon ground to a standstill. In Germany in the early thirties, moreover, as
+also in Russia and considerably later and less rigidly in Italy, an authoritarian regime proscribed
+the new architecture. Leaders like Gropius, Mies, and Mendelsohn left the
+country and the new architecture was in abeyance there until after Hitler’s fall.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span>
+  <h2 id='ch23' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 23</span><br />LATER WORK OF THE LEADERS OF THE SECOND GENERATION</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Historians</span>, whether of politics or the arts, should ideally stand at some distance
+from their subjects thanks to remoteness in time; in lieu of that, remoteness in space
+sometimes serves the same purpose. However, this historian has now reached the point
+at which he entered the scene; he must write, as statesmen who write history are often
+forced to do, of events concerning which he has first-hand knowledge—and hence,
+alas, first-hand prejudices. Architects, the real actors in architectural history, often write
+as well as build; since Vitruvius there have been many whose fame depends as much on
+their books as on their buildings, not least several of the men with whom Part Three of
+this book has dealt. But those who write about architecture as historians and critics
+without being active builders, who merely explain, select, and illustrate the significant
+work of their own day or even of the past—particularly the immediate past—are to
+some extent minor actors on the scene also. They cannot, therefore, be merely neutral
+observers, reporting without <i>parti pris</i> the ideas and the achievements of others, however
+hard they may try to maintain their objectivity.</p>
+<p class='c010'>To have written the only monograph on Wright to appear in French, to have provided
+the first account in English of the new architecture, to have published a book on
+the work of Oud in the late twenties, modest as these contributions were, are all actions
+indicating an early commitment on the part of this author. The preparation in 1931
+with Philip Johnson of the first International Exhibition of Modern Architecture, held
+at the Museum of Modern Art in 1932, in which Le Corbusier, Gropius, Oud, and Mies
+were signalized as the leaders of the new architecture, and the publication—also with
+Philip Johnson—of the book called <i>The International Style</i><a id="r486"></a><a href='#f486' class='c025'><sup>[486]</sup></a> at that time were even more
+definite and controversial acts of participation in the dialectic of architectural development
+in this century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If it seems necessary to mention these publications here and not merely to refer to
+them in the Notes or list them in the Bibliography, it is in no spirit of boastfulness but
+rather of apology. From this point on the ideal objectivity of the historian, attempting
+disinterestedly to piece the past together from a study of its extant monuments and
+from relevant contemporary documents, is inevitably coloured, if not cancelled out, by
+the subjectivity of the critic writing of events he knew at first hand. Concerning them,
+of course, his present opinions have no more real historical validity than those he held
+and published nearer the time when the events occurred. With this proviso the canvas
+may now be somewhat broadened.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>By the early thirties the new architecture was by no means restricted to France, Germany,
+and Holland, the countries where it had originated. Yet, with the possible exception
+of Alvar Aalto (b. 1898) in Finland, no other leader of the calibre of the early four
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>had appeared up to that time. The building of 1928-9 at Turku for the newspaper <i>Turun
+Sanomat</i> was Aalto’s first mature work to be completed. In this the plastic handling of
+the concrete piers<a id="r487"></a><a href='#f487' class='c025'><sup>[487]</sup></a> in the interior introduced a new and personal note of architectural
+expression in a frankly industrial setting. His Tuberculosis Sanatorium at Paimio of
+1929-33 rivalled the Bauhaus in size, if not perhaps in complexity, and was almost the
+first<a id="r488"></a><a href='#f488' class='c025'><sup>[488]</sup></a> major demonstration of the special applicability of the new architecture to hospitals.
+The City Library at Viipuri, designed as early as 1927 but not finished until 1935,
+was a more original example of the new architecture. In particular, the lecture hall
+there, with its acoustic ceiling of irregularly wavy section made up of strips of wood, was
+strikingly novel.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the United States the Lovell house in Los Angeles opened in 1929 the American
+career of Richard J. Neutra (b. 1892), an Austrian who had worked briefly with Wright.
+In this house, with its cantilevers, its broad areas of glass, and its volumetric composition,
+Neutra showed the completeness with which he had already rejected the broad
+Wrightian road and accepted the more restricted aspirations of the newer architecture of
+Europe. Never, perhaps, have Wright’s ideals and those of the next generation appeared
+so sharply opposed as at just this time, moreover. But Neutra’s mature work began only
+considerably later than this.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1930-2 the tallest of all skyscrapers, the Empire State Building by Shreve, Lamb &amp;
+Harmon, was rising in New York; this was a shaped tower in the local tradition
+although devoid of reminiscent stylistic detail. In these same years, however, a well-established
+‘traditional’ architect, George Howe (1886-1954),<a id="r489"></a><a href='#f489' class='c025'><sup>[489]</sup></a> in association
+with a Swiss, William E. Lescaze (b. 1896), who had been a pupil of
+Karl Moser, returned to the Sullivanian slab in designing the
+Philadelphia Savings Fund Society Building (Plate #169:pl169). Moreover, they
+treated their slab along the lines that the leading European exponents
+of the new architecture had adumbrated in the previous ten years. It
+would be a score of years before other skyscrapers of such significant
+and distinguished design were built in American cities (see Chapter
+25).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Sweden E. G. Asplund (1885-1940), whose architecture had hitherto been of a
+‘Neo-Neo-Classic’ order, extremely crisp and refined but definitely reminiscent,<a id="r490"></a><a href='#f490' class='c025'><sup>[490]</sup></a>
+turned to the new architecture of Le Corbusier and Gropius just before he completed the
+Central Library of Stockholm (Plate <a href='#pl176a'>176<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), a building first projected in 1921 but not
+opened until 1928 (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>). For the Stockholm Exhibition of 1930, of which he
+had entire charge, Asplund was soon designing an extensive and elegantly varied range
+of pavilions that exploited to the full the possibilities of the new architecture. In Denmark
+Kay Fisker (b. 1893) underwent a somewhat less drastic conversion at much the
+same time.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These years also saw the beginning of the English career of Berthold Lubetkin<a id="r491"></a><a href='#f491' class='c025'><sup>[491]</sup></a>
+(b. 1901), a Russian who had settled in England in 1930 after working for some time
+in France. His early Gorilla House at the Regent’s Park Zoo in London was soon outshone
+by the smaller, but much more remarkable, Penguin Pool there of 1933-5, which
+is almost a piece of Constructivist sculpture (Plate <a href='#pl172b'>172<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). In 1933-5 also, the tall block
+of middle-class flats, Highpoint I at Highgate outside London, was erected by the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>Tecton group, of which Lubetkin was the leading spirit. With its fine hill-top site overlooking
+Hampstead Heath, this cruciform tower rivalled Le Corbusier’s Clarté block in
+Geneva of 1930-2 in interest and in quality. Almost equally impressive, and like Highpoint
+hardly rivalled by comparable work in London since, is the Peter Jones Department
+Store in Sloane Square, designed in 1935 by William Crabtree.<a id="r492"></a><a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a> Already in
+1933 Mendelsohn had settled in England, practising there for a few years in partnership
+with Serge Chermayeff (b. 1900) before moving on to Israel in 1936. From 1934 to 1937
+Gropius was in England working with E. Maxwell Fry (b. 1899); Marcel Breuer (b.
+1902), a Hungarian pupil of Gropius from the Bauhaus, was also in England working
+with F. R. S. Yorke (1906-62). By the mid thirties Connell, Ward &amp; Lucas,<a id="r493"></a><a href='#f493' class='c025'><sup>[493]</sup></a> Wells
+Coates (1895-1958), and Frederick Gibberd (b. 1908) were also well started on their
+careers.<a id="r494"></a><a href='#f494' class='c025'><sup>[494]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Italy, where the projects of an architect associated with Futurism,<a id="r495"></a><a href='#f495' class='c025'><sup>[495]</sup></a> Antonio
+Sant’Elia (1888-1916), before his death in the First World War had offered a remarkable
+premonition of the new architecture of the twenties, a fresh talent at least comparable
+in interest and individuality to Lubetkin’s appeared on the scene in these years. The
+Casa del Fascio at Como of 1932-6 by Giuseppe Terragni (1904-43) is almost as
+original as Aalto’s Viipuri Library but very different (Plate <a href='#pl172a'>172<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). In its use of fine
+marbles and in its innate classicism it recalls Mies, yet it is as Mediterranean in spirit as
+his work is Northern. Unfortunately, like Sant’Elia before him, Terragni was killed
+in the Second World War that followed within a few years after the start of his career.
+However, the firm of Luigi Figini (b. 1903) and Gino Pollini (b. 1903), who continue to
+be leaders of Italian modern architecture, also made their first mark at this time with the
+‘Artist’s House’ that they showed at the Fifth Triennale in Milan in 1933. This was
+similarly calm and Latin in its handling of the ‘international’ vocabulary of form.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Florence railway station, built in 1934-6 by Giovanni Michelucci (b. 1891) and
+five associated architects, also deserves mention. Michelucci is not to be compared
+with Terragni or Figini &amp; Pollini, but his station was stylistically the most advanced
+in the world when it was built. Moreover, like the Casa del Fascio in Como, it offers
+notable evidence of the support the Fascist regime was still giving to <i>architettura razionale</i>
+at a time when both in Germany and in Russia other authoritarian regimes were denouncing
+the International Style. The Termini Station in Rome (Plate <a href='#pl183b'>183<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) was begun
+even earlier from the designs of Angiolo Mazzoni. It owes its distinguished reputation
+as the finest station of the twentieth century, however, to the new project of Eugenio
+Montuori (b. 1907) and his associates, prepared in 1947 and finally carried to effective
+completion in 1951 (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet for all the increasingly wide spread of the new architecture by the mid thirties,
+Le Corbusier and two Germans retained their international position of leadership despite
+economic depression in France and Hitlerian exile from Germany. If the amount of their
+executed work was much reduced—in the case of Mies for several years to nil—the geographical
+range of their activities was now much extended. Today, for example, Le Corbusier’s
+work is to be found from La Plata in Argentina to Chandigarh in India; he was
+also a consultant on two of the largest and most striking buildings in the New World
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>built just before and just after the Second World War, the Ministry of Education and
+Public Health in Rio (Plate <a href='#pl171'>171</a>) and the United Nations Secretariat<a id="r496"></a><a href='#f496' class='c025'><sup>[496]</sup></a> in New York.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius and Mies, settling in America in the late thirties, became figures of crucial
+importance in the reform of American architectural education<a id="r497"></a><a href='#f497' class='c025'><sup>[497]</sup></a> as well as being increasingly
+productive as architects since the war. At Harvard University<a id="r498"></a><a href='#f498' class='c025'><sup>[498]</sup></a> and at the
+Illinois Institute of Technology, respectively, they set a pace for several American architects
+who later became leading educators, such as Howe at Yale and W. W. Wurster
+(b. 1895) at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the University of California.
+Mendelsohn, still very much of an individualist, but with a notable international reputation
+based on what he had built in England and in Israel as well as on his earlier work of
+the twenties in Germany, practised in America from after the war down to his death.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>This extension of the field of activity and the direct influence of the European
+leaders further emphasized the universal character of the new architecture. Today
+American architects, such as the firm of Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill,<a id="r499"></a><a href='#f499' class='c025'><sup>[499]</sup></a> working as far
+from home as Turkey, or Edward D. Stone (b. 1902), building on three continents,
+provide almost the most characteristic later examples of what—and in their cases most
+critics would agree—is not improperly called the International Style. The American
+Embassies in Copenhagen and in Stockholm, and the flats for embassy personnel at
+Neuilly and at Boulogne outside Paris, all by Rapson<a id="r500"></a><a href='#f500' class='c025'><sup>[500]</sup></a> &amp; Van de Gracht, are perhaps
+the most distinguished examples of American work abroad of the 1950s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But there would have been no El Panamá Hotel in Panama (1950) by Stone, no Istanbul
+Hilton Hotel (1954) by the Skidmore firm, and no such foreign building programme
+by the United States Government as was responsible for the executed embassies by
+Rapson &amp; Van de Gracht of the early fifties and the ones since built by Eero Saarinen
+in London and Oslo, by Gropius and TAC in Athens, by Stone in New Delhi, and by
+Breuer in The Hague but for the pioneering of the Europeans, nor did that pioneering
+cease in the thirties. Only in Oud’s case, because of a serious indisposition that removed
+him from practice for many years after 1930, was the <i>œuvre</i> effectively complete with
+the twenties; and even he is now quite active again. In the case of both Le Corbusier
+and Mies, if not of Gropius, their largest commissions came only after the Second
+World War. Their influence in the 1950s was still as great as around 1930, in Mies’s
+case considerably greater. The mid twentieth century had come to accept stylistic continuity
+in a way that the nineteenth century, was never able to do once the tradition
+of Romantic Classicism finally wore out. The often adventurous late work of these
+men, now become elder statesmen of modern architecture, fortunately counter-balanced
+to some extent those more rigid interpretations of the discipline they founded,
+interpretations that recurrently threatened after the late twenties to become academic
+and frozen in one country or another.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Many of the more characteristic demands of Le Corbusier’s aesthetic canon, as it had
+been announced in his projects of the early twenties and adumbrated in the succession
+of houses that led up to the Savoye house of 1929-30—including restrictions docilely
+accepted almost everywhere by advanced architects in the late twenties—were already
+ignored in the buildings he himself designed in the early thirties. The house that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>he built for Hélène de Mandrot at Le Pradet in Provence in 193O-1 is raised on no
+<i>pilotis</i> but sits firmly on a terrace; and its walls, where solid, are of rough, uncoursed
+rubble. Quiet and rectangular, with no lyrically curved elements and little painted
+colour, this house accepts the surrounding landscape as Wright’s had always done. Le
+Corbusier seemed here almost to be avowing a respect for local materials and humble
+village craftsmanship such as is associated with Voysey and his English contemporaries
+of a generation earlier that would certainly have been anathema to him in the twenties.
+On the other hand, the penthouse that he built in 1931 for Carlos de Beistegui on top
+of a block of flats on the Champs Élysées in Paris was all of plate glass and white
+marble. This had something of the glittering elegance of Mies’s Barcelona Pavilion of
+two years earlier, where the polished marbles, once so brilliantly exploited by Loos, were
+first brought back after a decade of restriction to ascetic and impermanent surfaces of
+painted stucco.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Salvation Army Building which Le Corbusier erected in 1931-2 in the Rue Cantagrel
+in Paris is more in line with the canon of the twenties. Unfortunately the original
+curtain-wall is now cut up by projecting sun-breaks added in a post-war refurbishing by
+Le Corbusier’s former partner Pierre Jeanneret. The Maison Clarté block of flats of
+1930-2 in Geneva is almost as completely glass-walled.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It was most notably the Swiss Hostel at the Cité Universitaire in Paris, designed in
+1930 and built in 1931-2, which introduced various quite new elements of plan and
+design that Le Corbusier would develop much further after the Second World War
+(Plate <a href='#pl165b'>165<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The <i>pilotis</i> he used in the twenties were thin and round, rather like Perret’s
+columns, though without their facets and capitals; but here a double row of heavy piers
+of a complex moulded section carries a dormitory block that is boldly cantilevered
+out from them both front and back. The rubble masonry of the Mandrot house was
+used here once more for a tall unbroken wall of irregularly curved plan at the rear of the
+building; the textured and tonal surface of this wall and its effect of solidity contrasts
+both with the exposed concrete of the structural elements and with the smooth areas of
+thin stone plaquage on the upper walls. Curves in Le Corbusier’s earlier work were
+almost always confined within a bounding rectangle and never made of massive
+materials; yet they lost none of their elegance in being handled in this bolder and more
+organic way. This is closely related to his later paintings, of which the mural in the
+common room here provides a major example.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The international depression closed in even more completely on France in the early
+thirties than it did elsewhere, and there was no subsequent revival of building activity
+such as other countries experienced in the years preceding the Second World War. Le
+Corbusier’s activities were therefore more and more confined to projects, most of them
+for commissions outside France. However, a small block of flats, very similar to the
+Maison Clarté in Geneva, was built at 24 Avenue Nungesser et Coli on the western
+edge of Paris in 1933. The most interesting portion of this is the architect’s own penthouse
+on top; there, like another Soane, he experimented at small scale with a variety
+of vault-topped spaces.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In a modest house at 49 Avenue du Chesnay in Vaucresson of 1935 there are no more
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span>curves in plan than in the Mandrot house, but segmental concrete vaults cover the
+rectangular bays of which the plan is made up. Moreover, as if to underline Le Corbusier’s
+return towards nature after his earlier devotion to the abstract and the mechanistic,
+grass grows over their crowns to provide insulation. The exposed frame of the concrete
+structure, where not filled with glass brick, has panels of coursed rubble.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Le Corbusier’s projects of the thirties often included new ideas that others exploited
+even before he was able to do so himself in executed work. For example, the Ministry
+of Education and Public Health in Rio de Janeiro, on which he was a consultant only,
+designed in 1937 and completed in 1942 by Lúcio Costa (b. 1902), Oscar Niemeyer (b.
+1907), and a group of others, the great building which opened so brilliantly the story of
+the new architecture in Brazil (Plate <a href='#pl171'>171</a>), included on the west front the projecting
+sun-breaks he had first proposed in 1933 for certain tall buildings intended to be erected
+in Algiers. Such sun-breaks soon became characteristic of mid-century architecture in
+all countries where the sun’s heat and glare offered a major problem—in Asia and
+Africa as much as in South America. By this device the all-glass wall, favourite large-scale
+theme of the new architecture since Mies’s early skyscraper projects, received
+a much-needed functional correction. As often before, a real (or supposed) practical
+need encouraged the satisfaction of overt or covert aesthetic aspirations; for sun-breaks
+very much enhance the three-dimensional interest of large façades, substituting for the
+slick planar effects characteristic of the twenties a more articulated sort of surface treatment
+related to, but independent of, the expression of skeleton structure. Sun-breaks
+even came to be used where they are hardly needed, quite as has been the case with
+various other clichés of modern architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Since the war three major works of Le Corbusier, in the estimation of many critics
+his masterpieces, have carried much further the sculptural tendencies of his architecture
+of the thirties. One of these, the block of flats called the Unité d’Habitation,<a id="r501"></a><a href='#f501' class='c025'><sup>[501]</sup></a> far out
+the Boulevard Michelet in Marseilles, which was first projected in 1946 and finally completed
+in 1952, has various other points of interest, however. The Unité realizes on a
+large scale Le Corbusier’s ideas for the mass-dwelling, providing a single tall slab large
+enough to house a complete community and including, half-way up, a
+storey intended to be entirely occupied by shops, as well as other
+communal facilities on the roof (Plate #166:pl166). An ingenious section
+allows two-storey living-rooms for all the flats and also permits the
+use of a skip-stop lift system (Figure <a href='#i386'>51</a>). The framework in front of
+the walls provides sun protection for the tall living-room windows and
+also shallow balconies for each flat both front and back.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like the Swiss Hostel, the Unité is carried on central supports arranged in a double
+row. These are much more massively sculptural than the earlier ones in Paris, and almost
+anthropomorphically expressive of weight-bearing. All the poured concrete surfaces are
+left rough as they came from the forms, and the prefabricated members of the outer sun-break
+system have an exposed pebble aggregate. Everything is bold and masculine, even
+coarse, indicating a complete turnabout in Le Corbusier’s understanding of the essential
+‘nature’—itself a rather Wrightian concept—of concrete. On the roof an abstract landscape
+of sculptural forms plays counterpoint to the superb backdrop of mountains. One
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>cannot help remembering the roof of Gaudí’s Casa Milá in Barcelona (Plate <a href='#pl137a'>137<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); there
+are even some glazed tiles set in the concrete to provide notes of ‘permanent polychrome’.
+Yet the window in the entrance-hall at the base of the slab is quite Neoplasticist
+in the pattern of its subdivisions and the use of coloured glass; while painted
+colour of the boldest sort, by no means restricted to the primaries, is used on the sides of
+the sun-breaks, though not on any of the outer surfaces. Thus has Le Corbusier’s later
+architecture been enriched by a sort of eclecticism quite remote from his Purist aesthetic
+of the twenties.</p>
+
+<div id='i386'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i386.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 51. Le Corbusier: Marseilles, Unité d’Habitation, 1946-52, section of three storeys</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>At Chandigarh in India, where Le Corbusier had the general responsibility for planning
+the entire new capital of the State of Punjab and of building the principal public
+monuments, only one or two were by the mid fifties finished; the rest of the city was
+the work of other architects, principally Pierre Jeanneret and the English firm of
+Maxwell Fry and his wife Jane Drew. The High Courts of Justice,<a id="r502"></a><a href='#f502' class='c025'><sup>[502]</sup></a> built by Le Corbusier
+in 1952-6, are even more sculptural than the Unité at Marseilles. A continuous
+umbrella-like shell-vault of concrete rises high above the roofs of the court-rooms to
+allow the free passage of air. Supporting this are great rounded piers that merge into
+the concave surfaces over them, almost like the structural elements of the Casa Milá,
+but here of monumental scale. On the west side deep box-crates, with brilliant painted
+colours on their soffits like those on the sun-breaks of the Unité, keep the sun off the
+glazed walls of the court-rooms and provide that three-dimensional play first exploited
+on the Ministry in Rio.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The long slab of the Secretariat at Chandigarh, also of 1952-6, with its very varied
+pattern of sun-breaks, is less novel than the High Courts; but other work of the mid
+fifties at Ahmedabad should not be ignored (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). However, Le Corbusier’s
+most extraordinary late building is in France, not India, and therefore considerably more
+accessible. Architects and laymen alike have been consistently impressed by the intense
+emotionalism of his church of Notre-Dame-du-Haut at Ronchamp, Hte-Saône,<a id="r503"></a><a href='#f503' class='c025'><sup>[503]</sup></a>
+built in 1950-5. Whether this church will ever have as much influence as the Unité has
+already had remains debatable because of its very special character. But it certainly
+made even more evident than the High Courts the fact that Le Corbusier in the fifties
+was moving in almost the opposite direction from that in which he led in the twenties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_387'>387</span>In an exaggerated phrase Le Corbusier described his early houses as <i>machines à
+habiter</i>; but Notre-Dame-du-Haut is more like an enormous piece of sculpture than a
+‘machine for praying-in’ (Plate <a href='#pl167'>167</a>). He who once drove architecture towards the
+mechanistic, the precise, and the volumetric, now provides the exemplar of a new
+mode so plastic as almost to be naturalistic in the way of Gaudí’s blocks of flats of fifty
+years earlier. The walls and roof are rough, indeed almost brutal, in finish, and so
+massive and solid that the interior of the church at certain times of the day seems positively
+ill-lit by the tiny deep-sunk windows that irregularly penetrate the side walls. In
+place of an aesthetic expression emulating the impersonal results of engineers’ calculations,
+there is here a freehand quality comparable to the spontaneity of the sculptor.
+Moreover, where the overtones of his characteristic buildings of the twenties were
+wholly of the present, this arouses deep prehistoric atavisms—and quite intentionally.
+Whether the High Courts at Chandigarh and the church at Ronchamp evidence a deep
+split in modern architecture or represent rather a major turning point is still far from
+clear. Only a few have yet succeeded in following with any distinction the line of
+development they appear to open (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a> and <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The later work of the German leaders arouses no such difficult critical problems as
+does Le Corbusier’s; yet it has also ranged sometimes in directions not altogether to be
+expected from their best-known work of the twenties. Their careers, moreover, suffered
+a harsher break because of the political tribulations of their homeland than Le Corbusier
+suffered from the economic tribulations of France. In 1930 Mies became Director of
+the Bauhaus, remaining until it was closed by Hitler in 1933. Although he won a competition
+for the Reichsbank in Berlin as late as that year, he was allowed to do no work
+under the Nazis, and so he settled in the United States in 1938 after a preliminary visit the
+previous year.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>As has been noted, Mendelsohn and Gropius, on leaving Germany in 1933, settled
+first in England, and both did significant work there—if not especially significant for
+their own careers, certainly so for the early stage of modern architecture in England.
+With his English partner Maxwell Fry, Gropius was responsible in 1935-7 for the Impington
+Village College in Cambridgeshire; this set a new pace for school design in
+England in the post-war years, perhaps the best in the world. Mendelsohn, with
+Chermayeff, built in 1934-5 the De La Warr Pavilion at Bexhill on the Sussex coast. In
+the main this is a rather conventional example of the new architecture; but it has a semicircular
+glazed stair-tower that recalls the more lyrical quality of his best earlier work
+such as the Schocken department stores.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From England Mendelsohn moved on to Israel, where a large Government Hospital
+by him at Haifa and the Medical Centre of the Hadassah University in Jerusalem on
+Mount Scopus, both of 1936-8, show a most skilful adaptation of the international
+European canons to a hotter climate and a different cultural tradition, somewhat as is the
+case with the Ministry at Rio. Only with the onset of the war in 1941 did Mendelsohn
+settle in America. There his Maimonides Hospital in San Francisco of 1946-50 and
+synagogues and Jewish community centres in Cleveland (1946-52), St Louis (1946-50),
+Grand Rapids (1948-52), and St Paul (1950-4) continued to illustrate his very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_388'>388</span>personal command of the commonly accepted elements of the new architecture, with
+the inclusion here and there of anomalous features that seem to belong to a much
+earlier period of his career.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius proceeded directly from England to America in 1937, having been called by
+Dean Joseph Hudnut of the Graduate School of Design to be Professor of Architecture
+at Harvard University. He became Chairman of the Architecture Department the following
+year, which position he retained until 1953. As has already been said, his major
+contribution to architecture in America has been as an educator. However, he built, in
+partnership with Breuer, whom he had brought to Harvard, several houses, including
+his own at Lincoln, Mass., and also a housing development at New Kensington, Penna.,
+in the years 1938-41. These are, on the whole, no more successful than much of his
+work of the late twenties in Germany, despite an intelligent effort to adapt a European
+mode to American building methods, particularly as regards the use of wood, both
+structurally and for sheathing. This turning away, on Gropius’s part, from ferro-concrete
+and rendered surfaces is parallel to Le Corbusier’s somewhat earlier reversion
+to the use of local and traditional materials. The houses that Breuer designed after he
+parted from Gropius have considerably more intrinsic interest; as is perhaps natural in
+the work of a younger man, they show a more integral adjustment to the characteristic
+living habits and building methods of the New World. Two large-scale commissions,
+for the Unesco Building<a id="r504"></a><a href='#f504' class='c025'><sup>[504]</sup></a> in Paris (now nearly finished) and for the Bijenkorf Store in
+Rotterdam (1955-7), not to speak of the U.S. Embassy at The Hague, have brought him
+back to the European scene, but as an American rather than a Hungarian or German
+architect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Gropius’s principal American work was all done after the war. It included by the mid
+fifties two schools at Attleborough, Mass., one of 1948 and one of 1954, and the Graduate
+Centre of Harvard University in Cambridge, Mass., of 1949-50. These were all three
+designed—as also the already-mentioned Athens Embassy, which is not yet completed—in
+association with the firm known as TAC (The Architects’ Collaborative), consisting
+of a group of younger architects, all but one educated at Yale University, formed in
+1946. In the double quadrangle of buildings at Harvard, forming in itself almost a
+complete small college, the architecture of the twenties lived on with little change.
+Light-coloured brick replaced stucco for the walls, however, and there is a certain rather
+inhibited use of curves in plan and of angular relationships in detail reflecting ideas that
+had entered the new architecture only in the thirties. The Attleborough schools are less
+pretentious and altogether more successful, improving upon Gropius and Fry’s Impington
+College of the thirties in England in various ways. After his retirement as professor,
+Gropius and TAC became increasingly active, and he continued to present his well-known
+architectural doctrines in lectures, articles, and books.<a id="r505"></a><a href='#f505' class='c025'><sup>[505]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Coming to the United States a year later than Gropius, Mies also found his greatest
+opportunity there, and almost at once. In 1939 he was commissioned to design the entire
+new group of buildings for the Illinois Institute of Technology, which was moving to
+the south side of Chicago. In this scheme, which is of urbanistic scale and extent, a
+classic, indeed an almost academic, order prevails throughout (Figure <a href='#i389'>52</a>). The buildings
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_389'>389</span>that he was able to execute, two during the war in 1942-4, many more after 1945, have
+a comparably classic serenity. But they also express with relentless logic the character of
+their predominantly steel-skeleton construction. In them Mies almost revived architectural
+detail by the precision and the elaboration of his handling of the elements of
+metal structure. As at Gropius’s Graduate Centre, light-coloured brick replaces stucco
+for the solid wall panels. The severe patterns of the black-painted metalwork are
+organized with something of the purity of Mondrian’s canvases of the twenties yet with
+a dominating symmetry. This is true also of the interior planning of the individual
+buildings. However, the latest, Crown Hall, housing the architectural school, completed
+in 1956, is unsubdivided on the principal floor, and thus represents the most extreme
+statement of his later ideals, both structurally and in its planning.</p>
+
+<div id='i389'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i389.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 52. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe:<br />Chicago, Illinois Institute of Technology, 1939-41, general plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Mies also built houses and several tall blocks of flats in and near Chicago and, with Philip
+Johnson (b. 1906), a New York skyscraper at 375 Park Avenue for the Seagram Company
+in 1956-8 (Plate <a href='#pl192'>192</a>). His completely glazed Farnsworth house near Plano, Ill., designed
+in 1946 and built in 1950,<a id="r506"></a><a href='#f506' class='c025'><sup>[506]</sup></a> is a cage of white-painted welded steel raised above
+the river valley in which it is set and walled partly with great sheets of plate glass, partly
+with metal screening. The floor is a continuous plane of travertine from which broad
+travertine steps descend to an open travertine terrace. Planned about a central core in
+which are placed the fireplace, the bathrooms, and the heater, the interior space is completely
+unified, the different functional areas being separated only by cupboards that do
+not rise to the ceiling (Figure <a href='#i390'>53</a>). Even more than Crown Hall, this house represents
+the purest and most extreme statement of aesthetic purpose in one particular direction
+that the new architecture has yet produced—a direction which is, of course, in total
+opposition to the increasingly complex plastic effects sought in these same years by Le
+Corbusier. It is, nevertheless, quite as remote from the stucco boxes characteristic of
+the twenties and even more remote from Mies’s own brick houses of that period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>A similarly ascetic luxury is also evident in Mies’s blocks of flats at 845-860 Lake
+Shore Drive in Chicago of 1949-51 (Plate <a href='#pl170'>170</a>). There he seemed to have arrived, not
+imitatively but by force of parallel logic, at something very close to the skyscrapers that
+Sullivan designed in the nineties (Plate <a href='#pl119'>119</a>). Mies’s structural piers, carried down to the
+ground as free-standing elements just as they are below the Farnsworth house, give
+the dominant bay rhythm, their structural steelwork being sheathed here first in protective
+concrete and then in black-painted metal. Between the piers continuous
+<span class="sans">I</span>-shaped
+beams along the mullion lines stiffen the
+wall screens which are otherwise entirely of glass held
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_390'>390</span>in bright aluminium frames; they also provide a subsidiary rhythm, quite as Sullivan’s
+mullions sometimes did in the eighties and nineties.</p>
+
+<div id='i390'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i390.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 53. Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Plano, Ill., Dr Edith Farnsworth House, 1950, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Identical in shape, rectangular slabs both, the two blocks were set close together and at
+right angles to one another. This placing gave a minimum of overlap as regards the lake
+view and a minimum of overlook as regards the privacy of the apartments. The relationship
+also creates from these very simple shapes a notable variety of effects in perspective.
+The visual interest is enhanced especially by the fact that the projecting
+<span class="sans">I</span>-beams,
+when seen at a sharp angle, give the illusion that one wall of each block is solid; the other wall,
+being seen head on or nearly so, appears completely open between the structural piers
+and the mullions. Four more nearly identical apartment blocks<a id="r507"></a><a href='#f507' class='c025'><sup>[507]</sup></a> have risen in Chicago
+from Mies’s designs since, the Esplanade Apartments beside the first two towers, and
+two farther to the north, not to speak of those in Detroit and Newark.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>After his arrival in America Mies was not merely for fifteen years the architect of the
+Illinois Institute of Technology’s buildings, he soon became head of its Department of
+Architecture also, a post he retained until he retired in 1955. Less articulate than Gropius
+and occupying a less important academic post, Mies’s influence specifically as an educator
+has been considerably less. On the other hand, the general influence of his work in
+America in the late forties and fifties has been far greater. The ‘Miesian’ became almost
+a sub-school of the new architecture not only in the United States but in several other
+countries: to Mies not only younger men but also many established practitioners owed
+the specific direction of much of their post-war work (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Just before the Second World War broke out Oud, in 1938, recovered his health
+sufficiently to undertake a large commission, the Shell Building in The Hague, completed
+in the course of the next four years. In Holland there had been in the thirties
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_391'>391</span>a strong reaction against the new architecture led by M. J. Granpré-Molière (b. 1883)
+and the graduates of his school at Delft. Granpré-Molière urged a return, if not to the
+outright ‘traditional’, at least to a semi-traditionalism that was not without some
+similarity to what Hitler was sponsoring in Germany. In response to this challenge Oud
+set out to show how the new architecture, still considered by many in Holland to be too
+stark and mechanistic, could be humanized. To return from stucco to brick, in this
+case a thin glazed white brick such as Dudok was using at this same time with great
+success on his quite conventionally ‘International Style’ Erasmus Huis office building in
+the Coolsingel in Rotterdam,<a id="r508"></a><a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a> was merely to emulate the rejection of stucco in this
+decade by the French and German leaders in favour of more permanent, if also more
+traditional, walling materials, such as marble, rubble, brick, and even wood. But Oud’s
+attempt to revive ornament and the elaborate symmetry and near-academic complications
+of his over-all design of the Shell Building had little appeal outside Holland. In
+the small Esveha office building of 1952 near the railway station in Rotterdam and the
+much larger Vrijzinnige Christelijk Lyceum at 131 Goudsbloemlaan in The Hague of
+1953-6 Oud returned to something much closer to the norms of the new architecture
+elsewhere. But the day of his great international influence has long been over despite
+the belated prestige which is still his in Holland.<a id="r509"></a><a href='#f509' class='c025'><sup>[509]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Like several of the preceding chapters dealing with the architects of the first modern
+generation, this has brought some aspects of our story down nearly to the present. In so
+doing, the specifically modern architecture of the twentieth century has been largely
+accounted for; the picture will be rounded out later by offering a synoptic view of the
+international scene at the mid century (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a> and <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>). But first it is
+necessary to discuss the architecture that was <i>not</i> modern which was produced in the first
+four decades of this century. Historicism,<a id="r510"></a><a href='#f510' class='c025'><sup>[510]</sup></a> that is reminiscence of past styles, endemic
+throughout the nineteenth century, lived on. It is considered polite to call such architecture
+‘traditional’, over-favourably weighted rather than accurate though the term
+may be. Clearly a traditional architecture that produced a ‘Gothic’ skyscraper like Cass
+Gilbert’s Woolworth Building (Plate <a href='#pl178'>178</a>) or vast ‘Classical’ railway stations like the
+two in New York (Plate <a href='#pl177b'>177<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) was not unduly restricted by revivalistic canons. Clearly
+also this sort of architecture cannot be ignored historically, since it produced some of
+the largest, most prominent, and most carefully studied buildings and groups of buildings
+of the first third of this century. Moreover, in many countries traditionalism gave
+way to modern design only after the Second World War; while the authoritarian
+regimes of Europe in varying degree returned to its sanctions in the thirties, just as it was
+generally losing ground elsewhere in the western world.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There were few if any great leaders among twentieth-century traditional architects;
+certainly hardly more than one or two approached the calibre or the individual significance
+of the men whose work Part Three of this book has largely dealt with up to this
+point. But a conspectus can be provided, with typical examples of the best work in
+several countries, and some indication offered of the character of the production in other
+countries where the individual architects were less colourful, the monuments less
+notable, and the general level of quality less high.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_392'>392</span>
+  <h2 id='ch24' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 24</span><br />ARCHITECTURE CALLED TRADITIONAL<br />IN THE TWENTIETH CENTURY</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>Through</span> at least the first three decades of the twentieth century most architects of the
+western world would have scorned the appellation ‘modern’ or, if they accepted it,
+would have defined the term very differently from the way it has been understood in
+the immediately preceding chapters. For twentieth-century architecture that continued
+the historicism<a id="r511"></a><a href='#f511' class='c025'><sup>[511]</sup></a> of the nineteenth century the usual name in English is ‘traditional’.
+This term reflects a fond presumption that such architecture derives its sanctions from
+the traditions of the further past, although in fact its only real tradition is that of the preceding
+hundred years. Whatever one calls it, this traditional architecture includes the
+majority of buildings designed before 1930 in most countries of the western world and a
+considerable, if very rapidly decreasing, proportion of those erected since.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Statements of this sort are not very relevant when they concern the arts. In the case of
+every revolutionary change in architecture the same situation has obtained while the
+old slowly gave way to the new. Since the modern revolution may well be of the scale
+of the Renaissance, the student of architectural history should recall that from the early
+crystallization of the new Italian mode—and at first it was no more than a minor
+regional mode—in Florence around 1420 to the general acceptance of a new international
+style throughout Europe some two hundred years passed. The Baroque, in
+succeeding the Renaissance, came to international dominion only by gradual stages and
+eventually died out, not all at once around 1750, but gradually over the next half
+century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite prolific production and the quite remarkable things that were occasionally
+achieved when historicism came to uneasy terms with new technical means—as had
+already happened not infrequently in the nineteenth century—the traditional architecture
+of the twentieth century is primarily an instance of survival; and cultural survivals
+are among the most difficult problems with which history has to deal. Their sluggish
+life, sunk in inertia and conservatism, is very different from the vitality of new
+developments. Yet survivals are tough and resilient, tending always to maintain themselves
+by their very uneventfulness. Static, not to say smug, assurance is their greatest
+strength; their greatest danger is that boredom resulting from excessive familiarity
+which they eventually induce.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Survivals do not generally rouse the interest of posterity. The Gothic of fifteenth-century
+Italy or that of seventeenth-century England has not received from historians
+the attention of the rising forces in the architecture of those periods. Somewhat unfairly,
+late and anachronistic achievements, if admired at all, are likely to be credited to
+the previous age. In America, for example, Grecian plantation houses built as late as the
+1850s are frequently called ‘Southern Colonial’. We are too well aware today, however,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_393'>393</span>that the work of the traditional architects of the last fifty or sixty
+years is of this century, and not of the previous one, to permit that
+kind of confusion. The historian <i>must</i> attempt to give some sort
+of account of things like the Stockholm City Hall
+(Plate <a href='#pl174a'>174<span class='fss'>A</span></a> and <a href='#pl174b'><span class='fss'>B</span></a>) and the Woolworth Building
+(Plate <a href='#pl178'>178</a>). But the story is not an easy one to tell because
+it seemed—still at least in the mid twentieth century—to lack plot.
+The rise of modern architecture, on the other hand, offers material
+for a dramatic narrative, for it follows the pattern of the
+‘success-story’, just as does that of the Gothic in twelfth-century
+France or the beginnings of the Renaissance in fifteenth-century
+Italy.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In some areas of the world a meaningful succession of stages can be discerned in the
+late period of historicism. Because of the differential lags in various parts of the western
+world, however, it is difficult to find a scheme of organization that is at all generally
+applicable. All the same, those lags usually mean that certain countries were going
+through phases of architectural development in the early twentieth century that more
+advanced areas had left behind before 1900. Since those phases have been discussed in
+Part Two, it is unnecessary to detail here the peripheral and anachronistic ‘repeats’ of
+familiar late nineteenth-century episodes in the present century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Without attempting to round out the picture with the citation of multiple examples,
+one may at this point suggest some of the aspects, parallel and successive, of twentieth-century
+historicism. There was, for example, a characteristic continuation of that reaction
+against the boldness and coarseness of the architecture of the third quarter of the
+nineteenth century which is recognizable in most countries, and particularly perhaps
+in America and England from the eighties; hence the general critical emphasis of the
+period on ‘restraint’ and on the ‘tasteful’. Academically designed buildings of the 1920s
+were often still intended to realize aspirations that had been novel some forty years
+earlier; rarely, however, did they do so with a vitality comparable to that of later nineteenth-century
+work. So also Gothic of the early twentieth century produced by such
+American architects as Ralph Adams Cram or James Gamble Rogers hardly differs in
+its standards from what the English Bodley initiated around 1870.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>We have already seen in much of the work of Perret and Behrens a special kind of
+continuation of the Classical tradition in the twentieth century. This shades down
+through various degrees and kinds of simplification as represented in the personal modes
+of such architects as Asplund in Sweden or Marcello Piacentini in Italy to the maintenance
+of a Classical revivalism as absolute as that of 1800 in white marble temples like
+Henry Bacon’s Lincoln Memorial in Washington (Plate <a href='#pl180'>180</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The medievalizing currents of the nineteenth century link up with many aspects of
+the advanced architecture of the early twentieth century. This aftermath, often vital and
+creative in the fields of theory and of craftsmanship with architects as different as the
+English Voysey and the Spanish Gaudí, likewise shades down through various levels
+of decreasing stylization to a literal revivalism that is still in the Victorian tradition, but
+more in line with that tradition’s early or Puginian phase or its latest Bodleian phase
+than with the Butterfieldian phase of the 1850s and 1860s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Both on the Classical and on the Gothic side of the fence, however, there have been
+a few twentieth-century traditional architects whose personal stylization of borrowed
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_394'>394</span>forms was almost as extreme as that of the High Victorians. In their work, intense individualism
+and limited respect for the canons of ‘taste’ and ‘restraint’ offer real points
+of contact with the brashness of such modern architects of the first generation as
+Wright and de Klerk. This is in contrast to the other line of traditionalist integrity in
+the handling of materials that was solidly based on Gothic Revival standards of revived
+hand-craftsmanship, one of the truly positive values contributed to the next generation
+by such architects as Richardson in America and Webb in England. The two lines could
+also in some milieus combine to produce, particularly in Scandinavia, some of the most
+impressive works of the early twentieth century. Such an outline, blurred and overlapping
+in its rubrics, can do little more than suggest some of the principal later channels of
+the architectural currents which were carried over from the nineteenth century into the
+early decades of the twentieth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There is still hardly a country in the world where buildings of traditional design
+are not being erected; but whatever vitality twentieth-century traditional architecture
+retained as late as the second and even the third decade of the century had departed by
+the fourth. Post-mortems on traditional architecture have been many—and often premature.
+The causes of death are still disputable, but the fact of dissolution is by now
+generally accepted. Yet the last years of traditional architecture were not completely
+senile. However much the youthful vitality of the newer architecture attracts sympathy
+and attention, as late as 1930 its impact on building production was in most countries a
+very limited one. It is fortunate, therefore, that not all the traditional architecture of
+the years 1900-30 need be dismissed with scorn, even if the standards by which it must
+be judged remain those of the nineteenth rather than of the twentieth century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The nineteenth century ended, as we have seen earlier, with a surge of innovation (see
+Chapters 14, 15, and 16). Looking forward from the late nineties, a prophet might
+well have assumed that a new architecture would surely arise just beyond the turn of the
+century; yet within a few years a general reaction set in which took somewhat different
+forms in various parts of the western world. As has already been noted, there were
+almost everywhere strong links with the earlier Academic Reaction of the eighties against
+the bold and brash ‘high styles’ of the mid century; indeed, it may be said that the traditional
+architecture of the new century was in general both a continuance and a resurgence
+of that reaction. In most European countries, although not in England and
+America, the academic architecture of the late nineteenth century had represented little
+more than a resurgence or a continuance of certain aspects of decadent Romantic
+Classicism. Seeking a loftier pedigree, however, conservative architects often claimed
+that they were returning to traditions that had existed down to less than a century before
+their own day, quite as various reformers from Pugin to Voysey claimed they were
+renewing a link with one or another earlier period.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Relatively valid as this might still have been for certain aspects of the Queen Anne
+in England and the Colonial Revival in America, or for the parallel return to eighteenth-century
+modes in various Continental countries towards the end of the century, this
+theory had already run into serious difficulties long before 1900. A church might hope
+to be plausibly Gothic, but a railway station could only be Victorian Gothic; a skyscraper
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_395'>395</span>could not even be as Gothic as that. Moreover, the tide of eclecticism that
+had been rising since the mid eighteenth century was not turned back; for both the
+reaction of the 1880s and the later reaction of the early 1900s represented chiefly a
+rejection of earlier nineteenth-century innovations, especially of novel sorts of detail,
+rather than positive programmes of exclusive revival.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is possible, at least for individual countries, to make statements concerning what
+occurred in the field of traditional design between the 1890s and the 1930s that are not
+wholly without significance. Of Holland it may be said, negatively, that no reaction of
+consequence towards the traditional occurred before the mid thirties. In Germany the
+boundary line between what was traditional and what was modern was always fairly
+vague; yet evidence of a return to stylistic reminiscence after the earliest years of the
+century is to be found even in the work of leaders of the first generation of modern
+architects such as Olbrich and Behrens (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>). Farther to the North in Denmark
+and Sweden, the Copenhagen Town Hall of 1892-1902 (Plate <a href='#pl173a'>173<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) by Martin
+Nyrop (1849-1923) and the contemporary post offices and fire stations in Stockholm and
+Malmö by Ferdinand Boberg (1860-1940) resemble Berlage’s Exchange in Amsterdam
+in their haunting parallelism to the Richardsonian of the eighties in America and even,
+to some extent, to the Shavian of the seventies in England. It is true that Absalons Gaard,
+built in 1901-2 by Vilhelm Fischer (1868-1914) in the square in front of Nyrop’s Town
+Hall, and even more notably the nearby Palace Hotel of 1907-10 by Anton Rosen
+(1859-1928), developed the freer implications of Nyrop’s manner with an almost Dutch
+verve. But more characteristically there followed in Scandinavia from about 1900, as
+elsewhere rather earlier, a programme of tasteful emulation of local versions of the
+Baroque and then, from shortly after 1910 in Denmark and a decade later in Sweden, an
+even more programmatic revival of Romantic Classicism.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the Scandinavian development from 1890 to 1930 there is therefore a sort of ‘plot’
+or recognizable sequence of phases despite their overlappings. What has been called
+‘National Romanticism’, rooted in the cultural climate of the eighties, had a briefer span
+in Denmark than in Sweden. Nyrop’s Town Hall, begun in 1892, although
+in fact hardly more traditional than Berlage’s Amsterdam Exchange,
+introduced the mode, and the Stockholm Town Hall (Plate <a href='#pl174a'>174<span class='fss'>A</span></a>
+and <a href='#pl174b'><span class='fss'>B</span></a>) by Ragnar Östberg
+(1866-1945), completed thirty years later, brought it to a close. But
+its dominion in Denmark was never exclusive. Although the Custom House
+of 1897 at Aarhus by Hack Kampmann (1856-1920) with its picturesque
+high roofs and corner towers belongs to the mode, his Aarhus Theatre
+of 1898-1900 and his City Library there of 1898-1902 do not.
+Externally, the theatre is in the main of Early Renaissance design,
+although with considerable eclecticism in the detail; on the other
+hand, the library is even less traditional than Nyrop’s Town Hall.
+Both, moreover, have extremely rich plaster decoration inside that may
+not improperly be called Art Nouveau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Wahlman’s Engelbrekt Church of 1904-14 in Stockholm, mentioned
+earlier as an exception to the general dominance of tradition in
+Scandinavia in these decades, and the Grundvig Church in Copenhagen
+(Plate <a href='#pl175b'>175<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) by P. W. Jensen Klint (1853-1930),
+originally designed in 1913 and completed finally in 1926, are both
+closely related to the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_396'>396</span>earlier National Romanticism of the eighties and nineties. By the time the latter was
+designed, however, this phase had for some years been superseded by a sort of Neo-Baroque
+still also very nationalistic in its choice of precedents and very romantic in their
+handling. Sometimes, however, this mode approached eighteenth-century revivalism
+of the sort that flourished in England and America. For example, the Marselisberg
+Slot, built by Kampmann for the Danish Crown Prince at Aarhus in 1899-1902, is the
+precise Danish equivalent of the best Neo-Georgian houses of the period in England
+and America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Monuments such as the Masthugg Church (Plate <a href='#pl175a'>175<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) of 1910-14
+in Göteborg by Sigfrid Ericson (b. 1874) or the Högalid Church of
+1916-23 in Stockholm by Ivar Tengbom (b. 1878) are hardly recognizable
+as Neo-Baroque to non-Swedish eyes, for they are composed with a sense
+of visual drama quite equal to Wahlman’s and very stylized in all
+their detailing. Ericson’s, in particular, has much in common with the
+American Shingle Style, although that was rarely used for churches and
+never for big ones of stone or brick construction.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In much secular Swedish work in the Neo-Baroque mode, such as the very typical
+ASEA Building of 1916-19 in Västeros by Erik Hahr (1869-1944), bold asymmetrical
+massing and onion-domed towers reflect the romanticism of the churches and also recall
+early stages of the revived Queen Anne in England in the seventies. Danish taste in the
+second decade of the century was much more severe than Swedish, as in fact it had
+always been, and the characteristic low-cost housing blocks in Copenhagen of this
+period, such as those of 1914 in the Amagertorv by Hansen &amp; Hygom, are, so to say,
+only Neo-Baroque round the edges.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>For the 1920s, however, the most significant phase was the third, that is the return to
+Romantic Classicism. This was initiated in Denmark by Carl Petersen (1874-1923) in his
+Faaborg Museum designed in 1912, and reached its climax immediately after the First
+World War. In Sweden the parallel phase began a bit later. By the time such men as
+Fisker in Denmark, Asplund in Sweden, and Aalto in Finland became ‘converts’ to the
+International Style in the late twenties, Scandinavian traditionalism had become almost
+as purged of stylistic detail as the architecture of Tony Garnier, or even that of Adolf
+Loos, had been for a generation.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>On the whole the Danes and the Swedes produced the most lively and distinguished
+traditional architecture of the early decades of the century. Medievalizing churches in
+Scandinavia, such as the just-mentioned Grundvig Church in Copenhagen, where
+Jensen Klint followed Baltic modes that seemed strange and even Expressionist to foreign
+eyes, or Tengbom’s Högalid Church in Stockholm, superbly sited and actually much
+more Baroque than Gothic in its detail, make the respectable Neo-Perpendicular and
+Neo-Georgian exercises of contemporary Anglo-Saxon architects look timid and unimaginative.
+In both cases it is the stylization of proportion—the tremendous verticality—that
+makes them striking and full of a sort of vitality, at once nervous and lusty, which
+is comparable to that of the best High Victorian Gothic churches.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The finest medievalizing work is undoubtedly Östberg’s Stockholm Town Hall of
+1909-23.<a id="r512"></a><a href='#f512' class='c025'><sup>[512]</sup></a> This is an exceedingly eclectic combination of elements adapted from various
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_397'>397</span>periods both of the Swedish and the general European past. Superbly
+set at the water’s edge, it is sumptuously decorated inside and out
+with products of craftsmanship that are of a very high order of
+competence (Plate <a href='#pl174a'>174<span class='fss'>A</span></a> and <a href='#pl174b'><span class='fss'>B</span></a>).
+Despite his eclecticism, Östberg succeeded in imposing on all his
+disparate elements a high degree of personal stylization at the same
+time that he exploited the situation with marvellous dramatic effect.
+There is also a witty allusiveness suggesting the art of the theatre
+and the exotic fantasies of the late eighteenth century. The Stockholm
+Town Hall provides a sort of pageant-setting for the ceremonial life
+of the city, recalling the splendours of town-hall architecture of
+many epochs of the past, even though it lacks the straightforwardness
+and the integrity of Nyrop’s earlier Town Hall in Copenhagen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The outside world had hardly had time to apprehend such new Scandinavian building
+in the years following the First World War before it became evident that architecture
+in these countries, hitherto on the whole in stylistic retard of developments elsewhere
+by almost a generation, had taken a surprisingly sharp turn. Petersen’s museum at
+Faaborg followed the local Romantic Classical models of C. F. Hansen far more
+literally than any of the contemporary admirers of Schinkel in Germany were doing.
+Brought to completion in 1916 during the First World War, it attracted very little
+foreign attention at the time it was built. But the Police Headquarters in Copenhagen
+by Kampmann, erected after the war in 1918-22, with its great colonnaded circular
+court, and the Øregaard School (Plate <a href='#pl176b'>176<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) at 32 Gersonsvej in the Gentofte Kommune
+north of Copenhagen by Edward Thomsen (b. 1884) and G. B. Hagen (1873-1941)
+that followed in 1922-4 were at once noticed abroad. Both indeed are notable
+for their grandeur and for their simplicity, the latter realizing old Romantic Classical
+ideals with extraordinary success, the former coming closer to the academic work of
+McKim, Mead &amp; White in America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Still simpler, and not without a similar sort of understated grandeur surprising in such
+work, were the Danish low-cost housing blocks erected in the early twenties in succession
+to those of Hansen &amp; Hygom. Those by Povl Baumann (b. 1878) in the Hans
+Tavsengade or the enormous Hornsbaekhus of 1923 by Kay Fisker (b. 1893), all in
+Copenhagen, are especially fine. The extreme precision, the elegant craftsmanship in
+brick, and the ascetic detailing of these blocks of flats, rivalling the contemporary ones
+by de Klerk and by Kramer in Amsterdam in quality but subscribing to a quite opposed
+aesthetic, are found also in many Danish private houses of the twenties built by Gotfred
+Tvede (1863-1947) and other architects both in the city and in the country.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although Carl Westmann (1866-1936) in the Röhss Museum of Handicraft at Göteborg
+and Erik Lallerstedt (1864-1955) in the University of Architecture and Engineering
+at Stockholm approached the simplicity and fine craftsmanship in brick of the Danes,
+Swedish work of this period was in general richer and more robust, still reflecting the
+very eclectic sources of inspiration of Östberg’s Town Hall. However, in 1923 Neo-Classicism
+of a more attenuated and whimsical order than Petersen’s made a striking
+appearance in the buildings for the Göteborg Jubilee Exhibition. Of these the Congress
+Hall by Arvid Bjerke (b. 1880), with its serried clerestories carried on arched principals,
+was the boldest and least reminiscent. These Göteborg pavilions were very influential
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_398'>398</span>abroad in the mid and late twenties; detailing of Swedish inspiration then seemed to
+offer to traditional designers elsewhere a sort of Nordic spice with which to enliven the
+dead-level of the local eighteenth-century revivals.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Tengbom, deserting the romantic eclecticism and the emotional drama of his earlier
+Högalid Church, used a highly stylized, almost exposition-like, Neo-Classic mode for
+his Stockholm Concert Hall of 1920-6. However, the climax in Sweden—if not, indeed,
+the climax as regards all Scandinavia—came with Asplund’s Central Library in Stockholm,
+begun in 1921 and much simplified and refined as construction proceeded through
+the mid twenties. Rejecting the frivolous decorative detail of his Skandia Cinema of
+1922-3, Asplund rivalled the Danes in reducing architecture to geometrical simplicity
+(Plate <a href='#pl176a'>176<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). Thus he might almost seem to have passed beyond C. F. Hansen and
+Schinkel, the Scandinavian idols of the day, to draw the inspiration for his plain cylinder
+rising out of a cube directly from Ledoux or Boullée (Plate <a href='#pl002a'>2<span class='fss'>A</span></a>); while at the base he
+ran a continuous band of windows derived from the newest architecture of these years in
+France, Germany, and Holland. This juxtaposition in the same edifice of Ledoux and
+Le Corbusier, so to put it, is rather awkward; but it is highly symptomatic of the very
+slight step that the Scandinavians had still to take in the late twenties when they gave
+up revived Romantic Classicism—already pared down to basic geometry in this library
+and in much Danish housing—to become outright converts to the International Style.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Although Sweden and Denmark produced no modern architect of the first generation
+of such individual distinction as the Finnish Saarinen, and must in any case be considered
+to have started out around 1900 from a position somewhat in retard of the
+French and the Germans, their early twentieth-century architecture largely avoided the
+stasis of traditionalism elsewhere, moving through overlapping but discrete phases to an
+early and sympathetic acceptance of the new international architecture of the twenties
+even before that decade was over. So clear a picture is hard to discern in most other
+countries.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the United States the pattern of development between the 1890s and the 1930s, in
+so far as one can make out any pattern at all, was quite different; nor was there in America,
+in the way of England in the twenties, any Swedish influence of consequence. Movements
+roughly equivalent to the Scandinavian National Romanticism of 1900, the
+Richardsonian Romanesque and the Shingle Style, had flourished in the eighties and
+come to an end by 1900. The Academic Reaction that early succeeded them swept on,
+however, for some forty years. Despite the ruling eclecticism of taste that permitted an
+archaeological sort of revived Gothic still to thrive as a mode for churches and educational
+institutions, the more widely favoured Classical, Renaissance, and Georgian
+stylisms had all been initiated by McKim, Mead &amp; White in the eighties and early
+nineties. The quality of their work began to decline<a id="r513"></a><a href='#f513' class='c025'><sup>[513]</sup></a> almost as soon as their professional
+primacy became assured; yet their best buildings of the first decade of the new century
+undoubtedly remain among the most competent, if unexciting, examples of traditional
+architecture then produced anywhere. Americans, not Frenchmen, were in these decades
+the worthiest products of the École des Beaux-Arts, and thus heirs of the strongest
+academic tradition in the world.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_399'>399</span>Whether McKim, Mead &amp; White’s models be Renaissance, as in the University Club
+in New York (Plate <a href='#pl179'>179</a>) completed in 1900, the series of Branch Public Libraries there
+that were built over the next dozen years, and the Tiffany Building finished in 1906; or
+Classical, as in the Knickerbocker Trust in New York and the Bank of Montreal in
+Montreal, both completed in 1904, the very similar Girard Trust in Philadelphia of
+1908, and the vast Pennsylvania Station in New York of 1906-10, this New York firm
+was clearly one of the truest successors to the nineteenth-century academic heritage that
+so many of the French were frittering away at the opening of the new century in a half-hearted
+flirtation with the Art Nouveau.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Gare d’Orsay in Paris of 1898-1900 (Plate <a href='#pl183a'>183<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) by V.-A.-F. Laloux (1856-1937)
+is no more to be compared with the Americans’ station than his Hôtel de Ville at
+Tours of 1904-5 with their clubs and banks—his best work, closer to the tradition of
+Duquesney and Hittorff, was an earlier station, that at Tours of 1895-8. Yet Laloux was
+often considered the most accomplished French traditional architect of the period.<a id="r514"></a><a href='#f514' class='c025'><sup>[514]</sup></a> Moreover,
+the McKim, Mead &amp; White repertory of stylistic modes was wide: much wider
+than that of the French, although Laloux did produce in Saint-Martin at Tours, completed
+in 1904, a domed basilica still in the line of the earlier French Romanesquoid
+churches, though not at all of the quality of Vaudremer’s Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge
+of the sixties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>McKim, Mead &amp; White exploited a vernacular Colonial Revival, as in the E. D.
+Morgan house of 1900 at Wheatley Hills, Long Island, as well as a more formal Neo-Georgian,
+at which several others, such as Delano &amp; Aldrich<a id="r515"></a><a href='#f515' class='c025'><sup>[515]</sup></a> and Charles A. Platt (1861-1933),
+were quite as competent as they. But they could also shade their Classicism towards
+the Byzantine, as in the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York completed
+in 1906, or adapt it to industrial uses, as in the I.R.T. Power Station in New York of
+1903. They could even extend it upward into skyscrapers, as in the New York Municipal
+Building completed in 1908, concentrating all their attention on the ground floor and
+the crowning feature while ignoring the many-storeyed shank between; or spread it
+thin over large apartment houses such as that they built in 1918 at 998 Fifth Avenue,
+one of the best examples of the apparently solid blocks that walled one side of that
+thoroughfare above 57th Street facing Central Park and soon turned Park Avenue from
+46th to 96th Street into a man-made canyon. The one thing they and their contemporaries
+seemed to be unable to do was to make their architecture live, even with the
+derivative vitality of the Scandinavians. Frozen ideals of stylistic ‘correctness’ stifled
+such expression of individual personality as gives real character to the work of a
+Tengbom or a Kampmann even when it comes closest to theirs.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In popular estimation certain buildings that made use of Gothic rather than Classical,
+Renaissance, or Georgian forms had a higher reputation. Cass Gilbert’s already-mentioned
+Woolworth Building finished in 1913 (Plate <a href='#pl178'>178</a>) initiated a considerable range
+of Gothic skyscrapers, including Howells &amp; Hood’s Chicago Tribune Tower of 1923-5,
+but it remains in the judgement of posterity the most notable example of this sort of
+applied medieval design. Despite the considerable acclaim it received when new, such
+an equally characteristic Romanesquoid example as the Shelton Hotel of 1929 by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_400'>400</span>Arthur Loomis Harmon (b. 1901) rivals Gilbert’s no more in interest than in height.
+The New York Telephone Company Building, completed in 1926 by Ralph Walker
+(b. 1889) at the beginning of his career with the firm of McKenzie, Voorhees &amp; Gmelin,
+is more original. Its fortress-like masses, somewhat frivolously relieved by ornamental
+touches borrowed from the Paris Exposition of 1925, and its isolated location at the
+Hudson River’s edge, ensure that its bold silhouette will long vie, for the visitor arriving
+from abroad, with the so much taller and richer silhouette of the Woolworth Building.
+Most of the other individual big buildings of the twenties in New York and other large
+American cities are no more than incidental elements in the man-made mountain ranges
+of their skylines.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Curiously enough the ‘correct’ Gothic churches of this period do not receive today
+as favourable a response as the large-scale medievalizing secular work that is necessarily
+so very unlike real work of the Middle Ages. Those of Ralph Adams Cram (1863-1942),
+then the most esteemed Gothic practitioner, are lifeless and even crude beside Bodley’s
+and Pearson’s in England from which they largely derive. His first church, All Saints’,
+Ashmont, outside Boston which was built in 1892 is by its early date the least anachronistic.
+Cram’s former partner Goodhue’s St. Vincent Ferrer in New York completed
+in 1916, a competent and well-scaled example of Late Gothic that is more Continental
+than English in character, is rather more successful than any of their joint work
+or that which Cram did later with his other partner Ferguson. Bertram Grosvenor
+Goodhue (1869-1924), responsible also, as has been noted, for the Spanish Colonial
+revival in California, moved on in the early twenties just before his death to an eclectic
+sort of semi-modernism best represented by his Nebraska State Capitol in Lincoln. This
+is vaguely Byzantinesque, yet towered instead of being domed in what had been the
+tradition for state capitals ever since Bulfinch’s in Boston. His contemporary Los Angeles
+Public Library is starker and more like a project by Tony Garnier.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>There were other architects to match McKim, Mead &amp; White directly at their own
+academic exercises: most notably John Russell Pope (1874-1937), with his Temple of
+Scottish Rite in Washington completed in 1916, a grandiose reconstruction of the
+Mausoleum at Halicarnassus; and Henry Bacon (1866-1924), with his Lincoln Memorial
+completed the following year (Plate <a href='#pl180'>180</a>). The latter is a peripteral Greek Doric temple
+of white marble with a high attic that might almost have been designed in Paris in the
+1780s—no mean compliment. Equally French in spirit, but with no such evident prototypes,
+is the Grand Central Station in New York, built in 1903-13 by Reed &amp; Stem and
+Warren &amp; Wetmore.<a id="r516"></a><a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a> More efficiently organized than the Pennsylvania Station, its
+concourse is one of the grandest spaces the early twentieth century ever enclosed
+(Plate <a href='#pl177b'>177<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Compared to most work of these decades by French architects, all trained like the
+American leaders at the École des Beaux-Arts, the greater ‘correctness’ of the detailing
+of these buildings is notable. The boast of ‘good taste’ was not altogether a hollow one,
+although it is at best a negative rather than a positive criterion for architecture.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>So extensive was American building production during the twenties that it is difficult
+to know how to epitomize it.<a id="r517"></a><a href='#f517' class='c025'><sup>[517]</sup></a> On the one hand, there are the later skyscrapers, essaying
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_401'>401</span>new stylistic garments as the older ones lost their piquancy. Even before the Romanesquoid
+of Harmon’s Shelton Hotel had come the massive simplicity of Walker’s
+Telephone Building. But for all the playing around with superficially novel decoration
+borrowed from the Paris Exposition of 1925 in the succeeding years, there was no
+basic renewal of form before next decade opened. Just after the crash of 1929
+terminated the boom, the second skyscraper age came to a belated close with the erection
+in the early thirties of Shreve, Lamb &amp; Harmon’s Empire State Building and the
+initiation of the Rockefeller Center project.<a id="r518"></a><a href='#f518' class='c025'><sup>[518]</sup></a> There a more urbanistic grouping, extending
+over a considerable area, replaced the earlier ideal of building single structures
+of ever greater height that had just reached its climax with the Empire State
+Building. This change in approach, recognized ever since as a turning point, was for a
+long time hardly at all followed up. However, the spaced skyscrapers of Pittsburgh’s
+rebuilt Golden Triangle and, since then, various projects of urban renewal for big and
+middle-sized cities from coast to coast are shifting the emphasis from individual structures
+to the wholesale reorganization of very large areas (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a> and <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the terms of this chapter neither the Empire State Building nor Rockefeller Center
+are examples of traditional architecture, even if it is hardly proper to consider them
+‘modern’ in the sense of the European architecture of their day. Although likewise no
+example of the new architecture as then understood in Europe like Howe &amp; Lescaze’s
+Philadelphia Savings Fund Society Building of 1932 (Plate <a href='#pl169'>169</a>), such a clean-cut skyscraper
+as Hood’s vertically striped Daily News Building in New York marked with
+more distinction than its outsize rivals the end of traditional design in this field.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Almost as remarkable as the skyscrapers of the twenties in size and elaboration were
+the groups of new buildings in which so many academic institutions, both new and old,
+variously housed themselves. The mode is Classical at the Massachusetts Institute of
+Technology, built by Welles Bosworth (b. 1869) in 1912-15 on the Charles River in
+Cambridge, Mass.; ‘Georgian-Colonial’ in the range of ‘Houses’ that Coolidge, Shepley,
+Bulfinch &amp; Abbott<a id="r519"></a><a href='#f519' class='c025'><sup>[519]</sup></a> built in the twenties for Harvard, also along the Charles River in
+Cambridge; it is Gothic at Cram &amp; Ferguson’s Graduate College at Princeton, N.J.
+(Plate <a href='#pl177a'>177<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) completed in 1913, in the Harkness Quadrangle, designed in 1917, and
+other later buildings for Yale at New Haven, Conn., by James Gamble Rogers (1867-1947),
+and at the Men’s Campus by Horace Trumbauer (1869-1938) at Duke University
+in Durham, North Carolina; it is even, by exception, Byzantinoid at Cram’s
+Rice Institute at Houston, Texas, opened in 1912. The usual modes for such work were
+what was known as ‘Collegiate’ Gothic, based rather loosely on work at Oxford and
+Cambridge that was quite as likely to be nineteenth-century as medieval in date, and
+Neo-Georgian in an Anglo-American version, usually too grand to be plausibly Colonial
+yet too casually composed to be properly Anglo-Palladian. Curiously enough, the Gothic
+Cram’s Neo-Georgian Sweet Briar College in Virginia of 1901-6 is more successful than
+much of his own medievalizing work or than comparable work by those who specialized
+in eighteenth-century design.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The technical competence of American architects in this period was very great, the
+sums of money available almost unlimited, and the avowed standards of design only
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_402'>402</span>the vague ones of ‘taste’ and ‘correctness’, by this time little more than a schoolmasterish
+respect for precedent in detail, though rarely in over-all composition.<a id="r520"></a><a href='#f520' class='c025'><sup>[520]</sup></a> Far less
+than in Scandinavia is it possible to define the particular ways in which the period expressed
+itself, for express itself America in these decades undoubtedly did. Yet, when
+Americans of this period worked abroad, what they produced is readily distinguishable
+from the work of local traditionalists. The American Academy on the Gianicolo
+in Rome, built by McKim, Mead &amp; White in 1913, has a certain chaste precision in
+its High Renaissance detailing no Italian could then have achieved even if he had
+wanted to. In London Helmle &amp; Corbett’s<a id="r521"></a><a href='#f521' class='c025'><sup>[521]</sup></a> Bush House, rising between the Strand
+and Aldwych, has a clarity of form and a sense of urbanistic responsibility that few
+comparable buildings of its period designed by leading British architects display; up
+to a point, the same is true of Carrère &amp; Hastings’s<a id="r522"></a><a href='#f522' class='c025'><sup>[522]</sup></a> Devonshire House in Piccadilly of
+1924-6. The Ritz Hotel of 1906 across the street by the Anglo-French firm of Mewès &amp;
+Davis,<a id="r523"></a><a href='#f523' class='c025'><sup>[523]</sup></a> both of them trained at the École des Beaux-Arts as was Thomas Hastings, is
+bolder in scale, less priggish, but it also lacks the suavity and finish of its neighbour.
+Bolder also, indeed too monumental for its size, is Barclays Bank of 1926 by W. Curtis
+Green (b. 1875), near by in Piccadilly across Arlington Street. Of more nearly comparable
+quality is Green’s earlier Westminster Bank of 1922-3 on the north side of
+Piccadilly.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Somewhere between the extreme professional competence of the traditional architects
+of America, a competence almost wholly anonymous in its results, and the intensely
+personal expression of the Scandinavians lies the pattern that the best traditional architecture,
+such as Green’s, followed in England in the early twentieth century. But before
+turning to that a good deal more should first be said concerning both the competence
+and the anonymity of American production, since that competence and even that anonymity
+came to be accepted throughout the western world as desirable<a id="r524"></a><a href='#f524' class='c025'><sup>[524]</sup></a> characteristics of
+modern architecture by a great many architects, at least in the mid century.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Partnerships were not unknown in the nineteenth century, although professional
+alliances between strong personalities rarely lasted for long. When the partner was not
+an equal the historian is often justified in writing, say, of G. G. Scott and forgetting
+Moffatt or, with rather less justification, only of Sullivan while ignoring Adler. But
+architectural firms that include three or more named partners, with still other members
+listed only on the letter-head; others such as D. H. Burnham <i>and Company</i> and Albert
+Kahn <i>Incorporated</i>, or ‘partnerships’, such as McKim, Mead &amp; White or Cram &amp; Ferguson,
+which continued to function under the same name for decades after the death of the
+original partners like so many firms of lawyers: these are more or less peculiar to the
+twentieth century and first became common in the United States. Today, moreover, an
+architect of European background like Mies van der Rohe does not undertake large-scale
+operations in America, such as the group of buildings for the Illinois Institute of
+Technology or <i>a fortiori</i> his tall blocks of flats in Chicago and the Seagram skyscraper in
+New York, without associating himself with such large local firms. Wright and Gropius
+solved the problem somewhat differently; but the Taliesin Fellowship and TAC provided
+them respectively with the relatively modest and idiosyncratic equivalents of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_403'>403</span>organization of the big Harrison &amp; Abramowitz firm in New York or of one of the
+Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill offices in Chicago, New York, San Francisco, and
+Portland, Oregon.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The development of the characteristic large-scale American architectural office seems
+to have begun in Chicago. Burnham, on the death of his designing partner Root in 1891,
+just after they had undertaken the primary responsibility for the general planning and
+building of the World’s Fair of 1893, had to set up an organization of which he was no
+more than the executive head. But the office of McKim, his closest associate in carrying
+out the Fair, was certainly already far advanced along a parallel road. There is a
+definite connexion here also with the rise of the skyscraper, for those very large commercial
+buildings already required a vast amount of uninspired draughting that could
+be efficiently undertaken only by a large force of assistants working in what came
+later to be derisively called ‘plan-factories’.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The same is even more true of industrial work. Here Albert Kahn took the lead
+around 1905 in developing a type of subdivision and flow of work in his office in Detroit
+comparable to the new methods of mass-production that his motor-car factories were
+specifically designed to facilitate. Such patterns are found at their extreme in the group<a id="r525"></a><a href='#f525' class='c025'><sup>[525]</sup></a>
+of firms that together produced Rockefeller Center, in the Harrison &amp; Abramowitz
+office which is in effect their heir, and in the largely post-war expansion of Skidmore,
+Owings &amp; Merrill. Abroad, more characteristically, such organizations have been built
+up in offices under a public authority such as those of the London and the Hertfordshire
+County Councils, the City Architects’ Offices in various German cities, or the Banco
+Obrero housing agency in Venezuela.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>‘Plan-factories’ are undoubtedly conducive to speed and to a certain sort of competence
+in the execution of large projects, but it must be evident that the architecture
+they produce will necessarily be anonymous. In defining the character of their competence,
+moreover, one must be careful not to imply too much. Only such team-work,
+perhaps, can organize the logistics of building production in such a way that extensive
+and ramified ventures are carried rapidly to completion, a desideratum of the first order
+in a boom period for skyscrapers that must be finished quickly in order to begin repaying
+their enormous cost. Efficiency is of a different sort of consequence where large-scale
+building schemes of a more public and social nature are being undertaken, but none
+the less extremely important. Le Corbusier’s Unité at Marseilles, produced without an
+elaborate office organization, took some six years to build; as a result it was no longer
+‘low-cost housing’ when it was finally completed.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet competence in the sections of a big office that deal with the plumbing, say, or the
+electrical system is no assurance that the quite different sort of competence required in
+the design department will be available. Moreover, a brilliant initial design may or may
+not survive intact the various modifications that other departments bring to it as the
+preparatory paper-work for the building moves through successive stages to ultimate
+execution. At best, even when a particular designer’s name is associated with a particular
+building, as is that of Gordon Bunshaft of Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill with Lever
+House (Plate <a href='#pl189'>189</a>), his responsibility is of a very different order from Wright’s for the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_404'>404</span>Price Tower-although not perhaps so different from Mies’s for the Seagram skyscraper.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The situation in England in the first third of the century was rather different from that
+in America despite a nineteenth-century inheritance which was in many aspects common
+to both countries. One architect, Sir Edwin Lutyens, had a personal capacity for
+invention along traditional lines superior to that of any American of his generation.
+This was not, however, of the order of individualistic intensity of an Östberg or a Jensen
+Klint, nor was he able, in the way of an Asplund or even a Hood, to accept around 1930
+the discipline of the newer architecture of the day. Lutyens built no skyscrapers, nor did
+he develop the sort of office organization that made them possible in America. This was,
+however, occurring to some extent by the twenties and thirties in other big English
+offices, such as those of Sir John Burnet &amp; Tait<a id="r526"></a><a href='#f526' class='c025'><sup>[526]</sup></a> and of Curtis Green.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>All the same, it fell to Lutyens’s lot to build some of the biggest business structures
+erected anywhere outside America in these years, and his career culminated in the design
+and construction of an imperial capital such as came the way of no American. His competence
+was of a more nineteenth-century order than that of the Americans, and there
+was certainly nothing anonymous about his work. He was, moreover, still an inspiriting
+figure in an England where architecture, under the difficult economic conditions since
+the last war, tended to become anonymous without becoming especially competent,
+except for public housing and for schools (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens’s beginnings were very remote from the world of business and governmental
+buildings with which his career wound up (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>). Very early houses, such as
+Ruckmans of 1894 at Oakwood Park or Sullingstead of 1896 at Hascombe, both in
+Surrey, followed directly in the line of Shaw’s Surrey manor-houses with their tile-hung
+walls, free and easy composition, and simple domesticity of tone. They are, indeed,
+superior to most of Shaw’s—the first of which, Glen Andred, was built almost
+thirty years earlier and the last about this time—because of Lutyens’s respect for Webb
+and the resultant superiority of his craftsmanship. In his finest early houses, such as
+Deanery Gardens at Sonning of 1901 (Plate <a href='#pl182b'>182<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), he rivalled Voysey. He was already
+inclined, however, like Webb in many of his later houses, to use considerable stylistic
+detail, usually Neo-Georgian, in his interiors, and here and there on exteriors as well.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perhaps the revolution—or counter-revolution—in his development represented by
+his Heathcote of 1906 at Ilkley in Yorkshire has been somewhat exaggerated. Yet the
+design of this, completely symmetrical and quite elaborately Palladian in detail, did
+represent as great a shift in approach, taken in one jump, as that from Shaw’s Glen
+Andred of the late sixties to his Chesters of the early nineties. It was, however, practically
+the same shift. Eclectic like almost all the traditional architects of his generation, Lutyens
+still occasionally remodelled medieval houses, but the main line of his development
+henceforth was certainly Neo-Georgian. Yet it was usually Neo-Georgian with an important
+difference from what had become by this time in England as in America a
+rather drearily codified mode. Nashdom at Taplow in Buckinghamshire, built in 1909,
+is a vast white-painted house, plain, regular, massive, and hardly at all archaeological.
+Yet this is so handsomely proportioned and so well built that one could well believe
+it to be the result of some generations-long process of accretion in the eighteenth
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_405'>405</span>century. Great Maytham in Kent of 1910 is Queen Anne, but not the Queen Anne of
+the 1870s. Here a great mansion of the early eighteenth century was re-created with
+such a plausibility of craftsmanship that after only half a century it was hard to believe
+it was not two hundred and fifty years old. A somewhat smaller house, the Salutation
+at Sandwich of 1912, is similar and perhaps even more remarkable as an example of what
+is almost ‘productive archaeology’ on the part of a man who was not, in fact, at all
+archaeologically minded. Such houses are the twentieth-century equivalents of Devey’s
+in the nineteenth century, but they often have a witty originality in the handling of
+traditional detail that has aptly been called ‘naughty’ and is peculiarly personal to
+Lutyens.<a id="r527"></a><a href='#f527' class='c025'><sup>[527]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>If the Georgian had to be revived in the way of the Greek and the Gothic, it could
+hardly have been done with more competence and more animation; certainly the
+Americans of Lutyens’s generation rarely excelled so notably in this particular field,
+although many of the once highly esteemed firms mentioned earlier positively specialized
+in it. Beside these houses of Lutyens, the Neo-Georgian of the Shepley firm’s
+Harvard Houses or Cram’s Sweet Briar College is merely routine. Yet in such work
+Lutyens was still only a country-house architect.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Before discussing Lutyens’s work at the Hampstead Garden Suburb, with which his
+association began in 1908, something should be said concerning the ‘Garden City’
+movement<a id="r528"></a><a href='#f528' class='c025'><sup>[528]</sup></a> in general. In 1892 Ebenezer Howard<a id="r529"></a><a href='#f529' class='c025'><sup>[529]</sup></a> (1850-1928) published <i>Tomorrow.
+A Peaceful Path to Reform</i>, better known by the title of the edition of 1902 as <i>Garden
+Cities of Tomorrow</i>. Howard’s opportunity to realize his aspirations for a new sort of
+town began with the acquisition of land at Letchworth in 1903, but the construction of
+the Letchworth Garden City on the plans of Sir Raymond Unwin (1863-1940) and his
+partner Richard Barry Parker actually post-dates their work at the Hampstead Garden
+Suburb. They had, however, already laid out a ‘model village’ for a chocolate manufacturer
+at New Earswick near York in 1904.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In 1907 Dame Henrietta Barnett set out to realize some aspects of the Garden City ideal
+on the outskirts of London. The next year land was acquired near Golders Green on the
+far side of Hampstead Heath and the suburb planned as a whole by Parker &amp; Unwin.<a id="r530"></a><a href='#f530' class='c025'><sup>[530]</sup></a>
+Lutyens was invited to plan and design the group of public buildings in the centre and
+their immediate setting (Figure <a href='#i406'>54</a>). This town centre was eventually largely completed,
+most of it from Lutyens’s design, and the two churches, with the contiguous squares,
+provide some of his finest work. His work here certainly set a pace of coherence and
+urbanity that was unfortunately not maintained in later Garden Cities such as Welwyn,
+begun in 1919, that followed the rather more diffuse plan of Letchworth.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Welwyn, however, is of importance in the history of town-planning because it was
+not merely a residential development but included from the first an industrial estate as
+well. Thus it was a more complete entity and the prototype of the English ‘New Towns’
+initiated after the Second World War. The Barnett project was originally, and has remained,
+an upper-middle-class suburb; yet it is unique for the orderliness and the distinction
+of the public buildings that Lutyens provided at the centre and the terrace-framed
+squares that flank them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_406'>406</span>St Jude’s, the Anglican church, begun in 1910 and not finally completed at the west
+end until 1933, is Lutyens’s principal ecclesiastical work, his Catholic cathedral in Liverpool
+having been barely begun before his death. Lacking the emotional drama of the
+Scandinavian churches of its period, St Jude’s has nevertheless a certain real boldness of
+silhouette, produced by rather eclectic means, and an elegance of craftsmanship in the
+brickwork that is in the finest tradition of the Gothic Revival. Yet, being by Lutyens,
+it is hardly at all medieval. The tall crossing tower may have slight suggestions of the
+Norman in its detailing and a cathedral-like scale, but in general the exterior is in a
+vaguely seventeenth-century vernacular descending from the later work of Shaw and
+Webb.</p>
+
+<div id='i406'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i406.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 54. Sir Edwin Lutyens: Hampstead Garden Suburb, London, North and South Squares, 1908</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>The interior, rather surprisingly, proves to be almost High Renaissance in character;
+there is even a barrel vault over the nave. On the other hand, the timberwork of
+the roofs of the aisles, which descend so low on either side, is of a structural peculiarity
+recalling Webb at his crankiest if not, indeed, Butterfield. Except for the highly
+exceptional London church of the Holy Redeemer, Clerkenwell, built by J. D. Sedding
+(1837-91) in 1887-8, so truly Palladian—rather than Anglo-Palladian—internally as
+almost to persuade one that it is Italian, no non-Gothic church of this quality had been
+built in England for two generations. Lutyens’s more modest Free Church is rather
+similar, both inside and out, but considerably less effective.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To surround two sides of both North Square and South Square beside the churches
+Lutyens revived the Early Georgian terrace, varying the composition ingeniously and
+handling the beautifully laid bricks in two colours, reddish and greyish, with a fascinating
+subtlety. Unfortunately such truly urban housing stood no chance with the clientèle
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_407'>407</span>drawn to this and other Garden Cities as against the appeal of free-standing or semi-detached
+houses. No general revival of the terrace occurred. But Parker &amp; Unwin
+and their emulators achieved in individual houses a standard of semi-traditional suavity
+that represents one of the principal English achievements of the period, and something
+frequently imitated abroad.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens’s call to lay out New Delhi as the capital of India followed in 1911, and the
+first plans were made before 1914. It was a commission better suited to his leaping
+imagination than the modest domesticity of an English Garden City. Construction of
+the buildings, notably the enormous Viceroy’s House, began only in 1920.<a id="r531"></a><a href='#f531' class='c025'><sup>[531]</sup></a> Not since
+L’Enfant laid out Washington had a fiat city of such amplitude and grandeur been conceived,
+much less even partly executed. The Viceroy’s House, finally finished in 1931, is
+official residence, centre of administration, and focus of the whole scheme—a <i>tour de
+force</i> for which, from the Queen Anne, the Neo-Georgian, and the Palladian, Lutyens
+lifted his sights to a Roman scale (Plate <a href='#pl181'>181</a>). The result is grand and broad, adapted to
+the climate, and even reminiscent of the Indian architectural past in some of its forms
+and features. Towards the designing of such a major monument generations of Frenchmen
+and others who studied at the Beaux-Arts had been prepared; there is a certain
+irony that this opportunity came to an Englishman, trained in the most private and
+individualistic English way.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Nashdom and Great Maytham represent a side of Lutyens’s mature talent that follows
+rather directly from Webb’s Smeaton Manor of the seventies (Plate <a href='#pl102a'>102<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). The work at
+the Hampstead Garden Suburb, and above all that at Delhi, represents another side. On
+the one side he had a few worthy rivals: Leonard A. S. Stokes (1858-1925)<a id="r532"></a><a href='#f532' class='c025'><sup>[532]</sup></a> was a
+more adventurous architect than he around 1900, with some leaning towards the Art
+Nouveau; Shaw’s pupil Newton was almost as competent at Neo-Georgian work.
+Those who tried to rival him on the other side, however, Sir Reginald Blomfield
+(1856-1942), a pupil of Norman Shaw, and Sir Herbert Baker (1862-1946), a pupil of
+Ernest George, hardly deserve mention, even though their work bulks very large on
+the London scene.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Blomfield’s watered-down version of Shaw’s quadrant façade of the Piccadilly Hotel,
+carried out in the twenties, has been mentioned. Better examples of what may be called
+in W. S. Gilbert’s terms his ‘not too French, French’ academicism face Piccadilly Circus.
+But his pretensions to cosmopolitanism, although based on a very considerable knowledge
+of French seventeenth- and eighteenth-century architecture, did not serve him as
+well as Lutyens’s purely English background in continuing along the ‘Monumental
+Queen Anne’ line of Shaw’s late work.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Baker’s outrageous rape of Soane’s masterpiece, the Bank of England, carried out over
+the years 1921-37, has also been mentioned; it was literally a fate worse than death.
+Despite a half-hearted decision to preserve a good deal of the relatively unimportant
+exterior, the Tivoli Corner was pointlessly stripped of its idiosyncratic crown, presumably
+in the name of Baker’s superior ‘taste’. His South Africa House of 1935, moreover,
+all but ruins Trafalgar Square.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens’s Midland Bank of 1924, near the Bank of England in Poultry, like Baker’s
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_408'>408</span>bank almost a skyscraper in size if not in height, at least required the destruction of no
+earlier work of distinction and is undoubtedly more consistently and personally designed.
+Yet the cliff-like massiveness of its walls, with even less evidence of the underlying
+structural skeleton than in office buildings of this period by American architects,
+is almost as anti-urbanistic as Baker’s Bank of England. Because of the very narrow
+streets of the area, the filling up of the City of London with such structures, very few of
+them even of this degree of intrinsic interest, was a tragedy of the twenties that even
+bombing did not put right. The superiority of Corbett’s Bush House, not in the rather
+flat detailing but in the exploitation of the fine site at the foot of Kingsway, and even in
+the politeness of the plain foil it offers to the Baroque elaboration of Gibbs’s St Mary-le-Strand,
+is very notable.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens’s other big Midland Bank buildings, one of 1928 in Leadenhall Street in the
+City and one of 1929 in King Street in Manchester, are not much of an improvement
+over that in Poultry. However, his elegant little Midland Bank of 1922 in Piccadilly in
+front of Wren’s St James’s is a rich and inventive exercise in the vein of Wren built of
+brick and stone. Anachronistic as such a design must be considered, the verve of the
+<i>pastiche</i> nevertheless has a distinct appeal, like a plausibly realistic setting on the stage.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens’s most successful big business building is doubtless Britannic House of 1924-7.
+This profits from its site between Finsbury Circus and Moorgate Street, the curve of the
+Circus giving to the eastern front a certain major Baroque drama that is echoed in the
+versatile play with seventeenth-eighteenth-century motifs in the detailing. But one may
+well prefer the massively mock-Egyptian effect of Adelaide House by London Bridge,
+built by Sir John Burnet &amp; Tait in 1924-5. This, at least, makes some approach to the
+new ideals of the Continent in these years. Burnet, moreover, had been for decades one
+of the most competent British practitioners in a local version of the international
+Beaux-Arts mode, as his King Edward VII wing of the British Museum of 1904 notably
+illustrates. Three years later Tait was the first English-born architect<a id="r533"></a><a href='#f533' class='c025'><sup>[533]</sup></a> to attempt
+to build in the International Style, as has been mentioned earlier. The closest Lutyens
+came to the Continental modes of the twenties was in his public housing.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Public housing in England between the wars was generally rather routine in design
+despite the statistical importance of its social achievement, lacking either the drama of
+the Dutch or the restraint of the Scandinavians. On the one occasion when Lutyens
+turned his attention to this field, on the Grosvenor Estate in Westminster in 1928, he
+succeeded beyond all expectation. The bold device of chequering all the façades of
+his blocks of flats in alternate oblongs of brickwork, plain stucco panels, and windows
+is somewhat inhuman in scale but notably effective. The contrast is striking to the
+work of the twenties by the London County Council Architect’s Office. In that a type of
+design not unsuited to semi-detached houses in middle-class suburbs was spread thin
+over vast many-storeyed masses.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Lutyens, one feels, in a different time and place—a generation earlier in England, say,
+or a generation later—might have been a greater architect. But even as his career
+actually worked out, he is not unworthy to occupy the place given him here as the ‘last
+traditionalist’. Since his death there has not been, either in England or elsewhere, any
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_409'>409</span>traditional or even semi-traditional building of consequence, unless one wishes to consider
+Perret’s work at Le Havre in the latter category.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The traditional architecture of the first third of the twentieth century in Italy and
+France, headquarters in so many ways of the major architectural traditions of the
+western world, is disappointing beside that of the countries discussed so far. In the case
+of France, the situation is confused by the modulation of Perret’s style towards a semi-traditional
+Classicism which, by the thirties, official and academic taste was ready to
+meet half-way. In Italy Marcello Piacentini (1881-1960), the son of the architect of the
+Academy of Fine Arts in the Via Nazionale in Rome, always had more vitality than
+the French of his generation other than Perret. From the new <i>città bassa</i> of Bergamo,
+for which he won the competition in 1907 and which was executed in 1922-4, through
+his general responsibility for the <i>Terza Roma</i>, Mussolini’s vast project for a new capital
+between old Rome and Ostia which was to have opened with an exhibition in 1942,
+there is a certain assurance and amplitude of scale lacking in most contemporary work
+in France. Mussolini, in the middle years of Fascism, was not averse to modern architecture,
+as we have seen. When, under German influence, he began to turn against the
+International Style the choice of Piacentini to set a neo-imperial pace was as natural as
+Hitler’s return to the modes of twenty years earlier in Germany. Moreover, from the
+public buildings of Bergamo through the ‘New Towns’ below Rome—Littoria,
+Sabaudia, Pontinia, etc., mostly destroyed during the Second World War—to the arcaded
+cube of La Padulla’s Palace of Italian Civilization at the <i>Terza Roma</i>, nicknamed
+by Italians the ‘Square Colosseum’, fine materials, clean if familiar proportions, and
+excellent craftsmanship provide certain lasting qualities not unworthy of Italian national
+traditions. Where Fascist work is interpolated in an earlier urbanistic scheme, as along the
+Via Roma in Turin between the Piazza San Carlo and the Piazza Carlo Felice, the
+new buildings of 1938—here by Piacentini—fit as well with the seventeenth-century
+buildings of the one as with the nineteenth-century ones of the other. For all their
+obviousness, moreover, the colonnades of the Via Roma, all of polished granite monoliths,
+have a truly Roman scale and dignity. Even the Square Colosseum has a Chirico-like
+obsessive force, like something out of a dream; while the big unfinished structures
+around it, only now being completed, are not altogether without virtues to balance the
+mid century conventionality of those that have lately risen beside them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>To pursue the subject of traditional architecture further would be merely to explore
+what can now be seen to have been not so much a cul-de-sac as a road without a goal.
+The standards of traditionalism—standards of ‘taste’, of ‘literacy’, of ingenious adaptation—were
+still on the whole nineteenth-century ones. Yet down into the thirties,
+traditional buildings were the big trees in the forest of twentieth-century architecture;
+with the rise of a new range of giants in the forest, the seedlings from which they grew
+seem now to have been more significant: Asplund’s Stockholm Exhibition of 1930 and
+his Crematorium there of 1935-40 tend to obscure our vision of his earlier Library,
+although that is perhaps finer considered absolutely. So also the Philadelphia Savings
+Fund Society skyscraper of 1932, so clearly the immediate ancestor of those built in the
+last decade, draws attention away from the Woolworth Building. In England continuity
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_410'>410</span>has been so completely broken that it is hard to realize how much the ‘Mannerist’
+façade-treatment of Drake &amp; Lasdun’s tall housing slabs of 1946-56 on the Paddington
+Estate has in common with Lutyens’s chequered Grosvenor Estate blocks of thirty years
+ago. However the future may evaluate the achievements of the traditional architects
+of the early twentieth century, the chapter is now closed.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_411'>411</span>
+  <h2 id='ch25' class='c013'><span class='c027'>CHAPTER 25</span><br />ARCHITECTURE AT THE MID CENTURY</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>To</span> describe the state of architecture in the late forties and early fifties, before and after
+the mid-point of this century, is far more difficult than to sketch its condition a hundred
+and fifty years earlier, as the first chapter of this book attempted. The western world
+was enormously larger in geographical extent, vastly more populous, and as a result
+very much more productive of buildings of all types and at all levels of quality. Many
+of the types most important in the twentieth century—big business buildings, low-cost
+public housing, facilities for transportation such as bus stations and airports—did not
+exist in 1800. These difficulties are objective and merely imply that the sampling of
+executed work must be relatively much more limited. But the very limited selection
+provided here is inevitably influenced by subjective criteria. The activity of two generations
+of historians writing on the architecture of the early nineteenth century has produced
+something approaching a consensus of opinion as to what is and what is not important
+or characteristic in that period. There remains, of course, much to be discovered
+concerning building in the decades around 1800, particularly as interest rises in the technical
+aspects of the story; yet the engineers<a id="r534"></a><a href='#f534' class='c025'><sup>[534]</sup></a> are unlikely ever to force the Soanes and the
+Schinkels out of the centre of the picture: moreover, men like Latrobe and Mills were
+themselves as much engineers as architects.</p>
+<p class='c010'>Already, in carrying the story of the production of the leading architects of the first
+and second generations of modern architecture down to the mid fifties, a certain
+emphasis has been given to their work in the production of the last decades. The decisions
+as to what to include in rounding out the picture are critical ones hardly comparable
+to the relatively objective historical process of selection that controls in the First and
+Second Parts of this book. The very extent in time of what should be considered ‘the
+present’ is a subjective matter. I have known American architectural students whose
+present was so limited that they had never heard of Perret! To anyone under thirty the
+effective present will hardly extend backward more than five or ten years. To keep this
+chapter still more or less historical I have saved consideration of the years since the later
+fifties for an <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In most countries of the western world the Second World War occasioned a hiatus
+in construction that lasted nearly a full decade from the slowing down that came with
+Munich in the late thirties to the general revival of building activity in the late forties.
+There is therefore a real lack of continuity between pre-war and post-war building except
+in those countries that remained neutral. But just as the break in the continuity
+of building production around 1800 resulting from the Napoleonic Wars was a limited,
+not an absolute, phenomenon, since the truly revolutionary developments in architecture
+preceded rather than followed its onset, so there was in the last post-war period
+very little to be recognized at first that had not had its beginnings well before 1939.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_412'>412</span>The perspective of the war seemed somehow to flatten out some of the architectural
+episodes deemed to be significant in the mid thirties, not alone the Nazi and late Fascist
+reaction but such minor symptoms of dissatisfaction with the general line that architectural
+development had taken internationally since the early twenties as the rise of the
+Bay Region School<a id="r535"></a><a href='#f535' class='c025'><sup>[535]</sup></a> in America and of the New Empiricism in Europe. Historians
+are still rather uncertain how much weight to give to these matters. Once they lost the
+topicality of current events they seemed no more and no less significant than the rather
+similar critical flurries that came later concerning the ‘New Brutalism’ and ‘Neo-Liberty’.<a id="r536"></a><a href='#f536' class='c025'><sup>[536]</sup></a>
+Such flurries cannot be entirely ignored;<a id="r537"></a><a href='#f537' class='c025'><sup>[537]</sup></a> yet the general emendation of the
+rigid doctrines of the ‘International Style’ was more strikingly illustrated by the continued
+high esteem of Wright’s latest productions and, <i>a fortiori</i>, by the warm critical
+reception of Le Corbusier’s remarkable church at Ronchamp than by any of the buildings
+that illustrated the schismatic reactions of the decade of the thirties. The accepted
+definitions of modern architecture had undoubtedly become very much looser than
+they were a generation earlier, partly as a result of various abortive attempts
+at more thoroughgoing revolt. But the greatest individualists were, paradoxically,
+not young men<a id="r538"></a><a href='#f538' class='c025'><sup>[538]</sup></a> in their thirties, but older masters in their late sixties, seventies, and
+eighties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The greatest change in the post-war architectural scene, a change that began gradually
+during the pre-war years, was the shift in the geographical pattern. No longer did France,
+Germany, and Holland occupy the centre of the stage. The rise of the United States to
+great prominence, continuing a development already begun in the 1870s, was not
+surprising. Far more surprising was the rise in the importance of Italy and Japan, not
+only because of their actual achievements, especially in concrete construction in both
+cases, but as major influences. This was presaged in Italy by the work of Terragni and
+of Figini &amp; Pollini in the mid thirties and was hardly inhibited there by the ambiguities
+of the later Fascist attitude towards architecture just before the Second World War.
+The post-war British achievement was more canalized; yet it was of an autochthonous
+character which a long-term consideration of English architectural abilities and disabilities
+makes more intelligible than that flurry of new ideas, so largely of foreign
+origin, characterizing the mid thirties in England.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Scandinavian countries retained their position of prominence but not pre-eminence
+in the international architectural scene. In contrast to their long-recognized virtues,
+some rather less relevant today than they once were, must be set the very different
+contribution of the Latin American countries, whose entry on the international scene all
+but post-dates the war. Production there was hardly worth mentioning a hundred and
+fifty years ago; by the late forties Brazil, Mexico, Colombia, and Venezuela were
+making a contribution on a par, in quantity and even in quality, with older and richer
+countries. Moreover, while the West was more and more losing political control of
+Africa and Asia, its cultural influence on those continents did not necessarily decline,
+indeed as regards architecture it probably increased. Modern architecture, originally
+developed to utilize to the full the most advanced technologies, was found to serve
+especially well also in areas where technology was least advanced. Indeed, the most
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_413'>413</span>characteristic building material of modern architecture, ferro-concrete, is often exploited
+most ingeniously in countries where materials are dear and labour cheap.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Not only did many outlying parts of the world import architects along with other
+technicians from the West; Asia, which lay almost entirely outside the field of western
+culture a century and a half ago, produced a great modern school in Japan. Various
+Dominions and dependencies—South Africa, Australia, Puerto Rico, for example—likewise
+began to have active groups of local practitioners operating in close consort of
+principle with those of Europe and North America.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>With so wide a range of lively activity, no continent-by-continent, much less country-by-country,
+survey of modern architecture is possible in a single short chapter. Even
+allowing for all the enormous climatic and cultural differences that still affect architectural
+production, there was still sufficient identity of principle in architecture throughout
+most of the world to justify an international consideration of post-war achievement in
+terms of various building types, moving from the macrocosm down to the microcosm—from
+the whole city as a planned product of architectural design to the individual
+dwelling-house.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite its vast productive capacity, the old western world in the mid twentieth
+century created rather fewer urban entities of distinction than did the nineteenth.
+Partly, this was because the building of cities necessarily remains a slower process than
+the building of individual structures, even in an age when there are many fiat towns and
+also much concerted rebuilding of older cities partially cleared by bombing in the
+Second World War. Even more, perhaps, it is because it takes far longer for the ‘planning’
+ideals of architects in any period to achieve a degree of public acceptance sufficient
+to ensure over decades proper control of layout and construction—or reconstruction—of
+whole cities than to find clients, even governmental clients, for single buildings or for
+extensive, but piecemeal, social projects.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perret’s Le Havre (Plate <a href='#pl140a'>140<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) has earlier been characterized as the realization—notable
+even if belated—of ideals that date back before the First World War. None of
+the post-war ‘New Towns’ of England were complete enough by the mid fifties to be
+apprehensible as urban entities; for the most part they were still only large-scale housing
+developments—suburbs in search of a city, so to say—realizing at a considerably lower
+economic level the ideals of the Garden Cities of fifty years before. Better than the
+English examples and indicative of the widespread acceptance of Garden-City ideals
+was Vållingby in Sweden.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>More complete urban entities of the mid century could be seen in such heavily
+bombed and largely rebuilt cities as Coventry in England or Hanover in Germany;
+yet in neither case was the architectural achievement of the highest contemporary order.
+They should be compared for quality with Napoleon III’s Paris or Francis Joseph’s
+Vienna rather than with Alexander I’s Petersburg or Ludwig I’s Munich, and even that
+comparison is not always very favourable to them.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the extensive and almost explosive expansion and reconstruction of various Latin
+American cities it was only in Caracas that the planner Maurice Rotival was able to keep
+a bit ahead of the builders. But even Caracas still had only samples of the characteristic
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_414'>414</span>new urbanism of the mid twentieth century: two or three isolated skyscrapers and a
+housing development, the Cerro Piloto, differing from those in other parts of the world
+chiefly by its very great extent and its superb mountain-backed site. The North American
+cities that were growing fastest, Houston or Los Angeles or Miami Beach or Toronto
+in Canada, were at least as chaotic as the Latin American ones, and neither the quantity
+nor the quality of the individual buildings was as high. Against the eruptive growth of
+a city like São Paulo in Brazil might be better balanced such a North American programme
+of large-scale rebuilding as that which had already cleared the Golden Triangle
+in Pittsburgh, replacing typical nineteenth-century urban congestion with an open
+park and spaced cruciform skyscrapers. The new capital of Brazil, Brasilia, was not
+planned by Lúcio Costa even on paper until 1957.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The mid twentieth century had no full-scale cities that properly exemplified the
+highest ideals of modern architects. It would be necessary to wait, with fingers crossed,
+even to see the results of such piecemeal projects of reconstruction as that proposed by
+Sir William Holford for the bombed district around St Paul’s Cathedral in London,<a id="r539"></a><a href='#f539' class='c025'><sup>[539]</sup></a> and
+still longer for such complete cities as Brasilia and Chandigarh where, however, the
+public buildings by Le Corbusier were in the mid fifties rapidly rising. But there were
+also in existence already certain special entities of almost urban scale planned since the
+Second World War that deserve attention. Notable are the ‘university cities’, complete
+educational plants located on new terrain, planned as a whole and designed as regards
+their individual buildings either by a single team of architects or by several teams whose
+work was closely co-ordinated from start to finish. The most remarkable of these is
+that of the University of Mexico, but even here the difference in quality between such
+highly original structures as the Olympic Stadium of Augusto Perez Palacios (b. 1909),
+Raúl Salinas Moro, and Jorge Bravo Jiménez of 1951-2, with its fine relief mosaic by
+Diego Rivera, or the Central Library of Juan O’Gorman, Gustavo Saavedra, and Juan
+Martinez de Velasco of 1951-3, with its stack tower entirely covered with mosaics designed
+by O’Gorman, and certain of the other equally large and prominent buildings is
+very notable (Plate <a href='#pl184'>184</a>). The university city of Rio de Janeiro, for which Le Corbusier
+was originally called to Brazil to provide a plan in 1936, was by no means so far advanced;
+but the control of the design of all the principal buildings by one architect, Jorge Moreira
+(b. 1904), who is one of the three or four ablest in Brazil, seemed to promise a homogeneity
+of character and a distinction of finish unique in this field. Among several other
+Latin American examples begun and partly built by the mid fifties, that at Caracas by
+Carlos Raúl Villanueva (b. 1900) rivals in its principal building, the Aula Magna of
+1952-3 with its extraordinary acoustic ceiling by the technician Robert Newman and
+the sculptor Sandy Calder, the achievement of the Mexicans.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Of a very different character indeed, and initiated much earlier, is the University of
+Aarhus<a id="r540"></a><a href='#f540' class='c025'><sup>[540]</sup></a> in Denmark for which Kay Fisker, C. F. Møller (b. 1898), and Povl Stegmann
+(1888-1944) won the competition in 1931. Some of its many buildings date from
+before the Second World War: professors’ houses of 1933, student residences of 1934,
+museum of natural history of 1937-8; while most of the classroom buildings were
+actually erected in the war years 1942-6. The work continues in the hands of Møller,
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_415'>415</span>and the layout of the beautiful sloping site was by C. Th. Sørenson (b. 1893). Built of buff
+brick with tile roofs of medium pitch, the general effect is much quieter than that of the
+Latin American university cities with their tall ferro-concrete buildings, crisply shaped
+and distinguished both by a bold use of colour and the conspicuous incorporation of
+work by distinguished painters and sculptors. At first sight—and to the prejudiced—the
+University of Aarhus may appear more conservative; but the range of the new architecture
+is recognized today as being wider than it was thirty years ago, and Møller’s
+<i>aula</i> in its very different way is quite as advanced as Villanueva’s; or even, for that matter,
+as the shell-domed auditorium of 1952-5 at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology
+in Cambridge, Mass., by Eero Saarinen (1910-61).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>One of the earliest individual building types to find wholly untraditional expression
+was the large block of offices. The skyscraper reached maturity early in the hands of
+Sullivan in Chicago; the later vagaries of the form in New York did not recommend it
+to European emulation, although skyscraper projects by Mies, by Gropius, and by Le
+Corbusier were among the most notable early evidences of the birth—on paper—of a
+new architecture in the years 1919-22. Howe &amp; Lescaze’s Philadelphia Savings Fund
+Society Building of a decade later was the first large-scale example of the acceptance in
+America of the new architecture of Europe; but during the thirties skyscraper-building
+languished, and many critics thought that their day was already over. In many parts of
+the world that day had yet to dawn, and Europe still had very few notable examples to
+offer, but in the New World the fifties saw the start of a new wave of skyscraper building
+by no means confined to the United States. For the first time since the nineties a
+rather considerable number of really distinguished examples were being built in both
+North and South American cities. Wright’s Price Tower at Bartlesville, Okla., a relatively
+modest one, and Mies and Johnson’s Seagram Building in New York have both
+been mentioned already. Diagonally across Park Avenue in New York from the site of
+the Seagram tower stands the first epoch-making post-war skyscraper in New York,
+Lever House, designed by Gordon Bunshaft (b. 1909) of the Skidmore, Owings &amp;
+Merrill firm and built in 1950-2 (Plate <a href='#pl189'>189</a>). The almost completely glazed curtain-walls
+of the east and west sides of the United Nations Secretariat in New York—built in 1947-50
+by Wallace K. Harrison (b. 1895) and his partner Max Abramowitz (b. 1908) but
+incorporating ideas provided by an international panel of which Le Corbusier and
+Niemeyer were members—are carried round three sides of Bunshaft’s slab. More significant,
+however, is the fact that this slab, rising like the isolated United Nations building
+with no setbacks, covers only a portion of the available site. Thus it stands in its own
+envelope of space carved, as it were, out of the solid canyon of Park Avenue, just as
+Mies and Johnson would later set their building back 100 feet from the avenue and well
+in from both the side streets also. Their ‘plaza’ is unconfined; Bunshaft’s open space
+is defined by a mezzanine on <i>pilotis</i> carried round an unroofed court.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Reacting against the almost totally glazed curtain-wall of his U.N. Secretariat, a type
+of sheathing for large urban structures then spreading very rapidly to other countries,
+Harrison on the Alcoa Building of 1952 in Pittsburgh used storey-high panels of aluminium
+cut by relatively small windows. This alternative type of sheathing has been less
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_416'>416</span>exploited since, however, than the more completely glazed sort. There was a curious
+revival of Expressionist feeling in the complex angular design of the glazed lobby of the
+Alcoa Building that contrasted sharply with the paradigmatic expression of the ‘International
+Style’ seen in the Equitable Building in Portland, Ore., of 1948 by Pietro
+Belluschi (b. 1899), the earliest of the interesting post-war skyscrapers. A later Western
+skyscraper, the Mile-High Center in Denver, Col., completed by I. M. Pei (b. 1907) in
+1955, followed almost more closely the formula of Mies’s Lake Shore Drive Apartments
+in Chicago than he did himself in the design of the Seagram Building.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is invidious to mention only these few North American examples, but production
+of similar skyscrapers was already so nation-wide in the United States and in Canada
+that one can still hardly hope to see the individual trees for the forest. There are good
+reasons why those selected for illustration or mention are likely to remain conspicuous
+and not become lost in the crowd. But skyscrapers are no longer a prerogative of North
+America; some of the finest were rising in Latin America, and these would before long
+be rivalled by European examples already projected or even under construction by 1955.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>It is a mistake to assume that North Americans housed business only in skyscrapers.
+More and more large corporations were moving their headquarters to the open country.
+Quite as significant as Lever House in the production of Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill in
+the mid fifties was the 700-foot-square but only four-storeyed office plant of the
+Connecticut General Insurance Company of 1955-7, set in a park of eighteenth-century
+size and amenity at Bloomfield, Conn., some ten miles outside Hartford, the insurance
+capital. Luxury of materials, white marble and granite as well as aluminium, makes up
+somewhat for the rigid asceticism of the standardized walls, while four interior court
+gardens by Noguchi and three pink granite figures by him on the slope beyond the
+‘artificial water’ in which swans swim about below the all-glass cafeteria further balance
+the expression of crisp efficiency with something warmer and more humane.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In most Latin American cities all-glass walls are impractical because of the heat and the
+glare of the sun. As a result, architects have developed various versions of the sun-break
+system introduced twenty years ago on the first tall modern building to be erected in
+that part of the world, the Ministry of Education in Rio; glazed curtain-walls were by
+no means unknown, however. The egg-crate sun-breaks of the Edificio C.B.I. of 1948-51
+in São Paulo by Lucjan Korngold (b. 1897) and the horizontally patterned grid of the
+Retiro Odontológico of 1953-4 in Havana by Antonio Quintana Simonetti and
+Manuel A. Rubio give these buildings a very different look from such examples of more
+North American character as the building in the Calle de Niza at the corner of the Calle
+de Londres in Mexico City of 1952-3 by Juan Sordo Madaleno (b. 1916), or that of
+the Suramericana de Seguros in the Avenida Jiménez de Quesada in Bogotá of 1954 by
+Cuéllar, Serrano, Gomez &amp; Co.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The most ingenious and best designed Latin American skyscraper of the fifties, however,
+is the completely isolated Edificio Polar of 1953-4 at the Plaza Venezuela in Caracas.
+This was built by Martin Vegas Pacheco (b. 1926), a pupil of Mies at the Illinois Institute
+of Technology, and his partner José Miguel Galia, a pupil of the one distinguished
+South American architect of the first modern generation, Julio Vilamajó, at
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_417'>417</span>the University of Montevideo. Here the structure was reduced to four ferro-concrete
+piers from which the curtain-walls were cantilevered out 11 feet on all four sides. The
+curtain-walls have a varied infilling, part solid sandwiches of plywood and aluminium
+sheeting, part louvres that transmit air but not light, and part glass. These are combined
+in different proportions on each side according to the orientation in order to control
+the glare and the heat of the sun while providing direct ventilation. Since this tower
+was isolated, it needed no envelope of space; in fact, however, the wider mezzanine
+extending under the base of the tower does provide this. The two open storeys, one at
+ground level and one above the mezzanine, give a lightness of effect and a frank view
+of the essential structure that is even more striking than at Lever House, where the
+relation of the towering slab to the mezzanine is less boldly handled.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>European skyscrapers<a id="r541"></a><a href='#f541' class='c025'><sup>[541]</sup></a> as yet rarely rivalled North American ones in height, and
+few large urban office buildings reached even the median level of quality of those in
+Latin America. In rebuilding bombed cities, however, there were opportunities that
+could readily be exploited for carrying certain buildings very high over a portion only
+of their sites, as was first done in North America at Lever House, but using the ampler
+spaces provided by the replanning of the cities to extend lower blocks from the main
+slab. One of the best examples of this treatment is the Continental Rubber Building of
+1952-3 in Hanover by Werner Dierschke and Ernst Zinsser, which replaces Behrens’s
+ponderous block of thirty years earlier that was destroyed in the war. The surfacing
+materials, mostly various stones, are serviceable and the general composition well studied,
+but the proportions lack the elegant lightness of the Edificio Polar. Yet the whole
+achieved a ‘reality’ of effect lacking in the C.B.I. in São Paulo, which looks, despite its
+great size, rather like a cardboard model; or Lever House, which too much resembles a
+slick cellophane-wrapped package. Some German commercial work at smaller scale
+was more refined, as, for example, the Haus der Glas-Industrie of 1951 at Düsseldorf by
+Bernhard Pfau and Pempelfort Haus there of 1954 by Hentrich &amp; Petschnigg, or the
+Burda-Moden Building of the same date in Offenburg by Egon Eiermann. Hentrich &amp;
+Petschnigg are also responsible for the striking BASF skyscraper at Ludwigshafen, the
+tallest built in the Old World up to the mid fifties.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Post-war Italian commercial work was more varied and imaginative than in other
+countries, but the tallest examples were not the best. Very often it was the fine marble
+or mosaic surfacing—echoed in the BASF—and the high quality of the craftsmanship
+that seemed to give them interest and an effect of luxury rarely yet found in other
+countries, rather than real distinction of design. Interestingly enough, since post-war
+Latin America has tended to follow Italian models, one of the best Italian buildings of
+this decade, the Olivetti offices in Milan of 1954-5 by G. A. Bernasconi, Annibale
+Fiocchi (b. 1915), and M. Nizzoli, has a very Latin American air because of its prominent
+sun-breaks. This was one of the few buildings premiated by the international jury at the
+São Paulo Biennal in 1957, and the only non-Brazilian one.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Industrial construction has not even yet been as fully accepted into the realm of architecture
+as has commercial building for the last hundred years. Ever since the factories of
+Behrens and the warehouses of Perret, however, industrial commissions have played an
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_418'>418</span>increasingly important part in modern architectural production. Probably the largest
+acreage of good factory-building just after the war, as earlier in the century, was in
+North America. With rising standards of amenity, moreover, and the substitution of road
+haulage for rail transportation, factories came out from behind the railway tracks and
+took their proper place visually as well as functionally, with well-maintained grounds
+as important features, in regional planning. It is hard to single out particular factories
+for mention, if only because their design, whether it is by engineers or by specialist
+architectural firms like Albert Kahn, Inc., had arrived at a largely anonymous standardization—the
+fate, incidentally, towards which some critics see all twentieth-century
+architecture as inevitably moving.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The General Motors Technical Institute at Warren, Mich., completed by Eero
+Saarinen in 1955 after a decade of planning and construction, is almost more comparable
+in scale and complexity to a university city than to a factory; yet this group of twenty-five
+buildings organized round a large rectangular artificial lake is also in its use and in
+its character a major example of American industrial building raised at the behest of a
+corporate client into the realm of distinguished architecture
+(Plate <a href='#pl168b'>168<span class='fss'>B</span></a>; Figure 55). Little
+or no link remained between this and even the latest buildings designed by Eliel Saarinen
+on which his son collaborated, although the former was involved in this commission
+down to his death in 1950. Instead, the influence of Mies was very strong, since in the
+younger Saarinen’s estimation the Miesian discipline was specially suitable for giving order
+to such a project, in terms both of over-all planning and of the characteristic structural
+vocabulary of curtain-walling. Yet the necessary variety of size and shape of the buildings,
+determined in part by the very different activities that they house, from power-houses
+and engine-test cells to the Styling Centre for new motor-car models, made impossible
+the imposition of so classic a pattern as Mies had aimed to produce at the
+Illinois Institute of Technology (Figure <a href='#i389'>52</a>). In conscious avoidance of the monotony of
+the motor-car factories around Detroit, which run on without modification for thousands
+of feet, and in pursuit of ideals which most modern planners have realized only on
+paper, Eero Saarinen accented his long lake-front with a water-tower all of stainless steel
+rising out of the water and provided a special domed unit at the south end to house the
+display of new models beside the one section of the complex to which the outside
+world has some access. Moreover, he varied the characteristic metal-and-glass vocabulary
+of the façades—the metal in general black oxidized aluminium, the glass greenish
+in tone to reduce glare in the interiors—with solid walls of glazed brick in various brilliant
+colours, almost rivalling the Mexicans in the intensity of the reds, blues, yellows,
+and greens that he chose. As with the later Connecticut General plant, sculpture of distinction,
+here by Antoine Pevsner, provides a note of humane interest amid all the expression
+of mechanistic efficiency.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In Europe the Olivetti Company were more consistent patrons of distinguished design
+in architecture than General Motors. The main plant at Ivrea, designed by Figini &amp;
+Pollini, is small by American standards, and has been in existence for some time—since
+1942. It is chiefly notable because it is the heart, as it is the <i>raison d’être</i>, of an
+architectural programme of almost urbanistic scope at Ivrea that is still in process of</p>
+
+<div id='i419'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_419'>419</span>
+<img src='images/i419.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 55. Saarinen &amp; Saarinen: Warren, Mich., General Motors Technical Institute, 1946-55, layout</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'><span class='pageno' id='Page_420'>420</span>realization by Figini &amp; Pollini and by the resident architect Fiocchi, whose small foundry
+of 1954-5 is an exemplary industrial unit of almost Miesian elegance. Characteristic
+now of most Latin countries are the sun-breaks on the south-west side of the large Ivrea
+factory; while the north-east façade rises four storeys in sheer glass like a vast extension
+of Gropius’s studio block at the Bauhaus. Of the present period of the fifties, and better
+sited, more articulated, and more self-complete, is the later Olivetti factory at Pozzuoli
+near Naples by Luigi Cosenza. Structurally, however, the industrial work of the engineer
+Nervi is more original.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Factories are still more likely to be designed by engineers than by architects; but the
+contribution of engineers to their design is by no means always standardized and monotonous.
+Particularly in those countries where the lack of steel encourages the use of
+ferro-concrete, engineers were devising notably imaginative solutions to the problems of
+space-coverage and lighting. The Spanish-born engineer Candela in Mexico worked
+with ferro-concrete vaults in industrial construction with the casual ease and <i>ad hoc</i> ingenuity
+of a twelfth-century Frenchman building in stone; yet his church of Nuestra
+Señora de los Milagros of 1953-5 gave the impression of being a reversion to Expressionism,
+despite the unassailable mathematical and structural logic of the hyperbolic
+paraboloid forms of its ‘ruled surfaces’. The Italian-born José Delpini, in such factories
+as his S.I.T. Spinning Shed of 1949-50 at Pilar in Argentina, easily rivalled the work of
+the leading modern architects of Argentina in the distinction as in the scale of his buildings.
+The Danish-born Ore Arup in England, working with the Architects Co-Partnership
+on the artificial rubber factory at Bryn Mawr in Wales, provided one of the most
+notable large-scale buildings in post-war Great Britain, and deserves much of the credit
+for it. To return to the work of architects, it should be noted that in England, where
+most post-war industrial building was rather modest in size, the power-stations of Farmer
+&amp; Dark, culminating in that of 1955-7 at Marchwood, have a grandeur of scale
+and a logic of partially open design that ordinary factories can almost never rival.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Industrial building, still at the frontier of architecture despite the great contribution it
+has made to more general developments since the English mills of the 1790s, was notably
+international in its twentieth-century standards and its achievements. The leading industrial
+firms, such as Albert Kahn, Inc., and that of Frankland Dark were asked to build in
+many parts of the world, for the traditions of the old-established technologies are of
+especial value in such work. The continued existence of cultural empires, so to call them,
+is still made manifest when English firms build power-houses and factories in the Middle
+and Far East. James Cubitt &amp; Partners<a id="r542"></a><a href='#f542' class='c025'><sup>[542]</sup></a> completed in Rangoon in 1955, for example, a
+pharmaceutical plant that was probably the largest post-war factory of architectural interest
+to be built by an English firm, just as their Technical College at Kumasi in Ghana
+built at the same time was a more considerable example of a mid-twentieth-century
+university city than England had yet seen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The provision of housing by organs of the State had come to be recognized almost
+everywhere as an essential social service, quite as modern architects always insisted that
+it should be. Le Corbusier’s Unité at Marseilles is doubtless the most striking single
+example of the tall structures, slabs or ‘point-blocks’, which were increasingly the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_421'>421</span>characteristic form of such housing, but the most notable general programmes of production
+were still found in England, in certain Latin American countries, and in Denmark
+and Sweden. The pressure of population-growth and the need for rebuilding after
+war-time destruction motivated such programmes almost everywhere, but in several
+countries notable otherwise for the high standard of their current architecture—the
+United States and Italy, for example—the results were disappointing indeed. A strong
+social tradition of public housing, moreover, as in Holland, even with the precedent
+there of the notably fine work of thirty and forty years ago, seemed then to be no
+guarantee of continued excellence in this field. Although the rising popularity of housing
+in tall structures is still balanced in England by a strong attachment to small houses built
+in pairs or in terraces, such as comprise the greater part of the New Towns, English
+achievement in this field on the whole exceeded that of most other countries in the ten
+years after the war, both in quantity and in quality. The post-war pace was set by the
+Churchill Gardens of A. J. Philip Powell (b. 1921) and his partner Hidalgo Moya in
+Pimlico, London, for which the Westminster Borough Council was the client. For over a
+decade the planning and building of this vast urban project went forward towards completion
+with rising standards of design and finish. Perhaps the finest single block is De
+Quincey House, with its ingenious section of duplexes approached by access galleries.
+But the Architect’s Department of the London County Council, under the successive
+leadership of Robert Matthew (b. 1906) and of Sir Leslie Martin (b. 1908), in the last
+seven years equalled and perhaps exceeded in quality, as many times over in quantity, the
+achievement of Powell &amp; Moya. Whether on urban sites, such as that at Loughborough
+Road in South London (Plate <a href='#pl186b'>186<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), or on more open sites, as at the Ackroydon estate
+in Putney or at Roehampton, by the combination of tall blocks, some square in plan,
+some slab-like, with ranges of lower blocks of maisonettes and terraces of houses the
+L.C.C. has provided—piecemeal at least—examples of mid-twentieth-century urbanism
+more impressive than anything the New Towns yet offered. A provincial English
+example of comparable excellence is the Tile Hill Estate outside Coventry by the
+Borough Architect’s Office.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The forty-eight slabs of the Cerro Piloto development of 1955 built by the Banco
+Obrero, the Venezuelan public housing corporation, and designed by Guido Bermudez
+(b. 1925), rising against the mountains outside Caracas more than rival in extent and in
+scale the English examples. And in the Cerro Grande blocks of flats there, built in
+1953-5, Bermudez rivalled the ingenuity of Powell &amp; Moya and the L.C.C. in the
+use of duplexes. Interesting for the mixture of types—tall slabs, lower blocks of flats,
+and houses—is the Centro Urbano Presidente Juarez in Mexico City by Mario Pani
+(b. 1901); the handsome colours used here were chosen by the painter Carlos Mérida. But
+the most exemplary of the Latin American estates is Pedregulho outside Rio de Janeiro
+begun in 1948 by Affonso Eduardo Reidy (b. 1909). Here the tall serpentine block at
+the rear is entered at middle level from the hill slope, a scheme suggested by certain of Le
+Corbusier’s projects of the thirties for North Africa, and various community buildings
+provide something of New Town character in the development, as does a range of
+low blocks with shops at their base in the Tile Hill Estate at Coventry. Most notable is
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_422'>422</span>Reidy’s school at Pedregulho with its murals of <i>azulejos</i>—glazed tiles—by Cándido
+Portinari and its characteristic repertory of the architectural forms of the Cariocan
+School. Of that Reidy, a member of the original group who designed and built the
+Ministry of Education, was as much one of the founders as Oscar Niemeyer.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In the mid twentieth century, however, it is England that leads in school design
+and construction even more definitely than in the design of tall housing blocks. In
+particular, the Hertfordshire County Architect’s Office under C. H. Aslin (1893-1959)
+developed a system of construction using a light-metal skeleton and prefabricated concrete
+slabs of very great technical interest. Not all the Hertfordshire schools are designed
+in the County Architect’s Office, however, and some of the best were by private architects,
+such as the Architects’ Co-partnership and James Cubitt &amp; Partners (Plate <a href='#pl186a'>186<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+The new architecture has been more widely and successfully used for schools than for
+most other types of buildings. Outside England those of Donald Barthelmé in Texas,
+such as his Elementary School at West Columbia of 1952, and by Ernest J. Kump
+(b. 1911) in California may be especially noted, although they represent no such concerted
+programme of design and construction as has spread in England from Hertfordshire
+to other parts of the country. Outright ‘traditional’ schools are rare anywhere today.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>In church architecture the post-war situation was rather different. Although Perret
+and Wright, Moser and Böhm, among the older generation of modern architects, all
+built notable churches, until Le Corbusier’s Notre-Dame-du-Haut at Ronchamp the
+international leaders of the next generation were rarely called on to design them; and
+from Oud’s church of the late twenties at Oud Mathenesse through Mies’s Chapel of
+1950 at the Illinois Institute of Technology it seemed that the extreme rationalism
+of these men made it difficult if not impossible for them to provide ecclesiastical
+edifices which differed in any expressive way from meeting-halls. Something was said
+earlier of the more emotional concrete-vaulted church architecture of Böhm and
+the line of related advance in the last two decades from the semi-traditional, somewhat
+Gothic or Baroque, effects of the twenties to work of completely original character.
+Niemeyer’s São Francisco at Pampulha (Plate <a href='#pl190c'>190<span class='fss'>C</span></a>), completed in 1943, was one of the
+buildings that early established his reputation as one of the most imaginative architects
+of his generation anywhere in the world. Soon Latin American churches as different
+as Candela’s Nuestra Señora de los Milagros in Mexico City and the unvaulted Beato
+Martín Porres at Cataño outside San Juan in Puerto Rico by Henry Klumb (b. 1905), a
+pupil of Wright, were illustrating a wider range of possibilities; while Juvenal Moya’s
+Nuestra Señora de Fatimá and his chapel at the Ginnásio Moderno in Bogotá, the one
+of 1953-4, the other of 1954-5, followed—with considerable vulgarization—the more
+lyrical line of Niemeyer’s São Francisco.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Less operatic, but doubtless better adapted to Protestant use, are the churches in the
+American Northwest by Belluschi, notably the First Presbyterian of 1951 at Cottage
+Grove in Oregon. Various Swiss churches, some Catholic but more of them Protestant,
+followed also in this line, to which such earlier-mentioned churches as Moser’s Sankt
+Antonius in Basel of 1927 and the elder Saarinen’s Christ Lutheran, Minneapolis, of
+1948 belong (Plate <a href='#pl157b'>157<span class='fss'>B</span></a>). The younger Saarinen’s silo-like circular chapel of red brick
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_423'>423</span>at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology of 1954-5, however, reverted to something
+much more emotional. There is great ingenuity in the handling of the lighting,
+which streams down from above over a screen by Harry Bertoia and also penetrates
+more subtly round the edges of the low-arched base through the water of a surrounding
+moat.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Johnson’s synagogue in Port Chester, N.Y., of 1955-6, while severe in its general
+character, uses coloured glass in slots between the vertical slabs with which the visible
+steel frame is filled and also a curved awning-like ceiling of plaster to warm and enrich
+the basically Miesian paradigm. Accessories by the sculptor Ibrahim Lassaw also play
+an important part in the interior; while the oval domed entrance vestibule is an element
+of almost Baroque formal interest despite its ascetic simplicity of execution. Thus,
+two Mies disciples have offered in their ecclesiastical work correctives to the classroom-like
+coldness of his own chapel in Chicago.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Such large-scale constructions as factories and tall housing blocks, together with skyscrapers,
+represent the new architecture’s preoccupation with building problems that
+the nineteenth century had already essayed, but of which the development was not
+carried to its logical extremes, either technically or architecturally, before the present
+period. Curiously enough, in the provision of new edifices to serve the needs of
+transportation, the nineteenth century in its middle decades was rather more successful
+in bringing the railway station to quite early maturity than was the twentieth century
+with the airport. One of the largest and finest post-war buildings of Italy is the Rome
+railway station (Plate <a href='#pl183b'>183<span class='fss'>B</span></a>), and within a few years the active campaign of modernizing
+and rebuilding stations in Italy was notably reflected in other European countries. But
+airports had still to find so satisfactory an expression, partly because the expansion of
+traffic everywhere made them inadequate almost before they were completed. Too
+often the necessity for continual extension has destroyed such integrity of conception as
+the architects were able to give them in the first place. Some of the world’s busiest, such
+as Idlewild near New York and Midway near Chicago, were through the nineteen
+fifties near-shambles beside which century-old railway stations appeared as masterpieces
+of up-to-date organization! Here, as in many other fields of contemporary building,
+there seem to be two main lines of approach, but not properly to be distinguished as
+‘rational’ versus ‘emotional’, since both are almost entirely dependent on the structural
+solutions chosen. Of the first sort a relatively early example (which now carries only
+local traffic and has therefore not had to be expanded), the Santos Dumont Airport by
+the Roberto brothers begun in 1938 and largely completed after 1944 at the bay’s edge
+in downtown Rio de Janeiro, remains one of the best; for it is compactly planned, clear
+and direct in design, and elegant in the choice of materials and the use of colour. The San
+Juan Airport completed in 1955 by Torro, Ferrer &amp; Torregrossa<a id="r543"></a><a href='#f543' class='c025'><sup>[543]</sup></a> in Puerto Rico is
+larger and somewhat less refined in detail, but an excellent example of planning in terms
+of circulation. The vast London Airport by Gibberd was still incomplete.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Two other airports of much the same date, the very large one at St Louis by
+Minoru Yamasaki (b. 1912) and Joseph W. Leinweber, and the small one by Pani
+and his partner Enrique del Moral at Acapulco, used concrete shell vaults with very
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_424'>424</span>dramatic effect. It would seem that the ‘classic’ stage of airport design, reached in railway
+stations between 1845 and 1855, was only beginning in the late fifties, and its
+climax may well lie many years ahead.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From the airport to the individual dwelling, from the newest sort of structure to what
+is presumably the oldest, represents a considerable jump. Yet it is at least debatable
+whether the best houses of the mid twentieth century, continuing a line of development
+that has earlier been traced forward from 1800 (see Chapter <a href='#ch15'>15</a>), were not more satisfactory
+solutions of the problems their designing and building poses, both practically
+and aesthetically, than any of the airports mentioned. To a considerable extent they were
+as novel.<a id="r544"></a><a href='#f544' class='c025'><sup>[544]</sup></a> The dwelling may not, in the years after 1925, have developed primarily as a
+‘machine for living in’, according to Le Corbusier’s famous phrase, but it certainly
+became more and more a ‘box for housing machinery in’. As the relative proportion
+of the total cost spent for mechanical equipment went up, the shell had to shrink. As the
+shell shrank, planning was increasingly simplified. Only rarely was the ultimate in unification
+of space reached, as in Mies’s Farnsworth house or Philip Johnson’s own house in
+New Canaan, Conn., where only the bathroom is enclosed and the other subdivisions
+of the interior are but ranges of cupboards not reaching to the ceiling. Equally rare is
+the exclusively glass walling of these two houses, clearly the extreme point of a <i>crescendo</i>
+that goes back at least to the window-walls of the third quarter of the nineteenth
+century. But if they represented the end-point of several developments, from which
+there has since been a return even on the part of their own architects (Plate <a href='#pl190a'>190<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), the
+extremes that they illustrate were in many respects those towards which houses in general
+were then tending.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The house as a detached, individually-designed edifice was still for most people the
+ideal dwelling. But at no time since 1800 had such a dwelling been more of a luxury.
+Convenience and economy drove rich and poor alike towards more communal forms of
+habitation, whether they were the cabañas of the millionaires’ motels at Palm Springs or
+the low-cost flats in suburban ‘point-blocks’. In between these poles were all the varieties
+of terrace-housing, ‘semi-detachery’, and builders’ standardized products, ranging from
+conservative parodies of the individually designed houses of a generation ago through
+various vulgarizations of more modern houses to the prefabricated package-dwelling
+which seemed to be no nearer to receiving that general acceptance which would make it
+economical than it was a hundred years ago. Mass housing, no matter what form it
+took, whether the forty-eight tall slabs of the Cerro Piloto or the forty-eight hundred,
+more or less, semi-detached two-storey dwellings of an English housing estate, belongs
+increasingly to the world of bureaucratized architecture. The house, on the other
+hand, conceived as an individualized entity, remained almost as much a specialized and
+exceptional product as the church; yet the changes first made in individual houses
+gradually affected all housing standards. Particularly in North and South America
+they still provided architectural opportunities of the greatest interest and variety. Most
+Latin American houses, for example, retained the semi-oriental ideals of seclusion of the
+Iberian tradition; yet behind the walls surrounding their plots to cut out the world, they
+were often opener than houses in the United States, since a warm climate makes of the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_425'>425</span>patio or garden the principal living area. Niemeyer’s own house of 1954 at Gávea outside
+Rio de Janeiro is almost as much a glass box as Mies’s or Johnson’s, although its
+glass walls are set under a slab whose outline is a continuous free curve. The house of
+Osvaldo Arthur Bratke (b. 1907) at 3008 Avenida Morumbí outside São Paulo is also
+closer in plan and conception to houses in the United States, protection of various sorts
+being provided by grilles and movable shutters (Figure <a href='#i425'>56</a>).</p>
+
+<div id='i425'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/i425.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 56. Osvaldo Arthur Bratke: São Paulo, Morumbí, Bratke house, 1953, plan</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>There was considerable variety in mid-century house-design in Latin America, ranging
+all the way from such Mexican houses as those of Francisco Artigas (b. 1916) or
+Sordo Madaleno that present a blank wall to the street and yet open up completely
+to a patio or a garden, to Niemeyer’s open pavilion at Gávea. In North America there
+was perhaps even wider diversity. Despite the equalization of climate by then readily
+provided by heating and cooling facilities, there were still great differences between one
+region and another in the forces of nature that must be controlled or protected against,
+from the insects and hurricanes of Florida to the blizzards of Minnesota, than between the
+various countries of Latin America. Johnson’s Davis house at Wayzata in Minnesota was
+enclosed, however, not because of the climate, but in order to provide hanging
+space for an art collection, while it opens within on to a patio that can be roofed in
+winter (Figure <a href='#i426'>57</a>). Neither screening nor anchorage against high winds is conspicuous
+in the design of most of the Florida houses of Paul Rudolph (b. 1918). On the West
+Coast the aberrant casualness of the Bay Region manner of the thirties and forties now
+became increasingly disciplined. Wooden construction, pitched roofs, and a certain
+discursiveness of planning still contrasted, however, with more rigidly Miesian design;
+yet the finest houses of Joseph Esherick in and around San Francisco or of John
+Yeon in Portland, Ore., to mention only two West Coast architects, sometimes rivalled
+in distinction those of Johnson and Rudolph.</p>
+
+<div id='i426'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_426'>426</span>
+<img src='images/i426.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>Figure 57. Philip Johnson: Wayzata, Minn., Richard S. Davis house, 1954</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class='c010'>Whether the building of individual houses in other countries will ever again have the
+significance it still retains in the New World depends on many extra-architectural
+factors. The last thing a historian should pretend with regard to this or to any other
+aspect of the near-present is that he is capable of prophecy. The history of architecture
+in the second half of this century can only be written in the future. The glimpses—for
+they are no more than that—of post-war production given here represent a critic’s and
+not an historian’s selection, and a selection that has inevitably been much influenced by
+what that critic knows best at first hand.</p>
+
+<hr class='c029' />
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite the obligation to provide in the Introduction some sort of eighteenth-century
+foundation, this book had a real historical turning-point for its actual beginning; it had,
+in the mid 1950s, no such point at which to end. From Wright, near ninety, to men two
+generations younger, some of whom have been mentioned in this chapter, the work of
+the architects of the western world showed then no convincing evidence of a major and
+general turn, however surprising in the light of his work of the twenties Le Corbusier’s
+church at Ronchamp might seem. We stopped in mid-stream and even the <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>
+which follows can provide no true peroration. Fortunately the contemporary history of
+architecture is being recorded more promptly and completely than ever before in the
+professional press. It does not seem necessary to footnote this chapter or the <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_427'>427</span>with references to periodicals when every issue of the principal journals inevitably
+includes material illustrative of current production throughout the world. Yet when
+one leaves the world of history for the world of ‘current events’, the time has come to
+turn from books to periodicals. In the Bibliography there are naturally few ‘monographs’—i.e.
+books or summary articles—devoted to the men first mentioned in this
+chapter, since many of them were still at the outset of their careers.<a id="r545"></a><a href='#f545' class='c025'><sup>[545]</sup></a></p>
+
+<p class='c010'>From Papworth’s ‘Cottage Orné’ (Plate <a href='#pl122a'>122<span class='fss'>A</span></a>) to the slabs of Loughborough Road
+(Plate <a href='#pl186b'>186<span class='fss'>B</span></a>)—’model’ dwellings both; from the Bank of England to Thyssen Haus
+(Plate <a href='#pl191'>191</a>), both housing business as it was never housed before the period with which
+this book deals; from Baltimore Cathedral (Plate <a href='#pl005'>5</a>) to Notre-Dame-du-Haut (Plate <a href='#pl167'>167</a>),
+the range of notable achievement recorded in this book is not readily outranked in variety
+by any other hundred-and-fifty-year period in the history of the western world. As to
+the absolute quality of that achievement, as distinguished from what may be called the
+‘plot’-interest of various relatively coherent developments continuing over the last
+century and a half, it requires a very catholic taste indeed even to pretend to pronounce.
+The ‘revivals’ of the nineteenth century and the ‘traditionalism’ of the twentieth century
+accepted the dangerous challenge of meeting the earlier past on its own ground, and
+this in itself is enough to reduce the absolute value of most nineteenth- and twentieth-century
+production. Yet there were renaissances long before there were revivals; and at
+almost any given moment of the past most production has been the equivalent in stylistic
+retardation of the traditional architecture of the twentieth century. If one must have
+originality, these hundred and fifty years have not lacked it, from Ledoux and Soane
+to Gaudí and Wright. Of the hundreds of names mentioned in these twenty-five
+chapters there are few doubtless equal to Bramante or to Bernini, but how many were
+there in the preceding hundred and fifty years? while the variety of approach represented,
+from a Schinkel to a Le Corbusier, from a Butterfield to a Mies, is hardly to be equalled
+in any comparable period of history. Above all, this is the stage of architectural history
+that lies between the unhallowed present and the hallowed past, between the cultural
+certainties—if they were so certain—of the eighteenth century and the cultural anxieties
+of the present. What we are we can only hope to understand by exploring the immediate
+ancestry of our own present. Only revivalists could afford to denigrate and ignore all
+that lay between them and some ‘golden age’ they sought to emulate. The future must
+build upon the foundations—so very various, so often nearly contradictory—of the
+architecture of the last hundred and fifty years.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_429'>429</span>
+  <h2 id='epi' class='c013'>EPILOGUE</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'><span class='sc'>The</span> five years since the original edition of this book appeared have seen a building
+boom throughout the western world such as has rarely been equalled in other post-war
+periods; nor has this boom been confined to those countries of Europe and the Americas
+with which this account has chiefly been concerned. These have also been years of continuing—indeed
+increasing—uncertainty in architectural doctrine. As might have been
+expected, various tendencies already touched on in the preceding chapter—both positive
+(although often apparently reactionary) tendencies towards greater individuality, and
+negative or, at least in the present context, conservative tendencies towards somewhat
+tired repetition of pre-war clichés—have not only continued but become much stronger.
+The tonality of the over-all picture of current architectural production has by now
+definitely changed. That relative balance between what may, at their best, be called the
+Miesian and the Corbusian, still maintained almost everywhere in the mid fifties, had by
+the early sixties been upset. In hindsight, for example, it must now seem that such
+mature and established architects as the Finnish Alvar Aalto and the American Louis
+Kahn were inadequately treated in previous chapters—not to speak of such still older
+men whose activity has continued or been renewed as the Germans Hans Scharoun and
+the late Rudolf Schwarz. Various new names call for attention also: the Dutchman Aldo
+van Eyck, for example, the Norwegian Sverre Fehn, the Japanese Tange and Maekawa,
+the Italian Viganò, and the English firm of Stirling &amp; Gowan, to mention but a few that
+were all but unknown internationally in the mid fifties whose work is now of rising
+consequence.</p>
+<p class='c010'>For all the evidences of change, it is almost as difficult as it was five years ago to isolate
+the common denominator of the new tendencies except in negative terms. It is still
+easier to be explicit about what architects are moving away from—what they are
+rejecting—than whither they are headed. Any attempt in a few words to describe
+positively the present architectural climate faces the difficulty that only in certain
+extreme works are novel architectural ideals and ideas wholly dominant; while by no
+means all the current building that does <i>not</i> follow in the newer directions, either by
+older architects such as Mies himself or by those who have stayed faithful to his canons—whether
+intentionally or by default of any alternative allegiance—can yet be dismissed
+as merely vulgar, provincial, or <i>retardataire</i>.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The rejection of the advanced doctrines of the 1920s and 1930s has rarely been total.
+The assumption of some writers, moreover, that there has yet been any serious and concerted
+return to Beaux-Arts or other pre-modern standards is, as regards the attitude of
+most mature architects—even those who actually have such backgrounds—still something
+of an exaggeration. On the other hand, the current sensibilities to which architects
+such as Aalto and Kahn, at least, have been successfully appealing—and in Aalto’s case for
+some twenty-five years already—are certainly very different from the sensibilities that
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_430'>430</span>once responded to the crisp geometries, the smooth surfaces, the glass walls, and the
+minimal detailing of the Bauhaus (Plate <a href='#pl161a'>161<span class='fss'>A</span></a>), the Savoye house (Plate <a href='#pl159'>159</a>), and the
+Barcelona Pavilion (Plate <a href='#pl165a'>165<span class='fss'>A</span></a>). ‘Neo-Brutalism’, or <i>brutalismo</i>, is as dangerous a term
+to use indiscriminately as any other critical catchword that has been prematurely
+popularized. But it does suggest, at least by a play upon words in several languages, a
+current climate of taste which favours <i>béton brut</i>—naked concrete—and rough, usually
+rather dark-coloured, materials. Bricks, pre-cast slabs with a coarse aggregate in relief,
+or even stone masonry of rubble or quarry-faced granite, with rather heavy trim of raw
+or varnished wood and wrought iron, are widely preferred to the slicker, more highly
+finished elements that are the natural product of the increasing industrialization of the
+building crafts. But this is literally superficial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Associated with the notable shift of preference as regards the texture of the skin, so to
+say, of buildings there has been a comparable rise of interest in broken silhouettes, uneven
+skylines, masses that are articulated rather than unified, and expressive exposure of
+individual structural elements, themselves often sculptural rather than mechanistic in
+character. This has affected in varying degree the work of almost all architects from
+the most Corbusian to the most Miesian. Windows, moreover, tend to be fewer and
+smaller, and their shapes are very likely to be vertical rather than horizontal, slots
+instead of ribbons. So also plans now emphasize the particularity of various internal
+functions and over-all organization tends towards additive compilation of contiguous
+spatial units, in some cases equal or modular, in others disparate in both size and shape.
+All this would once have been disapproved by most critics as
+under-studied, not to say amateurish, before Aalto’s mature work
+became a major international influence
+(<a href='#pl173b'>Plates 173<span class='fss'>B</span></a> and <a href='#pl182a'>182<span class='fss'>A</span></a>).
+There is surely some reflection of the painting and
+the sculpture of the past decade, even perhaps of its most advanced
+music, in the apparent intention to suggest freehand improvisation
+and randomness in an art whose works, however their designing may have
+been initiated, are necessarily in the end products of relatively long
+periods of preparatory study and of complex collaborative execution.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet to hazard such statements as these, even though they have long applied to much of
+the work of Aalto and are now true in varying degree of the production of architects as
+different in many basic ways as the Frenchman Guillaume Gillet or the Italian Franco
+Albini, is to be reminded of the prevalence of another kind of interest in more elaborate
+effects of detail—often denigrated as merely decorative—that is being exploited not only
+by such well-established architects as the Americans Edward Stone or Minoru Yamasaki,
+on the one hand, and by the German Egon Eiermann, on the other—otherwise quite
+opposed as a result of their very different training, experience, and personal dispositions—but
+by many others from Latin America to Asia and Africa.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Perhaps it may be said in very simple terms that what is widely recognized as the
+newest architecture has two aspects, one exaggeratedly masculine, the other almost
+daintily feminine. Both are in some cases to be found illustrated, in a curious kind of
+rhythmic alternation, by successive works of the same architect; both contrast with the
+neutral severity of the architecture of the immediately preceding period. Yet both clearly
+have their half-admitted precedents in the varied and even contradictory work over
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_431'>431</span>many decades of Frank Lloyd Wright and that of the Expressionists forty years
+and more ago.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Even if it could be accepted, for the moment, that these two tendencies represent the
+whole story, few would be impartial enough to admit that they are <i>equally</i> characteristic
+of the more serious architectural production of the present. Thanks to a revival of near-Puritanical
+asceticism in some quarters, sharply contrasting with the readiness in others
+to beguile with somewhat saccharine ‘beauty’, the more masculine aspect has been presented
+as superior morally and even as more ‘advanced’; for there are still those ready,
+as in the 1920s and 1930s, to plead near-Hegelian necessities for one or another direction
+in which architecture may be moving, necessities that are often in patent opposition to
+the actual pressures from the aesthetically neutral realm of technology.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the two aspects so far noted do not, in any case, even suggest the full complexity
+of the present situation. A third, not necessarily related to the other two yet also,
+possibly, subsuming both, is more evident to historians than it is to most architects.
+Admitting the danger of pressing analogies with the morphology of earlier periods—the
+Gothic, say, or the Renaissance—there is at least a presumption that what we have
+known as ‘modern architecture’ is (rather prematurely, it must seem) already in a ‘late’
+phase. Recurrent in late phases there have usually been two distinguishable but often
+closely related aspects of academicism: a return towards principles that dominated
+the arts before the stylistic revolution with which the particular cycle began, on
+the one hand, and on the other the reduction to an easily applied system of formal
+elements of the painfully evolved features that were peculiar to the preceding ‘high’
+phase.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But reaction, to give this aspect of the current architectural scene an unnecessarily
+denigratory name, is quite likely in particular instances to be more due to the special
+circumstances of the current building boom than to any hypothetical life-pattern of
+modern architecture. In the first half of the twentieth century economic influences
+were supposed, at least, to favour both technological advance in the building sciences
+and, concommitantly, ‘advanced’ design in the aesthetic sense. Not always, however,
+were the theoretical economies actually realized—or not, at any rate, before considerable
+time had passed—and ‘advanced’ design often proved in practice not only expensive but
+physically uncomfortable. Then other kinds of technological development, by setting
+up even more expensive new standards of amenity, notably in such things as vertical
+transport, glare-control, and air conditioning, were already cancelling out the economies
+that mechanized methods of large-scale production were eventually making real. At the
+same time the inherent practical difficulties of such things as all-glass walls and completely
+open plans were increasingly realized as they were ever more generally and uncritically
+exploited. By the 1960s some of the technical improvements in building advocated
+since the 1920s, notably in the field of partial prefabrication and prefabrication
+of larger and larger components—whole sides of houses and flats, for example—had
+become widely viable, not to speak of new materials and structural methods that made
+certain features relatively easy and inexpensive to provide. Yet total prefabrication of
+dwelling units was remoter from realization—except in mobile units such as caravans—than
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_432'>432</span>a quarter of a century earlier, in part because the public’s willingness to accept
+the results of partial mechanization of house-production seemed actually, in many
+countries, to have diminished.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The major building problems of the post-war world were not and still are not the
+production of individual monuments: opera houses, churches, stadia, and the like, on
+which professional as well as public attention has tended to focus and for which
+drastically new kinds of architectural expression can most readily be invented. What has
+been more significant are the large-scale reconstruction of bombed or blighted cities,
+the rehousing of very considerable segments of the population, and the provision of the
+manufacturing facilities, the offices, and the stores required by greater industrial,
+financial, and commercial activity. Inevitably, in a boom period, the very large volume
+of production over large sectors of the total range of building has led, in such work, to
+a sort of stasis in stylistic development. A vast amount of architectural energy everywhere
+must go into the mere carrying out of unprecedentedly extensive plans the
+major decisions for which were made as many as ten or fifteen years ago. An inertial
+lag is very evident wherever large urban areas, whether cleared twenty years ago by
+bombing or in the last few years by schemes of urban renewal, have been or are being
+rebuilt. Large parts of the world outside North America, moreover, are only now first
+learning how to build very tall structures and hardly yet ready to modify creatively
+what they have just learned to do at all.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The last decade, and particularly the last five years, have seen the production of a
+great part of the urban and suburban settings in which we will probably be living for the
+rest of this century, and doubtless well into the next. Somewhat as the post-Napoleonic
+period carried out at an ever lower level of quality the ambitions and aspirations of the
+revolutionary architects of the later eighteenth century, so in the post-war years—and
+particularly the last five—there has come about the realization of many urbanistic ideals
+that once seemed fantastic or Utopian when they were first proposed some forty
+years ago. Inevitably there has been a diminution of visual interest when certain modes
+of design, first adumbrated in a few unique individual structures or in relatively modest
+housing projects in the 1920s by architects of intense conviction and high inventive
+power, have been applied wholesale, almost as clichés, by countless other men, usually
+much less able and less dedicated, throughout the whole world. Moreover, serious
+errors in the original ideals, perhaps only recognizable as those ideals came to large-scale
+actuality, have been discovered and denounced. To some critics certain earlier urban
+conditions, against whose vices those ideals were first invoked as correctives, have
+come to seem, by nostalgia, preferable in various human ways to the ‘brave new
+world’ of the 1920s which has, to such a surprising extent, become the real world of
+the 1960s.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>But the reaction against the International Style, thus to describe in over-simplified
+form what seems to be the consensus of many of the changes of attitude in the last years,
+is by no means as yet a counter-revolution. If the canons of the permissible and the
+desirable have been broadened by current theory and practice towards various aspects of
+what may still be called the traditional—including, as by now also traditional, much
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_433'>433</span>that was common to various pre- or extra-international Style aspects of earlier modern
+architecture—certain of the presuppositions of the most advanced architects of the 1920s
+still seem, though usually in revised form, quite as forward-looking as ever. For the
+rather limited aspects of function recognized by the Functionalists (if there ever were
+architects truly meriting that name), for example, far more sophisticated conceptions of
+function have come to be accepted by most architects whose fields of work are not
+industrial or commercial.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Yet some engineers—the Italian Nervi, whose practice has become international in
+scope, the late Spaniard Torroja, the Mexican Candela, the Danish Arup, and the
+American Fuller, to mention but a few of the best known—have today reputations
+throughout the architectural profession, and even with the public, which neither the
+Swiss Maillart nor the lately deceased Frenchman Freyssinet had in their heyday half a
+century ago. None the less architecture is not more largely in the hands of the engineers
+today than it was earlier despite many prognoses, both pessimistic and optimistic, that
+the engineers are, or should be, taking over. Moreover the architectural quality, as distinguished
+from the technical ingenuity, of the works of the great engineers is often as
+notable as is that of those buildings by certain architects in which engineering principles
+are dominant such as Eero Saarinen’s Chantilly airport (Plate <a href='#pl190b'>190<span class='fss'>B</span></a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>These paragraphs have necessarily been of the most general nature and critical rather
+than historical. Properly they should be illustrated by a considerable body of carefully
+described photographs, plans, and sections such as fortunately can be found in several
+current books covering either the whole world, or single countries, individual architects,
+or particular types of building. Some of the most useful of those that
+had appeared by the summer of 1962 will be found among the additions
+to the Bibliography. The few plates that it has been possible to add
+in this new edition cannot hope to present a conspectus of the various
+aspects of the current situation that have been at least mentioned in
+this Epilogue. But the plates of the Seagram Building
+(Plate <a href='#pl192'>192</a>) and the Guggenheim Museum
+(Plate <a href='#pl188a'>188<span class='fss'>A</span></a> and <a href='#pl188b'><span class='fss'>B</span></a>) may serve as a reminder that
+some of the dichotomies of the third quarter of this century in
+architecture could, in the late 1950s, be almost as well illustrated
+in the work of long-recognized masters of architecture as in that of
+men a generation or more younger. The illustrations of the work of
+Aalto, work actually of an earlier date, show clearly whence one of
+the winds of influence has for some time been blowing; while the plate
+of Japanese buildings (Plate <a href='#pl187a'>187</a>) in contrast to the Thyssen
+Haus (Plate <a href='#pl191'>191</a>), illustrate the international Corbusian and
+the international Miesian of these last years at levels that are
+notably high, both in the size and prominence of the structures and,
+what is more important, in intrinsic quality.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Throughout its length this book has been less concerned with urbanism,
+with the architectural macrocosm, than with individual buildings; nor,
+for that matter, can photographs give the feeling of the newly rebuilt
+central and peripheral areas of our cities even as well as for the
+nineteenth century. The character of the Ludwigstrasse
+(Plate <a href='#pl010b'>10<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) or the Place de l’Opéra
+(Plate <a href='#pl070c'>70<span class='fss'>C</span></a>) can be fairly well apprehended from photographs;
+Park Avenue above the Grand Central Station, as rebuilt beginning with
+Lever House (Plate <a href='#pl189'>189</a>) in the last decade, or the cities, as
+distinguished from the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_434'>434</span>individual public monuments, of Chandigarh and Brasilia—or even Cumbernauld in
+Scotland or Vållingby in Sweden—cannot.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Despite all the confusion of architectural doctrine in the early 1960s, despite the vast
+areas of undistinguished and even manifestly bad building, these last years have seen
+their share of new masterworks, or at least of structures which in our present myopic
+view have already been accepted as such. Yet, on the negative side, several of the older
+leaders have left us: Wright, Freyssinet, Torroja, Skidmore, Schwarz, and, alas, a few
+rather younger men as well: Yorke in England, for example, and in America Eero
+Saarinen.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Saarinen’s work, since the General Motors Technical Institute completed in 1955 and
+illustrated here (Figure <a href='#i419'>55</a>; <a href='#pl168b'>Plate 168<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) which was so very Miesian, came by the late 1950s
+to epitomize the variety, not to say the incoherence, of the ambitions of many architects
+throughout the world in those years. Happily, after a mature career which lasted only
+eleven years compared to his father Eliel’s fifty, his contribution to American, indeed to
+world, architecture, culminated in two works, his colleges at Yale
+(Plate <a href='#pl185b'>185<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) and his
+airport outside Washington
+(Plate <a href='#pl190b'>190<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) that in their differing, even apparently opposed,
+ways express many of the aspirations of our day at as high a level, perhaps, as earlier
+modern architecture ever reached except in the greatest works of Wright, Le Corbusier,
+and Mies. But what make Eero Saarinen in retrospect the typical architect of the late
+fifties and early sixties are, on the one hand, his Miesian beginnings, in sharp reaction to
+his father’s half-traditional romanticism, and on the other the fact that his <i>oeuvre</i> included
+many works which in their wilfulness and even, one may say, their frivolity
+were well below the median standards of serious achievement in those years. Thus he
+stood, to an extent not always realized in his brief lifetime when the kaleidoscopic
+diversity of his buildings dazzled those it did not shock, at the centre of his age. His remarkably
+successful career, remarkable even in a period—so unlike several of the earlier
+decades of this century—when few architects of quality, even the most ascetic or most
+fanciful, were wholly without employment, made plain one of the central facts about
+these last few years: that the style or movement we call ‘modern architecture’ had in
+many, perhaps in most, countries achieved such total acceptance that clients were
+willing, almost too willing, to trust their architects in whatever novel direction they
+might wish to move, in terms of structure, of materials, and of either asceticism or
+decorative elaboration, not to speak of philosophical content.</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Remembering the extraordinary new developments in architecture that were under
+way in the 1760s two hundred years ago in the period with which the Introduction
+has dealt, the historian can only end by wondering whether in the welter of innovation
+of the last few years there lie somewhere the particular seeds from which the
+architecture of the later twentieth and twenty-first centuries will grow; whether, to use
+another dubious historical analogy, the stylistic development of this quarter of our
+century corresponds to the Mannerism of the central decades of the sixteenth century in
+Italy. May we look forward, towards 2000 perhaps, to some such immanent movement,
+at once a synthesis of many preceding technical and stylistic innovations and
+a return to some at least of the principles of the preceding ‘high’ phase, yet above all a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_435'>435</span>vital new creation with a life-expectancy of a hundred years and more, as was the
+Baroque around 1600? From the latest Baroque Western European architecture turned
+away two centuries ago; to the Baroque, in any revivalistic sense, it is hardly likely to
+return. Yet after the ever-increasing divergencies, which have been as characteristic of
+the mid century as convergence was of twentieth-century architecture down to the
+1930s, will we—perhaps before another decade has passed—begin to sense the beginnings
+of a new synthesis?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>Today, the problem must be posed in world terms. So far Eastern Europe, Asia, and
+Africa have, on the whole, been learners and disciples of the West. Will the countries of
+Eastern Europe and the new countries of Asia and Africa soon be making contributions
+towards a new world-style, such as in the last few decades first the North Americans,
+then the Latin Americans, and now the Japanese have made? Will the history of
+Western European architecture continue to be the principal story (which thanks to
+political conditions has been largely true up to the present) or will the Western European
+tradition, to which this volume has been almost completely devoted, become in the
+succeeding period somewhat peripheral and even alien to a basically changed situation
+in which under-developed countries will increasingly, as they come of age, tend to
+throw off cultural tutelage as they have mostly already thrown off political tutelage?</p>
+
+<p class='c010'>The Brazilians could design and build in these last years Brasilia by themselves as well,
+perhaps better than Europeans or North Americans—above all, certainly, the architects
+of their own Portuguese homeland—could have built it for them. The Indians, on the
+other hand, have employed Le Corbusier and other Europeans, and the Iraqis have
+assigned the designing and building of their University to an American firm headed by
+an architect of German origin. The Japanese, who are in this respect already at the forefront,
+had employed Wright half a century ago for the Imperial Hotel; today it may perhaps
+be said that their own best work is superior to the Museum of Modern Art in Tokyo
+whose designs they obtained from Le Corbusier. Yet current Japanese architecture is not
+and is not intended to be—witness the foreign-language editions of two of their
+architectural periodicals—outside the tradition of Western European architecture;
+indeed, it represents the latest notable contribution to that architecture with which this
+book has hitherto dealt. It is appropriate, therefore, that the roster of plates in this book,
+which began with buildings conceived—in effect at least—in Rome and built in France,
+in England, and even in North America, should end with buildings built in Asia
+following principles first adumbrated by a Swiss in France. The later eighteenth century
+turned inward in architecture towards the Rome and the Greece that were at the
+fountain-head of the Western European tradition; today we should perhaps be turning
+outward towards the new non-European world which is still in the mid twentieth
+century, in architecture as in so much else, the child of Europe. Symbolically, at least,
+the best hope of a new architectural synthesis in the decades to come may lie in this
+fact; so that later histories of twentieth-century architecture will perhaps give as much
+attention and space to India or to some of the new African states as little Holland or vast
+North America have received in this account of the architecture of the last two hundred
+years.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+
+<div class='nf-center-c0'>
+<div class='nf-center c001'>
+    <div><span class='c002'>NOTES AND BIBLIOGRAPHY</span></div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c001' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_439'>439</span>
+  <h2 id='notes' class='c013'>NOTES</h2>
+</div>
+<h3 id='intro-n' class='c030'>INTRODUCTION - Notes</h3>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c005' id='f1'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r1'>1</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Sigfried Giedion introduced this term in his
+<i>Spätbarocker und romantischer Klassizismus</i> in 1922
+and provided an extended discussion of the concept.
+Fiske Kimball first used the term in English in
+his article ‘Romantic Classicism in Architecture’,
+<i>Gazette des Beaux-Arts</i>, <span class='fss'>XXV</span> (1944), 95-112.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r2'>2</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hautecœur, L., <i>Rome et la renaissance de
+l’antiquité à la fin du XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle</i>, Paris, 1912. However,
+the deeper background of theory was French,
+not Roman. Unhappily the brevity with which
+this whole matter must be treated here, where it is
+merely prefatory to an account of nineteenth- and
+twentieth-century architecture, makes it impossible
+to discuss such French theorists of the early eighteenth
+century as J.-F. Félibien (1656-1733), A.-L.
+Cordemoy, and A.-F. Frézier (1682-1773); even
+Laugier appears somewhat out of context, since he
+was active not in Rome but in France. Hautecœur
+in <i>Histoire de l’architecture classique</i>, vols <span class='fss'>III</span> and <span class='fss'>IV</span>,
+and Kaufmann in <i>Architecture in the Age of Reason</i>—particularly
+in Chapter XI—elaborate this background
+of theory in France centring round the
+<i>Cours d’architecture ...</i>, Paris, 1770-7, of J.-F.
+Blondel (1705-74).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f3'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r3'>3</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Harris, J., ‘Robert Mylne at the Academy
+of St Luke’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXX</span> (1951),
+341-52.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f4'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r4'>4</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Monographs on major architects will be found
+listed alphabetically by architect in the Bibliography
+and are not referenced from the text.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f5'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r5'>5</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The changing attitudes towards the Greek
+Doric order provide a measure of the rise of Romantic
+Classicism. It is noteworthy that Soufflot
+was one of the first to make drawings of the very
+archaic Doric of Paestum, but it never occurred to
+him to emulate it in his own work. See Pevsner,
+N., and Lang, S., ‘Apollo or Baboon’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIV</span> (1948), 271-9.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f6'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r6'>6</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Winckelmann’s major work is the <i>Geschichte
+der Kunst des Altertums</i>, 2 vols, Dresden, 1764.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f7'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r7'>7</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Interest in Egyptian forms can be traced all the
+way back through the Baroque period to the early
+Renaissance, but it undoubtedly increased after
+1750 and lasted well into the next century. See
+Pevsner, N., and Lang, S., ‘The Egyptian Revival’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIX</span> (1956), 242-54. For a
+remarkable, rather late (1838-41) example of an
+‘Egyptian’ mill, see Bonser, K. J., ‘Marshall’s Mill,
+Holbeck, Leeds’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVII</span>
+(1960), 280-2. In the second quarter of the nineteenth
+century Egyptian forms were most likely to
+be used, especially in America, for prisons and
+cemetery accessories.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f8'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r8'>8</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Adam studied, with the assistance of the
+French <i>pensionnaire</i> C.-L. Clérisseau (1722-1820),
+the Late Roman ruins of Diocletian’s Palace at
+Spalatro in 1757, and began his brilliant career in
+London two years later with the Admiralty Screen
+in Whitehall. See Adam, R., <i>Ruins of the Palace of
+the Emperor Diocletian at Spalatro</i>, London, 1764,
+and Fleming, J., <i>Robert Adam and his Circle</i>, London,
+1962.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f9'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r9'>9</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The present dome is a relatively late emendation;
+the original crowning feature was much less
+severe. Soufflot sent a pupil named Roche to London
+to make measured drawings of St Paul’s in
+1776, the year before he prepared this design.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>In general, the Panthéon appears much more
+Romantic Classical today than what Soufflot actually
+built. The towers which once rose over the corners
+of the portico—in any case disapproved by Soufflot—were
+removed by Antoine Quatremère de Quincy
+(1755-1849) in 1791, and he also filled up the windows
+that originally cut into the plain wall surfaces.
+The murals are all of the nineteenth century.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f10'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r10'>10</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Actually many of the spans are much too great
+to be covered by single stones and the entablatures
+are really flat arches. There is also considerable use
+of iron.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f11'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r11'>11</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Petzet, M., <i>Soufflot’s Sainte Geneviève und
+der französische Kirchenbau des 18. Jahrhunderts</i>,
+Berlin, 1961.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f12'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r12'>12</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rosenau, H., ‘George Dance the Younger’,
+<i>Journal of the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>,
+<span class='fss'>LIV</span> (1947), 502-7. Even more significant of
+developing Romantic Classical taste at this point
+was the character of the designs in Peyre, M.-J.,
+<i>Livre sur l’architecture</i>, Paris, 1765.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_440'>440</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f13'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r13'>13</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rosenau, H. (ed.), <i>Boullée’s Treatise on
+Architecture</i>, London, 1953; and Boullée, E.-L.,
+<i>Mémoire sur ... la Bibliothèque du Roi ...</i>, [Paris]
+1785.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f14'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r14'>14</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This more classical arrangement was first
+proposed in the 1760s by Pierre Patte (1723-1814),
+a theorist in the Blondel tradition, on the analogy
+of Palladio’s theatre in Vicenza.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f15'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r15'>15</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is not true, however, of much of his
+executed work at Arc-et-Senans which has heavily
+plastic roofs of various shapes.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f16'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r16'>16</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>So did Friedrich Gilly in Germany and—according
+to Kaufmann—Valadier in Italy.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch01n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 1 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f17'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r17'>17</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Steel, H. R., and Yerbury, F. R., <i>The Old
+Bank of England</i>, London, 1930, for photographic
+coverage of this monument of which the interiors
+were largely destroyed in the 1920s, and even the
+exterior considerably—and unnecessarily—modified
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f18'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r18'>18</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Britton, J., <i>Illustrations of Fonthill Abbey</i>,
+London, 1823; Rutter, J., <i>An Illustrated History and
+Description of Fonthill Abbey</i>, Shaftesbury, 1823;
+and Storer, J., <i>A Description of Fonthill Abbey</i>, Wiltshire,
+London, 1812. The most extensive modern
+account of the building of Fonthill Abbey is given
+by Brockman, H. A. N., <i>The Caliph of Fonthill</i>,
+London [1956].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f19'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r19'>19</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘The Genesis of the Picturesque’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCVI</span> (1944), 139-46,
+and Pevsner, N., ‘Richard Payne Knight’, <i>Art
+Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXI</span> (1949), 293-320.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f20'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r20'>20</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hussey in <i>The Picturesque</i> lists many of these
+books and gives good examples of their illustrations.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f21'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r21'>21</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>First, that is, in this period. The columnar
+Monument in the City of London by Robert Hooke,
+commemorating the Great Fire, dates from the
+1670s.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f22'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r22'>22</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Telford, T., <i>An Account of the Improvements
+of the Port of London</i>, London, 1801. Splendid
+later examples also survive in Liverpool, built by
+the Corporation engineer Jesse Hartley (1780-1860);
+see Waldron, J., ‘Measured Drawings of the
+Albert Dock Warehouses in Liverpool’, <i>Architectural
+History</i>, <span class='fss'>IV</span> (1961), 103-16.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f23'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r23'>23</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kimball, F., <i>Thomas Jefferson and the First
+Monument of the Classic Revival in America</i>, Harrisburg,
+1915.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f24'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r24'>24</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kimball, F., ‘The Genesis of the White
+House’, <i>Century Magazine</i>, February 1918.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f25'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r25'>25</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Brown, G., <i>History of the United States
+Capitol</i>, 2 vols, Washington, 1900-3.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f26'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r26'>26</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kimball, F., ‘Origin of the Plan of
+Washington, D.C.’, <i>Architectural Review</i> (New
+York), <span class='fss'>VII</span> (1918), 41-5; and Kite, E., <i>L’Enfant and
+Washington</i>, Baltimore, 1929.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f27'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r27'>27</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Davison, C. V., ‘Maximilien and Eliza
+Godefroy’, ‘Maximilien Godefroy’, <i>Maryland
+Historical Magazine</i>, March, September 1934.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f28'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r28'>28</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Alexander, R. L., ‘The Public Memorial
+and Godefroy’s Battle Monument’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XVII</span> (1958), 19-24.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f29'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r29'>29</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hislop, C., and Larrabee, H. A., ‘Joseph-Jacques
+Ramée and the Building of North and South
+College’, <i>Union College Alumni Monthly</i>, February
+1938.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f30'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r30'>30</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The idea probably originated with Soufflot,
+who had earlier proposed a similar plan for the
+cathedral of Rennes.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f31'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r31'>31</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Blondel, J.-F., <i>Plan, coupe, et élévations du
+nouveau marché Saint Germain</i>, Paris, 1816, and
+Délespine, P.-J., <i>Marché des Blancs Manteaux</i>, Paris,
+1827.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f32'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r32'>32</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Chierici, G., <i>La Reggia di Caserta</i>, Rome,
+1937; and Mongiello, G., <i>La Reggia di Caserta</i>,
+Caserta, 1954.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f33'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r33'>33</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hautecœur, L., <i>L’Architecture classique à
+Saint Pétersbourg à la fin du XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle</i>, Paris, 1912.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f34'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r34'>34</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Loukomski, G., <i>Charles Cameron</i>,
+London, 1943.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f35'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r35'>35</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Thomon, T. de, <i>Recueil des principaux
+monuments construits à Saint Pétersbourg</i>, Petersburg,
+1806; repeated in his <i>Traité de peinture</i>, Paris, 1809;
+and Loukomski, G., ‘Thomas de Thomon’, <i>Apollo</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XLII</span> (1945), 297 ff.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f36'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r36'>36</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Lancere, N., ‘Adrien Zakharov and the
+Admiralty at Petersburg’ (in Russian), <i>Starye Gody</i>,
+(1911), 3-64.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f37'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r37'>37</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Kaufmann, who illustrates the Belanger project
+in <i>Architecture in the Age of Reason</i>, figure 169,
+dates it around 1808 on the ground that slaughterhouses
+first began to be built in Paris in that year.
+It is extremely unlikely, of course, that Hansen ever
+saw this project; but the similarity of his tower to
+Belanger’s indicates how closely he was in tune
+with his French contemporaries. In any case similar
+towers are to be found in the projects published by
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_441'>441</span>Durand in his <i>Précis</i> of 1802-5, which Hansen must
+have known (see Chapter <a href='#ch02'>2</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch02n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 2 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f38'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r38'>38</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Allais and others, <i>Projets d’architecture ... qui
+ont mérités les grands prix</i>, Paris, 1806, and at different
+dates subsequently with varying authors and
+titles. For a collection of earlier projects, see
+Rosenau, H., ‘The Engravings of the Grand Prix of
+the French Academy of Architecture’, <i>Architectural
+History</i>, <span class='fss'>III</span> (1960), 17-180, since the original publication
+is very rare.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f39'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r39'>39</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Durand was already well known as the compiler
+of the <i>Recueil et parallèle des édifices en tout
+genre, anciens et modernes</i>, Paris, 1800, a curious work
+in which the drawings of important buildings of all
+periods are freely modified to bring them into conformity
+with the author’s modular theories of proportion.
+This is conventionally known as ‘Le grand
+Durand’.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f40'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r40'>40</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Rondelet, J. B., <i>Traité théorique et pratique de
+l’art de bâtir</i>, 4 vols, Paris, 1802-17. There were
+several later editions. From 1806 Rondelet taught
+at the École Spéciale d’Architecture, which was
+shortly afterwards merged with the École Polytechnique.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f41'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r41'>41</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>French designs of this period for houses were
+provided in profusion in the publications of J. C.
+Krafft. See Krafft, J. C., and Ransonette, N., <i>Plans,
+coupes, élévations des plus belles maisons et des hôtels
+construits à Paris et dans les environs</i>, Paris [<i>c.</i> 1802];
+reprint, Paris, 1909; and Krafft, J. C., <i>Recueil
+d’architecture civile</i>, Paris, 1812; later ed., 1829.
+Krafft, J. C., and Thiollet, F., <i>Choix des plus jolies
+maisons de Paris et de ses environs, édifices et monuments
+publics</i>, Paris, 1849, may also be mentioned
+here although very much later. It is significant of
+the international availability of the earliest work
+listed here that it was provided with texts in
+French, English, and German.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f42'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r42'>42</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Klenze, L. von, <i>Walhalla in artistischer und
+technischer Beziehung</i>, Munich, 1842.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f43'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r43'>43</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., <i>Early Museum Architecture</i>,
+Hartford, 1934.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f44'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r44'>44</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Grandjean de Montigny, A.-H.-V., and Famin,
+A.-P.-Ste-M., <i>Architecture toscane</i>, Paris, 1815.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f45'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r45'>45</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Klenze, L. von, <i>Anweisung der Architektur
+des christlichen Kultus</i>, Munich, 1834.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f46'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r46'>46</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Möllinger, K., <i>Elemente des Rundbogenstiles</i>,
+2nd ed., Munich, 1848. It is convenient to retain
+the German term for this very Germanic
+round-arched style, even though it flourished in
+several countries besides Germany (see below in
+this chapter for Scandinavia, and Chapter <a href='#ch05'>5</a> for
+America).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f47'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r47'>47</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hübsch, H., <i>Die altchristlichen Kirchen
+nach den Baudenkmalen und älteren Beschreibungen</i>,
+2 vols, Karlsruhe, 1862-3.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f48'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r48'>48</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Durand, <i>Précis</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>, plate 13.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f49'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r49'>49</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Häberlin, C. L., <i>Sanssouci, Potsdam und
+Umgebung</i>, Berlin and Potsdam, 1855; Poensgen,
+G., <i>Die Bauten Friedrich Wilhelms IV in Potsdam</i>,
+Potsdam, 1930; Huth, H., <i>Der Park von Sanssouci</i>,
+Berlin, 1929; Kania, H., <i>Potsdamer Baukunst</i>, Berlin,
+1926; <i>Potsdam. Staats- und Bürgerbauten</i>, Berlin,
+1939; and Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘Romantic Architecture
+of Potsdam’, <i>International Studio</i>, 99 (1931),
+46-9.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f50'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r50'>50</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Sievers, J., <i>Das Palais des Prinzen Karl von
+Preussen</i>, Berlin, 1928.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f51'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r51'>51</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Notably Séheult, F.-L., <i>Recueil d’architecture
+dessiné et mesuré en Italie ... dans 1791-93</i>, Paris,
+1821.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f52'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r52'>52</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Persius, L., <i>Architektonische Entwürfe für
+den Umbau vorhandener Gebäude</i>, Potsdam, 1849;
+<i>Architektonische Ausführungen</i>, Berlin [1860?]; and
+Fleetwood Hesketh, R. and P., ‘Ludwig Persius of
+Potsdam’, <i>Architects Journal</i>, <span class='fss'>LXVIII</span> (1928), 77-87,
+113-20.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f53'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r53'>53</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Ettlinger, L., ‘A German Architect’s Visit to
+England in 1826’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCVII</span>
+(1945), 131-4.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f54'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r54'>54</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Poensgen, G., <i>Schloss Babelsberg</i>, Berlin,
+1929.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f55'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r55'>55</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Frölich, M., and Sperlich, H. G., <i>Georg
+Moller, Baumeister der Romantik</i>, Darmstadt, 1959.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f56'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r56'>56</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Semper, G., <i>Das königliche Hoftheater zu
+Dresden</i>, Brunswick, 1849.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f57'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r57'>57</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Gärtner’s design for the Palace owes a good
+deal to a project prepared by Klenze for a palace on
+the Kerameikos hill which was never begun. Fortunately
+Schinkel’s more ambitious project for a
+palace on the Akropolis was also not carried out.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>The digging away of the ground, which originally
+sloped up to the Palace above the square, and
+the introduction in the 1930s of the present retaining
+wall with the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
+have diminished somewhat the effectiveness of the
+front of the Palace.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_442'>442</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f58'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r58'>58</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Amodeo, A., ‘La Giovinezza di Pietro
+Nobile’, ‘La Maturità di Pietro Nobile’, <i>L’Architettura</i>,
+<span class='fss'>I</span> (1955), 49-52; 378-84.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f59'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r59'>59</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Thorvaldsens Museum</i>, Copenhagen, 1953.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f60'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r60'>60</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hekker, H. C., ‘De Nederlandse Bouwkunst
+in het Begin van de Negentiende Eeuw’,
+<i>Bulletin van de Kon. Ned. Oudh. Bond</i>, <span class='fss'>IV</span> (1951), 1-28.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch03n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 3 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f61'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r61'>61</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The idea for the two-towered façade is probably
+derived from a project of 1809 by Lebas, but
+could also come from Gisors’s Saint-Vincent in
+Mâcon of 1810.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f62'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r62'>62</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Three pieces only of the enamelled lava decoration
+were put in place; owing to the ensuing
+outcry they were soon removed.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f63'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r63'>63</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hittorff and other architects of his generation
+such as Henri Labrouste and Duban, who supported
+his proposal to revive the external polychromy
+they had noted on the Classical temples of Sicily,
+were closer in fact to Ingres than to Delacroix.
+Ingres in 1828 backed Labrouste’s controversial
+rendering of the Paestum temples showing external
+colour. Duban, one of the first to introduce polychrome
+decoration—the plaques of enamelled lava
+used in the entrance courtyard of the École des
+Beaux-Arts are his—was a close friend and on occasion
+a collaborator of Ingres. Hittorff collected
+paintings by Ingres and assisted him with the architectural
+backgrounds of his pictures, though that in
+the ‘Stratonice’, which gives perhaps the best idea
+of the sort of polychromy intended by these architects,
+was supplied by Victor Baltard.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f64'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r64'>64</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Actually the original paintwork on the beams
+and panels of the vestibules of the Gare du Nord is
+still there, but so dulled and begrimed that one
+hardly notices it. To the twentieth century the remarkable
+roof of Hittorff’s Rotonde des Panoramas
+in the Champs Élysées of 1836 would be, if extant,
+of more interest, since it was suspended from iron
+cables.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f65'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r65'>65</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>As has been noted in Chapter 2, both de
+Chateauneuf and Meuron studied with Leclerc.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f66'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r66'>66</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The history of this project is very complicated.
+As might be surmised from its character, a design
+was at one point prepared by Gilbert, the principal
+Louis Philippe architect for this sort of work.
+The actual construction of the Hôtel Dieu by Diet
+followed only after a decade of changes of plan, yet
+the executed work probably incorporates something
+of Gilbert’s design; in any case, what was
+built is still wholly in the spirit of Gilbert’s Louis
+Philippe work and not at all in that of the Second
+Empire (see Chapter <a href='#ch08'>8</a>). Diet was Gilbert’s son-in-law.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f67'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r67'>67</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Begun by John Harvey, continued by Thomas
+Hardwick, and completed by Sir Robert Smirke.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f68'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r68'>68</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Venditti, A., <i>Architettura neoclassica a
+Napoli</i>, Naples, 1961.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f69'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r69'>69</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Missirini, M., <i>Del Tempio eretto in Possagno
+da Antonio Canova</i>, Venice, 1833. Some give credit
+to Selva, but not Bassi his biographer. See also
+Meeks, C. L. V., ‘Pantheon Paradigm’, <i>Journal of
+the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960),
+135-44.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f70'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r70'>70</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Falconetti, A., <i>Il Caffè Pedrocchi, dagherrotipo
+artistico descrittivo</i>, Padua, 1847; and Cimegotto,
+C., and others, [Centenary volume on the Caffè
+Pedrocchi], Padua, 1931.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f71'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r71'>71</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Montferrand, A.-R. de, <i>L’Église cathédrale
+de Saint-Isaac, description architecturale, pittoresque, et
+historique</i>, Saint-Pétersbourg, 1845.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch04n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 4 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f72'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r72'>72</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Many additions and changes in the house were
+made from 1816 on; a top storey and a Picture
+Room of 1825-6 behind No. 14 were the most consequential.
+See Soane, J., <i>Description of the House
+and Museum on the North Side of Lincoln’s Inn
+Fields</i>, London, 1832; enl. ed., 1835-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f73'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r73'>73</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f17' class='c025'><sup>[17]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch01n'>1</a>. The new interiors were
+built in 1818; the front and side façades were rebuilt
+in 1823.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f74'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r74'>74</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>St Pancras is really based on Gibbs’s St
+Martin’s-in-the-Fields as regards the exterior; but
+all the features have, so to say, been translated into
+the Greek of the Erechtheum. See Inwood, W. and
+H. W., <i>St Pancras New Church. Specifications ...</i>,
+London, 1819; and Inwood, H. W., The <i>Erechtheion
+at Athens</i>, London, 1827.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f75'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r75'>75</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Smith, H. C., <i>Buckingham Palace</i>, London,
+1931.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>The palatial character of Cumberland Terrace is
+due to the fact that it faced the site of an intended
+summer palace in the Park planned for George IV
+but never even begun.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f76'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r76'>76</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘British Museum 1753-1953’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIII</span> (1953), 179-82.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f77'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r77'>77</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rolt, L. T. C., <i>George and Robert Stephenson</i>,
+London, 1960.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_443'>443</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f78'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r78'>78</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Fort, M., ‘Francis Goodwin, 1784-1835’,
+<i>Architectural History</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1958), 61-72.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f79'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r79'>79</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Whiffen, M., <i>The Architecture of Sir Charles
+Barry in Manchester and Neighbourhood</i>, Manchester,
+1950.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f80'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r80'>80</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Dobson, J. J., <i>Memoir of John Dobson</i>,
+London, 1885.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f81'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r81'>81</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In one sense the Baths of Caracalla provided
+Elmes’s model, since the size of the great interior
+there was intentionally exceeded here; in another
+sense, this was a grandiose development of Wren’s
+relatively modest interior of St James’s, Piccadilly.
+Just as Gibbs was translated into Greek by the Inwoods
+at St Pancras’, Wren was translated into
+Latin here, but with less precision of vocabulary.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f82'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r82'>82</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Parker, C., <i>Villa Rustica</i>, 3 vols, London,
+1832, 1833, 1841; 2nd ed., London, 1848.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch05n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 5 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f83'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r83'>83</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>When railway stations were needed in Brazil
+after the mid century they were actually imported,
+in prefabricated iron, from England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f84'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r84'>84</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Haviland, J. <i>A Description of Haviland’s
+Design for the New Penitentiary ...</i>, Philadelphia,
+1824; Anon., <i>A Description of the Eastern Penitentiary ...</i>,
+Philadelphia, 1830; Crawford, W., <i>Report
+on the Penitentiaries of the United States</i>, London,
+1834; Demetz, F.-A., and Blouet, A.-G., <i>Rapport
+sur les penitenciers des États Unis</i>, Paris, 1837; and
+Markus, T. A., ‘Pattern of the Law; Bentham’s
+Panopticon Scheme’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVI</span>
+(1954), 251-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f85'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r85'>85</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Haviland, J., <i>The Builder’s Assistant</i>, 3 vols,
+Philadelphia, 1818-21—the first to include plates
+of the Greek orders; 2nd ed., Philadelphia, 1830;
+Benjamin, A., <i>The American Builder’s Companion</i>,
+Boston, 1827 (the first edition is of 1806, but Greek
+orders were not included until this latest edition);
+<i>The Practical House Carpenter</i>, Boston, 1830, with
+later editions to 1857; <i>Practice of Architecture</i>, New
+York, 1833, with later editions to 1851; <i>Elements
+of Architecture</i>, Boston, 1843, 2nd ed., 1849; <i>The
+Builder’s Guide</i>, Boston, 1839, with later editions
+to the Civil War; Lafever, M., <i>The Young Builder’s
+General Instructor</i>, Newark, 1829; <i>The Modern
+Builder’s Guide</i>, New York, 1833, with later editions
+to 1855; <i>The Beauties of Modern Architecture</i>, New
+York, 1835, with later editions to 1855; <i>The Architectural
+Instructor</i>, New York, 1856; Shaw, E., <i>Civil
+Architecture</i>, Boston, 1830, with later editions to
+1855; and Hills, C., <i>The Builder’s Guide</i>, Hartford,
+1834, with later editions to 1847.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f86'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r86'>86</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Willard, S., <i>Plans and Sections of the Obelisk
+on Bunker’s Hill</i>, Boston, 1843.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f87'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r87'>87</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Mills, R., <i>The American Pharos; or, Lighthouse
+Guide</i>, Washington, 1832; and <i>Waterworks
+for the Metropolitan City of Washington</i>, Washington,
+1853.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f88'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r88'>88</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Thayer, R., History, <i>Organization and
+Functions of the Office of the Supervising Architect of
+the Treasury Department</i>, Washington, 1886; and
+Strobridge, T. R., ‘Archives of the Supervising
+Architect—Treasury Department’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1961), 198-9.
+See also Overby, O., ‘Ammi B. Young in the
+Connecticut Valley’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 119-23.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f89'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r89'>89</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See O’Neal, W. B., Jefferson’s <i>Buildings at the
+University of Virginia</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span>, Charlottesville, 1960. Like
+the hill-top siting of Monticello, Jefferson’s own
+nearby house—begun before the American Revolution
+and finally completed only in 1808—this
+provision of an open end towards the view illustrates
+his active response to the ideals of the Picturesque.
+For Monticello, moreover, drawings of
+Gothick garden fabricks exist. The fact that McKim,
+Mead &amp; White blocked the view at the bottom of
+Jefferson’s layout with a new building in the twentieth
+century is curious evidence of the lack of
+understanding of the essential qualities of the architecture
+and planning of this period on the part of
+even the most sophisticated ‘traditional’ architects—men
+who professed the greatest admiration for
+the work of such predecessors as Jefferson and yet
+proceeded to destroy its essence whenever the opportunity
+arose!</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f90'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r90'>90</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>From the time of Latrobe’s Bank of 1798
+the Greek temple paradigm for public buildings
+characteristically and quite inconsistently included
+vaulted interiors for protection against fire.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f91'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r91'>91</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In Nicholson, Peter, <i>The Carpenter’s Guide</i>,
+London, 1849. See also Walter, T. U., <i>Report(s) of
+the Architect of the Girard College ...</i>
+[Philadelphia, 1834-50].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f92'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r92'>92</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Once more, as with Latrobe and Mills, the importance
+of Strickland’s work as an engineer should
+at least be noted. The principal publications of the
+period in this domain are his <i>Reports on the Canals,
+Railways, Roads and other Subjects</i>, Philadelphia,
+1826, and his <i>Reports, Specifications and Estimates of
+Public Works in the United States</i>, London, 1841.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_444'>444</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f93'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r93'>93</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The history of the building is so complex
+that it is difficult to know to whom the credit
+should be assigned for its distinguished design. The
+competition held in 1838 was won by Walter,
+who actually laid the foundations in 1839-40; but
+the executed design certainly owes more to the
+competition project of the painter Thomas Cole
+(1801-48). See Cummings, A. L., ‘The Ohio State
+Capitol Competition’, <i>Journal of the Society of
+Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XII</span> (1953), 15-18. Modifications
+of the scheme initiated in 1839-40 were made
+with Walter’s assistance in 1844, and building was
+resumed in 1848 under the direction of William
+Russell West of Cincinnati. On his resignation in
+1854 Nathan B. Kelly (1808-71) of Columbus succeeded,
+and the work was finally brought to a
+finish by Isaiah Rogers in 1858-61.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f94'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r94'>94</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Wheildon, W. W., <i>Memoir of Solomon
+Willard</i>, Boston, 1865.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f95'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r95'>95</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Greenough is better known today as the
+‘herald of functionalism’ than as a sculptor. See
+Wynne, N., and Newhall B., ‘Horatio Greenough:
+Herald of Functionalism’, <i>Magazine of Art</i>, <span class='fss'>XXII</span>
+(1939), 12-15. For his theories, see Greenough, H.,
+<i>Aesthetics at Washington</i>, Washington, 1851;
+<i>Travels, Observations, and Experience of a Yankee
+Stone-cutter</i>, New York, 1852; and <i>Form and Function:
+Remarks on Art</i> (H. A. Small, ed.), Berkeley
+and Los Angeles, 1947.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f96'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r96'>96</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>There are measured drawings of these commercial
+buildings in Hitchcock, H.-R., <i>Guide to
+Boston Architecture</i>, New York, 1954.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f97'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r97'>97</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The most thorough study of American industrial
+building of this period, including the housing
+of operatives, is Coolidge, J. P., <i>Mill and Mansion</i>,
+New York, 1942, which deals with Lowell, Mass.
+Considerable Rhode Island work is illustrated in
+Hitchcock, H.-R., <i>Rhode Island Architecture</i>, Providence,
+R.I., 1939.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f98'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r98'>98</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Eliot, W. H., <i>A Description of the Tremont
+House</i>, Boston, 1830.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f99'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r99'>99</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Davis intended to include a central domed
+space on the model of Latrobe’s Bank of 1798. This
+was omitted when the design of the interior was
+revised by Samuel Thomson or William Ross and
+executed by John Frazee. See Torres, L., ‘Samuel
+Thomson and the Old Custom House’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1961), 185-90.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f100'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r100'>100</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schuyler, M., ‘A Great American
+Architect; Leopold Eidlitz’, <i>Architectural Record</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XXIV</span>, 163-79, 277-92, 364-78, and, for a more
+general treatment, Meeks, C. L. V., ‘Romanesque
+before Richardson in the United States’, <i>Art
+Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXV</span> (1953), 17-33.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f101'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r101'>101</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Stone, E. M., <i>The Architect and Monetarian:
+a Brief Memoir of Thomas Alexander Tefft</i>,
+Providence, R.I., 1869, and Wriston, B., ‘Architecture
+of Thomas Tefft’, <i>Rhode Island School of
+Design Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XVIII</span> (1940), 37-45.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f102'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r102'>102</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Meeks, C. L. V., ‘Henry Austin and the
+Italian Villa’, <i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXX</span> (1948), 145 ff.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f103'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r103'>103</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Smith, R. C., <i>John Notman and the
+Atheneum Building</i>, Philadelphia, 1951.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f104'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r104'>104</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Young, A. B., <i>New Custom House</i>,
+Boston, Boston, 1840. The tower that now replaces
+the dome was built by Peabody &amp; Stearns in 1913-15;
+it was the first real skyscraper in Boston.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f105'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r105'>105</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Young, A. B., <i>Plans of Public Buildings in
+Course of Construction under the Direction of the Secretary
+of the Treasury</i>, [Washington] 1855-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch06n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 6 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f106'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r106'>106</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hussey devotes only a portion of his book to
+the Picturesque in architecture. See also Pevsner,
+N., ‘The Picturesque in Architecture’, <i>Journal of
+the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LV</span> (1947),
+55-61. C. L. V. Meeks in ‘Picturesque Eclecticism’,
+<i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXII</span> (1950), 226-35, extends the
+range of the Picturesque to include considerably
+more of nineteenth-century architecture than is
+usual. As with ‘Romantic’ or ‘Classical’, it makes a
+difference whether or not one uses a capital; with a
+capital it seems best to restrict the term Picturesque
+to the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries,
+although the point of view lasted down into
+the fifties, and it is also possible to recognize a sort
+of ‘Neo-Picturesque’ in the seventies and eighties
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch12'>12</a> and <a href='#ch13'>13</a> particularly).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f107'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r107'>107</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f19' class='c025'><sup>[19]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch01n'>1</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f108'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r108'>108</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Thomas Hopper was even more addicted to
+the ‘Neo-Norman’, as Gosford Castle in Ireland,
+begun in 1819, and the rather late Penrhyn Castle
+of 1827-37 near Bangor in Wales, all built of Mona
+marble and with a keep copied from that of twelfth-century
+Hedingham Castle in Essex, splendidly
+illustrate. See Fedden, R. R., ‘Thomas Hopper and
+the Norman Revival’, in <i>Studies in Architectural
+History</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span> (1956).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f109'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r109'>109</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Musgrave, C., <i>Royal Pavilion; a Study in
+the Romantic</i>, Brighton, 1951; and Roberts, H. D., <i>A
+History of the Royal Pavilion, Brighton</i>, London, 1939.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_445'>445</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f110'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r110'>110</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Stroud, D., <i>Henry Holland</i>, London, 1950.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f111'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r111'>111</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Repton’s scheme was much less eclectic than
+Nash’s, being entirely based, like Sezincote, on the
+Daniells’ book on India (see Chapter <a href='#ch01'>1</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f112'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r112'>112</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Dale, A., <i>Fashionable Brighton, 1820-1860</i>,
+London, 1947; and <i>History and Architecture of
+Brighton</i>, Brighton, 1950.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f113'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r113'>113</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The work was begun in 1818 and continued
+down into the thirties. See Thompson, Francis, <i>A
+History of Chatsworth</i>, London, 1949.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f114'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r114'>114</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Clark, E., <i>The Britannia and Conway
+Tubular Bridges</i>, 2 vols and album, London, 1850.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f115'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r115'>115</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This was begun only in 1837 and completed,
+without the elaborate Egyptian decoration that
+Brunel originally intended, by W. H. Barlow
+(1812-1902) in 1864.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f116'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r116'>116</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Donner, P., ‘Edensor, or Brown come
+True’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCV</span> (1944), 39-43; and
+Chadwick’s <i>The Works of Sir Joseph Paxton</i>, 162-5,
+which gives primary credit to Paxton.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f117'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r117'>117</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Loudon, J. C., <i>Encyclopaedia of Cottage,
+Farm and Villa Architecture and Furniture</i>, London,
+1833; 2nd ed. with Supplement, 1842. This is the
+culminating anthology of the Picturesque, summarizing
+and all but concluding some forty years
+of Cottage and Villa Book production in England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f118'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r118'>118</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In addition to the treatises of C. L. Eastlake,
+Sir Kenneth Clark, Basil F. L. Clarke, and Marcus
+Whiffen listed in the Bibliography, see Kamphausen,
+A., <i>Gotik ohne Gott: ein Beitrag zur Deutung
+der Neugotik und des 19. Jahrhunderts</i>, Tübingen, 1952.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f119'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r119'>119</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Britton, J., <i>The Architectural Antiquities of
+Great Britain</i>, 5 vols, London, 1804-14; <i>Cathedral
+Antiquities of Great Britain</i>, 14 parts, 1814-35; etc.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f120'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r120'>120</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pugin, A. C., and Willson, E. J., <i>Specimens
+of Gothic Architecture</i>, 2 vols, London [1821];
+<i>Examples of Gothic Architecture</i>, London, 1831. Two
+more volumes of the <i>Examples</i> were published by
+A. W. N. Pugin after his father’s death.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f121'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r121'>121</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rickman, T., <i>An Attempt to Discriminate
+the Styles of English Architecture</i>, London [1817];
+many later editions. The terms Rickman introduced
+here—Early English, Decorated, and Perpendicular—for
+the successive phases of the English Gothic are
+still in general use. For Rickman’s use of iron in his
+early churches in Liverpool, see Chapter 7.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f122'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r122'>122</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Whiffen, M., ‘Rickman and Cambridge’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCVIII</span> (1945), 160-3.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f123'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r123'>123</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Pugin’s really important books concerning
+architecture were three: <i>Contrasts, or a Parallel between
+the Architecture of the 15th and 19th Centuries</i>,
+London, 1836; <i>The True Principles of Pointed or
+Christian Architecture</i>, London, 1841; and <i>An
+Apology for the Revival of Christian Architecture in
+England</i>, London, 1843. All of these have later editions
+which sometimes show significant omissions
+and additions.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f124'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r124'>124</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Founded at Cambridge University in 1839
+and later known as the Ecclesiological Society. The
+Society’s periodical, <i>The Ecclesiologist</i>, which began
+to appear in 1841, together with their other publications,
+had a notable influence on architectural development
+in England and English-speaking countries
+in the forties and fifties and even later. See
+White, J. F., <i>The Cambridge Movement</i>, Cambridge,
+1962.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f125'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r125'>125</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bonnar, T., <i>Biographical Sketch of G.
+Meikle Kemp</i>, Edinburgh and London, 1892.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f126'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r126'>126</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The palace-planning of one Durand pupil,
+Klenze, behind the regular façade of his Königsbau
+in Munich is actually very unsymmetrical and episodic,
+as Giedion points out in his <i>Spätbarocker und
+romantischer Klassizismus</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f127'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r127'>127</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Summerson, J., ‘Pugin at Ramsgate’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIII</span> (1948), 163-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f128'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r128'>128</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>An influential publication of this period was
+Hopkins, J., <i>Essay on Gothic Architecture</i>, Burlington,
+1836. Bishop Hopkins himself designed and
+built several churches of the rather feeble Gothick
+order of the plates in this book.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f129'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r129'>129</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Upjohn, R., <i>Upjohn’s Rural Architecture</i>,
+New York, 1852.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f130'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r130'>130</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Wills, F., <i>Ancient English Ecclesiastical
+Architecture ...</i>, New York, 1850, which includes
+designs for new churches. Similar is Hart, J., <i>Designs
+for Parish Churches in the Three Styles of English
+Church Architecture</i>, New York, 1857.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f131'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r131'>131</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Downing’s major work, <i>A Treatise on the
+Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening adapted to
+North America</i>, New York and London, 1841, with
+later editions to 1879 (and twentieth-century reprints),
+devotes only a chapter to house design. His
+really influential architectural books were <i>Cottage
+Residences</i>, New York, 1842, with later editions
+to 1887, and <i>The Architecture of Country Houses</i>,
+New York, 1850, with later editions to 1866.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f132'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r132'>132</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Scully, V. J., ‘Romantic Rationalism and
+the Expression of Structure in Wood: Downing,
+Wheeler, Gardner and the “Stick Style”, 1840-1876’,
+<i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXV</span> (1953), 121-42.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_446'>446</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f133'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r133'>133</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Robinson, P. F., <i>Rural Architecture</i>, London,
+1822, with later editions to 1836, and also
+his <i>Designs for Ornamental Villas</i>, London, 1827,
+again with later editions to 1836.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f134'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r134'>134</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The handsomest and one of the most
+authoritative mid-century books on chalets was by
+Graffenried and Sturler, <i>Architecture suisse</i>, Berne,
+1844.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f135'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r135'>135</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Vaux, C., <i>Villas and Cottages</i>, New York,
+1857, with later editions to 1874.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f136'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r136'>136</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Lancaster, C., ‘Oriental Forms in American
+Architecture’, <i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXIX</span> (1947), 183-93.
+For other work of Samuel Sloan, a very productive
+mid-century architect and architectural
+writer, see Coolidge, H. N., ‘A Sloan Checklist,
+1849-1884’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 34-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f137'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r137'>137</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Owen, R. D., <i>Hints on Public Architecture</i>,
+New York, 1849.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f138'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r138'>138</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Of the <i>Seven Lamps</i>, of the first volume of the
+<i>Stones of Venice</i>, and of the <i>Lectures on Architecture
+and Painting</i>, American editions appeared respectively
+in 1849, 1851, and 1854, the same years as the
+original London editions, and were succeeded by
+new issues and new editions at a pace far exceeding
+that maintained by the original publishers in England.
+In part this may merely mean that the American
+editions, all pirated, were smaller; but it is certainly
+evidence of an avid and extensive body of
+American readers from the mid century down to
+1900.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f139'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r139'>139</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Chenesseau, G., <i>Sainte-Croix d’Orléans;
+histoire d’une cathédrale gothique réedifiée par les
+Bourbons, 1599-1829</i>, 3 vols, Paris, 1921.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>The design of 1707 for the façade was by Robert
+de Cotte, J.-H. Mansart’s principal lieutenant. The
+work was carried on more actively by A.-J.
+Gabriel under Louis XV. With the Restoration in
+1816 Louis XVIII took up the completion of the
+project—which Napoleon had actually ordered
+before Waterloo—as part of the general preoccupation
+of the Restoration with a strengthening of the
+Church, and Charles X opened the finished church
+in 1829. Thus the renewal of activity here in the
+second decade of the nineteenth century precedes
+the other Neo-Gothic work described below by
+some twenty years. But credit—or discredit—for
+its Rococo-Gothic character belongs to the eighteenth
+not to the nineteenth century.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f140'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r140'>140</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rotrou, E. de, <i>Dreux, ses antiquités,
+Chapelle St Louis</i>, Dreux, 1864.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f141'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r141'>141</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The aesthetic climate of the period is presented
+in several books: Rosenthal, L., <i>L’Art et les
+artistes romantiques</i>, Paris, 1928; Robiquet, J., <i>L’Art
+et le goût sous la Restauration</i>, Paris, 1928; Schommer,
+P., <i>L’Art décoratif au temps du Romantisme</i>,
+Paris, 1928. These were published in advance of the
+‘Centenaire du Romantisme’ in 1930.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f142'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r142'>142</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Thiénon, C., <i>Voyage pittoresque dans le
+Bocage de la Vendée, ou vues de Clisson et ses environs</i>,
+Paris, 1817.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f143'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r143'>143</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In 1836 Viollet-le-Duc wrote to his father
+that every greengrocer had a small Italian Villa
+with a tower, but this is patently a rhetorical
+exaggeration.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f144'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r144'>144</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kaufmann, E., <i>Three Revolutionary Architects,
+Boullée, Ledoux and Lequeu</i>, Philadelphia, 1952.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f145'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r145'>145</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Heideloff, K., <i>Nürnberg’s Baudenkmale der
+Vorzeit</i>, Nuremberg, 1839; and <i>Die Kunst des
+Mittelalters in Schwaben</i>, Stuttgart, 1855. His <i>Ornaments
+of the Middle Ages</i> (to give it its English title),
+which began to appear in Nuremberg in 1838, had
+several editions with French and English text.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f146'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r146'>146</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is least true in France, where the Neo-Catholic
+intellectuals were Gothic enthusiasts and
+succeeded in imposing Gothic on the architects,
+few of whom ever took to it with whole-hearted
+enthusiasm. Even Viollet-le-Duc, after the forties,
+was confusedly eclectic in most of his newly designed
+buildings as distinguished from his ‘restorations’
+and his completions of unfinished medieval
+monuments (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch07n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 7 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f147'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r147'>147</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Sheppard, R., <i>Cast Iron in Building</i>, London,
+1945, and Gloag, J. and Bridgwater, D., <i>A
+History of Cast Iron in Building</i>, London, 1948. These
+accounts require considerable revision in the light of
+later research by T. C. Bannister and by A. W.
+Skempton. See Note <a href='#f151' class='c025'><sup>[151]</sup></a>, <i>infra</i>, and for further illustrations,
+‘The Iron Pioneers’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXX</span> (1961), 14-19, and Richards, J. M., <i>The
+Functional Tradition in Early Industrial Buildings</i>,
+London, 1958.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f148'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r148'>148</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Problems of fire-resistance were already under
+discussion in England in the forties. The London
+Fire Department even refused to enter burning
+buildings with internal skeletons of iron because of
+the danger of their collapse; while the effectiveness
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_447'>447</span>of fireproofing iron columns with masonry sheathing
+was already being tested in 1846. I owe this information,
+as well as that on many other significant
+points in this chapter, to Turpin C. Bannister.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f149'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r149'>149</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Harris, J., ‘Cast Iron Columns 1706’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXX</span> (1961), 60-1.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f150'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r150'>150</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Raistrick, A., <i>Dynasty of Ironfounders</i>,
+London, [1953].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f151'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r151'>151</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Giedion, S., <i>Bauen in Frankreich: Eisen,
+Eisenbeton</i>, Leipzig, 1928, an account which its own
+author and others have considerably emended since.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f152'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r152'>152</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This was replaced a quarter of a century later
+when a new stair-hall was built by Percier &amp; Fontaine.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f153'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r153'>153</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bannister, T. C., ‘The First Iron-Framed
+Buildings’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CVII</span> (1950), 231-46;
+Skempton, A. W., and Johnson, H. R., ‘The
+First Iron Frames’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXXI</span>
+(1962), 175-86. In 1803-4 came two more iron-framed
+mills, the North Mill at Belper and one at
+Leeds.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f154'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r154'>154</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Fairbairn, W., <i>On the Application of Cast
+and Wrought Iron to Building Purposes</i>, London, 1854.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f155'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r155'>155</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Buckler, J. and J. C., <i>Views of Eaton Hall</i>,
+London, 1826.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f156'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r156'>156</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Mock, E., <i>The Architecture of Bridges</i>, New
+York, 1949; Whitney, C., <i>Bridges; a Study in their
+Art, Science and Evolution</i>, New York, 1929; De
+Maré, E., <i>The Bridges of Britain</i>, London, 1954;
+Andrews, C., ‘Early Iron Bridges of the British
+Isles’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXX</span> (1936), 63-8; and
+‘Early Victorian Bridges in Suspension in the
+British Isles’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXX</span> (1936),
+109-12; and Mehrtens, G., <i>Der deutsche Brückenbau
+in XIX Jahrhundert</i>, Berlin, 1900.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f157'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r157'>157</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In addition to Telford’s own superbly illustrated
+autobiography and the two modern monographs,
+see Sutherland, R. J. M., ‘Telford’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIV</span> (1953), 389-94.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f158'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r158'>158</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The American James Finley built an iron-chain
+suspension bridge as early as 1801 and
+patented the system in 1808 after he had built
+several more. See Pope, T., <i>Treatise on Bridge Architecture</i>,
+New York, 1811, which was probably
+known to Telford.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f159'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r159'>159</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>These early French bridges—and several important
+early English ones too—are illustrated in
+later editions of Rondelet’s <i>Traité</i>
+(See Note <a href='#f40' class='c025'><sup>[40]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch02n'>2</a>), and in Bruyère, L., <i>Études relatives à
+l’art des constructions</i>, Paris, 1823. Delon’s name is
+also given as Dilon and Dillon.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f160'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r160'>160</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Séguin, M., <i>Des ponts en fil de fer</i>, Paris, 1824.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f161'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r161'>161</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Ellet, C., <i>The Wheeling Bridge</i> [Philadelphia,
+1852]. For this bridge Roebling provided the
+cables but not the design.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f162'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r162'>162</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Sec Conant, W., <i>The Brooklyn Bridge</i>, New York [1883].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f163'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r163'>163</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hautecœur lists nearly forty built before 1848
+in Paris alone. For the Galerie d’Orléans, see Fontaine,
+C., <i>Histoire du Palais Royal</i>, Paris, 1834.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f164'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r164'>164</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Thiollet, F., <i>Serrurerie de fonte et de fer récemment
+exécutés</i>, Paris, 1832, illustrates several examples.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f165'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r165'>165</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘Early Iron: Curvilinear
+Hothouses’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CVI</span> (1949),
+188-9.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f166'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r166'>166</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Sec Meeks, C. L. V., ‘The Life of a Form: A
+History of the Train Shed’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CX</span> (1951), 163-74, and his book <i>The Railroad
+Station</i>, New Haven, 1956.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f167'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r167'>167</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Arschavir, A. A., ‘The Inception of the
+English Railway Station’, <i>Architectural History</i>, <span class='fss'>IV</span>
+(1961), 63-76, for the story before Crown Street.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f168'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r168'>168</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Clark, E., <i>The Britannia and Conway
+Tubular Bridges</i>, 2 vols and atlas, London, 1850.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f169'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r169'>169</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘The Coal Exchange’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CI</span> (1947), 185-7.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f170'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r170'>170</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bannister, T. C., ‘The Genealogy of the
+Dome of the United States Capitol’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>VII</span> (1948), 1-16.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f171'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r171'>171</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Bogardus’s priority in this matter is by no
+means absolute. Certainly earlier in America was
+the Miners’ Bank, built by Haviland in Pottsville,
+Penna., in 1829-30; but here cast iron was used
+only to provide a decorative sheathing of the brick
+walls in the absence of available stone. Also earlier
+was a steam flour-mill three storeys high prefabricated
+by Sir William Fairbairn in London in 1839
+and sent to Turkey, where it was erected in Istanbul
+in 1840. This was more like Bogardus’s building,
+and he had probably actually seen it when it was
+exhibited in London in Fairbairn’s shops at Millwall
+before being disassembled and shipped away.
+Daniel D. Badger (1806-?) also claimed priority
+because of the many one-storey shops he had
+built of iron, one of which was just across Center
+Street in New York from Bogardus’s factory. But
+Bogardus deserved the publicity he received at
+home and abroad; undoubtedly it was his activity
+which really started the general vogue of cast-iron
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_448'>448</span>fronts in the United States. See Bogardus, J., <i>Cast
+Iron Buildings: their Construction and Advantages</i>,
+New York, 1856 (written for Bogardus by a
+friendly ‘ghost’, John W. Thomson), and Bannister,
+T. C., ‘Bogardus Revisited, Part One: The
+Iron Fronts’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XV</span> (1956), 12-22.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f172'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r172'>172</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Sturges, W. K., ‘Cast Iron in New
+York’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIV</span> (1953), 233-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f173'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r173'>173</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘Early Cast Iron
+Façades’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIX</span> (1951), 113-16.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f174'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r174'>174</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., <i>The Crystal Palace ...</i>,
+2nd ed., Northampton, Mass., 1952.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f175'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r175'>175</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Carstensen, G., <i>The New York Crystal
+Palace</i>, New York, 1854.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f176'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r176'>176</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The date of this is often given as 1855, when
+Labrouste took charge of the work at the Bibliothèque
+Nationale, and the original project for it
+may well be more nearly contemporaneous with
+the Reading Room of the British Museum.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f177'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r177'>177</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Six pavilions were built first and four more
+before 1870; the remaining two were not erected
+until the 1930s. See Baltard, V., and Callet, F.,
+<i>Monographie des Halles centrales de Paris construites
+sous le régne de Napolèon III</i>, Paris, 1865.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f178'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r178'>178</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Technically the architect of Saint-Eugène in
+Paris was L.-A. Lusson, and in his monograph on the
+church, <i>Plans, coupes, elevations, et details de l’église ...
+de Saint Eugène</i>, Paris, 1855, he does not even mention
+Boileau’s name. However, the credit—or, to
+many contemporaries, the discredit—for the character
+of the cast-iron Gothic interior of the Paris
+church has always been given to Boileau.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch08n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 8 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f179'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r179'>179</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>A notably extreme early example is Visconti’s
+Fontaine Molière of 1841-4 in the Rue de Richelieu
+in Paris.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f180'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r180'>180</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Here Visconti’s taste also proves to have been
+premonitory. His project of 1833 for a library
+already had a bulbous roof over the central
+pavilion; while that of 1849 for the Bibliothèque
+Nationale in the Rue de Richelieu had bold engaged
+orders on the central pavilion and a tall
+straight-sided mansard as well.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f181'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r181'>181</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘Second Empire “avant
+la lettre”’, <i>Gazette des Beaux Arts</i>, <span class='fss'>XIII</span> (1953),
+115-30. The existence of French analogues in the
+forties was insufficiently stressed there, however.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f182'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r182'>182</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kramer, E. W., ‘Detlef Lienau, an Architect
+of the Brown Decades’, <i>Journal of the Society of
+Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIV</span> (1955), 18-25. Lienau
+was born in Schleswig-Holstein, then Danish, but
+received his early education in Germany. For a still
+earlier mansard than Lienau’s, see Dallett, J. F.
+‘John Notman’s Mansard, 1848’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 81.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f183'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r183'>183</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Aulanier, C., <i>Le Nouveau Louvre de
+Napoleon III</i>, Paris [1953], and Hautecoeur, L.
+<i>Histoire du Louvre</i>, Paris [n.d.]</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f184'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r184'>184</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pinkney, D. H., <i>Napoleon III and the Rebuilding
+of Paris</i>, Princeton, N.J., 1958. Work began
+on the extension of the Rue de Rivoli in 1851; but
+it was only in 1853 that the Emperor found in
+G.-E. Haussmann (1809-91), whom he made Prefect
+of the Seine and later a baron, an adequate
+collaborator and executant for his tremendous
+urbanistic programme.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f185'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r185'>185</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>A tour which can be taken vicariously is provided
+in a splendid set of lithographs of the period,
+<i>Paris dans sa splendeur</i>; from this Plates 19 and 55<span class='fss'>B</span>
+are taken.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f186'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r186'>186</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The degree of control exercised by public
+authority over the façades varied. For the extension
+of the Rue de Rivoli, continuation of Percier &amp;
+Fontaine’s original design was required; and for the
+Place de l’Étoile and the Place de l’Opéra comprehensive
+designs established in advance were enforced
+(see below). Elsewhere only the height of
+the cornice line and the silhouette of the mansard
+were ordinarily standardized by regulation.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f187'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r187'>187</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Built in 1855 as the Hôtel des Chemins de Fer,
+but now the Hôtel du Louvre, and the work of
+Hittorff, Rohault de Fleury, Armand, and Pellechet.
+Hittorff and Rohault were also collaborating on the
+houses surrounding the Place de l’Étoile at this
+time. T. L. Donaldson, reporting on the new hotel
+at the Royal Institute of British Architects on 22
+June 1855, remarked: ‘The roof plays an important
+part in the design ... much of the majesty of French
+buildings is derived from these lofty roofs.’
+Donaldson supervised the erection of the Hope
+house, and had thus played a personal part in the
+introduction of the French mansard into England
+six years earlier.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f188'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r188'>188</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is curious that there should be uncertainty
+about the authorship of a complex so central to the
+building activity of its era. The Grand Hotel which
+occupies the corner of the Boulevard des Italiens to
+the left of the Opéra was by the team responsible
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_449'>449</span>for the Hôtel des Chemins de Fer at the other end
+of the avenue (see Note <a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a>). Pinkney in <i>Napoleon III
+and the Rebuilding of Paris</i>, the latest to discuss the
+subject, gives credit for all the façades around the
+Place de l’Opéra to Rohault; Hautecoeur assigns
+the rounded pavilions opposite the front of the
+Opéra to Blondel and mentions no other architect.
+Whoever was responsible, Garnier felt they were
+much too tall and confining for his Opéra.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f189'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r189'>189</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Garnier, J.-L.-C., <i>Le nouvel Opéra de
+Paris</i>, 2 vols text and 6 vols plates, Paris, 1875-81.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f190'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r190'>190</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>By this time Viollet-le-Duc was far more
+‘Victorian’ than Garnier, yet his secular work had
+become so eclectic and even original in detail as
+hardly any longer to be Neo-Gothic at all (see
+Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f191'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r191'>191</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Daly, C., and Davioud, G.-J.-A., <i>Les
+théâtres de la Place du Châtelet</i>, Paris, 1860.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f192'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r192'>192</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Notice du Palais de Longchamps à Marseille</i>,
+Marseilles, 1872.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f193'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r193'>193</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Daly, C., <i>L’Architecture privée au XIX<sup>e</sup>
+siècle ... sous Napoléon III; nouvelles maisons de
+Paris et des environs</i>, 3 vols, Paris, 1864; Calliat,
+V., <i>Parallèle des nouvelles maisons de Paris</i>, vol. <span class='fss'>II</span>,
+Paris, 1864; Adam, Leveil, and LeBlanc, <i>Recueil des
+maisons les plus remarquables</i>, Paris, 1858; and
+<i>Maisons les plus remarquables de Paris</i>, Paris, 1870.
+César Daly, as editor of the <i>Revue de l’architecture</i>,
+also determined the character of the material that
+periodical offered in this period.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f194'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r194'>194</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is awkward that the long career of Viollet-le-Duc,
+like that of Semper, does not fall largely
+within any single chapter of this book. Active from
+the forties until the seventies, leading restorer of
+medieval monuments of his age in France, leading
+medieval archaeologist of Europe, controversial reformer
+of French architectural education (at least
+<i>in posse</i>), author of influential critical books, he was
+the inspirer—by his writings rather than his executed
+work—of a later generation of architectural innovators
+abroad perhaps even more notably than at
+home. His failure to conform to the normal pattern
+of architectural life that usually confines a particular
+man’s significant activity within some one phase of
+architectural development—such as, on the whole,
+each chapter of this book deals with—makes it necessary
+to present his career in piecemeal fashion. It is
+partly covered in Chapter 6, with a few further
+mentions in this chapter, and—more significantly—in
+Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a> in this Part and Chapter <a href='#ch16'>16</a> at the
+beginning of Part Three. It is worth noting that
+Viollet-le-Duc is the only architect who enters this
+book in each of its three parts, even though it is
+only as an influence, not an executant, that he comes
+into the last part.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f195'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r195'>195</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>And some contemporaries were ready to say
+Sicilian! It was started—or at least commissioned—some
+years before the first volume of the great
+treatise on Syrian architecture appeared: Vogüé,
+C.-J.-M. de, <i>Syrie Centrale</i>, 2 vols, Paris, 1865-77.
+But Vaudremer must have seen the drawings of
+Kalat Seman published by Duthuit in the <i>Gazette
+des architectes et du bâtiment</i>, 1864, No. 7, 79.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f196'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r196'>196</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Daumet, H., <i>Notice sur M. Abadie</i>, Paris,
+1886. It is relevant that Abadie became Diocesan
+Architect of Périgueux in 1874, the same year he
+began the Sacré-Cœur, the competition for which
+he had won two years earlier.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f197'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r197'>197</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For characteristic French prize projects that
+were admired and emulated abroad, see <i>Les grands
+prix de Rome d’architecture de 1850-1900</i>, Paris [n.d.]</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f198'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r198'>198</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For the Massachusetts institution, see Ware,
+W. R., <i>An Outline of a Course of Architectural Instruction</i>,
+Boston, 1866; for Columbia, see <i>idem</i>,
+‘The Instruction in Architecture at the School of
+Mines’, <i>School of Mines Quarterly</i>, <span class='fss'>X</span> (1888), 28-43.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f199'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r199'>199</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Yet one of the boldest modern architects of
+Latin America, Carlos Raúl Villanueva (b. 1900) of
+Venezuela, was educated at the École des Beaux-Arts
+itself; and most of the other modern architects
+in these countries—those over forty at least—were
+trained in the local Escuelas de Bellas Artes based
+on the Paris original.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f200'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r200'>200</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The most conspicuous exception, dominating
+the whole city, is the Mole Antonelliana. This
+extraordinary edifice, begun by Alessandro Antonelli
+(1798-1880) in 1863, more than rivals his very
+tall earlier dome on San Gaudenzio in Novara,
+designed in 1840. Never really completed, the
+construction of the Mole continued intermittently
+down to Antonelli’s death. By its great height and
+in some of the technicalities of its construction it
+rivals the Eiffel Tower and the early American skyscrapers
+which are posterior to it by several decades.
+Yet Antonelli arrived at no coherent
+expression of his structural innovations and, to
+judge from the successive purposes for which the
+structure has been intended to serve or has served,
+no real capacity to provide a functionally viable
+building. On the whole, as its present name implies,
+this is a monument chiefly to its designer’s megalomania.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_450'>450</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f201'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r201'>201</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Reed, H. H., ‘Rome: The Third Sack’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CVII</span> (1950), 91-110.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f202'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r202'>202</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The third prominent edifice, surprisingly
+enough, is High Victorian Gothic. St Paul’s, the
+American church, is by the English architect G. E.
+Street, and its curious relation to the characteristic
+academic blocks by Koch and his contemporaries
+can be appreciated on Plate <a href='#pl100'>100</a> (see Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f203'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r203'>203</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Acciaresi, P., <i>Giuseppe Sacconi e l’opera
+sua massima</i>, Rome, 1911.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f204'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r204'>204</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The best-maintained later equivalent in
+northern Europe is probably the Passage, as it is
+called, in The Hague. Built in 1882-5, this hardly
+rivals the Galleria Mazzini in Genoa in length and
+breadth, much less Mengoni’s. There are many
+other examples, some of them considerably later,
+but few are in good condition today, and none
+have the scale of the three principal Italian examples.
+For earlier French examples, see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch09n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 9 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f205'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r205'>205</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kreisel, H., <i>The Castles of Ludwig II of
+Bavaria</i>, Darmstadt [n.d.] and <i>Schloss Linderhof</i>,
+Munich, 1959.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f206'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r206'>206</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The design derives from the results of a
+competition held in 1876. Of the nine architects
+involved in the execution of the building, Grotjan,
+Lamprecht, Robertson, and Martin Haller (1835-1925)
+had won prizes in the competition. The tower
+is attributed specifically to the last and sometimes,
+more loosely, the whole structure.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f207'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r207'>207</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It should be pointed out that tall mansards
+allowed the addition of a full storey—sometimes
+even two—without increasing the height of the
+masonry work of the façade itself; thus there
+were reasons of economy as well as of fashion
+for their spread at this time (see Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f208'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r208'>208</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For that matter the London Ritz Hotel, built
+in 1905-6 by Mewès &amp; Davis, is capped with a
+high mansard, although the vocabulary of their
+façades is a discreet and academic, if overscaled,
+<i>style Louis XVI</i> and the construction—reputedly—the
+first example of the use of a steel skeleton of the
+American skyscraper type in England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f209'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r209'>209</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Thomas Cundy II (1790-1867) died in this
+year; if provided by the Estate Architects’ office, the
+designs were either initiated before his death or
+else they were entirely by his assistants, perhaps
+directed by his surviving brother Joseph (1795-1875).
+A. T. Bolton believed that the responsibility
+for the design lay with the builder Trollope; the
+Grosvenor Estate office, however, names not Trollope
+but the Cubitt firm as the builders. As with the
+Place de l’Opéra, the credit—or discredit—for this
+most notable and conspicuous piece of Second
+Empire urbanism remains rather uncertain.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f210'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r210'>210</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See, however, Castermans, A., <i>Parallèle des
+maisons de Bruxelles</i>, Paris, 1856, which illustrates
+much work that is not at all Parisian.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f211'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r211'>211</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Poelaert, J., <i>Le Nouveau Palais de Justice de
+Bruxelles</i>, Brussels, 1904.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f212'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r212'>212</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Semper was in England for several years after
+he left Dresden as a result of the revolution that
+also led to Wagner’s expulsion in 1848. He did no
+building in England, but was closely associated with
+Cole and his Department of Practical Art. The
+catafalque of the Duke of Wellington, used at the
+State funeral in 1852, was of his design. His Swiss
+period was followed by a triumphant return to
+Dresden to rebuild the opera-house there and his
+final settlement in Vienna in 1871. Since this relatively
+important architect appears, like Viollet-le-Duc,
+in unrelated contexts in several different
+chapters of this book, it seems well to recall here the
+total range of his career from its beginnings in
+Hamburg in the forties to its conclusion in Vienna
+in the seventies, passing by Dresden, London,
+Zurich, and Dresden a second time.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f213'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r213'>213</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Burnham, A., ‘The New York Architecture
+of Richard M. Hunt’, <i>Journal of the Society of
+Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XI</span> (1952), 9-14.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f214'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r214'>214</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Of course Daly’s <i>Revue de l’architecture</i> reached
+some American architects and also his <i>Architecture
+privée</i> (see Note <a href='#f194' class='c025'><sup>[194]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch08n'>8</a>). See also Liénard,
+M., <i>Specimens of the Decoration and Ornamentation
+of the XIXth Century</i>, Boston, 1875, although by
+that date the vogue for such Second Empire detailing
+was all but over.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f215'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r215'>215</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Walter, T. U., <i>Letter to the Committee
+on Public Buildings, in reference to an Enlargement of
+the Capitol</i> [Washington, 1850], and <i>Report of the
+Architect of the United States Capitol and the New
+Dome</i>, Washington, 1864.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f216'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r216'>216</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See McKenna, R. T., ‘James Renwick, Jr,
+and the Second Empire Style in the United States’,
+<i>Magazine of Art</i>, <span class='fss'>XLIV</span> (1951), 97-101.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f217'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r217'>217</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Boston. Committee on Public Buildings,
+<i>The City Hall, Boston</i>, Boston, 1866. A considerably
+larger early project of 1861 emulates much
+more closely the new Louvre.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_451'>451</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f218'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r218'>218</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bunting, B., ‘The Plan of the Back Bay Area in Boston’, <i>Journal
+of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIII</span> (1954),
+19-24.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch10n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 10 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f219'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r219'>219</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Despite the ‘correctness’ of Butterfield’s detailing,
+an idiosyncratic coarsening can be noted at
+St Augustine’s College in Canterbury and in other
+work by him done several years before All Saints’;
+yet, by contrast to other aspects of his mature style,
+his moulded detail remained conventional.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f220'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r220'>220</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Since building Christ Church, Streatham, at
+the opening of the decade, Wild had been busy in
+Egypt. His curious St Mark’s, Alexandria, as Saracenic
+as his detractors accused the Streatham
+church of being, was unhappily never brought to
+completion. Designed in 1842, work was suspended
+for lack of funds in 1848 and Wild then returned to
+England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f221'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r221'>221</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Deane owed his knighthood to having been
+Mayor of Cork, not to his professional attainments.
+It would appear that Woodward did all the
+firm’s designing and, after his death in 1861,
+Deane’s son Thomas Newenham took over.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f222'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r222'>222</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Viollet-le-Duc, E.-E., <i>Dictionnaire raisonné
+de l’architecture française du XI<sup>e</sup> au XVI<sup>e</sup> siècle</i>, 10
+vols., Paris, 1854-68.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f223'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r223'>223</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Mackail, J. W., <i>The Life of William Morris</i>,
+London, 1899.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f224'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r224'>224</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Burges designed this in 1868 in his most
+archaeological and articulated French Gothic manner.
+Construction began only in 1893, long after
+Burges’s death, and the suave quality of the execution,
+so uncharacteristic of the still High Victorian
+date of the original design, is thereby explained;
+at best the design was singularly out of key with
+what Bodley had built.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f225'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r225'>225</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Since this is a Catholic church, and by a man
+who knew French Gothic architecture well, it provides
+the fairest possible comparison with Viollet-le-Duc’s
+own new church of Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée
+at St-Denis designed at almost precisely
+the same time (Plate <a href='#pl098'>98</a>). Viollet-le-Duc is world-famous;
+Clutton is not generally considered even
+in England one of the leaders of his generation;
+yet the superiority of the Leamington church to
+the St-Denis church is very considerable indeed
+both inside and out.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f226'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r226'>226</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Harbron, D., ‘Thomas Harris’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCII</span> (1942), 63-6, and Donner, P.,
+‘Harris Florilegium’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCIII</span>
+(1943), 51-2.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f227'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r227'>227</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is spoilt externally by an unfortunate
+tower added by his son A. E. Street (1855-1938)
+in 1884-5.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f228'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r228'>228</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>The National Memorial to H.R.H. the
+Prince Consort</i> [London], 1873.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f229'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r229'>229</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Scott’s aspirations for architecture, in general
+more sympathetic than what he built, will be
+found in his <i>Remarks on Secular and Domestic Architecture,
+Present and Future</i>, London, 1858.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f230'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r230'>230</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Although Woodward’s death occurred in the
+same year 1861 that this club was begun, it is possible,
+even probable, that the original design was
+his.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f231'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r231'>231</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Nesfield, W. E., <i>Specimens of Mediaeval
+Architecture ... in France and Italy</i>, London, 1862.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f232'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r232'>232</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The intentions of the church builders in this
+decade are well presented in Micklethwaite, J. T.,
+<i>Modern Parish Churches, their Plan, Design, and
+Furnishing</i>, London, 1874.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f233'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r233'>233</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>An extraordinary example of the use of Victorian
+Gothic for a somewhat unexpected purpose
+was Columbia Market by H. A. Darbishire (1839-1908)
+set down in 1866-8 among the grim housing
+blocks that he built for the philanthropist Angela
+Burdett-Coutts. See Wilson, F. M., ‘Ypres at
+Bethnal Green’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCVI</span> (1944),
+131-4.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f234'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r234'>234</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Godwin’s active and distinguished Victorian
+Gothic period concluded with the building of two
+castles in Ireland, Dromore at Pallaskenny for the
+Earl of Limerick in 1867-9 and Glenbegh in 1868-71.
+Burges was with him in Ireland when he designed
+Dromore, and its decorations and furnishings
+rival in elaboration and exceed in elegance
+what Burges did for Lord Bute at Cardiff and
+Castell Coch in these years. A row with the client
+for Glenbegh, who complained of drastic leakage,
+in which Godwin’s then partner Crisp deserted
+him, did Godwin much harm professionally. He
+was still a relatively important figure in the Late
+Victorian seventies, but more as a decorator than
+as an architect (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch11n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 11 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f235'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r235'>235</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>At the Centennial Exhibition in Philadelphia
+the larger pavilions were all of iron and glass; and
+probably the most influential buildings were the
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_452'>452</span>British ones designed by Thomas Harris—no longer
+a wild ‘Victorian’—in a mode closely approaching
+Norman Shaw’s ‘Manorial’ mode (see Chapter <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).
+However, the exhibition stimulated the publication
+of several books on the Colonial architecture of
+Philadelphia which played their part in preparing
+the way for a ‘Colonial Revival’
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch13'>13</a> and <a href='#ch15'>15</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f236'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r236'>236</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Separate American editions of vols 2 and 3 did
+not appear promptly in 1853 in the way that of
+vol. 1 did in 1851. However, the three-volume
+American edition of 1861 was the first of the complete
+work.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f237'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r237'>237</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Tunnard, C., ‘Deviation by the Brothers
+Potter, Collegiate Gothic at Union College,
+Schenectady’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIII</span> (1948), 67.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f238'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r238'>238</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f197' class='c025'><sup>[197]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch07n'>8</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f239'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r239'>239</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>They had, after all, first met when they were
+both working for R. M. Hunt.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f240'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r240'>240</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Ware, W. R., <i>The Memorial Hall, Harvard
+University</i>, Boston, 1887.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f241'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r241'>241</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In the 1936 edition of my book on Richardson
+a later Dorsheimer plan is incorrectly associated
+with this Buffalo house. The house is properly
+identified in Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘Richardson’s
+American Express Building: A Note’, <i>Journal of
+the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span> (1950), 25-30
+and in the new 1961 edition.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f242'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r242'>242</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is also missing from my 1936 Richardson
+book, but will be found in the article cited above
+and in the 1961 edition of the book.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f243'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r243'>243</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Wight, P. B., ‘Reminiscences of Russell
+Sturgis’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXVI</span> (1909), 123-31.
+It is perhaps worth pointing out that Farnam
+Hall, together with Sturgis’s contiguous Battell
+Chapel of 1876 and his Durfee Hall at right angles
+to it, although neither are of at all comparable
+excellence, give this corner of the Old Campus at
+Yale a consistent High Victorian Gothic character
+interesting to study both in relation to the earlier
+Romantic Gothic of Henry Austin’s library (now
+Dwight Chapel) of 1842-4 on the other side of the
+campus and the ‘traditional’ Collegiate Gothic of
+James Gamble Rogers’s twentieth-century Harkness
+Quadrangle across High Street.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f244'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r244'>244</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schuyler, M., ‘The Work of William
+Appleton Potter’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXVI</span> (1909),
+176-96.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f245'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r245'>245</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Holly, H. H., <i>Church Architecture Illustrated</i>,
+Hartford, 1871. Much more extreme
+models can be found in general compendia of
+architectural design published in the late sixties
+and early seventies.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f246'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r246'>246</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Campbell, W., ‘Frank Furness, an
+American Pioneer’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CX</span> (1951),
+310-15.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f247'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r247'>247</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See ‘Another Furness Building: Provident Life
+and Trust Company Building, Philadelphia’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXII</span> (1952), 196, ‘Provident
+Trust Company Banking Room, Philadelphia’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XI</span>
+(1952), 31; and Massy, J. C., ‘The Provident Trust
+Buildings’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 79-80.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f248'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r248'>248</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Withers, F. C., <i>Church Architecture</i>, New
+York, 1871.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f249'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r249'>249</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Upjohn, R. M., <i>The State Capitol, Hartford,
+Conn.</i>, Boston, 1886.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f250'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r250'>250</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It was the selection of the old Trinity
+College property to provide a site for the new
+Capitol that led to the rebuilding of the college
+elsewhere, for which Burges provided the designs
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch10'>10</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f251'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r251'>251</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is worth recalling that much the same could
+evidently be said of Fuller &amp; Laver’s San Francisco
+municipal group; characteristically enough for the
+period, this was Second Empire like their Albany
+Capitol, not High Victorian Gothic (see Chapter <a href='#ch09'>9</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f252'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r252'>252</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Viollet-le-Duc, E.-E., <i>Entretiens sur
+l’architecture</i>, 2 vols, Paris, 1863, 1872; and translations,
+<i>Discourses on Architecture</i>, 2 vols, Boston,
+1875, 1881, and <i>Lectures on Architecture</i>, 2 vols,
+London, 1877, 1881. Originally the <i>Entretiens</i> appeared
+in parts, those in the first volume beginning
+to come out about 1860 and those in the second
+some six years later.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f253'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r253'>253</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The two most sumptuously illustrated publications
+concerning Viollet-le-Duc offer very few
+examples of new buildings designed by him; these
+must be sought in periodicals and other general
+contemporary sources. See <i>Compositions et dessins
+de Viollet-le-Duc</i>, Paris, 1884, and Baudot, A. de,
+and Roussel, J., <i>Dessins inédits de Viollet-le-Duc</i>, 3
+vols, Paris [n.d.]</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f254'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r254'>254</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The most extravagant compilation of idiosyncratic
+detail in Viollet-le-Duc’s work is to be
+seen on the tomb of Napoleon III’s half-brother the
+Duc de Morny, erected in 1858 in Père Lachaise
+Cemetery in Paris. Hardly any element of the
+ornamentation is clearly referable to a particular
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_453'>453</span>stylistic source, and the whole effect is as ‘Victorian’
+as anything the wildest High Victorians
+ever produced in England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f255'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r255'>255</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It should not be forgotten that Street’s Law
+Courts in London were completed only a year
+before Steindl began the Budapest Parliament
+House; but the Law Courts were, for England,
+extremely retardataire.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f256'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r256'>256</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Burges won the competition for this in 1857,
+but in the end Street received the commission and
+built the church in 1864-9.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f257'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r257'>257</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Meeks, C. L. V., ‘Churches by Street on
+the Via Nazionale and the Via del Babuino’, <i>Art
+Quarterly</i>, <span class='fss'>XVI</span> (1953), 215-27.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f258'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r258'>258</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Martinell, C., <i>La Sagrada Familia</i>, Barcelona,
+1952, and Puig Boada, I., <i>El Templo de la
+Sagrada Familia</i>, Barcelona, 1952. A phenomenal
+number of articles have appeared concerning this
+church, all listed up to his date of publication
+(1952) by Ráfols in the later edition of his monograph
+on Gaudí.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f259'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r259'>259</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Mixing the elements of several styles in individual
+buildings provided the liveliest aspect of
+eclecticism at this time; the mere use of alternative
+modes had chiefly the effect of blurring the edges
+of all the styles of the past.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f260'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r260'>260</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Compare, for example, Sigfried Giedion’s
+presentation of the period in <i>Space, Time, and
+Architecture</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch12n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 12 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f261'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r261'>261</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Many serious and conscientious English
+students of this period would precede such a list
+with the name of George Devey (1820-86). Of
+Devey, in whose office C. F. A. Voysey, the most
+original English architect of the next generation,
+chose to work after completing his apprenticeship
+with Seddon, Voysey later wrote: ‘Providentially
+an invitation came to enter the Office of the most
+extensive practitioner in homes for the Nobility
+and Gentry. No domestic practice has equalled his
+in extent before or since his death.’ As in the case of
+William Burn, whose aristocratic practice of the
+forties and fifties Devey’s more than rivalled in the
+sixties and seventies, neither he nor his clients cared
+for publicity, and so none of his work was published,
+even to the slight extent that the work of
+Nesfield and Webb was illustrated in the professional
+journals. Still today his houses are known
+to posterity chiefly through a few articles:
+Godfrey, Walter ‘The Work of George Devey’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XXI</span> (1907), 23-30, 83-8,
+293-306; and ‘George Devey, F.R.I.B.A., a Biographical
+Essay’, <i>Journal of the Royal Institute of
+British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>XIII</span> (1906), 501-25.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>But just as the work of Nesfield and Webb was
+in actuality familiar from the first to their professional
+friends and rivals, as also to prospective country
+house clients, so was that of Devey. Many of the
+stylistic trends so vigorously exploited by Shaw
+in the seventies can be traced back to Devey’s
+houses of the preceding decade—or so such experts
+on the period as H. S. Goodhart-Rendel and John
+Brandon-Jones, who know Devey’s work intimately,
+always insist. Foreign students of this period,
+from Muthesius to the Editor of this series and this
+author, perhaps merely because of lack of direct
+or even adequate indirect knowledge of Devey’s
+houses, have never been ready to grant him so
+important a place in the story. Here particularly,
+where the story is told in an international context,
+the evident strength of the influence of Shaw’s
+work abroad even more than at home justifies giving
+his primacy and referring only incidentally to
+that of Devey.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f262'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r262'>262</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Shaw did not immediately succeed Webb,
+since the latter stayed on in Street’s office until the
+middle of 1859. There must have been close contact
+between them over a period of up to a year,
+and they remained in touch from then on. Blomfield,
+Shaw’s biographer, being himself prejudiced
+against Webb, underestimates the reality and the
+importance of this relationship. It is only one of the
+many errors of fact or emphasis in his book.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>To quote from a private communication from
+Brandon-Jones concerning Shaw and Webb: ‘Each
+must have had a good idea of the work the other was
+doing. Their two offices, in Gray’s Inn and Bloomsbury
+Square, were within a stone’s-throw of one
+another, and Lethaby while working for Shaw was
+in close touch with Webb and was in his spare time
+assisting him with the architectural work of Morris
+&amp; Co. It is quite obvious from the dates of various
+executed works that Lethaby was carrying over
+Webb’s ideas and details and trying them out in
+work he was doing for Shaw. As for the mutual
+respect and friendship between Webb and Shaw, I
+[Brandon-Jones] have recently come across a letter
+written at the time of Shaw’s death in which he
+[Webb] pays a tribute to his “old friend”, and I
+have also seen a letter from Sydney Barnsley to
+Sydney Cockerell in which Barnsley says that he
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_454'>454</span>had called on Shaw only a few months before his
+death and that Shaw had been talking of Webb and
+saying that he still treasured some photographs
+given him by Webb nearly fifty years earlier.’</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f263'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r263'>263</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Devey’s incidental work at Penshurst Place
+in Kent, where that notable fourteenth-century
+manor house was restored by him, having been
+done more than a decade earlier, probably prepared
+the way for this. It is extremely likely that Nesfield
+was familiar with what Devey had done there; but
+the line forward leads, in the late sixties, from Nesfield
+to Shaw, not directly from Devey to Shaw.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f264'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r264'>264</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘Art Furniture of the Seventies’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXI</span> (1952), 23-50.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f265'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r265'>265</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The most famous instance of <i>japonisme</i> in
+decoration is Whistler’s ‘Peacock Room’, now in
+the Freer Gallery in Washington. See Ferriday, P.,
+‘Peacock Room’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXV</span>
+(1959), 407-14.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f266'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r266'>266</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Once again Devey had prepared the way, in
+this case at Betteshanger, Kent, a house built precisely
+ten years earlier. This will doubtless have
+been known both to friends of Devey’s clients and
+to various young architects. But the Kew lodge was
+located where everyone could see it, even though it
+was not published until the nineties.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f267'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r267'>267</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For this also there was precedent at Devey’s
+Betteshanger; but Betteshanger initiated no popular
+mode in the way that the conspicuous London
+schools by Robson and Stevenson’s highly touted
+house did at this point. For the schools, see Jones,
+D. G., ‘Towers of Learning’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXIII</span> (1958), 393-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f268'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r268'>268</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Harbron, D., ‘Queen Anne Taste and
+Aestheticism’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCLV</span> (1943),
+15-18.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f269'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r269'>269</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Shaw, R. N., <i>Sketches for Cottages and
+Other Buildings ...</i>, London, 1878.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f270'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r270'>270</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See ‘The Ballad of Bedford Park’, <i>St James’s
+Gazette</i>, 17 December 1881 (reprinted by Blomfield,
+<i>Shaw</i>, 34-6). This is an amusing but not
+entirely accurate contemporary description in
+verse.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f271'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r271'>271</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The handling of this building in section is
+particularly ingenious, the area of the service portions
+at the rear of the flats being much increased by
+the use of lower storey heights than in the reception
+rooms at the front. This device has been revived
+since, but its earlier invention by Shaw has rarely
+been noted Brandon-Jones pointed out to me.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f272'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r272'>272</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>At least they are now so painted; it is probable
+they were originally of ‘white’ Suffolk brick,
+actually a very pale yellow when newly laid and
+unbegrimed, but more likely to be black after a
+few decades of exposure to the air of London!</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f273'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r273'>273</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hyde, H. M., ‘Wilde and his Architect’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIX</span> (1951), 175-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f274'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r274'>274</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is characteristic of Shaw’s prestige in
+America and the rapidity with which architectural
+ideas crossed the ocean at this time that Shaw’s
+handsome perspective of the Alliance was published
+in America a few months earlier than in England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f275'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r275'>275</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>White first approached Webb but, finding
+him too difficult to deal with, went to Shaw—a
+significant episode as regards both architects.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f276'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r276'>276</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Brandon-Jones, J., ‘Notes on the Building
+of Smeaton Manor’, <i>Architectural History</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1958), 31-59.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch13n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 13 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f277'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r277'>277</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Webster, J. C., ‘Richardson’s American
+Express Building’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span> (1950), 21-4, and my article
+cited in Note 7 to Chapter <a href='#ch11'>11</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f278'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r278'>278</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Richardson, H. H., <i>Trinity Church, Boston</i>,
+Boston, 1888.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f279'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r279'>279</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>3 vols, Paris, 1868-73. It will be noted that the
+last volume of this appeared after the original competition
+drawings for Trinity Church were prepared.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f280'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r280'>280</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The source was probably the book by Vogüé
+of which the second volume appeared only in 1877
+(see Note <a href='#f196' class='c025'><sup>[196]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch08n'>8</a>). The motif first appeared
+in the North Easton Library, designed and begun
+in that year.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f281'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r281'>281</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Richardson, H. H., <i>The Ames Memorial Building</i><a href='#f197' class='c025'><sup>[197]</sup></a>, Boston, 1886.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f282'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r282'>282</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Olmsted, F. L., and Kimball, T., <i>Frederick Law Olmsted</i>,
+2 vols, New York, 1922-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f283'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r283'>283</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Richardson, H. H., <i>Austin Hall, Harvard
+Law School</i>, Boston, 1885.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f284'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r284'>284</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Richardson, H. H., <i>Description of Drawings
+for the Proposed New County Building for Allegheny
+County, Penn.</i>, Boston, 1884.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f285'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r285'>285</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schuyler, M., ‘The Romanesque Revival
+in New York’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1891), 7-38,
+151-98.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_455'>455</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f286'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r286'>286</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bragdon, C., ‘Harvey Ellis’, <i>Architectural
+Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXV</span> (1908), 173-83.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f287'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r287'>287</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Hunt, of the older generation, was generally
+recognized as a leader in this camp also, although
+his energies in these years were principally engaged
+in designing and building a series of <i>François I</i>
+châteaux for the Vanderbilts and other millionaires
+that are anything but academic in their involved
+picturesqueness.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>This curious episode, which has been given exaggerated
+importance by some historians of American
+architecture, began with the designing of the
+W. K. Vanderbilt house in New York in 1879-80
+(see Andrews, W., <i>The Vanderbilt Legend</i>, New
+York, 1941). Other architects were also briefly
+affected by what was hardly more than a recrudescence
+of a mode popular in France under Louis
+Philippe in Hunt’s youth (see Chapter <a href='#ch03'>3</a>).</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>A few houses by McKim, Mead &amp; White of
+the early eighties are definitely <i>François I</i>, and
+Richardson used <i>François I</i> dormers, probably
+independently of Hunt, on the Albany Capitol.
+Moreover, the round towers of the ‘Shingle Style’
+undoubtedly owe something to Stanford White’s
+sketching trips in France. This episode obviously
+parallels the interest in revived Northern Renaissance
+modes of design in Germany, Holland, and
+Scandinavia in these decades, and has analogies also
+to the contemporary work in England of George &amp;
+Peto and Collcutt (see Chapters <a href='#ch09'>9</a> and <a href='#ch12'>12</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f288'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r288'>288</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In the designing of the Sherman house—particularly
+in the Shavian detailing—White had probably
+played an important part; he was, moreover,
+called on by the Shermans to enlarge the house in
+1881. The library, of this date, is one of his finest
+pieces of interior decoration.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f289'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r289'>289</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>One of the earliest examples of the serious
+study of Colonial precedent is Arthur Little’s <i>Early
+New England Interiors</i>, Boston, 1878. However, his
+own work remained relatively free for some years.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f290'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r290'>290</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Building News</i>, 28 April 1882.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f291'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r291'>291</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>These tiles wore out some years ago and have
+now been replaced. The smooth black roof seen on
+Plate 111 lacks the fine scale and rich texture the
+pantiles provide.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f292'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r292'>292</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The conceptual organization of the exterior
+has seemed to most critics to have been borrowed
+from a much later monument, Henri Labrouste’s
+Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève in Paris of the
+1840s, even though McKim would not admit it.
+There is certainly none of Labrouste’s exposed
+metalwork in the interior; but the extensive use of
+Guastavino tile vaults, at this time a real technical
+innovation, is worth noting.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f293'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r293'>293</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Burnham, D. H., <i>World’s Columbian
+Exposition</i>, Chicago, 1894, and Ives, H., <i>The Dream
+City</i>, St Louis, 1893.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f294'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r294'>294</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The area round the ‘Wooded Isle’ was much
+less regular than that round the Lagoon in continuance
+of Olmsted’s earlier and more naturalistic sort
+of landscaping. Into this area were shunted most of
+the buildings by local architects, doubtless because
+McKim distrusted their capacity to conform to the
+academic standards he was setting.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch14n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 14 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f295'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r295'>295</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f97' class='c025'><sup>[97]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch05n'>5</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f296'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r296'>296</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Somewhat fuller accounts of English commercial
+architecture in this period will be found in
+Hitchcock, ‘Victorian Monuments of Commerce’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CV</span> (1949), 61-74, and in
+Hitchcock, <i>Early Victorian Architecture</i>, Chapters XI
+and XII. Most of the English buildings mentioned
+in this chapter are illustrated either in the book or
+the article.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f297'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r297'>297</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Weisman, W., ‘Commercial Palaces of
+New York’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXVI</span> (1954), 285-302.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f298'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r298'>298</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bogardus, J., <i>Cast Iron Buildings: Construction
+and Advantages</i>, New York, 1856.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f299'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r299'>299</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘Early Cast Iron
+Façades’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIX</span> (1951), 113-16.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f300'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r300'>300</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Weisman, W., ‘Philadelphia Functionalism
+and Sullivan’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1961), 3-19.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f301'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r301'>301</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Sturges, W. K., ‘Cast Iron in New York’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIV</span> (1953), 233-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f302'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r302'>302</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Peterson, C., ‘Ante-bellum Skyscraper’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span>
+(1950), 27-9; <span class='fss'>X</span> (1951), 25. The Jayne Building,
+begun by Johnston, was completed by Thomas U.
+Walter. It has unfortunately been demolished since
+1958.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f303'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r303'>303</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Woodward, G., ‘Oriel Chambers’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIX</span> (1956), 268-70. Fine measured
+drawings by students of the University of Liverpool
+School of Architecture were published in <i>Architectural
+History</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span> (1959), 81-94.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_456'>456</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f304'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r304'>304</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f277' class='c025'><sup>[277]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch13n'>13</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f305'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r305'>305</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Weisman, W., ‘New York and the
+Problem of the First Skyscraper’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XII</span> (1953), 13-20.
+For a rather different opinion, see Webster, J. C.,
+‘The Skyscraper: Logical and Historical Considerations’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XVIII</span> (1959), 126-39.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f306'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r306'>306</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is worth noting that neither cast-iron
+façades nor the vertical articulation of the Philadelphia
+buildings of the fifties was used in either
+case. Both developments of the mid century proved
+cul-de-sacs since the New York architects followed
+the established modes of the sixties for monumental
+buildings in these first two skyscrapers. In the
+same years 1873-4, however, Hunt did build the
+five-storey edifice at 478-482 Broadway in New
+York with an all cast-iron front, employing a sort
+of attenuated ‘giant order’ subsuming the three
+middle storeys.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f307'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r307'>307</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Giedion first called attention to the importance
+of ‘balloon-frame’ construction in <i>Space,
+Time and Architecture</i> in 1941; but see Field, W.,
+‘A Re-examination into the Invention of the Balloon
+Frame’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span> (1942), 3-29.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f308'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r308'>308</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Randall, G., <i>The Great Fire of Chicago
+and its Causes</i>, Chicago [1871].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f309'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r309'>309</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hope, H., ‘Louis Sullivan’s Architectural
+Ornament’, <i>Magazine of Art</i>, <span class='fss'>XL</span> (1947), 110-17.
+Sullivan thought of his early ornament as somehow
+‘Egyptian’, but it is not very easy to see
+why. A later, so far unpublished study by Etel
+Kramer seems to establish, contrary to his own
+statements, that Sullivan owed a good deal to the
+theories of Owen Jones and that his ornament
+matured, earlier than has hitherto been supposed,
+in 1884-5.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f310'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r310'>310</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is not the same as the Revell Store.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f311'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r311'>311</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Several more storeys were added later and
+appear in many of the published views.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f312'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r312'>312</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>One must say ‘metal’, because structural
+steel was only gradually replacing cast and wrought
+iron at this time; all these types of ferrous material
+were probably used in the Home Insurance, the
+Rookery, and other skyscrapers of the mid eighties.
+Two books by W. Birkmire, <i>Architectural Iron and
+Steel</i>, New York, 1891, and <i>Skeleton Construction in
+Buildings</i>, New York, 1893, best present the technical
+aspects of large-scale metal construction as it
+matured in the eighties and early nineties.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f313'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r313'>313</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>An American edition of this book appeared
+in 1880. See Note <a href='#f309' class='c025'><sup>[309]</sup></a>, <i>supra</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f314'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r314'>314</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>I owe this suggestion to Vincent Scully.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f315'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r315'>315</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Incidentally, the signature Frank L[loyd]
+Wright on the drawings for a rather Richardsonian
+group of three masonry houses in Chicago, designed
+in the Adler &amp; Sullivan office in 1888 for
+Victor L. Falkenau, suggests that it was Sullivan’s
+brilliant draughtsman, as it was Jenney’s assistant on
+the Leiter Building, who was responsible for this
+example of overt Richardsonian influence.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f316'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r316'>316</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The discovery by Condit that this building
+was begun in 1890 seemed to lend it a special importance,
+up until then unrecognized. But the text
+gives the correct dating.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f317'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r317'>317</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is so generally assumed that Sullivan’s
+mature style is without historical antecedents that
+the even more definitely <i>quattrocento</i> character of the
+entrance here, as well as of those of the Guaranty
+Building, is rarely noted.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f318'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r318'>318</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The five southernmost bays are an addition
+made in 1906 by D. H. Burnham &amp; Co. They
+follow, with some slight diminution in the bay-width,
+Sullivan’s original design.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>The form of the Burnham firm’s name in these
+years is significant of the increasing anonymity of
+architectural practice in America as the scale of
+operation increased (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f319'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r319'>319</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Purcell and Elmslie Architects</i> (Walker
+Art Gallery Exhibition Catalogue), Minneapolis,
+1953, and Gebhard, D., ‘Louis Sullivan and George
+Grant Elmslie’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 62-8, and <i>A Guide to the
+Existing Architecture of Purcell and Elmslie</i>, Roswell,
+N. M., 1960.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f320'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r320'>320</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Of more interest than the skyscraper is a
+smaller and earlier Singer Building, also by Flagg.
+Flagg was one American who retained contact with
+the French tradition of exposed metal construction
+as well as with the academic aspects of ‘Beaux
+Arts’ design as his first Singer Building illustrates.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f321'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r321'>321</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schuyler, M., ‘The Work of N. LeBrun
+&amp; Sons’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXVII</span> (1910), 365-80.
+The Metropolitan Tower is, of course, the work
+of a firm not of a single architect; LeBrun himself
+had been dead for some years.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_457'>457</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f322'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r322'>322</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schuyler, M., ‘“The Towers of Manhattan”
+and Notes on the Woolworth Building’,
+<i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXX</span> (1913), 98-122.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch15n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 15 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f323'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r323'>323</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f107' class='c025'><sup>[107]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a></p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f324'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r324'>324</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a remarkable later development of the
+veranda outside England, see Robertson, E. G.,
+‘The Australian Verandah’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXVII</span> (1960), 238-45.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f325'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r325'>325</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>There are many examples in various English
+books of the first third of the century; characteristic
+are those offered by T. F. Hunt, J. B. Papworth,
+and P. F. Robinson. See Note <a href='#f134' class='c025'><sup>[134]</sup></a> to Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f326'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r326'>326</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f132' class='c025'><sup>[132]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f327'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r327'>327</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f128' class='c025'><sup>[128]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f328'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r328'>328</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f133' class='c025'><sup>[133]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f329'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r329'>329</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f308' class='c025'><sup>[308]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch14n'>14</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f330'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r330'>330</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f132' class='c025'><sup>[132]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f331'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r331'>331</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In the <i>Builder</i> for 15 January 1859 and in the
+Supplement to Kerr, R., <i>The Gentleman’s House</i>,
+2nd ed., London, 1865.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f332'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r332'>332</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Contemporaries saw this house rather as a reaction
+towards the ‘Old English’ after the ‘modernism’
+of the High Victorian Gothic and the
+Second Empire of the preceding decade. How conscious
+Shaw himself was of the significance of his
+own innovations it is difficult to say.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f333'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r333'>333</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The plan was first published by Muthesius in
+1904; this does not mean that its character was not
+known to contemporary architects, however.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f334'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r334'>334</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>By this time photo-lithographic processes
+made it possible for Shaw’s perspectives to appear
+in the <i>Building News</i> practically as facsimiles of his
+originals. Had it been necessary, as in the fifties and
+sixties, to ‘translate’ them into wood-engravings
+the transmission of the Shavian influence abroad
+would certainly have been much less effective.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f335'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r335'>335</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f133' class='c025'><sup>[133]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch06n'>6</a>. The term ‘Eastlake’
+is sometimes rather inaccurately used for the
+Stick Style.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f336'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r336'>336</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Wheeler, G., <i>Rural Houses</i>, New York,
+1851, with later editions to 1868, and his <i>Homes
+for the People in Suburb and Country</i>, New York,
+1855, with later editions to 1867.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f337'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r337'>337</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Gardner, E. C., <i>Homes and How to Build
+Them</i>, Boston, 1874, and also his <i>Illustrated Homes</i>,
+Boston, 1875.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f338'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r338'>338</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Woodward, G. E., <i>Woodward’s Country
+Houses</i>, New York, 1865; <i>Woodward’s Architecture,
+Landscape Gardening and Rural Art</i>, New York,
+1867; <i>Woodward’s Cottage and Farm Houses</i>, New
+York, 1867; and <i>Woodward’s National Architect</i>,
+New York, 1868. Of <i>Woodward’s Country Houses</i>
+there were eight successive editions within a decade,
+thus rivalling in this period the popularity of
+Downing’s <i>Cottage Residences</i> in the forties and
+fifties; however, it is worth noting that the latter
+still remained in print.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f339'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r339'>339</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Sturges, W. K., ‘Long Shadow of Norman
+Shaw: Queen Anne Revival’, <i>Journal of the
+Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span> (1950), 21-5.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f340'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r340'>340</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Scully in <i>The Shingle Style</i> provides evidence
+that the idea of a great hall was not unknown in
+America well before this. It may be unnecessary
+to suppose that Richardson knew of the
+Hinderton plan, since one or two comparable ones
+can be found in books appearing in America in the
+fifties; see, for example, the Nathan Reeve house in
+Newburgh, N.Y., published as ‘Design No. 22’ in
+Vaux, C., <i>Villas and Cottages</i>, New York, 1857.
+However that may be, the great hall theme was
+rarely exploited in Second Empire or Stick Style
+houses of the sixties. It makes a notable appearance
+or re-appearance, as the case may be, in Richardson’s
+planning just after 1870. See Notes VI-4 and
+VIII-2 in the 1961 edition of my Richardson book.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f341'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r341'>341</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The term is Vincent Scully’s. Various
+themes touched on in this and succeeding paragraphs
+are discussed at length in his homonymous
+volume and provided there with a full roster of
+illustrations.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f342'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r342'>342</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is of interest that when the <i>Monograph of
+the Work of McKim, Mead &amp; White</i> was prepared in
+1915 almost all this early work was omitted. It has
+been rediscovered by critics and historians in the
+last thirty years, beginning with Mumford in the
+<i>Brown Decades</i> in 1931.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f343'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r343'>343</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Just how the influence reached American
+architects so early is not altogether clear. The first
+treatise in English on Japanese architecture is Morse,
+E. S., <i>Japanese Homes and Their Surroundings</i>, Boston,
+1886; new ed., New York, 1961. See Lancaster,
+C., ‘Japanese Buildings in the United States before
+1900: Their Influence upon American Domestic
+Architecture’, <i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXV</span> (1953), 217-24.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_458'>458</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f344'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r344'>344</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hitchcock, H. R., ‘Frank Lloyd Wright
+and the “Academic Tradition” in the Nineties’,
+<i>Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes</i>,
+<span class='fss'>VII</span> (1947), 46-63.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f345'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r345'>345</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For an unsuspected but possible influence on
+Wright in this façade, see Gebhard, D., ‘A Note on
+the Chicago Fair of 1893 and Frank Lloyd Wright’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XVIII</span>
+(1959), 63-5.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f346'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r346'>346</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Japanese influence was more evident at the
+Chauncey L. Williams house at 520 Edgewood
+Place in River Forest, Ill., of 1895, notably in the
+use of rough boulders at the foot of the brick wall
+and flanking the entrance. Wright by this time was
+enthusiastically interested in Japanese prints;
+whether he also knew Morse’s book of 1886 (see
+Note 20 <i>supra</i>) is not clear.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f347'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r347'>347</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This was very much extended, but along the
+original lines, in 1901, as shown on Plate 128B. The
+present River Forest Tennis Club, a much smaller
+structure, is not the same, though it bears some
+superficial resemblance to the Golf Club. The building
+of 1898-1901 was demolished in 1905.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f348'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r348'>348</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>I am grateful to John Brandon-Jones for
+allowing me to read the manuscript of his unpublished
+monograph on Voysey. Without his assistance
+of various sorts this account of Voysey could
+not have been written and illustrated.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f349'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r349'>349</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f261' class='c025'><sup>[261]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch12n'>12</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f350'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r350'>350</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The ‘House at Doverscourt for A. J. W.
+Ward’, published in the <i>British Architect</i>, 11 April
+1890, was apparently never executed any more than
+those illustrated the previous year. It is very like
+Perrycroft, built in 1893, the first of Voysey’s important
+country houses, thus suggesting that on
+paper his style had in fact largely crystallized by this
+date before his Forster house was begun. It is of
+interest that the plan of the Ward project is more
+open than those of any of his executed houses; it
+may well have influenced Baillie Scott (see below).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f351'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r351'>351</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Brandon-Jones suggests, however, that the
+very plain Regency villa in which Voysey was then
+living in St John’s Wood may have had some
+generic influence on the Forster house.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f352'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r352'>352</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>At Perrycroft the mullions are of wood,
+originally painted green. At the Forster house they
+were of stone, and that is true of almost all the
+later houses. So also the slates here were Welsh and
+grey; when he began to work in the Lake District he
+turned to green slates, earlier used by Godwin on
+Whistler’s house. These became standard on his
+later houses wherever they were built.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f353'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r353'>353</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a later tribute to his influence and that of
+Baillie Scott abroad, see Fisker, K., ‘Tre pionerer
+fra aarhundredskiftet’, <i>Byggmästaren</i>, 1947, 221-32;
+the third ‘pioneer’, rather surprisingly, is
+Tessenow (see Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f354'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r354'>354</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a remarkable later work of Lethaby, see
+Pevsner, N., ‘Lethaby’s Last’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXX</span> (1961), 354-7. This church, at Brockhampton-by-Ross
+in Herefordshire, was roofed with pre-cast
+concrete slabs at the surprisingly early date of
+1900-2; and its simplified, rather angular, Gothic
+design is, in effect, already proto-Expressionist.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f355'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r355'>355</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘George Walton, His Life
+and Work’, <i>Journal of the Royal Institute of British
+Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>XLVI</span> (1939), 537-48.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f356'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r356'>356</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Voysey was also a notable designer of wallpapers
+and chintzes, perhaps the most notable of his
+generation in England.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch16n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 16 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f357'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r357'>357</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Madsen’s <i>Sources of Art Nouveau</i>, 75-83.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f358'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r358'>358</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schmutzler, R., ‘English Origins of the
+Art Nouveau’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVII</span> (1955),
+108-16. The question is discussed further at a later
+point in this chapter (pp. 284-5).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f359'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r359'>359</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f149' class='c025'><sup>[149]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch07n'>7</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f360'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r360'>360</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The one large structure built for this exhibition
+in permanent form, the Palais du Trocadéro by
+Davioud, has since been replaced. Vaguely Saracenic
+in design, yet not altogether unworthy in silhouette
+of its splendid site on the Chaillot heights,
+this shared none of the qualities of Eiffel’s temporary
+pavilion. See Davioud, G., <i>Le Palais du Trocadéro</i>,
+Paris, 1878. As long as it lasted, however, the
+Trocadéro provided a sort of pendant on this side
+of Paris to Abadie’s Sacré-Cœur atop Montmartre,
+begun in the same rather dreary decade of French
+architectural production.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f361'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r361'>361</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f265' class='c025'><sup>[265]</sup></a>a, Chapter <a href='#ch12n'>12</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f362'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r362'>362</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Alphand, A., <i>L’Exposition universelle de
+Paris de 1889</i>, Paris, 1892.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f363'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r363'>363</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Eiffel, G., <i>La Tour de trois-cents-mètres</i>,
+Paris, 1900.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f364'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r364'>364</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Bogardus’s shot-towers of the fifties in New
+York, which were of essentially similar construction,
+received little contemporary or later publicity.
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_459'>459</span>It is still uncertain whether Jenney knew of them
+when he built the Home Insurance Building in
+Chicago in 1883-5. See T. C. Bannister, ‘Bogardus
+Revisited, Part II’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XVI</span> (1957).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f365'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r365'>365</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f253' class='c025'><sup>[253]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch11n'>11</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f366'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r366'>366</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Grady, J., ‘Bibliography of the Art
+Nouveau’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XIV</span> (1955), 18-27 and <i>Art Nouveau</i> (Museum
+of Modern Art Exhibition Catalogue), New York [1960].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f367'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r367'>367</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This applies particularly to Art Nouveau
+decoration; the major architectural works were
+frequently very plastically organized, although
+most of the detail was linear.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f368'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r368'>368</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schmutzler, R., ‘Blake and the Art
+Nouveau’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVIII</span> (1955),
+90-7.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f369'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r369'>369</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Lancaster, C., ‘Oriental Contributions to
+Art Nouveau’, <i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXIV</span> (1952), 297-310.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f370'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r370'>370</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Grady, J., ‘Nature and the Art Nouveau’,
+<i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXVII</span> (1955), 187-92.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f371'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r371'>371</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Mackmurdo, A. H., <i>Wren’s City Churches</i>,
+Orpington, 1883.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f372'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r372'>372</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Not perhaps impossible: There is something a
+little analogous to Impressionism in the work of
+Shaw, though he probably had no admiration for the
+art of Monet and his contemporaries in the seventies
+even if he was at all aware of it. The same is
+true of the American masters of the Shingle Style.
+The analogy lies in the casual looseness of over-all
+composition and the delicacy of the touch—both
+tile-hanging and shingles provide a certain effect of
+‘broken colour’ or at least ‘tachiste’ brushwork—even
+though they are usually monochrome. On the
+other hand, Kimball in his <i>American Architecture</i>,
+written a generation ago, saw an analogy to Cézanne
+in the return to architectural order in the mid
+eighties in America. There is no evidence that
+McKim or White then admired any French
+painters more advanced than Puvis de Chavannes
+however.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f373'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r373'>373</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Some studio houses were certainly built in
+France by leading architects throughout the second
+half of the nineteenth century: The one that
+Viollet-le-Duc provided for the painter Constant
+Troyon in the late fifties was of notable interest—in
+fact, one of his best works. Moreover, the more
+modest <i>ateliers d’ artiste</i> erected by builders provided
+much later, in the 1920s, precedents of value to
+Le Corbusier and Lurçat. See Banham, R., ‘Ateliers
+d’artiste’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXX</span> (1956), 75-83.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f374'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r374'>374</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Delhaye, J., ‘Hommage à mon maître;
+architecte Baron Victor Horta’, <i>L’Appartement
+d’aujourd’hui</i>, Liège, 1946, 6-17; Maus, O., ‘Habitations
+modernes, Victor Horta’, <i>L’Art moderne</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XX</span> (1900), 221-3; Sedeyn, E., ‘Victor Horta’,
+<i>L’Art décoratif</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span> (1902), 230-42; and Madsen,
+S. T., ‘Horta. Works and Style of Victor Horta
+before 1900’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVIII</span> (1955),
+388-92.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f375'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r375'>375</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Koch, R., and others, <i>Louis Comfort
+Tiffany 1848-1933</i>, New York, 1958.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f376'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r376'>376</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The wallpaper was probably one of those
+designed by Heywood Sumner, possibly his ‘Tulip’
+according to Elizabeth Aslin of the Victoria and
+Albert Museum. This was one of the considerable
+range of English papers shown by Jeffrey &amp; Company
+at the Salon de l’Association pour l’Art
+d’Anvers in Antwerp in the winter of 1892-3.
+These papers, which included designs by most of
+the English leaders in the field of decorative art,
+had already been shown at the Paris Exposition of
+1889. It is hard to believe that Horta became aware
+of them only when the Tassel house was nearly
+finished and not earlier in Antwerp or in Paris. For
+the Antwerp showing, see Van de Velde, H.,
+‘Artistic Wallpapers’, <i>L’Art moderne</i>, <span class='fss'>XIII</span> (1893),
+193-5. This article was copied in <i>L’Emulation</i>, <span class='fss'>XVIII</span>
+(1893), 150-1, the most advanced Belgian architectural
+journal, where the Tassel house itself was
+published in 1895. It introduces the name of another
+important Belgian figure besides Horta in
+the story of the Art Nouveau.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f377'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r377'>377</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is of interest, although irrelevant to the inception
+of the Art Nouveau, that in this same year
+Horta became professor of architecture at the
+Académie like Balat before him.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f378'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r378'>378</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Kaufmann, E., ‘224 Avenue Louise’,
+<i>Interiors</i>, 116 (1957), 88-93.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f379'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r379'>379</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a late tribute to Van de Velde in English,
+see Shand, P. M., <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXII</span> (1952),
+143-55. It is a major error of emphasis—and in detail
+an accumulation of errors of fact—that H. Lenning
+offers in his book <i>The Art Nouveau</i> (The
+Hague, 1951) by accepting the legend that Van de
+Velde was the initiator of the Art Nouveau. There
+is plenty of evidence that Van de Velde was aware
+of English innovations in decoration from the early
+nineties. On the other hand, despite the wallpaper
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_460'>460</span>in the Tassel dining-room, it should be noted that
+Horta’s widow and his disciple Delhaye minimize,
+to the point of denying all but absolutely, the dependence
+of Horta on English sources at the time
+he designed the Tassel house.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f380'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r380'>380</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Paul Hankar (1861-1901) was a third Belgian
+architectural innovator in this period. His
+work, however, is so crude and uneven that his
+name need be no more than mentioned. He is in no
+proper sense an exponent of the Art Nouveau. See
+Conrady, C., and Thibaux, R., <i>Paul Hankar</i>, [n.p.] 1923.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch17n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 17 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f381'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r381'>381</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Malton, J., ‘Art Nouveau in Essex’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVI</span> (1959), 100-4. For a considerably
+earlier and more extraordinary example
+of English work approaching the Art Nouveau,
+see Beazley, E., ‘Watts Chapel’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXX</span> (1961), 166-72. This chapel at Compton,
+Surrey, was designed in 1896 by Mary Watts,
+the widow of the painter G. F. Watts. The inspiration
+seems to have been predominantly Norse and
+Celtic.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f382'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r382'>382</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Gout, P., <i>L’Architecture au XX<sup>e</sup> siècle et
+l’Art Nouveau</i>, Paris, 1903.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f383'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r383'>383</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Hostingue, G. d’, <i>Le Castel Béranger,
+œuvre de H. G., architecte</i>, Paris, 1898.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f384'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r384'>384</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Both the main façade and the principal interior
+are essentially the work of Deglane. Louvet
+and Thomas were more responsible for other elements
+of the complex structure.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f385'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r385'>385</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>L’architecture moderne à Paris, concours de
+façades</i>, 2 vols, Paris, 1901, 1902.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f386'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r386'>386</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Uhry, E., ‘Agrandissements des magasins
+de la Samaritaine’, <i>L’Architecte</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span> (1907), 13-14, 20,
+plates <span class='fss'>X-XII</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f387'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r387'>387</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>I owe my knowledge of this remarkable façade
+to Martin Kermacy. He was unable to find out by
+whom and when it was built; it is very probably
+an early work of Josef Urban, Novotny informs
+me.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f388'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r388'>388</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For another rather independent Scottish
+architect of this period, see Walker, D. M.,
+‘Lamond of Dundee’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXIII</span>
+(1958), 269-71.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f389'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r389'>389</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Scheichenbauer, M., <i>Alfredo Campanini</i>,
+Milan, 1958.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f390'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r390'>390</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f259' class='c025'><sup>[259]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch11n'>11</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f391'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r391'>391</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Among other things, it is Gaudi’s use of forms
+inspired by primitive architecture that has appealed
+to later twentieth-century taste. ‘Primitivism’ in
+painting and sculpture has been of recurrent importance
+since the days of the Fauves and the Expressionists;
+a comparable primitivism in architecture
+has been much rarer, except for Gaudí.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f392'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r392'>392</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Except as regards the theories of vaulting
+exemplified in successive schemes for the Sagrada
+Familia and his church at Santa Coloma de Cervelló,
+Gaudí’s technical innovations have been until lately
+little studied despite the very considerable literature
+devoted to his work. Research is proving that he
+made many important innovations in structure
+over and above those so evident in the crypt—the
+only portion executed—of the Santa Coloma
+church. George Collins showed some of the
+results, as yet unpublished, of the latest studies in
+an exhibition at Columbia University in May 1962.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f393'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r393'>393</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>While the mosaic of broken fragments of patterned
+ceramic on the benches at the Parc Güell
+suggests Cubist <i>collages</i> and even Dada compositions—notably
+the <i>Merzbilder</i> of Kurt Schwitters—the
+handling of the coloured glass on this façade
+is closer to the paintings of Jackson Pollock and
+other New York artists of the 1950s.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f394'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r394'>394</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>A curious continuation, or more accurately
+revival, of Gaudian modes has of late occurred in
+Portuguese Africa. See Beinart, J., ‘Amancio
+Guedes, Architect of Lourenço Marques’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXIX</span> (1961), 240-51.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f395'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r395'>395</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Even Gaudí after 1910 produced little, being
+almost wholly occupied with the slow progress of
+the Sagrada Familia. Of course, in a sense Horta is
+another exception; but his success after 1910 was of
+purely local significance and dependent on his total
+rejection of the Art Nouveau of his youth. One can
+only think of the later career of Giorgio de Chirico,
+still today a success in Italy but ignored by the outside
+world except when he imitates his earlier
+work.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch18n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 18 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f396'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r396'>396</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Concrete and Constructional Engineering</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>
+(January 1956), special anniversary number reviewing
+the history of concrete. More important
+later studies are: Raafat, A. A., <i>Reinforced Concrete
+in Architecture</i>, New York [1958]; and Collins, P.,
+<i>Concrete, The Vision of a New Architecture</i>, New
+York [1959]. See also Kramer, E. W., and Raafat,
+A. A., ‘The Ward House, Pioneer Structure of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_461'>461</span>Reinforced Concrete’, <i>Journal of the Society of
+Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1961), 34-7.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f397'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r397'>397</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Baudot, A. de, <i>L’Architecture, le passé, le
+présent</i>, Paris, 1916, and Baudot, J. de, <i>L’Architecture
+et le béton armé</i>, Paris, 1916.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f398'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r398'>398</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Huxtable, A. L., ‘Progressive Architecture
+in America: Reinforced Concrete Construction.
+The work of Ernest L. Ransome, Engineer—1884-1911’
+and ‘Factory for Packard Motor Car Company—1905,
+Detroit, Michigan, Albert Kahn,
+Architect. Ernest Wilby, Associate’, <i>Progressive
+Architecture</i>, 38 (1957), 139-42 and 121-2.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>Such research is revealing that Albert Kahn
+(1869-1942) was not such a pioneer in concrete
+factory construction as has been generally supposed.
+However, the ‘Kahn Bar’ developed by his
+brothers’ engineering firm was a major technical
+contribution, and undoubtedly his motor-car
+factories were among the earliest major industrial
+works in the new material. For the alternative use
+of steel in American warehouse and factory construction,
+see Eaton, L. K., ‘Frame of Steel’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVI</span> (1959), 289-90.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f399'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r399'>399</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The detailed history of the concrete grain elevator
+cannot be given here. The prototypes for
+the great monuments of Buffalo, Minneapolis,
+and Duluth were certainly French. These monolithic
+cylinders are, of course, very different from
+the motor-car factories with their post-and-lintel
+construction, but the history of the elevator undoubtedly
+runs nearly parallel to that of the factory.
+See [Torbert, D. R.] <i>A Century of Minnesota Architecture</i>,
+Minneapolis, 1958, unpaged.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f400'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r400'>400</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In the last few years the innovations of such
+engineers as Pierluigi Nervi (b. 1891) in Italy,
+Eduardo Torroja (1899-1961) in Spain, and Felix
+Candela (b. 1910) in Mexico have revolutionized
+earlier conceptions of the possibilities of ferro-concrete
+(see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a>). For Torroja, see <i>The
+Structures of Eduardo Torroja</i>, New York [1960], and
+Torroja, E., <i>The Philosophy of Structures</i>, Berkeley,
+1958. (See <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.)</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f401'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r401'>401</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pfammatter, P., <i>Betonkirchen</i>, Cologne
+and Zurich, 1948.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f402'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r402'>402</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>By reaction many of the same architects,
+notably Le Corbusier, have in the last few years
+consciously sought the brutality of industrial concrete
+finish—he calls it <i>béton brut</i>—even in monumental
+work (see Chapter <a href='#ch25'>25</a> and <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f403'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r403'>403</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The atelier was founded in 1928.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f404'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r404'>404</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The team that worked with Perret on Le
+Havre consisted of P. Branche, P. Dubouillon, P.
+Feuillebois, A. Heaume, J. Imbert, M. Kaeppelin,
+G. Lagneau, M. Lotte, P.-E. Lambert, A. Le
+Donné, A. Persitz, J. Poirrier, H. Tougard, and J.
+Tournant, all of whom seem to have shared responsibility
+for the buildings flanking the Place de
+l’Hôtel de Ville. Poirrier, Le Donné, and Lambert
+were, however, joint architects-in-chief. Specific
+attributions are perhaps not very significant in
+this kind of situation, but the characteristic Hôtel
+Normandie (1950) is by Poirrier and the whole
+sea front by Lambert.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f405'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r405'>405</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Garnier, T., <i>Une Cité industrielle</i>, Paris
+[1918]. The basic project goes back to 1901, but
+was much elaborated in the intervening years. Although
+it was unpublished, many architects were
+certainly familiar with its general character. See
+Wiebenson, D., ‘Utopian Aspects of Garnier’s
+Cité Industrielle’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 16-24.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f406'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r406'>406</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Garnier, T., <i>Les Grands Travaux de la ville
+de Lyon</i>, Paris, 1919.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f407'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r407'>407</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This applies particularly to the work of
+Michel Roux-Spitz (b. 1888), who became in the
+thirties the acknowledged leader of the profession
+in France.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch19n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 19 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f408'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r408'>408</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Zevi, B., <i>Verso un’architettura organica</i>,
+Turin, 1945; English translation, <i>Towards an
+Organic Architecture</i>, London, 1950.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f409'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r409'>409</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pellegrini, L., ‘La decorazione funzionale
+del primo Wright’, <i>L’Architettura</i> (1956), 198-203.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f410'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r410'>410</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Wright’s ‘Baroque’ period, running for
+approximately ten years from 1914 to 1924,
+parallels the Expressionist episode in European
+modern architecture (see Chapters <a href='#ch21'>21</a> and <a href='#ch22'>22</a>). That
+may be considered to open with van der Meij’s
+Scheepvaarthuis of 1912-13 in Amsterdam and to
+run out in general sometime in the mid twenties.
+It is not apparent that there was any influence of
+consequence either way; indeed, the effect of studying
+Wright’s work in the war years and the early
+twenties was rather adverse to Expressionism and
+related tendencies, particularly in Holland where
+Wright’s influence was strongest.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f411'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r411'>411</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Life</i>, <span class='fss'>V</span> (26 Sep. 1938), 60-1.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f412'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r412'>412</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Ladies Home Journal</i>, February 1901; June
+1901; April 1907.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_462'>462</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f413'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r413'>413</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Wright, F. Ll., <i>The Story of the Tower</i>, New
+York, 1956.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f414'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r414'>414</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Wright had a tendency to scoff at the work of
+his former junior associates and to deny the reality
+of their discipleship. There are at present in practice a
+good many architects who have been for shorter or
+longer periods at Taliesin, where the Fellowship has
+at times since the Second World War included over
+sixty. Those who were at Taliesin some time ago
+have naturally made the greater mark, since many
+of the post-war members of the Fellowship had,
+in the mid 1950s, only just begun their own practice.
+Alden Dow (b. 1904) in Midland, Michigan,
+and Henry Klumb (b. 1905) in San Juan, Puerto
+Rico, have over the last few years the greatest
+volume of work of more-or-less Wrightian inspiration
+to their credit. But it must not be forgotten
+that Richard J. Neutra (b. 1892), whose work is
+of a very different order, was also for a time with
+Wright; while there are some architects whose
+work is Wrightian to the point of parody who have
+never had any direct contact with Wright at all.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f415'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r415'>415</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Richard E. Schmidt (1865-1959) and Hugh
+M. G. Garden (1873-1961).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f416'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r416'>416</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The contribution of these men is only beginning
+to receive the study which it merits now the
+realization is growing that American architecture
+was far less dominated by traditionalism in the
+first quarter of the twentieth century, particularly
+in the Middle West and on the Pacific Coast, than
+has generally been supposed in the last thirty
+years. See Brooks, A., ‘The Early Work of the
+Prairie Architects’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 2-10.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f417'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r417'>417</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Thompson, E., ‘The Early Domestic
+Architecture of the San Francisco Bay Region’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>X</span>
+(1951), 15-21; Bangs, J. M., ‘Bernard Ralph Maybeck,
+Architect, Comes into His Own’, <i>Architectural
+Record</i>, <span class='fss'>CIII</span> (1948), 72-9, and ‘Greene and
+Greene’, <i>Architectural Forum</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXXIX</span> (1948), 80-9;
+McCoy, E., <i>Five California Architects</i>, New York,
+1960; and Woodbridge, J. M. and S. B., <i>Buildings
+of the Bay Area, a Guide to the Architecture of the San
+Francisco Bay Region</i>, New York, 1960, which
+covers both earlier and later work.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f418'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r418'>418</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Price, C., ‘Panama-Californian Exposition:
+Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue and the Renaissance
+of Spanish-Colonial Architecture’, <i>Architectural
+Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXXVII</span> (1915), 229-51.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f419'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r419'>419</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Macomber, B., <i>The Jewel City, its Planning
+and Achievement</i>..., San Francisco, 1915.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f420'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r420'>420</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Lancaster, C., ‘The American Bungalow’,
+<i>Art Bulletin</i>, <span class='fss'>XL</span> (1958), 239-53.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f421'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r421'>421</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>That is, on the West Coast; considered as an
+alternative to the ‘International Style’ suitable for
+emulation everywhere, as it was for a few years, it
+had no more validity than any other regional mode.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch20n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 20 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f422'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r422'>422</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Reviving interest in Expressionism has already
+led to considerable significant publication. See, for
+example, Dorfles, G., <i>Barocco nell’architettura
+moderna</i>, Milan, 1951, especially the second part;
+Gregotti, G., ‘L’Architettura del’Espressionismo’,
+<i>Casabella</i>, August 1961, <a href='#f260' class='c025'><sup>[260]</sup></a>-48; Conrads, U., and
+Sperlich, H. G., <i>Phantastische Architektur</i>, Stuttgart,
+[1960]; and, for a particularly significant figure,
+Joedicke, J., ‘Haering at Garkau’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVII</span> (1960), 313-18. For a remarkable
+Expressionist publication by an architect who was
+very active and influential in Germany in the 1920s,
+see Taut, B., <i>Die Stadtkrone</i>, Jena, 1919.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f423'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r423'>423</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For the development of Van de Velde’s ideas
+in these years see <i>Die Renaissance im modernen
+Kunstgewerbe</i>, Berlin, 1901, and <i>Vom neuen Stil</i>,
+Leipzig, 1907. Van de Velde was a prolific writer,
+and it is impossible to give a complete list of his
+books and articles here. They will be found in
+Madsen’s <i>Sources of Art Nouveau</i>, 469.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f424'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r424'>424</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bauer, C. K., <i>Modern Housing</i>, Boston
+and New York, 1934; and my <i>Early Victorian
+Architecture in Britain</i>, Chapters <span class='fss'>XIII</span> and <span class='fss'>XIV</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f425'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r425'>425</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Schumacher, F., <i>Das Wesen des neuzeitlichen
+Backsteinbaues</i>, Munich, 1917. The rich and
+decorative use of brick is as characteristic of the
+Hamburg School as of the Amsterdam School in
+these decades (see Chapter <a href='#ch21'>21</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f426'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r426'>426</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bie, O., <i>Der Architekt Oskar Kaufmann</i>,
+Berlin, 1928; Hegemann, W., <i>German Bestelmeyer</i>,
+Berlin [n.d.] and Mayer, H., and Rehdern, G.,
+<i>Wilhelm Kreis</i>, Essen, 1953. In the twenties a large
+number of such well-illustrated monographs on individual
+German architects were published; it is
+much more difficult to find adequate documentation
+on the work of several architects in other countries
+who are of considerably greater originality and
+historical importance.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_463'>463</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f427'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r427'>427</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Paraboloid domes of ferro-concrete were used
+with brilliant spatial effect by Jacques Droz (b.
+1882) at Sainte-Jeanne-d’Arc in Nice. This was
+built in 1932, just at the same time that Böhm was
+building Sankt Engelbert. The plan, consisting of
+three intersecting ellipses, is very nearly identical
+with that of J. B. Neumann’s Baroque masterpiece
+Vierzehnheiligen; the result is very different,
+however, because of the continuity of the walls and
+roof here. Unfortunately Droz’s church was elaborated
+with a tower and other features of a rather
+‘Jazz-Modern’ order.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f428'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r428'>428</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Another German church-architect of the
+twenties who has still a very considerable reputation
+is Otto Bartning (b. 1883). He moved much
+earlier in this direction than Böhm. For a statement
+of his intentions, see Bartning, O., <i>Vom neuen
+Kirchbau</i>, Berlin, 1919.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f429'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r429'>429</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>Maria Königin</i> [Cologne, n.d.].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f430'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r430'>430</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This is not the place to discuss these churches.
+It may be remarked here, however, that Candela’s
+church is considerably more Expressionist in appearance,
+especially the interior, than anything
+Böhm ever built in the twenties. Yet its strangely
+angular piers and vaults that <i>look</i> so much like the
+settings for the ‘Cabinet of Dr Caligari’, the most
+famous German Expressionist film, result from
+this engineer’s consistent use of the hyperbolic
+paraboloid forms which he favours primarily for
+technical reasons. De la Mora, Niemeyer, and
+Moya were content to use barrel-vault elements of
+plain parabolic section such as were first introduced
+by Böhm in 1925-6.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f431'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r431'>431</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The triangular bay-window lighting the
+stairs is still somewhat Expressionist, but the interior
+treatment is in general more related to geometrical
+abstract art. The decoration approaches what came
+to be known as ‘Jazz-Modern’ when it became
+vulgarized in the next ten years or so in England.
+The contrast of the interiors that Behrens designed
+with the fine examples of Mackintosh’s furniture,
+brought from a house that he had remodelled
+earlier for the Bassett-Lowkes, appears rather shocking
+a generation later. What must have been considered
+a bit <i>démodé</i> in 1925 now represents to posterity—at
+least in the field of furniture design—the
+main line of advance in the early twentieth century;
+what then seemed in England to be ‘the last
+word’ has dated badly.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f432'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r432'>432</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>‘New Objectivity’: A generic term for some
+of the advanced movements that succeeded Expressionism
+in the arts; in architecture, roughly equivalent
+to ‘Functionalism’.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch21n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 21 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f433'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r433'>433</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The use of aluminium in architecture became
+widespread only some forty years later, it should be
+noted, although it had supplied the cap of the
+pyramid with which T. L. Casey finally completed
+the Washington Monument as early as 1884—its
+first use in architecture. In the nineties Thomas
+Harris already foresaw its great importance in building;
+see his <i>Three Periods of English Architecture</i>,
+London, 1894.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f434'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r434'>434</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See ‘Ornament und Verbrechen’ in Loos, A.,
+<i>Trotzdem: Gesammelte Aufsätze 1900-1930</i>, Innsbruck,
+1931, first published in the <i>Neue Freie Presse</i>
+in January 1908. A French translation of the article
+appeared in <i>L’Esprit nouveau</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1920), 159-68.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f435'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r435'>435</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Considering that Wright’s open planning had
+by no means matured while Loos was in Chicago,
+American influence (if any) came probably from the
+houses of the Shingle Style. Because of his close
+<i>rapport</i> with England, however, one may assume
+that the influence of Baillie Scott’s plans was more
+important; while the treatment of interior trim
+comes closest to Voysey, as has been noted.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f436'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r436'>436</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The recurrent suggestions of Richardsonian
+influence in Europe in the nineties are not yet adequately
+explained. Townsend in England knew of
+Richardson’s work from American and English
+publications, and there was in England one house
+by Richardson, Lululund at Bushey, Herts, now
+largely destroyed except for the entrance. This was
+designed shortly before Richardson’s death for Sir
+Hubert von Herkomer, who had painted his portrait,
+and executed without supervision. Boberg
+had been for a short while in Chicago and Bruno
+Schmitz (1858-1916) in Indianapolis; but there are
+others whose work also seems somewhat Richardsonian,
+such as Theodor Fischer, who certainly had
+not. Berlage did not visit America until 1911, when
+it was Wright’s work that most impressed him.
+He and Fischer might, of course, have known
+Richardson’s buildings from publications. For
+foreign publications of Richardson’s work before
+1900, see pp. 333-5 in the 1961 edition of my
+Richardson book.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f437'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r437'>437</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Berlage, H. P., <i>Gedanken über den Stil in
+der Baukunst</i>, Leipzig, 1905; <i>Grundlagen und Entwicklung
+der Architektur</i>, Amsterdam, 1908; German
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_464'>464</span>ed., Berlin, 1908; and <i>Studies over Bouwkunst</i>,
+Rotterdam, 1910.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f438'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r438'>438</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The work of K. P. C. de Bazel (1869-1923), a
+pupil of Cuijpers who represents a rather different
+stream in Dutch architecture of the early twentieth
+century, is especially close to that of the contemporary
+German leaders but hardly at all related to
+Expressionism. His massive office building for the
+Nederlandsche Handel Maatschappij in Amsterdam
+of 1917-23 is quite similar to Behrens’s nearly contemporary
+office blocks in Hanover and Düsseldorf,
+but much more intricate and inventive in its brick-and-stone
+detail.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f439'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r439'>439</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Although it is unlikely that de Klerk actually
+owed anything to the sets that Bakst, Benois, and
+others were designing for the Ballet Russe, the
+visual investiture of the Diaghilev productions certainly
+had a loosening effect on Western European
+taste in these years just before the First World War.
+For the first time Russia impinged visually on
+European art, but that impingement had only an
+oblique effect on architecture, for the art that was
+exported was not, of course, very architectural.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f440'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r440'>440</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>American Architect</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVIII</span> (5 October
+1925).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f441'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r441'>441</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See ‘The American Radiator Company Building,
+New York’, <i>American Architect</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVI</span> (1924),
+467-84.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f442'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r442'>442</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is this that makes it so difficult to decide
+which architects should be discussed in
+Chapters <a href='#ch18'>18</a>-<a href='#ch21'>21</a> and which in Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>.
+No two critics will
+agree, but most now recognize that the boundary
+line is not a sharp one. For this reason in <i>Modern
+Architecture</i>, published thirty years ago, I labelled
+the work of this generation ‘The New Tradition’
+and did not then reject the work of the Scandinavians
+as too ‘traditional’ to be classed, broadly
+at least, with that of Wright, Perret, Behrens,
+Wagner, and Loos, as I have done here.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch22n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 22 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f443'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r443'>443</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>That is, Barr proposed the title <i>The International
+Style</i> for the book prepared by myself and
+Philip Johnson to go with this Exhibition, drawing
+the word ‘international’ from the title of Gropius’s
+<i>Internationale Architektur</i>. For various reasons the
+name ‘International Style’ has often been castigated
+since 1932; yet it is still recurrently used, with
+or without apology, by many critics. The term is,
+for example, used in English and in a rather unflattering
+sense by Gillo Dorfles in <i>L’ Architettura
+moderna</i>—one chapter is entitled ‘“L’lnternational
+Style” ed i nuovi regionalismi’—with no indication
+of its origin. Since this term had rather generally
+acquired a pejorative meaning, I avoided using
+it as far as possible in this book, preferring the
+vaguer but less controversial phrase ‘modern
+architecture of the second generation’ despite its
+clumsiness. For the possible claim that the original
+meaning of ‘International Style’, as used by Barr,
+Johnson, and myself, still retained some validity
+in the early fifties, see my article ‘The “International
+Style” Twenty Years After’, <i>Architectural
+Record</i>, <span class='fss'>CX</span> (1952), 89-97. (See <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.)</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f444'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r444'>444</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Roggero, M. F., <i>Il Contributo di Mendelsohn
+alla evoluzione dell’ architettura moderna</i>, Milan [1952].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f445'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r445'>445</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Jaffé, H. L. C., <i>De Stijl, 1917-1931</i>, London [1956],
+and Zevi, B., <i>Poetica dell’ architettura
+neoplastica</i>, Milan, 1935.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f446'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r446'>446</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Mendelsohn, E., <i>Bauten und Skizzen</i>, Berlin,
+1923; and English ed., <i>Buildings and Sketches</i>,
+London, 1923.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f447'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r447'>447</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The whole question of Expressionism in architecture
+is still a difficult one despite a renewed critical
+interest in the intentions and achievements
+of the architects influenced by the movement (see
+Note <a href='#f422' class='c025'><sup>[422]</sup></a> to Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>). As will shortly be noted,
+Gropius and Mies van der Rohe were both briefly
+affected by Expressionist concepts and used forms
+of distinctly Expressionist character in the years
+1919-21.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f448'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r448'>448</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>An earlier Goetheanum of 1913-20, which
+was destroyed by fire, had been largely of wood.
+It was not at all like Mendelsohn’s Einstein Tower
+but still somewhat Art Nouveau. See Brunati and
+Mendini, <i>Steiner</i>, Milan [n.d.], for both versions.
+See also Steiner, R., <i>Wege zu einem neuen Baustil</i>,
+Dornach, 1926 (Eng. trans., London-New York,
+1927), and <i>Der Baugedanke des Goetheanum</i>, Dornach,
+1932; and Rosenkrantz, A., <i>The Goetheanum
+as a New Impulse in Art</i>, [London, n.d.].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f449'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r449'>449</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a late reassessment of that influence, see
+Jordan, R. F., ‘Dudok’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXV</span>
+(1954), 237-42.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f450'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r450'>450</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>It is probable that Mendelsohn’s early projects
+and also the tower had some influence on the later
+development of ‘streamlining’ in industrial design.
+See Banham, R., ‘Machine-aesthetic’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVII</span> (1955), 224-8.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_465'>465</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f451'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r451'>451</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This sort of enclosure has come of late to be
+called a ‘curtain-wall’. Some of the skyscrapers of
+the nineties in Chicago, most notably Beman’s
+Studebaker Building of 1895 and Holabird &amp;
+Roche’s McClurg Building of 1899, approached it
+very closely, yet in them the actual supporting
+piers remained in the façade plane as at the Fagus
+Factory and thus the ‘curtain’ was interrupted, not
+continuous horizontally. The first true example of
+the curtain-wall applied to a large urban structure
+followed within a few years after the Fagus Factory,
+and certainly with no influence from it; this is the
+Hallidie Building in San Francisco, completed by
+Willis Polk (1867-1924) in 1918 immediately after
+the First World War. But see p. 238 and Note 9 to
+Chapter <a href='#ch14'>14</a> for Oriel Chambers of 1864-5.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f452'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r452'>452</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f454' class='c025'><sup>[454]</sup></a>, below.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f453'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r453'>453</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Popp, J., <i>Bruno Paul</i>, Munich.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f454'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r454'>454</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>To those historians of modern architecture
+who find its relevant prehistory largely in the
+technical developments of the previous century and
+a half, the Fagus Factory is the more important; to
+those who accept that the architecture of the mid
+twentieth century had aesthetic as well as technical
+roots, the special ‘classicism’ of Mies’s project, like
+Wright’s contact with the American ‘Academic
+Tradition’ of the nineties, seems perhaps at least as
+important. The thesis of the late Emil Kaufmann,
+adumbrated in a series of books from his <i>Von
+Ledoux bis Le Corbusier</i> of 1931 to his posthumous
+<i>Architecture in the Age of Reason</i> of 1955, stresses—indeed
+overstresses—the relevance of the theories
+and projects of the revolutionary architects of the
+late eighteenth century to the new architecture of
+the twentieth century. If it ever becomes possible
+to subsume historically under a single rubric the
+‘traditional’ and the ‘advanced’ architecture of the
+first quarter of the twentieth century, the ‘classicism’
+and ‘academicism’ of Wright, Wagner,
+Mies, and Le Corbusier as well as of Perret and
+Behrens will prove as significant as the technical
+feats of those architects who erected the last great
+railway stations in these years and the tallest skyscrapers.
+Lest the issue seem a simple dichotomy,
+Mies’s respect for Berlage’s structuralism should also
+be remembered at this point; as also the Expressionism
+which influenced both Gropius and Mies after
+the First World War, not to speak of Wright’s
+‘Baroque’ phase of 1914-24.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f455'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r455'>455</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Le Corbusier’s first publication was an <i>Étude
+sur le mouvement d’art décoratif en Allemagne</i>, La
+Chaux de Fond, 1912, giving evidence of his
+closer <i>rapport</i> with Central European than with
+Parisian currents at this point in his life.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f456'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r456'>456</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For the early work of Le Corbusier, hitherto
+almost entirely unpublished, see <i>Perspecta</i>, 6 (1961),
+28-33.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f457'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r457'>457</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Le Corbusier’s relations with Loos were
+very close for a year or two after Loos settled in
+Paris in 1923. But he undoubtedly knew of Loos’s
+work well before the First World War, having
+been for a short stay in Vienna in 1908, at which
+time he had already begun to react against the
+dominant decorative emphasis in the work of Hoffmann
+and the Wiener Werkstätte.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f458'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r458'>458</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>As has been noted, Garnier’s book on the
+‘Cité Industrielle’ did not appear until 1918, but his
+projects had long been generally known in Paris.
+His work attracted more attention in the early
+twenties, thanks to his own publication <i>Les Grands
+Travaux de la ville de Lyon</i>, Paris, 1919, and an
+article by Jean Badovici, ‘L’Œuvre de Tony
+Gamier’, in <i>L’Architecture vivante</i>, Autumn-Winter
+1924.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f459'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r459'>459</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f455' class='c025'><sup>[455]</sup></a>, <i>supra</i>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f460'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r460'>460</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f445' class='c025'><sup>[445]</sup></a>, <i>supra</i>. Also relevant is my book
+<i>Painting towards Architecture</i>, New York, 1948.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f461'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r461'>461</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Several years earlier, possibly even before he
+actually joined <i>De Stijl</i>, Rietveld had designed and
+executed a remarkable ‘Red-Blue’ chair in which
+many aspects of the three-dimensional aesthetic of
+the group were already realized.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f462'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r462'>462</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The first number is not dated and may have
+appeared in 1919.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f463'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r463'>463</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Bayer, H., and others, <i>Bauhaus 1919-28</i>,
+New York, 1938.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f464'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r464'>464</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The mixed character of Bauhaus theory and
+production in the early years is well illustrated in
+Gropius, W., <i>Staatliches Bauhaus, 1919-1923</i>,
+Munich [1923].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f465'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r465'>465</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The effect of van Doesburg’s visit to Germany
+remains controversial. Although Gropius
+denies, or at any rate minimizes, its importance to
+the Bauhaus group—and, indeed, personally disliked
+van Doesburg—critics and historians mostly
+believe the influence of Neoplasticism to have been
+at least as significant at this point as that of the
+Russian Constructivists. See Zevi, B., ‘L’Insegnamento
+critico di Theo van Doesburg’, <i>Metron</i>, <span class='fss'>VII</span>
+(1951), 21-37.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'><span class='pageno' id='Page_466'>466</span>It is not without significance that Gropius included
+in 1926 Oud’s <i>Holländische Architektur</i> in the
+series of Bauhausbücher which he edited. That
+certainly proves a special respect for the <i>De Stijl</i>-nurtured
+modern architecture of Holland at the
+time.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f466'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r466'>466</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Like Le Corbusier’s window-walls, these
+horizontal strip-windows, usually called ‘ribbon-windows’
+in English, can be traced back at least
+as far as Shaw’s work of the sixties, though all the
+intervening links are not yet clearly identified.
+Their analogy with ‘Chicago windows’ is closest
+and, indeed, Sullivan’s Carson, Pirie &amp; Scott
+façades, with their wide windows crisply cut in the
+smooth terracotta wall-plane, are amazingly premonitory
+of the characteristic new window-banded
+façades of the twenties. Before this time
+window-strips were always subdivided by relatively
+heavy mullions in the plane of the wall, as in
+Voysey’s houses, or set behind ranges of colonnettes
+or other supports, as they were still in the
+clerestory of Wright’s Unity Church.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f467'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r467'>467</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This special vision of America is well illustrated
+in books of the twenties by European architectural
+visitors; see Mendelsohn, E., <i>Amerika.
+Bilderbuch eines Architekten</i>, Berlin, 1926, and
+Neutra, R., <i>Wie baut Amerika?</i> Stuttgart, 1927.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f468'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r468'>468</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The preoccupation with the shapes of things
+that move—which architecture does not—reflects
+doubtless the motion-aesthetic of the Futurists.
+How well Le Corbusier knew the pre-war projects
+of the brilliant Italian Antonio Sant’Elia is not clear.
+But his own aesthetic is less related to the particular
+forms found in Sant’Elia’s designs for buildings
+than to generalized Futurist dreams of speed and
+technical modernity. See also Note <a href='#f495' class='c025'><sup>[495]</sup></a> to
+Chapter <a href='#ch23n'>23</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f469'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r469'>469</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>However, Le Corbusier’s sketch books make
+evident that he had used his eyes to advantage on a
+very wide range of buildings in the Mediterranean
+world on his early travels, from peasant huts to
+the Parthenon, the Campidoglio, and Versailles. His
+attitude towards the past was very different, evidently,
+from that of the Futurists, of which a somewhat
+closer reflection is to be found in the doctrines
+of Gropius.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f470'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r470'>470</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Throughout this period, and indeed down to
+1943, Le Corbusier practised in partnership with
+his cousin Pierre Jeanneret (b. 1896); technically
+most of his work should therefore be attributed to
+‘Le Corbusier &amp; Jeanneret’. No attempt has yet
+been made by critics or historians to determine to
+what extent Jeanneret deserves credit for the work
+of the firm, nor to evaluate the work he has since
+done independently.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f471'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r471'>471</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Roth, A., <i>Zwei Wohnhäuser von Le
+Corbusier und Pierre Jeanneret</i>, Stuttgart, 1927.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f472'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r472'>472</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The open plan of the Vaucresson house was
+more significant than the treatment of the exterior;
+that was ‘scraped’ of all features in a Loos-like way,
+yet still quite symmetrical, at least on the garden
+side.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>The studio-house for Ozenfant, built on a very
+restricted corner site, was too special in its vertical
+organization to be very influential. Although today
+in good general condition, the very ‘industrial’
+saw-toothed skylights on the roof have been removed
+and the terrace surrounded with a crude railing.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f473'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r473'>473</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Confused by Le Corbusier’s description of
+his houses as <i>machines à habiter</i> and the general
+‘machinolatry’ of much of his early writing, many
+have mistakenly supposed that his was a machine-aesthetic.
+Just how to define his aesthetic other than
+by begging the question and merely calling it ‘Corbusian’
+is, however, far from clear. For an analysis
+stressing Le Corbusier’s ‘formalism’, but not in the
+pejorative sense of Stalinist criticism, see Rowe, C.,
+‘Mannerism and Modern Architecture’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CVII</span> (1950), 289-300.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f474'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r474'>474</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Le Corbusier’s personal system of proportion,
+first used for the 1916 house, gradually crystallized
+into a very detailed mathematical scheme which
+has been made generally available in his books
+<i>Le Modular</i>, Boulogne-sur-Seine, 1950; English
+ed., London, 1954; and <i>Modular II</i>, London,
+1958.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f475'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r475'>475</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Moussinac, L., <i>Robert Mallet-Stevens</i>,
+Paris, 1931.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f476'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r476'>476</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See <i>André Lurçat, projets et réalisations</i>, Paris,
+1929.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f477'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r477'>477</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In this connexion Schumacher’s school-building
+programme for Hamburg, initiated considerably
+earlier, is also significant.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f478'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r478'>478</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Le Corbusier, <i>Une maison—un palais</i>,
+Paris, 1928.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f479'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r479'>479</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>As building activity increased in Russia in the
+late twenties there was considerable experimentation,
+mostly along Constructivist lines, and a growing
+acceptance of the new architecture of the western
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_467'>467</span>world. This continued into the early thirties.
+But the competition for the Palace of the Soviets of
+1931, to which Le Corbusier and Gropius as well as
+Poelzig and Mendelsohn were among the over two
+hundred architects who contributed projects, represented
+a major turning point. This was won by the
+Soviet architect B. M. Iofan (b. 1891) with a very
+monumental scheme designed in a variant of that
+megalomaniac mode of scraped classicism which
+had been popular for large-scale architecture in Germany
+under the Second Reich and which returned
+to favour in 1933 under the Third Reich, just after
+Iofan’s scheme triumphed. By 1937 this relatively
+severe project had been elaborated by Iofan and his
+collaborators W. G. Helfreich and V. A. Schouko
+until it rose—and to the same tremendous height as
+the Empire State Building in New York—like a
+telescopic wedding-cake, terminating in a statue
+of Stalin a third as tall as the whole structure
+below.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>Henceforth the ‘scraping’ of Classical forms ceased
+and Stalinist architecture in general aimed at an
+elaboration that was at once Baroque and Victorian
+in its coarse exuberance and in its illiterate use of
+academic clichés all but forgotten in the western
+world. During the later Stalinist period official
+Soviet criticism decried the modern architecture of
+the western world as a manifestation of ‘bourgeois
+formalism’.</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>Since the end of that period the denunciation of
+its characteristic architecture by Soviet leaders implies
+some return towards the contact with advanced
+western ideas which was evident in the
+twenties and early thirties. For the production of the
+Stalinist period, which would rate anywhere else
+as very low-grade ‘traditional’ architecture, see
+<i>Dreissig Jahre sowjetische Architektur in der RSFSR</i>,
+Leipzig, 1950.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f480'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r480'>480</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>More than rivalling Gropius’s housing in its
+extent was that carried out by Ernst May (b. 1887)
+for the city of Frankfort at this same time.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f481'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r481'>481</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Gropius and Meyer first used a smooth
+rendered surfacing on a theatre at Jena that they
+remodelled in 1922; this was not otherwise very
+significant, except that no trace of Expressionist
+influence, still strong in work of the year before,
+remained. As will appear shortly, Mies van der
+Rohe proposed to use brick in a design for a country
+house in 1922; and all the private houses he
+built in the twenties are of that material, though his
+housing blocks at Berlin and Stuttgart were rendered.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f482'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r482'>482</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Although Mies is not, as his second name
+van der Rohe might suggest, Dutch, he has always
+been an admirer of Berlage, and his very high standards
+for brickwork derive from his knowledge of
+Dutch building, both old and new, acquired during
+the year spent in The Hague designing the Kröller
+house.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f483'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r483'>483</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Much of Le Corbusier’s prolific writing of
+the twenties has already been mentioned in the text
+and earlier notes; for Gropius’s, see Cook, R. V.,
+<i>A Bibliography: Walter Gropius, 1919-1950</i>,
+Chicago [1951].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f484'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r484'>484</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For example, the German translation of <i>Vers
+une architecture</i> appeared in 1926; the English translation
+in 1927 in both English and American
+editions. Of <i>Urbanisme</i>, the American edition is of
+1927, the English of 1929, and the German of 1929
+also. Mies wrote, in effect, nothing at all.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f485'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r485'>485</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>As has been noted, Oud, at the invitation of
+Gropius, wrote <i>Holländische Architektur</i> (No. 10 in
+the series of Bauhausbücher) and also published
+many articles in Dutch, German, English, and
+French magazines.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch23n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 23 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f486'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r486'>486</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f443' class='c025'><sup>[443]</sup></a>, Chapter <a href='#ch22n'>22</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f487'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r487'>487</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Le Corbusier’s moulded <i>pilotis</i> supporting the
+Swiss Hostel in Paris (Plate <a href='#pl165b'>165<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) are two years
+later; those under the Unité d’Habitation, which
+resemble Aalto’s much more closely, were designed
+after the Second World War.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f488'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r488'>488</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>A hospital built in 1926-8 by Adolf Schneck
+and Richard Döcker (b. 1894) in Stuttgart is
+actually earlier but hardly comparable in quality.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f489'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r489'>489</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For Howe’s earlier ‘traditional’ work see
+<i>Monograph of the Work of Mellor, Meigs and Howe</i>,
+New York, 1923; for an assessment of his later
+career, <i>see also</i> Zevi, B., ‘George Howe’, <i>Journal
+of the American Institute of Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>XXIV</span> (1955),
+176-9. For the PFSF see Jordy, W., and Stern, R.,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XXII</span>
+(1962), entire June issue.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f490'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r490'>490</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The same description applies roughly to
+Aalto’s work down to the buildings mentioned
+above, it may be noted.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f491'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r491'>491</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Jordan, R. F., ‘Lubetkin’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVIII</span> (1955), 36-44.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f492'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r492'>492</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Technically the architects were J. Alan Slater
+and Arthur Hamilton Moberly (1885-1952) with
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_468'>468</span>Crabtree as designing associate. Professor Sir
+Charles Herbert Reilly (1874-1948), head of the
+School of Architecture at Liverpool, which he
+made one of the most advanced schools in the
+world in these years, was consultant. It is curious
+to recall that he had earlier been a consultant on
+Devonshire House in Piccadilly in London, built
+in 1924-6 by Carrère &amp; Hastings (John M.,
+1858-1911; and Thomas, 1860-1929), when the influence
+of American ‘traditional’ architecture was
+strong in London (see Chapter <a href='#ch24'>24</a>).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f493'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r493'>493</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Amyas Douglas Connell (b. 1901), Basil
+Robert Ward (b. 1902), and Colin Anderson
+Lucas (b. 1906); <i>see also</i> Note <a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a> to this chapter.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f494'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r494'>494</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For the late twenties and early thirties, when
+the newer architecture first penetrated England, see
+Pevsner, N., ‘Nine Swallows—No Summer’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>XCI</span> (1942), 109-12, and
+Hitchcock, H.-R., ‘England and the Outside
+World’, <i>Architectural Association Journal</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXII</span>
+(1956), 96-7 (this is a special number of the <i>Journal</i>
+devoted to the work of Connell, Ward &amp; Lucas,
+1927-39). See also Richards, J. M., ‘Wells Coates’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXIV</span> (1958), 357-60.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f495'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r495'>495</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>If Expressionism in architecture is an episode
+difficult to assess despite the real achievement of
+several of the architects involved with it
+(see Chapters <a href='#ch20'>20</a> and <a href='#ch22'>22</a>), Futurism is impossible to evaluate at
+all since it was only a ‘might have been’. Italian
+modern architecture since the thirties does not derive
+from the projects of Sant’Elia, many of which
+are only now being studied for the first time.
+Sant’Elia and the other architects associated with
+Futurism wished to cut all links with the past,
+Terragni re-linked the ‘International Style’—usually
+called <i>architettura razionale</i> under the Fascist
+regime—with Italian tradition, a line which several
+Italian modern architects have followed since. See
+Sartoris, A., <i>Sant’Eliae l’architettura futurista</i>, Rome,
+1943; Tentori, F., ‘Le Origini Liberty di Antonio
+Sant’Elia’, <i>L’Architettura</i>, <span class='c003'>1</span>(1955), 206-8; Banham,
+R., ‘Futurism and Modern Architecture’, <i>Journal
+of the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LXIV</span> (1957),
+129-38, and ‘Futurist Manifesto’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXXVI</span> (1959), 77-80. The greater part of
+Sant’Elia’s drawings are now available for study
+at the Villa Olmo, Como.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f496'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r496'>496</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Le Corbusier, <i>UN Headquarters</i>, New
+York, 1947.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f497'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r497'>497</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Rudolph, P., ‘Walter Gropius et son
+école’, <i>L’Architecture d’ aujourd’hui</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1950), 1-116.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f498'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r498'>498</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Credit for initiating the reform at Harvard
+must be given to the Dean of the school there,
+Joseph Hudnut (b. 1886), who invited Gropius to
+join his faculty.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f499'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r499'>499</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Louis Skidmore (1897-1962), Nathaniel
+Owings (b. 1903), John O. Merrill (b. 1896).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f500'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r500'>500</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Ralph Rapson is Dean of the School of
+Architecture at the University of Minnesota, it is
+relevant to note at this point.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f501'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r501'>501</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Le Corbusier, <i>The Marseilles Block</i>, London,
+1953.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f502'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r502'>502</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, [<span class='fss'>VI</span>, 1957],
+50-107.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f503'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r503'>503</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Stirling, J., ‘Ronchamp’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIX</span> (1956), 155-61. The best coverage is
+in Le Corbusier, <i>Œuvre complète</i>, [<span class='fss'>VI</span>, 1957], 16-43,
+however. See also Le Corbusier, <i>The Chapel at
+Ronchamp</i>, New York, 1957.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f504'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r504'>504</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>In collaboration with the French architect
+B.-H. Zehrfuss and the Italian engineer Pierluigi
+Nervi.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f505'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r505'>505</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>For a late published statement of Gropius’s
+principles, see <i>The Scope of Total Architecture</i>,
+New York, 1955, London [1956], although there
+is little there not to be found already in his other
+writings of the last forty years. See also Note <a href='#f482' class='c025'><sup>[482]</sup></a>
+to Chapter <a href='#ch22n'>22</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f506'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r506'>506</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Curiously enough Philip Johnson’s glass
+house in New Canaan, Conn., which obviously
+derives in several ways from the Farnsworth house,
+was actually erected first, in 1949; but of course
+Mies’s plan and model of the Farnsworth house
+had already been published by Johnson in his book
+<i>Mies van der Rohe</i> in 1947.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f507'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r507'>507</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Although their design follows closely that of
+the two blocks built in 1949-51, the construction is
+actually of ferro-concrete, not steel.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f508'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r508'>508</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Thanks to the continuance in the early post-war
+years of the reaction of the thirties, the buildings
+at the south end of the Coolsingel appear to
+present a curious inversion of chronology. While
+Dudok’s Bijenkorf Department Store of 1929-30,
+now demolished to open the view to the harbour,
+was characteristic of the ambiguity of much of his
+work, this ‘baby skyscraper’ of 1939-40 and also
+the contiguous Exchange by J. F. Staal (1879-1940),
+designed in 1929 and built in the thirties, appear
+much more ‘modern’ to mid-century eyes than
+the first big banks and so forth rebuilt after the war—these
+look as if they had been designed at least a
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_469'>469</span>generation ago. But the wave of reaction soon ran
+its course; the Lijnbaan of 1953-4, a complete shopping
+street by van den Broek &amp; Bakema running
+parallel to the Coolsingel, if not the new Bijenkorf
+by Breuer of 1955-7, was among the most advanced
+projects carried out anywhere in the mid
+fifties.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f509'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r509'>509</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Oud’s prominent Resistance Monument on
+the Dam in Amsterdam opposite the Royal Palace,
+completed in 1956, is hardly a work of architecture
+but rather an enlarged pedestal and frame for
+sculpture. Such a commission and the honorary
+doctorate he received in 1955 from the University
+of Leiden none the less indicate the high respect he
+was receiving in Holland by that time.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f510'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r510'>510</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Note <a href='#f511' class='c025'><sup>[511]</sup></a> to Chapter <a href='#ch24n'>24</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch24n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 24 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f511'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r511'>511</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>‘Historicism’ is a clumsy term matched by no
+viable adjective. It does, however, express more
+accurately than ‘traditionalism’, ‘revivalism’, or
+‘eclecticism’ a certain aspect of architecture which
+was common throughout the last five hundred
+years, and not unknown in early ages. Quite simply,
+it means the re-use of forms borrowed from the
+architectural styles of the past, usually in more
+or less new combinations. It is late in this book to
+introduce a definition; but historicism is always so
+much taken for granted in discussing the architecture
+of the nineteenth century that it is only
+after the appearance as an alternative of exclusive
+modernism, rejecting all borrowed forms, that the
+older attitude needs to be isolated in order to discuss
+its continuance in this century. Characteristically,
+the architecture of two-thirds of the period
+covered by this book balanced a moderate sort of
+modernism with more or less of historicism. This is
+as true of most of the novel projects of Ledoux in the
+1780s as it is of a considerable part of the work of
+the first generation of modern architects. However,
+only the traditional architects remained firmly
+attached to the concept of historicism in the
+twentieth century; men like Behrens and Perret
+were, through much of their careers at least, in
+highly significant revolt against it, quite as Ledoux
+had been in his day.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f512'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r512'>512</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Östberg, R., <i>The Stockholm Town Hall</i>,
+Stockholm, 1929.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f513'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r513'>513</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The decline is perhaps to be related at its start
+to the death of their associate Joseph M. Wells in
+1890. Never a member of the firm, he had nevertheless
+been personally responsible for the design of
+the Villard houses (Plate <a href='#pl109b'>109<span class='fss'>B</span></a>) that had opened the
+academic phase of the firm’s career. Later, the death
+of White and the retirement of McKim in the early
+years of the new century removed the two controlling
+personalities from the firm. Henceforth the
+office was a ‘plan-factory’, with high professional
+standards undoubtedly, but without direction
+other than that already established in the late
+eighties and nineties by the founders. In 1961 the
+firm finally came to an end with the death of J. K.
+Smith, the only surviving partner who had known
+the founders.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f514'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r514'>514</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>J.-L. Pascal (1837-1920), a pupil of Gilbert
+who had worked with Garnier on the Opéra and
+succeeded Labrouste at the Bibliothèque Nationale,
+had at least as high a reputation, and was the teacher
+of several prominent English and American architects.
+His severe academic style, emulated later by
+his Anglo-Saxon pupils, was well established by the
+time he designed the Faculty of Medicine at Bordeaux
+in the early nineties. Nénot was one of
+Pascal’s French pupils.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f515'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r515'>515</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>William Adams Delano (b. 1874) was a pupil
+of Laloux; Chester Holmes Aldrich (b. 1878) was
+also trained at the École des Beaux-Arts. For an
+attempt to reassess the ‘traditional’ houses of this
+period, see Lane, J., ‘The Period House in the
+Nineteen-Twenties’, <i>Journal of the Society of
+Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XX</span> (1961), 185-90.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f516'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r516'>516</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The controversy as to which firm should receive
+credit for the design of the Grand Central
+Station once waxed hot. The organization of the
+tremendous complex was probably the work of
+Charles A. Reed (?-1911) and Allen H. Stem
+(1856-1931), who had already built other big
+stations in Troy, N.Y., in 1901-4 and in Tacoma in
+1909-11—as, moreover, their successors, Felheimer
+&amp; Wagner, have done also: Buffalo and North
+Station, Boston, both begun in 1927, and Cincinnati
+in 1929-33. Whitney Warren (1864-1943) and
+Charles D. Wetmore (1866-1941), who also
+worked with Reed &amp; Stem on the Detroit station
+completed in 1913, were doubtless more responsible
+for the dignified and well-scaled detailing.
+See Marshall, D., <i>Grand Central</i>, New York,
+1946.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f517'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r517'>517</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Books of the period, such as <i>American Architecture</i>
+of 1928 by the distinguished architectural
+historian Fiske Kimball, or <i>American Architecture of
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_470'>470</span>Today</i>, also of 1928, by the then Dean of the Harvard
+University School of Architecture, G. H. Edgell,
+offer the later writer very little assistance. Kimball
+in the twenties was too ready to consider the
+continuance of the academic tradition assured—his
+chapter on Sullivan and Wright was entitled
+‘The Lost Cause’—while Edgell offers such a miscellany
+of buildings that no clear picture emerges.
+Several attempts within the period to select its
+major monuments fixed on much the same lot as are
+given prominence here; but such selections hardly
+help to organize the work of the day in historical
+terms.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f518'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r518'>518</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Weisman, W., ‘Towards a New Environment:
+the Way of the Price Mechanism; the Rockefeller
+Centre’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CVIII</span> (1950),
+399-405; ‘Who Designed Rockefeller Center?’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>X</span>
+(1951), 11-17; and ‘The First “Mature” Skyscraper’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XVIII</span> (1959), 54-9.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f519'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r519'>519</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>This firm were the successors of Richardson,
+and Henry Richardson Shepley, now its head, is
+Richardson’s grandson. See Forbes, J. D., ‘Shepley,
+Bulfinch, Richardson and Abbott, Architects—An
+Introduction’, <i>Journal of the Society of Architectural
+Historians</i>, <span class='fss'>XVII</span> (1958), 19-31.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f520'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r520'>520</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>‘Compositionalism’ has been suggested by
+Colin Rowe as a name for the style-phase with
+which this section deals. Composition was then
+conceived by many architects and theorists as an
+absolute to which the re-use of any sort of stylistic
+forms could be accommodated. It is at least open
+to suspicion, for example, that Rogers’s Pierson
+College at Yale was designed originally with Gothic
+forms and then re-cast as Neo-Georgian. Later
+eyes than our own will doubtless find it possible to
+identify the period characteristics of traditional
+work of the twenties in the way many critics already
+feel able to do with the nineteenth-century revivals.
+The period-designation ‘President Harding’ may
+some day perhaps be as meaningful as ‘General
+Grant’, if hardly comparable to ‘Victorian’!</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f521'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r521'>521</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Harvey Wiley Corbett (b. 1873), a pupil of
+Pascal at the École des Beaux-Arts, was probably
+the designer.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f522'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r522'>522</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Carrère was dead by this time, but the firm
+name remained unchanged; as has been mentioned
+earlier, Professor Sir Charles Reilly was consultant,
+and he probably made some real contribution to
+the design.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f523'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r523'>523</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>C.-F. Mewès (1858-1947) and Arthur Joseph
+Davis (1878-1951), both pupils of Pascal, like
+Corbett.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f524'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r524'>524</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Gropius is very insistent on the desirability
+of anonymous team-work in architecture. His
+TAC, the one-time Tecton group in London,
+and other firms with similar names are examples of
+this ideal which aims, of course, at something rather
+different from the anonymity of the large commercial
+firms. Theirs is fact rather than ideal.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f525'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r525'>525</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Weisman, W., ‘Group Practice’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIV</span> (1953), 145-51.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f526'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r526'>526</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Sir John J. Burnet (1857-1938), another pupil
+of Pascal at the École; Thomas S. Tait (1882-1954).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f527'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r527'>527</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Pevsner, N., ‘Building with Wit; the
+Architecture of Sir E. Lutyens’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CX</span> (1951), 217-25.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f528'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r528'>528</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Purdom, C. B., <i>The Garden City</i>, London,
+1913; and Culpin, E. G., <i>The Garden City
+Movement Up-to-Date</i>, London, 1913.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f529'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r529'>529</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Macfadyen, D., <i>Sir Ebenezer Howard and
+the Town Planning Movement</i>, London, 1933.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f530'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r530'>530</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Unwin, R., <i>Town Planning and Modern
+Architecture at the Hampstead Garden Suburb</i>, London,
+1909.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f531'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r531'>531</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Some of the other large buildings were the
+work of Sir Herbert Baker, who was also responsible
+for another dominion capital at Pretoria in
+South Africa. Of his rival’s intervention at New
+Delhi Lutyens remarked characteristically, ‘It was
+my Bakerloo’.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f532'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r532'>532</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Drysdale, G., ‘The Work of Leonard
+Stokes’, <i>Journal of the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XXXIV</span> (1927), 163-77, and Roberts, H. V. M.,
+‘Leonard Aloysius Stokes’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>C</span>
+(1946), 173-7.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f533'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r533'>533</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The New-Zealand-born Connell’s High-and-Over
+in Bucks of 1927 is very superior, however,
+to Tait’s Le Chateau at Silverend in Essex, and
+a year earlier.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<h3 id='ch25n' class='c030'>CHAPTER 25 - Notes</h3>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote c000' id='f534'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r534'>534</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>No sharp distinction has been made in this
+book between architects and engineers. Such engineers,
+from Telford to Candela, as have been
+responsible for work of architectural pretension
+deserve to be considered as architects, and monographic
+works on several of them will be found in
+the Bibliography.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_471'>471</span></div>
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f535'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r535'>535</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See San Francisco Museum of Art, <i>Domestic
+Architecture of the San Francisco Bay Region</i>, San
+Francisco, 1949.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f536'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r536'>536</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Banham, P. R., ‘New Brutalism’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXVIII</span> (1955), 355-61. See also Banham’s
+articles in the <i>Architectural Review</i> on ‘Neo-Liberty’,
+a term introduced by Paolo Portoghesi.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f537'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r537'>537</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Consideration of such topics of current controversial
+interest more properly belongs in periodicals
+or special critical works than in a general
+history, but see the <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f538'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r538'>538</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>There is something symptomatic in the fact
+that the younger men, whether architects or critical
+writers, are mostly content to revive early controversial
+attitudes of the preceding half century rather
+than to offer anything really new. (See <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.)</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f539'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r539'>539</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Holford, W., ‘The Precincts of St Paul’s’,
+<i>Journal of the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>,
+<span class='sc'>Lxiii</span> (1956), 232-4.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f540'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r540'>540</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>See Aarhus Universitet, <i>Hovedbygningen</i>,
+Aarhus [n.d.].</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f541'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r541'>541</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The term skyscraper in this context is to be
+understood as meaning a very tall office building.
+Many European housing blocks, such as are discussed
+below, would have been considered skyscrapers
+a generation ago, and the same is true of
+much urban office building in central areas which
+often today rivals in height the German examples of
+the twenties mentioned in Chapter <a href='#ch20'>20</a>. However,
+the significant skyscrapers of the post-war period
+are much taller than this, and—perhaps equally
+important—they characteristically stand in their
+own space, rising sheer from some sort of plaza
+at their base.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f542'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r542'>542</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>9 James Cubitt (b. 1913), Stephan Buzas (b.
+1915), Fello Atkinson (b. 1919), and Richard Maitland
+(b. 1917).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f543'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r543'>543</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Osvaldo Luis Torro (b. 1914) and Miguel
+Ferrer (b. 1915).</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f544'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r544'>544</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>Architects designing for prefabrication and
+above all structural experimenters such as Buckminster
+Fuller were certainly far bolder and more
+revolutionary in their concepts of the house as
+‘controlled environment’ than are most of those
+who have so far built airports.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class='fn'>
+
+<div class='footnote' id='f545'>
+<p class='c031'><span class='label'><a href='#r545'>545</a>.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span>The death of Eero Saarinen in 1961 brought
+to a premature end the career of a typical, indeed
+a very leading, post-war architect whose mature
+production dated very largely from the years since
+the mid fifties when this book was originally
+written. (See <a href='#epi'>Epilogue</a>.)</p>
+
+<p class='c031'>Monographs on such different architects as
+Philip Johnson and the firm of Skidmore, Owings
+&amp; Merrill should appear almost coincidentally with
+this second edition and others are already in preparation.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_473'>473</span>
+  <h2 class='c013'>BIBLIOGRAPHY</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'>For the study of the architecture of the western world since about
+1840 no sources are more valuable than the professional periodicals.
+To provide a comprehensive list with full bibliographical details
+would require an inordinate amount of space and many technicalities
+because of the complicated way such publications start and stop,
+initiate new series, merge, and change title. However, it may be
+helpful to mention, without giving any descriptive details, a few that
+are especially valuable to the historian. In England, the
+<i>Builder</i>, the <i>Building News</i>, and later the
+<i>Architectural Review</i> are most useful; in France the <i>Revue
+générale de l’architecture</i>, the <i>Encyclopédie
+d’architecture</i>, the <i>Gazette des architectes</i>, and later
+<i>L’Architecture vivante</i> and <i>L’Architecture d’aujourd’
+hui</i>. In Austria-Hungary the <i>Allgemeine Bauzeitung</i> may be
+cited. For the United States, the <i>American Architect and Building
+News</i> and later the <i>Architectural Record</i>, the
+<i>Architectural Forum</i>, and <i>Progressive Architecture</i> cover
+the field from the eighteen-seventies to the present. The American
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i> has devoted
+more articles to the nineteenth century than other learned journals.
+Particular articles in the above-mentioned and other periodicals are
+for the most part merely referenced in the Notes, except those that
+provide the equivalent of separate monographs on certain architects;
+such are listed here.</p>
+<p class='c010'><i>General Works</i> are subdivided, necessarily with some overlap,
+into those covering the <i>Nineteenth Century</i> (including, in fact,
+the later decades of the eighteenth also) and those covering the
+<i>Twentieth Century</i>. There follow rubrics for separate countries
+or groups of countries. Finally come the monographs on individual
+architects arranged, regardless of country or period, alphabetically
+by architect.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'>GENERAL WORKS</h3>
+<h4 class='c032'><span class='sc'>Nineteenth Century</span></h4>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Benevolo, L.</span> <i>Storia dell’architettura moderna</i>, <span class='c003'>1</span>.
+Bari, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Cassou, J.</span>, <span class='sc'>Langui, E.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Pevsner, N.</span> <i>The
+Sources of Modern Art.</i> London, 1962. (In America,
+<i>Gateway to the Twentieth Century</i>, New York,
+1962.)</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Fergusson, J.</span> <i>History of the Modern Styles of Architecture.</i>
+London, 1862.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Giedion, S.</span> <i>Space, Time and Architecture.</i> Cambridge,
+Mass., 1941. Later editions to 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Giedion, S.</span> <i>Spätbarocker und romantischer Klassizismus.</i>
+Munich, 1922.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hamlin, A. D. F.</span> <i>A Text-Book of the History of
+Architecture.</i> New York, 1896.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hautecoeur, L.</span> <i>Rome et la renaissance de l’antiquité
+à la fin du XVIII<sup>e</sup> siècle.</i> Paris, 1912.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>Modern Architecture, Romanticism
+and Reintegration.</i> New York, 1929.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Joseph, D.</span> <i>Geschichte der Baukunst des XIX. Jahrhunderts.</i>
+2 vols. Leipzig [1910].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kaufmann, E.</span> <i>Architecture in the Age of Reason.</i>
+Cambridge, Mass., 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kaufmann, E.</span> <i>Von Ledoux bis Le Corbusier.</i>
+Vienna, 1933.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lavedan, P.</span> <i>Histoire de l’urbanisme</i>, vol. 3. Paris,
+1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lundberg, E.</span> <i>Arkitekturens Formspråk</i>, <span class='fss'>IX</span>, <i>Vägen
+till Nutiden, 1715-1850</i>, Stockholm, 1960; <span class='fss'>X</span>,
+<i>Nutiden, 1850-1960</i>, Stockholm, 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Madsen, S. T.</span> <i>Sources of Art Nouveau.</i> Oslo, 1956;
+New York, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Meeks, C. L. V.</span> <i>The Railroad Station.</i> New Haven,
+1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Michel, A.</span> (ed.). <i>Histoire de l’art depuis les premiers
+temps chrétiens jusqu’à nos jours</i>, <span class='fss'>VII</span>, 2; <span class='fss'>VIII</span>, 1, 2, 3.
+Paris, 1924-9.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Muthesius, H.</span> <i>Stilarchitekur und Baukunst: Wandlungen
+der Architektur im XIX. Jahrhundert.</i> Mülheim-Ruhr,
+1902.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pauli, G.</span> <i>Die Kunst des Klassizismus und der
+Romantik.</i> Berlin, 1925.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pevsner, N.</span> <i>An Outline of European Architecture.</i>
+Harmondsworth, 1942; seventh edition 1963.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pevsner, N.</span> <i>Pioneers of Modern Design.</i> London,
+1936; 3rd ed., Harmondsworth, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Réau, L.</span> <i>Histoire de l’expansion de l’art français</i>, vol.
+<span class='c003'>1-</span>. Paris, 1924-.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Rehme, W.</span> <i>Die Architektur der neuen freien Schule.</i>
+Leipzig, 1901.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Richardson, E. P.</span> <i>The Way of Western Art, 1776-1914.</i>
+Cambridge, Mass., 1939.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Summerson, J. N.</span> <i>Heavenly Mansions.</i> London,
+1949.</p>
+<div>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_474'>474</span>
+  <h4 class='c032'><span class='sc'>Twentieth Century</span></h4>
+</div>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Banham, R.</span> <i>Theory and Design in the First Machine
+Age.</i> London, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Behrendt, W. C.</span> <i>Modern Building.</i> New York,
+1937.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Benevolo, L.</span> <i>Storia dell’architettura moderna</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>.
+Bari, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Contemporary Architecture of the World 1961.</i> Tokyo
+[1961].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Dorfles, G.</span> <i>L’Architettura moderna.</i> Milan,
+1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Giedion, S.</span> <i>A Decade of Contemporary Architecture.</i>
+Zurich, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Gropius, W.</span> <i>Internationale Architektur.</i> Munich,
+1925.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hamlin, T. F.</span> <i>Forms and Functions of Twentieth-Century
+Architecture.</i> 4 vols. New York, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Johnson, P.</span> <i>The International
+Style: Architecture since 1922.</i> New York,
+1932.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Jaffé, H. L. C.</span> <i>De Stijl, 1917-1931.</i> London
+[1956].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Joedicke, J.</span> <i>A History of Modern Architecture.</i> New
+York, 1959.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Platz, G.</span> <i>Die Baukunst der neuesten Zeit.</i> Berlin,
+1927.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Richards, J. M.</span> <i>An Introduction to Modern Architecture.</i>
+9th ed. Harmondsworth, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Roth, A.</span> <i>The New Architecture.</i> Zurich, 1940.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sartoris, A.</span> <i>Introduzione alla architettura moderna.</i>
+Milan, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sartoris, A.</span> <i>Gli Elementi dell’architettura funzionale.</i>
+Milan, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sfaellos, C.</span> <i>Le Fonctionnalisme dans l’architecture
+contemporaine.</i> Paris, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Smith, G. E. K.</span> <i>The New Architecture of Europe.</i>
+Cleveland and New York [1961]; Harmondsworth,
+1962.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Whittick, A.</span> <i>European Architecture in the Twentieth
+Century.</i> 2 vols. London, 1950-3.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Zevi, B.</span> <i>Storia dell’architettura moderna.</i> Turin,
+1950.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'>INDIVIDUAL COUNTRIES</h3>
+
+<h4 class='c035'><span class='sc'>Austria-Hungary</span></h4>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Dehio, G.</span> <i>Handbuch der deutschen Kunstdenkmäler:
+Österreich.</i> Vienna, 1933.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lützow, C.</span> von, and <span class='sc'>Tischler, L.</span> (eds).
+<i>Wiener Neubauten.</i> 2 vols. Vienna, 1876-80.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Rados, J.</span> <i>A magyar klasszicista építészet hagyományai.</i>
+Budapest, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Schmidt, J.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Tietze, H.</span> <i>Wien.</i> Vienna
+[1954].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Tietze, H.</span> <i>Wien.</i> Leipzig, 1928.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Virgil, B.</span> <i>A magyar klasszicismus epiteszete.</i> Budapest,
+1948.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Wiener Neubauten in Stil der Sezession.</i> 6 vols.
+Vienna, 1908-10.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Wirth, Z.</span> <i>Ceśká architektura, 1800-1920.</i> Prague,
+1922.</p>
+<h4 class='c035'><span class='sc'>British Dominions</span></h4>
+<p class='c033'><i>Architecture in Australia</i> (catalogue of exhibition at
+the R.I.B.A.). London, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Beiers, G.</span> <i>Houses of Australia.</i> Sydney [1948].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Boyd, R.</span> ‘Victorian Victorian’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXIV</span> (1953), 105-8.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Boyd, R.</span> <i>Australia’s Home.</i> Carlton, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Casey, M.</span>, and others (eds.). <i>Early Melbourne
+Architecture.</i> Melbourne, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Clarke, B. F. L.</span> <i>Anglican Cathedrals outside the
+British Isles.</i> London, 1958.</p>
+<p class='c034'>‘Commonwealth I, II’, (special issues of) <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, October 1959; July 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Gowans, A.</span> <i>Looking at Architecture in Canada.</i>
+Toronto, 1958.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Griffiths, G. N.</span> <i>Some Houses and People in New
+South Wales.</i> Sydney, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Herman, M.</span> <i>The Early Australian Architects and
+their Work.</i> Sydney and London, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Herman, M.</span> <i>The Architecture of Victorian Sydney.</i>
+Sydney, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hubbard, R.</span> ‘Canadian Gothic’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXVI</span> (1954), 102-8.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sharland, M.</span> <i>Stones of a Century.</i> Hobart,
+1942.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Turnbull, C.</span> <i>The Charm of Hobart.</i> Sydney,
+1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Wilson, H.</span> <i>Old Colonial Architecture in New South
+Wales and Tasmania.</i> Sydney, 1924.</p>
+<h4 class='c035'><span class='sc'>France</span></h4>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Barqui, F.</span> <i>L’Architecture moderne en France.</i> Paris [n.d.]</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Bauchal, C.</span> <i>Nouveau dictionnaire biographique et
+critique des architectes français.</i> Paris, 1887.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='pageno' id='Page_475'>475</span><span class='sc'>Brault, E.</span> <i>Les Architectes par leurs œuvres.</i> 3 vols.
+Paris [n.d.].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Calliat, V.</span> <i>Parallèle des maisons de Paris.</i> 2 vols.
+Paris, 1850, 1864.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Gourlier</span>, <span class='sc'>Biet</span>, <span class='sc'>Grillon</span>, and <span class='sc'>Tardieu</span>.
+<i>Choix d’édifices publics projetés et construits en
+France depuis le commencement du XIX siècle.</i> 3 vols.
+Paris, 1825-36.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Gromort, G.</span> <i>L’Architecture</i> in <i>Histoire générale de
+l’art français de la Révolution à nos jours</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>. Paris,
+1922.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hautecoeur, L.</span> <i>Histoire de l’architecture classique
+en France</i>, vols <span class='fss'>IV-VII</span>. Paris, 1952-7.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Krafft, J.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Thiollet, F.</span> <i>Choix des plus jolies
+maisons de Paris et des environs.</i> Paris, 1849.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Magne, L.</span> <i>L’Architecture française du siècle.</i> Paris,
+1889.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Normand, L. M.</span> <i>Paris moderne ou choix de maisons.</i>
+3 vols. Paris, 1837, 1843, 1849.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Réau, F. L.</span> <i>L’Œuvre de baron Haussmann.</i>...
+Paris, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Rochegude</span>, Marquis de. <i>Guide pratique à travers
+le vieux Paris.</i> New ed. Paris, 1923.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Vacquier, J.</span> <i>Le Style empire.</i> Paris, 1911.</p>
+<h4 class='c035'><span class='sc'>Germany</span></h4>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Beenken, H.</span> <i>Schöpferische Bauideen der deutschen
+Romantik.</i> Mainz, 1942.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Berlin und seine Bauten.</i> Berlin, 1877.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Conrads, U.</span> <i>Neue deutsche Architektur 1955-1960.</i>
+Stuttgart, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Dehio, G.</span> <i>Handbuch der deutschen Kunstdenkmäler.</i>
+5 vols. Berlin, 1905 <i>et seq.</i>; new ed., ed. E. Gall,
+so far, 11 vols. Berlin and Munich, 1935 <i>et seq</i>.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Herrmann, W.</span> <i>Deutsche Baukunst des 19. und 20.
+Jahrhunderts</i>, vol. <span class='c003'>1</span> Breslau, 1932.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hoffmann, H.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Kaspar, K.</span> <i>Neue deutsche
+Architektur.</i> Teufen [1956].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Landsberger, F.</span> <i>Die Kunst der Goethezeit.</i> Leipzig,
+1931.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Licht, H.</span> <i>Architektur Deutschlands.</i> 2 vols. Berlin,
+1882.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mebes, P.</span> <i>Um 1800.</i> Munich, 1918.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Schmalenbach, F.</span> <i>Jugendstil.</i> Würzburg, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Schmitz, H.</span> <i>Berliner Baumeister vom Ausgang des
+18. Jahrhunderts.</i> Berlin, 1914.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Schumacher, F.</span> <i>Strömungen in der deutschen Baukunst
+seit 1800.</i> Leipzig, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Vogel, H.</span> <i>Deutsche Baukunst des Klassizismus.</i>
+Berlin, 1937.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Great Britain</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Boase, T. S. R.</span> <i>English Art 1800-1870.</i> London,
+1959.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Casson, H.</span> <i>An Introduction to Victorian Architecture.</i>
+London, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Casson, H.</span> <i>New Sights of London.</i> London,
+1938.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Clark, K.</span> <i>The Gothic Revival.</i> London, 1928;
+second edition 1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Clarke, B. F. L.</span> <i>Church Builders of the Nineteenth
+Century.</i> London, 1938.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Colvin, H. M.</span> <i>A Biographical Dictionary of English
+Architects, 1660-1840.</i> London, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Eastlake, C. L.</span> <i>A History of the Gothic Revival.</i>
+London, 1872.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Goodhart-Rendel, H. S.</span> <i>English Architecture
+since the Regency.</i> London, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Goodhart-Rendel, H. S.</span> ‘Rogue Architects of
+the Victorian Era’, <i>Journal of the Royal Institute of
+British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LVI</span> (1949), 251-9.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Harbron, D.</span> <i>Amphion or the Nineteenth Century.</i>
+London and Toronto, 1930.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>Early Victorian Architecture in
+Britain.</i> 2 vols. New Haven and London, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> and others. <i>Modern Architecture
+in England.</i> New York, 1937.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hussey, C.</span> <i>English Country Houses: Mid-Georgian
+1760-1800.</i> London [1956].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hussey, C.</span> <i>English Country Houses: Late Georgian
+1800-1840.</i> London [1960].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hussey, C.</span> <i>The Picturesque.</i> London, 1927.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>McCallum, I.</span> <i>A Pocket Guide to Modern Buildings
+in London.</i> London, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mills, E.</span> <i>The New Architecture in Great Britain,
+1946-53.</i> London, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Muthesius, H.</span> <i>Das englische Haus.</i> 3 vols. Berlin,
+1904-5.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Muthesius, H.</span> <i>Die englische Baukunst der Gegenwart.</i>
+Leipzig and Berlin, 1900.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Muthesius, H.</span> <i>Die neuere kirchliche Baukunst in
+England.</i> Berlin, 1902.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pevsner, N.</span> <i>The Buildings of England.</i> 25 vols. to
+date. London, 1951 <i>et seq</i>.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pilcher, D.</span> <i>The Regency Style, 1800 to 1830.</i> London,
+1947.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Richardson, A. E.</span> ‘Architecture’, in G. M.
+Young (ed.), <i>Early Victorian England, 1830-1865</i>,
+<span class='fss'>II</span>, 177-248. London, 1934.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Richardson, A. E.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Gill, C. L.</span> <i>Regional
+Architecture of the West of England.</i> London,
+1924.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='pageno' id='Page_476'>476</span><span class='sc'>Richardson, A. E.</span> <i>Monumental Classic Architecture
+in Great Britain and Ireland.</i> London, 1914.</p>
+<p class='c034'>Royal Institute of British Architects. <i>One Hundred
+Years of British Architecture, 1851-1951.</i> London,
+1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Summerson, J.</span> <i>Georgian London.</i> London, 1945.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Summerson, J.</span> <i>Ten Years of British Architecture.</i>
+London, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Turnor, R.</span> <i>The Smaller English House, 1500-1939.</i>
+London, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Turnor, R.</span> <i>Nineteenth Century Architecture in
+Britain.</i> London, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Whiffen, M.</span> <i>Stuart and Georgian Churches outside
+London.</i> London, 1947-8.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Greece</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Russack, H. H.</span> <i>Deutsches Bauen in Athen.</i> Berlin,
+1942.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Holland</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Behne, A.</span> <i>Holländische Baukunst in der Gegenwart.</i>
+Berlin, 1922.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Blijstra, R.</span> <i>Netherlands Architecture since 1900.</i>
+Amsterdam, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mieras, J.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Yerbury, F.</span> <i>Dutch Architecture of
+the XXth century.</i> London, 1926.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Moderne Bouwkunst in Nederland.</i> 20 vols. Rotterdam,
+1932.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Nederland bouwt in Baksteen, 1800-1940.</i> (Catalogue
+of exhibition at Boijmans Museum.) Rotterdam,
+1941.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Oud, J. J. P.</span> <i>Holländische Architektur.</i> Munich,
+1926.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Thienen, F.</span> van. ‘De bouwkunst van de laatste
+anderhalve eeuw’, in H. van Gelder (ed), <i>Kunstgeschiedenis
+der Nederlanden</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>. Utrecht, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Wattjes, J. G.</span> <i>Amsterdams bouwkunst en stadsschoon,
+1306-1942.</i> Amsterdam, 1944.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Wattjes, J. G.</span> <i>Niewe Nederlandsche bouwkunst</i>, 2
+vols. Amsterdam, [1923]-1926.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Yerbury, F. R.</span> <i>Modern Dutch Buildings.</i> London,
+1931.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Italy</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Bottoni, P.</span> <i>Antologia di edifici moderni in Milano.</i>
+Milan, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Caracciolo, E.</span> ‘Architettura dell’ottocento in
+Sicilia’, <i>Metron</i>, <span class='fss'>VII</span> (Oct. 1952), 29-40.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Golfieri, E.</span> <i>Artisti neoclassici in Faenza.</i> Faenza,
+1929.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kidder Smith, G. E.</span> <i>Italy Builds.</i> London, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Olivero, E.</span> <i>L’Architettura in Torino durante la
+prima metà dell’ Ottocento.</i> Turin [1952].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pagani, C.</span> <i>Architettura italiana oggi.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Pica, A.</span> <i>Architettura moderna in Italia.</i> Milan
+1941.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Reggiori, F.</span> <i>Milano 1800-1943.</i> Milan, 1947.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sasso, C.</span> <i>Storia de’ monumenti di Napoli e degli
+architetti che li edificavano</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>. Naples, 1858.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Latin America</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Arango, J.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Martinez, C.</span> <i>Arquitectura en
+Colombia.</i> Bogotá, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Cetto, M.</span> <i>Modern Architecture in Mexico.</i> New
+York, 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Goodwin, P.</span> <i>Brazil Builds.</i> New York, 1943.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>Latin American Architecture
+since 1945.</i> New York, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mindlin, H.</span> <i>Modern Architecture in Brazil.</i> New
+York [1956].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Myers, I. E.</span> <i>Mexico’s Modern Architecture.</i> New
+York, 1952.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Russia and Poland</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><i>Architektura polska do poowy XIX wicku.</i> Warsaw,
+1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Dmochowski, Z.</span> <i>The Architecture of Poland.</i> London,
+1956.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Grabar, I.</span> <i>Istoriya Russkagho iskusstva</i>, vols 3 and
+4. Moscow [1912, 1915].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hamilton, G. H.</span> <i>The Art and Architecture of
+Russia</i>, Chapters 21-23. Harmondsworth, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lo Gatto, E.</span> <i>Gli architetti del secolo XIX a Pietroburgo
+e nelle tenute imperiali.</i> Rome, 1943.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Nekrasov, A.</span> <i>Russki Ampir.</i> Moscow, 1935.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Scandinavia</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Ahlberg, H.</span> <i>Swedish Architecture of the Twentieth
+Century.</i> London, 1925.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Architecture in Finland</i> (R.I.B.A. Exhibition Catalogue).
+London, 1957.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Cornell, E.</span> <i>Ny svensk byggnadskonst.</i> Stockholm,
+1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Danish Architecture of Today</i> (catalogue of exhibition
+at R.I.B.A.). London, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Denmark</i> (special issue on Danish Architecture).
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CIV</span> (1948).</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Finland bygger.</i> Helsinki, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Finsen, H.</span> <i>Ung danske arkitektur, 1930-45.</i> Copenhagen,
+1947.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='pageno' id='Page_477'>477</span><span class='sc'>Fisker, K.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Yerbury, F. R.</span> <i>Modern Danish
+Architecture.</i> London, 1927.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hahr, A.</span> <i>Architecture in Sweden.</i> Stockholm, 1939.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hiort, E.</span> <i>Nyere dansk bygningskunst.</i> Copenhagen,
+1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hulten, B.</span> <i>Building Modern Sweden.</i> Harmondsworth,
+1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Industriearkitektur i Finland.</i> Helsinki, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Jacobson, T. P.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Silow, S.</span> (eds.). <i>Ten
+Lectures on Swedish Architecture.</i> Stockholm,
+1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Josephson, R.</span> ‘Svensk 1800-tals architektur’, in
+<i>Teknisk Tidskrift</i>, <span class='fss'>LII</span> (1922), 1-64.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Langberg, H.</span> <i>Hvem byggede hvad; Gamle og nye
+bygninger i Danmark.</i> Copenhagen, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lindblom, A.</span> <i>Sveriges Konsthistoria fran fortnid till
+nutid</i>, <span class='fss'>III</span>. Stockholm, 1946.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lindahl, G.</span> <i>Högkyrkligt Lågkyrkligt Frikyrkligt
+i Svensk architektur, 1850-1950.</i> Stockholm,
+1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Madsen, S. T.</span> <i>To Kongeslot.</i> Oslo, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Madsen, S. T.</span> ‘Dragestilen. Honnør til en hånet
+stil’, <i>Vestlandske Kunstindustrimuseums Årbok,
+1949-1950</i>, 19-62. Bergen, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Millech, K.</span> <i>Danske arkitektur stromninger, 1850-1950.</i>
+Copenhagen, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>New Architecture in Sweden.</i> Stockholm, 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>New Swedish Architecture.</i> Stockholm, 1940.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Smith, G. E. K.</span> <i>Sweden Builds.</i> London, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Wanscher, L. E.</span> <i>Danmarks arkitektur.</i> Copenhagen,
+1943.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Switzerland</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Bill, M.</span> <i>Moderne Schweizer Architektur, 1925-1945.</i>
+Basel, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Jenny, H.</span> <i>Kunstführer der Schweiz, ein Handbuch
+... der Baukunst.</i> Bern, 1945.</p>
+<p class='c034'><i>Moderne Schweizer Architektur</i>, 10 vols. Basel, 1940-6.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Smith, G. E. K.</span> <i>Switzerland Builds.</i> London, 1950.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>Spain</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><span class='sc'>Calzada, A.</span> <i>Historia de la arquitectura española.</i>
+Barcelona, 1933.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Cirici-Pellicer, P.</span> <i>El arte modernista catalán.</i>
+Barcelona, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Flores, C.</span> <i>Arquitectura española contemporanea.</i>
+Madrid, 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Lozoya</span>, Marqués de (<span class='sc'>Contraveras</span>, J. de).
+<i>Historia del arte hispánico</i>, v. Barcelona, 1949.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'><span class='sc'>United States</span></h3>
+<p class='c033'><i>Artistic Homes.</i> New York, 1886.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Andrews, W.</span> <i>Architecture, Ambition and Americans.</i>
+New York, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Andrews, W.</span> <i>Architecture in America, A Photographic
+History.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Condit, C.</span> <i>The Rise of the Skyscraper.</i> Chicago,
+1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Condit, C.</span> <i>American Building Art—The Nineteenth
+Century.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Condit, C.</span> <i>American Building Art—The Twentieth
+Century.</i> New York, 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Denmark, E. R.</span> <i>Architecture of the Old South.</i>
+Atlanta [1926].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Downing, A.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Scully, V. J.</span> <i>The Architectural
+Heritage of Newport, Rhode Island.</i> Cambridge,
+Mass., 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Edgell, G. H.</span> <i>The American Architecture of Today.</i>
+New York and London, 1928.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Fitch, J. M.</span> <i>American Building; the Forces that
+Shape It.</i> Boston, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Frary, I. T.</span> <i>Early Homes of Ohio.</i> Richmond,
+1936.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hamlin, T. F.</span> <i>The American Spirit in Architecture.</i>
+New Haven, 1926.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hamlin, T. F.</span> <i>Greek Revival Architecture in
+America.</i> New York, 1944.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>A Guide to Boston Architecture,
+1637-1954.</i> New York, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>American Architectural Books.</i>
+2nd ed. Minneapolis, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span> <i>Rhode Island Architecture.</i> Providence,
+1939.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Hitchcock, H.-R.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Drexler, A.</span> <i>Built in
+U.S.A.: Post-War Architecture.</i> New York,
+1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Howland, R.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Spencer, E.</span> <i>The Architecture
+of Baltimore.</i> Baltimore, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kilham, W.</span> <i>Boston after Bulfinch.</i> Cambridge,
+Mass., 1946.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kimball, F.</span> <i>American Architecture.</i> Indianapolis,
+1928.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Kimball, F.</span> <i>Domestic Architecture of the American
+Colonies and of the Early Republic.</i> New York,
+1922.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Jackson, H.</span> <i>New York Architecture, 1650-1952.</i>
+New York, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>McCallum, I.</span> <i>Architecture U.S.A.</i> London,
+1959.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mock, E.</span> (ed.). <i>Built in U.S.A., 1932-1944.</i> New
+York, 1944.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='pageno' id='Page_478'>478</span><span class='sc'>Mumford, L.</span> <i>The Brown Decades.</i> 2nd ed. New
+York [1955].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mumford, L.</span> <i>Roots of Contemporary American
+Architecture.</i> New York, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mumford, L.</span> <i>From the Ground Up.</i> New York
+[1957].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Mumford, L.</span> <i>Sticks and Stones.</i> New York, 1924.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Newcomb, R.</span> <i>Architecture of the Old North-West
+Territory.</i> Chicago, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Newcomb, R.</span> <i>Architecture in Old Kentucky.</i> Urbana,
+Ill., 1953.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Nichols, F. D.</span>, and <span class='sc'>Johnston, F. B.</span> <i>The Early
+Architecture of Georgia.</i> Chapel Hill, 1957.</p>
+<p class='c034'>‘One Hundred Years of Significant Building’,
+<i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>CXIX</span> (June 1956-June 1957)
+(a series of monthly features).</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Randall, F.</span> <i>History of the Development of Building
+Construction in Chicago.</i> Urbana, Ill., 1949.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Roos, F. J.</span> <i>Writings on Early American Architecture.</i>
+Columbus, 1943.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Schuyler, M.</span> <i>American Architecture.</i> New York,
+1892; new ed. (ed. W. Jordy and R. E. Coe),
+Cambridge, Mass., 1961.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Scully, V. J.</span> <i>The Shingle Style.</i> New Haven,
+1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Sheldon, G. W.</span> <i>Artistic County Seats.</i> 2 vols.
+New York, 1886-[7].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Tallmadge, T.</span> <i>Architecture in Old Chicago.</i>
+Chicago, 1941.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Tallmadge, T.</span> <i>The Story of Architecture in
+America.</i> London [1928].</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>Tunnard, C.</span> <i>American Skyline.</i> Boston, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>White, T.</span> (ed.). <i>Philadelphia Architecture in the
+Nineteenth Century.</i> Philadelphia, 1953.</p>
+<h3 class='c030'>MONOGRAPHS</h3>
+<p class='c036'><span class='sc'>Aalto</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gutheim, F. <i>Alvar Aalto.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Labò, G. <i>Alvar Aalto.</i> Milan, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Neuenschwander, E. and C. <i>Finnish Buildings;
+Atelier Alvar Aalto, 1950-1951.</i> Erlenbach-Zurich,
+1954.</p>
+<p class='c038'><span class='sc'>Adam</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Adam, R., and J. <i>The Works in Architecture.</i> 2
+vols. London, 1778-9.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Bolton, A. T. <i>Robert and James Adam.</i> 2 vols.
+London, 1922.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Fleming, J. <i>Robert Adam and his Circle.</i> London,
+1962.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Asplund</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Zevi, B. <i>E. Gunnar Asplund.</i> Milan, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Holmdahl, G., Lind, S., and Ödeen, K. (eds.).</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Gunnar Asplund Architect, 1885-1940.</i> Stockholm [n.d.].</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Baker</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Baker, Sir Herbert. <i>Architecture and Personalities.</i>
+London, 1944.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Ballu</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Sédille, P. <i>Théodore Ballu.</i> Paris, 1886.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Baltard</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Decouchy, M. <i>Victor Baltard.</i> Paris, 1875.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Barry (C.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Barry, A. <span class='sc'>The Life and Works of Sir C. Barry.</span>
+London, 1867.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Belluschi</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Stubblebine, J. <i>The Northwest Architecture of
+Pietro Belluschi.</i> New York, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Behrens</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Cremers, P. <i>Peter Behrens, sein Work von 1900 bis
+zur Gegenwart.</i> Essen, 1928.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Hoeber, F. <i>Peter Behrens.</i> Munich, 1913.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Bentley</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>De L’Hôpital, W. <i>Westminster Cathedral and its
+Architect.</i> 2 vols. London [1919].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Scott-Moncrieff, W. <i>John Francis Bentley.</i> London,
+1924.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Berlage</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gratama, J. <i>Dr H. P. Berlage Bouwmeester.</i> Rotterdam,
+1925.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Bindesbøll</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bramsen, H. <i>Gottlieb Bindesbøll, Liv og Arbejder.</i>
+Copenhagen, 1959.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Blomfield</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Blomfield, Sir Reginald. <i>Memoirs of an Architect.</i>
+London, 1932.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Böhm</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Schwarz, R. ‘Dominikus Böhm’, <i>Kunst und
+Werkform</i>, <span class='fss'>VIII</span> (1955), 72-86.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Bonatz</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Tamms, F. <i>Paul Bonatz.</i> Stuttgart, 1937.</p>
+<p class='c031'><a id='Boullee'></a>
+<span class='sc'>Boullée</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Kaufmann, E. <i>Three Revolutionary Architects,
+Boullée, Ledoux, and Lequeu.</i> Philadelphia,
+1952.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rosenau, H. <i>Boullée’s Treatise on Architecture.</i>
+London, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Breuer</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Argan, G. C. <i>Marcel Breuer: disegno industriale e
+architettura.</i> Milan [1957].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Blake, P. <i>Marcel Breuer: Architect and Designer.</i>
+New York, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Brodrick</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Wilson, T. B. <i>Two Leeds Architects: Cuthbert
+Brodrick and George Corson.</i> Leeds, 1937.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='pageno' id='Page_479'>479</span><span class='sc'>Brongniart</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Silvestre de Sacy, J. <i>Alexandre-Théodore Brongniart.</i>
+Paris, 1940.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Brunel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Rolt, L. T. C. <i>Isambard Kingdom Brunel.</i> London,
+1957.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Bulfinch</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Place, C. <i>Charles Bulfinch: Architect and Citizen.</i>
+Boston, 1925-7.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Burges</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Pullan, A. <i>Architectural Designs of William Burges.</i>
+2 vols. London, 1883-7.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Burnham</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Moore, C. <i>Daniel H. Burnham.</i> 2 vols. Boston
+and New York, 1921.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>The Architectural work of Graham, Anderson,
+Probst &amp; White ... and their Predecessors D. H.
+Burnham &amp; Co. and Graham, Burnham &amp; Co.</i>
+2 vols. London, 1933.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Butterfield</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Summerson, J. N. ‘William Butterfield’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXIV</span> (Dec. 1945), 166-75. Reprinted
+in <i>Heavenly Mansions</i>, 159-76.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Cram</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Maginnis, C. <i>The Work of Cram and Ferguson,
+Architects.</i> New York, 1929.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Cuijpers</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Cuijpers, J. T. J. <i>Het Werk van Dr P. J. H. Cuijpers,
+1827-1917.</i> Amsterdam, 1917.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Davis, A. J.</span> See <span class='sc'><a href='#Town1'>Town</a></span>.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>D’Aronco</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Nicoletti, M. <i>Raimondo D’Aronco.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Delano &amp; Aldrich</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Delano &amp; Aldrich. <i>Portraits of Ten Country
+Houses.</i> New York, 1924.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Desprez</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Wollin, N. <i>Desprez en Italie.</i> Malmö, 1934.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wollin, N. <i>Desprez en Suède.</i> Stockholm,
+1939.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Duc</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Sédille, P. <i>Joseph-Louis Duc, architecte (1802-1879).</i>
+Paris, 1879.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Dudok</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Willem M. Dudok.</i> [Amsterdam, 1954].</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Eidlitz</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Schuyler, M. ‘A Great American Architect:
+Leopold Eidlitz’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>XXIV</span>
+(1908), 163-79, 277-92,364-78.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Eiffel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bresset, M. <i>Gustave Eiffel, 1832-1923.</i> Milan [1957].</p>
+
+<p class='c039'>Prevost, J. <i>Eiffel.</i> Paris, 1929.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Fischer</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Karlinger, H. <i>Theodor Fischer: ein deutscher Baumeister.</i>
+Munich, 1937.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Fisker</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Langkilde, H. E. <i>Arkitekten Kay Fisker.</i> Copenhagen, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Furness</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Campbell, W. ‘Frank Furness, an American Pioneer’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CX</span> (1951), 310-15.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Garnier (C.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Moyaux, C. <i>Notice sur la vie et les œuvres de M.
+Charles Garnier.</i> Paris, 1899.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Garnier (T.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Badovici, J., and Morancé, A. <i>L’Œuvre de Tony
+Garnier.</i> Paris, 1938.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Veronesi, G. <i>Tony Garnier.</i> Milan, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gärtner</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Moninger, H. <i>Friedrich Gärtner.</i> Munich, 1882.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gaudí</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bergós, J. <i>Antoni Gaudí l’home i l’obra.</i> Barcelona, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Collins, G. <i>Antonio Gaudí.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Martinell, C. <i>Gaudinismo.</i> Barcelona, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Ráfols, J. <i>Gaudí.</i> Barcelona, 1929; 2nd ed., 1952.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Sweeney, J. J., and Sert, J. Ll. <i>Antoni Gaudí.</i> New York [1960].</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gentz</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Doebber, A. <i>Heinrich Gentz.</i> Berlin, 1916.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gilbert</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gilbert, Cass. <i>Reminiscences and Addresses.</i> New York, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gilly</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Oncken, A. <i>Friedrich Gilly.</i> Berlin, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rietdorf, A. <i>Gilly</i>, 1940.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Godwin</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Harbron, D. <i>The Conscious Stone: The Life of Edward
+William Godwin.</i> London, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Goodhue</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Whitaker, C. (ed.). <i>Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue—Architect
+and Master of Many Arts.</i> New York, 1925.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Greenway</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Ellis, M. H. <i>Francis Greenway: his Life and Times.</i>
+Sydney and London, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Gropius (W.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Argan, G. C. <i>Walter Gropius e la Bauhaus.</i> Turin, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Giedion, S. <i>Walter Gropius.</i> London, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Gropius, W. <i>The New Architecture and the Bauhaus.</i> New York, 1936.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hansen (C. F.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hansen, C. F. <i>Samling af forskjellige offentlige og
+private Bygninger.</i> Copenhagen, 1847.</p>
+<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_480'>480</span>Langberg, H. <i>Omkring C. F. Hansen.</i> [Copenhagen]
+1950.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rubow, J. <i>C. F. Hansens arkitektur.</i> Copenhagen,
+1936.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hansen (T.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Niemann, J., and Feldegg, F. von. <i>Theophilus
+Hansen und seine Werke.</i> Vienna, 1893.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hastings</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gray, D. <i>Thomas Hastings: Architect.</i> Boston,
+1933.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Herholdt</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Fisker, K. <i>Omkring Herholdt.</i> Copenhagen, 1943.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hittorff</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Normand, A. <i>Notice historique sur ... J. I. Hittorff,
+architecte.</i> Paris, 1867.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hitzig</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hitzig, F. <i>Ausgeführte Bauwerke.</i> 2 vols. Berlin [1850].</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hoffmann</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Kleiner, L. <i>Josef Hoffmann.</i> Berlin, 1927.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Veronesi, G. <i>Josef Hoffmann.</i> Milan, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Weiser, A. <i>Josef Hoffmann.</i> Geneva, 1930.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hood</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>North, A. T. <i>Raymond M. Hood.</i> New York,
+1931.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hooker</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Root, E. <i>Philip Hooker.</i> New York, 1929.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Horta</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Madsen, S. T. ‘Horta: Works and Style of Victor
+Horta before 1900’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXVIII</span> (1955), 388-92.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Howe</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>(See Note <a href='#f486' class='c025'><sup>[486]</sup></a> to Chapter <a href='#ch23n'>23</a>.)</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hübsch</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hübsch, H. <i>Bauwerke.</i> Karlsruhe, 1842.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Valdenaire, A. <i>Heinrich Hübsch.</i> Karlsruhe, 1926.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Hunt</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Schuyler, M. ‘The Works of the late Richard
+Morris Hunt’, <i>Architectural Record</i>, <span class='fss'>V</span> (Oct.-Dec.,
+1895), 97-180.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Huvé</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Le Normand. <i>Notice biographique sur J.-J.-M.
+Huvé.</i> Paris, 1853.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Jacobsen</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Pederson, J. <i>Arkitekten Arne Jacobsen.</i> Copenhagen,
+1957.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Jappelli</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Carta Mantiglia, R. ‘Giuseppe Jappelli, Architetto’,
+<i>L’Architettura</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1955), 538-51.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. ‘An Italian Miscellany—Pedrocchino
+and Some Allied Problems’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXX</span> (1957).</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Jefferson</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Kimball, F. <i>Thomas Jefferson, Architect.</i> Boston,
+1916.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Johnson</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Jacobus, J. M. <i>Philip Johnson.</i> New York,
+1962.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Kahn</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Nelson, G. <i>The Industrial Architecture of Albert
+Kahn</i>. New York, 1939.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Klenze</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Klenze, L. von. <i>Sammlung architektonischer Entwürfe.</i>
+10 pts. Munich, 1830-50.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>de Klerk</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Kramer, P. <i>M. de Klerk.</i> <i>Wendingen</i>, <span class='fss'>VI</span> (1924),
+Nos 4 and 5.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Kornhäusel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Thausig, P. <i>Joseph Kornhäusel.</i> Vienna, 1916.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Labrouste (H.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Souvenirs d’Henri Labrouste: notes recueillies et
+classées part ses enfants.</i> Paris, 1928.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Laloux</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Cox, H. B. ‘Victor Laloux; the Man and his
+Work’, <i>Architects’ Journal</i>, <span class='fss'>LI</span> (1920), 555-7.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Langhans</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hinrichs, W. <i>Karl Gotthard Langhans.</i> Strassburg,
+1909.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Latrobe</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hamlin, T. F. <i>Benjamin Henry Latrobe.</i> New
+York, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Laugier</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Herrmann, W. <i>Laugier and Eighteenth-Century
+French Theorists.</i> London, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Le Bas</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Vaudoyer, L. <i>Notice historique sur la vie et les
+ouvrages de M. Le Bas.</i> Paris, 1869.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Le Corbusier</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Boesiger, W. <i>Le Corbusier &amp; Pierre Jeanneret:
+Œuvre complète.</i> 6 vols. Zurich, 1937-57.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Boesiger, W., and Ginsberger, H. <i>Le Corbusier
+His Works 1910-1960.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Le Corbusier. <i>My Work.</i> London [1960].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Papadaki, S. (ed.). <i>Le Corbusier: Architect, Painter,
+Writer.</i> New York, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Ledoux</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Ledoux, C.-N. <i>L’Architecture considérée sous le rapport
+de l’art, des mœurs et de la législation.</i> Paris,
+1804. [Reprint], 2 vols. Paris, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Raval, M., and Moreux, J.-Ch. <i>C.-N. Ledoux.</i>
+Paris, 1945.</p>
+<p class='c037'>See also <span class='sc'><a href='#Boullee'>Boullée</a></span>.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Lefuel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Delaborde, H. <i>Notice sur la vie et les ouvrages de
+M. Lefuel.</i> Paris, 1882.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='pageno' id='Page_481'>481</span><span class='sc'>Lethaby</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>‘William Richard Lethaby, 1857-1931; a Symposium
+in Honour of his Centenary’, <i>Journal
+of the Royal Institute of British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LXIV</span>
+(1957), 218-25.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Loos</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Glück, F. <i>Adolf Loos.</i> Paris, 1931.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Kulka, H. <i>Adolf Loos, das Werk des Architekten.</i>
+Vienna, 1931.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Münz, H. <i>Adolf Loos.</i> Milan, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Lurçat</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>André Lurçat; projets et réalisations.</i> Paris, 1929.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Lutyens</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Butler, A. S. G. <i>The Architecture of Sir Edwin Lutyens.</i>
+3 vols. London, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Hussey, C. <i>The Life of Sir Edwin Lutyens.</i> London,
+1950.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Weaver, L. <i>Houses and Gardens by E. L. Lutyens.</i>
+London, 1913. Second edition 1921.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Maillart</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bill, M. <i>Robert Maillart.</i> Zurich, 1949.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mackintosh</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Howarth, T. <i>Charles Rennie Mackintosh and the
+Modern Movement.</i> London, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. <i>Charles Rennie Mackintosh.</i> Milan,
+1950.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mackmurdo</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. ‘Arthur H. Mackmurdo’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXXIII</span> (1938), 141-3.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pond, E. ‘Mackmurdo Gleanings’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>CXXVIII</span> (1960), 429-31.</p>
+<p class='c031'><a id='McKim'></a><a id='Mead'></a><a id='White'></a>
+<span class='sc'>McKim, Mead &amp; White</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>A Monograph of the Work of McKim, Mead and
+White.</i> 4 vols. New York, 1915-25.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mendelsohn</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Mendelsohn, E. <i>Briefe und Auszeichnungen eines Architekten</i>, 8 vols. 1961.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Whittick, A. <i>Eric Mendelsohn.</i> 2nd ed. London [1956].</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Erich Mendelsohn: das Gesamtschaffen des Architekten.</i>
+Berlin, 1930.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mengoni</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Ricci, G. <i>La Vita e le opere dell’ architetto Giuseppe
+Mengoni.</i> Bologna, 1930.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Messel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Behrendt, W. C. <i>Alfred Messel.</i> Berlin, 1911.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mies van der Rohe</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bill, M. <i>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Drexler, A. <i>Ludwig Mies van der Rohe.</i> New
+York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Johnson, P. <i>Mies van der Rohe.</i> 2nd ed. New
+York, 1953; German ed., Stuttgart [n.d.].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Hilbersheimer, L. <i>Mies van der Rohe.</i> Chicago,
+1956.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Mills</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gallagher, H. <i>Robert Mills.</i> New York, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Nash</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Davis, T. <i>The Architecture of John Nash.</i> London,
+1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Summerson, J. N. <i>John Nash, Architect to George
+IV.</i> London, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Nervi</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>The Works of Pierluigi Nervi.</i> [Stuttgart] and
+London, 1957.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Argan, G. C. <i>Pierluigi Nervi.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Nervi, P. <i>Costruire correttamente.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Nesfield</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Brydon, J. M. ‘William Eden Nesfield, 1835-1888’,
+<i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1897), 235-7,
+283-95.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Creswell, B. ‘William Eden Nesfield, 1835-1888:
+An Impression’, <i>Architectural Review</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span>
+(1897), 23-32.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Neutra</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>McCoy, E. <i>Richard Neutra.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Zevi, B. <i>Richard Neutra.</i> Milan, 1954.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Richard Neutra, Buildings and Projects.</i> Zurich,
+1955.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Newton</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Newton, W. G. <i>The Work of Ernest Newton, R.A.</i>
+London, 1923.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Niemeyer</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Papadaki, S. <i>The Work of Oscar Niemeyer.</i> New
+York, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Papadaki, S. <i>Oscar Niemeyer: Works in Progress.</i>
+New York, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Papadaki, S. <i>Oscar Niemeyer.</i> New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Olbrich</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Architektur von Professor Joseph M. Olbrich.</i> 3 vols.
+Berlin, 1903-7.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Lux, J. A. <i>Josef Maria Olbrich.</i> Vienna, 1919.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Veronesi, G. <i>Josef Maria Olbrich.</i> Milan, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Oud</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Architect J. J. P. Oud.</i> Rotterdam, 1951.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Hitchcock, H.-R. <i>J. J. P. Oud.</i> Paris, 1931.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Veronesi, G. <i>J. J. Pieter Oud.</i> Milan, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Paxton</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Chadwick, G. F. <i>The Works of Sir Joseph Paxton.</i>
+London [1961].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Markham, V. <i>Paxton and the Bachelor Duke.</i> London,
+1935.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Percier and Fontaine</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Fouché, M. <i>Percier et Fontaine.</i> Paris, 1905.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Perret</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Champigneulle, B. <i>Auguste Perret.</i> Paris, 1959.</p>
+<p class='c037'><span class='pageno' id='Page_482'>482</span>Collins, P. <i>Concrete—The Vision of a New
+Architecture</i>, pt. <span class='fss'>III</span>. London, 1959.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Jamot, P. <i>A.-G. Perret et l’architecture du béton
+armé.</i> Paris and Brussels, 1927.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rogers, E. <i>Auguste Perret.</i> Milan, 1955.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Architecture d’aujourd’hui</i>, 1932 (special issue on
+A. Perret).</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Persius</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>(See Note <a href='#f53' class='c025'><sup>[53]</sup></a> to Chapter <a href='#ch02n'>2</a>).</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Piranesi</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Focillon, H. <i>G. B. Piranesi.</i> Paris, 1918.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Platt</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Cortissoz, R. <i>Monograph of the Work of Charles A.
+Platt.</i> New York, 1913.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Poelzig</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Heuss, T. <i>Hans Poelzig.</i> Berlin, 1939.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Pugin</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Ferrey, B. <i>Recollections of A. N. Pugin and His
+Father A. Pugin.</i> London, 1861.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Gwynn, D. <i>Lord Shrewsbury, Pugin and The
+Catholic Revival.</i> London, 1946.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Trappes-Lomax, M. <i>Pugin, a Mediaeval Victorian.</i>
+London, 1932.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Reidy</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Franck, K. <i>The Works of Affonso Eduardo Reidy.</i>
+New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Giedion, S. <i>The Works of Eduardo Affonso Reidy.</i>
+New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Revett.</i> See <span class='sc'>Stuart</span>.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Richardson</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hitchcock, H.-R. <i>The Architecture of H. H.
+Richardson and His Times.</i> 2nd ed. Hamden,
+Conn., 1961.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Van Rensselaer, M. G. <i>Henry Hobson Richardson
+and His Works.</i> Boston and New York, 1888.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Rietveld</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Brown, T. M. <i>The Work of G. Rietveld.</i> Utrecht,
+1958.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Rohault de Fleury</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Rohault de Fleury, C. <i>Œuvre.</i> Paris, 1884.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Roux-Spitz</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Roux-Spitz, M. <i>Réalisations</i>, 1924-39. 2 vols.
+Paris [n.d.].</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Saarinen</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Christ-Janer, A. <i>Eliel Saarinen.</i> Chicago, 1948.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Sant’ Elia</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Banham, P. R. ‘Sant’ Elia’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXVII</span> (1955), 295-301; <span class='fss'>CXIX</span> (1956), 343-4.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Mariani, L. ‘Disegni inediti di Sant’ Elia’,
+<i>L’Architettura</i>, <span class='fss'>I</span> (1955-6), 210-15, 704-7.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Schinkel</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Griesebach, A. <i>Karl Friedrich Schinkel.</i> Leipzig,
+1924.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. ‘Schinkel’, <i>Journal of the Royal
+Institute of British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LIX</span> (1952).</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rave, P., and others. <i>Karl Friedrich Schinkel
+Lebenswerk</i>, vol. [<span class='fss'>I</span>]-. Berlin, 1941-.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Schinkel, K. F. <i>Sammlung architektonischer Entwürfe ... </i> Berlin, 1819-40.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wolzogen, A. F. von. <i>Aus Schinkels Nachlass.</i> 3
+vols. Berlin, 1862-4.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Scott (G. G.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Scott, G. G. <i>Personal and Professional Recollections
+by the late Sir George Gilbert Scott.</i> London,
+1879.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Scott (Baillie)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Scott, M. H. B. <i>Houses and Gardens.</i> London, 1906.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Selva</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bassi, E. <i>Giannantonio Selva, architetto veneziano.</i>
+Padua, 1936.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Semper</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Ettlinger, L. <i>Gottfried Semper und die Antike.</i>
+Halle, 1937.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Semper, G. <i>Der Stil in den technischen und architektonischen
+Künsten.</i> Frankfurt, 1860.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Shaw</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Blomfield, Sir R. <i>Richard Norman Shaw, R.A.</i>
+London, 1940.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. ‘Richard Norman Shaw’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXXIX</span> (1941), 41-6.</p>
+<p class='c037'>See also <span class='sc'><a href='#Webb'>Webb</a></span>.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Soane</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Bolton, A. T. <i>The Works of Sir John Soane.</i> London,
+1924.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Bolton, A. T. <i>The Portrait of Sir John Soane.</i>
+London, 1927.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Stroud, D. <i>The Architecture of Sir John Soane.</i>
+London [1961].</p>
+<p class='c037'>Summerson, J. N. ‘Soane: the Case-History of a
+Personal Style’, <i>Journal of the Royal Institute of
+British Architects</i>, <span class='fss'>LVIII</span> (1951), 83-9.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Sommaruga</span></p>
+<p class='c037'><i>L’Architettura di Giuseppe Sommaruga.</i> Milan,
+1908.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Soufflot</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Mondain-Monval, J. <i>Soufflot.</i> Paris, 1918.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Street</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Hitchcock, H. R. ‘G. E. Street in the 1850s’,
+<i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XIX</span> (1960), 145-72.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Street, A. E. <i>Memoir of George Edmund Street.</i>
+London, 1888.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Strickland</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gilchrist, A. A. <i>William Strickland: Architect and
+Engineer.</i> Philadelphia, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Gilchrist, A. A. ‘Additions to William Strickland
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_483'>483</span><i>Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians</i>,
+<span class='fss'>XIII</span> (Oct., 1954), sup. 1-16.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Stuart</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Lawrence, L. ‘Stuart and Revett; their Literary
+and Architectural Careers’, <i>Journal of the Warburg
+Institute</i>, <span class='fss'>II</span> (1938), 128-46.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Sullivan</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Connely, W. <i>Louis Sullivan as He Lived.</i> New
+York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Morrison, H. <i>Louis Sullivan.</i> New York, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Sullivan, L. H. <i>The Autobiography of an Idea.</i> New
+York, 1953.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Sullivan, L. H. <i>Kindergarten Chats.</i> New York,
+1947.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Telford</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gibb, A. <i>The Story of Telford.</i> London, 1935.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Life of Thomas Telford, Civil Engineer, written by
+himself.</i> London, 1838.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Rolt, L. T. C. <i>Thomas Telford.</i> London, 1958.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Terragni</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Labò, M. <i>Giuseppe Terragni.</i> Milan, 1947.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Thomson</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Law, G. ‘Greek Thomson’, <i>Architectural Review</i>,
+<span class='fss'>CXVI</span> (1954), 307-16.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Town &amp; Davis</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Newton, R. H. <i>Town and Davis: Architects.</i> New
+York, 1942.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Upjohn</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Upjohn, E. <i>Richard Upjohn, Architect and Churchman.</i>
+New York, 1939.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Van de Velde</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Osthaus, K. <i>Van de Velde; Leben und Schaffen des
+Künstlers.</i> Hagen, 1920.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Casteels, M. <i>Henry van de Velde.</i> Brussels, 1932.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Viollet-le-Duc</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Gout, P. <i>Viollet-le-Duc; sa vie, son œuvre, sa doctrine.</i>
+Paris, 1914.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Voronikhin</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Panov, V. A. <i>Arkhitektor A. N. Voronikhin.</i> Moscow,
+1937.</p>
+<p class='c037'>See also <span class='sc'><a href='#Zakharov'>Zakharov</a></span>.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Voysey</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Betjeman, J. ‘Charles Francis Annesley Voysey;
+The Architect of Individualism’, <i>Architectural
+Review</i>, <span class='fss'>LXX</span> (1931), 93-6.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. ‘Charles Francis Annesley Voysey’,
+<i>Elsevier’s Maandschrift</i>, 1940, 343-55.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Brandon-Jones, J. ‘Voysey’, <i>Journal of the Architectural
+Association</i> (1957).</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Wagner</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Lux, J. A. <i>Otto Wagner.</i> Berlin, 1919.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wagner, O. <i>Einige Skizzen, Projekte und ausgeführte
+Bauwerke.</i> 4 vols. Vienna, 1890-1922.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Wahlman</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Lind, S., and others (eds.). <i>Verk av L. I. Wahlman.</i>
+Stockholm, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Walter</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Newcomb, R. ‘Thomas U. Walter’, <i>The Architect</i>,
+August, 1928.</p>
+<p class='c031'><a id='Webb'></a>
+<span class='sc'>Webb</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Lethaby, W. <i>Philip Webb and his Work.</i> London,
+1935.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Brandon-Jones, J. ‘The Work of Philip Webb
+and Norman Shaw’, <i>Architectural Association
+Journal</i>, <span class='fss'>LXXI</span> (1955), 9-21.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Weinbrenner</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Valdenaire, A. <i>Friedrich Weinbrenner, sein Leben
+und seine Bauten.</i> Karlsruhe, 1919.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>White</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Baldwin, C. <i>Stanford White.</i> New York, 1931.</p>
+<p class='c037'>See also <span class='sc'><a href='#McKim'>McKim</a></span>, <span class='sc'><a href='#Mead'>Mead</a></span> &amp; <span class='sc'><a href='#White'>White</a></span></p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Wright</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Drexler, A. <i>The Drawings of Frank Lloyd Wright.</i>
+New York, 1962.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Frank Lloyd Wright Drawings for a Living Architecture.</i>
+New York, 1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Gutheim, F. (ed.). <i>Frank Lloyd Wright on Architecture:
+Selected Writings, 1894-1940.</i> New
+York, 1941.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Hitchcock, H.-R. <i>In the Nature of Materials; the
+Buildings of Frank Lloyd Wright, 1887-1941.</i>
+New York, 1942.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Kaufmann, E. <i>Taliesin Drawings; Recent Architecture
+of Frank Lloyd Wright.</i> New York, 1952.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Kaufmann, E., and Raeburn, B. <i>Frank Lloyd
+Wright Writings and Buildings.</i> New York,
+1960.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Manson, G. C. <i>Frank Lloyd Wright to 1910.</i> New
+York, 1958.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wijdeveld, H. T. (ed.). <i>The Life Work of the
+American Architect, Frank Lloyd Wright.</i>
+Amsterdam, 1925.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wright, F. Ll. <i>An Autobiography.</i> New York, 1943.</p>
+<p class='c037'>Wright, F. Ll. <i>A Testament.</i> New York, 1957.</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Ausgeführte Bauten und Entwürfe von Frank Lloyd
+Wright.</i> [Berlin, 1910].</p>
+<p class='c037'><i>Frank Lloyd Wright: Ausgeführte Bauten</i> (introduction
+by C. R. Ashbee). Berlin, 1911.</p>
+<p class='c037'>‘Frank Lloyd Wright’, <i>Architectural Forum</i>, <span class='fss'>XCIV</span>
+(Jan., 1951), 73-108.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Wyatt (J.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Dale, A. <i>James Wyatt.</i> Oxford, 1956.</p>
+<p class='c031'><span class='sc'>Wyatt (M. D.)</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Pevsner, N. <i>Matthew Digby Wyatt.</i> London, 1950.</p>
+<p class='c031'><a id='Zakharov'></a>
+<span class='sc'>Zakharov</span></p>
+<p class='c037'>Arkin, D. <i>Zakharov i Voronikhin.</i> Moscow, 1953.</p>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_484'>484</span>
+  <h2 class='c013'>THE PLATES</h2>
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c001' />
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl001'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_485'>485</span>
+<img src='images/pl001.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>1 J.-G. Soufflot and others: Paris, Panthéon (Sainte-Geneviève), 1757-90</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl002a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_486'>486</span>
+<img src='images/pl002a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>2 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) C.-N. Ledoux: Paris, Barrière de la Villette, 1784-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl002b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl002b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>2 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) C.-N. Ledoux: Project for Coopery, <i>c.</i> 1785</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl002c'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl002c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>(<span class='fss'>C</span>) L.-E. Boullée: Project for City Hall, <i>c.</i> 1785</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl003'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_487'>487</span>
+<img src='images/pl003.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>3 Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Consols Office, 1794</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl004a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_488'>488</span>
+<img src='images/pl004a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>4 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Waiting Room Court, 1804</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl004b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl004b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>4 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) C. F. Hansen: Copenhagen, Vor Frue Kirke, 1811-29</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl005'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_489'>489</span>
+<img src='images/pl005.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>5 Benjamin H. Latrobe: Baltimore, Maryland, Catholic Cathedral, 1805-18</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl006a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_490'>490</span>
+<img src='images/pl006a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>6 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sir John Soane: Tyringham, Buckinghamshire, Entrance Gate, 1792-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl006b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl006b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>6 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Percier and Fontaine: Paris, Rue de Rivoli, 1802-55</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl007'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_491'>491</span>
+<img src='images/pl007.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>7 J.-F.-T. Chalgrin and others: Paris, Arc de Triomphe de l’Étoile, 1806-35</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl008a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_492'>492</span>
+<img src='images/pl008a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>8 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Thomas de Thomon: Petersburg, Bourse, 1804-16</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl008b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl008b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>8 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) A.-T. Brongniart and others: Paris, Bourse, 1808-15</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl009a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_493'>493</span>
+<img src='images/pl009a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>9 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Friedrich Gilly: Project for monument to Frederick the Great, 1797</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl009b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl009b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>9 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Leo von Klenze: Munich, Glyptothek, 1816-30</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl010a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_494'>494</span>
+<img src='images/pl010a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>10 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Friedrich Weinbrenner: Karlsruhe, Marktplatz, 1804-24</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl010b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl010b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>10 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Friedrich von Gärtner: Munich, Ludwigskirche and Staatsbibliothek, 1829-40 and 1831-40</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl011a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_495'>495</span>
+<img src='images/pl011a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>11 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Heinrich Hübsch: Baden-Baden, Trinkhalle, 1840</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl011b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl011b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>11 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Wimmel &amp; Forsmann: Hamburg, Johanneum, 1836-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl012'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_496'>496</span>
+<img src='images/pl012.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>12 K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Schauspielhaus, 1819-21</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl013'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_497'>497</span>
+<img src='images/pl013.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>13 K. F. von Schinkel: Berlin, Altes Museum, 1824-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl014a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_498'>498</span>
+<img src='images/pl014a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>14 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) K. F. von Schinkel: Potsdam, Court Gardener’s House, 1829-31</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl014b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl014b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>14 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) G. L. F. Laves: Hanover, Opera House, 1845-52</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl015'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_499'>499</span>
+<img src='images/pl015.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>15 Ludwig Persius: Potsdam, Friedenskirche, 1845-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl016a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_500'>500</span>
+<img src='images/pl016a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>16 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Leo von Klenze: Regensburg (nr), Walhalla, 1831-42]</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl016b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl016b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>16 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) M. G. B. Bindesbøll: Copenhagen, Thorwaldsen Museum, Court, 1839-48</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl017a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_501'>501</span>
+<img src='images/pl017a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>17 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Friedrich von Gärtner: Athens, Old Palace, 1837-41</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl017b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl017b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>17 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Peter Speeth: Würzburg, Frauenzuchthaus, 1809</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl018a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_502'>502</span>
+<img src='images/pl018a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>18 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) P.-F.-L. Fontaine: Paris, Chapelle Expiatoire, 1816-24</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl018b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl018b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>18 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) L.-H. Lebas: Paris, Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, 1823-36</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl019'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_503'>503</span>
+<img src='images/pl019.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>19 J.-B. Lepère and J.-I. Hittorff: Paris, Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, 1824-44</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl020'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_504'>504</span>
+<img src='images/pl020.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>20 Douillard Frères: Nantes, Hospice Général, 1832-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl021'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_505'>505</span>
+<img src='images/pl021.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>21 H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, 1843-50</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl022a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_506'>506</span>
+<img src='images/pl022a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>22 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) É.-H. Godde and J.-B. Lesueur:<br />Paris, extension of Hôtel de Ville, 1837-49</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl022b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl022b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>22 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) F.-A. Duquesney: Paris, Gare de l’Est, 1847-52</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl023a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_507'>507</span>
+<img src='images/pl023a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>23 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Giuseppe Jappelli and Antonio Gradenigo: Padua, Caffè Pedrocchi, 1816-31</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl023b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl023b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>23 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Antonio Niccolini: Naples, San Carlo Opera House, 1810-12</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl024'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_508'>508</span>
+<img src='images/pl024.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>24 Raffaelle Stern: Rome, Vatican Museum, Braccio Nuovo, 1817-21</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl025'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_509'>509</span>
+<img src='images/pl025.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>25 A. de. Simone: Caserta, Royal Palace, Sala di Marte, 1807</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl026a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_510'>510</span>
+<img src='images/pl026a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>26 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Pietro Bianchi: Naples, San Francesco di Paola, 1816-24</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl026b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl026b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>26 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Giuseppe Frizzi and others: Turin, Piazza Vittorio Veneto,<br />laid out in 1818, with Gran Madre di Dio by Ferdinando Bonsignore, 1818-31</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl027a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_511'>511</span>
+<img src='images/pl027a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>27 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) A. A. Monferran: Petersburg, St Isaac’s Cathedral, 1817-57</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl027b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl027b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>27(<span class='fss'>B</span>) A. A. Monferran: Petersburg, Alexander Column, 1829; and K. I. Rossi: Petersburg, General Staff Arches, 1819-29</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl027c'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl027c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>(<span class='fss'>C</span>) A.-J. Pellechet: Paris, block of flats,<br />10 Place de la Bourse, 1834</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl028a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_512'>512</span>
+<img src='images/pl028a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>28 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sir John Soane: London, Royal Hospital, Chelsea, Stables, 1814-17</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl028b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl028b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>28 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Sir John Soane: London, Bank of England, Colonial Office, 1818-23</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl029'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_513'>513</span>
+<img src='images/pl029.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>29 Alexander Thomson: Glasgow, Caledonia Road Free Church, 1856-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl030'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_514'>514</span>
+<img src='images/pl030.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>30 John Nash: London, Piccadilly Circus and Lower Regent Street, 1817-19</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl031'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_515'>515</span>
+<img src='images/pl031.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>31 London, Hyde Park Corner: Decimus Burton, Screen, 1825; Arch, 1825;<br />William Wilkins, St George’s Hospital, 1827-8;<br />Benjamin Dean Wyatt, Apsley House, 1828</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl032'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_516'>516</span>
+<img src='images/pl032.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>32 John Nash and James Thomson: London, Regent’s Park, Cumberland Terrace.  1826-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl033'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_517'>517</span>
+<img src='images/pl033.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>33 Sir Robert Smirke: London, British Museum, south front, completed 1847</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl034a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_518'>518</span>
+<img src='images/pl034a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>34 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) H. L. Elmes: Liverpool, St George’s Hall, 1841-54</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl034b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl034b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>34 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) W. H. Playfair: Edinburgh, Royal Scottish Institution (<i>right</i>),<br />National Gallery of Scotland, and Free Church College,<br />1822-36, 1850-4, and 1846-50</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl035a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_519'>519</span>
+<img src='images/pl035a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>35 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Alexander Thomson: Glasgow, Moray Place, Strathbungo, 1859</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl035b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl035b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>35 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Sir Charles Barry: London, Travellers’ Club and Reform Club, 1830-2 and 1838-40</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl036'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_520'>520</span>
+<img src='images/pl036.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>36 J. W. Wild: London, Christ Church, Streatham, 1840-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl037a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_521'>521</span>
+<img src='images/pl037a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>37 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sir Charles Barry: original design for Highclere Castle, Hampshire, <i>c.</i> 1840</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl037b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl037b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>37 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Cuthbert Brodrick: Leeds, Corn Exchange, 1860-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl038a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_522'>522</span>
+<img src='images/pl038a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>38 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Robert Mills: Washington, Treasury Department, 1836-42</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl038b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl038b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>38 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Thomas Jefferson: Charlottesville, Va., University of Virginia, 1817-26</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl039a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_523'>523</span>
+<img src='images/pl039a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>39 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Thomas U. Walter and others: Columbus, Ohio, State Capitol, 1839-61</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl039b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl039b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>39 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) James C. Bucklin: Providence, R.I., Washington Buildings, 1843</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl040'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_524'>524</span>
+<img src='images/pl040.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>40 William Strickland: Philadelphia, Merchants’ Exchange, 1832-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl041'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_525'>525</span>
+<img src='images/pl041.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>41 Isaiah Rogers: Boston, Tremont House, 1828-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl042a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_526'>526</span>
+<img src='images/pl042a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>42 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) A. J. Davis: New York, Colonnade Row, 1832</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl042b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl042b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>42 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Russell Warren: Newport, R.I., Elmhyrst, <i>c.</i> 1833</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl043a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_527'>527</span>
+<img src='images/pl043a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>43 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Henry A. Sykes: Springfield, Mass., Stebbins house, 1849</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl043b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl043b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>43 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Alexander Parris: Boston, David Sears house, 1816</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl044'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_528'>528</span>
+<img src='images/pl044.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>44 Thomas A. Tefft: Providence, R.I., Union Station, begun 1848</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl045'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_529'>529</span>
+<img src='images/pl045.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>45 Amherst, Mass., Amherst College, Dormitories, 1821-2, Chapel 1827</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl046'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_530'>530</span>
+<img src='images/pl046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>46 William Clarke: Utica, N.Y., Insane Asylum, 1837-43</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl047a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_531'>531</span>
+<img src='images/pl047a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>47 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) John Notman: Philadelphia, Atheneum, 1845-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl047b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl047b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>47 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) J. M. J. Rebelo: Rio de Janeiro, Palacio Itamaratí, 1851-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl048'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_532'>532</span>
+<img src='images/pl048.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>48 John Nash: Brighton, Royal Pavilion, as remodelled 1815-23</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl049'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_533'>533</span>
+<img src='images/pl049.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>49 C. A. Busby: Gwrych Castle, near Abergele, completed 1815</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl050a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_534'>534</span>
+<img src='images/pl050a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>50 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) John Nash: Blaise Hamlet, near Bristol, 1811</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl050b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl050b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>50 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Thomas Rickman and H. Hutchinson: Cambridge, St John’s College, New Court, 1825-31</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl051'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_535'>535</span>
+<img src='images/pl051.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>51 G. M. Kemp: Edinburgh, Sir Walter Scott Monument, 1840-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl052a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_536'>536</span>
+<img src='images/pl052a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>52 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) A. W. N. Pugin: Cheadle, Staffordshire, St Giles’s, 1841-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl052b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl052b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>52 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Sir G. G. Scott: Hamburg, Nikolaikirche, 1845-63</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl053a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_537'>537</span>
+<img src='images/pl053a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>53 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Richard Upjohn: New York, Trinity Church, <i>c.</i> 1844-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl053b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl053b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>53 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Richard Upjohn: Utica, N.Y., City Hall, 1852-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl054'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_538'>538</span>
+<img src='images/pl054.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>54 Sir Charles Barry: London, Houses of Parliament, 1840-65</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl055a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_539'>539</span>
+<img src='images/pl055a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>55 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Salem, Mass., First Unitarian (North) Church, 1836-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl055b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl055b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>55 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) F.-C. Gau and Théodore Ballu: Paris, Sainte-Clotilde, 1846-57</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl056'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_540'>540</span>
+<img src='images/pl056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>56 E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: Paris, block of flats, Rue de Liège, 1846-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl057a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_541'>541</span>
+<img src='images/pl057a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>57 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Alexis de Chateauneuf and Fersenfeld:<br />Hamburg, Petrikirche, 1843-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl057b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl057b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>57 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) G. A. Demmler and F. A. Stüler: Schwerin, Schloss, 1844-57</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl058a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_542'>542</span>
+<img src='images/pl058a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>58 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) John Nash: Brighton, Royal Pavilion, Kitchen, 1818-21</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl058b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl058b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>58 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Thomas Telford: Menai Strait, Menai Bridge, 1819-24</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl059'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_543'>543</span>
+<img src='images/pl059.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>59 Thomas Telford: Craigellachie Bridge, 1815</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl060a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_544'>544</span>
+<img src='images/pl060a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>60 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) John A. Roebling: Niagara Falls,<br />Suspension Bridge, 1852</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl060b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl060b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>60 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Thomas Hopper: London, Carlton House,<br />Conservatory, 1811-12</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl061'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_545'>545</span>
+<img src='images/pl061.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>61 Robert Stephenson and Francis Thompson: Menai Strait, Britannia Bridge, 1845-50</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl062a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_546'>546</span>
+<img src='images/pl062a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>62 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Grisart &amp; Froehlicher: Paris, Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie,<br />section, 1838</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl062b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl062b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>62 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Robert Stephenson and Francis Thompson:<br />Derby, Trijunct Railway Station, 1839-41</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl063'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_547'>547</span>
+<img src='images/pl063.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>63 J. B. Bunning: London, Coal Exchange, 1846-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl064'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_548'>548</span>
+<img src='images/pl064.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>64 Sir Joseph Paxton and Fox &amp; Henderson: London, Crystal Palace, 1850-1</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl065'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_549'>549</span>
+<img src='images/pl065.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>65 I. K. Brunel and Sir M. D. Wyatt: London, Paddington Station, 1852-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl066a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_550'>550</span>
+<img src='images/pl066a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>66 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Lewis Cubitt: London, King’s Cross Station, 1851-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl066b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl066b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>66 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Karl Etzel: Vienna, Dianabad, 1841-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl067a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_551'>551</span>
+<img src='images/pl067a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>67 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Decimus Burton and Richard Turner: Kew, Palm Stove, 1845-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl067b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl067b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>67 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) James Bogardus: New York, Laing Stores, 1849</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl068'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_552'>552</span>
+<img src='images/pl068.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>68 L.-T.-J. Visconti and H.-M. Lefuel: Paris, New Louvre, 1852-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl069'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_553'>553</span>
+<img src='images/pl069.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>69 H.-P.-F. Labrouste: Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Reading Room, 1862-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl070a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_554'>554</span>
+<img src='images/pl070a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>70 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) H.-J. Espérandieu: Marseilles, Palais Longchamps, 1862-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl070b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl070b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>70 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, 1861-74</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl070c'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl070c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>70 (<span class='fss'>C</span>) Charles Rohault de Fleury and Henri Blondel: Paris, Place de l’Opéra, 1858-64</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl071'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_555'>555</span>
+<img src='images/pl071.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>71 J.-L.-C. Garnier: Paris, Opéra, foyer, 1861-74</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl072a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_556'>556</span>
+<img src='images/pl072a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>72 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) J.-A.-E. Vaudremer: Paris, Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge, 1864-70</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl072b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl072b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>72 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) J.-F. Duban: Paris, École des Beaux-Arts, 1860-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl073a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_557'>557</span>
+<img src='images/pl073a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>73 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Gottfried Semper and Karl von Hasenauer: Vienna, Burgtheater, 1874-88</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl073b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl073b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>73 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Theophil von Hansen: Vienna, Heinrichshof, 1861-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl074'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_558'>558</span>
+<img src='images/pl074.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>74 Vienna, Ringstrasse, begun 1858</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl075a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_559'>559</span>
+<img src='images/pl075a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>75 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) A.-F. Mortier: Paris, block of flats,<br />11 Rue de Milan, <i>c.</i> 1860</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl075b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl075b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>75 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Giuseppe Mengoni: Milan, Galleria Vittorio Emmanuele,<br />1865-77</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl076a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_560'>560</span>
+<img src='images/pl076a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>76 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Gaetano Koch: Rome, Esedra, 1885</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl076b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl076b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>76 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) J.-A.-F.-A. Pellechet: Barnard Castle, Co. Durham, Bowes Museum, 1869-75.<br /><i>Copyright Country Life</i></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl077a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_561'>561</span>
+<img src='images/pl077a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>77 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Friedrich Hitzig: Berlin, Exchange, 1859-63</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl077b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl077b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>77 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Julius Raschdorf: Cologne, Opera House, 1870-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl078a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_562'>562</span>
+<img src='images/pl078a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>78 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Cuthbert Brodrick: Leeds, Town Hall, 1855-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl078b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl078b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>78 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Sir Charles Barry: Halifax, Town Hall, 1860-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl079'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_563'>563</span>
+<img src='images/pl079.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>79 Cuthbert Brodrick: Scarborough, Grand Hotel, 1863-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl080a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_564'>564</span>
+<img src='images/pl080a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>80 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) John Giles: London, Langham Hotel, 1864-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl080b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl080b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>80 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) London, 1-5 Grosvenor Place, begun 1867</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl081'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_565'>565</span>
+<img src='images/pl081.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>81 Joseph Poelaert: Brussels, Palace of Justice, 1866-83</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl082a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_566'>566</span>
+<img src='images/pl082a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>82 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Thomas U. Walter: Washington, Capitol, Wings and Dome, 1851-65;<br />Central Block by William Thornton and others, 1792-1828</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl082b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl082b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>82 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Arthur B. Mullet; Arthur Gilman consultant: Washington,<br />State, War and Navy Department Building, 1871-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl083a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_567'>567</span>
+<img src='images/pl083a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>83 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sir M. D. Wyatt: London, Alford House, 1872</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl083b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl083b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>83 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Francis Fowke: London, Victoria and Albert Museum, Court, begun 1866</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl084'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_568'>568</span>
+<img src='images/pl084.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>84 Georg von Dollmann: Schloss Linderhof, near Oberammergau, 1870-86</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl085'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_569'>569</span>
+<img src='images/pl085.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>85 William Butterfield: London, All Saints’, Margaret Street, interior, 1849-59</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl086a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_570'>570</span>
+<img src='images/pl086a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>86 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) William Butterfield: London, All Saints’,<br />Margaret Street, Schools and Clergy House, 1849-59</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl086b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl086b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>86 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Deane &amp; Woodward: Oxford, University Museum,<br />1855-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl087'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_571'>571</span>
+<img src='images/pl087.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>87 William Butterfield: Baldersby St James, Yorkshire, St James’s, 1856</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl088'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_572'>572</span>
+<img src='images/pl088.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>88 William Burges: Hartford, Conn., project for Trinity College, 1873</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl089a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_573'>573</span>
+<img src='images/pl089a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>89 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Henry Clutton: Leamington, Warwickshire, St Peter’s, 1861-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl089b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl089b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>89 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) James Brooks: London, St Saviour’s, Hoxton, 1865-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl090'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_574'>574</span>
+<img src='images/pl090.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>90 Sir G. G. Scott: London, Albert Memorial, 1863-72</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl091a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_575'>575</span>
+<img src='images/pl091a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>91 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) J. P. Seddon: Aberystwyth, University College, begun 1864</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl091b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl091b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>91 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) H. H. Richardson: Medford, Mass., Grace Church, 1867-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl092a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_576'>576</span>
+<img src='images/pl092a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>92 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) E. W. Godwin: Congleton, Cheshire, Town Hall, 1864-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl092b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl092b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>92 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) G. F. Bodley: Pendlebury, Lancashire, St Augustine’s, 1870-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl093a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_577'>577</span>
+<img src='images/pl093a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>93 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) J. L. Pearson: London, St Augustine’s, Kilburn, 1870-80</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl093b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl093b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>93 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Edmund E. Scott: Brighton, St Bartholomew’s, completed 1875</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl094a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_578'>578</span>
+<img src='images/pl094a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>94 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) R. Norman Shaw: Bingley, Yorkshire, Holy Trinity, 1866-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl094b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl094b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>94 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) G. E. Street: London, St James the Less, Thorndike Street, 1858-61</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl095a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_579'>579</span>
+<img src='images/pl095a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>95 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Ware &amp; Van Brunt: Cambridge, Mass., Memorial Hall,<br />1870-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl095b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl095b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>95 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Furness: Philadelphia, Provident Life and Trust Company,<br />1879</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl096a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_580'>580</span>
+<img src='images/pl096a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>96 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Russell Sturgis: New Haven, Conn., Yale College, Farnam Hall, 1869-70</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl096b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl096b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>96 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Palau Güell, 1885-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl097a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_581'>581</span>
+<img src='images/pl097a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>97 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Fuller &amp; Jones: Ottawa, Canada, Parliament House, 1859-67</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl097b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl097b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>97 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) William Morris and Philip Webb: London, Victoria and Albert Museum,<br />Refreshment Room, 1867</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl098'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_582'>582</span>
+<img src='images/pl098.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>98 E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: St Denis, Seine, Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée, 1864-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl099a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_583'>583</span>
+<img src='images/pl099a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>99 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Heinrich von Ferstel: Vienna, Votivkirche,<br />1856-79</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl099b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl099b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>99 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Friedrich von Schmidt: Vienna, Fünfhaus Paris Church,<br />1868-75</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl100'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_584'>584</span>
+<img src='images/pl100.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>100 G. E. Street: Rome, St Paul’s American Church, 1873-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl101a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_585'>585</span>
+<img src='images/pl101a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>101 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) E.-E. Viollet-le-Duc: Paris,<br />block of flats, Rue de Douai, <i>c.</i> 1860</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl101b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl101b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>101 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) P. J. H. Cuijpers: Amsterdam,<br />Maria Magdalenakerk, 1887</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl101c'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl101c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>101 (<span class='fss'>C</span>) P. J. H. Cuijpers: Amsterdam, Rijksmuseum, 1877-85</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl102a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_586'>586</span>
+<img src='images/pl102a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>102 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Philip Webb: Smeaton Manor, Yorkshire, 1877-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl102b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl102b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>102 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) R. Norman Shaw: Withyham, Sussex, Glen Andred, 1866-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl103'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_587'>587</span>
+<img src='images/pl103.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>103 R. Norman Shaw: London, Old Swan House, 1876</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl104a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_588'>588</span>
+<img src='images/pl104a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>104 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) R. Norman Shaw: London, Albert Hall Mansions, 1879</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl104b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl104b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>104 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) George &amp; Peto: London, W. S. Gilbert house, 1882</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl105'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_589'>589</span>
+<img src='images/pl105.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>105 R. Norman Shaw: London, Fred White house, 1887</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl106a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_590'>590</span>
+<img src='images/pl106a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>106 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) R. Norman Shaw: London, Holy Trinity, Latimer Road, 1887-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl106b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl106b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>106 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) R. Norman Shaw: London, New Scotland Yard, 1887</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl107'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_591'>591</span>
+<img src='images/pl107.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>107 R. Norman Shaw: London, Piccadilly Hotel, 1905-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl108a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_592'>592</span>
+<img src='images/pl108a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>108 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) H. H. Richardson: Boston, Trinity Church, 1873-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl108b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl108b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>108 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) H. H. Richardson: Pittsburgh, Penna, Allegheny County Jail, 1884-8<br /></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl109a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_593'>593</span>
+<img src='images/pl109a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>109 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Charles B. Atwood: Chicago, World’s Fair, Fine Arts Building, 1892-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl109b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl109b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>109 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) McKim, Mead &amp; White: New York, Villard houses, 1883-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl110'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_594'>594</span>
+<img src='images/pl110.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>110 H. H. Richardson: Quincy, Mass., Crane Library, 1880-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl111'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_595'>595</span>
+<img src='images/pl111.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>111 McKim, Mead &amp; White: Boston, Public Library, 1888-92</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl112a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_596'>596</span>
+<img src='images/pl112a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>112 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) C. R. Cockerell: Liverpool, Bank Chambers, 1849</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl112b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl112b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>112 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Alexander Parris: Boston, North Market Street, designed 1823</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl113'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_597'>597</span>
+<img src='images/pl113.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>113 E. W. Godwin: Bristol, 104 Stokes Croft, <i>c.</i> 1862</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl114a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_598'>598</span>
+<img src='images/pl114a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>114 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Peter Ellis: Liverpool, Oriel Chambers, 1864-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl114b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl114b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>114 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Lockwood &amp; Mawson (?): Bradford,<br />Kassapian’s Warehouse, <i>c.</i> 1862</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl115a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_599'>599</span>
+<img src='images/pl115a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>115 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) George B. Post: New York, Western Union Building, 1873-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl115b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl115b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>115 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) D. H. Burnham &amp; Co.: Chicago, Reliance Building, 1894</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl116a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_600'>600</span>
+<img src='images/pl116a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>116 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) H. H. Richardson: Hartford, Conn., Brown-Thompson Department Store<br />(Cheney Block), 1875-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl116b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl116b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>116 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) H. H. Richardson: Chicago, Marshall Field Wholesale Store, 1885-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl117a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_601'>601</span>
+<img src='images/pl117a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>117 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Adler &amp; Sullivan: Chicago, Auditorium Building, 1887-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl117b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl117b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>117 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) William Le B. Jenney: Chicago, Sears, Roebuck &amp; Co. (Leiter) Building.<br />1889-90</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl118'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_602'>602</span>
+<img src='images/pl118.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>118 Adler &amp; Sullivan: St Louis, Wainwright Building, 1890-1</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl119'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_603'>603</span>
+<img src='images/pl119.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>119 Adler &amp; Sullivan: Buffalo, N.Y., Guaranty Building, 1894-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl120'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_604'>604</span>
+<img src='images/pl120.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>120 Holabird &amp; Roche; Louis H. Sullivan:<br />Chicago, 19 South Michigan Avenue; Gage Building, 1898-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl121'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_605'>605</span>
+<img src='images/pl121.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>121 Louis H. Sullivan: Chicago, Carson, Pirie &amp; Scott Department Store, 1899-1901, 1903-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl122a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_606'>606</span>
+<img src='images/pl122a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>122 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) J. B. Papworth: ‘Cottage Orné’, 1818</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl122b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl122b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>122 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) William Butterfield: Coalpitheath, Gloucestershire, St<br />Saviour’s Vicarage, 1844-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl123'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_607'>607</span>
+<img src='images/pl123.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>123 R. Norman Shaw: nr. Withyham, Sussex, Leyswood, 1868</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl124a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_608'>608</span>
+<img src='images/pl124a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>124 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Dudley Newton: Middletown, R.I., Sturtevant house, 1872</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl124b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl124b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>124 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) H. H. Richardson: Cambridge, Mass., Stoughton house, 1882-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl125a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_609'>609</span>
+<img src='images/pl125a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>125 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) McKim, Mead &amp; White: Elberon, N.J., H. Victor Newcomb house, 1880-1</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl125b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl125b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>125 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Bruce Price: Tuxedo Park, N.Y., Pierre Lorillard house, 1885-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl126'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_610'>610</span>
+<img src='images/pl126.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>126 McKim, Mead &amp; White: Newport, R.I., Isaac Bell, Jr, house, 1881-2]</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl127'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_611'>611</span>
+<img src='images/pl127.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>127 McKim, Mead &amp; White: Bristol, R.I., W. G. Low house, 1887</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl128a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_612'>612</span>
+<img src='images/pl128a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>128 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: River Forest, Ill., W. H. Winslow house, 1893</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl128b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl128b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>128 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: River Forest, Ill.,<br />River Forest Golf Club, 1898, 1901</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl129a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_613'>613</span>
+<img src='images/pl129a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>129 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) C. F. A. Voysey: Hog’s Back, Surrey, Julian Sturgis house, elevation, 1896</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl129b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl129b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>129 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) C. F. A. Voysey: Lake Windermere, Broadleys, 1898-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl130a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_614'>614</span>
+<img src='images/pl130a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>130 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Gustave Eiffel: Paris, Eiffel Tower, 1887-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl130b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl130b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>130 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, Tassel house, 1892-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl131a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_615'>615</span>
+<img src='images/pl131a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>131 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Baron Victor Horta: Brussels,<br />Solvay house, 1895-1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl131b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl131b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>131 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Baron Victor Horta: Brussels,<br />L’Innovation Department Store, 1901</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl132a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_616'>616</span>
+<img src='images/pl132a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>132 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) C. R. Mackintosh: Glasgow, School of Art, 1897-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl132b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl132b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>132 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Baron Victor Horta: Brussels, Maison du Peuple, interior, 1896-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl133'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_617'>617</span>
+<img src='images/pl133.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>133 Franz Jourdain: Paris, Samaritaine Department Store, 1905</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl134a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_618'>618</span>
+<img src='images/pl134a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>134 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Auguste Perret: Paris, block of flats, 119 Avenue Wagram, 1902</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl134b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl134b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>134 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) C. Harrison Townsend: London, Whitechapel Art Gallery, 1897-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl135a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_619'>619</span>
+<img src='images/pl135a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>135 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) C. R. Mackintosh: Glasgow, School of Art, 1907-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl135b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl135b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>135 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, ground storey, 1905-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl136'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_620'>620</span>
+<img src='images/pl136.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>136 Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Batlló, front, 1905-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl137a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_621'>621</span>
+<img src='images/pl137a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>137 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Antoni Gaudí: Barcelona, Casa Milá, 1905-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl137b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl137b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>137 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Hector Guimard: Paris, Gare du Métropolitain, Place Bastille, 1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl138a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_622'>622</span>
+<img src='images/pl138a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>138 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Otto Wagner: Vienna, Majolika Haus, <i>c.</i> 1898</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl138b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl138b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>138 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) H. P. Berlage: London, Holland House, 1914</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl139a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_623'>623</span>
+<img src='images/pl139a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>139 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Auguste Perret: Paris, Garage Ponthieu, 1905-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl139b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl139b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>139 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Auguste Perret: Paris, block of flats, 9 Place de la Porte de Passy, 1930-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl140a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_624'>624</span>
+<img src='images/pl140a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>140 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Auguste Perret: Le Havre, Place de l’Hôtel de Ville, 1948-54</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl140b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl140b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>140 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Auguste Perret: Paris, Ministry of Marine, 1929-30</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl141'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_625'>625</span>
+<img src='images/pl141.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>141 Auguste Perret: Le Raincy, S.-et-O., Notre-Dame, 1922-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl142a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_626'>626</span>
+<img src='images/pl142a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>142 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Kankakee, Ill., Warren Hickox house, 1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl142b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl142b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>142 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Highland Park, Ill., W. W. Willitts house, 1902</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl143a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_627'>627</span>
+<img src='images/pl143a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>143 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Delavan Lake, Wis., C. S. Ross house, 1902</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl143b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl143b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>143 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Oak Park, Ill., Unity Church, 1906</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl144'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_628'>628</span>
+<img src='images/pl144.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>144 Frank Lloyd Wright: Pasadena, Cal., Mrs G. M. Millard house, 1923</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl145a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_629'>629</span>
+<img src='images/pl145a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>145 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Falling Water, Pennsylvania, 1936-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl145b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl145b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>145 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Pleasantville, N.Y., Sol Friedman house, 1948-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl146a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_630'>630</span>
+<img src='images/pl146a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>146 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: Racine, Wis., S. C. Johnson and Sons Administration Building and Laboratory Tower, 1936-9 and 1946-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl146b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl146b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>145 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Bernard Maybeck: Berkeley, Cal., Christian Science Church, 1910</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div id='pl147a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_631'>631</span>
+<img src='images/pl147a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>147 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Greene &amp; Greene: Pasadena, Cal., D. B. Gamble house, 1908-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl147b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl147b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>147 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Irving Gill: Los Angeles, Walter Dodge house, 1915-16</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl148a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_632'>632</span>
+<img src='images/pl148a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>148 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Peter Behrens: Berlin, A.E.G. Small Motors Factory, 1910</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl148b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl148b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>148 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Peter Behrens: Hagen-Eppenhausen, Cuno and Schröder houses, 1909-10</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl149a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_633'>633</span>
+<img src='images/pl149a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>149 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Peter Behrens: Berlin, A.E.G. Turbine Factory, 1909</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl149b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl149b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>149 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Max Berg: Breslau, Jahrhunderthalle, 1910-12</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl150'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_634'>634</span>
+<img src='images/pl150.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>150 H. P. Berlage: Amsterdam, Diamond Workers’ Union Building, 1899-1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl151'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_635'>635</span>
+<img src='images/pl151.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>151 Adolf Loos: Vienna, Kärntner Bar, 1907</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl152'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_636'>636</span>
+<img src='images/pl152.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>152 Bonatz &amp; Scholer: Stuttgart, Railway Station, 1911-14, 1919-27</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl153a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_637'>637</span>
+<img src='images/pl153a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>153 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Fritz Höger: Hamburg, Chilehaus, 1923</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl153b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl153b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>153 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Erich Mendelsohn: Neubabelsberg, Einstein Tower, 1921</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl154a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_638'>638</span>
+<img src='images/pl154a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>154 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Josef Hoffmann: Brussels, Stoclet house, 1905-11</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl154b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl154b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>154 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Otto Wagner: Vienna, Postal Savings Bank, 1904-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl155a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_639'>639</span>
+<img src='images/pl155a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>155 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Adolf Loos: Vienna, Gustav Scheu house, 1912</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl155b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl155b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>155 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Adolf Loos: Vienna, Leopold Langer flat, 1901</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl156a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_640'>640</span>
+<img src='images/pl156a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>156 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Piet Kramer: Amsterdam, De Dageraad housing estate, 1918-23</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl156b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl156b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>156 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Michael de Klerk: Amsterdam, Eigen Haard housing estate, 1917</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl157a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_641'>641</span>
+<img src='images/pl157a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>157 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) W. M. Dudok: Hilversum, Dr Bavinck School, 1921</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl157b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl157b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>157 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Saarinen &amp; Saarinen: Minneapolis, Minn., Christ Lutheran Church, 1949-50</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl158a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_642'>642</span>
+<img src='images/pl158a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>158 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Walter Gropius with Adolf Meyer:<br />Project for Chicago Tribune Tower, 1922</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl158b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl158b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>158 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Walter Gropius and Adolf Meyer: Alfeld-an-der-Leine,<br />Fagus Factory, 1911-14]<br /></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl159'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_643'>643</span>
+<img src='images/pl159.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>159 Le Corbusier: Poissy, S.-et-O., Savoye house, 1929-30</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl160a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_644'>644</span>
+<img src='images/pl160a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>160 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Le Corbusier: Second project for Citrohan house, 1922</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl160b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl160b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>160 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Le Corbusier: Garches, S.-et-O., Les Terrasses, 1927</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl161a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_645'>645</span>
+<img src='images/pl161a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>161 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Walter Gropius: Dessau, Bauhaus, 1925-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl161b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl161b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>161 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Walter Gropius: Dessau, City Employment Office, 1927-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl162a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_646'>646</span>
+<img src='images/pl162a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>162 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Walter Gropius: Berlin, Siemensstadt housing estate, 1929-30</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl162b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl162b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>162 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Ludwig Mies van der Rohe:<br />Stuttgart, block of flats, Weissenhof, 1927</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl163a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_647'>647</span>
+<img src='images/pl163a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>163 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Brinkman &amp; van der Vlugt: Rotterdam, van Nelle Factory, 1927</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl163b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl163b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>163 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) J. J. P. Oud: Hook of Holland, housing estate, 1926-7</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl164a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_648'>648</span>
+<img src='images/pl164a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>164 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) J. J. P. Oud: Rotterdam, church, Kiefhoek housing estate, 1928-30</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl164b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl164b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>164 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Gerrit Rietveld: Utrecht, Schroeder house, 1925</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl165a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_649'>649</span>
+<img src='images/pl165a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>165 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Barcelona, German<br />Exhibition Pavilion, 1929</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl165b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl165b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>165 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Le Corbusier: Paris, Swiss Hostel, Cité Universitaire, 1931-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl166'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_650'>650</span>
+<img src='images/pl166.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>166 Le Corbusier: Marseilles, Unité d’Habitation, 1946-52</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl167'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_651'>651</span>
+<img src='images/pl167.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>167 Le Corbusier: Ronchamp, Hte-Saône, Notre-Dame-du-Haut, 1950-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl168a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_652'>652</span>
+<img src='images/pl168a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>168 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Le Corbusier: Éveux-sur-L’Arbresle, Dominican<br />Monastery of La Tourette, 1957-61</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl168b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl168b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>168 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Eero Saarinen: Warren, Mich., General Motors Technical Institute, 1951-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl169'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_653'>653</span>
+<img src='images/pl169.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>169 Howe &amp; Lescaze: Philadelphia, Philadelphia Savings Fund Society Building, 1932</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl170'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_654'>654</span>
+<img src='images/pl170.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>170 Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Chicago, Ill., blocks of flats, 845-60<br />Lake Shore Drive, 1949-51</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl171'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_655'>655</span>
+<img src='images/pl171.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>171 Lúcio Costa, Oscar Niemeyer, and others (Le Corbusier consultant): Rio de Janeiro,<br />Ministry of Education and Health, 1937-42</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl172a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_656'>656</span>
+<img src='images/pl172a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>172 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Giuseppe Terragni: Como, Casa del Fascio, 1932-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl172b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl172b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>172 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Tecton: London, Regent’s Park Zoo, Penguin Pool, 1933-5</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl173a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_657'>657</span>
+<img src='images/pl173a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>173 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Martin Nyrop: Copenhagen, Town Hall, 1892-1902</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl173b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl173b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>173 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Alvar Aalto: Säynatsälo, Municipal Buildings, <i>c.</i> 1951-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl174a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_658'>658</span>
+<img src='images/pl174a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>174 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Ragnar Östberg: Stockholm, Town Hall, 1909-23</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl174b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl174b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>174 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Ragnar Östberg: Stockholm, Town Hall, 1909-23</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl175a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_659'>659</span>
+<img src='images/pl175a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>175 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Sigfrid Ericsson: Göteborg, Masthugg Church, 1910-14</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl175b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl175b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>175 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) P. V. Jensen Klint: Copenhagen, Grundvig Church, 1913, 1921-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl176a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_660'>660</span>
+<img src='images/pl176a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>176 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) E. G. Asplund: Stockholm City Library, 1921-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl176b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl176b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>176 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Edward Thomsen and G. B. Hagen: Gentofte Komune, Øregaard School, 1923-4</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl177a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_661'>661</span>
+<img src='images/pl177a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>177 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Cram &amp; Ferguson: Princeton, N.J., Graduate College, completed 1913</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl177b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl177b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>177 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Reed &amp; Stem and Warren &amp; Wetmore: New York, Grand Central<br />Station, 1903-13</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl178'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_662'>662</span>
+<img src='images/pl178.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>178 Cass Gilbert: New York, Woolworth Building, 1913</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl179'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_663'>663</span>
+<img src='images/pl179.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>179 McKim, Mead &amp; White: New York, University Club, 1899-1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl180'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_664'>664</span>
+<img src='images/pl180.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>180 Henry Bacon: Washington, Lincoln Memorial, completed 1917</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl181'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_665'>665</span>
+<img src='images/pl181.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>181 Sir Edwin Lutyens: Delhi, Viceroy’s House, 1920-31. <i>Copyright Country Life</i></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl182a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_666'>666</span>
+<img src='images/pl182a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>182 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Alvar Aalto: Muuratsälo, architect’s own house, 1953</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl182b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl182b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>182 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Sir Edwin Lutyens: Sonning, Deanery Gardens, 1901.<br /><i>Copyright Country Life</i></span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl183a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_667'>667</span>
+<img src='images/pl183a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>183 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Victor Laloux: Paris, Gare d’Orsay, 1898-1900</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl183b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl183b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>183 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Eugenio Montuori and others: Rome, Termini Station, completed 1951</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl184'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_668'>668</span>
+<img src='images/pl184.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>184 Carlos Lazo and others: Mexico City, University City, begun <i>c.</i> 1950</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl185a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_669'>669</span>
+<img src='images/pl185a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>185 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Kay Fisker and Eske Kristensen: Copenhagen,<br />Kongegården Estate, 1955-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl185b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl185b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>185 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Eero Saarinen: New Haven, Conn., Ezra Stiles and<br />Samuel F.B. Morse Colleges, 1960-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl186a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_670'>670</span>
+<img src='images/pl186a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>186 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) James Cubitt &amp; Partners: Langleybury, Hertfordshire, school, 1955-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl186b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl186b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>186 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) London County Council Architect’s Office: London,<br />Loughborough Road Estate, 1954-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl187a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_671'>671</span>
+<img src='images/pl187a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>187 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Kenzo Tange: Totsuka, Country Club, <i>c.</i> 1960</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl187b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl187b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>187 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Kunio Maekawa: Tokyo, Metropolitan Festival Hall, 1961</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl188a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_672'>672</span>
+<img src='images/pl188a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>188 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: New York, Guggenheim Museum, (1943-6), 1956-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl188b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl188b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>188 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Frank Lloyd Wright: New York, Guggenheim Museum, (1943-6), 1956-9</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl189'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_673'>673</span>
+<img src='images/pl189.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>189 Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill (Gordon Bunshaft): New York, Lever House, 1950-2</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl190a'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_674'>674</span>
+<img src='images/pl190a.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>190 (<span class='fss'>A</span>) Philip C. Johnson: New Canaan, Conn., Boissonas house, 1955-6</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl190b'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl190b.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>190 (<span class='fss'>B</span>) Eero Saarinen: Chantilly, Va., Dulles International Airport, 1960-3</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl190c'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<img src='images/pl190c.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>190 (<span class='fss'>C</span>) Oscar Niemeyer: Pampulha, São Francisco, 1943</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl191'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_675'>675</span>
+<img src='images/pl191.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>191 Hentrich &amp; Petschnigg: Düsseldorf, Thyssen Haus, 1958-60</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div id='pl192'  class='figcenter id003'>
+<span class='pageno' id='Page_676'>676</span>
+<img src='images/pl192.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' />
+<div class='ic003'>
+<p><span class='c003'>192 Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Philip Johnson: New York, Seagram Building, 1956-8</span></p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<div class='chapter'>
+  <span class='pageno' id='Page_677'>677</span>
+  <h2 class='c013'>INDEX</h2>
+</div>
+<p class='c020'>Numbers in <i>italics</i> refer to plates. References to the Notes are
+given only where they indicate matters of special interest or
+importance: such references are given to the page on which the note
+occurs, followed by the number of the chapter to which it belongs, and
+the number of the note. Thus 455(13)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a> indicates the note is on
+page <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>, it is referenced from chapter <a href='#ch13'>13</a>, and is note <a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a>
+within the body of this book.</p>
+<p class='c010'>The system followed in towns and cities is to print the name of the
+building first, followed where applicable by the name of the street in
+which it is located and by the district or suburb. Thus the White
+House, Tite Street, Chelsea, will be found in the main London entry
+under White House, and Saint-Jean-Baptiste, Neuilly, in the main Paris
+entry under Saint-Jean-Baptiste; each, however, is cross-referenced in
+the main index, as Chelsea, <i>see</i> London (<a href='#LondonWhite'>White House</a>).
+More remote suburbs generally have separate
+entries. Country houses are entered under their own names rather than
+under nearby towns and villages.</p>
+
+<ul class='index'>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='c002'>A</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aalto, Alvar, <a href='#Page_380'>380</a>-<a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; <i><a href='#pl173a'>173</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl182a'>182</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aarhus, City Library, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marselisberg Slot, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theatre, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;</li>
+      <li>University, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>-<a href='#Page_415'>415</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Abadie, Paul, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Abbey, Edwin A., <a href='#Page_230'>230</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Abbotsford (Roxburgsh.), <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aberystwyth (Cardigansh.), University College, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>; <i><a href='#pl091a'>91</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Åbom, J. F., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Abraham, H. R., <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>-<a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Abramowitz, Max, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <i>see also</i> <a href='#harrisonabramowitz'>Harrison &amp; Abramowitz</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Academy Architecture</i>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Acapulco, airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adam, Robert, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adams, A. J., <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adams, Maurice B., <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adcote (Salop), <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adelaide, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adelpodinger, Joseph, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Adler, Dankmar, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>; <i><a href='#pl117a'>117</a>-<a href='#pl119'>119</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ahlert, F. A., <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ahmedabad, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Airports, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aitchison, George, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aix, Palais de Justice, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alavoine, J.-A., <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Albany (N.Y.), New York State Capitol, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Albert, Prince, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Albini, Franco, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alcobaça, monastery, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_678'>678</span>Aldrich, Chester H., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f515' class='c025'><sup>[515]</sup></a>, <i>see also</i> <a href='#DelanoAldrich'>Delano &amp; Aldrich</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alessandria, Prison, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alexander I, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alexander, D. A., <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alexander, George, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alexandria, St Mark’s, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f220' class='c025'><sup>[220]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alfeld, Fagus Factory, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>; <i><a href='#pl158a'>158</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Algarotti, Francesco, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Allom, Thomas, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alnwick Castle (Northumberland), <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Alton Castle (Staffs.), <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aluminium, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Amati, Carlo, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ambler, Thomas, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Amherst (Mass.), Amherst College, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>; <i><a href='#pl045'>45</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Amiens, skyscraper, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Amsterdam, Amstel Hotel, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Amstellaan housing estate, <a href='#Page_358'>358</a>;</li>
+      <li>Amsterdam West housing estate, <a href='#Page_358'>358</a>;</li>
+      <li>Central Station, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>;</li>
+      <li>De Dageraad housing estate, <a href='#Page_358'>358</a>; <i><a href='#pl156a'>156</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Diamond Workers’ Trade Union Building, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>; <i><a href='#pl150'>150</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Eigen Haard housing estate, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a>-<a href='#Page_358'>358</a>; <i><a href='#pl156a'>156</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>;</li>
+      <li>Galerij, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>;</li>
+      <li>Haarlemer Poort, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hotel American, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>;</li>
+      <li>jewellery shop by Rietveld, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>;</li>
+      <li>Linnaeusstraat, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>;</li>
+      <li>Maria Magdalenakerk, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>; <i><a href='#pl101a'>101</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Nederlandsche Handel Maatschappij, <a href='#Page_464'>464</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f224' class='c025'><sup>[224]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Paleis voor Volksvlijt, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
+      <li>Resistance Monument, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f509' class='c025'><sup>[509]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Rijksmuseum, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>; <i><a href='#pl101a'>101</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_679'>679</span>Round Church, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Scheepvaarthuis, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vondelkerk, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Andalusia (Philadelphia), <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>André, L.-J., <a href='#Page_221'>221</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ango, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ankara, housing, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>opera-house, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Annandale (N.Y.), Blythewood, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Antichità romane</i> (Piranesi), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Antiquities of Athens</i> (Stuart and Revett), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Antiquities of India</i> (Daniell), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Antiquities of Magna Graecia</i> (Wilkins), <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Antolini, Giannantonio, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Antonelli, Alessandro, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f200' class='c025'><sup>[200]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Après le cubisme</i> (Le Corbusier), <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arc-et-Senans (Doubs), <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Archer, John Lee, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Archer &amp; Green, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Architectural Sketches from the Continent</i> (Shaw), <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Architecture considérée sous le rapport de l’art</i> (Ledoux), <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Architecture moderne en Angleterre</i> (Sédille), <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Architecture romane du midi de la France</i> (Révoil), <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Architecture toscane</i> (Grandjean), <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arisaig (Inverness-shire), <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, fig. <a href='#i260'>23</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aristotle, <a href='#Page_xxvii'>xxvii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arizona State Capitol, project, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_680'>680</span>Arkona, lighthouse, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arlington (N.Y.), Vassar College, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arlington House (Va.), <a href='#Page_81'>81</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Armand, Alfred, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arnold, C. F., <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arrochar (N.Y.), Richardson’s own house, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Artigas, Francisco, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Art Nouveau, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arts and Crafts Exhibition Society, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Arup, Ove, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ashbee, C. R., <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ashmont, <i>see</i> <a href='#BostonAllSaints'>Boston (All Saints’)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ashridge (Herts.), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Aslin, C. H., <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Asplund, E. G., <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>-<a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>; <i><a href='#pl176a'>176</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Astorga, Bishop’s Palace, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Athens, Academy, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Aghios Dionysios, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>Byzantine Museum, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>English Church, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Library, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>Old Palace, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>; <i><a href='#pl017a'>17</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Palais Dimitriou, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>Polytechneion, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>University, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>University Street, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Atkinson, Fello, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f542' class='c025'><sup>[542]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Atkinson, William, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Attleborough (Mass.), school, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Atwood, Charles B., <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_231'>231</a>-<a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>; <i><a href='#pl109a'>109</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Auburndale (Mass.), railway station, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Auteuil, <i>see</i> <a href='#Jeanneret'>Paris (Jeanneret, La Roche houses)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Avon Tyrrell (Hants.), <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Azulejos</i>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>B</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Babb, Cook &amp; Willard, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Babbacombe (Devon), All Saints’, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Babelsberg, Schloss, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>(steam-engine house), <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bacon, Henry, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl180'>180</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baden-Baden, Kurhaus, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Trinkhalle, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Badger, Daniel D., <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f172' class='c025'><sup>[172]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bage, Charles, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baghdad, opera-house project, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bagot, W. H., <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Baillie'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baillie Scott, M. H., <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, fig. <a href='#i278'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bailly, A.-N., <a href='#Page_140'>140</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_681'>681</span>Baker, Sir Herbert, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a>-<a href='#Page_408'>408</a>, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f531' class='c025'><sup>[531]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Balat, Alphonse, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baldersby St James (Yorks.), St James’s, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>; <i><a href='#pl087'>87</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Balloon-frame’ construction, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ballu, Théodore, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>; <i><a href='#pl055a'>55</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Balmoral Castle (Aberdeensh.), <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baltard, L.-P., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baltard, Victor, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f63' class='c025'><sup>[63]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baltimore, Battle Monument, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Catholic Cathedral, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>; <i><a href='#pl005'>5</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Mary’s Seminary chapel, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sun Building, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>;</li>
+      <li>Unitarian Church, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>-<a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>Washington Monument, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Balzaretti, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bangor (Maine), Farrer house, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barabino, C. F., <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barcelona, Batlló, Casa, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a>; <i><a href='#pl136'>136</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Calvet, Casa, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>; <a href='#Page_335'>335</a></li>
+      <li>Diagonal, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition (1929), Mies’s pavilion, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>; <i><a href='#pl165a'>165</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='GuellFinca'></a></li>
+      <li>Güell, Finca, Pedralbes, <a href='#Page_203'>203</a>;</li>
+      <li>Güell, Palau, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>-<a href='#Page_204'>204</a>; <i><a href='#pl096a'>96</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Milá, Casa, <a href='#Page_304'>304</a>-<a href='#Page_305'>305</a>, fig. <a href='#i304'>35</a>; <i><a href='#pl135a'>135</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl137a'>137</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Miralles estate, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>-<a href='#Page_303'>303</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palau de la Musica Catalana, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parc de la Ciutadella, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parc Güell, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>-<a href='#Page_303'>303</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sagrada Familia, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>-<a href='#Page_302'>302</a>;</li>
+      <li>Teresian College, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a>, <a href='#Page_204'>204</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vicens, Casa, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barlow, W. H., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>, <a href='#Page_445'>445</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f115' class='c025'><sup>[115]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barnard Castle (Co. Durham) Bowes Museum, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>; <i><a href='#pl076a'>76</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barnet (Herts.), Trevor Hall, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, fig. <a href='#i262'>24</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barnett, George I., <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barnett, Dame Henrietta, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barnum, P. T., <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baron, C.-J., <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barr, John, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barral, Vincent, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barry, Sir Charles, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>ff., <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>; <i><a href='#pl035a'>35</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl037a'>37</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl054'>54</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl078a'>78</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barry, E. M., <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barthélémy, Eugène, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barthélémy, J.-E., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Barthelmé, Donald, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bartholdi, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bartlesville (Okla.), Price Tower, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a>-<a href='#Page_331'>331</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bartning, Otto, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch20'>20</a>)<a href='#f427' class='c025'><sup>[427]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Basel, Sankt Antonius, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Basevi, George, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_682'>682</span>Bassett-Lowke, S. J., <a href='#Page_346'>346</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bath (Som.), Royal Crescent, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Mary’s Bathwick, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
+      <li>Savings Bank, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Battersea, <i>see</i> <a href='#BatterseeAscension'>London (Ascension, church of the)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baudot, J.-E.-A. de, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>-<a href='#Page_310'>310</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Baumann, Povl, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bay Region School, <a href='#Page_412'>412</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bazel, K. P. C. de, <a href='#Page_464'>464</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f438' class='c025'><sup>[438]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beardsley, Aubrey, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beaumont, C.-E. de, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Becherer, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beckford, William, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bedford, Francis, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bedford Park, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Behrens, Peter, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>ff; <i><a href='#pl148a'>148</a>-<a href='#pl149a'>149</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belanger, F.-J., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bell, Anning, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bell, William E., <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belle Grove (Louisiana), <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bellhouse, E. T., <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belli, Pasquale, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belluschi, Pietro, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belmead (Va.), <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Belper (Derbysh.), West Mill, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beltrami, Luca, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beman, Solon S., <a href='#Page_248'>248</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Benda, Julius, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>, <i>see also</i> <a href='#EbeBenda'>Ebe &amp; Benda</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Benjamin, Asher, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Benicia (Cal.), California State Capitol (old), <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Benouville, Château de (Calvados), <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Benson, Sir John, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bentley, J. F., <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berenguer, Francisc, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berg, Max, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>-<a href='#Page_343'>343</a>; <i><a href='#pl149a'>149</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berg, Schloss, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berg-en-Dal, Hotel, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bergamo, <i>città bassa</i>, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berkeley (Cal.), California University School of Architecture, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Christian Science Church, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>; <i><a href='#pl146a'>146</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Gregory house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;</li>
+      <li>Howard house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;</li>
+      <li>Thorsen house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berlage, H. P., <a href='#Page_355'>355</a>-<a href='#Page_357'>357</a>, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>; <i><a href='#pl138a'>138</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl150'>150</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Berlin'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berlin, A.E.G. factories:
+    <ul>
+      <li>high tension, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a>;</li>
+      <li>large machine assembly hall, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>;</li>
+      <li>small motors, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a>; <i><a href='#pl148a'>148</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>turbine, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>-<a href='#Page_340'>340</a>; <i><a href='#pl149a'>149</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Afrikanische Strasse housing estate, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;</li>
+      <li>Altes Museum, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>-<a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, fig. <a href='#i031'>6</a>; <i><a href='#pl013'>13</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Anhalter Bahnhof, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_683'>683</span>Bartholomäuskirche, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>;</li>
+      <li>Brandenburg Gate, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>;</li>
+      <li>Building Exhibition (1931), <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cathedral (old), <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cathedral (new), <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Columbus Haus, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>; <i><a href='#pl077a'>77</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Feilner house, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>, fig. <a href='#i034'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hohenzollern Kunstgewerbehaus  <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>;</li>
+      <li>Interbau Exhibition (1957), <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jacobikirche, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>;</li>
+      <li>Komödie Theatre, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kreuzberg War Memorial, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kroll Oper, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>;</li>
+      <li>Liebknecht-Luxemburg Monument, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lustgarten, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Markuskirche, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mint, old, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>;</li>
+      <li>Moller house, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mosse, Palais, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>;</li>
+      <li>Museum of Decorative Art, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nationalgalerie, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>;</li>
+      <li>Neues Museum, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>;</li>
+      <li>Neue Tor, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Neue Wache, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>-<a href='#Page_30'>30</a>, fig. <a href='#i029'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li>Packhofgebäude, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pariser Platz, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Petrikirche, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>;</li>
+      <li>Prison, Military, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rathaus, old, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>;</li>
+      <li>Redern, Palais, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Reichsbank, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Reichstag, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>;</li>
+      <li>Russian Embassy, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>;</li>
+      <li>Schauspielhaus, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>; <i><a href='#pl012'>12</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Grosses), <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Schlossbrücke, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>;</li>
+      <li>Siemensstadt housing estate, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>; <i><a href='#pl162a'>162</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Singakademie, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a>;</li>
+      <li>skyscraper projects (Mies), <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>;</li>
+      <li>Viktoria Strasse, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>;</li>
+      <li>Von Tiele house, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>;</li>
+      <li>Werder Church, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wertheim store, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>;</li>
+      <li>Zellengefängnis, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Hennigsdorf'>Hennigsdorf</a>, <a href='#Neubabelsberg'>Neubabelsberg</a>, <a href='#Zehlendorf'>Zehlendorf</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bernasconi, G. A., <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berne, Federal Palace, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berneval, house by Perret, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berry Hill (Va.), <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Berthault, L.-M., <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bertoia, Harry, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Besançon (Doubs), theatre, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bessemer, Sir Henry, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bestelmeyer, German, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Béthencourt, General, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bethnal Green, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonJude'>London (St Jude’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Betteshanger (Kent), house by Devey, <a href='#Page_454'>454</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f266' class='c025'><sup>[266]</sup></a>-<a href='#f267' class='c025'><sup>[267]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bettws-y-Coed (Carnarvonsh.), Waterloo Bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Beverly (Mass.), United Shoe Machinery Plant, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_684'>684</span>Bexhill (Sussex), De La Warr Pavilion, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bexley Heath (Kent), The Red House, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bianchi, Pietro, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Biddle, Nicholas, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Biet, L.-M.-D., <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bijvoet &amp; Duiker, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bindesbøll, M. G. B., <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>; <i><a href='#pl016a'>16</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Binet, René, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bing, Siegfried, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bingley (Yorks.), Holy Trinity, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>; <i><a href='#pl094a'>94</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Birmingham, Bishop Ryder’s church, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Curzon Street Station, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li>King Edward’s Grammar School, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>;</li>
+      <li>St George’s, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Peter’s, Dale End, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bischofsheim, church, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bishop’s Itchington (War.), The Cottage, <a href='#Page_275'>275</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bjerke, Arvid, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blackburn, James, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blackwell’s Island, <i>see</i> <a href='#NYCharity'>New York (Charity Hospital)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blaise Hamlet (Glos.), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>; <i><a href='#pl050a'>50</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blake, William, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blom, Fredrik, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blomfield, Sir Reginald, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blondel, François, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blondel, J.-B., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blondel, J.-F., <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f2' class='c025'><sup>[2]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blondel, Henri, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bloomfield (Conn.), Connecticut General Insurance Co., <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bloomfield Hills (Mich.), Cranbrook School, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Kingswood School, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blore, Edward, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>-<a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Blouet, G.-A., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Board-and-batten, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boari, Adamo, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boberg, Ferdinand, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bodley, G. F., <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>; <i><a href='#pl092a'>92</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bogardus, James, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f364' class='c025'><sup>[364]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl067a'>67</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bogotá, churches, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Ginnásio Moderno, chapel, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nuestra Señora de Fatimá, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>;</li>
+      <li>Suramericana de Seguros, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Böhm, Dominikus, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boileau, L.-A., <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boileau, L. C., <a href='#Page_251'>251</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boldre Grange (Hants.), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bollati, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boltenstern, Erich, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_685'>685</span>Boltz, L.-M., <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonaparte, Jerome, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonaparte, Joseph, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonatz, Paul, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonatz &amp; Scholer, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>; <i><a href='#pl152'>152</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonnard, J.-C., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonneau, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonnevie, E.-J., <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonnier, L.-B., <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bonsignore, Ferdinando, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boscombe (Hants.), Convent of the Sisters of Bethany, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bosio, F. J., <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='BostonAllSaints'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boston, All Saints’, Ashmont, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Ames Building (Harrison Avenue), <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>;</li>
+      <li>Arlington Street Church, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>;</li>
+      <li>Back Bay district, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>;</li>
+      <li>Beacon Street, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>; <i><a href='#pl043a'>43</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Bowdoin Street Church, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>;</li>
+      <li>Brattle Square (First Baptist) Church, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>-<a href='#Page_222'>222</a>;</li>
+      <li>Brazier’s Buildings, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>;</li>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>;</li>
+      <li>Court House, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>-<a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crowninshield house, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>;</li>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;</li>
+      <li>Federal Street Church, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fenway Bridge, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li>
+      <li>First (Unitarian) Church, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>;</li>
+      <li>Market Street, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>; <i><a href='#pl112a'>112</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Massachusetts General Hospital, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>-<a href='#Page_85'>85</a>;</li>
+      <li>Merchants’ Exchange, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Museum of Fine Arts, old, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>;</li>
+      <li>New Old South Church, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pierce store, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>;</li>
+      <li>Public Library, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>-<a href='#Page_230'>230</a>; <i><a href='#pl111'>111</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Quincy Market, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>-<a href='#Page_86'>86</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>;</li>
+      <li>State House, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tremont House, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a>, fig. <a href='#i087'>13</a>; <i><a href='#pl041'>41</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Trinity Church, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>-<a href='#Page_223'>223</a>; <i><a href='#pl108a'>108a</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bosworth, Welles, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boullée, L.-E., <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>-<a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>; <i><a href='#pl002a'>2</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boulogne, Colonne de la Grande Armée, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boulogne-Billancourt (Seine), Hôtel de Ville, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boulton &amp; Watt, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bourdelle, Antoine, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bournemouth (Hants.), St Michael and All Angels, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Swithin’s, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Boyden, Elbridge, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bracketted mode, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_258'>258</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bradford (Yorks.), Kassapian’s Warehouse, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <i><a href='#pl114a'>114</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brandon, David, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brasilia, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bratke, Osvaldo Arthur, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a>, fig. <a href='#i425'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_686'>686</span>Bravo Jiménez, Jorge, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brébion, Maximilien, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Breslau, Jahrhunderthalle, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>-<a href='#Page_343'>343</a>; <i><a href='#pl149a'>149</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Petersdorf store, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a>;</li>
+      <li>theatre, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Breuer, Marcel, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Brick and Marble Architecture of the Middle Ages in Italy</i> (Street), <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Brickbuilder</i>, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bridant, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bridgeport (Conn.), Iranistan, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Walnut Wood, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bridges, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>-<a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brigham, Charles, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brighton (Sussex), Anthaeum, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Kemp Town, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pavilion, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>-<a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>; <i><a href='#pl048'>48</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl058a'>58</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Bartholomew’s, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>; <i><a href='#pl093a'>93</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Michael’s, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Peter’s, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
+      <li>Xavierian College, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Hove'>Hove</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brinkman, J. A., <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>; <i><a href='#pl016a'>16</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brisbane Cathedral, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>-<a href='#Page_190'>190</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bristol (Som.), General Hospital, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Great Western Hotel, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a>;</li>
+      <li>Merchant Street warehouse, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+      <li>Stokes Croft, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <i><a href='#pl113'>113</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Strait Street warehouse, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>;</li>
+      <li>Temple Meads Railway Station, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;</li>
+      <li>12 Temple Street, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>West of England Bank, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bristol (R.I.), Low house, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>; <i><a href='#pl127'>127</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Britton, John, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brno, Tugendhathouse, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>, fig. <a href='#i376'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brockhampton-by-Ross (Herefs.), church, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f354' class='c025'><sup>[354]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brodrick, Cuthbert, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>; <i><a href='#pl037a'>37</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl078a'>78</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl079'>79</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Broek, van den, &amp; Bakema, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brongniart, A.-T., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>; <i><a href='#pl008a'>8</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brookline (Mass.), Harvard Church, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brooklyn (N.Y.), Brooklyn Bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Congregational Church of the Pilgrims, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>;</li>
+      <li>Litchfield house, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mercantile Library, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pierrepont house, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brooks, James, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>-<a href='#Page_185'>185</a>; <i><a href='#pl089a'>89</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brown, Lancelot (‘Capability’), <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brown, Ford Madox, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bruce, James Coles, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brunel, I. K., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>; <i><a href='#pl065'>65</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_687'>687</span>Brunet-Debaines, C.-F., <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brunet-Debaines, C.-L.-F., <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brunswick, Viewegsches Haus, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Villa Holland, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brunswick (Maine), Bowdoin College Chapel, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Brussels, Aubecq house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>, fig. <a href='#i290'>34</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Boulevard Anspach, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
+      <li>Central Station, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
+      <li>Frison house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li>
+      <li>Galerie Saint-Hubert, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gros Waucquez building, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hallet house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li>
+      <li>Innovation store, <a href='#Page_290'>290</a>-<a href='#Page_291'>291</a>; <i><a href='#pl131a'>131</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Maison du Peuple, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>-<a href='#Page_290'>290</a>; <i><a href='#pl132a'>132</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Musée Royale des Beaux Arts, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>;</li>
+      <li>Old England store, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais des Beaux Arts, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais de Justice, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>; <i><a href='#pl081'>81</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Prison, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>;</li>
+      <li>23-25 Rue Américaine, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rue de Schaerbeek, school, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>;</li>
+      <li>Solvay house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>; <i><a href='#pl131a'>131</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Stoclet house, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>-<a href='#Page_351'>351</a>; <i><a href='#pl154a'>154</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Tassel house, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a>-<a href='#Page_289'>289</a>; <i><a href='#pl130a'>130</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Temple des Passions Humaines, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a>;</li>
+      <li>Théâtre de la Monnaie, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>;</li>
+      <li>Van Eetvelde house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wiener house, <a href='#Page_289'>289</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wolfers building, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Brutalismo</i>, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bryanston (Dorset), <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bryant, G. J. F., <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bryant &amp; Gilman, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bryce, David, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bryn Mawr, rubber factory, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buckler, John, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bucklin, James C., <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>; <i><a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Budapest, Academy of Sciences, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ferenczváros parish church, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kommitat building, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Museum, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>;</li>
+      <li>Opera House, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parliament House, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>Szent Lukásh Hotel, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vigado Concert Hall, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buenos Aires, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buffalo (N.Y.), Dorsheimer house, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Ellicott Square Building, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li>
+      <li>Guaranty Building, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>; <i><a href='#pl119'>119</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Kleinhans Music Hall, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>;</li>
+      <li>Larkin Administration Building, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>;</li>
+      <li>State Hospital, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buffington, L. S., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Builder</i>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Builders’ Guides, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Building News</i>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buildwas (Salop), bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bulach, church, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_688'>688</span>Bulfinch, Charles, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>-<a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bunning, J. B., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl063'>63</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bunshaft, Gordon, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>; <i><a href='#pl189'>189</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burdon, Rowland, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burges, William, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>-<a href='#Page_188'>188</a>, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f234' class='c025'><sup>[234]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_453'>453</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f256' class='c025'><sup>[256]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl088'>88</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burke, Edmund, <a href='#Page_xxvii'>xxvii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Bürklein, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burlington (N.J.), Doane house, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Mary’s, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burn, William, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>, <a href='#Page_453'>453</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f261' class='c025'><sup>[261]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burne-Jones, Sir Edward, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burnet, Sir John J., <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f526' class='c025'><sup>[526]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burnet &amp; Tait, Sir John, <a href='#Page_404'>404</a>, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burnham, D. H., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>-<a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, fig. <a href='#i231'>20</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Burnam1'>Burnham &amp; Root</a>, <a href='#Burnam2'>D. H. Burnham &amp; Co.</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Burnam2'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burnham &amp; Co., D. H., <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>, <a href='#Page_456'>456</a>(<a href='#ch14'>14</a>)<a href='#f318' class='c025'><sup>[318]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl115a'>115</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Burnam1'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burnham &amp; Root, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>-<a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>-<a href='#Page_242'>242</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>-<a href='#Page_246'>246</a>; <i><a href='#pl115a'>115</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buron, J.-B., <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burton, Decimus, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>-<a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl067a'>67</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Burton, James, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Busby, C. A., <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>; <i><a href='#pl049'>49</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Busse, August, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Butterfield William, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>-<a href='#Page_187'>187</a>, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>; <i><a href='#pl085'>85</a>-<a href='#pl087'>87</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl122a'>122</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Button, S. D., <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Buzas, Stephan, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f542' class='c025'><sup>[542]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>C</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Caccault brothers, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cagnola, Luigi, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Calder, Sandy, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Calderini, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Callet, F.-E., <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Calliat, P.-V., <a href='#Page_140'>140</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Camberwell, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonGiles'>London (St Giles’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cambridge (Cambs.), All Saints’, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Downing College, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fitzwilliam Museum, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>;</li>
+      <li>King’s College screen, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
+      <li>St John’s College, chapel, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+      <li>New Court, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>; <i><a href='#pl050a'>50</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cambridge (Mass.), Harvard University, Appleton Chapel, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>(Austin Hall), <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li>
+      <li>(Graduate Centre), <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>;</li>
+      <li>(Law School), <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li>
+      <li>(Memorial Hall), <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>; <i><a href='#pl095a'>95</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Sever Hall, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>;</li>
+      <li>(University Hall), <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_689'>689</span>Massachusetts Institute of Technology, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>-<a href='#Page_423'>423</a>;</li>
+      <li>Stoughton house, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>; <i><a href='#pl124a'>124</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Unitarian Church, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Camden Society, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cameron, Charles, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Campanini, Alfredo, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Camporesi, Pietro, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Candela, Felix, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f400' class='c025'><sup>[400]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Canevari, Raffaele, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Canissié, J.-B.-P., <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Canova, Antonio, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Canterbury (Kent), St Augustine’s College, <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f219' class='c025'><sup>[219]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cantoni, Simone, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Caracas, <a href='#Page_413'>413</a>-<a href='#Page_414'>414</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Cerro Piloto, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>;</li>
+      <li>Edificio Polar, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>;</li>
+      <li>University City, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carcassonne (Aude), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Carceri</i> (Piranesi), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cardiff (Glam.), Castle, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>McConochie house, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carmel (Cal.), Walker house, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carpeaux, J.-B., <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carpenter, R. C., <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Carpenter’s Grecian’, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Carpentry Made Easy</i> (Bell), <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carrère, John M., <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#CarrereHastings'>Carrère &amp; Hastings</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='CarrereHastings'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carrère &amp; Hastings, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carstensen, G. B., <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Carter, Elias, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Casablanca, warehouses by Perret, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Caserta, Palace, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl025'>25</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Casey, T. L., <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f433' class='c025'><sup>[433]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Castell Coch (Glam.), <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cast iron, <a href='#Page_xxix'>xxix</a>, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cataño (Porto Rico), Beato Martín Porres, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Catelin, Prosper, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Caterham (Surrey), Upwood Gorse, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Catherine the Great, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cattaneo, A., <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cavel, J.-B.-F., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Célérier, Jacques, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cendrier, F. A., <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Century Guild, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ceppi, Carlo, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cessart, L.-A., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cézanne, Paul, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chalgrin, J.-F.-T., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>; <i><a href='#pl007'>7</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chambers, Sir William, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Champeaux (S.-et.-M.), house by Boltz, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chandigarh, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a>, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_690'>690</span>Chandler (Ariz.), <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chantilly (Va.), Airport, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>; <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chantrell, R. D., <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Charenton (Seine), asylum, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>parish church, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Charlestown (Mass.), Bunker Hill Monument, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Charlottenburg, Behrendhouse, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Charlottesville (Va.), University of Virginia, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, fig. <a href='#i083'>12</a>; <i><a href='#pl038a'>38</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Charton, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chartres, Cathedral, roof, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chateauneuf, Alexis de, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chatsworth (Derbyshire), <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cheadle (Cheshire), St Giles’s, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>; <i><a href='#pl052a'>52</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chelsea, <i>see</i> London  (<a href='#LondonBoyce'>Boyce house</a>,  <a href='#LondonBoyce'>Glebe Place, Chelsea</a>,  <a href='#LondonCheyne1'>Cheyne House</a>,  <a href='#LondonCheyne2'>Cheyne Walk</a>,  <a href='#LondonLukes'>St Luke’s</a>,  <a href='#LondonSwan'>Old Swan House</a>,  <a href='#LondonTite'>Tite Street</a>,  <a href='#LondonWhite'>White House</a>)</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cheltenham (Glos.), Queen’s Hotel, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chemnitz, Esche house, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chermayeff, Serge, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chester (Cheshire), Castle, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chesters (Northumberland), <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chicago, All Souls’ Unitarian Church, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>American Express Building, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>;</li>
+      <li>Art Institute, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>;</li>
+      <li>Auditorium Building, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>; <i><a href='#pl117a'>117</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Blossom house, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cable Building, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>;</li>
+      <li>Carson, Pirie &amp; Scott store, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>-<a href='#Page_249'>249</a>; <i><a href='#pl121'>121</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Charnley house, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cook County Buildings, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>;</li>
+      <li>Esplanade Apartments, <a href='#Page_390'>390</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition (1893), <i>see</i> <a href='#WorldFair'>World’s Fair</a>;</li>
+      <li>E.-Z. Polish factory, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>;</li>
+      <li>Field store, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>-<a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>; <i><a href='#pl116a'>116</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Fisher Building, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gage Building, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>; <i><a href='#pl120'>120</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Glessner house, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li>
+      <li>Harlan house, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>;</li>
+      <li>Heller house, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>, fig. <a href='#i272'>29</a>;</li>
+      <li>Home Insurance building, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>;</li>
+      <li>Husser house, <a href='#Page_272'>272</a>-<a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, fig. <a href='#i273'>30</a>;</li>
+      <li>Illinois Institute of Technology, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>-<a href='#Page_389'>389</a>, fig. <a href='#i389'>52</a>; 845-860 Lake Shore Drive, <a href='#Page_389'>389</a>-<a href='#Page_390'>390</a>; <i><a href='#pl170'>170</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>McClurg Building, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li>
+      <li>MacVeagh house, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li>
+      <li>Masonic Building, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>;</li>
+      <li>Michigan Avenue, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>; <i><a href='#pl120'>120</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Midway Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>;</li>
+      <li>Midway Gardens, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a>-<a href='#Page_326'>326</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_691'>691</span>Monadnock Building, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>-<a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>;</li>
+      <li>Montauk Block, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palmer House, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li>
+      <li>Public Library, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>;</li>
+      <li>Reliance Building, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; <i><a href='#pl115a'>115</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Revell store, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>;</li>
+      <li>Robie house, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rookery Building, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rothschild Store, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ryerson Building, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>;</li>
+      <li>Schiller Building, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sears, Roebuck (Leiter) Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; <i><a href='#pl117a'>117</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Stock Exchange Building, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>-<a href='#Page_247'>247</a>;</li>
+      <li>Studebaker (Brunswick) Building, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tacoma Building, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>-<a href='#Page_244'>244</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tribune Tower competition (1922), <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>-<a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>; <i><a href='#pl158a'>158</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Troescher Building, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>;</li>
+      <li>Walker Warehouse, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li>
+      <li>Women’s Temple, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='WorldFair'></a></li>
+      <li>World’s Fair, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>-<a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, fig. <a href='#i389'>20</a>; <i><a href='#pl109a'>109</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Glencoe'>Glencoe</a>, <a href='#HighlandPark'>Highland Park</a>, <a href='#OakP'>Oak Park</a>, <a href='#RiverForest'>River Forest</a>, <a href='#Riverside'>Riverside</a>, <a href='#Wilmette'>Wilmette</a>, <a href='#Winnetka'>Winnetka</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Chicago windows’, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chigwell Hall (Essex), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Chorley Wood (Herts.), The Orchard, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Christiania, University, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cincinnati (Ohio), Burnet House, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>cable bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Cité Industrielle’, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Citrohan’ projects, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>-<a href='#Page_370'>370</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>-<a href='#Page_45'>45</a>; <i><a href='#pl160a'>160</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clapham, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonVictories'>London (Our Lady of Victories</a>)</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clark, John James, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clarke, William, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>; <i><a href='#pl047a'>47</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clarke &amp; Bell, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clason, I. G., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clérisseau, C.-L., <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f7' class='c025'><sup>[7]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clerkenwell, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonRedeemer'>London (Holy Redeemer)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cleveland (Ohio), Jewish Community Centre, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Rockefeller Building, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clifton (Som.), All Saints’, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Suspension Bridge, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clisson (Vendée), <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cloverley Hall (Salop), <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>-<a href='#Page_261'>261</a>, fig. <a href='#i266'>26</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cluskey, Charles B., <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Clutton, Henry, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>; <i><a href='#pl089a'>89</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cluysenaer, J.-P., <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coalbrookdale Bridge (Salop), <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coalpitheath (Glos.), St Saviour’s church and vicarage, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>; <i><a href='#pl122a'>122</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coates, Wells, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cobb, H. I., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_692'>692</span>Cobb &amp; Frost, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cobham (Surrey), Benfleet Hall, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cochin, C.-N., <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cockerell, Sir Charles, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cockerell, C. R., <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>; <i><a href='#pl112a'>112</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cockerell, S. P., <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Codman house project, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coe, H. E., <a href='#Page_159'>159</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coe &amp; Hofland, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cohasset (Mass.), Bryant house, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coignet, François, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Colbert, Jean-Baptiste, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cole, Sir Henry, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>-<a href='#Page_164'>164</a>, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f212' class='c025'><sup>[212]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cole, Thomas, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f93' class='c025'><sup>[93]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Collcutt, T. E., <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cologne, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Flora Garden, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>;</li>
+      <li>High School, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hochhaus am Hansaring, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>;</li>
+      <li>Stadttheater, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>; <i><a href='#pl077a'>77</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Trinitatiskirche, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>;</li>
+      <li>Werkbund Exhibition (1914), Hall of Machinery, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>theatre, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Marienburg'>Marienburg</a>, <a href='#Riehl'>Riehl</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Colonna, Edward, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Columbia, (S.C.), Insane Asylum, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Columbus (Ind.), Tabernacle Church, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Columbus (Ohio), Ohio State Capitol, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>; <i><a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Combe Abbey (War.), <a href='#Page_183'>183</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Commissioners’ Churches, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Como, Casa del Fascio, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Compiègne, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Compositionalism, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f520' class='c025'><sup>[520]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Compton (Surrey), Watts Chapel, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch17'>17</a>)<a href='#f381' class='c025'><sup>[381]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Concrete, reinforced, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Congleton (Cheshire), Town Hall, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>; <i><a href='#pl092a'>92</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Connell, A. D., <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f493' class='c025'><sup>[493]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f533' class='c025'><sup>[533]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='ConnellWard'></a>Connell, Ward &amp; Lucas, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Constantinople, <i>see</i> <a href='#Istanbul'>Istanbul</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Contamin, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Contant d’Ivry, Pierre, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Contrasts</i> (Pugin), <a href='#Page_97'>97</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Conway (Carnarvonsh.), suspension bridge, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>tubular bridge, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Coolidge'></a>Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch &amp; Abbott, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cooperstown (N.Y.), Hyde Hall, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Copenhagen, Absalons Gaard, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Agricultural School, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_693'>693</span>Amagertorv housing estate, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gaol, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grundvig Church, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>; <i><a href='#pl175a'>175</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hans Tavsengade housing estate, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>;</li>
+      <li>23 Havnegade, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hornsbaekhus, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kongegården Estate, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;</li>
+      <li>Magasin du Nord, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Bank, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace Hotel, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace of Justice, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
+      <li>Police Headquarters, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sankt Ansgars Church, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>;</li>
+      <li>Søtorvet, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, fig. <a href='#i156b'>16</a>;</li>
+      <li>Thorwaldsen Museum, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>-<a href='#Page_41'>41</a>; <i><a href='#pl016a'>16</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>; <i><a href='#pl174a'>174</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>University Library, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vor Frue Kirke, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>; <i><a href='#pl004a'>4</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Gentofte'>Gentofte Komune</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Corbett, Harvey W., <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f521' class='c025'><sup>[521]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Helmle'>Helmle &amp; Corbett</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cordemoy, A.-L., <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f2' class='c025'><sup>[2]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cork, St Finbar’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>-<a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Corlies, John B., <a href='#Page_124'>124</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cornelius, Peter, <a href='#Page_31'>31</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cortot, J.-P., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Corts de Sarría, Las, Miralles Estate, <a href='#Page_303'>303</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cosenza, Luigi, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Costa, Lúcio, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>; <i><a href='#pl171'>171</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coste, P.-X., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cottage Grove (Ore.), First Presbyterian Church, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Cottage orné</i>, <a href='#Page_253'>253</a>; <i><a href='#pl122a'>122</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Cottage Residences</i> (Downing), <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, fig. <a href='#i258'>22</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cotte, Robert de, <a href='#Page_446'>446</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f129' class='c025'><sup>[129]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Couture, G.-M., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Coventry (War.), Tile Hill Estate, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Crabtree, William, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cragg, John, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cragside (Northumberland), <a href='#Page_209'>209</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Craigellachie (Banff), bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>; <i><a href='#pl059'>59</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cram, Ralph Adams, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cram &amp; Ferguson, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>; <i><a href='#pl177a'>177</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cramail (Cramailler), <a href='#Page_107'>107</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Crawford, William, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Crivelli, Ferdinando, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cronkhill (Salop), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Crucy, Mathurin, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Crystal Palace, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cubitt, James, <a href='#Page_481'>481</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f542' class='c025'><sup>[542]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cubitt &amp; Partners, James, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>; <i><a href='#pl186a'>186</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cubitt, Lewis, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>; <i><a href='#pl066a'>66</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cubitt, Thomas, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f209' class='c025'><sup>[209]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cubitt, Sir William, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_694'>694</span>Cudell, Adolph, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cudell &amp; Blumenthal, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cuéllar, Serrano, Gomez &amp; Co., <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cuijpers, Eduard, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cuijpers, P. J. H., <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>-<a href='#Page_200'>200</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>; <i><a href='#pl101a'>101</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Culzean (Ayrshire), Castle, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cumberland, F. W., <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cumbernauld New Town (Dunbartonsh.), <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cummings, Charles A., <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cundy, Joseph, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f209' class='c025'><sup>[209]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cundy, Thomas (the elder), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Cundy, Thomas (the younger), <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f209' class='c025'><sup>[209]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Curtain-wall, <a href='#Page_465'>465</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f451' class='c025'><sup>[451]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>D</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Daly, C.-D., <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f193' class='c025'><sup>[193]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Damesme, L.-E.-A., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dance, George, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Daniell, Thomas, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Danzig, Stadttheater, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Darbishire, H. A., <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f233' class='c025'><sup>[233]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Darby, Abraham (III), <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dark, Frankland, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Darmstadt, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Artillery Barracks, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>;</li>
+      <li>Behrens house, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition Gallery, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ludwigskirche, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wedding Tower, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>D’Aronco, Raimondo, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>-<a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Davioud, G.-J.-A., <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f360' class='c025'><sup>[360]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Davis, A. J., <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>; <i><a href='#pl042a'>42</a></i>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Town2'>Town &amp; Davis</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Davis, Arthur J., <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f523' class='c025'><sup>[523]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dawpool (Cheshire), <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Daymond, J., <a href='#Page_161'>161</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deane, Sir Thomas, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>; <i><a href='#pl086a'>86</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deane, Thomas Newenham, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Deane'></a>Deane &amp; Woodward, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <i><a href='#pl086a'>86</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deanery Gardens (Berks.), <a href='#Page_278'>278</a>, <a href='#Page_404'>404</a>; <i><a href='#pl182a'>182</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Debat-Ponsan, J.-H.-E., <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Debret, François, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Decorator and Furnisher</i>, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deglane, H.-A.-A., <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>-<a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Dekorative Kunst</i>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Delacroix, Eugène, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Delano, William A., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f515' class='c025'><sup>[515]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#DelanoAldrich'>Delano &amp; Aldrich</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='DelanoAldrich'></a>Delano &amp; Aldrich, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Delavan Lake (Wis.), Ross house, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>; <i><a href='#pl143a'>143</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_695'>695</span>Delon (Dilon, Dillon), <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Delpini, José, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Delstern, Crematorium, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Demetz, F.-A., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Demmler, G. A., <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Denham (Herts.), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Denis, Maurice, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Denver (Col.), Mile-High Center, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deperthes, P.-J.-E., <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Derby, calico mill, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Andrew’s, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Marie’s, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trijunct Station, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>-<a href='#Page_122'>122</a>; <i><a href='#pl062a'>62</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Desjardins, Antoine, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Desmarest, L.-F., <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Desprez, L.-J., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dessau, Bauhaus, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>, fig. <a href='#i374'>48</a>; <i><a href='#pl161a'>161</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>City Employment Office, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>; <i><a href='#pl161a'>161</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Törten housing estate, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Destailleur, G.-H., <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Stijl'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>De Stijl</i>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Detroit (Mich.), Fisher Building, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#WarrenMich'>Warren (Mich.)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Deutz, H., <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Devey, George, <a href='#Page_453'>453</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f261' class='c025'><sup>[261]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_454'>454</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f263' class='c025'><sup>[263]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_454'>454</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f266' class='c025'><sup>[266]</sup></a>-<a href='#f267' class='c025'><sup>[267]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Dictionnaire raisonné</i> (Viollet-le-Duc), <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dierschke, Werner, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Diet, A.-N., <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dijon, Saint-Pierre, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>theatre, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Döcker, Richard, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f488' class='c025'><sup>[488]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dobson, John, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dodington House (Glos.), <a href='#Page_2'>2</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Doesburg, Theo van, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dollmann, Georg von, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>; <i><a href='#pl084'>84</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Domenech Montaner, Luis, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Dom-Ino’ project, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dommey, E.-T., <a href='#Page_136'>136</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Donaldson, T. L., <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Doric, Greek, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f4' class='c025'><sup>[4]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dornach, Goetheanum, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_464'>464</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f448' class='c025'><sup>[448]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dortsmann, Adriaen, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dos Santos de Carvalho, Eugenio, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Douillard, L.-P. and L.-C., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>; <i><a href='#pl020'>20</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dow, Alden, <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch19'>19</a>)<a href='#f414' class='c025'><sup>[414]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Downing, A. J., <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>-<a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, fig. <a href='#i258'>22</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Downton Castle (Salop), <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Doyle, J. F., <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Drake &amp; Lasdun, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Draveil, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dresden, Am Elbberg, houses, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Art Gallery, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cholera</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_696'>696</span>Fountain, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crematorium, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibitions, (1897), <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>; (1906), <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hoftheater, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Johanniskirche, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kreuzschule, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>Military hospital, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Opera House (first), <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, fig. <a href='#i037'>8</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(second), <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Oppenheim, Palais, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sophienkirche, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>Synagogue, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dreux (E.-et-L.), Chapelle-Saint-Louis, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Drew, Jane, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dromore Castle (Co. Limerick), <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f234' class='c025'><sup>[234]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Droz, Jacques, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch20'>20</a>)<a href='#f427' class='c025'><sup>[427]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Duban, J.-F., <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>-<a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f63' class='c025'><sup>[63]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl072a'>72</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Du Barry, Mme, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dublin, Crystal Palace, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Kildare Street Club, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+      <li>Liffey Bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nelson Pillar, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trinity College Museum, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Duc, L.-J., <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dudok, W. M., <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>-<a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl157a'>157</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Duiker, Johannes, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dulong, E.-A.-R., <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dulwich, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dupuy, Alfonso, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Duquesney, F.-A., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Durand, J.-N.-L., <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>ff., figs. <a href='#i021'>2</a>, <a href='#i024'>3</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>atelier, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Durand-Gasselin, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Durham (N.C.), Duke University, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dusillion, P.-C., <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>-<a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Düsseldorf, Garden and Art Exhibition, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Gesolei, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>;</li>
+      <li>Haus der Glas-Industrie, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mannesmann offices, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pempelfort Haus, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>;</li>
+      <li>Thyssen Haus, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; <i><a href='#pl191'>191</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Tietz (Kaufhof) store, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wilhelm Marx Haus, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>-<a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Dutert, C.-L.-F., <a href='#Page_283'>283</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>E</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ealing, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonMary'>London (St Mary’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>East Cowes Castle (I.o.W.), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>East Hartford (Conn.), Olmsted house, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eastlake style, <a href='#Page_457'>457</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f335' class='c025'><sup>[335]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eastnor (Herefs.), Castle, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eatington Park (War.), <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eaton Hall (Cheshire), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ebe, Gustav, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_697'>697</span><a id='EbeBenda'></a>Ebe &amp; Benda, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>-<a href='#Page_156'>156</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ecclesiological Society, <a href='#Page_445'>445</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f124' class='c025'><sup>[124]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ecclesiologist</i>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a>, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>, <a href='#Page_445'>445</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f124' class='c025'><sup>[124]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eccleston (Cheshire), church, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>École des Beaux-Arts, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Edensor (Derbysh.), <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Édifices de Rome moderne</i> (Letarouilly), <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Edinburgh, British Linen Bank, St Andrews Square, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Choragic Monument, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li>
+      <li>Commercial Bank of Scotland, George Street, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li>Free Church College, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hall of Physicians, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li>High School, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>-<a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li>Life Association of Scotland building, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Melville Column, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Gallery, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>National Monument, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li>
+      <li>Observatory, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Scottish Institution, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Scott Monument, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>; <i><a href='#pl051'>51</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Tolbooth St John’s, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>;</li>
+      <li>Waterloo Place, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Edis, R. W., <a href='#Page_217'>217</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eesteren, Cornelis van, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Egan, J. J., <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Egle, Joseph von, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Egyptian mode, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f7' class='c025'><sup>[7]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ehrhardt, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ehrmann, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eidlitz, Leopold, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eiermann, Egon, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eiffel, Gustave, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>-<a href='#Page_283'>283</a>; <i><a href='#pl130a'>130</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eisenlohr, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elberon (N.J.), Newcomb house, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a>; <i><a href='#pl125a'>125</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elevators, <i>see</i> <a href='#Lifts'>Lifts</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elliott, Archibald, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ellis, Harvey, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ellis, Peter, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>; <i><a href='#pl114a'>114</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elms, Harvey Lonsdale, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elmes, James, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elmslie, George G., <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Purcell'>Purcell &amp; Elmslie</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elstree (Herts.), The Leys, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Elvethan Park (Hants.), <a href='#Page_179'>179</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Emerson, W. R., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>, fig. <a href='#i266'>26</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Emmett, J. T., <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Empire’ style, <a href='#Page_xxvii'>xxvii</a>, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Endell, August, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Engelhart, Michel, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Englische Baukunst der Gegenwart</i> (Muthesius), <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Englisches Haus</i> (Muthesius), <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ensor, James, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_698'>698</span><i>Entretiens</i> (Viollet-le-Duc), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>, <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f252' class='c025'><sup>[252]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eppenhausen, bath-house, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>-<a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Cuno house, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>; <i><a href='#pl148a'>148</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Schröder house, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a>; <i><a href='#pl148a'>148</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ericson, Sigfrid, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>; <i><a href='#pl175a'>175</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Esherick, Joseph, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Esmonnot, L.-D.-G., <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Espérandieu, H.-J., <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Esprit Nouveau</i>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Essai sur l’architecture</i> (Laugier), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Etex, Antoine, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Etzel, Karl, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl066a'>66</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eugénie, Empress, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eustache, H.-T.-E., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Éveux-sur-L’Arbresle, La Tourette monastery, <i><a href='#pl168a'>168</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Exeter (Devon), Markets, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Expressionism, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>, <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch20'>20</a>)<a href='#f422' class='c025'><sup>[422]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_464'>464</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f447' class='c025'><sup>[447]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Eyre, Wilson, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>F</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Faaborg, Museum, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fabiani, Max, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fabri, F. X., <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fabris, Emilio de, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fairbairn, Sir William, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f171' class='c025'><sup>[171]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Falling Water (Penna.), <a href='#Page_328'>328</a>; <i><a href='#pl145a'>145</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Famin, A.-P.-Ste M., <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Farmer &amp; Dark, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Favrile’ glass, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fehn, Sverre, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Feininger, Lyonel, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Felheimer &amp; Wagner, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Félibien, J.-F., <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f2' class='c025'><sup>[2]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ferrer, Miguel, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f543' class='c025'><sup>[543]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fersenfeld, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ferstel, Heinrich von, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>-<a href='#Page_148'>148</a>; <i><a href='#pl099a'>99</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Feszl, Frigyes, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Feuerbach, Anselm, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Feure, Georges de, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Figini, Luigi, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='FiginiPollini'></a>Figini &amp; Pollini, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>-<a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Finley, James, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f158' class='c025'><sup>[158]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Finsbury, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonWorsh'>London (Worship Street)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fiocchi, Annibale, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fire-resistance, <a href='#Page_446'>446</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f148' class='c025'><sup>[148]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fischer, Karl von, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fischer, Theodor, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fischer, Vilhelm, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fisker, Kay, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>; <i><a href='#pl185a'>185</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Flachat, Eugène, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Flagg, Ernest, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_699'>699</span>Flattich, Wilhelm, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Flete (Devon), <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Florence, Cathedral, façade, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Piazza della Repubblica, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>;</li>
+      <li>Santa Croce, façade, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Florence, H. L., <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Foley, J. H., <a href='#Page_182'>182</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fontaine, P.-F.-L., <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f152' class='c025'><sup>[152]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl006a'>6</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl018a'>18</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fontainebleau (S.-et-M.), <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fonthill Abbey (Wilts.), <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fontseré, Eduardo, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Forest Hill, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonHorniman'>London (Horniman Museum)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Forsmann, F. G. J., <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#WimmelForsmann'>Wimmel &amp; Forsmann</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Förster, Emil von, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Förster, Ludwig, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>; <i><a href='#pl074'>74</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Foster, John, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fowke, Francis, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>; <i><a href='#pl083a'>83</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fowler, Charles, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fox, Sir Charles, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fox &amp; Henderson, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>-<a href='#Page_126'>126</a>; <i><a href='#pl064'>64</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fraenkel, W., <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Francis, H., <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Francis Joseph, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Francis Brothers, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frank, Josef, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frankfort, circular hall, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>I. G. Farben Co., <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frankfort (Kentucky), Kentucky State Capitol, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frazee, John, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f100' class='c025'><sup>[100]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frederick the Great Monument, project by Gilly, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>; <i><a href='#pl009a'>9</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frederick William IV, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>-<a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fredericton (N.B.), Anglican Cathedral, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Freiburg, church, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>station, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Freyssinet, E., <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frézier, A.-F., <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f2' class='c025'><sup>[2]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fries, A.-J.-F., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Frizzi, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Froehlicher, C.-M.-A., <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#GrisartFroehlicher'>Grisart &amp; Froehlicher</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Froger, Willem Anthony, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>From, H. C., <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fry, E. Maxwell, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a>, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Führich, J., <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fuller, Buckminster, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f544' class='c025'><sup>[544]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fuller, Thomas, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Fuller &amp; Jones, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='FullerLaver'></a>Fuller &amp; Laver, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f251' class='c025'><sup>[251]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Functionalism, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Furness, Frank, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>-<a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i><a href='#pl095a'>95</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Futurism, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f495' class='c025'><sup>[495]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='pageno' id='Page_700'>700</span><span class='c002'>G</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gabriel, A.-J., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_446'>446</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f139' class='c025'><sup>[139]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Galia, José Miguel, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gallé, Émile, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gandy, J. M., <a href='#Page_92'>92</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garabit, Pont de, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garbett, Edward, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garches (S.-et-O.), Les Terrasses, <a href='#Page_371'>371</a>; <i><a href='#pl160a'>160</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Nubar house, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garden, Hugh M. G., <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch19'>19</a>)<a href='#f415' class='c025'><sup>[415]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Garden Cities of Tomorrow</i> (Howard), <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garden City movement, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gardiner (Maine), Oaklands, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gardner, Eugene C., <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garling, Henry B., <a href='#Page_159'>159</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garnier, J.-L.-C., <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>-<a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, fig. <a href='#i139'>15</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl071'>71</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garnier, Tony, <a href='#Page_317'>317</a>-<a href='#Page_319'>319</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Garraf, Bodega Güell, <a href='#Page_305'>305</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gärtner, Friedrich von, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>ff., <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>; <i><a href='#pl010a'>10</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl017a'>17</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gau, F.-C., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>; <i><a href='#pl055a'>55</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gaudí i Cornet, Antoni, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>, <a href='#Page_201'>201</a>-<a href='#Page_204'>204</a>, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>-<a href='#Page_305'>305</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>; <i><a href='#pl096a'>96</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl135a'>135</a>-<a href='#pl137a'>137</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gauguin, Paul, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Gavea'></a>Gávea, Niemeyer’s house, <a href='#Page_424'>424</a>-<a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Gedanken über die Nachahmung der griechischen Werke</i> (Winckelmann), <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Geiger, Theodor, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Geneva, Maison Clarté, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Palace of the League of Nations, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Genoa, Camposanto di Staglieno, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Galleria Mazzini, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f204' class='c025'><sup>[204]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Teatro Carlo Felice, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Genovese, Gaetano, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Gentofte'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gentofte Komune, Øregaard School, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl176a'>176</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gentz, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>George III, xxi</li>
+  <li class='c040'>George IV, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>George, Sir Ernest, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>George &amp; Peto, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>; <i><a href='#pl104a'>104</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Geschichte der Kunst des Altertums</i> (Winckelmann), <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f5' class='c025'><sup>[5]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gesellius, Herman, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gibberd, Frederick, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gibson, John, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Giedion, Sigfried, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f1' class='c025'><sup>[1]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilbert, Bradford Lee, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilbert, Cass, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>; <i><a href='#pl178'>178</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilbert, E.-J., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gildemeister, Charles, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Giles, John, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>; <i><a href='#pl080a'>80</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_701'>701</span>Gill, Irving, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>-<a href='#Page_335'>335</a>; <i><a href='#pl147a'>147</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gillet, Guillaume, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilly, David, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilly, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>, <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>; <i><a href='#pl009a'>9</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gilman, Arthur, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gingell, William B., <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gisors, A.-J.-B.-G. de, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gisors, H.-A.-G. de, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gisors, J.-P. de, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glaesel, H., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glasgow, Caledonia Road Free Church, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>-<a href='#Page_62'>62</a>; <i><a href='#pl029'>29</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Independent Church, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jamaica Street warehouse, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Martyrs’ Public School, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a>;</li>
+      <li>Miss Cranston’s tea-rooms, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a>, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>;</li>
+      <li>Moray Place, Strathbungo, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>; <i><a href='#pl035a'>35</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Municipal and County Buildings, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li>Queen’s Park Church, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Exchange, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Vincent Street church, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>;</li>
+      <li>School of Art, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a>-<a href='#Page_299'>299</a>, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>; <i><a href='#pl132a'>132</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl135a'>135</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Scotland Street School, <a href='#Page_300'>300</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glass, use of, <a href='#Page_xxix'>xxix</a>, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glen Andred (Sussex), <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>-<a href='#Page_209'>209</a>, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>; <i><a href='#pl102a'>102</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glenbegh Towers (Co. Kerry), <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f234' class='c025'><sup>[234]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Glencoe'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glencoe (Ill.), Booth house, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Glasner house, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>, fig. <a href='#i323'>39</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Glenorchy (Tasmania), Presbyterian church, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Godalming (Surrey), The Orchards, <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Godde, É.-H., <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Godefroy, Maximilien, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>-<a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Godwin, E. W., <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <i><a href='#pl092a'>92</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl113'>113</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Godwin, George, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gondoin, Jacques, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gonzalez Velasquez, Isidro, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Goodhue, Bertram G., <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Goodwin, Francis, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gosford Castle (Armagh), <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f108' class='c025'><sup>[108]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gospel Oak, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonMartin'>London (St Martin’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Göteborg, Jubilee Exhibition, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Masthugg Church, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>; <i><a href='#pl175a'>175</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Röhss Museum, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Goust, L., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gradenigo, Antonio, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>; <i><a href='#pl023a'>23</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Graff, Frederick, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Graham, James Gillespie, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grain elevators, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grainger, Thomas, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>-<a href='#Page_70'>70</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Grammar of Ornament</i> (Jones), <a href='#Page_243'>243</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Grand Durand’, <a href='#Page_441'>441</a>(<a href='#ch02'>2</a>)<a href='#f40' class='c025'><sup>[40]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_702'>702</span>Grandjean de Montigny, A.-H.-V., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grand Rapids (Mich.), Jewish Community Centre, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grange-Blanche, <i>see</i> <a href='#LyonsHerriot'>Lyons (Herriot Hospital)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grange Park (Hants.), <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>-<a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Granpré-Molière, M. J., <a href='#Page_391'>391</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grässel, Hans, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Great Maytham (Kent), <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Great Warley (Essex), St Mary the Virgin, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>-<a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greet Jan de, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Green, John, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Green, J. H., <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Green, W. Curtis, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greenaway, Kate, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greene &amp; Greene, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>-<a href='#Page_334'>334</a>; <i><a href='#pl147a'>147</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greenough, Horatio, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greenway, Francis, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Greenwood (Louisiana), <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gregan, J. E., <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grégoire, H.-C.-M., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grenoble, Lycée, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Tour d’Orientation, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grim’s Dyke (Middx.), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grisart, J.-L.-V., <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#GrisartFroehlicher'>Grisart &amp; Froehlicher</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='GrisartFroehlicher'></a>Grisart &amp; Froehlicher, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>; <i><a href='#pl062a'>62</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gropius, Martin, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gropius, Walter, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>-<a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>-<a href='#Page_375'>375</a>, <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>-<a href='#Page_377'>377</a>, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, fig. <a href='#i374'>48</a>; <i><a href='#pl158a'>158</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl161a'>161</a>-<a href='#pl162a'>162</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grosch, C. H., <a href='#Page_41'>41</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Grosz, Josef, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Guben, Wolf house, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Guerrieri, A., <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Guimard, Hector, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>-<a href='#Page_295'>295</a>; <i><a href='#pl137a'>137</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Guizot, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gutton, H.-B., <a href='#Page_295'>295</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Gwrych Castle (Denbighsh.), <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>; <i><a href='#pl049'>49</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>H</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hadfield, George, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hagen, G. B., <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl176a'>176</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hagen, Folkwang Museum, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Haggerston, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonChad'>London (St Chad’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hagley Park (Worcs.), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hague, Thomas, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hahr, Erik, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Haifa, Government Hospital, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Halifax (Yorks.). Town Hall, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>; <i><a href='#pl078a'>78</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hallams, The, (Surrey), <a href='#Page_209'>209</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Halle, Museum of Prehistory, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_703'>703</span>Haller, Martin, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f206' class='c025'><sup>[206]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hallet, É.-S., <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hamburg, Alster Arcade, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Chilehaus, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>; <i><a href='#pl153a'>153</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>;</li>
+      <li>Johanneum, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Kunstgewerbe Haus, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nikolaikirche, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>; <i><a href='#pl052a'>52</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Opera House, old, <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>;</li>
+      <li>Petrikirche, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Post, Alte, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rathaus, <a href='#Page_155'>155</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>competition (1876), <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f206' class='c025'><sup>[206]</sup></a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hamilton, David, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hamilton, Gavin, <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hamilton, Thomas, <a href='#Page_71'>71</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hampstead, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonGreenaway'>London (Greenaway house, St Paul’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hankar, Paul, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f379' class='c025'><sup>[379]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hanover, Continental Rubber Building, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Opera House, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>-<a href='#Page_38'>38</a>; <i><a href='#pl014a'>14</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hansen, C. F., <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>; <i><a href='#pl004a'>4</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hansen, H. C., <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hansen, Theophil von, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>; <i><a href='#pl072a'>72</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hansen &amp; Hygom, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hansom, Joseph A., <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hardwick, Philip, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hardwick, P. C., <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hardwick, Thomas, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f67' class='c025'><sup>[67]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harlaxton (Lincs.), <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harmon, Arthur Loomis, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#ShreveLamb'>Shreve, Lamb &amp; Harmon</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harris, Thomas, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f235' class='c025'><sup>[235]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f433' class='c025'><sup>[433]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harris (R.I.), Governor Harris Manufactory, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harrison, Wallace K., <a href='#Page_415'>415</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='harrisonabramowitz'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harrison &amp; Abramowitz, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harrison, Thomas, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harrow (Middx.), Harrow School, Speech Room, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hartford (Conn.), Cheney Block, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>-<a href='#Page_239'>239</a>; <i><a href='#pl116a'>116</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Memorial Arch, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>;</li>
+      <li>Connecticut State Capitol, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trinity College, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>-<a href='#Page_188'>188</a>; <i><a href='#pl088'>88</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hartley, Jesse, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a>(<a href='#ch01'>1</a>)<a href='#f22' class='c025'><sup>[22]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Harvey, John, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f67' class='c025'><sup>[67]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hasenauer, Karl von, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>; <i><a href='#pl073a'>73</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hastings, Thomas, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#CarrereHastings'>Carrère &amp; Hastings</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hatfield, R. G., <a href='#Page_124'>124</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hauberrisser, G. J. von, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Haussmann, G.-E., <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f184' class='c025'><sup>[184]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Havana, Malecón, <a href='#Page_172'>172</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Retiro Odontológico, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_704'>704</span>Haviland, John, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f171' class='c025'><sup>[171]</sup></a>, fig. <a href='#i079'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Havre, <i>see</i> <a href='#LeHavre'>Le Havre</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hawarden (Flintsh.), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Heger, Franz, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Heideloff, K. A. von, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Heise, F., <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Held, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Helensburgh (Dunbartonsh.), Hill House, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Helfreich, W. G., <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f479' class='c025'><sup>[479]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hellerau, Art Colony, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Helmle'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Helmle &amp; Corbett, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Helsinki, National Museum, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hemming, Samuel, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hennebique, François, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Hennigsdorf'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hennigsdorf, A.E.G. housing estate, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a>, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hentrich &amp; Petschnigg, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>; <i><a href='#pl191'>191</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Herculaneum, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Héret, L.-J.-A., <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Herholdt, J. D., <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Herrenchiemsee, Schloss, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hesketh, Lloyd Bamforth, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hesse, A., <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hetsch, G. F., <a href='#Page_41'>41</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Hietzing'></a>Hietzing, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>-<a href='#Page_16'>16</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>Gloriettegasse, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li>
+      <li>Scheu house, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>, fig. <a href='#i353'>43</a>; <a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>High-and-Over (Bucks.), <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f465' class='c025'><sup>[465]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Highclere Castle (Hants.), <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>; <i><a href='#pl037a'>37</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Highgate, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonHighpoint'>London (Highpoint)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='HighlandPark'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Highland Park (Ill.), Willitts house, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>, fig. <a href='#i322'>38</a>; <i><a href='#pl142a'>142</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hilversum, Bavinck School, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>; <i><a href='#pl157a'>157</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Public Baths, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hindenburg, Sankt Josef, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hinderton (Cheshire), <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Historicism, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f511' class='c025'><sup>[511]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hitler, Adolf, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hittorff, J.-I., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>-<a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_443'>443</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f64' class='c025'><sup>[64]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_456'>456</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f188' class='c025'><sup>[188]</sup></a>, fig. <a href='#i047'>9</a>; <i><a href='#pl019'>19</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hitzig, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>; <i><a href='#pl077a'>77</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoban, James, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hobart (Tasmania), St John’s, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Hobby Horse</i>, <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Höchst, I. G. Farben Co., <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>-<a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hodler, Ferdinand, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoffmann, Joseph, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>-<a href='#Page_351'>351</a>; <i><a href='#pl154a'>154</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoffmann, Julius, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoffmann, Ludwig, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoffmann, Theodor, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Höger, Fritz, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>; <i><a href='#pl153a'>153</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hog’s Back (Surrey), Sturgis house, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>; <i><a href='#pl129a'>129</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_705'>705</span>Hohenschwangau, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Holabird, William, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Holabird'>Holabird &amp; Roche</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Holabird'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Holabird &amp; Roche, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>-<a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>; <i><a href='#pl120'>120</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Holford, Sir William, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Holland, Henry, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Honeyman, John, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Honeyman &amp; Keppie, <a href='#Page_298'>298</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hood, Raymond, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hook of Holland, housing estate, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>; <i><a href='#pl163a'>163</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hooke, Robert, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a>(<a href='#ch01'>1</a>)<a href='#f21' class='c025'><sup>[21]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hooker, Philip, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hope, Thomas, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hopedene (Surrey), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hopkins, Bishop, <a href='#Page_445'>445</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f128' class='c025'><sup>[128]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hopper, Thomas, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f108' class='c025'><sup>[108]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl060a'>60</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Horeau, Hector, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Horsforth (Yorks.), Cookridge Convalescent Hospital, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Horta, Victor, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a>ff., <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, fig. <a href='#i290'>34</a>; <i><a href='#pl130a'>130</a>-<a href='#pl132a'>132</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Houses and Gardens</i> (Baillie Scott), <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>, fig. <a href='#i278'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Houston (Texas), Rice Institute, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Hove'></a>  Hove (Sussex), St Andrew’s, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Howard, Ebenezer, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Howard, Henry, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Howard, John Galen, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Howe, George, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#HoweLescaze'>Howe &amp; Lescaze</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='HoweLescaze'></a>Howe &amp; Lescaze, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>; <i><a href='#pl169'>169</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Howells, John Mead, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoxie, J. C., <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoxie, Samuel K., <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hoxton, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonSaviour'>London (St Saviour’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hübsch, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Huddersfield (Yorks.), station, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hudnut, Joseph, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f498' class='c025'><sup>[498]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hugo, Victor, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hull (Yorks.), Congregational Chapel, Great Thornton St, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hunt, Richard M., <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hunt, T. R, fig. <a href='#i255'>21</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hurstpierpoint (Sussex), St John’s College, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hussey, Christopher, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Hutchinson, Henry, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>; <i><a href='#pl050a'>50</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Huvé, J.-J.-M., <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Huyot, J.-N., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>I</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>I’Anson, Edward, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Idlewild Airport (N.Y.), <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_706'>706</span>Ile des Épis (Bas-Rhin), monument, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ilkley (Yorks.), Heathcote, <a href='#Page_404'>404</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Margaret’s, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Impington (Cambs.), Village College, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Indian Revival’, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Indianapolis (Ind.), Indiana State Capitol, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ingres, J.-A.-D., <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f63' class='c025'><sup>[63]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Innendekoration</i>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘International’ style, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>International Style</i> (Hitchcock and Johnson), <a href='#Page_380'>380</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>In welchem Styl sollen wir bauen?</i> (Hübsch), <a href='#Page_23'>23</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Inwood, H. W., <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Inwood, William, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Iofan, B. M., <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f468' class='c025'><sup>[468]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ionian Antiquities</i>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ionic order, Greek, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Isabelle, C.-E., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Isaeus, P. M. R., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Istanbul'></a>Istanbul, British Embassy, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Crimean Memorial Church, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hilton Hotel, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>;</li>
+      <li>mosque by D’Aronco, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Italian Villas, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Itten, Adolf, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ivrea, Olivetti plant, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>J</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Jack-arches’, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jacquemin-Belisle, Charles, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jäger, Franz, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Japonisme</i>, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jappelli, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>; <i><a href='#pl023a'>23</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jareño y Alarcón, Francisco, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Jeanneret'></a>Jeanneret, C.-É., <i>see</i> <a href='#Corbusier'>Le Corbusier</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jeanneret, Pierre, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a>, <a href='#Page_466'>466</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f470' class='c025'><sup>[470]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jearrad, W. C. and R., <a href='#Page_87'>87</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jefferson, Thomas, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, fig. <a href='#i083'>12</a>; <i><a href='#pl038a'>38</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jekyll, Gertrude, <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jena, theatre, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f481' class='c025'><sup>[481]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jenney, William LeBaron, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; <i><a href='#pl117a'>117</a></i>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Jenney'>Jenney &amp; Mundie</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Jenney'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jenney &amp; Mundie, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jensen, A. C., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jensen, Ferdinand, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, fig. <a href='#i156b'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='JensenKlint'></a>Jensen Klint, P. V., <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>; <i><a href='#pl175a'>175</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jerusalem, Hadassah University, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jessop, William, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jettmar, Rudolf, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_707'>707</span>Johansson, Aron, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Johnson, Philip, <a href='#Page_380'>380</a>, <a href='#Page_389'>389</a>, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>, <a href='#Page_424'>424</a>, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a>, fig. <a href='#i426'>57</a>; <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl192'>192</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Johnston, Francis, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Johnston, William, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Joldwynds (Surrey), <a href='#Page_213'>213</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Joly, J.-J.-B. de, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jones, Herbert Chilion, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jones, Jenkin Lloyd, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jones, Owen, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jory, H. H., <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jourdain, C.-R.-F.-M., <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>; <i><a href='#pl133'>133</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Jugend</i>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Jugendstil</i>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>-<a href='#Page_348'>348</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jujol Gibert, J. M., <a href='#Page_305'>305</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Jüngst, K. A., <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>K</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kaftanzoglou, Lyssander, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kahn, Albert, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f398' class='c025'><sup>[398]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Kahn Bar’, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f398' class='c025'><sup>[398]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kahn, Louis, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kalkos, Panajiotis, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kamenz, Schloss, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kamerlingh Onnes, M., <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kampmann, Hack, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl173a'>173</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kandinsky, Wassily, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kankakee (Ill.), Bradley house, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Hickox house, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>-<a href='#Page_274'>274</a>, fig. <a href='#i274'>31</a>; <i><a href='#pl142a'>142</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kansas City (Missouri), <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>New York Life Insurance Co., <a href='#Page_244'>244</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Karlsruhe, Art Gallery, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Catholic church, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a>;</li>
+      <li>Dammerstock housing estate, <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ettlinger Gate, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>;</li>
+      <li>Markgräfliches Palais, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marktplatz, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>-<a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a>-<a href='#Page_23'>23</a>, fig. <a href='#i017'>1</a>; <i><a href='#pl010a'>10</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Ministry of Finance, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rondellplatz, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Technische Hochschule, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theatre, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>;</li>
+      <li>Weinbrenner’s house, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Katwijk, Allegonda, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kaufmann, Emil, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kaufmann, Oskar, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Keeling, Bassett, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Keller, G. W., <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kellum, John W., <a href='#Page_124'>124</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kelly, Nathan B., <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f93' class='c025'><sup>[93]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kemp, G. Meikle, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>; <i><a href='#pl051'>51</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kensington, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a>  (<a href='#LondonSaints'>All Saints’</a>,  <a href='#LondonBurges'>Burges house</a>,  <a href='#LondonGeological'>Geological Museum</a>,  <a href='#LondonHoward'>Howard house</a>,  <a href='#LondonLowther'>Lowther Lodge</a>,  <a href='#LondonDunstan'>St Dunstan’s Road</a>,  <a href='#LondonScience'>Science Museum</a>,  <a href='#LondonThackeray'>Thackeray house</a>,  <a href='#LondonVA'>Victoria and Albert Museum</a>)</li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_708'>708</span>Kerr, Peter, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kew, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Khnopff, Fernand, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kilburn, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonAugustine'>London (St Augustine’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Killy Moon (Co. Tyrone), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kilmacolm (Renfrewsh.), Windy Hill, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kimball, Edward, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kimball, Fiske, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f1' class='c025'><sup>[1]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kinmel Park (Denbighsh.), <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kleanthis, Stamathios, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>-<a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klee, Paul, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klenze, Leo von, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>ff., <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, fig. <a href='#i026'>4</a>;  <i><a href='#pl009a'>9</a></i>,  <i><a href='#pl016a'>16</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klerk, Michael de, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a>-<a href='#Page_359'>359</a>; <i><a href='#pl156a'>156</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klieber, J., <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klimt, Gustav, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klint, P. V. Jensen, <i>see</i> <a href='#JensenKlint'>Jensen Klint</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Klumb, Henry, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>, <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch19'>19</a>)<a href='#f414' class='c025'><sup>[414]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knapp, J. M., <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knight, John G., <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knight, Richard Payne, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>-<a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knoblauch, Eduard, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knowles, Sir James T., <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>-<a href='#Page_161'>161</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Knox &amp; Elliot, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Koch, Alexander, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Koch, Gaetano, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>; <i><a href='#pl076a'>76</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Koerfer, Jacob, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kolberg, Town Hall, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>König, Karl, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Korngold, Lucjan, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kornhäusel, Josef, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Krafft, J. C., <a href='#Page_441'>441</a>(<a href='#ch02'>2</a>)<a href='#f41' class='c025'><sup>[41]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Krahe, P. J., <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kramer, P. L., <a href='#Page_357'>357</a>-<a href='#Page_359'>359</a>; <i><a href='#pl156a'>156</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Krefeld, Esters house, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Lange house, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kreis, Wilhelm, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a>-<a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kristensen, Eske, <i><a href='#pl185a'>185</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kromhout, Willem, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kühne, M. H., <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kumasi, Technical College, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kumlien, A. F. and K. H., <a href='#Page_157'>157</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Kump, Ernest J., <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Kunst</i>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>L</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Labarre, E.-E. de, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Labrouste, F.-M.-T., <a href='#Page_51'>51</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Labrouste, Henri-P.-F., <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, fig. <a href='#i125'>14</a>; <i><a href='#pl021'>21</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl069'>69</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_709'>709</span>La Chaux de Fond, Le Corbusier’s parents’ house, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lacornée, Jacques, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>La Croix-Rousse, <i>see</i> <a href='#LyonsTextile'>Lyons (textile school)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ladies Home Journal</i>, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>LaFarge, John, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lafever, Minard, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>La Jolla (Cal.), Scripps house, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lakeland (Fl.), Florida Southern College, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lake Windermere (Lancs.), Blackwell house, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Broadleys, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>, fig. <a href='#i277'>32</a>; <i><a href='#pl129a'>129</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lallerstedt, Erik, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Laloux, V.-A.-F., <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>; <i><a href='#pl183a'>183</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lamandé, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lamb, E. B., <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>La Mouche, <i>see</i> <a href='#LyonsSlaughter'>Lyons (Municipal Slaughterhouse)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lancing (Sussex), Lancing College, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>-<a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Langhans, K. F., <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Langhans, K. G., <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>La Padulla, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lassaw, Ibrahim, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lassus, J.-B.-A., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Latrobe, Benjamin H., <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a>; <i><a href='#pl005'>5</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Laugier, M.-A., <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lausanne, Lunatic Asylum, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Laver, Augustus, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i>see also</i>  <a href='#FullerLaver'>Fuller &amp; Laver, Stent &amp; Laver</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Laves, G. L. F., <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>-<a href='#Page_38'>38</a>; <i><a href='#pl014a'>14</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>La Villette, <i>see</i> <a href='#SaintJacques'>Paris (Saint-Jacques-Saint-Christophe)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Laybourne-Smith, Lewis, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lazo, Carlos, <i><a href='#pl184'>184</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leadville (Col.), Hotel Vendome, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>League of Nations, project for Palace of the, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leamington (War.), St Peter’s, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>; <i><a href='#pl089a'>89</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lebas, L.-H., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>-<a href='#Page_50'>50</a>; <i><a href='#pl018a'>18</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leblanc, Abbé, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>LeBrun, Napoleon, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leclerc, A.-F.-R., <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lecointe, J.-F.-J., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leconte, E.-C., <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Corbusier'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Le Corbusier, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>ff., <a href='#Page_376'>376</a>-<a href='#Page_377'>377</a>, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>ff., <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>-<a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>; <i><a href='#pl159'>159</a>-<a href='#pl160a'>160</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl165a'>165</a>-<a href='#pl168a'>168</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ledoux, C.-N., <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>-<a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>; <i><a href='#pl001'>1</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ledru, L.-C.-F., <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leeds (Yorks.), <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>-<a href='#Page_47'>47</a>
+    <ul>
+      <li>Boar Lane, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_710'>710</span>Christ Church, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;</li>
+      <li>Corn Exchange, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>; <i><a href='#pl037a'>37</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a>; <i><a href='#pl078a'>78</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>1-2 York Place, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leeds, W. H., <a href='#Page_73'>73</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leek (Staffs.), All Saints’, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leeuwarden, Palace of Justice, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lefranc, P.-B., <a href='#Page_107'>107</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lefuel, H.-M., <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>; <i><a href='#pl068'>68</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Léger, Fernand, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Legrand, J.-G., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='LeHavre'></a>Le Havre, Museum and Library, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Place de l’Hôtel de Ville, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a>-<a href='#Page_317'>317</a>; <i><a href='#pl140a'>140</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leins, C. F., <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leinweber, Joseph W., <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leipzig, Gewandhaus, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>-<a href='#Page_154'>154</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Imperial Law Courts, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li>
+      <li>Weststrasse church, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lelong, Paul, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lemaire, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>L’Enfant, P.-C., <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leningrad, <i>see</i> <a href='#Petersburg'>Petersburg</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lenné, P. J., <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lennox, E. J., <a href='#Page_225'>225</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lenoir, V.-B., <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lenormand, Louis, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>León, Casa de los Botines, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lepère, J.-B., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>; <i><a href='#pl019'>19</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Le Pradet (Var), de Mandrot house, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>-<a href='#Page_384'>384</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lequeu, J.-J., <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lequeux, P.-E., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Le Raincy (S.-et-O.), Notre-Dame, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a>-<a href='#Page_314'>314</a>, fig. <a href='#i313'>37</a>; <i><a href='#pl141'>141</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leroy, J.-D., <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lescaze, William E., <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>; <i><a href='#pl169'>169</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lesueur, J.-B., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Letarouilly, P.-M., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Letchworth Garden City (Herts.), <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lethaby, W. R., <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Lettere sopra l’architettura</i> (Algarotti), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leverton, Thomas, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lewis, M. W., <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Leyswood (Sussex), <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>-<a href='#Page_310'>310</a>, <a href='#Page_261'>261</a>-<a href='#Page_262'>262</a>, fig. <a href='#i210'>19</a>; <i><a href='#pl123'>123</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lienau, Detlef, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Life</i>, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Lifts'></a>Lifts, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lille, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lima, Colmena, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lincoln, Abraham, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lincoln (Mass.), Gropius’s house, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_711'>711</span>Lincoln (Neb.), Nebraska State Capitol, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Linderhof, Schloss, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>; <i><a href='#pl084'>84</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lindgren, A. E., <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Linz, Austrian Tobacco Administration factory, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lisbon, Garret Theatre, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>lower city, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;</li>
+      <li>Municipal Chamber, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace of Arzuda, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Little, Arthur, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f294' class='c025'><sup>[294]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Liverpool, Bank Chambers, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>; <i><a href='#pl112a'>112</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Brunswick Buildings, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cathedral, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>;</li>
+      <li>16 Cook Street, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crown Street Station, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;</li>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ismay, Imrie &amp; Co. offices, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lime Street Station, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;</li>
+      <li>Oriel Chambers, <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>; <i><a href='#pl114a'>114</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Parr’s Bank, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Anne’s, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li>
+      <li>St George’s, Everton, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>;</li>
+      <li>St George’s Hall, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Margaret’s, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Michael’s, Toxteth Road, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>-<a href='#Page_118'>118</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Oswald’s, Old Swan, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Philip’s, Hardman Street, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lockwood, F. H., <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lockwood &amp; Mawson, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>-<a href='#Page_127'>127</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>; <i><a href='#pl114a'>114</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lockyer, James, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lodi, Fortunato, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lodoli, Carlo, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Loghem, J. J. van, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lombardi, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='London'></a>London, Ackroydon housing estate, Putney, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Adelaide House, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+      <li>Albert Hall, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
+      <li>Albert Hall Mansions, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>; <i><a href='#pl104a'>104</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Albert Memorial, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>-<a href='#Page_182'>182</a>; <i><a href='#pl090'>90</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Alford House, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>; <i><a href='#pl083a'>83</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Alliance Assurance, St James’s Street, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>;</li>
+      <li>All Hallows, London Wall, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Shirlock Street), <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;</li>
+          <li><a id='LondonSaints'></a>All Saints’, Camden Street, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Margaret Street), <a href='#Page_173'>173</a>-<a href='#Page_174'>174</a>; <i><a href='#pl085'>85</a>-<a href='#pl086a'>86a</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(Talbot Road), <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>All Souls’, Langham Place, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Apsley House, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Army and Navy Club, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ascension, church of the, Battersea, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>-<a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;<a id='BatterseeAscension'></a></li>
+      <li>Athenaeum Club, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bank of England, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>-<a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a>; <i><a href='#pl003'>3</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl004a'>4</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl028a'>28</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Barclays Bank, Piccadilly, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li>
+      <li>Baring Brothers offices, 8 Bishopsgate, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bedford Park, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Forster house), <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Bedford Square, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_712'>712</span>Belgrave Square, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bishopsgate Institute, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>;</li>
+      <li>Board Schools, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonBoyce'></a>Boyce house, Glebe Place, Chelsea, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bricklayer’s Arms Station, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bridgewater House, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>-<a href='#Page_75'>75</a>;</li>
+      <li>Britannic House, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+      <li>British Museum, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>-<a href='#Page_68'>68</a>; <i><a href='#pl033'>33</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Edward VII wing), <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Broad Sanctuary, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>;</li>
+      <li>Buckingham Palace, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>-<a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonBurges'></a>Burges house, Melbury Road, Kensington, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bush House, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>; <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+      <li>Cadogan Square, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cambridge Gate, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>;</li>
+      <li>Camden Church, Peckham Road, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>; <i><a href='#pl118'>118</a></i></li>
+      <li>Campden Hill Road, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cannon Street Hotel, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
+      <li>Carlton Club, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Carlton Hotel, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
+      <li>Carlton House conservatory, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>; <i><a href='#pl060a'>60</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Carlton House Terrace, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cecil Hotel, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
+      <li>Charing Cross Hotel, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
+      <li>Chelsea Hospital, stables, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>; <i><a href='#pl028a'>28</a></i>; <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>-<a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+      <li>Chelsea Embankment, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonCheyne1'></a>Cheyne House, Chelsea, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>, <a href='#Page_260'>260</a>; <i><a href='#pl037a'>37</a>-<a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i></li>
+      <li><a id='LondonCheyne2'></a></li>
+      <li>Cheyne Walk, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonChrist'></a></li>
+      <li>Christ Church, Streatham, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>; <i><a href='#pl036'>36</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonPimlico'></a></li>
+      <li>Churchill Gardens housing estate, Pimlico, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>;</li>
+      <li>Clapham Common, terraces, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>;</li>
+      <li>Coal Exchange, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl063'>63</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>College of Physicians, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>;</li>
+      <li>Collingham Gardens, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li>Columbia Market, <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f233' class='c025'><sup>[233]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Constitution Hill Arch, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>;</li>
+      <li>Corn Exchange, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;  <a href='#Page_65'>65</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cornhill, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cornwall Terrace, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li>Court of Chancery, Westminster, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>;</li>
+      <li>Covent Garden Theatre, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crown Life Office, Blackfriars, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crystal Palace, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>-<a href='#Page_126'>126</a>; <i><a href='#pl064'>64</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Crystal Palace Bazar, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cumberland Terrace, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>; <i><a href='#pl032'>32</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Devonshire House, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li>
+      <li>Duke of York’s Column, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;</li>
+      <li>Dulwich Gallery, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>;</li>
+      <li>Eaton Square, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
+      <li>Euston Square, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li>Euston Station, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition (1851), <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>-<a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;  <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(1862), <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>22 Finch Lane, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>-<a href='#Page_238'>238</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fishmongers’ Hall, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li>Foreign Office, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>;</li>
+      <li>Freemasons’ Hall, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gaiety Theatre, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>;</li>
+      <li>General Post Office, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonGeological'></a>Geological Museum, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gilbert house, Harrington Gardens, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>; <i><a href='#pl104a'>104</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Grand Hotel, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_713'>713</span>Great Western Hotel, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonGreenaway'></a></li>
+      <li>Greenaway house, 39 Frognal, Hampstead, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grosvenor Estate, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grosvenor Hotel, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grosvenor Place, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>-<a href='#Page_163'>163</a>; <i><a href='#pl080a'>80</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Grosvenor Square, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;</li>
+      <li>Guards’ Chapel, Wellington Barracks, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hampstead Garden City, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a>, fig. <a href='#i406'>54</a>;</li>
+      <li>14-16 Hans Road, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>;</li>
+      <li>Harrington Gardens, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li>Haymarket Theatre, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Heal’s store, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonHighpoint'></a></li>
+      <li>Highpoint, Highgate, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>-<a href='#Page_382'>382</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hodgson’s building, Strand, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Holland House, Bury Street, <a href='#Page_356'>356</a>-<a href='#Page_357'>357</a>; <i><a href='#pl138a'>138</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Holloway Gaol, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonRedeemer'></a>Holy Redeemer, Clerkenwell, <a href='#Page_406'>406</a>;</li>
+      <li>Holy Saviour, Aberdeen Park, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>;</li>
+      <li>Holy Trinity, Latimer Road, <a href='#Page_216'>216</a>; <i><a href='#pl106a'>106</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hope house, Piccadilly, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonHorniman'></a></li>
+      <li>Horniman Museum, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>;</li>
+      <li>Houses of Parliament, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>; <i><a href='#pl054'>54</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonHoward'></a>Howard house, Palace Green, Kensington, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hungerford Market, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(fish pavilion), <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Hyde Park Corner Screen, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>-<a href='#Page_67'>67</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Imperial Institute, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kew Gardens, lodge, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, fig. <a href='#i208'>18</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(New Palace), <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Palm Stove), <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>; <i><a href='#pl067a'>67</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>King’s Cross Station, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>; <i><a href='#pl066a'>66</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Lancaster Gate, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>;</li>
+      <li>Langham Hotel, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>; <i><a href='#pl080a'>80</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Law Courts, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+      <li>Litchfield House, 15 St James’s Square, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lincoln’s Inn, Hall and Library, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>;</li>
+      <li>19 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>;</li>
+      <li>London Docks, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li>London and Westminster Bank, Lothbury, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lonsdale Square, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
+      <li>Loughborough Road housing estate, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>; <i><a href='#pl186a'>186</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Lower Regent Street, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lowther Gardens, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonLowther'></a>Lowther Lodge, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marble Arch, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>;</li>
+      <li>60 Mark Lane, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marylebone Parish Church, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonMerchant'></a></li>
+      <li>Merchant Seamen’s Orphan Asylum, Wanstead, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+      <li>Midland Bank, Leadenhall Street, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Piccadilly), <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Poultry), <a href='#Page_407'>407</a>-<a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Midland Hotel, St Pancras, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>;</li>
+      <li>Montagu House, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>;</li>
+      <li>Monument, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a>(<a href='#ch01'>1</a>)<a href='#f21' class='c025'><sup>[21]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>National Gallery, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Provincial Bank, Bishopsgate, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nelson Column, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>;</li>
+      <li>Newgate Prison, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_714'>714</span><a id='NewScotland'></a>New Scotland Yard, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>-<a href='#Page_218'>218</a>; <i><a href='#pl106a'>106</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>New Zealand Chambers, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>-<a href='#Page_213'>213</a>;</li>
+      <li>Notre-Dame-de-France, Leicester Square, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonSwan'></a>Old Swan House, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>
+        <ul>
+          <li>Chelsea Embankment, <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>; <i><a href='#pl103'>103</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><a id='LondonVictories'></a>Our Lady of Victories, Clapham, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>;</li>
+      <li>Oxford Circus, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>76 Oxford Street, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Paddington housing estate, <a href='#Page_410'>410</a>;</li>
+      <li>Paddington Station, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>; <i><a href='#pl065'>65</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>19 Park Lane, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a>;</li>
+      <li>Park Square, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Park Villages, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>;</li>
+      <li>Peter Jones store, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>;</li>
+      <li>Piccadilly Circus, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>; <i><a href='#pl030'>30</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Piccadilly Hotel, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>; <i><a href='#pl107'>107</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>40-42 Pont Street, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+      <li>Portland Place, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Prinsep house, 14 Holland Park Road, Kensington, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>;</li>
+      <li>Quadrant, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;</li>
+      <li>Queen’s Gate, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(No. 196), <a href='#Page_214'>214</a>-<a href='#Page_215'>215</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Record Office, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
+      <li>Red House, Bayswater Road, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>;</li>
+      <li>Reform Club, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>; <i><a href='#pl035a'>35</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Regent’s Park, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>, fig. <a href='#i065'>10</a>;</li>
+      <li>Regent Street, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ritz Hotel, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f208' class='c025'><sup>[208]</sup></a></li>
+      <li>Roehampton housing estate, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal College of Science, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Exchange, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Exchange Buildings, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Opera Arcade, <a href='#Page_64'>64</a>;</li>
+      <li>Russell Square, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Alban’s, Baldwin’s Gardens, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Andrew’s, Coin Street, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonAugustine'></a>St Augustine’s, Kilburn, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>; <i><a href='#pl093a'>93</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Queen’s Gate), <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><a id='LondonChad'></a></li>
+      <li>St Chad’s, Haggerston, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonDunstan'></a></li>
+      <li>17 St Dunstan’s Road, Kensington, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonFaith'></a></li>
+      <li>St Faith’s, Stoke Newington, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li>St George’s, Campden Hill, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li>St George’s Hospital, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>-<a href='#Page_67'>67</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonGiles'></a>St Giles’s, Camberwell, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li>
+      <li>St James the Less, Thorndike Street, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>; <i><a href='#pl094a'>94</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St James’s Palace, armoury, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Jude’s, Bethnal Green, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>;<a id='LondonJude'></a></li>
+      <li><a id='LondonLukes'></a>St Luke’s, Chelsea, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(West Norwood), <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>St Mark’s, Notting Dale, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonMartin'></a></li>
+      <li>St Martin’s, Gospel Oak, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Martin’s Northern Schools, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonMary'></a></li>
+      <li>St Mary’s, Ealing, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Wyndham Place), <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>St Mary Magdalen’s, Munster Square, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonMatthias'></a></li>
+      <li>St Matthias’, Stoke Newington, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Michael’s, Shoreditch, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Pancras’, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_715'>715</span>St Pancras Station, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a>-<a href='#Page_190'>190</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s, Avenue Road, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonPeters'></a></li>
+      <li>St Peter’s, Regent’s Square, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Vauxhall), <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Walworth), <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><a id='LondonSaviour'></a></li>
+      <li>St Saviour’s, Hoxton, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>; <i><a href='#pl089a'>89</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Simon Zelotes, Moore Street, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Stephen’s, Rosslyn Hill, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Thomas’s, Camden Town, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>-<a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonScience'></a>Science Museum, South Kensington, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li>
+      <li>Scotland Yard, <i>see</i> <a href='#NewScotland'>New Scotland Yard</a>;</li>
+      <li>Soane house and museum, Lincoln’s Inn Fields, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>;</li>
+      <li>Soane tomb, Old St Pancras churchyard, <a href='#Page_60'>60</a>;</li>
+      <li>South Africa House, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sun Assurance Offices, Threadneedle Street, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sussex Place, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li>Swan House, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonSwan'>Old Swan House</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonThackeray'></a>Thackeray house, Palace Green, Kensington, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>;</li>
+      <li>Thatched House Club, <a href='#Page_161'>161</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonTite'></a>Tite Street, Chelsea, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>;</li>
+      <li>Travellers’ Club, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>-<a href='#Page_73'>73</a>; <i><a href='#pl035a'>35</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>University College, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonVA'></a>Victoria and Albert Museum, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a>-<a href='#Page_164'>164</a>; <i><a href='#pl083a'>83</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(refreshment room), <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Walton House, Walton Street, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_209'>209</a>;</li>
+      <li>War Office, <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>;</li>
+      <li>Waterloo Place, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>;</li>
+      <li>50 Watling Street, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>;</li>
+      <li>West India Docks, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;</li>
+      <li>Westminster Bank, Piccadilly, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li>
+      <li>Westminster Cathedral, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a>;</li>
+      <li>Westminster Insurance Office, Strand, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>;</li>
+      <li>Westminster Palace Hotel, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li>
+      <li>Whistler’s house, <i>see</i> White House;</li>
+      <li>Whitechapel Art Gallery, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>; <i><a href='#pl134a'>134</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Whitehall project (1857), <a href='#Page_159'>159</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonWhite'></a></li>
+      <li>White house, 170 Queen’s Gate, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>; <i><a href='#pl105'>105</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>White House, 35 Tite Street, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>;</li>
+      <li>W. H. Smith building, Strand, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Williams warehouse, Little Britain, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LondonWorsh'></a></li>
+      <li>91-101 Worship Street, Finsbury, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a>;</li>
+      <li>York Gate, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>;</li>
+      <li>Zoo, gorilla house, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Penguin Pool), <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>London Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>London County Council Architect’s Office, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>; <i><a href='#pl186a'>186</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Long &amp; Kees, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Loos, Adolf, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>-<a href='#Page_355'>355</a>, fig. <a href='#i353'>43</a>; <i><a href='#pl151'>151</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl155a'>155</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Los Angeles, Banning house, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Dodge house, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>; <i><a href='#pl147a'>147</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hollyhock House, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>;</li>
+      <li>Laughlanhouse, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_716'>716</span>Lovell house, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>;</li>
+      <li>Public Library, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sturges house, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lossow, Wilhelm, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Loudon, J. C., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Louis, J.-V., <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Louis Philippe, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Louvet, L.-A., <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>-<a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Luban, chemical works, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lubetkin, Berthold, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>-<a href='#Page_382'>382</a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Tecton'>Tecton</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lucas, Colin A., <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f493' class='c025'><sup>[493]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i>  <a href='#ConnellWard'>Connell, Ward &amp; Lucas</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Luckenwalde, factory, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ludwig I, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ludwig II, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ludwigshafen, BASF building, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ludwigsschlösser, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>-<a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Luksch, Richard, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lululund (Herts.), <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lurçat, André, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Luscombe (Devon), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lusson, L.-A., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f178' class='c025'><sup>[178]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lussy, Château de, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lussy, Édouard, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lutyens, Sir Edwin L., <a href='#Page_278'>278</a>-<a href='#Page_279'>279</a>, <a href='#Page_404'>404</a>-<a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, fig. <a href='#i406'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl181'>181</a>-<a href='#pl182a'>182</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Lyons, Central Markets, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>church by Norman Shaw, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>;</li>
+      <li>États-Unis housing estate, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+      <li>Government warehouse, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LyonsHerriot'></a></li>
+      <li>Herriot Hospital, Grange Blanche, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jardin d’Hiver, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>;</li>
+      <li>Moncey Telephone Office, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LyonsSlaughter'></a></li>
+      <li>Municipal Slaughterhouse, La Mouche, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+      <li>Olympic Stadium, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais de Justice, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='LyonsTextile'></a></li>
+      <li>Textile School, La Croix Rousse, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>M</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>McArthur, John, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>McConnel, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>McKenzie, Voorhees &amp; Gmelin, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>McKim, Charles F., <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>-<a href='#Page_231'>231</a>;  <i>see also</i> <a href='#McKimMeadWhite'>McKim, Mead &amp; White</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='McKimMeadWhite'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>McKim, Mead &amp; White, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>ff., <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>-<a href='#Page_268'>268</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>-<a href='#Page_399'>399</a>, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a>, fig. <a href='#i268'>27</a>; <i><a href='#pl109a'>109</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl111'>111</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl125a'>125</a>-<a href='#Page_127'>127</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl179'>179</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mackintosh, Charles Rennie, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>-<a href='#Page_300'>300</a>; <i><a href='#pl132a'>132</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl135a'>135</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mackmurdo, A. H., <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mâcon, Saint-Vincent, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_717'>717</span>Madison (Wis.), Unitarian Church, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Madrid, Chamber of Commerce, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>National Library and Museums, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>;</li>
+      <li>Obelisk of the 2nd May, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(of La Castellana), <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Palace of the Congress, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maekawa, Kunio, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>; <i><a href='#pl187a'>187</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maginnis, Charles D., <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Magne, A.-J., <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Magne, Lucien, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maher, George B., <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maillart, Robert, <a href='#Page_313'>313</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Maisons et palais de Rome moderne</i> (Percier and Fontaine), <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maitland, Richard, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f542' class='c025'><sup>[542]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mallet-Stevens, Robert, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Malpièce, A.-J., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Manchester, Assize Courts, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Athenaeum, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>;</li>
+      <li>Free Trade Hall, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fryer &amp; Binyon warehouse, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jevons warehouse, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>;</li>
+      <li>Midland Bank, King Street, <a href='#Page_408'>408</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parker Street warehouse, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Royal Institution (Art Gallery), <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Wilfrid’s, Hulme, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>;</li>
+      <li>Schwabe Building, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>-<a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+      <li>warehouses, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Manfredi, M., <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mansard roofs, <a href='#Page_132'>132</a>-<a href='#Page_133'>133</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marchwood (Hants.), power station, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mariateguí, Francisco Javier de, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Marienburg'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marienburg, Feinhals house, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>-<a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Maria Königin, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marigny, Marquis de, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mariscal, Federico, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Markham Clinton (Notts.), church, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marney, Louis, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marquise, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marseilles, Cannebière, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Cathedral, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;</li>
+      <li>Chamber of Commerce, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exchange, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lazaret, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais Longchamps, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Porte d’Aix, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Protestant Church, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Lazare, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li>Unité d’Habitation, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>-<a href='#Page_386'>386</a>, fig. <a href='#i386'>51</a>; <i><a href='#pl166'>166</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Vieux-Port, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Martin, Sir Leslie, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Martin, Nicolas, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Martinez de Velasco, Juan, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Marylebone, <i>see</i> London</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mason City (Iowa), hotel, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mason, George D., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_718'>718</span>Mataró, La Obrera warehouse, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Matas, Niccoló, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Matthew, Robert, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maximilian II, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>May, E. J., <a href='#Page_215'>215</a>-<a href='#Page_216'>216</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>May, Ernst, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f480' class='c025'><sup>[480]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Maybeck, Bernard, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>; <i><a href='#pl146a'>146</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mazzoni, Angiolo, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mazzuchetti, Alessandro, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Medford (Mass.), Grace Episcopal Church, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>; <i><a href='#pl091a'>91</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Medling, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meduna, G. B. and Tommaso, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meier-Graefe, Julius, <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meij, J. M. van der, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a>, <a href='#Page_357'>357</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Melbourne, English, Scottish and Australian Bank, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Government House, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parliament House, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li>
+      <li>Princess Theatre, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Patrick’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>;</li>
+      <li>Treasury Buildings, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meldahl, Ferdinand, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Menai Strait, Britannia Bridge, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl061'>61</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Menai Bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>; <i><a href='#pl059'>59</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mendelsohn, Erich, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a>, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>; <i><a href='#pl153a'>153</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mengoni, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>; <i><a href='#pl075a'>75</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Menilmontant, <i>see</i> <a href='#ParisNotre'>Paris (Notre-Dame-de-la-Croix)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mentmore House (Bucks.), <a href='#Page_73'>73</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Merrill, John O., <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f499' class='c025'><sup>[499]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Merrist Wood (Surrey), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Messel, Alfred, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>, <a href='#Page_336'>336</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meuron, Auguste de, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mewès, C.-F., <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f523' class='c025'><sup>[523]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Mewes'>Mewès &amp; Davis</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Mewes'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mewès &amp; Davis, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f208' class='c025'><sup>[208]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mexico City, Calle de Niza, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Centro Urbano Presidente Juarez, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nuestra Señora de los Milagros, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palacio de Bellas Artes, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>;</li>
+      <li>Paseo de Reforma, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>;</li>
+      <li>University City, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>; <i><a href='#pl184'>184</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Meyer, Adolf, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>; <i><a href='#pl158a'>158</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Michelucci, G., <a href='#Page_382'>382</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Micklethwaite, J. T., <a href='#Page_184'>184</a>-<a href='#Page_185'>185</a>, <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Middleton (Wis.), Jacobs house, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a>, fig. <a href='#i331'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Middletown (Conn.), Alsop house, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Russell house, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Middletown (R.I.), Sturtevant house, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>; <i><a href='#pl124a'>124</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Mies'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mies van der Rohe, Ludwig, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>, <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>-<a href='#Page_376'>376</a>, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>-<a href='#Page_390'>390</a>, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>-<a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>-<a href='#Page_53'>53</a>; <i><a href='#pl162a'>162</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl165a'>165</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl170'>170</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl192'>192</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_719'>719</span>Milan,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Ca’ de Sass, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Castiglione, Casa, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a></li>
+      <li>Corso Venezia, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>;</li>
+      <li>15 Corso Vittorio Emmanuele, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>;</li>
+      <li>Forum Bonaparte, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;</li>
+      <li>Galleria de Cristoforis, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Vittorio Emmanuele), <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>-<a href='#Page_147'>147</a>; <i><a href='#pl075a'>75</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>La Scala, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lucini, Palazzo, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marino, Palazzo, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>;</li>
+      <li>Olivetti offices, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>;</li>
+      <li>Porta Venezia, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rocca-Saporiti, Palazzo, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Serbelloni, Palazzo, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tosi, Casa, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a>;</li>
+      <li>Triennale, fifth, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>;</li>
+      <li>Triumphal Arch, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;</li>
+      <li>Via Verdi, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Millais, Sir John, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mills, Robert, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>; <i><a href='#pl038a'>38</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Minneapolis (Minn.),
+    <ul>
+      <li>Christ Lutheran Church, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>; <i><a href='#pl157a'>157</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>;</li>
+      <li>Neils house, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>;</li>
+      <li>Willey house, <a href='#Page_327'>327</a>, fig. <a href='#i328'>41</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mique, Richard, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moberly, Arthur Hamilton, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f493' class='c025'><sup>[493]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Möckel, G. L., <a href='#Page_199'>199</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Modern’ architecture, <a href='#Page_307'>307</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moffatt, W. B., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_101'>101</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Molchow (Brandenburg), <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Molinos, A.-I., <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Molinos, J., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Møller, C. F., <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moller, Georg, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mondrian, Piet, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a>, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monferran, A. A., <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>-<a href='#Page_58'>58</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monkwearmouth (Co. Durham), railway station, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monnier, Joseph, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monol system, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montataire (Oise), Wallut &amp; Grange factory, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montauban (Tarn), Lycée, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mont d’Or, baths, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monte Carlo, Casino, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monterrey, Purísima, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montevideo, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Monticello (Va.), <a href='#Page_443'>443</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f89' class='c025'><sup>[89]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montluçon (Allier), Saint-Paul, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montmagny (S.-et-O.), Sainte-Thérèse, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montmartre, <i>see</i> <a href='#ParisSacre'>Paris (Sacré-Cœur)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montoyer, Louis Joseph von, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montreal, Bank of Montreal, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Notre Dame, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>;</li>
+      <li>Windsor Hotel, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>;</li>
+      <li>Windsor Station, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montreux, Villa Karma, <a href='#Page_353'>353</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Montrouge, <i>see</i> <a href='#ParisOzenfant'>Paris (Ozenfant house)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_720'>720</span>Montuori, Eugenio, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>; <i><a href='#pl183a'>183</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mora, Enrique de la, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moral, Enrique del, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moreau, Karl von, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moreira, Jorge, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Morey, M.-P., <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Morris, William, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mortier, A.-F., <i><a href='#pl075a'>75</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moscow, Cathedral of the Redeemer, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Centrosoyus, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace of the Soviets, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f479' class='c025'><sup>[479]</sup></a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moseley Brothers, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moser, Karl, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moser, Kolo, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moulins (Allier), Saint-Nicholas, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mount Desert (Maine), house by Emerson, <a href='#Page_266'>266</a>, fig. <a href='#i266'>26</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moutier, A.-J., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moya, Hidalgo, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Moya, Juvenal, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mueller, Paul, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mulhouse, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mullet, A. B., <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>; <i><a href='#pl082a'>82</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Munch, Edvard, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mundie, William Bryce, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Jenney'>Jenney &amp; Mundie</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Munich, Blindeninstitut, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Bonifazius Basilika, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cemetery, East, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;</li>
+      <li>Court Church, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>Elvira, Studio, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>;</li>
+      <li>Feldherrenhalle, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Glaspalast, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
+      <li>Glyptothek, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>-<a href='#Page_24'>24</a>; <i><a href='#pl009a'>9</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hauptpostamt, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Herzog Max Palais, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Karolinenplatz, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Königsbau, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>Königsplatz, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>-<a href='#Page_24'>24</a>;</li>
+      <li>Library, State, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>; <i><a href='#pl010a'>10</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Ludwigskirche, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>; <i><a href='#pl010a'>10</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Ludwigstrasse, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>-<a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mariahilfkirche, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>;</li>
+      <li>Maximilianstrasse, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Max Joseph Stift, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Theatre, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Odeonsplatz, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace of Justice, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pinakothek, Ältere, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>Propylaeon, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rathaus, <a href='#Page_199'>199</a>;</li>
+      <li>Redeemer, Church of the, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ruhmeshalle, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>;</li>
+      <li>Siegestor, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Technical High School extension, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>;</li>
+      <li>Törring, Palais, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>University, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>; (extension), <a href='#Page_343'>343</a>;</li>
+      <li>War Office, <a href='#Page_26'>26</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wittelsbach, Palais, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Munstead Wood (Surrey), <a href='#Page_278'>278</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Murat, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Murat, Caroline, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mussolini, Benito, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_721'>721</span>Muthesius, Hermann, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Muuratsälo, Aalto’s house, <i><a href='#pl182a'>182</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Mylne, Robert, xxi</li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>N</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Naissant, Claude, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nancy (M.-et-M.), Saint-Epvre, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nantes (Loire-Inf.), Bourse, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Cathedral square, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hospice Général, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>; <i><a href='#pl020'>20</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Passage Pommeraye, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Nicolas, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theatre, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>-<a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tribunal de Commerce, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Naples, Galleria Umberto I, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Royal Palace, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>;</li>
+      <li>San Carlo Opera House, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl023a'>23</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>San Francesco di Paola, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Napoleon I, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Napoleon III, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>-<a href='#Page_134'>134</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Napoléonville, <i>see</i> Pontivy</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nash, John, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>ff., <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, fig. <a href='#i065'>10</a>; <i><a href='#pl030'>30</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl032'>32</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl048'>48</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl050a'>50</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl058a'>58</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nashdom (Bucks.), <a href='#Page_404'>404</a>-<a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nashville (Tenn.), Belle Meade, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Maxwell House, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tennessee State Capitol, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Natchez (Miss.), Longwood, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>plantation houses, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>National Provincial Bank branches, <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nénot, P.-H., <a href='#Page_373'>373</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Neo-Brutalism’, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Neo-Liberty’, <a href='#Page_412'>412</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neoplasticists, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nervi, Pierluigi, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f400' class='c025'><sup>[400]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f504' class='c025'><sup>[504]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nesfield, William A., <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nesfield, W. Eden, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a>-<a href='#Page_183'>183</a>, <a href='#Page_207'>207</a>-<a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Neubabelsberg'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neubabelsberg, Einstein Tower, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>; <i><a href='#pl153a'>153</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Urbig house, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neuchâtel, Lunatic Asylum, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Neuere kirchliche Baukunst in England</i> (Muthesius), <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Neue Sachlichkeit</i>, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a>-<a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neuilly, <i>see</i> <a href='#ParisFerdinand'>Paris (Saint-Ferdinand</a>, <a href='#ParisJean'>Saint-Jean-Baptiste</a>)</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neuschwanstein, Schloss, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a>-<a href='#Page_155'>155</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neutra, Richard J., <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch19'>19</a>)<a href='#f413' class='c025'><sup>[413]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Neu-Ulm, Suabian War Memorial Church, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Bedford (Mass.), Rotch house, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newburgh (N.Y.), Reeve house, <a href='#Page_457'>457</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f340' class='c025'><sup>[340]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_722'>722</span>New Canaan (Conn.), Philip Johnson’s house, <a href='#Page_424'>424</a>; <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newcastle-on-Tyne, Grey Street, <a href='#Page_70'>70</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Delhi, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a>; <i><a href='#pl181'>181</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Earswick (Yorks.), model village, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Haven (Conn.),
+    <ul>
+      <li>Connecticut State Capitol (former), <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>;</li>
+      <li>Stiles and Morse Colleges, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>; <i><a href='#pl185a'>185</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Yale University, Battell Chapel, <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f243' class='c025'><sup>[243]</sup></a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Divinity School), <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Durfee Hall) <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f243' class='c025'><sup>[243]</sup></a>;</li>
+          <li>(Dwight Chapel), <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f243' class='c025'><sup>[243]</sup></a>;</li>
+          <li>(Farnam Hall), <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>; <i><a href='#pl096a'>96</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(Harkness Quadrangle), <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Kensington (Penna.), housing development, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New London (Conn.), Custom House, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newman, Robert, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New Orleans, St Charles Hotel, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newport (R.I.), Andrews house, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Atlantic House, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bell house, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, fig. <a href='#i268'>27</a>; <i><a href='#pl126'>126</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Elmhyrst, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>; <i><a href='#pl042a'>42</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Griswold house, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kingscote, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a>;</li>
+      <li>Library, Free, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ocean House (first), <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(second), <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Parish house, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sherman house, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>;</li>
+      <li>Taylor house, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>;</li>
+      <li>Willoughby house, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newton, Dudley, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>; <i><a href='#pl124a'>124</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newton, Ernest, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a>, <a href='#Page_407'>407</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Newtown (Tasmania) Congregational Church, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘New Towns’, <a href='#Page_413'>413</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>New York, American Radiator Building, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>American Surety Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li>
+      <li>Astor House, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Astor Library, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;</li>
+      <li>Barclay-Vesey (N.Y. Telephone) Building, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bogardus factory, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>;</li>
+      <li>472-82 Broadway, <a href='#Page_456'>456</a>(<a href='#ch14'>14</a>)<a href='#f306' class='c025'><sup>[306]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Charity Hospital, Blackwell’s Island, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>;<a id='NYCharity'></a></li>
+      <li>Colonnade Row, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>; <i><a href='#pl042a'>42</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Columbia University, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>;</li>
+      <li>Condict Building, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>;</li>
+      <li>Corn Exchange Bank, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crystal Palace, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
+      <li>Daily News Building, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>;</li>
+      <li>De Vinne Press, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>;</li>
+      <li>Empire State Building, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>;</li>
+      <li>Equitable Building, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fifth Avenue Hotel, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fifth Avenue, terrace by Lienau, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>; (No. 998), <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_723'>723</span>Goelet Building, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grace Church, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grand Central Station, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl177a'>177</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Guggenheim Museum, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; <i><a href='#pl188a'>188</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Harper’s Building, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>;</li>
+      <li>Haughwout store, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>;</li>
+      <li>Havemeyer Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li>
+      <li>I.R.T. Power Station, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Knickerbocker Trust, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Laing Stores, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>; <i><a href='#pl067a'>67</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Lenox Library, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lever House, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; <i><a href='#pl189'>189</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Merchants’ Exchange, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Metropolitan Tower, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>;</li>
+      <li>Milhau store, 183 Broadway, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>;</li>
+      <li>Municipal Building, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Academy, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pennsylvania Station, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Prison, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pulitzer Building, <i>see</i> <a href='#NYPulitzer'>World Building</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rockefeller Center, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>;</li>
+      <li>St James Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Patrick’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Vincent Ferrer, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;</li>
+      <li>Seagram Building, <a href='#Page_389'>389</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>; <i><a href='#pl192'>192</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Shelton Hotel, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>-<a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;</li>
+      <li>Shiff house, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>;</li>
+      <li>Singer Building, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='NYStewart'></a></li>
+      <li>Stewart (Wanamaker) store, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>;</li>
+      <li>Stuyvesant flats, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tiffany Building, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tiffany house, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tribune Building, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trinity Church, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>; <i><a href='#pl053a'>53</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Tower Building, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>;</li>
+      <li>United Nations Secretariat, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>;</li>
+      <li>University Club, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>; <i><a href='#pl179'>179</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Vanderbilt house, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Villard houses, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>; <i><a href='#pl109a'>109</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Wanamaker store, <i>see</i> <a href='#NYStewart'>Stewart store</a>;</li>
+      <li>Washington Square, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>;</li>
+      <li>Western Union Building, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_240'>240</a>; <i><a href='#pl115a'>115</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Woolworth Building, <a href='#Page_250'>250</a>, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>-<a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl178'>178</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='NYPulitzer'></a></li>
+      <li>World (Pulitzer) Building, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Niagara Falls (N.Y.), suspension bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>; <i><a href='#pl060a'>60</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Niccolini, Antonio, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>; <i><a href='#pl023a'>23</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nice, Observatory, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Sainte-Jeanne-d’Arc, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch20'>20</a>)<a href='#f427' class='c025'><sup>[427]</sup></a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nicholas I, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Niemeyer, Oscar, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>, <a href='#Page_424'>424</a>-<a href='#Page_425'>425</a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Niermans, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nîmes (Gard), Maison Carrée, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Saint-Paul, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nizzoli, M., <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nobile, Peter von, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Noguchi, Isamu, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_724'>724</span>Noisiel (S.-et-M.), Menier factory, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Noordwijkerhout, De Vonk, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Northampton (Mass.), Bowers House, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>-<a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Northampton (Northants.) New Ways, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>North Easton (Mass.), Ames Gate Lodge, <a href='#Page_224'>224</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Norwalk (Ohio), Wooster-Boalt house, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Notman, John, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>; <i><a href='#pl046'>46</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nottingham, St Barnabas’, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Novara, San Gaudenzio, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f200' class='c025'><sup>[200]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nüll, Eduard van der, <i>see</i> <a href='#Null'>Van der Nüll, Eduard</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Nyrop, Martin, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>; <i><a href='#pl173a'>173</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>O</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oak Alley (Louisiana), <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='OakP'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oak Park (Ill.) Cheney house, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>F. Ll. Wright’s own house, 428 Forest Avenue, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gale house, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>;</li>
+      <li>Heurtley house, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>;</li>
+      <li>Unity Church, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>; <i><a href='#pl143a'>143</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Odense, Raadhus, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>O’Donnell, James, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Offenburg, Burda-Moden Building, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>O’Gorman, Juan, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ohlmüller, J. D., <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>-<a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Olbrich, J. M., <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>-<a href='#Page_338'>338</a>, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oldenburg, Exhibition (1904), <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Olmsted, F. L., <a href='#Page_224'>224</a>, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a>-<a href='#Page_231'>231</a>, fig. <a href='#i231'>20</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Omaha (Nebraska), New York Life Insurance Co., <a href='#Page_244'>244</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oporto, Maria Pia Bridge, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oppenhausen, Goedecke house, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ordish, R. M., <a href='#Page_188'>188</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Orléans, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Protestant Temple, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Orly (Seine), aircraft hanger, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Osborne House (I.o.W.), <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>O’Shea brothers, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oslo, American Embassy, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>University, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Östberg, Ragnar, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>-<a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>-<a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl174a'>174</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ostrowo, Hunting Lodge, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Othmarschen, low-cost housing, <a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Otis, Elisha G., <a href='#Page_239'>239</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ottawa, Parliament House, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Otterlo, Kröller-Müller Museum, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_725'>725</span>Oud, J. J. P., <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a>-<a href='#Page_736'>736</a>, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a>-<a href='#Page_378'>378</a>, <a href='#Page_390'>390</a>-<a href='#Page_391'>391</a>; <i><a href='#pl163a'>163</a>-<a href='#pl164a'>164</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Outshoorn, Cornelius, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>-<a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Overstrand Hall (Norfolk), <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Owatonna (Minn.), National Farmers’ Bank, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Owen, Robert Dale, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Owings, Nathaniel, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f499' class='c025'><sup>[499]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Oxford,
+    <ul>
+      <li>Balliol College, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exeter College chapel, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+      <li>Keble College, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>-<a href='#Page_187'>187</a>;</li>
+      <li>Martyrs’ Memorial, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;</li>
+      <li>Meadow Buildings, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>;</li>
+      <li>Midland Station, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Philip and St James, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>;</li>
+      <li>Union Debating Hall, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>;</li>
+      <li>University Museum, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>; <i><a href='#pl086a'>86</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ozenfant, Amédée, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>P</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paddington, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Padua, Caffè Pedrocchi, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>; <i><a href='#pl023a'>23</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Il Pedrocchino, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paestum, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pagot, F.-N., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paimio, sanatorium, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paine, Thomas, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Palladio, Andrea, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Palma de Mallorca, Cathedral, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Palmer, Potter, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Palo Alto (Cal.), Hanna house, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pampulha, São Francisco, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>; <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Pan</i>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Panama, El Panamá Hotel, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pani, Mario, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#PaniMoral'>Pani &amp; del Moral</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='PaniMoral'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pani &amp; del Moral, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pankok, Bernard, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Papworth, J. B., <i><a href='#pl122a'>122</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paris, Arc du Carrousel, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>(de Triomphe de l’Étoile), <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>; <i><a href='#pl007'>7</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>67 Avenue Malakoff, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>;</li>
+      <li>(Niel, No. 83), <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>;</li>
+      <li>(Nungesser et Coli, No. 24), <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>;</li>
+      <li>(de l’Opéra), <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li>
+      <li>(de Wagram, No. 119), <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>; <i><a href='#pl134a'>134</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Barracks, Rue Mouffetard, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+      <li><i>barrières</i>, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>-<a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>;</li>
+      <li>Barrière de Saint-Martin, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>; <i><a href='#pl001'>1</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Bastille Column, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bazar de l’Industrie, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;</li>
+      <li>de Beistegui flat, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bibliothèque Nationale, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>; <i><a href='#pl069'>69</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Sainte-Geneviève), <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>, fig. <a href='#i125'>14</a>; <i><a href='#pl021'>21</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Bon Marché, Rue de Sèvres, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bourse, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>; <i><a href='#pl008a'>8</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Brasserie Universelle, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>;</li>
+      <li>Castel Béranger, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_726'>726</span><a id='ParisCastel'></a></li>
+      <li>‘Castel’, Passy, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cercle de la Librairie, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>;</li>
+      <li>Champs Élysées, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
+      <li>Chapelle Expiatoire, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>; <i><a href='#pl018a'>18</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><a id='ParisFerdinand'></a></li>
+      <li>Chapelle Saint-Ferdinand, Neuilly, <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>;</li>
+      <li>Châtelet, theatres, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cirque des Champs Élysées (d’Été), <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(d’Hiver), <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Cité Seurat, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>;</li>
+      <li>Cité Universitaire, Swiss Hostel, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>; <i><a href='#pl165a'>165</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Collège de France, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>-<a href='#Page_47'>47</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Sainte-Barbe), <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Colonne de la Grande Armée, <a href='#Page_9'>9</a>-<a href='#Page_10'>10</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(de Juillet), <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Concert Hall, Rue Cardinet, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>;</li>
+      <li>Crédit National Hôtelier, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a>;</li>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li>École des Beaux-Arts, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>; <i><a href='#pl072a'>72</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(de Médecine), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Normale Supérieure), <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Polytechnique), <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Eiffel Tower, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>-<a href='#Page_283'>283</a>; <i><a href='#pl130a'>130</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Esders factory, <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition (1855), <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(1867), Galerie des Machines, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li>
+          <li>(1889), Eiffel Tower, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>-<a href='#Page_283'>283</a>; <i><a href='#pl130a'>130</a></i>,
+            <ul>
+              <li>(Palais des Machines), <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>;</li>
+            </ul>
+          </li>
+          <li>(1900), <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>-<a href='#Page_294'>294</a>, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>-<a href='#Page_296'>296</a>, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>;</li>
+          <li>des Arts Décoratifs (1925), Austrian pavilion, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>,
+            <ul>
+              <li>(Pavillon de l’Esprit Nouveau), <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>;</li>
+            </ul>
+          </li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Fontaine Molière, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f179' class='c025'><sup>[179]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Fould, Hôtel, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>;</li>
+      <li>Garage Ponthieu, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>; <i><a href='#pl139a'>139</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Galeries du Commerce et de l’Industrie, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>; <i><a href='#pl062a'>62</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Galerie d’Orléans, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;</li>
+      <li>Garde Meuble, <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='Gare'></a></li>
+      <li>Gare de l’Est, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(de Lyon), <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>-<a href='#Page_136'>136</a>;</li>
+          <li>(du Métropolitain), <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>; <i><a href='#pl137a'>137</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(Montparnasse), <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>;</li>
+          <li>(du Nord), <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>;</li>
+          <li>(d’Orsay), <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>; <i><a href='#pl183a'>183</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Grand Bazar de la Rue de Rennes, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>;</li>
+      <li>Grand Palais, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>-<a href='#Page_294'>294</a>;</li>
+      <li>Halle au Blé, roof, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hôtel de Ville, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>; <i><a href='#pl022a'>22</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hôtel-Dieu, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Humbert de Romans building, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>;</li>
+      <li>Invalides, Napoleon’s tomb, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jardin d’Hiver, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jeanneret house, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>;</li>
+      <li>La Roche house, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>;</li>
+      <li>Louvre, Grand Galerie, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(New Louvre), <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>-<a href='#Page_135'>135</a>; <i><a href='#pl068'>68</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Lycées Buffon, Molière, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
+      <li>Luxembourg Palace, Peers’ Chamber, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Orangerie: Museum), <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Madeleine, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>-<a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mairie du Louvre, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>-<a href='#Page_137'>137</a>;</li>
+      <li>‘Maison de François I’, <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>;</li>
+      <li>Maison de l’Art Nouveau, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>;</li>
+      <li><i>maisons de rapport</i>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marché des Carmes, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_727'>727</span>(St Germain), <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de la Madeleine), <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
+          <li>(St Martin), <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Markets, Central, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li>
+      <li>Maxim’s, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>;</li>
+      <li>Métro entrances, <i>see</i> <a href='#Gare'>Gare du Métropolitain</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='Finance'></a></li>
+      <li>Ministry of Finance, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(of Foreign Affairs), <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;</li>
+          <li>(of Marine), <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>; <i><a href='#pl140a'>140</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Musée des Travaux-Publics, <a href='#Page_316'>316</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='ParisNotre'></a></li>
+      <li>Notre-Dame, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(chapter house), <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Rue d’Auteuil, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>-<a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(de-Bonne-Nouvelle), <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de-la-Croix, Menilmontant), <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Lorette), <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>; <i><a href='#pl018a'>18</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Opéra, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>-<a href='#Page_138'>138</a>, fig. <a href='#i139'>15</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a>-<a href='#Page_71'>71</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Orloffhouse, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='ParisOzenfant'></a></li>
+      <li>Ozenfant house, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais de Bois, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais Bourbon, Salle des Cinq Cents, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_51'>51</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palais de Justice, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>;</li>
+      <li>Panorama Français, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='Pantheon'></a></li>
+      <li>Panthéon (Sainte-Geneviève), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>;  <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>;</li>
+      <li>Père Lachaise, Duc de Morny’s tomb, <a href='#Page_452'>452</a>(<a href='#ch11'>11</a>)<a href='#f254' class='c025'><sup>[254]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Pereire, Hôtel, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>;</li>
+      <li>Petite Roquette prison, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>;</li>
+      <li>Place de la Bourse, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>; <i><a href='#pl008a'>8</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Charles X), <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de la Concorde), <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de l’Étoile), <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_135'>135</a>; <i><a href='#pl007'>7</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(de l’Opéra), <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>; <i><a href='#pl070a'>70</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(de la Porte de Passy, No. 9), <a href='#Page_315'>315</a>; <i><a href='#pl139a'>139</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(des Pyramides), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Saint-Georges), <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Pont du Carrousel, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
+      <li>Post Office, General, <i>see</i> <a href='#Finance'>Ministry of Finance</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pourtalès, Hôtel de, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>;</li>
+      <li>Printemps store, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>;</li>
+      <li>Prison de la Nouvelle Force, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>;</li>
+      <li>Quai d’Orsay, Foreign Ministry, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rotonde des Panoramas, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f64' class='c025'><sup>[64]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Rue des Amiraux, flats, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(de Castiglione), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>-<a href='#Page_9'>9</a>;</li>
+          <li>(des Colonnes), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Condorcet, flats), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Douai, flats), <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>;  <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>; <i><a href='#pl101a'>101</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(Franklin, No. 25 bis), <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>, fig. <a href='#i311'>36</a>;</li>
+          <li>(La Fontaine, Nos <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>-<a href='#Page_21'>21</a>), <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Liège, flats), <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>; <i><a href='#pl056'>56</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(Mallet-Stevens), <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Milan), <i><a href='#pl075a'>75</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(des Pyramides), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>;</li>
+          <li><a id='Raynouard'></a></li>
+          <li>(Raynouard, Nos 51-55a), <a href='#Page_316'>316</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de Rivoli), <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>; <i><a href='#pl006a'>6</a></i>;</li>
+          <li>(de Sévigné, school), <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Vaneau, No 14), <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>-<a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_133'>133</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Vavin), <a href='#Page_318'>318</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><a id='ParisSacre'></a></li>
+      <li>Sacré-Cœur, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Ambroise, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Augustin, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sainte-Clotilde, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>; <i><a href='#pl055a'>55</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Denis-du-Saint-Sacrament, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Eugène, <a href='#Page_128'>128</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-François-Xavier, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sainte-Geneviève, <i>see</i> <a href='#Pantheon'>Panthéon</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_728'>728</span><a id='SaintJacques'></a></li>
+      <li>Saint-Jacques-Saint-Christophe, La Villette, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Jean-de-Belleville, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Jean-de-Montmartre, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>;</li>
+      <li><a id='ParisJean'></a>Saint-Jean-Baptiste, Neuilly, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sainte-Marie-des-Batignolles, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Phillippe-du-Roule, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Pierre-du-Gros-Caillou, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Pierre-de-Montrouge, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>; <i><a href='#pl072a'>72</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Vincent-de-Paul, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>; <i><a href='#pl019'>19</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Salm, Hôtel de, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
+      <li>Salvation Army building, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>;</li>
+      <li>Samaritaine store, <a href='#Page_295'>295</a>; <i><a href='#pl133'>133</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Santé Prison, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
+      <li>Séminaire Saint-Sulpice, <a href='#Page_43'>43</a>;</li>
+      <li>Société Marseillaise de Crédit, Rue Auber, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sorbonne, <a href='#Page_373'>373</a>;</li>
+      <li>Synagogue, Rue Notre-Dame-de-Nazareth, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>;</li>
+      <li>Théâtre des Champs Élysées, <a href='#Page_310'>310</a>-<a href='#Page_312'>312</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Français), <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li>
+          <li>(de l’Odéon), <a href='#Page_11'>11</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Tribunal de Commerce, <a href='#Page_140'>140</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trinité, La, <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>;</li>
+      <li>Trocadéro, Palais du, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f360' class='c025'><sup>[360]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Troyon house, <a href='#Page_459'>459</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f373' class='c025'><sup>[373]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Tzara house, <a href='#Page_355'>355</a>;</li>
+      <li>Unesco Building, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vaudeville theatre, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parker, Charles, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parker, Richard Barry, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parker &amp; Unwin, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parnell, C. Octavius, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parris, Alexander, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>-<a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>; <i><a href='#pl043a'>43</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl112a'>112</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Parsonages, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Tudor, <a href='#Page_255'>255</a>-<a href='#Page_256'>256</a>, fig. <a href='#i255'>21</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Partnerships, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pasadena (Cal.) Blacker house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Gamble house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>; <i><a href='#pl147a'>147</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Millard house, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>-<a href='#Page_327'>327</a>, fig. <a href='#i327'>40</a>; <i><a href='#pl144'>144</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Pitcairn house, <a href='#Page_333'>333</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pascal, J.-L., <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f514' class='c025'><sup>[514]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pascual y Coloner, Narciso, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Passy, <i>see</i> <a href='#ParisCastel'>Paris (‘Castel’)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Patte, Pierre, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f14' class='c025'><sup>[14]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paul, Bruno, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Paxton, Sir Joseph, <a href='#Page_73'>73</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>-<a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>-<a href='#Page_126'>126</a>; <i><a href='#pl064'>64</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Payerbach, Kuhner house, <a href='#Page_355'>355</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peabody &amp; Stearns, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>-<a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f104' class='c025'><sup>[104]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peacock, Joseph, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pearson, F. L., <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pearson, J. L., <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a>, <a href='#Page_190'>190</a>; <i><a href='#pl093a'>93</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peckforton Castle (Salop), <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pedralbes, <i>see</i> <a href='#GuellFinca'>Barcelona (Güell, Finca)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_729'>729</span>Pedregulho, <i>see</i> <a href='#Riode'>Rio de Janeiro</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pei, I. M., <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pellechet, A.-J., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pellechet, J.-A.-F.-A., <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>; <i><a href='#pl076a'>76</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Penarth (Glam.), St Augustine’s, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Penchaud, M.-R., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pennethorne, Sir James, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Penrhyn Castle (Carnarvonsh.), <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f108' class='c025'><sup>[108]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Penshurst Place (Kent), <a href='#Page_454'>454</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f262' class='c025'><sup>[262]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Penzing'></a>Penzing, hospital, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>28 Hüttelbergstrasse, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>;</li>
+      <li>Steinhof Asylum, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Percier, Charles, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>-<a href='#Page_9'>9</a>, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a>, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f152' class='c025'><sup>[152]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl006a'>6</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perego, Giovanni, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perez Palacios, Augusto, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Périgueux (Dordogne), Saint-Front, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perkins, Wheeler &amp; Will, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perret, Auguste, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a>, <a href='#Page_308'>308</a>ff., <a href='#Page_372'>372</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>-<a href='#Page_37'>37</a>; <i><a href='#pl134a'>134</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl139a'>139</a>-<a href='#pl141'>141</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perret, Gustave, <a href='#Page_308'>308</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perry &amp; Reed, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Perrycroft (Worcs.), <a href='#Page_276'>276</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Persius, Ludwig, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>; <i><a href='#pl015'>15</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pertsch, Matthäus, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pessac (Gironde), housing estate, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Petersburg'></a>Petersburg, Academy of Mines, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Admiralty, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
+      <li>Alexander Column, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Alexandra Theatre, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bourse, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>; <i><a href='#pl008a'>8</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Cathedral of the Redeemer, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a>;</li>
+      <li>German Embassy, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>General Staff Arches, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hermitage Museum, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kazan Cathedral, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>;</li>
+      <li>Marble Palace, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Isaac’s Cathedral, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>-<a href='#Page_8'>8</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Senate and Synod, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;</li>
+      <li>Triumphal Gate, <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Petersen, Carl, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Petersen, Vilhelm, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a>, fig. <a href='#i156b'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peto, Harold A., <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Petrópolis, Summer Palace, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pevsner, Antoine, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peyre, A.-M., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Peyre, M.-J., <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pfau, Bernhard, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Philadelphia, Atheneum, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>; <i><a href='#pl046'>46</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Bank of Pennsylvania, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(of the United States), <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>-<a href='#Page_84'>84</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Broad Street Station, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>;</li>
+      <li>Chestnut Street, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>;</li>
+      <li>Eastern State Penitentiary, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a>, fig. <a href='#i079'>11</a>;</li>
+      <li>Girard College, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>-<a href='#Page_83'>83</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_730'>730</span>Girard Trust, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jackson Building, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jayne Building, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
+      <li>Leland Building, <a href='#Page_237'>237</a>;</li>
+      <li>Masonic Hall, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>;</li>
+      <li>Merchants’ Exchange, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>; <i><a href='#pl040'>40</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pennsylvania Museum of Art, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>Philadelphia Savings Fund Society Building, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>; <i><a href='#pl169'>169</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Provident Institution, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>-<a href='#Page_195'>195</a>; <i><a href='#pl095a'>95</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>St Stephen’s, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sansom Street Baptist Church, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>;</li>
+      <li>Waterworks, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Philippon, P.-F.-N., <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Phillips, Henry, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Phoenix'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Phoenix (Ariz.), Pauson house, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Taliesin West, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a>;</li>
+      <li>David Wright house, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piacentini, Marcello, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piacentini, Pio, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pichl, Luigi, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piel, L.-A., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Picturesque mode, <a href='#Page_xxvii'>xxvii</a>, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_93'>93</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piermarini, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pierrefonds, Château de, (Oise), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pierrepoint (Surrey), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pierron, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pilar, S.I.T. Spinning Shed, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pilkington, Frederick T., <a href='#Page_201'>201</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Pilotis</i>, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>, <a href='#Page_369'>369</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pimlico, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonPimlico'>London (Churchill Gardens)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pinch, John, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pineau, Nicholas, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piranesi, Francesco, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Piranesi, G. B., <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a>, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pitt, William, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pittsburgh (Penna.), Alcoa Building, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>-<a href='#Page_416'>416</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Allegheny County Buildings, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>; <i><a href='#pl108a'>108</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>cable bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>;</li>
+      <li>Golden Triangle, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jail, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>;</li>
+      <li>Park Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pittsfield (Mass.), Post Office, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pius VII, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pizzala, Andrea, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Plan-factories’, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Plano (Ill.), Farnsworth house, <a href='#Page_389'>389</a>, fig. <a href='#i390'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Platt, Charles A., <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Playfair, W. H., <a href='#Page_71'>71</a>; <i><a href='#pl034a'>34</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pleasantville (N.Y.), Friedman house, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a>; <i><a href='#pl145a'>145</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Plumet, Charles, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poelaert, Joseph, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>; <i><a href='#pl081'>81</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poelzig, Hans, <a href='#Page_344'>344</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poggi, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_731'>731</span>‘Point-blocks’, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poissy (S.-et-O.), Savoye house, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>-<a href='#Page_371'>371</a>, fig. <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>; <i><a href='#pl159'>159</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poletti, Luigi, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Polk, Willis, <a href='#Page_465'>465</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f451' class='c025'><sup>[451]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pollák, Michael, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pollet (Seine-Inf.), church, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pollini, Gino, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#FiginiPollini'>Figini &amp; Pollini</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Polonceau, A.-R., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Polychromy, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pompeii, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pompon, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pontivy (Ctes-du-Nord), Préfecture, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Palace of Justice, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ponente da Silva, Domingos, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pope, John Russell, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pope, R. S., <a href='#Page_87'>87</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Popp, Alexander, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Porden, William, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Port Chester (N.Y.), Synagogue, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Portinari, Cándido, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Portland (Ore.), Equitable Building, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>houses by Yeon, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Possagno, Tempio Canoviano, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Post, George B., <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>; <i><a href='#pl115a'>115</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Potain, M.-M., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Potsdam, Charlottenhof, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Court Gardener’s house, <a href='#Page_34'>34</a>; <i><a href='#pl014a'>14</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Friedenskirche, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>; <i><a href='#pl015'>15</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Nikolaikirche, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Orangerieschloss, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Pheasantry, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a>;</li>
+      <li>Schloss Glienecke, <a href='#Page_33'>33</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theatre, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>;</li>
+      <li>Zivilcasino, <a href='#Page_30'>30</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Potter, Edward T., <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Potter, William A., <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pottsville (Penna.), Miners’ Bank, <a href='#Page_447'>447</a>(<a href='#ch07'>7</a>)<a href='#f171' class='c025'><sup>[171]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Powell, A. J. Philip, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Powell &amp; Moya, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Poyet, Bernard, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_8'>8</a>, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pozzuoli, Olivetti factory, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Prairie houses’, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>, <a href='#Page_274'>274</a>, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Précis des leçons</i> (Durand), <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a>-<a href='#Page_22'>22</a>, figs. <a href='#i021'>2</a>-<a href='#i024'>3</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Preen Manor (Salop), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Prefabrication, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pre-Raphaelites, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Price, Bruce, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_244'>244</a>-<a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>-<a href='#Page_270'>270</a>, fig. <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>; <i><a href='#pl125a'>125</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Price, Uvedale, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>-<a href='#Page_4'>4</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Prichard, John, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Prima parte di architettura</i> (Piranesi), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Primitivism in architecture, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch17'>17</a>)<a href='#f155' class='c025'><sup>[155]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_732'>732</span>Princeton (N.J.), Graduate College, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a>; <i><a href='#pl177a'>177</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Prinsep, Val, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pritchard, Thomas Farnolls, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pritchett, Charles, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pritchett, James P., <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Prix de Rome projects, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Promis, Carlo, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Providence (R.I.), Providence Arcade, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Tulley-Bowen house, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;</li>
+      <li>Union Station, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>; <i><a href='#pl044'>44</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Washington Buildings, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>; <i><a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Westminster Presbyterian Church, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Prussian National Theatre, project by Gilly, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>; <i><a href='#pl009a'>9</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pueblo (Colorado), Opera House Building, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pugin, A. C., <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pugin, A. W. N., <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_97'>97</a>, <a href='#Page_98'>98</a>ff., <a href='#Page_257'>257</a>; <i><a href='#pl052a'>52</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pugin, E. W., <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Purcell, William G., <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Purcell'></a>Purcell &amp; Elmslie, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a>, <a href='#Page_332'>332</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Purisme’, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Purkersdorf'></a>Purkersdorf, convalescent home, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Putney, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London (Ackroydon estate)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Puvis de Chavannes, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Pyrford Common (Surrey), Little Court, <a href='#Page_277'>277</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>Q</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Quar Wood (Glos.), <a href='#Page_177'>177</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Quatremère de Quincy, Antoine, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f9' class='c025'><sup>[9]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Queen Anne Revival, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>, <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Questel, C.-A., <a href='#Page_109'>109</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Quincy (Mass.), ‘Church of the Presidents’, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Crane Library, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>-<a href='#Page_224'>224</a>; <i><a href='#pl110'>110</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Quincy granite, <a href='#Page_78'>78</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Quintana Simonetti, Antonio, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>R</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Racine (Wis.) Hardy house, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>-<a href='#Page_323'>323</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>S. C. Johnson Building, <a href='#Page_328'>328</a>-<a href='#Page_329'>329</a>, <a href='#Page_331'>331</a>; <i><a href='#pl146a'>146</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Wingspread, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Raffaelli, R., <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Railton, William, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Railway stations, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Raleigh (N. C.), Asylum, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>-<a href='#Page_87'>87</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>North Carolina State Capitol, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ramée, Daniel, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_733'>733</span>Ramée, J.-J., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ramsgate (Kent), St Augustine’s, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>-<a href='#Page_100'>100</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>The Grange, <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>-<a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rangoon, pharmaceutical plant, <a href='#Page_420'>420</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ransome, Ernest L., <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rapson, Ralph, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f500' class='c025'><sup>[500]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rapson &amp; Van de Gracht, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Raschdorf, Julius, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>; <i><a href='#pl077a'>77</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ray, R. L., <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Raymond, J.-A., <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reading (Berks.), Gaol, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rebelo, J. M. J., <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>; <i><a href='#pl046'>46</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Recife, Santa Isabel Theatre, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>-<a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Recueil (Séheult), <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>-<a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reed, Charles A., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reed, Joseph, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reed &amp; Stem, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl177a'>177</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Regensburg, <i>see</i> <a href='#Walhalla'>Walhalla</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reidy, Affonso Eduardo, <a href='#Page_421'>421</a>-<a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reijers, Z., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reilly, Sir Charles Herbert, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reinhardt, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Renaud, Édouard, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Renié, A.-M., <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rennes (Ille-et-V.), Cathedral, <a href='#Page_440'>440</a>(<a href='#ch01'>1</a>)<a href='#f30' class='c025'><sup>[30]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rennie, Sir John, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Renwick, James, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>-<a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Repton, Humphry, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Repulles y Vargas, E. M., <a href='#Page_166'>166</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Revett, Nicholas, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Reynolds-Stephens, Sir William, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rezasco, G. B., <a href='#Page_54'>54</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rhind, David, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rhinebeck (N.Y.), Delamater house, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ribbon-windows, <a href='#Page_466'>466</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f466' class='c025'><sup>[466]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Richardson, C. J., <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Richardson, H. H., <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>, <a href='#Page_168'>168</a>, <a href='#Page_170'>170</a>, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>-<a href='#Page_193'>193</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>, <a href='#Page_221'>221</a>ff., <a href='#Page_238'>238</a>-<a href='#Page_239'>239</a>, <a href='#Page_242'>242</a>-<a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_264'>264</a>-<a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a>, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl091a'>91</a></i>; <i><a href='#pl108a'>108</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl110'>110</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl116a'>116</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl124a'>124</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Richfield Springs (N.Y.), McCormick house, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_268'>268</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Richmond (Va.), Monumental Church, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Virginia State Capitol, <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rickman, Thomas, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>-<a href='#Page_118'>118</a>; <i><a href='#pl050a'>50</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Riedel, Eduard, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Riehl'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Riehl, Sankt Engelbert, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Riemerschmid, Richard, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rietveld, Gerrit, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a>, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a>, <a href='#Page_465'>465</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f461' class='c025'><sup>[461]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl164a'>164</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_734'>734</span>Riga, A.E.G. plant, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rinaldi, Antonio, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Riode'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rio de Janeiro, Custom House, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Imperial Academy of Fine Arts, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>;</li>
+      <li>Itamaratí Palace, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>; <i><a href='#pl046'>46</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Market, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ministry of Education and Public Health, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_385'>385</a>; <i><a href='#pl171'>171</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Pedregulho housing estate, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>;</li>
+      <li>Santos Dumont Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>;</li>
+      <li>University City, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a>;</li>
+      <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Gavea'>Gávea</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rivera, Diego, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='RiverForest'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>River Forest (Ill.), River Forest Golf Club, <a href='#Page_273'>273</a>; <i><a href='#pl128a'>128</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>River Forest Tennis Club, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f347' class='c025'><sup>[347]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Roberts house, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a>;</li>
+      <li>Williams house, <a href='#Page_458'>458</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f346' class='c025'><sup>[346]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Winslow house, <a href='#Page_271'>271</a>-<a href='#Page_272'>272</a>; <i><a href='#pl128a'>128</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Riverside'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Riverside (Ill.), Coonley house, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a>-<a href='#Page_324'>324</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Coonley playhouse, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Robert, Hubert, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roberto brothers, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roberts, Henry, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_340'>340</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Robertson, John, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Robinson, P. F., <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_457'>457</a>(<a href='#ch15'>15</a>)<a href='#f325' class='c025'><sup>[325]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Robson, E. R., <a href='#Page_212'>212</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rocco, Emmanuele, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roche, Martin, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Holabird'>Holabird &amp; Roche</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roebling, John, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>; <i><a href='#pl060a'>60</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roebling, Washington A., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roehampton, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rogers, Isaiah, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_87'>87</a>-<a href='#Page_88'>88</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a>, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f93' class='c025'><sup>[93]</sup></a>,  fig. <a href='#i087'>13</a>; <i><a href='#pl041'>41</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rogers, James Gamble, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rohault de Fleury, Charles, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>, <a href='#Page_137'>137</a>, <a href='#Page_448'>448</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f187' class='c025'><sup>[187]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rome, Academy of St Luke, <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>All Saints’ English Church, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>;</li>
+      <li>American Academy, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>;</li>
+      <li>Banca d’Italia, Via Nazionale, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;</li>
+      <li>Caffè Inglese, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>;</li>
+      <li>Esedra, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>; <i><a href='#pl076a'>76</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Ministry of Finance, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
+      <li>Museo Pio-Clementino, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palazzo delle Belle Arti, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Boncampagni), <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;</li>
+          <li>(di Giustizia), <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Piazza del Popolo, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Paul’s American Church, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>-<a href='#Page_201'>201</a>; <i><a href='#pl100'>100</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>San Pantaleone, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;</li>
+      <li>San Paolo fuori-le-mura, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>;</li>
+      <li>Teatro Argentina, <a href='#Page_54'>54</a>;</li>
+      <li>Termini Station, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>; <i><a href='#pl183a'>183</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Vatican, Braccio Nuovo, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>; <i><a href='#pl024'>24</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Via Nazionale, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Venti Settembre), <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Victor Emanuel II Monument, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Romein T. A. <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_735'>735</span>Ronchamp (Hte-Saône), Notre-Dame-du-Haut, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_386'>386</a>-<a href='#Page_367'>367</a>; <i><a href='#pl167'>167</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rondelet, J.-B., <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_20'>20</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roosenburg, Dirk, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Root, J. W., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Burnam1'>Burnham &amp; Root</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rosen, Anton, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rosendal, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rosner, Karl, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ross, William, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f99' class='c025'><sup>[99]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rossetti, D. G., <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rossi, K. I., <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rotival, Maurice, <a href='#Page_413'>413</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rottenburg, church, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rotterdam, Bijenkorf store, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Café de Unie, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a>;</li>
+      <li>Erasmus Huis, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a>, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a>;</li>
+      <li>Esveha offices, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kiefhoek housing estate, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>; <i><a href='#pl164a'>164</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Lijnbaan, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Oud Mathenesse housing estate, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a>;</li>
+      <li>Spangen housing estate, <a href='#Page_366'>366</a>-<a href='#Page_367'>367</a>;</li>
+      <li>Tuschendijken housing estate, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>;</li>
+      <li>van Nelle factory, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>; <i><a href='#pl163a'>163</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rouen (Seine-Inf.), Cathedral, flèche, <a href='#Page_120'>120</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Custom House, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a>;</li>
+      <li>Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Ouen, <a href='#Page_108'>108</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rousseau, Pierre, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roussel, K.-X., <a href='#Page_312'>312</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Roux-Spitz, Michel, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f407' class='c025'><sup>[407]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rubelli, Mario, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rubio, Manuel A., <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ruckmans (Surrey), <a href='#Page_404'>404</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rude, François, <a href='#Page_10'>10</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rudolph, Paul, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Rugby (War.), Rugby School, <a href='#Page_187'>187</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ruines des plus beaux monuments de la Grèce</i> (Leroy), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ruins of Palmyra</i> (Wood), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Rundbogenstil</i>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ruskin, John, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>-<a href='#Page_107'>107</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>S</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saarinen, Eero, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a>-<a href='#Page_423'>423</a>, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>,  <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f545' class='c025'><sup>[545]</sup></a>, fig. <a href='#i419'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl157a'>157</a></i>,  <i><a href='#pl168a'>168</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl185a'>185</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl190a'>190</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saarinen, Eliel, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>-<a href='#Page_361'>361</a>, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>; <i><a href='#pl157a'>157</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saavedra, Gustavo, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sacconi, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sada, Carlo, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saelzer, A., <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saffron Walden (Essex), Barclays Bank, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_736'>736</span><i>Saggio sopra l’architettura</i> (Algarotti), <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saint-Cloud (S.-et-O.), <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St-Cyr, houses by Garnier, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St-Denis (Seine), Abbaye, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>72 Rue Charles Michel, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Denys-de-l’Estrée, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>; <i><a href='#pl098'>98</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saintenoy, Paul, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saint-Fart, Eustache, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St Gaudens, Augustus, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saint-Germain-en-Laye (S.-et-O.), church, <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St John’s (Newfoundland), cathedral, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St Louis (Miss.), Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Jewish community centre, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>;</li>
+      <li>St Louis Trust and Savings Bank, <a href='#Page_247'>247</a>;</li>
+      <li>Union Methodist Church, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>;</li>
+      <li>Wainwright Building, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>; <i><a href='#pl118'>118</a></i></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>St-Malo (Ille-et-V.), Municipal Casino, <a href='#Page_309'>309</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St-Maurice (Seine), Charenton Lunatic Asylum, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St Paul (Minn.), Jewish community centre, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St Paulzo (Nièvre), Château de St Martin, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St Petersburg, <i>see</i> <a href='#Petersburg'>Petersburg</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>St-Rambert (Drôme), houses by Gamier, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sakrow, Heilandskirche, <a href='#Page_35'>35</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salem (Mass.), First Unitarian (North) Church, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>; <i><a href='#pl055a'>55</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Peter’s, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salford (Lancs.), Salford Twist Company’s Mill, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Philip’s, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salinas Moro, Raúl, <a href='#Page_419'>419</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salt, Sir Titus, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salt Lake City (Utah), Z.C.M.I. store, <a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saltaire (Yorks.), <a href='#Page_126'>126</a>-<a href='#Page_127'>127</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Salvin, Anthony, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Santa Coloma de Cervelló, church by Gaudí, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch17'>17</a>)<a href='#f392' class='c025'><sup>[392]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sundahl, C., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>San Diego (Cal.), Exhibition (1915), <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>First Church of Christ Scientist, <a href='#Page_334'>334</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sandrié, P.-J., <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>-<a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sandwich (Kent), Salutation, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>San Francisco, Exhibition (1915), <a href='#Page_333'>333</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Hallidie Building, <a href='#Page_465'>465</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f451' class='c025'><sup>[451]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Maimonides Hospital, <a href='#Page_387'>387</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mint, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>;</li>
+      <li>Morris shop, <a href='#Page_330'>330</a>-<a href='#Page_331'>331</a>;</li>
+      <li>Municipal Buildings, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_737'>737</span>Sang, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>San Juan (Porto Rico), Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sankt Johann, Obenauer house, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sanquirico, Alessandro, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Santamaria, G., <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sant’ Elia, Antonio, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f495' class='c025'><sup>[495]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Santiago (Chile), <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>São Paulo, Airport, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Biennal (1957), <a href='#Page_417'>417</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bratke house, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a>, fig. <a href='#i425'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Edificio C.B.I., <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sargent, John Singer, <a href='#Page_230'>230</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Saulnier, Jules, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sauvage, Henri, <a href='#Page_318'>318</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Savage, James, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Savannah (Georgia), Hermitage, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Säynatsälo, Municipal Buildings, <i><a href='#pl173a'>173</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scarborough (Yorks.), Grand Hotel, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>; <i><a href='#pl079'>79</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>St Martin’s-on-the-Cliff, <a href='#Page_184'>184</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scarisbrick Hall (Lancs.), <a href='#Page_99'>99</a>, <a href='#Page_257'>257</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scharoun, Hans, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schenectady, Union College, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_191'>191</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scheveningen, Leuring house, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Oranje Hotel, <a href='#Page_158'>158</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schimkowitz, Othmar, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schinkel, K. F. von, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>ff, <a href='#Page_41'>41</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_5'>5</a>-<a href='#Page_7'>7</a>; <i><a href='#pl012'>12</a>-<a href='#pl014a'>14</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schmidt, Friedrich von, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>; <i><a href='#pl099a'>99</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schmidt, Richard E., <a href='#Page_462'>462</a>(<a href='#ch19'>19</a>)<a href='#f415' class='c025'><sup>[415]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schmieden, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schmitz, Bruno, <a href='#Page_463'>463</a>(<a href='#ch21'>21</a>)<a href='#f436' class='c025'><sup>[436]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schneck, Adolf, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f488' class='c025'><sup>[488]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schocken Department Stores, <a href='#Page_379'>379</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scholer, F. E., <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schouko, V. A., <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch22'>22</a>)<a href='#f479' class='c025'><sup>[479]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schulze, Paul, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schumacher, Fritz, <a href='#Page_341'>341</a>-<a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schwanthaler, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schwarz, Rudolf, <a href='#Page_345'>345</a>, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schwechten, Franz, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Schwerin, Schloss, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scott, Edmund, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>; <i><a href='#pl093a'>93</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scott, Sir George Gilbert, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>, <a href='#Page_181'>181</a>-<a href='#Page_182'>182</a>, <a href='#Page_302'>302</a>; <i><a href='#pl052a'>52</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl090'>90</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scott, H. G. D., <a href='#Page_164'>164</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scott, M. H. B., <i>see</i> <a href='#Baillie'>Baillie Scott</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scott, Sir Walter, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scottish Baronial mode, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Scully, Vincent, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sears, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sedding, J. D., <a href='#Page_406'>406</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Seddon, J. P., <a href='#Page_187'>187</a>; <i><a href='#pl091a'>91</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_738'>738</span>Sedgley (Penna.), <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sédille, Paul, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a>, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Séguin, Marc, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Séheult, F.-L., <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>-<a href='#Page_110'>110</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Seitz, Franz von, <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Selmersheim, Tony, <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Selva, Giannantonio, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f69' class='c025'><sup>[69]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Semper, Gottfried, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a>, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>,  fig. <a href='#i037'>8</a>; <i><a href='#pl073a'>73</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Semper, Manfred, <a href='#Page_153'>153</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sérinet, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Seurat, Georges, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Seven Lamps of Architecture</i> (Ruskin), <a href='#Page_107'>107</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sezincote (Glos.), <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shaw, John, <a href='#Page_208'>208</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shaw, R. Norman, <a href='#Page_183'>183</a>, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>ff., <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, figs. <a href='#Page_19'>19</a>, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>; <i><a href='#pl094a'>94</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl102a'>102</a>-<a href='#pl102a'>107</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl123'>123</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shepley, Rutan &amp; Coolidge, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>;  <i>see also</i> <a href='#Coolidge'>Coolidge, Shepley, Bulfinch &amp; Abbott</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Shingle Style’, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='ShreveLamb'></a>Shreve, Lamb &amp; Harmon, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shrewsbury (Salop), Benyons, Marshall &amp; Bage Mill, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>, <a href='#Page_233'>233</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shrubland (Norfolk), <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Shryock, Gideon, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Siccardsburg, August Siccard von, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sidmouth (Devon), Knowles, Royal Glen, Woodlands Hotels, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Siemensstadt housing estate, <i>see</i> <a href='#Berlin'>Berlin</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Silsbee, J. Lyman, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Silveyra, Jacob, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>-<a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Silverend (Essex), Le Chateau, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f533' class='c025'><sup>[533]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Simone, Antonio de, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>; <i><a href='#pl025'>25</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Simonetti, Michelangelo, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Skelton (Yorks.), church, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Skidmore, Louis, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f499' class='c025'><sup>[499]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Skidmore, Owings &amp; Merrill, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_403'>403</a>, <a href='#Page_415'>415</a>, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>; <i><a href='#pl189'>189</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Skyscrapers, <a href='#Page_239'>239</a>ff., <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f541' class='c025'><sup>[541]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Slater, J. Alan, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f492' class='c025'><sup>[492]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sloan, Samuel, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <a href='#Page_446'>446</a>(<a href='#ch06'>6</a>)<a href='#f136' class='c025'><sup>[136]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smeaton Manor (Yorks.), <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>; <i><a href='#pl102a'>102</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smirke, Sir Robert, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_442'>442</a>(<a href='#ch03'>3</a>)<a href='#f67' class='c025'><sup>[67]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl033'>33</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smirke, Sydney, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>-<a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, Alfred, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, George, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, John, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, J. K., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f513' class='c025'><sup>[513]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, W. J., <a href='#Page_74'>74</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Smith, William, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_739'>739</span>Soane, Sir John, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a>-<a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_44'>44</a>, <a href='#Page_59'>59</a>-<a href='#Page_60'>60</a>, <a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a>; <i><a href='#pl003'>3</a>-<a href='#Page_4'>4</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl006a'>6</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl028a'>28</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Solis, G. M., <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sommaruga, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sonne, Jørgen, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sordo Madaleno, Juan, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a>, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sørenson, C. T., <a href='#Page_415'>415</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Soufflot, François, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Soufflot, J.-G., <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a>; <i><a href='#pl002a'>2</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Spalatro, <a href='#Page_439'>439</a>(<a href='#intro'>int.</a>)<a href='#f7' class='c025'><sup>[7]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Speeth, Peter, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>; <i><a href='#pl017a'>17</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Spiers, R. Phéné, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sprenger, Paul, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Springfield (Mass.), Hampden County Courthouse, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>house by Eidlitz, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>;</li>
+      <li>North Congregational Church, <a href='#Page_222'>222</a>;</li>
+      <li>Stebbins house, <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>; <i><a href='#pl043a'>43</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Unity Church, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>;</li>
+      <li>Western Railway Office, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Spring Green (Wis.), Hillside Home School, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a>, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Taliesin, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a>-<a href='#Page_325'>325</a>, <a href='#Page_327'>327</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Staal, J. F., <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f508' class='c025'><sup>[508]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stam, Mart, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stanhope, Spencer, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Starkey &amp; Cuffley, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stasov, V. P., <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Steel, use of, <a href='#Page_115'>115</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stegmann, Povl, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Steindl, Imre, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Steiner, Rudolf, <a href='#Page_364'>364</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stem, Allen H., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stent, F. W., <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stent &amp; Laver, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stephenson, George, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stephenson, Robert, <a href='#Page_68'>68</a>, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a>, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>-<a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl061'>61</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl063'>63</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stern, Raffaelle, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a>; <i><a href='#pl024'>24</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stevenson, J. J., <a href='#Page_212'>212</a>, <a href='#Page_215'>215</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Stick Style’, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a>-<a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Stijl</i>, <i>see</i> <a href='#Stijl'><i>De Stijl</i></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Stile Liberty</i>, <a href='#Page_284'>284</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stirling &amp; Gowan, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stjarnsund, house by Sundahl, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stockholm, American Embassy, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Bern’s Restaurant, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>Central Library, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>; <i><a href='#pl176a'>176</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Concert Hall, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>;</li>
+      <li>Engelbrekt Church, <a href='#Page_360'>360</a>, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>;</li>
+      <li>Exhibition (1930), <a href='#Page_381'>381</a>;</li>
+      <li>Högalid Church, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>;</li>
+      <li>Jernkontovets Building, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Bank, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>National Museum, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Northern Museum, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parliament House, <a href='#Page_157'>157</a>;</li>
+      <li>Skandia Cinema, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a>;</li>
+      <li>Skandias Building, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Skeppsholm Church, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_740'>740</span>Sodra Theatre, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Town Hall, <a href='#Page_395'>395</a>, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>-<a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl174a'>174</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>University of Architecture and Engineering, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stoke Newington, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonFaith'>London  (St Faith’s,</a> <a href='#LondonMatthias'>St Matthias’s</a>)</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stoke-on-Trent (Staffs.), Trentham Park, <a href='#Page_75'>75</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stokes, Leonard A. S., <a href='#Page_407'>407</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stone, Edward D., <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stonehouse (Devon), Royal Navy Victualling Yard, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Stones of Venice</i> (Ruskin), <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stotz, J.-G., <a href='#Page_45'>45</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Strack, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Streatham, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonChrist'>London (Christ Church)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Street, A. E., <a href='#Page_451'>451</a>(<a href='#ch10'>10</a>)<a href='#f227' class='c025'><sup>[227]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Street, G. E., <a href='#Page_100'>100</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_186'>186</a>, <a href='#Page_200'>200</a>-<a href='#Page_201'>201</a>; <i><a href='#pl094a'>94</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl100'>100</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Strickland, William, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_83'>83</a>-<a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a>; <i><a href='#pl040'>40</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Strutt, William, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stuart, James, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a>, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>, <a href='#Page_77'>77</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Studer, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, <a href='#Page_52'>52</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Studio</i>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Studio-houses, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Studley Royal (Yorks.), church, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stulberger, F. P., <a href='#Page_154'>154</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stüler, F. A., <a href='#Page_32'>32</a>, <a href='#Page_37'>37</a>, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a>, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>; <i><a href='#pl057a'>57</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sturbridge (Mass.), Levi Lincoln house, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sturgis, John H., <a href='#Page_229'>229</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sturgis, Julian, <a href='#Page_276'>276</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sturgis, Russell, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>; <i><a href='#pl096a'>96</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stürzenacker, August, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Stuttgart, Art Gallery, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Baugewerkschule, <a href='#Page_152'>152</a>-<a href='#Page_153'>153</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hospital, <a href='#Page_467'>467</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f488' class='c025'><sup>[488]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Königsbau, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>; <i><a href='#pl152'>152</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Werkbund Exhibition, Weissenhof (1927), (Behrens), <a href='#Page_346'>346</a>; <i><a href='#pl162a'>162</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Gropius), <a href='#Page_374'>374</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Le Corbusier), <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Mies), <a href='#Page_375'>375</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Oud), <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>;</li>
+          <li>Zeppelinbau, <a href='#Page_347'>347</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Style Louis XVI</i>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a>-<a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sullingstead (Surrey), <a href='#Page_404'>404</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sullivan, Louis H., <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a>-<a href='#Page_197'>197</a>, <a href='#Page_241'>241</a>-<a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_245'>245</a>, <a href='#Page_246'>246</a>, <a href='#Page_248'>248</a>-<a href='#Page_249'>249</a>; <i><a href='#pl117a'>117</a>-<a href='#pl121'>121</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sumner, Heywood, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a>, <a href='#Page_459'>459</a>(<a href='#ch16'>16</a>)<a href='#f376' class='c025'><sup>[376]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sun-breaks, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sundahl, C. F., <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sweet Briar College (Va.), <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Swiss Chalet mode, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_113'>113</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sunderland (Durham), bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_741'>741</span>Süssenguth, Georg, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Suys, L.-P., <a href='#Page_164'>164</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Suys, T. F., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Swampscott (Mass.), Shingleside, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sydney, Campbell house, <a href='#Page_91'>91</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Government House stables, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sykes, Godfrey, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Sykes, Henry A., <a href='#Page_90'>90</a>; <i><a href='#pl043a'>43</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Symbolism, <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>T</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>TAC, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>, <a href='#Page_402'>402</a>, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f524' class='c025'><sup>[524]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl168a'>168</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tacoma (Wash.), railway station, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tait, Thomas S., <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f526' class='c025'><sup>[526]</sup></a>, <a href='#f533' class='c025'><sup>[533]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Taliesin, <i>see</i> <a href='#Phoenix'>Phoenix, Spring Green</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Talman, William, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tange, Kenzo, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a>; <i><a href='#pl187a'>187</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tarrytown (N.Y.), Ericstan, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Taylor, Sir Robert, <a href='#Page_1'>1</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Tecton'></a>Tecton, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_470'>470</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f524' class='c025'><sup>[524]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tefft, Thomas A., <a href='#Page_89'>89</a>; <i><a href='#pl044'>44</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Telford, Thomas, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a>; <i><a href='#pl058a'>58</a>-<a href='#pl059'>59</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tengbom, Ivar, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a>, <a href='#Page_398'>398</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Terragni, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>; <i><a href='#pl172a'>172</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Terza Roma</i>, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tessenow, Heinrich, <a href='#Page_339'>339</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Teulon, S. S., <a href='#Page_175'>175</a>, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a>, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a>, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tewkesbury (Glos.), bridge, <a href='#Page_118'>118</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thackeray, William M., <a href='#Page_208'>208</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Theale (Berks.), Holy Trinity, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>The Hague, Academy of Fine Arts, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>American Embassy, <a href='#Page_383'>383</a>, <a href='#Page_388'>388</a>;</li>
+      <li>Bijenkorf store, <a href='#Page_358'>358</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kröller house, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a>-<a href='#Page_366'>366</a>;</li>
+      <li>Nederlandsche Bank, <a href='#Page_42'>42</a>;</li>
+      <li>Netherlands Insurance Company Building, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>;</li>
+      <li>Passage, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f204' class='c025'><sup>[204]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Shell Building, <a href='#Page_390'>390</a>;</li>
+      <li>Vrijzinnige Christelijk Lyceum, <a href='#Page_391'>391</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thicknesse, P. C., <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thiersch, Friedrich von, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a>-<a href='#Page_343'>343</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomas, A.-F.-T., <a href='#Page_294'>294</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomon, Thomas de, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>; <i><a href='#pl008a'>8</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thompson, Francis, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a>, <a href='#Page_95'>95</a>, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl061'>61</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl063'>63</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomson, Alexander, <a href='#Page_61'>61</a>-<a href='#Page_62'>62</a>, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a>; <i><a href='#pl029'>29</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl035a'>35</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomson, Edward, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a>; <i><a href='#pl176a'>176</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomson, James, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>; <i><a href='#pl032'>32</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thomson, Samuel, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f99' class='c025'><sup>[99]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_742'>742</span>Thornton, William, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>; <i><a href='#pl082a'>82</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Thorwaldsen, Bertil, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a>, <a href='#Page_23'>23</a>, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tiffany, Louis C., <a href='#Page_287'>287</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tigbourne Court (Surrey), <a href='#Page_279'>279</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tite, Sir William, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tobey, S. Edwin, <a href='#Page_229'>229</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tokyo, Imperial Hotel, <a href='#Page_326'>326</a>, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Metropolitan Festival Hall, <i><a href='#pl187a'>187</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Museum of Modern Art, <a href='#Page_435'>435</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tombstone (Ariz.), Crystal Palace Saloon, <a href='#Page_92'>92</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tomes, Sir John, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ton, K. A., <a href='#Page_58'>58</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Toorak, St John Evangelist’s, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Toorop, Jan, <a href='#Page_286'>286</a>, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Toronto (Ont.), City Hall, <a href='#Page_225'>225</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Trinity College, old building, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>;</li>
+      <li>University College, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a>-<a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Torquay (Devon), St John’s, <a href='#Page_180'>180</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Torro, Osvaldo Luis, <a href='#Page_471'>471</a>(<a href='#ch25'>25</a>)<a href='#f543' class='c025'><sup>[543]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Torro, Ferrer &amp; Torregrossa, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Torroja, Eduardo, <a href='#Page_433'>433</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>, <a href='#Page_461'>461</a>(<a href='#ch18'>18</a>)<a href='#f400' class='c025'><sup>[400]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tortworth Court (Glos.), <a href='#Page_175'>175</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Totsuka Country Club, <i><a href='#pl187a'>187</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tournon, bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tours, Hôtel de Ville, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Palais de Justice, <a href='#Page_50'>50</a>;</li>
+      <li>Railway Station, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a>;</li>
+      <li>Saint-Martin, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Town1'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Town, Ithiel, <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#Town2'>Town &amp; Davis</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Town2'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Town &amp; Davis, <a href='#Page_84'>84</a>, <a href='#Page_88'>88</a>; <i><a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Townsend, C. Harrison, <a href='#Page_292'>292</a>-<a href='#Page_293'>293</a>; <i><a href='#pl134a'>134</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Tracés régulateurs</i>, <a href='#Page_371'>371</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Traditional’ architecture, <a href='#Page_392'>392</a>ff.</li>
+  <li class='c040'>Trevista, fig. <a href='#i278'>33</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Trieste, Palazzo Carciotti, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Sant’ Antonio di Padova, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Teatro Verdi, <a href='#Page_57'>57</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Trollope, <a href='#Page_450'>450</a>(<a href='#ch09'>9</a>)<a href='#f209' class='c025'><sup>[209]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Troy (N.Y.), railway station, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Troyes system, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Trumbauer, Horace, <a href='#Page_7'>7</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Truro (Cornwall), cathedral, <a href='#Page_189'>189</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tully, Kivas, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tulsa (Okla.), Jones house, <a href='#Page_327'>327</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tunbridge Wells (Kent), Calverley Estate, <a href='#Page_72'>72</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Turin, Corso Vittorio Emmanuele II, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Exhibition (1902), <a href='#Page_300'>300</a>, <a href='#Page_338'>338</a>;</li>
+      <li>Gran Madre di Dio, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Mole Antonelliana, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f200' class='c025'><sup>[200]</sup></a>;</li>
+      <li>Piazza Carlo Felice, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(dello Statuto), <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
+          <li>(Vittorio Veneto), <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>; <i><a href='#pl026a'>26</a></i>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Porta Nuova Railway   Station, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>, <a href='#Page_145'>145</a>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_743'>743</span>Sacramentine, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>San Massimo, <a href='#Page_55'>55</a>-<a href='#Page_56'>56</a>;</li>
+      <li>Via Roma, <a href='#Page_409'>409</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Turku, Turun Sanomat Building, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Turner, Richard, <a href='#Page_121'>121</a>, <a href='#Page_125'>125</a>; <i><a href='#pl067a'>67</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tuxedo Park (N.Y.), Lorillard and other houses, <a href='#Page_228'>228</a>, <a href='#Page_269'>269</a>-<a href='#Page_270'>270</a>,  fig. <a href='#i270'>28</a>; <i><a href='#pl125a'>125</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tvede, Gotfred, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Tyringham (Bucks.), <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>; <i><a href='#pl006a'>6</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>U</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Uccle, Van de Velde’s house, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Uchard, T.-F.-J., <a href='#Page_141'>141</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Udine Exhibition (1903), <a href='#Page_301'>301</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ulm, Garrison Church, <a href='#Page_342'>342</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Unwin, Sir Raymond, <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Upjohn, Richard, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>-<a href='#Page_104'>104</a>; <i><a href='#pl053a'>53</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Upjohn, Richard M., <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Uppsala, Botanical Institute, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Haga Slott, <a href='#Page_16'>16</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Urban, Josef, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch17'>17</a>)<a href='#f387' class='c025'><sup>[387]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Urbanisme</i> (Le Corbusier), <a href='#Page_370'>370</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Usonian’, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Utica (N.Y.), Asylum, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>; <i><a href='#pl047a'>47</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>City Hall, <a href='#Page_103'>103</a>; <i><a href='#pl053a'>53</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Munn house, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Utrecht, Schroeder house, <a href='#Page_377'>377</a>; <i><a href='#pl164a'>164</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>V</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Valadier, Giuseppe, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>, <a href='#Page_53'>53</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vållingby, Garden City, <a href='#Page_413'>413</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van Brunt, Henry, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#WareVan'>Ware &amp; Van Brunt</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van Brunt &amp; Howe, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van de Velde, Henri, <a href='#Page_291'>291</a>, <a href='#Page_293'>293</a>, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>, <a href='#Page_311'>311</a>, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Null'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van der Nüll, Eduard, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van der Nüll and Siccardsburg, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van der Rohe, <i>see</i> <a href='#Mies'>Mies van der Rohe</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van Eyck, Aldo, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van Gogh, Vincent, <a href='#Page_281'>281</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Van Osdel, J. M., <a href='#Page_171'>171</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vantini, Rodolfo, <a href='#Page_56'>56</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vantongerloo, Georges, <a href='#Page_363'>363</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vanvitelli, Luigi, <a href='#Page_13'>13</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Västeros, ASEA Building, <a href='#Page_396'>396</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vaucresson (S.-et-O.), 49 Avenue du Chesnay, <a href='#Page_384'>384</a>-<a href='#Page_385'>385</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>early house by Le Corbusier, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a>, fig. <a href='#i371'>46</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vaudoyer, A.-L.-T., <a href='#Page_xxvi'>xxvi</a>, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_744'>744</span>Vaudoyer, Léon, <a href='#Page_143'>143</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vaudremer, J.-A.-E., <a href='#Page_142'>142</a>; <i><a href='#pl072a'>72</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vauthier, L.-L., <a href='#Page_91'>91</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vaux, Calvert, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vegas Pacheco, Martín, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Venice, La Fenice, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Piazza S. Marco, <a href='#Page_14'>14</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Verandas, <a href='#Page_254'>254</a>, <a href='#Page_256'>256</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Ver Sacrum</i>, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Versailles (S.-et-O.), <a href='#Page_13'>13</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Chalet aux Loges, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>;</li>
+      <li>Hameau, Petit Trianon, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>;</li>
+      <li>Mouron house, <a href='#Page_314'>314</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Vers une architecture</i> (Le Corbusier), <a href='#Page_368'>368</a>, <a href='#Page_370'>370</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vestier, N.-A.-J., <a href='#Page_8'>8</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Veugny, M.-G., <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vézelay (S.-et-L.), <a href='#Page_197'>197</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vicenza, Villa Rotonda, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Viel, J.-M.-V., <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vienna, Academisches Gymnasium, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Academy of Fine Arts, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>;</li>
+      <li>Albertina, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Army Museum, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>;</li>
+      <li>Arsenal, <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>;</li>
+      <li>Artaria Building, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li>
+      <li>Austro-Hungarian Bank (earlier), <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(later), <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Bodenkreditanstalt, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li>
+      <li>Britannia Hotel, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Burgtheater, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>; <i><a href='#pl073a'>73</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Burgtor, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Café Capua, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(Museum), <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li>Dianabad, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>; <i><a href='#pl066a'>66</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Diet of Lower Austria, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Donau Hotel, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Epstein, Palais, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Felix-Mottlstrasse, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li>
+      <li>Fünfhaus Parish Church, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>; <i><a href='#pl099a'>99</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Goldman shop, <a href='#Page_352'>352</a>;</li>
+      <li>Goldman &amp; Salatsch Building, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a>;</li>
+      <li>Heinrichshof, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>; <i><a href='#pl073a'>73</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Hofburg Palace, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li>
+      <li>5-7 Invalidenstrasse, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li>
+      <li>Justizpalast, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Karlsplatzstation, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>;</li>
+      <li>Kärntner Bar, <a href='#Page_354'>354</a>; <i><a href='#pl151'>151</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Landeshauptmannschaft, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Langer flat, <a href='#Page_353'>353</a>; <i><a href='#pl155a'>155</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Lazaristenkirche, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>low-cost housing, <a href='#Page_346'>346</a>;</li>
+      <li>Majolika Haus, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>; <i><a href='#pl138a'>138</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Mint, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Museum of Art History, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;
+        <ul>
+          <li>(of Natural History), <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+      <li><i>Musikvereinsgebäude, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>;  <a href='#Page_40'>40</a>;</i></li>
+      <li>Neustiftsgasse, <a href='#Page_350'>350</a>;</li>
+      <li>North Railway Station, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>opera house, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>; <i><a href='#pl074'>74</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>8 Operngasse, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palace of Archduke Eugene, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Palffy, Palais, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Parliament House, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>, <a href='#Page_149'>149</a>;</li>
+      <li>Philipphof, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a>;</li>
+      <li>Portois &amp; Fix offices, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>;</li>
+      <li>Postal Savings Bank, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>; <i><a href='#pl154a'>154</a></i>;</li>
+      <li><span class='pageno' id='Page_745'>745</span>Rasumofsky, Palais, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rathaus, <a href='#Page_150'>150</a>;</li>
+      <li>Reichstrasse, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Ringstrasse, <a href='#Page_147'>147</a>; <i><a href='#pl074'>74</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Rufer house, <a href='#Page_355'>355</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sacher’s Hotel, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Schottenhof, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Severinkirche, <a href='#Page_198'>198</a>;</li>
+      <li>Sezession art gallery, <a href='#Page_297'>297</a>;</li>
+      <li>South Railway Station, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Synagogue, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theater an der Wien, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>;</li>
+      <li>Theseus Temple, <a href='#Page_39'>39</a>;</li>
+      <li>University, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>;</li>
+      <li>Urania, <a href='#Page_351'>351</a>;</li>
+      <li>Votivkirche, <a href='#Page_112'>112</a>, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a>; <i><a href='#pl099a'>99</a></i>;
+        <ul>
+          <li><i>see also</i> <a href='#Hietzing'>Hietzing</a>, <a href='#Penzing'>Penzing</a>, <a href='#Purkersdorf'>Purkersdorf</a></li>
+        </ul>
+      </li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Viganò, <a href='#Page_429'>429</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vignon, Pierre, <a href='#Page_11'>11</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Viipuri, city library, <a href='#Page_381'>381</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vilamajó, Julio, <a href='#Page_416'>416</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Villanueva, Carlos Raúl, <a href='#Page_414'>414</a>, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f199' class='c025'><sup>[199]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Villar i Carmona, Francesc de Paula del, <a href='#Page_202'>202</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>‘Ville Idéale de Chaux’, <a href='#Page_xxiv'>xxiv</a>, <a href='#Page_xxv'>xxv</a>; <i><a href='#pl001'>1</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Villejuif (Seine), school, <a href='#Page_372'>372</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vincennes (Seine), parish church, <a href='#Page_46'>46</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Viollet-le-Duc, E.-E., <a href='#Page_108'>108</a>, <a href='#Page_109'>109</a>, <a href='#Page_129'>129</a>, <a href='#Page_136'>136</a>, <a href='#Page_141'>141</a>, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>, <a href='#Page_197'>197</a>-<a href='#Page_198'>198</a>, <a href='#Page_283'>283</a>-<a href='#Page_284'>284</a>, <a href='#Page_449'>449</a>(<a href='#ch08'>8</a>)<a href='#f194' class='c025'><sup>[194]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl056'>56</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl098'>98</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl101a'>101</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Virginia City (Nevada), <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Visconti, L.-T.-J., <a href='#Page_47'>47</a>, <a href='#Page_48'>48</a>, <a href='#Page_49'>49</a>, <a href='#Page_110'>110</a>, <a href='#Page_134'>134</a>; <i><a href='#pl027a'>27</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl068'>68</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vittel, Casino and Baths, <a href='#Page_138'>138</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Vlugt, L. C. van der, <a href='#Page_378'>378</a>; <i><a href='#pl163a'>163</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Voigtel, Richard, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Voit, August von, <a href='#Page_25'>25</a>, <a href='#Page_126'>126</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Von Ledoux bis Le Corbusier</i> (Kaufmann), <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Voronikhin, Nikiforovich, <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Voysey, C. F. A., <a href='#Page_275'>275</a>-<a href='#Page_277'>277</a>, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a>, <a href='#Page_282'>282</a>, <a href='#Page_453'>453</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f261' class='c025'><sup>[261]</sup></a>,  fig. <a href='#i277'>32</a>; <i><a href='#pl129a'>129</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>W</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Waddesdon Manor (Bucks.), <a href='#Page_163'>163</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Waesemann, H. F., <a href='#Page_152'>152</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wagner, Otto, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_296'>296</a>-<a href='#Page_729'>729</a>, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a>-<a href='#Page_351'>351</a>; <i><a href='#pl138a'>138</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl154a'>154</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wahlman, L. I., <a href='#Page_360'>360</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wailly, Charles de, <a href='#Page_12'>12</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wakefield (Yorks.), Town Hall, <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Walhalla'></a>Walhalla, <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Walker, John, <a href='#Page_122'>122</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Walker, Ralph, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>, <a href='#Page_401'>401</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wallot, Paul, <a href='#Page_156'>156</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Walter, Thomas U., <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>-<a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch14'>14</a>)<a href='#f302' class='c025'><sup>[302]</sup></a>; <i><a href='#pl039a'>39</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl082a'>82</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_746'>746</span>Walters, Edward, <a href='#Page_76'>76</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Waltham (Essex), Abbey, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Walton, George, <a href='#Page_279'>279</a>, <a href='#Page_299'>299</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Walworth, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonPeters'>London (St Peter’s)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wanstead, <i>see</i> <a href='#LondonMerchant'>London (Merchant Seamen’s Orphan Asylum)</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ward, Basil, <a href='#Page_468'>468</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f493' class='c025'><sup>[493]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i>  <a href='#ConnellWard'>Connell, Ward &amp; Lucas</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wardell, W. W., <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>-<a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_171'>171</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ware, William Robert, <a href='#Page_144'>144</a>, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#WareVan'>Ware &amp; Van Brunt</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='WareVan'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ware &amp; Van Brunt, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a>, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>; <i><a href='#pl095a'>95</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Warren, Russell, <a href='#Page_82'>82</a>, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a>, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>; <i><a href='#pl042a'>42</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Warren, Whitney, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#WarrenWetmore'>Warren &amp; Wetmore</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='WarrenWetmore'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Warren &amp; Wetmore, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl177a'>177</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='WarrenMich'></a>Warren (Mich.), General Motors Technical  Institute, <a href='#Page_418'>418</a>, fig. <i><a href='#i419'>55</a></i>; <i><a href='#pl168a'>168</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Washington, U.S. Capitol, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>-<a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_123'>123</a>-<a href='#Page_124'>124</a>, <a href='#Page_166'>166</a>-<a href='#Page_167'>167</a>; <i><a href='#pl082a'>82</a></i>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Court of Claims, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>;</li>
+      <li>Lincoln Memorial, <a href='#Page_393'>393</a>, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>; <i><a href='#pl180'>180</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Patent Office, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li>
+      <li>Post Office Department (former), <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li>
+      <li>Smithsonian Institution, <a href='#Page_105'>105</a>, <a href='#Page_167'>167</a>;</li>
+      <li>State, War and Navy Department Building (former), <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_169'>169</a>; <i><a href='#pl082a'>82</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Temple of Scottish Rite, <a href='#Page_400'>400</a>;</li>
+      <li>Treasury  <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>; <i><a href='#pl038a'>38</a></i>;</li>
+      <li>Washington Monument, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>;</li>
+      <li>White House, <a href='#Page_6'>6</a>, <a href='#Page_79'>79</a>-<a href='#Page_80'>80</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wasmuth, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a>, <a href='#Page_324'>324</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Waterhouse, Alfred, <a href='#Page_185'>185</a>-<a href='#Page_186'>186</a>, <a href='#Page_236'>236</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Watts, Mary, <a href='#Page_460'>460</a>(<a href='#ch17'>17</a>)<a href='#f381' class='c025'><sup>[381]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wayzata (Minn.), Davis house, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a>, fig. <a href='#i426'>57</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Little house, <a href='#Page_325'>325</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Webb, Philip, <a href='#Page_177'>177</a>, <a href='#Page_178'>178</a>, <a href='#Page_182'>182</a>, <a href='#Page_206'>206</a>-<a href='#Page_207'>207</a>, <a href='#Page_211'>211</a>, <a href='#Page_213'>213</a>, <a href='#Page_218'>218</a>, <a href='#Page_220'>220</a>, <a href='#Page_259'>259</a>-<a href='#Page_260'>260</a>, <a href='#Page_262'>262</a>-<a href='#Page_263'>263</a>, <a href='#Page_454'>454</a>(<a href='#ch12'>12</a>)<a href='#f275' class='c025'><sup>[275]</sup></a>, figs. <a href='#i260'>23</a>, <a href='#i262'>25</a>; <i><a href='#pl097a'>97</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl102a'>102</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Weimar, Bauhaus, <a href='#Page_337'>337</a>, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>War Monument, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a>-<a href='#Page_368'>368</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Weinbrenner, Friedrich, <a href='#Page_17'>17</a>, <a href='#Page_22'>22</a>-<a href='#Page_23'>23</a>, <a href='#Page_28'>28</a>, fig. <a href='#i017'>1</a>; <i><a href='#pl010a'>10</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Welch, Edward, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wellington College (Berks.), <a href='#Page_208'>208</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wells, Joseph M., <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f513' class='c025'><sup>[513]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Welwyn Garden City (Herts.), <a href='#Page_405'>405</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Wendingen</i>, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>West, William Russell, <a href='#Page_444'>444</a>(<a href='#ch05'>5</a>)<a href='#f272' class='c025'><sup>[272]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_747'>747</span>West Columbia (Texas), Elementary School, <a href='#Page_422'>422</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Westmann, Carl, <a href='#Page_397'>397</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Westmorland (Wis.), Jacobs house, <a href='#Page_329'>329</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wetmore, Charles D., <a href='#Page_469'>469</a>(<a href='#ch24'>24</a>)<a href='#f516' class='c025'><sup>[516]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wheatley Hills (N.Y.), Morgan house, <a href='#Page_399'>399</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wheeler, Gervase, <a href='#Page_263'>263</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wheeling (W. Va.), bridge, <a href='#Page_119'>119</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Whistler, J. A. M., <a href='#Page_286'>286</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Whitechapel, <i>see</i> <a href='#London'>London</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>White Rock (R.I.), mill village, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>White, Stanford, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a>, <a href='#Page_226'>226</a>, <a href='#Page_227'>227</a>, <a href='#Page_265'>265</a>, <a href='#Page_267'>267</a>, <a href='#Page_455'>455</a>(<a href='#ch13'>13</a>)<a href='#f287' class='c025'><sup>[287]</sup></a>-<a href='#f288' class='c025'><sup>[288]</sup></a>; <i>see also</i> <a href='#McKimMeadWhite'>McKim, Mead &amp; White</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>White, William H., <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_179'>179</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wielemans, Alexander, <a href='#Page_148'>148</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wiener Werkstätte, <a href='#Page_349'>349</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wight, Peter B., <a href='#Page_191'>191</a>, <a href='#Page_193'>193</a>-<a href='#Page_194'>194</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wijdeveld, H. T., <a href='#Page_359'>359</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wild, J. W., <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a>, <a href='#Page_235'>235</a>; <i><a href='#pl036'>36</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wilde, Oscar, <a href='#Page_217'>217</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wilkins, William, <a href='#Page_4'>4</a>-<a href='#Page_5'>5</a>, <a href='#Page_66'>66</a>-<a href='#Page_67'>67</a>, <a href='#Page_96'>96</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Willard, Solomon, <a href='#Page_80'>80</a>, <a href='#Page_85'>85</a>, <a href='#Page_102'>102</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Williams, A. &amp; G., <a href='#Page_75'>75</a>, <a href='#Page_234'>234</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Willink, W. E., <a href='#Page_219'>219</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wills, Frank, <a href='#Page_104'>104</a>, <a href='#Page_106'>106</a>, <a href='#Page_196'>196</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Wilmette'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wilmette (Ill.), Baker house, <a href='#Page_322'>322</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wils, Jan, <a href='#Page_359'>359</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wilton (Wilts.), St Mary and St Nicholas’s, <a href='#Page_74'>74</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wimmel, C. L., <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='WimmelForsmann'></a>Wimmel &amp; Forsmann, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_36'>36</a>; <i><a href='#pl011a'>11</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Winckelmann, J. J., <a href='#Page_xxi'>xxi</a>, <a href='#Page_xxiii'>xxiii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Windsor Castle (Berks.), <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Winnetka'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Winnetka (Ill.), Crow Island School, <a href='#Page_361'>361</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Winona (Minn.), Merchants’ National Bank, <a href='#Page_249'>249</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Winterthur, Town Hall, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wispers (Sussex), <a href='#Page_210'>210</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Withers, F. C., <a href='#Page_195'>195</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wittenberg, housing estate, <a href='#Page_367'>367</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Woburn (Mass.), Winn Memorial Library, <a href='#Page_223'>223</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wolff, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wood, John, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wood, Robert, <a href='#Page_xxii'>xxii</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wood, Sancton, <a href='#Page_160'>160</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><span class='pageno' id='Page_748'>748</span>Woodward, Benjamin, <a href='#Page_176'>176</a>; <i><a href='#pl086a'>86</a></i>;  <i>see also</i> <a href='#Deane'>Deane &amp; Woodward</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Woodward, G. E., <a href='#Page_264'>264</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Worcester (Mass.), Boston &amp; Albany Railroad Station, <a href='#Page_194'>194</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Polytechnic Institute, <a href='#Page_192'>192</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Woonsocket (R.I.), Lippitt Woollen Mill, <a href='#Page_86'>86</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wren, Sir Christopher, <a href='#Page_116'>116</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wright, Frank Lloyd, <a href='#Page_xxviii'>xxviii</a>, <a href='#Page_232'>232</a>, <a href='#Page_243'>243</a>, <a href='#Page_270'>270</a>ff., <a href='#Page_312'>312</a>, <a href='#Page_320'>320</a>ff., <a href='#Page_359'>359</a>, <a href='#Page_431'>431</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a>, <a href='#Page_456'>456</a>(<a href='#ch14'>14</a>)<a href='#f316' class='c025'><sup>[316]</sup></a>, figs. <a href='#Page_29'>29</a>-<a href='#Page_31'>31</a>, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a>-<a href='#Page_42'>42</a>; <i><a href='#pl124a'>124</a>-<a href='#pl126'>126</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl128a'>128</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl188a'>188</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wurster, W. W., <a href='#Page_383'>383</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Würzburg, Prison for Women, <a href='#Page_18'>18</a>; <i><a href='#pl017a'>17</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wyatt, Benjamin Dean, <a href='#Page_63'>63</a>, <a href='#Page_67'>67</a>; <i><a href='#pl031'>31</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wyatt, James, <a href='#Page_2'>2</a>, <a href='#Page_3'>3</a>, <a href='#Page_117'>117</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wyatt, Sir M. D., <a href='#Page_127'>127</a>, <a href='#Page_146'>146</a>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a>, <a href='#Page_164'>164</a>; <i><a href='#pl065'>65</a></i>, <i><a href='#pl083a'>83</a></i></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wyatt, T. H., <a href='#Page_74'>74</a>, <a href='#Page_162'>162</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Wyatville, Sir Jeffrey, <a href='#Page_94'>94</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>Y</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Yahara Boat Club, project for, <a href='#Page_323'>323</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Yamasaki, Minoru, <a href='#Page_423'>423</a>, <a href='#Page_430'>430</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ybl, Miklós, <a href='#Page_151'>151</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Yealmpton (Devon), St Bartholomew’s, <a href='#Page_174'>174</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><i>Yellow Book</i>, <a href='#Page_285'>285</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Yeon, John, <a href='#Page_425'>425</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Yorke, F. R. S., <a href='#Page_382'>382</a>, <a href='#Page_434'>434</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Young, Ammi B., <a href='#Page_81'>81</a>, <a href='#Page_89'>89</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Young, Brigham, <a href='#Page_251'>251</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Young, John, <a href='#Page_69'>69</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Young &amp; Son, C. D., <a href='#Page_128'>128</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Young &amp; Son, J., <a href='#Page_237'>237</a></li>
+  <li class='c005'><span class='c002'>Z</span></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zakharov, A. D., <a href='#Page_15'>15</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'><a id='Zehlendorf'></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zehlendorf, Perls house, <a href='#Page_365'>365</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zehrfuss, B.-H., <a href='#Page_496'>496</a>(<a href='#ch23'>23</a>)<a href='#f505' class='c025'><sup>[505]</sup></a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zevi, Bruno, <a href='#Page_321'>321</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ziebland, G. F., <a href='#Page_24'>24</a>, <a href='#Page_27'>27</a>, <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Ziller, Ernst, <a href='#Page_38'>38</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zinsser, Ernst, <a href='#Page_417'>417</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zocher, J. D., <a href='#Page_42'>42</a></li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zurich, Observatory, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>-<a href='#Page_166'>166</a>;
+    <ul>
+      <li>Polytechnic School, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a>;</li>
+      <li>Rütschi-Bleuler House, <a href='#Page_165'>165</a></li>
+    </ul>
+  </li>
+  <li class='c040'>Zwirner, E. F., <a href='#Page_111'>111</a></li>
+</ul>
+<div class='pbb'>
+ <hr class='pb c005' />
+</div>
+<p class='c010'>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class='tnbox'>
+
+ <ul class='ul_1 c005'>
+    <li>Transcriber’s Notes:
+      <ul  class='ul_2'>
+        <li>In the printed version of this book the page numbering started over at 1 for The
+        Plates section. In this version, instead, the page numbers continue at <a href='#Page_484'>484</a>, and the
+        Index starts on page <a href='#Page_677'>677</a>. The table of <a href='#toc'>CONTENTS</a> has been updated to reflect these
+        changes.
+        </li>
+        <li>Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected.
+        </li>
+        <li>Typographical errors were silently corrected.
+        </li>
+        <li>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant
+        form was found in this book.
+        </li>
+      </ul>
+    </li>
+  </ul>
+
+</div>
+<p class='c010'>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARCHITECTURE: NINETEENTH AND TWENTIETH CENTURIES ***</div>
+<div style='text-align:left'>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
+be renamed.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
+law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
+so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
+States without permission and without paying copyright
+royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
+of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG&#8482;
+concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
+and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
+the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
+of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
+copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
+easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
+of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
+Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away&#8212;you may
+do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
+by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
+license, especially commercial redistribution.
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div>
+<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div>
+<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+To protect the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &#8220;Project
+Gutenberg&#8221;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; License available with this file or online at
+www.gutenberg.org/license.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
+destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in your
+possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
+by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
+or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.B. &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is a registered trademark. It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
+paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works if you follow the terms of this
+agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&#8220;the
+Foundation&#8221; or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
+of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works. Nearly all the individual
+works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
+States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
+United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
+claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
+displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
+all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
+that you will support the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting
+free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; name associated with the work. You can easily
+comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
+same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License when
+you share it without charge with others.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
+in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
+check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
+agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
+distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
+other Project Gutenberg&#8482; work. The Foundation makes no
+representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
+country other than the United States.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
+immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License must appear
+prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work (any work
+on which the phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; appears, or with which the
+phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is associated) is accessed, displayed,
+performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
+</div>
+
+<blockquote>
+  <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
+    other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+    whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+    of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+    at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+    are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
+    of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
+  </div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is
+derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
+contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
+copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
+the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
+redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase &#8220;Project
+Gutenberg&#8221; associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
+either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
+obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
+additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
+will be linked to the Project Gutenberg&#8482; License for all works
+posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
+beginning of this work.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg&#8482;.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; License.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
+any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
+to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work in a format
+other than &#8220;Plain Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other format used in the official
+version posted on the official Project Gutenberg&#8482; website
+(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
+to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
+of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original &#8220;Plain
+Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other form. Any alternate format must include the
+full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg&#8482; works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+provided that:
+</div>
+
+<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'>
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &#8226; You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+        the use of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works calculated using the method
+        you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
+        to the owner of the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, but he has
+        agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
+        within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
+        legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
+        payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
+        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
+        Section 4, &#8220;Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
+        Literary Archive Foundation.&#8221;
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &#8226; You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+        you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+        does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+        License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
+        copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
+        all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+        works.
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &#8226; You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
+        any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+        electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
+        receipt of the work.
+    </div>
+
+    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
+        &#8226; You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+        distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works.
+    </div>
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work or group of works on different terms than
+are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
+from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
+the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
+forth in Section 3 below.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
+contain &#8220;Defects,&#8221; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
+or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
+intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
+other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
+cannot be read by your equipment.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &#8220;Right
+of Replacement or Refund&#8221; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
+with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
+with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
+lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
+or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
+opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
+the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
+without further opportunities to fix the problem.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &#8216;AS-IS&#8217;, WITH NO
+OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
+LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
+damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
+violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
+agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
+limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
+unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
+remaining provisions.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in
+accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
+production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
+including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
+the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
+or any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, (b) alteration, modification, or
+additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, and (c) any
+Defect you cause.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
+computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
+exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
+from people in all walks of life.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg&#8482;&#8217;s
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg&#8482; collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg&#8482; and future
+generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
+Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service. The Foundation&#8217;s EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
+U.S. federal laws and your state&#8217;s laws.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Foundation&#8217;s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
+Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
+to date contact information can be found at the Foundation&#8217;s website
+and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
+public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
+DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
+visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
+donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
+Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
+Gutenberg&#8482; concept of a library of electronic works that could be
+freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
+distributed Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks with only a loose network of
+volunteer support.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
+the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
+necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
+edition.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
+facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
+</div>
+
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This website includes information about Project Gutenberg&#8482;,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+</div>
+
+</div>
+  </body>
+  <!-- created with ppgen.py 3.56n on 2023-02-19 18:02:40 GMT -->
+</html>
diff --git a/70079-h/images/Xpl099b.jpg b/70079-h/images/Xpl099b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f8ffce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/Xpl099b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/cover.jpg b/70079-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a448f75
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i017.jpg b/70079-h/images/i017.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b54b24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i017.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i021.jpg b/70079-h/images/i021.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe58d32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i021.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i024.jpg b/70079-h/images/i024.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..980c636
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i024.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i026.jpg b/70079-h/images/i026.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e24c58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i026.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i029.jpg b/70079-h/images/i029.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..da73979
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i029.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i031.jpg b/70079-h/images/i031.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f23c9c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i031.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i034.jpg b/70079-h/images/i034.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2fe7df7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i034.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i037.jpg b/70079-h/images/i037.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ef4d094
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i037.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i047.jpg b/70079-h/images/i047.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..36124ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i047.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i065.jpg b/70079-h/images/i065.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..96dea87
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i065.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i079.jpg b/70079-h/images/i079.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59a8fe9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i079.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i083.jpg b/70079-h/images/i083.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79f9d54
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i083.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i087.jpg b/70079-h/images/i087.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c112c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i087.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i125.jpg b/70079-h/images/i125.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3df223
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i125.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i139.jpg b/70079-h/images/i139.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af6d9f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i139.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i156a.jpg b/70079-h/images/i156a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..73d6b9d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i156a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i156b.jpg b/70079-h/images/i156b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3de19c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i156b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i157a.jpg b/70079-h/images/i157a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3a42a3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i157a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i157b.jpg b/70079-h/images/i157b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4315b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i157b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i203.jpg b/70079-h/images/i203.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a929b97
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i203.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i208.jpg b/70079-h/images/i208.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14b0314
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i208.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i210.jpg b/70079-h/images/i210.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f23ecb6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i210.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i231.jpg b/70079-h/images/i231.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bf5dc8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i231.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i255.jpg b/70079-h/images/i255.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c09090a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i255.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i258.jpg b/70079-h/images/i258.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..296fe86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i258.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i260.jpg b/70079-h/images/i260.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ee2b600
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i260.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i261.jpg b/70079-h/images/i261.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b19b05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i261.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i262.jpg b/70079-h/images/i262.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b25731
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i262.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i266.jpg b/70079-h/images/i266.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3c0b23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i266.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i268.jpg b/70079-h/images/i268.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d28259a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i268.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i270.jpg b/70079-h/images/i270.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80d52f2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i270.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i272.jpg b/70079-h/images/i272.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..309ffa3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i272.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i273.jpg b/70079-h/images/i273.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..09c1da8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i273.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i274.jpg b/70079-h/images/i274.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49b7c29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i274.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i277.jpg b/70079-h/images/i277.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..915feb6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i277.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i278.jpg b/70079-h/images/i278.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3f10dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i278.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i290.jpg b/70079-h/images/i290.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43bcfa6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i290.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i304.jpg b/70079-h/images/i304.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2fa7dbe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i304.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i311.jpg b/70079-h/images/i311.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f171e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i311.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i313.jpg b/70079-h/images/i313.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cc25d9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i313.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i322.jpg b/70079-h/images/i322.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2abbf13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i322.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i323.jpg b/70079-h/images/i323.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc3aad7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i323.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i327.jpg b/70079-h/images/i327.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e44ca65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i327.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i328.jpg b/70079-h/images/i328.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e0ad77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i328.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i331.jpg b/70079-h/images/i331.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c39d7e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i331.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i353.jpg b/70079-h/images/i353.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d74940e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i353.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i368.jpg b/70079-h/images/i368.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0cadde3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i368.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i369.jpg b/70079-h/images/i369.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df6d0da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i369.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i371.jpg b/70079-h/images/i371.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c50045d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i371.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i372.jpg b/70079-h/images/i372.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..260967a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i372.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i374.jpg b/70079-h/images/i374.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4576395
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i374.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i375.jpg b/70079-h/images/i375.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99a7180
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i375.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i376.jpg b/70079-h/images/i376.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..693aed4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i376.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i386.jpg b/70079-h/images/i386.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..982f6bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i386.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i389.jpg b/70079-h/images/i389.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..363adea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i389.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i390.jpg b/70079-h/images/i390.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3fea53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i390.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i406.jpg b/70079-h/images/i406.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e622643
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i406.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i419.jpg b/70079-h/images/i419.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5350ca2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i419.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i425.jpg b/70079-h/images/i425.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a420bb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i425.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/i426.jpg b/70079-h/images/i426.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b99b509
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/i426.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl001.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl001.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ff0a62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl001.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl002a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl002a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42ee53a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl002a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl002b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl002b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9ef1755
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl002b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl002c.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl002c.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15dacf3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl002c.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl003.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl003.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..460fa56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl003.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl004a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl004a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53a0bab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl004a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl004b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl004b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cfbfe8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl004b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl005.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl005.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c017ed1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl005.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl006a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl006a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5de59b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl006a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl006b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl006b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..afef83f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl006b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl007.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl007.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7969d6d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl007.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl008a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl008a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ba6af5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl008a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl008b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl008b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..289f557
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl008b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl009a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl009a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0da88e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl009a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl009b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl009b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0abce26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl009b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl010a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl010a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f6a238
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl010a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl010b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl010b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ede977b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl010b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl011a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl011a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5f80d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl011a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl011b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl011b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ee3406
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl011b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl012.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl012.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4364c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl012.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl013.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl013.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1beddb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl013.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl014a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl014a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6078451
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl014a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl014b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl014b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cb41023
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl014b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl015.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl015.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acf788e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl015.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl016a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl016a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d68e63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl016a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl016b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl016b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a55115
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl016b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl017a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl017a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0291470
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl017a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl017b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl017b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9c632a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl017b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl018a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl018a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f260a5c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl018a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl018b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl018b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78cdbab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl018b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl019.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl019.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92e5bc9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl019.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl020.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl020.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..606a1c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl020.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl021.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl021.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b26960b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl021.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl022a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl022a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b041a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl022a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl022b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl022b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4ab5a32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl022b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl023a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl023a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..672989c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl023a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl023b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl023b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11783b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl023b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl024.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl024.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2857e47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl024.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl025.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl025.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ad9838
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl025.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl026a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl026a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd92b23
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl026a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl026b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl026b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3cf42c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl026b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl027a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl027a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb2515a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl027a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl027b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl027b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac10c17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl027b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl027c.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl027c.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2baa14b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl027c.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl028a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl028a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..016b22d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl028a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl028b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl028b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32a18fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl028b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl029.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl029.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..025bfb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl029.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl030.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl030.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d20e8e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl030.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl031.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl031.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3bd607
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl031.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl032.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl032.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..028b6d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl032.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl033.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl033.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..988c4b2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl033.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl034a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl034a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8df455
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl034a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl034b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl034b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f36586
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl034b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl035a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl035a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e14daf9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl035a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl035b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl035b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b70451b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl035b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl036.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl036.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3a2c84
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl036.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl037a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl037a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c950a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl037a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl037b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl037b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f10f51
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl037b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl038a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl038a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d27830
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl038a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl038b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl038b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5a99f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl038b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl039a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl039a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bf311a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl039a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl039b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl039b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..faec997
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl039b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl040.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl040.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3b70ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl040.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl041.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl041.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d303170
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl041.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl042a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl042a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ec5bb01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl042a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl042b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl042b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bc9892
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl042b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl043a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl043a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..56b824f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl043a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl043b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl043b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b03674a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl043b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl044.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl044.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97d78ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl044.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl045.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl045.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba98d80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl045.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl046.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl046.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db71308
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl046.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl047a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl047a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04ffd04
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl047a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl047b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl047b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a23b025
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl047b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl048.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl048.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..46409ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl048.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl049.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl049.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1811c16
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl049.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl050a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl050a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3c4c17f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl050a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl050b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl050b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de26754
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl050b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl051.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl051.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8284c57
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl051.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl052a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl052a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..751521f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl052a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl052b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl052b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ddb9a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl052b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl053a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl053a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5d185f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl053a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl053b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl053b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a097a20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl053b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl054.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl054.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a527b32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl054.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl055a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl055a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edc7e3e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl055a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl055b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl055b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8d5ec4a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl055b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl056.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl056.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4cd74b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl056.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl057a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl057a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63b919a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl057a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl057b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl057b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c29058f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl057b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl058a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl058a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..965a285
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl058a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl058b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl058b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e1ce9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl058b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl059.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl059.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fe18ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl059.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl060a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl060a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..badc75f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl060a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl060b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl060b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2ababf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl060b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl061.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl061.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..403ddea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl061.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl062a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl062a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f1a5c80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl062a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl062b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl062b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..628b435
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl062b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl063.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl063.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e43bece
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl063.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl064.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl064.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fe1bf99
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl064.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl065.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl065.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e2136e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl065.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl066a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl066a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c1e686c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl066a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl066b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl066b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..aeea8c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl066b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl067a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl067a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c4207c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl067a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl067b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl067b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..211ed7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl067b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl068.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl068.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66b605b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl068.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl069.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl069.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ee8b28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl069.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl070a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl070a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..634b809
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl070a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl070b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl070b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c317df8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl070b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl070c.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl070c.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9088bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl070c.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl071.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl071.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc154e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl071.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl072a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl072a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c70bcfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl072a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl072b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl072b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..57d963f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl072b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl073a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl073a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49acfee
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl073a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl073b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl073b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49be5d9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl073b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl074.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl074.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1077abc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl074.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl075a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl075a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df10e49
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl075a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl075b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl075b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99c4137
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl075b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl076a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl076a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2cb6399
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl076a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl076b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl076b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b63169b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl076b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl077a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl077a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..baa847e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl077a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl077b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl077b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81fa049
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl077b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl078a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl078a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c7237d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl078a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl078b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl078b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b14474f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl078b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl079.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl079.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..03cccdc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl079.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl080a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl080a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4465bf9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl080a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl080b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl080b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9977b2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl080b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl081.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl081.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ccce32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl081.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl082a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl082a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a12087
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl082a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl082b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl082b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3290b90
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl082b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl083a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl083a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78686f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl083a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl083b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl083b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5abe68
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl083b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl084.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl084.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..543e298
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl084.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl085.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl085.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2b852fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl085.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl086a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl086a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9d5a6d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl086a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl086b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl086b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb5c986
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl086b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl087.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl087.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..29bf54c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl087.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl088.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl088.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..685198c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl088.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl089a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl089a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..43a15d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl089a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl089b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl089b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ad1272
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl089b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl090.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl090.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f803968
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl090.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl091a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl091a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9abcd91
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl091a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl091b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl091b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c585d22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl091b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl092a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl092a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86e3b66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl092a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl092b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl092b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22b9e07
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl092b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl093a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl093a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..72c24af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl093a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl093b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl093b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4a77dd2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl093b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl094a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl094a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9193417
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl094a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl094b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl094b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..52c40b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl094b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl095a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl095a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d5411d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl095a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl095b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl095b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4405954
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl095b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl096a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl096a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e942a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl096a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl096b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl096b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bf832c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl096b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl097a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl097a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..016cd44
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl097a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl097b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl097b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad47867
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl097b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl098.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl098.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a955fa7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl098.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl099a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl099a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0fdeb49
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl099a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl099b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl099b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..79394ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl099b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl100.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl100.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd134f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl100.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl101a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl101a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f458a9b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl101a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl101b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl101b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2915b15
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl101b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl101c.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl101c.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48906df
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl101c.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl102a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl102a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11d972b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl102a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl102b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl102b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85f2a78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl102b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl103.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl103.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b5c69e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl103.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl104a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl104a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0fa5d5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl104a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl104b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl104b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9665ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl104b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl105.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl105.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2c9c88
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl105.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl106a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl106a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..747f716
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl106a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl106b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl106b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..21939d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl106b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl107.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl107.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01731c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl107.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl108a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl108a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..88a4a54
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl108a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl108b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl108b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e74d605
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl108b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl109a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl109a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c97ecac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl109a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl109b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl109b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d0ffdfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl109b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl110.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl110.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ffebff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl110.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl111.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl111.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d3d3d9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl111.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl112a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl112a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b0c71f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl112a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl112b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl112b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b30f0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl112b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl113.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl113.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..569625c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl113.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl114a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl114a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d9c55f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl114a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl114b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl114b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b880b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl114b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl115a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl115a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..514babf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl115a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl115b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl115b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89c7c29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl115b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl116a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl116a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..802725c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl116a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl116b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl116b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..90bf025
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl116b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl117a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl117a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3dfae12
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl117a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl117b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl117b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..63b9148
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl117b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl118.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl118.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..370def4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl118.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl119.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl119.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fdb994
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl119.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl120.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl120.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32dfc6f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl120.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl121.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl121.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c10e66b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl121.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl122a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl122a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9d1a52e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl122a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl122b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl122b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..029f75f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl122b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl123.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl123.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b469f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl123.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl124a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl124a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..00f1e5c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl124a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl124b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl124b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f554627
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl124b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl125a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl125a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..883582a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl125a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl125b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl125b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12e413d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl125b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl126.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl126.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e437f80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl126.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl127.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl127.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1fbc4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl127.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl128a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl128a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..26184f0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl128a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl128b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl128b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df37253
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl128b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl129a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl129a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9aecfff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl129a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl129b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl129b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..301284e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl129b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl130a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl130a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b828114
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl130a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl130b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl130b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c3233b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl130b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl131a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl131a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cec5225
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl131a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl131b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl131b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15cf297
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl131b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl132a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl132a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6ce8e2e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl132a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl132b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl132b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3797377
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl132b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl133.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl133.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b16162
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl133.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl134a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl134a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d0c1ccf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl134a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl134b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl134b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b08fef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl134b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl135a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl135a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d47e5f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl135a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl135b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl135b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1234ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl135b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl136.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl136.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5129906
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl136.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl137a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl137a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..765ec2e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl137a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl137b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl137b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..59d8c33
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl137b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl138a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl138a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4c3a70
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl138a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl138b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl138b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ead2b68
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl138b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl139a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl139a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69166c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl139a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl139b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl139b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a140327
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl139b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl140a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl140a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53ec558
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl140a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl140b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl140b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df0d09a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl140b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl141.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl141.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2816487
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl141.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl142a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl142a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9702a74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl142a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl142b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl142b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4bb1f89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl142b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl143a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl143a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2688acc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl143a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl143b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl143b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55f793e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl143b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl144.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl144.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1b1600
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl144.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl145a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl145a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..183f94e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl145a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl145b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl145b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a161a4c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl145b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl146a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl146a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..048b506
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl146a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl146b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl146b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa4354d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl146b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl147a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl147a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8a7d244
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl147a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl147b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl147b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ffb438a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl147b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl148a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl148a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e1cafa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl148a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl148b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl148b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5331d62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl148b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl149a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl149a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc57fd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl149a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl149b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl149b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a5b8dda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl149b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl150.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl150.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed45c73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl150.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl151.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl151.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7bed719
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl151.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl152.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl152.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd6e9b8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl152.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl153a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl153a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cfbdba4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl153a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl153b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl153b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04965ea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl153b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl154a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl154a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47ce7a7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl154a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl154b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl154b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5f800c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl154b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl155a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl155a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bfeae51
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl155a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl155b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl155b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a1f4ee8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl155b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl156a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl156a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4607cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl156a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl156b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl156b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97ae673
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl156b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl157a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl157a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..19780c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl157a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl157b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl157b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6dc8270
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl157b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl158a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl158a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1acc480
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl158a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl158b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl158b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9afa305
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl158b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl159.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl159.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e13ae02
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl159.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl160a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl160a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..60475a0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl160a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl160b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl160b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db1884a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl160b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl161a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl161a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1051fd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl161a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl161b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl161b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69f1272
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl161b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl162a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl162a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e33c632
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl162a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl162b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl162b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2958422
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl162b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl163a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl163a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..96b5b9e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl163a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl163b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl163b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a6adfe4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl163b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl164a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl164a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd29b5c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl164a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl164b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl164b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..812ea26
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl164b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl165a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl165a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ca48ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl165a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl165b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl165b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7c837e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl165b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl166.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl166.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7d20f29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl166.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl167.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl167.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d03d4a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl167.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl168a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl168a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0bacead
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl168a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl168b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl168b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e288d6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl168b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl169.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl169.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22bb249
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl169.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl170.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl170.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0d2b096
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl170.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl171.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl171.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2dac804
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl171.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl172a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl172a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..998c127
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl172a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl172b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl172b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..080244c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl172b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl173a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl173a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f4cbaf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl173a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl173b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl173b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ba16f30
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl173b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl174a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl174a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01e29f6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl174a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl174b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl174b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..932bf51
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl174b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl175a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl175a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..454fb32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl175a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl175b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl175b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d87ef0e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl175b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl176a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl176a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fc6fc18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl176a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl176b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl176b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3026c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl176b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl177a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl177a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f2d50d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl177a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl177b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl177b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5de759a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl177b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl178.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl178.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..714a895
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl178.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl179.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl179.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..80f3e50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl179.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl180.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl180.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..026bc34
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl180.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl181.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl181.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8cadd29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl181.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl182a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl182a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..856cb0a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl182a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl182b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl182b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f821685
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl182b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl183a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl183a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..44a8a1b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl183a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl183b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl183b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61d94b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl183b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl184.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl184.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ed0de29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl184.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl185a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl185a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13a784f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl185a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl185b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl185b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2dcc6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl185b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl186a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl186a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e11b8ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl186a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl186b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl186b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22311bd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl186b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl187a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl187a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04f776b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl187a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl187b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl187b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c51494
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl187b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl188a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl188a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2176380
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl188a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl188b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl188b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df87751
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl188b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl189.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl189.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..adb9f07
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl189.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl190a.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl190a.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ef5365b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl190a.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl190b.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl190b.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5e3126
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl190b.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl190c.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl190c.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d79530
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl190c.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl191.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl191.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b52807
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl191.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/pl192.jpg b/70079-h/images/pl192.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf9deea
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/pl192.jpg
diff --git a/70079-h/images/publogo.jpg b/70079-h/images/publogo.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..330a47a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/70079-h/images/publogo.jpg
author	Robert Tonsing <pterodactyl@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 13:45:03 -0700
committer	Robert Tonsing <pterodactyl@pglaf.org>	2025-10-14 13:45:03 -0700
commit	233bfa020b709f4b24e12bbdae0da5b62383c1bb (patch)
tree	167ad9e374f2a37c29c4615c91093eeb3c685b0e /70079-h
parent	3a371d3354d9d3594f5c07e3616e53afbd2cdba5 (diff)