TEXTS & DOCUMENTS A SERIES OF THE GETTY CENTER PUBLICATION PROGRAMS The TEXTS & DOCUMENTS series offers to the student of art, architecture, and aesthetics neglected, forgotten,or unavailable writings in English translation. Edited accordingto modern standards of scholarship and framed by critical introductions and commentaries, these volumes gradually mine the past centuries for studies that retain their significancein our understanding of art and of the issues surrounding its production, reception, and interpretation. Eminent scholars guide the Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities in the selection and publication of TEXTS & DOCUMENTS.Each volume acquaints readers with the broader cultural conditions at the genesis of the text and equips them with the needed apparatus for its study. Over time the series will greatly expand our horizon and deepen our understanding of critical thinking on art. Julia Bloomfield, Kurt W. Forster, Thomas F. Reese, Editors The Getty Center Publication Programs This page intentionally left blank IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? This page intentionally left blank PUBLISHED BY THE GETTY CENTER DISTRIBUTED BY THE UNIVERSITY OE CHICAGO PRESS TEXTS & DOCUMENTSD IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? THE GERMAN DEBATE ON ARCHITECTURAL STYLE HEINRICH HUBSCH, 1828 RUDOLF WIEGMANN, 1829 CARL ALBERT ROSENTHAL, 1844 JOHANN HEINRICH WOLFF, 1845 CARL GOTTLIEB WILHELM BOTTICHER, 1846 HEINRICH HUBSCH, 1847 INTRODUCTION TRANSLATION BY WORLFGANG HERRMANN THE GETTY CENTER PUBLICATION PROGRAMS Julia Bloomfield, Kurt W. Forster, Thomas F. Reese, Editors TEXTS & DOCUMENTS Architecture Harry F. Mallgrave,Editor In What Style Should WeBuild? The German Debate on Architectural Style David Britt, Translation and Manuscript Editor Margarete Kiihn, Editorial Consultant Lynne Hockman, Copy Editor Published by the Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities, Santa Monica, CA 90401-1455 © 1992 by The Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities All rights reserved. Published 1992 Printed in the United States ofAmerica 98 97 96 95 94 93 92 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Publication data for the original German texts may be found in the source notes followingeach translation. Cover: Heinrich Hiibsch, Polytechnische Hochschule, Karlsruhe (1833-1835). Drawing. Karlsruhe, Generallandesarchiv Karlsruhe. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is to be found on the last printed page of this book. xi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 1 WOLFGANG HERRMANN INTRODUCTION LfI»r*vJl HEINRICH HUBSCH IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? RUDOLF WIEGMANN REMARKS ON THE TREATISE IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? ilB CARL ALBERT ROSENTHAL IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? A QUESTION ADDRESSED TO THE MEMBERS OF THE DEUTSCHE ARCHITEKTENVEREIN 125 jOHANN HEINRICH WOLFF REMARKSON THE ARCHITECTURAL QUESTIONS BROACHED BY PROFESSOR STIER AT THE MEETING OF ARCHITECTS AT BAMBERG CARL GOTTLIEB WILHELM BOTTICHER THE PRINCIPLES OF THE HELLENIC AND GERMANIC WAYS OF BUILDING WITH REGARD TO THEIR APPLICATION TO OUR PRESENT WAY OF BUILDING 169 HEINRICH HUBSCH THE DIFFERING VIEWS OF ARCHITECTURAL STYLE IN RELATION TO THE PRESENT TIME 178 BIBLIOGRAPHIES 193 BIOGRAPHIES 199 INDEX TABLE OF CONTENTS 103 147 This page intentionally left blank ACKNOWLEDGMENTS The five German texts presented here in English translation introduce the reader to a debate that preceded, and in scope surpassed, a similar English controversy. This debate was sparked off by the appearance of a book by Heinrich Hubsch entitled In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? (In What Style Should WeBuild?) in 1828. The title of Hiibsch's book wasalso used as the title of a study by Klaus Dohmer (Munich, 1976) in which he explored the wide range of contemporary journals on architecture and art for aspects concerning controversial stylistic topics. Ashis subtitle indicated, Dohmer widened his search to cover the entire interval between Klassizismus and Jugendstil, whereasI confine the inquiry to a debate lasting only two decades. Dohmer's book has nevertheless been invaluable in assisting me to sift through the material relating to this short period. I am most grateful to Harry F.Mallgrave for the fruitful discussions wehad about this project and especially for the great care he took in reading the first draft of the translation and the many suggestions and corrections he made to improve it. The final text is to a considerable extent due to the skill and experience with which David Britt undertook the comprehensive task of editing. I am greatly indebted to him. I am also very grateful to Professor Margarete Kiihn for her valuable advice on selecting and procuring illustrations of Karl Friedrich Schinkel's buildings. Finally, I wish to express my gratitude to Kurt W. Forster, Thomas F.Reese, and the Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities for entrusting me with the execution of the project and especially to Julia Bloomfield for her help, encouragement, and friendship while guiding the work through its many stages. -W.H. This page intentionally left blank INTRODUCTION WOLFGANG HERRMANN HEINRICH HUBSCH CHOSE A STRAIGHTFORWARD QUESTION ASTHE TITLE FOR THE FIFTY-PAGE BOOK THAT HEPUBLISHED IN1828. Nevertheless, a complex of problems, conflicts, and uncertainties underlay its seeminglysimple wording,occupyingthe minds of those who, like Hubsch, were concerned about the unsatisfactory state of architecture. Over the next few decades attempts were made to answer the question or at least to consider seriously its implications. Arguments and counterarguments were advanced in quick succession; traditional values were upheld against radical proposals, and a materialistic approach was opposed by an idealistic point of view. A lively debate, carried on in speeches and in print, arose amongthose whose professions and predilections inclined them towardan interest in the controversy-architects and, quite frequently, art critics and academics. The main theme of the discussion-and the one on which this introductory essay will focus-was the question of style. Naturally, many other factors were pursued in the course of often quite elaborate argumentation, but it is those that relate most closely to the concept of style-such as construction, material, customs, or religious and aesthetic values-that are of particular interest. Those men who were to take part in the style controversy were born around the turn of the century. During their formative years the mainly literary current of the Sturm und Drang period swelled into the full flood of Romanticism in all the arts; and in this movement they found the fulfillment of everything they longed for: escape from the confines of traditional rule and conventional order into a world that responded to their emotions. This generation chiefly owed its serious interest in medieval art and architecture to twomen: Sulpiz Boisseree and Friedrich von Schlegel, the former through his collection of early German paintings, the latter through a publication describing medieval art and the deep impression that the cathedrals of Cologne and Strasbourg had made on him.1 The enthusiasm with which the younger generation responded to the newly revealed beauty of Gothic churches led many to choose architecture as the subject of their studies. Naturally, their teachers, who belonged to the preceding generation, firmly believed in the universal validity of the architectural canon of antiquity. Sooner or later, this was bound to lead to conflict. The way in which Heinrich Hiibsch's professionallife developed is a goodexample. Looking back to the day when, as a twenty-year-old, he had entere Friedrich Weinbrenner's studio, Hiibsch recalled how deeply impressed he had been by the "pointed-arch" style (Spitzbogenstil), "probably because the views of Goethe, Schlegel, and others had a strong influence on me."2 It is therefore not surprising to hear that even after two years of studying the classical canon under Weinbrenner, he still held to his first conviction "that ancient architecture wasunsuitable for our buildings, even when applied in the freest possible manner, and that it deprived them, as works of art, of the organic correlation of their parts." He admitted, however, that he was still too immature to be able to suggest something else to supersede whatever had been done hitherto.3 He still preferred the "vivid splendor of Gothic architecture" to the "lifeless planes...of facades built in the antique style"4 when he decided two years later, as was then quite usual, to continue his architectural education by studying the antiquities of Rome. Moreover,as the center of the Romantic German Nazarenemovement, that city had an additional attraction for him. 2. HERRMANN What interested him was not so much the ancient monuments as the medieval Italian churches and the manner in which their architects had simplified the Gothic forms. He adopted these simple forms in the first year of his stay in Rome, when he worked on designing churches in the Gothic style. During his second year, he traveled to Greece. His reaction to the important event of seeing Greek architecture in its pure form, and not in the corrupted interpretation presented bysucceeding generations, is most revealing. "On my return from Greece to Rome," he recounted later, "I had completely changed my views. The prolonged contemplation of Greek monuments strengthened me in my belief as to the inadequacy of Greek architecture for our extensive needs...and at the same time convinced me...that in order to establish a new style, alive to the demands made by the present, I had to proceed more radically than I had done so far."5 Thus, by 1819 he already had a goal that from then on would guide all his thoughts: to overcome what he called the "crisis of present-day architecture."6 Hubsch felt that progress toward the aim he had set himself-the establishment of a new style-was impeded by the tenets of classical doctrine. One important task that he intended to undertake was to demonstrate the falsity of the notion of imitation that was so deeply ingrained in architectural thought. He developed its refutation in a book entitled Uber griechische Architectur (On Greek Architecture), published in 1822. Unremittingly, he attacked the teachings of Aloys Ludwig Hirt, the leading theorist on classical antiquity. It wasnot the imitation of Greek art that wasthe object of Hubsch's critique; this ideal had lost much of the appeal that it had in Johann Winckelmann's day. The "imitation" to which he strongly objected related to the genesis of Greek architecture. According to a widely held view that had its root in Vitruvian tradition, Greek stone temples were modeled on earlier wooden buildings. Hubsch demonstrated that structural laws and the properties of the building material determined the construction as well as the form of the major parts. It was absurd, therefore, to deduce the stone structure of the Greek temple from a strange-looking, old wooden building. The idea that the trabeated system wasthe result of the imitation of a wooden structure ran counter to basic architectural principles.7 These ideas matured until in 1828, Hubsch wasready to elaborate them and to speak out against the idealistic approach to architecture. "After myfinal return from Italy in 1824," he wrote later, "I had a clear picture in my mind of the new style, the elements of which I then tried to develop as objectively as possible in the book.. .In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? [In What Style Should We Build?]"8 To this end he reviewed the major architectural systems. These had also been the subject of a book published a year before Hubsch's treatise by the wellknown historian Christian LudwigStieglitz. Yetin their objectives and final conclu- 3. INTRODUCTION sions the two authors differed greatly. Stieglitz gavea historical account ofthe manner of building as it differed amongnations. Resignedly,he concluded that for the present, "all that can be done, in view of the impossibility of creating new forms, is to imi- tate."9 But Hubsch, pursuing an uncharted route, undertook an analyticalexamination of the major styles and concluded with confidencethat the new style, as outlined by him, would "freely evolve and respond to any fair demand without hesitation."10 Hubsch admitted four factors as the basic determinants of style: material, technical experience, climate, and present needs.11 By limiting his analysisof ancient styles to what might be called materialistic factors, he could have found support in, and might indeed have been influenced by, a debate between Johann Karl Schorn and Carl Friedrich von Rumohr over the nature of style that had taken place in an exchange of letters published in Kunst-Blatt a few years earlier.12 Rumohr (whom Hubsch knew well enough to send a drawing to from Greece)13 countered Schorn's idealistic approach by stressing the clear distinction that had to be made between, on the one hand, the rawmaterial to be subjected to artistic treatment and, on the other, the ideas and their artistic representation in the final work of art. Only the former, the material as treated by the artist, incorporated what Rumohr called style. While he admitted that this concept of style meant that it evolved in an inferior and merely technical sphere, he emphasized that it wasjust for this reason that it had a separate existence and could be perceived separately in a work of art. Hubsch may or may not have been aware of Rumohr's theoretical arguments, but the extraordinary way in which he restricted his analysis of the major architectural systemsto the technical sphere makes it evident that he too considered the concept of style to be unrelated to aesthetic qualities. Aiming at a new style, he consequently focused his attention on those four principal factors that had in the past alone determined the major styles. Hubsch first listed the essential parts of a building: walls, ceiling, roof, supports, windows,and doors. These were the elements of style; their forms varied according to the material used.14 The Greeks, using hard marble or ashlar as building materials, developed a system in which all parts clearly conveyed the function they were to fulfill: columns appeared only wherethey supported an architrave, piers only where they strengthened the wall, and the architrave only where it was needed to carry the ceiling. In this way, they developed an architecture that "excelled in simplicity of composition."15 Next to material, it was what Hubsch called "technostatic experience" that had an important influence on the creation of style.16 The Romans, not comprehending the logic of the structural principle on whichthe Greek style was based, changed it into a "mere sham and show architecture."17 However, by using small-sized stones, they introduced the vault as a new structural element. 4. HERRMANN While architecture declined with the end of the Roman Empire, technostatic experience wasnever lost and even progressed.18 Over the centuries constructions became bolder, while less material was needed to span spaces. A highly developed vaulting technique and the introduction of the pointed arch (Spitzbogen), created a system in which everything derived from the construction of the vault.19 The medievalsystem of the vault was the opposite of the Greek post-and-lintel system. "Essentially," Hubsch concluded, "there are only two original styles: one with straight, horizontal stone architraves;the other with curved vaults and arches."20 The last two sections of the treatise are taken up by a comparison of two styles whose basic structural form wasthe arch: the rounded (i.e., the Rundbogenstil) and the pointed. The existence of a transitional period, in which the pointed arch was not acutely pointed and differed little from the Rundbogen, made it difficult for Hubsch to opt for one or the other, but in the end he decided for the latter because, he said, it conformed to the practical theory that he had developed in his book.21 One rather suspects that it was his taste that turned the scale in favor of the Rundbogenstil and not the "cold logic" by which-as he said later-a new style should be judged.22 It is hardly surprising that Hiibsch's view of the genesis of style was not accepted. Soon after his essay was published, the Kunst-Blatt carried a review written by Rudolf Wiegmann, who-nine years junior to Hubsch-was still on a study tour in Italy.23 Wiegmann criticized Hubsch for attaching a meaning to the term "style" that related to material and construction. "The whole treatise," he exclaimed, "seems to be pervaded by the notion that matter dominates mind."24 This reproach was unjustified. It was obviously based on a misconception about the aim of Hiibsch's analysis. Hubsch believed that in order to attain a style representing the present, it was necessary to probe into the factors that had determined the styles of the past, and material and construction had been the most important of these factors. He never denied that once this secure base had been established, the task of creating beauty still remained. Yetthis task related to a faculty different from that ofpure reflection, whichwashis only guide. Once,when explaining o what extent the new style would differ from the Greek style, he stopped when he ealized that the reader might expect him to speak about the aesthetic aspect of the ew style. He admitted that at this point it would have been fitting to discuss archiectural beauty but refrained since he "would have to speak too much offeelings, and his treatise would take on too subjective... an aspect."25 Right at the beginning of the reatise, he referred to "inessential elements" (as distinct from the basic forms): in a ord, what wewould call the aesthetic superstructure, where the "artist's talent and aste are mainly called upon" and where one should "let the artist's taste have free 5. INTRODUCTION t r n t t t w t rein."26 Shortly after, he emphasized that his investigation wasconcerned only with the form of the main architectural elements and that their combination was "the artist's primary task and bears witness to his talent."27 Hubsch obviously conceived of style as a quality separate from the rest of the work and no doubt agreed with Rumohr's statement that "at times style...is the only merit of an otherwise poor work,...while a well-executed work may lack any style."28 Soon another critical voice joined the debate. The young Franz Kugler, editor of the newly founded journal Museum, wrote an article for his publication in which he regretted the lack of a characteristic contemporary architectural style while acknowledging that such a style could only arise when based on the nation's religious sensitivity.29 He rejected the prevailing eclecticism as disgraceful and depressing and therefore welcomed recent efforts to steer clear of this confusion. He noticed two trends in particular: one represented by Leo von Klenze, the other by Hubsch.30 He reproached Klenze for demanding the adoption of the Greek style, since this would have the same effect that adoptions of known styles had always had-the obstruction of progress and the loss of one's own creative faculty. He then turned to an examination of the other trend. Drawing on a passage of Hiibsch's treatise (which he cited verbatim), he concluded that Hubsch was a representative of this trend and, in contrast to Klenze, rejected the known styles as incompatible with present needs and wanted to workout a new systembased on the "technical elements of construction."31 While Kugler did not wish to question the sincerity with which Hubsch pursued his objective and while he recognized that civil architecture would, in following these principles, be freed from unsuitable decorative overloading,he nevertheless wasconvinced that it was a great mistake to believe that "a work of art could ever evolve out of the material and extraneous conditions."32 We know of one other early reference to Hiibsch's treatise. It came from a youngarchitect, Carl Albert Rosenthal. In a book published in 1830, he noted with satisfaction that the indiscriminate enthusiasm aroused bythe discoveryof true Greek monuments had passed and with it the notion of a universal adoption of Greek forms. Thus, the wayhad been freed for an unprejudiced appraisal of medievalarchitecture, which had recently led to attempts at adapting it to present-day conditions, "with which Hubsch...in his treatise In What Style Should WeBuild? has made a praiseworthy, though inadequately prepared, beginning."33 An article that Rosenthalwrote fourteen years later explains the reservationswith whichhe acknowledgedthe merits of Hiibsch's treatise. There, Rosenthal rejected the Romanesque style as too constrained and clumsy and called unreservedly for a reinterpretation of the Gothic or-as he named it-the Germanic style.34 Gradually, the quest for style gained momentum. Eduard Metzgerwasthe 6. HERRMANN first architect who,like Hubsch, tried to deduce from an analysis ofpast styles the effect that certain positive factors had on the genesis of style. Metzger had studied under Klenze and Friedrich von Gartner. In 1833, shortly after his return from Greece (whic. he had visited together with his friend Gottfried Semper), he wasappointed professor at the newly founded Polytechnikum in Munich. A few years later, he published an article "Uber die Einwirkung naturlicher und'struktiver Gesetze auf Formgestaltung des Bauwerkes" ("On the Influence ofNaturaland Structural Laws on the Configuration [Gestaltung] of Buildings") in which he examined in some detail the Greek and the Egyptian temple (surprisingly in this sequence) and the German cathedral.35 In his introduction Metzger set out the principles according to which architecture had developed throughout history. He recognized three bases from which these principles derived: national character, with worship as its focus; nature; and building material. Whereas worship and nature affected architecture in a significant, yet mainly general, way,it was specifically the way in which "the material is used and ordered, or in other words the construction," to which the architect had to pay the greatest attention. This, he reasoned, meant that a building wasthe result of "a rationally conceived order, based on natural and structural laws" and that its ground plan wasa reflection of"all utilitarian, climatic, and structural conditions."36 A detailed analysis of the Greek temple, which took up many pages and was supported bymeasured drawings, confirmed his belief that these factors were indeed "the basic means that essentially influenced the configuration of these monuments."37 In Metzger's opinion, natural and rational laws also explained the form and proportions of Egyptian monuments. The material, which wasstone throughout, determined every essential form. "With these monuments," he declared, "Egypt paid homage to the spirit ofthe material and thus to the clearly manifested construction."38 Turning to his third paradigm,the German cathedral, Metzger found evidence of the influence of structure on form as early as the Byzantine churches of the eleventh and twelfth centuries.39 The manner of constructing the vaults led most naturally to the pointed arch and to high buildings. The finest buildings of this style were formed according to a system of well-ordered tension, consisting of primary and secondary ribs that were closely joined to support each other, thus forming a kind of wickerwork on the surface of the vaults that needed only thin material, such as a sheathing of bricks, to cover the compartments. Function also determined the forms of the buttresses and flying buttresses, enabling the wallsofthe nave to withstand the pressure of the vaults and to prevent the network of ribs from fracturing;40 had it not been for the "fairy tales" according to which these allegedly ideal forms were modeled on trees and branches, it would soon have been recognized that all these intricate forms, down to the smallest detail, followed the well thought-out structural 7. INTRODUCTION principle of load, tension, and relief and that everything "had evolved from normal mathematical calculations."41 A year later, a new journal published another article by Metzger on the same subject.42 This time he stressed-as did manyothers at the time-how important it was for architecture to have a scientific foundation."Scientific knowledgealone will lead to a thorough understanding of the essence of construction," he wrote.43 One consequence of the positive attitude toward science wasthis radical statement: U 0nce a building has been declared constructionally correct, it isessentially perfect." It was for the same reason, and contrary to Hubsch's view, that he thought the construction of the pointed arch wasmore perfect than that of the rounded arch.44 Against these statements must be set Metzger's admissionthat just as the framework of the human body needs to be covered by flesh and skin, so art must breathe life into the organismof the building.45 Despite this idealistic note, Metzger's otherwise materialistic approach was still felt to be so unusual at this time that the editor thought it advisable to preface it with this caveat: "While [the author] credits technical construction with directly influencing the configuration of a building, it should not be overlooked that architecture as an art form is not just a simple reproduction of the material world but is at the same time an art subjected to the loftier influence of the freely creative genius."46 Within the next few years, the predominant influence of material and construction was widely accepted. The first issue of another new architectural journal included an article byits editor, Johann AndreasRomberg,whostrongly believed that the promising development of a modern architecture depended on the adoption of rational principles: "Form expresses construction," he declared.47 The study of building material and of its properties wasnow needed more than ever, especially in view of the great number of new industrial products; architecture, in its search for a firm base, had lately begun to turn to architectural science and pay greater attention to material and climate. With this, Romberg thought, an important step had been made to "lead architecture away from utter decline" to regeneration. The link between architecture and science ensured that "only those forms that are rooted in construction are considered to be beautiful."48 Anton Hallmann, an architect of great promise and author of aremarkable book, Kunstbestrebungen der Gegenwart (Contemporary Artistic Trends), was even less compromising. His book was published in 1842, a few years before his untimely death at the age of thirty-seven."Only when the construction fits the material can wetalk of style," wrote Hallmann, "and style will lack character the moment we abandon these solid supports without any reason."49 Many writers had by now adopted Hubsch's thesis that material deter- 8. HERRMANN mined style. Yetnobody drew the seemingly obvious conclusion. Metzger came close to it when, in reference to the mania of wanting to create something new, he wrote that it was ridiculous to talk of new architectural styles "as long as there is no new material to oust the existing style."50 Weshall return to Metzger: several years later, he was the first to realize that a new material did indeed exist. Although some architects may have had reservations about Metzger's materialistic approach toward the problem of style, they certainly shared his opinion that it was impossible to invent a new style. All architects were concerned about the break in the sequence of styles that had become apparent at the turn of the century and were eagerly seeking ways to reform architecture; but they nevertheless knew that a quality as intangible as style could never be derived from such an extrinsic process as invention. Schlegel already warned of the consequences that would follow from attempts that aimed at "creating a new art, as it were, out of nothing."51 Later, when the discussion about style revealed its complex nature, the idea ofovercoming the difficulty by inventing a new style "at a stroke"52 or "par force '53 wasthought to be "foolish"54 and "misguided,"55 an undertaking that far exceeded "an individual's capacity"56 and was as unattainable as "the invention of a new language."57 When, in 1850, by order of King Maximilian of Bavaria, the Akademie der bildenden Kiinste in Munich invited architects to take part in a competition "to invent a newstyle," the laconic reaction of the DeutschesKunstblatt was:"Styles are not made; they develop."58 In view of these emphatic statements, it was plainly unfair of Klenze to ridicule the efforts of "some misguided German scribblers and dilettantes who believe...that they will be able to invent a new style through pamphlets, proclamations, and articles."59 It wasunfair but also a sign that he wasnot as much concerned about the state of architecture as were his younger contemporaries; they were painfully aware of the ill-defined and insecure part it played within the social and cultural framework of their day in comparison with the outstanding function it had fulfilled during great periods in the past. The so-called "scribblers" were motivated by the desire to reverse this decline. Whether they rejected or supported Klenze's adherence to classical ideals, they had one common aim: to work toward the establishment of an architectural style that would be a unique representation of all the material and nonmaterial factors that formed the character of their owntime. Reviewingthe past, they found that "every period and every nation had attained its characteristic style"60 and that in consequence "modern art must be a clear expression of the present."61 This, they said, wasnow universally demanded.62 To those who believed in the absolute value of Greek architecture, this was a task that while requiring a high degree of aesthetic sensitivity, could nevertheless be solved without transgressing the framework of classical doctrine. As Johann 9. INTRODUCTION Heinrich Wolff, the foremost representative of this faction, phrased it, all that was needed wasto use the elements that ancient architecture had provided in an intelligent and reasonable way, while taking into account the admittedly changed conditions of the present.63 Our task, he said when commenting on a lecture by Friedrich Wilhelm LudwigStier, can only consist of "modifying and rearranging the architectural elements that naturally evolved in antiquity."64 The situation was more difficult for those with opposing views, who were convinced that a break with the overpoweringinfluence that classical doctrine had exercised over the architectural production of the past few hundred years was a precondition for a sound architectural future. This demand in no way affected their admiration for Greek architecture, which they voiced in terms that equaled those of the "classicists." Indeed, they believed, with Hubsch, that no other nation "lavished such fine qualities on its monuments" as the Greeks did during the age of Pericles65 and, with Rosenthal, that no other nation had come "so close to the acme of perfec- tion."66 Wiegmann argued that even if it could be demonstrated that no future style could ever attain the supreme perfection of Greek architecture, this wasno reason for holding on to the antique style.67 Indeed, any attempts at modifying this style to meet modern conditions were bound to fail; it wasjust because of its perfection that the alteration of even the smallest detail would only end in disfigurement. "We must therefore accept that its time has passed."68 Greek architecture could therefore be of no help to architects in their search for a style characteristic of their own time. Havingrejected the idea of inventing a new style or imitating a past style, they faced a frightening situation in which-as Carl Gottlieb Wilhelm Botticher put it-"we wouldfind ourselves alone in an immense void, having lost all the historical ground that the past has provided for us and for the future as the only basis on which further development is possible."69 Caught in this dilemma, they reviewed the historical conditions under which postclassical styles had evolved and discovered-or persuaded themselves-that occasionally the development of a style had been interrupted for extraneous reasons. Hubsch used this argument as ajustification for the application of forms in a known style.Acknowledging that the new style he had described came close to the Rundbogenstil, he added, "as it would have evolved, had it developed freely and spontaneously, unimpeded by all harmful reminiscences of the ancient style."70 Wiegmann, reviewing Hubsch's treatise shortly after its publication, was unconvinced and sawthe adoption ofthe Rundbogenstil as nothing more than a change from ancient to new fetters.71 Yeta few years later, in 1839, he recognized that many recent buildings pointed to the vitality of the Rundbogenstil. He still believed that it could not be directly transplanted into the present but nowadmitted that it had been 10. HERRMANN "interrupted by outside influences" and therefore could still be adapted to meet our spiritual and material needs.72 Semper may have had this passage in mind when he told his students in 1840 that "it wasrightly said of the style that wecall the Byzantine that it had not been developed to the point of perfection that it could have attained. Its development wasinterrupted through the influence of the pointed arch that became common toward the thirteenth century."73 Writing in the following year, Wiegmann was more specific about the reason why this style had never fully developed: it was, he explained, suddenly interrupted in the thirteenth century by an outbreak of eccentric rapture, an indulgence in emotion at the expense of reason, a relapse into religious mysticism. The outcome wasthat its promising beginnings were abandoned, although it had not come to the end of its life (ausgelebt)-, through further development it could blossom into still greater perfection.74 It wasnot, he said, a natural development that had led to the Gothic style but one that occurred as the result of a powerful revolution. "If wewish to relate our art to a style of the past," he told Wolff, "then it can only be one that has been neither fully exhausted nor completely developed."75 It was Semper once more who took up these arguments in support of the Romanesque style that he had used in his design for the Nikolaikirche in Hamburg: "This style," he wrote in 1845, "whose truly national development was interrupted through the newly arrived element of the pointed arch, has not outlived its time as the Gothic did; it is therefore capable of being further developed."76 Of course, those who did look to Gothic architecture as a starting point from which to develop a style characteristic of their time had to arm themselves with similar arguments against the charge of imitating an already existing style. They declared that the "disturbance and enervation of people's lives in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries...had interrupted the then progressive rise of German art."77 Or, they believed that due to the domination of the priesthood, the spirit of Gothic art, as well as that of the Reformation,had remained misunderstood and unfulfilled: a conjecture that clearly marked its author as a member of Germany's Protestant church.78 Yet there were those who, on the contrary, believed that the style of the Gothic cathedrals had run its full course and, like the Greek style, had died a natural death. "The revival of either style... is impossible."79 Those who upheld classical tradition and those who looked to one of the medieval stylesfor guidance were all sincere in their belief that they had indeed avoided the easy road of imitation. Yet the question, in what style to build, still remained unanswered; it wasraised again and again and became the focus of a protracted and at times acrimonious dispute between two architects, Johann Heinrich Wolff and Rudolf Wiegmann, both academics, the first a professor at Kassel, the second at Dusseldorf. ll. INTRODUCTION The pagesofthe then-renownedjournal, the Allgemeine Bauzeitung,primarilyserved as the medium for this dispute. The controversywastriggered by a remark with which Wolff concluded a short preamble to his reviewofKlenze's collected architectural designs.80 He contrasted Klenze's well-founded views, with which he wholeheartedly agreed, with the "ignorance of some architects who live under the delusion that existing architectural forms,... evolved by a nation of the highest intellectual standards, are unsuitable for our period. These architects, calling Greek and Roman architecture pagan and un-Christian, maintain that different trends should be pursued and even deem themselves destined to break new ground for our art."81 Wiegmann struck back at once.82 Although Wolff had not mentioned his name, Wiegmann was convinced that the sarcastic remark about the "ignorance of some architects" who hoped to break new ground was aimed at him, because he, Wiegmann, had been the author of a treatise in which he attacked Klenze for his unswerving belief in the universal validity of ancient art.83 In addition, he had once before clearly alluded to Klenze in his review of Hiibsch's book, when, comparing the ordinary artist's work with an imitator's rehash of magnificent buildings, he concluded that the former might have broken new ground, while the latter wasas unimportant as if he had never existed.84 He told Wolff that many shared the delusion from which he, Wiegmann, was supposed to be suffering. He could well believe that their constantly growing number could make adherents of ancient art fear that their absolute domination was endangered. However, since the views that he and Wolff held were not peculiar to them but represented those of two fairly large parties, it was sensible to hope that a discussion might lead to an understanding. To this end, he put forward a series of postulates. Those that were not challenged he would assume to be acceptable to his adversary; those that were attacked, he would try to defend. Amongthe many general statements (which, as Wolff in return commented, were, if not new, yet in the main correct) there was one that was clearly aimed at Wolff's position. It said: "Greek architecture...can serve us as a model, not for imitating their workswithout further ado, but for creating true and original worksthat will be as appropriate to our needs, our way of feeling and thinking, our religion and morality, and our material and climate as those created by the Hellenes were appropriate to their conditions."85 This declaration and the statement that from the artistic point of viewa building with vaults was incompatible with the trabeated system of the Greek style and led, whenever attempted, to a "sham architecture," convinced Wolff thatWiegmann belonged to the party of those who maintained that in order to gain one's own style one must first cast off the fetters of ancient architecture and of those who not only 12. HERRMANN wanted to limit what they called the "absolute domination of ancient art" but sought to persuade architects to repudiate it altogether and thus-in Wolff's view-to forgo the inheritance of the finest period of art.86 They expected such a radical step for the simple reason that "we architects often find it necessary,in view of the wide rangeof present needs and different purposes, to relinquish the fine simplicity of Greek architecture...whose accomplished forms we cannot apply everywhere unless they are further developed in the spirit of the Greeks."87 Wolff knew from earlier writings that Wiegmann took the Romanesque arch to be the embryo of a new artistic blossoming; but, as long as Wiegmannand the other members of the "opposition" could not submit some successful examples of their efforts, Wolff would still share and defend the opinion of those architects and experts who maintained that ancient architecture-both Greek and Roman-presented the elements on whose intelligent application, after proper consideration of climate and present needs, the success of modern architecture rested.88 Wiegmann was delighted to have scored a point: Wolff had admitted that the Greek style could not be applied unless it underwent further development.89 But what did that mean, he asked. Did Wolff expect to bring the Greek style to a higher level of perfection? Did he really believe that the people of the nineteenth century would succeed, when the Hellenes themselves had failed to maintain the pinnacle that Greek architecture had attained under Pericles, and their work had degenerated under the Romans into mere inorganic decoration? What did "development in the Greek spirit" mean?The spirit that influenced the present wasthe Christian, not the Greek, spirit.90 The ancient style had proved inadequate for the churches and great assembly halls of modern times and was even less suitable for industrial buildings, where the use of iron had begun to evoke a characteristic style that would change the physiognomy of architecture.91 Should his inability to name successful examples of the new trend be taken by Wolff as proof that a true work of art could not possibly arise from any other than the Greek spirit, then Wiegmannmust tell him that indisputable evidence refuting this belief still existed in Speyer, Worms, and Cologne!92 If Wolff really believed that an organic integration of the vault into the trabeated system of the Greeks was possible, then he was sorry to say that Wolff had misunderstood the basic principles of classical architecture. The difference between a trabeated and an arcuated system was so great that an integration of the two was quite unthinkable. Over the course of centuries, the architrave had been totally abandoned; the vault had become the basis of a new style. In view of the construction of the majestic cathedrals between the twelfth and fifteenth centuries, there were not many architects who would deny that vaulted architecture produced original worksof art. "If anyone still doubted this, the 13. INTRODUCTION existence of universal skepticism half a century before was a sure sign that these stragglers would also soon disappear."93 He, Wiegmann, never claimed that any of the past styles had reached the admirable perfection of Greek art and consequently wasof the opinion that "even were it shown that no future style could ever reach that high degree of perfection, this would still be no reason to persuade us to hold on to antiquity and to refrain from striving after a style of our own."94 The second half of Wiegmann's article dealt with a recent book byAugust Reichensperger, the indefatigable apostle of the revival of Gothic architecture.95 Wiegmann outlined the content of the book in great detail and then compared both calls for revival. In the end, he rejected both Reichensperger's demand for a revival of the German style of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries and Wolff's for the adoption of the Hellenic style. In his opinion, both ignored the fact that "art asmanifested at a certain time does not remain unchanged, in other wordsthat art too has a history."96 When Wolff called for further development of ancient architecture, he added that this should be done in the spirit of the Greeks; but, Wiegmann queried, "how could we, who are only poor bunglers compared to the Hellenes, develop architecture in their spirit? Weare creatures of the nineteenth century and need great effort even to approach a scanty understanding of a different spirit, so that any attempt at production in this spirit would result in a masquerade, not a true and living art."97 With the rejection ofboth the classical and the Christian-Germanic style, which route-Wiegmann asked-should wefollow? Although he was not able to givea definite answer (the need for which became more pressing every day), he could at least indicate the bounds that would have to be observed. Notwithstanding these cautionary words, he then devoted the last two pages of his paper to a description of the unique qualities of the Rundbogenstil and of the many advantages it offered, once its forcibly interrupted development could be resumed.98 Wolff, surprised that his adversary had returned to the fray after an interval of three years, decided that he ought to explain his own position yet again, in case younger colleagues might be tempted by Wiegmann's fine-sounding phrases, such as a "national" and "characteristic" style, a "new route," or the "elimination of paganism," under whose"fetters ancient architecture had languished." Apparently,no proper attention had been paid to his own frequently reiterated remarks. Why was it, Wolff asked himself, that in the aesthetic field one's views were in constant opposition to the views of one's adversaries?99 A superficial study of architectural history had strengthened his opponents' belief that there had been many different styles over the centuries, each of which reflected the individual character of the respective nation, and that for this reason our period too must manifest its national character in new architectural forms.Wolff thought this argument misguided in principle. He believed 14. HERRMANN that architecture attained full perfection only when its forms had been conditioned by the nature of the material and the construction derived from it. There were,however, only a few styles in which these factors had the all-important effect. The great variety of styles to which his opponents referred were not "true styles" but only different ways of building, aberrations and deviations from the classical products of true styles.100 Wolff (as he made clear in the article that is translated in this volume)recognized only three periods that had created true styles-the Egyptian, the Doric, and the Ionic.101 It was true that the other manners of building were associated with a people's distinguishing traits and had therefore gained a characteristic and, one might say, national appearance that reflected the subjective image of a nation, but this occurred only because the natural development of forms had been abandoned.Now, however, given the general acceptance of the true basis of architecture, we should, by following the correct process, arrive at forms that had previously existed, or at least come close to them.102 His opponents, Wolff continued, unanimously rejected the ancient style as too sensuous and pagan and therefore as inappropriate for our period; yet they disagreed over how to achieve their own aims. Some favored the revival of the Gothic style-either in its fully developed or in greatly simplified form. Others chose the Byzantine style-the one that wasthe crudest and least developed-as the foundation for "their new national style." Its advocates-with Wiegmann, of course, as the main target of Wolff's sarcasm-explained their eccentric choice on the basis that this style sprang from the Christian period; that small stones were used for its structures; and lastly that it had solittle advanced beyond its crude beginnings that national identity, present perceptions, and modern conditions could still be implanted while it was developed-in short, it was recommended because of its obvious faults. What a basis, Wolff exclaimed, on which to rest our future art!103 Although he laid no claim to the gift of prophecy, it was clear that this "aesthetic development of forms" would either lead back to Roman architecture or to the fantastic Gothic forms promoted by Reichensperger: in other words to two styles that he knew Wiegmann detested-just as he, Wolff, did not like those favored by either Wiegmann or Reichensperger.104 With the dispute thus ended, each contestant could claim to have successfully upheld the fundamental principle on behalf of which he had taken up the fight. This wasfairly easy for Wiegmann,who simply denied the possibility that Greek architecture could in any way further the search for a new style; Wolff's position, however, was more vulnerable. He found that his call for the retention of classical ideals could only be sustained if the concept of the "Greek style" waswidened. While he still subscribed in his early work to the conventional notion that Roman architecture wasinferior to Greek,105 by the time he wasengaged in his dispute withWiegmann 15. INTRODUCTION he had accepted that ancient architecture comprised Roman as well as Greek architecture, which meant that theoretically the arch became a legitimate element of the classical system. In addition, seeing that in accordance with Hubsch's theory, material and construction played a great part in the general discussion over style, Wolff stressed the importance of both factors-but only insofar as they had been active in the genesis of the ancient styles (a fact that served as an additional justification for their adoption) and not because they determined the development of a new style, as had been central to Hubsch's perception. Lastly-near the end of the article that brought the dispute to a close-Wolff once again admitted that "due to our morecomplicated requirements we cannot always apply the forms created by the ancients in the same wayas they did."106 It was strange that when Wolff challenged Wiegmann to name some notable buildings in the newly acclaimed Rundbogenstil, Wiegmannshifted ground and referred him to the Romanesquecathedrals ofthe twelfth century as evidence that the Greek spirit wasnot essential for the creation of true works of art. Yetfor the last fifteen years prominent buildings had been erected in this style. Foremost were three buildings by Hubseh: the church of St. Cyriacus at Bulach (1834-1837), the Polytechnische Hochschule in Karlsruhe (1833-1835), and the Trinkhalle (Pump Room) in Baden-Baden (1837-1840); and three by Gartner in Munich: the Ludwigskirche (1829-1844), the Staatsbibliothek (1831-1842), and Ludwig-Maximilians-Universitat (1835-1840). Of all those whotook part in the discussion on style, Hubsch alone believed that he had devised a new one. Others were confident that the style they had chosen could be developed and would in the course of time lead to a new style, but Hubsch was sure that through his studies of Byzantine, Italian, and Gothic architecture, he had already reached that goal. In 1838, that is ten yearsafter publication ofIn welchem Style sollen wir bauen?, he still thought that the principles he had then set out concerning the main architectural forms were irrefutable.107 Hubsch practiced what he preached. The composition of the extremely simple facade of the church of St. Cyriacus in Bulach expresses the structural organization of the building, mainly through pilaster strips that indicate the spatial divisions of the interior (fig. 1).In line with the first principle in art, which-Hubsch declared-was truth,108 the walls, built from small blocks of sandstone, are not covered with plaster; and, in accordance with Gothic practice, the moderately projected cornice runs only along the inclined sides of the gable.109 The two towers flanking the apse consist, like those in the Gothic style, of several high stories-here with round-arched windows.110 Inside, a nave of comparatively great height is separated from the aisles by arches resting on slender polygonalpillars whosecapitals and bases 16. HERRMANN 1. Heinrich Hiibsch, Church of St. Cyriacus, Bulach (1834-1837). Lithograph from Heinrich Hiibsch, Bau-Werke, 2nd ser., 1(1852): 6. Karlsruhe, Institut fiir Baugeschichte, Universitat Karlsruhe. do not project beyond the contour of the pillar (fig. 2).m In the same way,the transverse arches that are part of this special form of vaulting do not project beyond the capitals of the pilaster strips from which they rise. By leaving the brickwork partly uncovered, the structural parts of the vaulting and the voussoirs of the arches are strongly emphasized. The system of round-headed twin windows between the transverse arches is continued round the choir, where it produces an effect of almost Gothic lightness. Hiibsch followed the tenets of his theory with great consistency in his 17. INTRODUCTION 2. Heinrich Hiibsch, Nave of the Church of St. Cyriacus, Bulach (1834-1837). Karlsruhe, Landesbildstelle Baden. 18. HERRMANN 3. Heinrich Hiibsch, Polytechnische Hochschule, Karlsruhe (1833-1835).Drawing Karlsruhe, Generallandesarchiv Karlsruhe. design for the Polytechnische Hochschule in Karlsruhe (fig.3). This was a large rectangular block with a facade of "monumental repose"-to quote the architect's own description of the building in his Bau-Werke.112 He achieved monumentality by focusing his attention upon three aspects: the texture of the walls, faced with small blocks of red granite; the proportional rhythm of the decreasing height of the three stories; and the emphasis given to the central block, with its vertical sequence of arched openings: three doorways,three twin windows,and a row of eight windowson the top floor. He refrained from applying any architectural decoration other than the 19. INTRODUCTION 4. Heinrich Hiibsch, Trinkhalle, Baden-Baden (1837-1840). Karlsruhe, Landesbildstelle Baden. narrow band of dentils running under the edge of the roof, two similar bands indicating the two upper stories, and rusticated lesenes at the corners of the building. Whereas at St. Cyriacus he was satisfied to present a conventional type of Christian church and therefore adopted many elements from the churches he had visited on his journeys, the Polytechnische Hochschule was a modern administrative building where he was not impeded by past traditions. The fact that he dispensed with any representational decor is remarkable, even after allowanceis made for the restriction imposed by a low budget. 20. HERRMANN 5. Friedrich Weinbrenner, Kurhaus, Baden-Baden (1821). Karlsruhe, Landesbildstelle Baden. Probably the best known of Hiibsch's buildings is the Trinkhalle in Baden-Baden (fig. 4). At first glance, the overall composition seems to be less determined by Hiibsch's tenets. Yeta comparison with Friedrich Weinbrenner's Kurhaus of 1821 (fig. 5), only a few hundred yards away, reveals the unconventional aspect of Hiibsch's design and the great aesthetic distance between the two buildings, one Neoclassical, the other in the Rundbogenstil. The main feature of both is a colonnade. Yetwhereas at the Kurhaus, eight tall columns form a typical portico that acts as a grand prelude to the assembly rooms inside the main building, in Hiibsch's 21. INTRODUCTION Trinkhalle the vaulted space behind the row of sixteen columns fulfills the sole function for which it wasdesigned, namely, to provide shelter and relaxation to those who had filled their glassesfrom the source located in a small square room at the back and center of the colonnade. The construction of Hiibsch's colonnade also differs from that of Weinbrenner's portico. "The architect," he declared in the note to the published design, "has set out to achieve something that has hitherto always been evaded, namely to create a colonnade as light as possible by using a vaulted instead of awooden ceiling."113 By using segmental instead of half-round arches to span the intervals between the slender columns, he greatly increased the impression of airy lightness. With its open display ofthe variousmaterials used-light granite for the columns and cornice, reddish brickwork for the vaulting, and terra-cotta tiles to face the wallsthe polychromatic Trinkhalle was Hiibsch's most effective protest against the undiluted whiteness of the Neoclassical buildings of the recent past. The same critical reaction had led architects interested in archaeology to discover traces of color on Greek marble temples. "The Ludwigskirche and the Staatsbibliothek," wrote Kugler in 1835, "were executed by Mr. Gartner in the Byzantine style, which, it seems, is considered by this architect (as it is by Mr. Hiibsch in Karlsruhe) to be the style that best conforms with the requirements of our time."114 Although the Ludwigskirche in Munich wasdesigned and built by royal command (fig.6), and Hiibsch's St.Cyriacus was the parish church of a small village near Karlsruhe, the churches are in many ways similar. These similarities are mainly due to the fact that the two architects drew on the same source. The simplified Gothic of Italian churches had made a deep and lasting impression on Gartner as well as on Hiibsch when they had visited Italy early in their respective careers. Yet in addition to these recollections and adoptions of historical forms, which are especially noticeable in the interior of the Ludwigskirche, its facade presents features that are characteristic of the new style as conceived by Hiibsch. A skeleton of double lesenes clearly expresses the spatial organization of the interior building, while any ornamental decor is totally excluded. The central part of the facade is emphasized by the simple means of a rhythmic sequence starting from the three axes of the entrance portico, up to the five niches with their statues and to the circular frame of the large rose window in the center of the gabled upper wall. When the facade of the Ludwigskirche was completed, except for the sculptural decor and upper story of the towers, a critic, reporting in the Kunst-Blatt on recent art in Munich, thought that the church represented the beginning of a new period "through a free adaptation of the so-called Byzantine or pre-Gothic manner, whose essential nature was best signified by the name of Romanesque style... [and 22. HERRMANN 6. Friedrich von Gartner, Ludwigskirche, Munich (1829-1844). Lithograph. Munich, Architekturmuseum, Technische Universitat Miinchen. 23. INTRODUCTION 7. Friedrich von Gartner, Staatsbibliothek, Munich (1831-1842). Oswald Hederer, Friedrich von Gartner 1792-1847:Leben, Werk, Schiiler (Munich: Prestel Verlag, 1976), 122, fig. 68. Photo: Courtesy Prestel Verlag. 24. HERRMANN 8. Leo von Klenze, Walhalla, near Regensburg (1830-1842). Lithograph by Carl August Lebschee after a painting by Klenze. Munich, Architekturmuseum,Technische Universitat Miinchen. which] as a theory had already found many adherents...until it was first put into practice in Munich."115 Next to the church, and built almost simultaneously, stands Gartner's most important and best-known building, the Staatsbibliothek (fig.7). This presented the Rundbogenstil in its purest form. Several circumstances came together to bring this about. In the first place, the building wasto house a public library and also the official archives. Since the state had to provide the funds, it wasimperative to cut the cost as far as possible. From the start, therefore, Gartner rejected the idea that his 25. INTRODUCTION 9. Leo von Klenze, Beifreiungshalle, near Kelheim (1836-1844). New York, Art Resource/Bildarchiv Foto Marburg. design for a library should resemble a "luxury" building.116 Instead, he intended to make its exterior "very simple and serious, sothat it could, as it were,be compared to a book, the cover of which should not be more sumptuous than its content."117 In the second place, it was-surprisingly-the king who insisted that the front of the building should have "no projections, no columns, no portico-only round-arched windows."118 Gartner considered the royal demands unreasonable, yet may have accepted them as a challenge to show that by relying only on basic constituents, he could master the task and create a truly monumental building. In this he certainly succeeded. 26. HERRMANN 10. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Altes Museum, Berlin (1823-1833). Drawing. Berlin, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin. The most important element of the front wing,which faces ontoLudwigstrasse, is the material. Different surfacetreatment emphasizesthe differencebetween the stories: the highly polished surface of the bare brickwork of the two upper stories contrasts sharply with the rustication of the ground floor. By recessing the windows and chamferingthe jambs, the thickness ofthe walls,and thus their strength, becomes visible. Differently profiled bands running along the window sills mark the three horizontal blocks that make up the facade, which is crowned by a cornice resting on a row of consoles. Not a single ornament, nor any decorative detail other than the 27. INTRODUCTION 11. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Nikolaikirche, Potsdam (1830-1849). Berlin, Brandenburgisches Landesamt fiir Denkmalpflege. 28. HERRMANN 12. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Schlofl Charlottenhof,Potsdam (1826-1835). Engraving from Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Sammlung architektonischer Entvriirfe (Berlin: Ernst & Korn, 1858), 2: pi. 112. Santa Monica, The Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities. archivolts over the windowsof the upper floors, distracts the eye. With great consistency, Gartner succeeded in creating a grand public building that in its monumental stillness had no equal at the time. These examples may suffice to draw attention to a style that represented a new trend in German architecture during the second quarter of the century.119 It appealed to a great number of people because it seemed to take up the middle ground between those buildings that were still modeled after the Greek style during these few decades-such as Klenze's Walhalla (1830-1842) near Regensburg (fig. 8) and 29. INTRODUCTION 13. Georg Ludwig Friedrich Laves, Royal Opera House, Hannover (1843-1852). New York, Art Resource/Bildarchiv Foto Marburg. 30. HERRMANN 14. Karl Friedrich Schinkel, Friedrich Werdersche Kirche, Berlin (1824-1830). Drawing. Berlin, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin. Befreiungshalle (1836-1844) near Kelheim (fig. 9), Karl Friedrich Schinkel's Altes Museum (1823-1833) in Berlin (fig. 10), and his Nikolaikirche (1830-1849) and Schlofi Charlottenhof (1826-1835) in Potsdam (figs. 11,12), or GeorgLudwigFriedrich Laves's Royal Opera House (1843-1852) in Hannover (fig.13)-and those that represented the neo-Gothic style, of which only a few existed at that period in Germany-Schinkel's Friedrich Werdersche Kirche (1824-1830) in Berlin (fig. 14) and Daniel Joseph Ohlmiiller's Maria-Hilfskirche (1831-1839) in Munich (fig. 15) being the only outstanding examples. Gartner may have had some notion of the kind of style that was 31. INTRODUCTION 15. Daniel Joseph Ohlmiiller, Maria-Hilfskirche, Munich (1831-1839). Engraving from Allgemeine Bauzeitung 1 (1842): pi. 480. Santa Monica, The Getty Center for the History of Art and the Humanities. 32. HERRMANN needed when in a letter to his friend Martinvon Wagner he expressed his belief "that something must lie between these strict Greek...rules and the purely emotive and romantic nature of the MiddleAges," something which,if it combined the two trends, would be best for the design of Christian churches.120 This waswritten in January 1828, three months before Hubsch's treatise setting out the new Rundbogenstil was published. Thirteen yearslater, Wiegmann commended the Romanesque Rundbogenstil as deserving "the most serious consideration [since] it lies between the two extremes of the antique and the medieval trend."121 While he believed that the task of the next era might well be the "conciliation of spirituality and sensuality,"122 he nevertheless was convinced with regard to their architectonic realization that it was quite impossible to "fuse organicallywhat was in fact incompatible."123 Three years later, the supposed incompatibility of the two architectural styles was questioned. A major theoretical work, Die Tektonik der Hellenen (The Tectonics of the Hellenes), had appeared. The author was Carl Gottlieb Wilhelm Botticher, pupil and admirer of Schinkel and, from 1844, professorat the Bauakademie at Berlin. Taking a fresh look at the two opposite systems, he came to the conclusion that the deep gulf that seemed to divide Greek from Gothic architecture could and should be bridged. His book, the first volume ofwhich waspublished in 1844, contained a comprehensive theory of the structural system of Greek architecture and the functional significance of its forms, a theory that despite Botticher's atrocious style and contorted reasoning, remained valid for a considerable time.124 In the opinion of its first reviewer, Ernst Curtius, "it contained the key to a new perception of ancient art."125 One excursus-the first of six inserted between the preface and the introduction-is of particular interest in the present context. In its twenty-sixpages, Botticher entered the discussion on styles.126 He started from what had by then been generally recognized as the basic factor determining style-the material. The extent to which the inertia ofthe material had been mastered was,he declared, one criterion for judging the value of a building. In early times, only monoliths were used.127 A steadily increased mastery over the material led step-by-step to the establishment ofa fully integrated structural system, which was still based on monoliths. The covering, which seemed to be suspended, rested on beams supported by walls and on rowsof freestanding columns with architraves to span the intervals between them. The structure of Greek monuments was confined to these elements. While this mastery of the material had clearly brought many advantages,the system remained restricted to the use of monoliths. The utmost "subjugation" of the material wasachieved when small blocks of stone, skillfully jointed, wereused in place of monoliths.128 This practice wasbased on a structural principle that was the opposite to the one that had governed Greek 33. INTRODUCTION architecture. Its most important achievement wasthe introduction of a new element, the vault. Botticher retraced the stages that marked the progress in technical skill: from the simple arch-far superior to the monolithic beam129 -to the vaulted ceiling and the abutments that resisted the pressure and released the wallsfrom anyfunction other than enclosure; to the skillful handling of counterbalancing forces;and, finally, to the invention of the pointed arch, which reduced lateral pressure to a minimum and, with the help of buttresses and flying buttresses, made it possible to span spaces of great width and even greater height. This, Botticher declared, wasthe highest point reached in the art of mastering the material. The structures thus created wouldhave seemed to the Hellenes, still bound to the use of monoliths, to be supernatural phenomena.130 After emphasizingthe high cost involved and the damage inflicted to the delicate Gothic forms, and thereby somewhat qualifying his admiration for the supreme skill with which the Gothic builder had mastered the material,131 Botticher turned to the second criterion on which to judge the value of a style. This concerned the "art-form" (Kunstform), as opposed to the "core-form" (Kernform).132 The criterion of "core-form" had only taken the material or mechanical side into accountthe degree of efficiency with which the part fulfilled its mechanical function. What was also needed wasto judge the effectiveness with which the functions were visually expressed. This wasthe task of the "art-form." The functions of the mechanical parts could be symbolized only by those forms that conformed to the way in which nature expresses the idea inherent in its creations; and only a style that adopted nature's analogous process could develop a universally true and eternally valid languageof forms. A style that deviated from the original source would have art-forms of only temporary validity. "The art-forms of Hellenic antiquity belong to the former category; to the latter those of the architecture of the medieval pointed arch."133 The Middle Ages never found universally valid forms. With respect to the core-form, the Greeks were artists who remained tied down to the mechanism of monolithic architecture, whereas the Germans were mechanics who mastered the material through technical contrivances. With respect to the art-form, the Germans were thoroughly energetic but uncultured mechanics whowere alienated from the refining (bildenden) influence of nature, whereas the Hellenes were highly civilized poets, drawinginspiration from nature itself. With Botticher thus extolling the unique qualities of the Hellenic art-formsin a poetic strain, it is obvious which side he favored. All the more surprising and remarkable, then, are the remarks with which he concluded his excursus.134 No longer, he declared, was it a question of whether to adopt the Hellenic monolithic system or the style of the pointed arch. Study of the monuments and a clear perception of the universally valid qualities inherent in both systems were needed in order to bring about a completely new architectural system 34. HERRMANN "based on a totally different material." Although Gothic architecture formed until now the most severe contrast to the Hellenic style, this tension would not last forever. It would be resolved by present and future artistic efforts. Just as Attic art had been the synthesis of the contrasting Doric and Ionic styles, so would German art be the synthesis of ancient and medieval architecture. The notion of resolving the contrast between Greek and Gothic styles through synthesis was first voiced by Schinkel in a memorandum published in 1811 concerning the rebuilding of the Petrikirche in Berlin, which had burnt down two years earlier.135 Schinkel referred to the "two poles" of antique and Christian art and "their fusion... into a synthesis of art," not only at this early period in his career but again at a much later date when his advice wassought by KingMaximilianof Bavaria.136 Synthesis of the two principles of ancient and medieval art was therefore a concept with which those close to Schinkel must have been familiar. Botticher's book, the first in which synthesis was mentioned again after the publication of Schinkel's memorandum, was an attempt to give Schinkel's vision a rational foundation from which a new architecture would eventually arise. What Botticher valued in Schinkel's workwelearn not from the Tektonik, where the latter is hardly mentioned, but from Botticher's speech in celebration of Schinkel's birthday in 1846. He admired him as the creator of "works in the severe style," worksthat reflected "the hieratic manner of Hellenic architecture,"137 and as the man through whom "Hellenic tradition found a new home" in Germany.138 He conceded that Schinkel had also built in the Gothic style but considered this a phase in his development after which he returned to "the source from which the Middle Ages too had sprung."139 Earlier on in his speech, Botticher had referred to an inner force through which "one aspect of architecture became prominent with the Greeks and the opposite aspect with the MiddleAges" and had proclaimed that this "process of development...must be continued by a future generation in a synthesis of both."140 At this point Botticher could have shown to what extent synthesis had already been achieved had he referred to one of Schinkel's latest buildings, the Bauakademie (Bauschule) in Berlin (fig. 16). His failure to do so underlines the difference between Botticher, the theoretician, and Schinkel, the creative architect. For Schinkel the future synthesis was not, as it was for Botticher, an interesting and fruitful concept but a task to be pursued here and now. The Bauakademie, begun in 1831,141 wascompleted within five years-a compact square block of four identical facades. It was four stories high, all of which, except the top mezzanine story, were vaulted. The structure consisted of a skeleton of strong piers whosefunction wasto withstand the pressure of the vaults, thereby reducing the weight that the walls had to carry, which in turn made the insertion of large 35. INTRODUCTION 16. Karl Priedrich Schinkel, Bauakademie, Berlin (1831-1836). Berlin, Landesbildstelle Berlin. windows possible.142 This structural system, obviously based on Gothic principles, was clearly expressed on the exterior through the rows of lesenes that extended from their buttresslike plinth right up to the main cornice. Horizontalbands that ran underneath the windows between the lesenes created the impression of a well-balanced framework superimposed upon the flamingred brick walls of the four identical facades. The terra-cotta ornaments under and above the windowsintroduced a classical element. It was Schinkel's great achievement to have fused these diverse structural, as well as formal and decorative, elements into an organic whole of great character. 36. HERRMANN However, the building defied easy classification and at times caused bewilderment. It wasdisliked, certainly for this reason, by Ernst Kopp, a Dresden architect. In his Beitrag zur Darstellung eines reinen einfachen Baustyls (Contribution to the Representation of a Pure and Simple Style), published in 1837 (that is, one year after the Bauakademiewascompleted), he declared that progressin architecture could be achieved only "by the consistent development of a basic type,.. .not by devising a bastard style as presented by the new Bauschule in Berlin."143 In contrast, the judgment passed by Kugler in his Schinkel biography of 1842 was positive, although the concluding words of a detailed description betray a certain amount of uneasiness vis-a-vis this "new and surprising" building.144 A few years later he believed it was "one of those rare creations that only a genius can achieve and that will exercise an influence for a long time."145 The Bauakademie became the focus of a discussion about the merits of the classical and the Gothic styles when, in the course of a parliamentary debate regarding a proposed increase of the institute's yearly subsidy, a recently elected member, August Reichensperger, seized the opportunity to vent his animosity against the classical dogmaand in particular againstthe commandingposition it held in the Prussian capital. The DeutschesKunstblatt published a verbatim report ofthe session, followed by a detailed refutation of Reichensperger's arguments. These were mainly directed against the alleged anti-Gothic bias of the school's teaching program but also against the outwardappearance of the building itself, whichin Reichensperger's opinionwould be more suitable on "the banks of the Ilissus than on those of the Spree." Since Reichensperger admitted that he was not acquainted with architectural problems, the editor of the journal felt free to enlighten him with the information that "the Bauschule in Berlin...is in no way an Athenian or Roman but, on the contrary, an independent and original building." Asto "its construction-if one has to compare-it rather tends toward the Middle Ages, as evidenced by the vaults and the strong projection of buttresses." It surely wasimpossible, he thought, "to look at this building... and fail to realizethat no other modern building exists that summarizesthe resultsof all preceding architectural periods in such an admirable way."146 In modern times, the Bauakademie has frequently been interpreted as foreshadowing, in structure and form, principles that govern present-day buildings. In this connection, it may be interesting to compare the assessments that twowriters, almost a century and a half apart, gave of the significanceof Schinkel's building. One author, writing in 1842, said: "The Bauschule is one of Schinkel's most important and admirable buildings. By developing an architectural style that sprang from the natural properties of brick, he not only made great progress but took a real leapforward. It is all the more to be regretted that he had so little opportunity to pursue this 37. INTRODUCTION path any further."147 Another author, writing in 1981, said: "Using his conventional material, Schinkel has presented us with something that could really be produced only much later with a different material. It isnot the actual technical progressthat is the Bauakademie's decisive aspect, but the artistic vision of an architecture forwhose realization a new technique had first to be invented."148 There had been two further attempts to overcome the rift that existed between those who adhered to the classical forms and those who believed that only the development of one of the medieval traditions wouldlead to a new style. The first of these attempts was spelled out in an article by Friedrich Wilhelm LudwigStier.149 In his opinion it was vital to demonstrate the invalidity of the notion, voiced by the opponents of the antique style, that the difference between Greek and Gothic style was conditioned solelyby the different building materials, monoliths as against small stones or bricks. This, he believed, even if not whollywrong,wasyet one-sided.150 He argued that when the field of study was widened-as it should be-to include both religious and secular buildings, it would become obviousthat a great varietyofbuilding materials were used in antiquity as well as in medieval times. Greek temples had wooden ceilings; Greek and Roman dwelling houses had architraves made from timber as well as columns built of brick.151 As for vaulting, this method of coveringwide spaces wasalreadygenerally used in the early period of imperial Romanarchitecture.152 While it was true that the church architecture of the Middle Ages was based on a structural system of vaults and arches, the secular buildings, dwellings in particular, were much freer in the choice of their structural elements. Instead of vaults, the low rooms had flat ceilings supported by beams made of timber, a material out of which whole houses were constructed. Since windows and other wallopenings werebridged by lintels, horizontality prevailed, sothat it would be right to saythat in the Middle Ages the architrave wasan element asfamiliarasthe arch had been in Romanarchitecture.153 From these observations, Stier drew conclusions for present-day architecture. Since dwellings and, as related types, public buildings formed the preponderance of all modern architectural activity and since structural as well as aesthetic reasons led to a horizontal covering,154 he thought it sensible and natural not to follow the principle ofthe arch but ofthe beam in the construction ofour buildings: in other words to follow the principle of the Greek style.155 However,as he stressed in the next paragraph, he wasnot opposed to archlike forms, whether used as vaults or in arcades: "We cannot do without either the architrave or the arch...in many buildings, both structural systems have to be used simultaneously."156 Stier's wide-rangingpersonal taste wasat the root ofthe tolerant attitude that he adopted here and throughout the article. While he acknowledged that the form of the arch stood out as an alien element within an overall horizontality, he neverthe- 38. HERRMANN less agreed with the general view that too many horizontal lines tired the eyeand that in the midst of all this monotony, the arch had a lively and exhilarating effect.157 Stier's attitude wasequally ambivalent when he dealt in the second part of his article with the forms that mark the styles. As to details, Greek and Gothic architecture used the same elements, except that they differed in the waythey were arranged and in the emphasis given to them in each style. Greek forms were meant to be seen at close range and were therefore appropriate for small-scale buildings; the opposite was true of the Gothic forms.158 The Gothic system of constructing vaults wascertainly the most perfectof all, Stier wrote,and wasto be recommended for monumental churches of great height. For smaller rooms, however,the simpler forms of Romanand Italian vaultswere more appropriate. An unbiased study of the forms of many parts of the Greek style, such as cornice, frieze, and architrave, wouldconfirm that these were not determined bystructural, but solely by aesthetic, considerations. Since the corresponding forms that we see on Romanesque and Gothic buildings were also only loosely connected with the construction, there wasno reason whywe should not take the Greek forms as models. "This much is certain," he exclaimed, "whatever a nation deemed to be appropriate, when it had reached a degree of general and artistic culture as high as the Greeks had reached at the greatest period of their existence, wecan imitate today without hesitation ...even where wecannot instantly see the particular reason for it."159 Of course, Stier hastened to add that he did not suggest copying these forms but developing them further by skillful adaptation. That the Greek style could be developed further-despite frequently voiced opinion to the contrary-was shown by successive artistic periods and in particular by the way in which forms that derived from the trabeated Greek system had been organically joined with Roman and Italian vaults.160 Turning to the Gothic details and observing the various forms of pillars and columns, of bases, capitals, and friezes, and of wooden beams used on ceilings or in dwellings generally, Stier was first tempted to believe that these Gothic forms would also be suitable for present-day architecture. However,on second thought, he decided against it and instead recommended taking the ancient architectural forms as a model. He suggested this for a number of reasons, the main one being (among the "many that keep running through myhead and myintuitive feeling") that an exterior with Gothic details would be out of harmony with a modern interior furnished in the English or French taste.161 In the last section, Stier dealt with the Rundbogenstil. Subjecting it to a lengthy critical analysis,162 he showed the misjudgment of those who for the last fifteen years had preferred this style as a model to Greek, Roman, and Italian art-who, 39. INTRODUCTION in short, had chosen to imitate "the barbaric offspring of a world," that of antiquity, whose splendid workshad for centuries been hidden by dark clouds and covered by frost.163 The ancient world had been the climax of a long historical development, the highest point that human civilization had ever reached. For that reason alone "the architecture of antiquity must remain the base for our art."164 Hejustifiedthis demand with the usual panegyric about the superior quality of Greek art and civilization. It was typical of Stier that having made a statement in which he clearly and unambiguously indicated the stand he took in the controversy about style, he at once tried to soften the effect of his seeminglyuncompromisingattitude. He ended the article by sayingthat if one looked at the matter less seriously,took into account the monotonous appearance of our modern cities, and ignored the aim of establishing basic laws for modern architecture, then he was quite happy to allow new buildings in the Gothic and Romanesque style, since it was pleasing from time to time to encounter buildings in modern cities that recalled the style of the distant past.165 If Stier's aim had been to bring an end to the clash between different doctrines by showing that many dogmatically upheld principles did not conform to the facts, he probably failed, since his tolerant attitude did not prevent him from repeatedly siding with the Greek ideal. We do not know how far Stier's deductions, based on a peculiar mixture of conventional choice and personal taste, appealed to his professional colleagues. They certainly infuriated Botticher, Stier's colleague at the Bauakademie,whowrote a long and devastating critical review.166 His main attack wasdirected against Stier's failure to establish the principles at the root of the construction of both styles, one signified by the architrave and the other by the arch. Tothat end, it would have been necessary to examine the extent to which the properties of the particular material had been exploited, howfar the material determined the forms ofthe structural parts, and how well these were interrelated in their function to form an integrated system. Only when this had been done wasit possible to compare the twosystems and come to a decision about their respective value. Stier, he found, did not deal at all with these important criteria. Instead he referred to the horizontal covering, the horizontal architrave, and the curved form of the arch and made the completely irrelevant observation that these parts were frequently made of material other than stone, particularly in secular buildings. What Botticher, the theoretician, found most reprehensible was the fact that in a study that purported to examine architectural principles, Stier throughout allowed his personal taste to be the final arbiter. Botticher wasexasperated. "Now at last," he exclaimed, "Mr. Stier has achieved what he wanted, namely to jumble everythingtogether, to mix the forms accordingto means and circumstances, fancy and inclination, and to use them as well as one was able or according to one's 40. HERRMANN taste. He set out to make a contribution to the establishment of the principle that should govern present-day architecture...and in the end did not further the matter a single bit."167 Stier, aware that he was no match for Botticher's intellect and sarcasm, never replied. Another attempt to ease the tension that existed among the manyfactions was Wolffs paper with the telling title "Ein Prinzip und keine Parteien!"("A Principle, NoParties!"), which he read in 1846 before the Architekten Versammlung.168 By studying the various trends, Wolff had found that although those who tried to attain a style took diverse routes, they nevertheless did share an initial approach: they all "sought to return to the original source and to follow the chief guides in our art, which are the construction and the nature of the material." In short, they wished to be truthful.169 Therefore, any material-blocks of stone, bricks, timber, and even iron-might be used, as long as one bore in mind that the nature of the available material wasthe principal basis for generatingform.170 Since it could be assumed that all architects accepted that the important role assigned to the material represented one ofthe foremost architectural principles, it became necessary to examine the qualities and characteristic differences of the various materials in detail.171 Wolff presented the outlines of such an investigation in the second partof the paper. First of all there wasthe natural stone or ashlar. Its most important quality was heaviness, which expressed structural solidity, a quality that we at once perceive through our inborn sense of gravity and equilibrium. This, however,wasnot the case with structures composed of a different material, where we immediately look for the means by which the parts are bound together. When wefind that mortar ensures and also makes visible the solidity of brick walls and that the components of timber and iron structures are firmly-and visibly-joined by bolts and nuts, only then does our sense for structural equilibrium feel satisfied. This need to reveal the manner ofconstruction furnishes us at the same time with an opportunity to provide exterior forms and decorative motifs, for instance by emphasizing the joints between the bricks or by applying bands and rose-shaped patterns on timber and iron structures. Wolff grouped the qualities of the variousmaterials under certain aspects-whether they werenatural, like stone and wood,or processed like brick and iron, whether they wereelastic or brittle, long lasting or easily perishable-all of which, of course, were qualities that clearly defined the forms that alone were appropriate to the particular material.172 While detailed research alongthese lines could certainly be of great value, it is difficult to see how it would lead to "a harmonious resolution of the present chaos,"the stated aim ofWolffs lecture.173 In fact, he himself ensured that his lecture would not have this effect by constantly evaluatingthe qualitative worth of individual materials. When he declared that "one glance is enough to know that the qualities of 41. INTRODUCTION ashlar and the forms derived therefrom conform most easily and naturally to whatever beauty demands";174 when, on the one hand, he recognized only in the trabeated system the full development of a harmony akin to music and, on the other hand, he invariably noted the shortcomings of all materials other than stone; and when, at the end of the article, he added a table in which stone and all its positive qualities were placed on one side and all other materials and their imperfect qualities on the other, then it is obvious that his call for a shared pursuit of truth had no bearing on the question of styles and could in no wayresolve the rift between the warring factions. In the same year Eduard Metzger wrote an article that wasmore likely to advance the quest for a style.175 The article is interesting in two respects. On the one hand Metzger's belief in architectural progress considerably sharpened the contrast that existed between the viewpointsof the two sides; on the other hand, this concept of historical development led him to envisage a stage that wouldbring the prospectof resolving the conflict much closer. As to the first point, the consequences of the two diverging views are highlighted through a comparison of Metzger's article with a paper by Wolff, published the previous year.176 Both authors, Wolff as well as Metzger, review the sequence of styles throughout history.They both start with Egyptianarchitecture, followed by the Greek, Roman, Byzantine (Romanesque), and finally Gothic styles. Wolff recognized steady progress from Egyptian architecture to the Doric and from there to the Ionic style.At that point the rising curve of progress stopped. The Ionic style, he declared, had been the acme of perfection.177 Everything that followed-from Roman to Gothic architecture-already contained the germ of decline. This was certainly the case with the architecture of the Romans, who abandoned the simple post-and-lintel system, replacing it by an unnatural support given by arches. This was also the case with the many subsequent styles, their structural systems derived from the vault, a vague form that produced an impression of restless immobility in sharp contrast with the classical repose of the ancient style.178 Somewhat reluctantly, Wolff admitted that the medieval builders achieved the counterbalancing of the curved line of the arch in a manner so perfect that it had never been surpassed, but then he pointed to the boundless willfulness that ultimately led that style also into decline. Asto the present, he noted with regret that the unfortunate idea of inventing a new style was still insisted upon, even though the possibility of attaining it had been precluded forever by the climax that Greek architecture had once achieved.179 Metzger started his review of the major styles by arranging them into three groups, allotting to each a different paradigm: the pyramid to WesternAsia and Egypt, the column to Greece and Rome, and the vault to the medieval systems that extended from the fourth century to the Gothic. The vault, Metzger declared, was 42. HERRMANN "the third and last art form known to the world," a statement that in its assurance equaled and almost echoed the conviction with which Wolff stated that the Ionic style was "the third and last stage in the development and progress ofour art."180 Unaffected by Wolff's pessimistic outlook for future development, Metzger's assessment of the course of history waspositive: "The vault wasdestined...to change the physiognomy of architecture completely.. .the battle between the column and the vault lasted for more than a thousand years and ended only in the late Christian period with the victory of vaulted architecture."181 This cursory review of the history of architecture confirmed Metzger'sconviction that progresswasa permanent process, that technical experiences always widened the field of the development of art forms, and that the fittest form of the present stage would become the form of the next stage.182 This evolutionary proto-Darwinism, supported byhis belief that the properties of the material determined style, helped Metzger to apprehend the significance of a new material, without which-as he had declared eight years previously183 -it would be ridiculous to talk of a new style. He now knew that the new material, from which the style of the future would develop, existed. It was iron! "I can well believe that iron construction is an abomination to the sculpturally minded architect," he exclaimed. Yetin his opinion, it would be more honorable to do battle with this new element-which was here to stay-than to resist it as long as possible and let future generations triumph.184 Metzger's perception of the future style was vague and did not reach far enough for him to visualize its development. Since history had taught him that a new style always arose from the last perfect style and since the monumental architecture of the fourteenth century had been the last great artistic development, the new form would derive from the pointed arch. As to structural changes resulting from the new material, he only referred in general terms to the powerful effect it would have on means of covering space, as shown by many examples in England, Belgium, and Russia of rooms spanned with iron.185 Only once was he more specific. Refuting the idea that iron constructions would look dull, he declared that on the contrary, he imagined such buildings to present "slim and graceful contours, striving upward, strong or delicate according to circumstances, and invariably intersecting the horizontal lines": a sentence that reads like a description of the first major German iron and glass public building, completed a fewyears before-Gartner's Trinkhalle (1834- 1838) at Bad Kissingen (fig 17).186 Consideringthe close relationship between Gartner and Metzger,187 it is quite possible that it wasthis building that made Metzger realize the important function that would devolve upon this material. However, unable to visualize the unique potentialities of the new material, all he could do was to reassure the reader (and himself) that "what he had outlined so far was sufficient to 43. INTRODUCTION 17. Friedrich von Gartner, Trinkhalle, Bad Kissingen (1834-1838). Engraving by Ainmiiller (1845) from Oswald Hederer, Friedrich von Gartner, 1792-1847: Leben, Werk, Schiiler (Munich: Prestel Verlag, 1976), 190, fig. 130. Photo: Courtesy Prestel Verlag. reveal the rich domain of the architecture of the future to the expert."188 When in the followingyear, 1846, Botticher wasasked to deliver a speech at the celebration of Schinkel's birthday, he chose as its theme the contrasting principles governingGreek and Gothic architecture, a subject he had dealt with a fewyears earlier in the first excursus of the Tektonik. He seized this opportunity to change his previous analysis significantly.He had since been alerted to the fact that "the totally different material," which he had formerly deduced on theoretical grounds as a precondition for a "completely new architectural system,"189 already existed and was 44. HERRMANN available for use as building material. In fact, a year earlier he had inserted in his long critical reviewof Stier's article a paragraphthat contained a remarkable predictionof the important role that, in his opinion, iron wasgoing to assume in the future development of architecture. He blamed Stier for not mentioning "what will gradually bring about a complete transformation of architecture, namely the use of a material... that in regard to...our architectural principle...will lift usjust as far above the Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, and Germans as arch and vault lifted the Romans above the Greeks with their system of architraves made of stone. Iron is that material."190 In Die Tektonik der Hellenen Botticher had evaluated the two styles according to two criteria, one being the thoroughness with which the material had been mastered, the other the perfection with which the art-form symbolized "the tectonic function of every part";191 he declared Gothic superior in the first respect and Greek superior in the second. Now,in 1846, he desisted from any evaluation but classified the styles according to the "structural force that emanates from the material"; only three forces could be used architecturally-relative, reactive, and absolute strength.192 Since the relative strength of the material wasthe principle of the Greek style and reactive strength that of the Gothic style, it was obvious that a new style could evolve only after the introduction of a material in which the third and so far unused force, namely absolute strength, was active. "Such a material is iron."193 Botticher knew, of course, that-as always happened when dealing with a condition still in the process of developing-in this case, too, he could do no more than give some hints about the look of the future iron style. Yetit seems that he had a somewhat clearer vision of that style than Metzger.He predicted that the new material would make it possible to construct roofs of "wider spans with less weightand greater reliability" than was"possible when using stone," while a minimum of material cost would produce walls of sufficient strength to make cumbersome buttresses superflu- ous.194 However, he had not changed his views with regard to art-forms. He still believed in the universal validity of the Hellenic forms and insisted that the forms appropriate to the new system would haveto accord with the principles ofthe Hellenic style. How this could be achieved, considering the particular character of the new system, he did not say; but, like Metzger,he was quite confident that anythoughtful person would not find it too difficult to work this out.195 As the production of iron increased even in backwardGermany,and as it became feasible to replace stone with iron as the basic element in major projects, some writers looked forward to such a radical change; others dreaded it. In 1842 Anton Hallmann, who,during a stay in England, had seen many examples of fully developed iron structures, went so far as to say that iron wasthe most important material of the present century and that people had begun to grow quite accustomed to it.196 In the 45. INTRODUCTION same year, the writer of a critical review of Klenze's newly completed Walhalla near Regensburg referred to the use of iron as a means of reducing the heavy weight of thick walls as a practice "known abroad for the last fifty years." In this connection he hailed "the new inventions and new ideas as the preliminaries to a new era," believing it to be the architect's "sacred duty to break the ground for modern art."197 The gulf that separated the two contesters, Wiegmann and Wolff, in their dispute about style wasreflected in their attitude towardthe new material.Wiegmann mentioned the evident fact that "within the last fewyears, through the frequent use of cast and wroughtiron, the development of a particular style characteristic of those materials had begun,"198 and he even claimed that the nineteenth century wasirresistibly drawnto use metal, a material that, being subject to completely different principles, had until nowhardly been taken into consideration.199 In reply,Wolff exclaimed in exasperation: "What prospects for a new style that...arise from such a foundation!"200 In his opinion, the use of iron next to stone violated the aesthetic sense, a sentiment that another writer, Otto Friedrich Gruppe, voiced in even stronger terms.Criticizing Hallmann's design for the Berlin cathedral, Gruppe concluded that the difference in character between an iron and a stone structure wasso pronounced that an architect intent on creating a work ofart would find the resulting difficulties insurmountable.201 It wasironic that the architect whosebynowfamous question had initiated the search for a contemporary style had the greatest misgivings about the state into which architecture seemed to be drifting. Almosttwentyyearshad passed since Hiibsch had published In welchem Style sollen wir bauen?ln 1847, in his second major theoretical work, he once again reviewed the different styles of the past. When he came to deal with the future state of architecture and his hope that there would be a smooth transition to that state, he wasalarmed to notice the "headlong rapidity of change" with its devastating consequences and warned that many symptoms "threaten the advent of a new and totally different period," where"instead ofthe monumental church, the sleek industrial hall built of cast iron will become the architectural prototype."202 The advent of the "iron age," confidently expected by Metzger and Botticher and anxiously apprehended by Hiibsch, did not materialize, at least not for many decades. One obvious reason for this delay was simply the lack of technical knowledge: not until the Bessemer process established modern steel production late in the century could architects make full use of iron's possibilities. But there wasanother and perhaps more cogent reason whythe road that promised to lead to a new era was not pursued and why history took another route. Throughout the discussion on style, there had been a very effective barrier, an inhibition by which the review of past periods wasconfined within well-circumscribedlimits. It excluded from the order ofgenuine styles any artistic activities that followed on 46. HERRMANN the Gothic style. All the participants in the dispute, of whatever faction, scorned the Renaissance, which, as they understood the term, comprised the architecture of the fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries. In their historical reviews, the Renaissance was never seriously considered. Renaissance was not what Wolff called a true style.203 Slavish imitation of the corrupt Roman architecture wasthe great mistake that the Renaissance had committed. The result was, according to Hubsch, that it developed into a "monstrous architec- ture"204 that led to the "periwig style"; the same would happen if we were to follow the example of the Renaissance and take Roman architecture as a model.205 Even the name "Renaissance"-rebirth of an ancient ideal-was suspect. It falsely implied a positive value and was therefore almost habitually given the prefix "so-called."206 Johann Andreas Romberg spoke of it as the "architectural carbuncle," as the "evil that is there and cannot be argued away."207 When Wolff tried to resolve the rift between the various factions, he declared that truth was the principle common to all styles "with the exception of Renaissance architecture, which in a waywasthe antithesis of all other trends, an architecture that tried to hide and, one could almost say, derided all truth."208 It wasfalse, because it had abandoned all the hard-wonstructural experience of previous centuries, and its buildings lacked structural unity.209 Ferdinand Wilhelm Horn went so far as to call the Renaissance a "cancer" that had slowly destroyed Germanic art ("the noble German oak") from within.210 Reichensperger condemned this "relapse into antiquity" as an insensate wish to "exchange magnificent Germanic robes for a harlequin's dress."211 Of course, since the two last-mentioned writers were ardent advocatesof a Gothic revival and considered a movement that had succeeded the Gothic to be their natural enemy, their testimony does not carry much weight.Allthe more significant, then, are the remarks made by so distinguished a historian as Kugler in the introduction to the last section of his Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte (Handbook of the History of Art), where he discussed the effect of the Renaissance on the arts. It was, he said, unfortunate that in contrast to medieval times the interchange between the various branches of the arts was destroyed. From then on architecture was practiced without relating it to the other arts. What made matters worse wasthe fact that the study of antiquity led back to ancient architecture and ancient forms. "In this way," Kugler declared, architects "trailed the ancient forms alongfor many centuries, without considering that these forms... could never lead to a truly living art." This, he concluded, "is the reason whyin modern times architecture plays only a minor role."212 This may sound like an extraordinary statement to come from a writer who took a considerable interest in the architecture of his owntime. However,for the purposesof his Handbuch, Kugler defined "modern times" as the period ofthe Renaissance, that 47. INTRODUCTION is from the fifteenth to the end of the eighteenth century, and his deprecating remarks were directed only against that period and not against the present. To learn how a critic who disliked the Renaissancestyle reacted to a major architectural event-the completion in 1841 of Gottfried Semper's Dresden Opera House (fig.18), with its supreme display of Renaissanceforms-we must turn to another writer, Johann Andreas Romberg, whose article "Konstruktion und Form" ("Construction and Form") has been previously mentioned. Rombergconcluded his observations on this subject with a critical assessment of Semper's building as an illustration of the faults that he believed the Renaissance architects had committed. He blamed them for imitating any forms they considered beautiful without considering the reason why the great masters of the past had used them-in short, for disregarding the great principle that consisted in bringing form into harmony with construction. Instead they reversed the relationship by first choosing any form they liked and only then searching for a construction to fit the form as best it could. Aboveall, the architects of the sixteenth century had committed the same mistake as the Romansdid when they tried to merge their ownvaulted system with the Greek trabeated one-although with the difference that the "modern" architects sought to imitate a style that alreadyconsisted of a mixture of two styles.213 Confronted now with Semper's building, Romberg was disturbed to note that the faults that he thought had been overcomewith the passing of the previous century appeared yet again-empty forms that werenot determined by the construction, the column treated as a decorative element, and, generally, the obvious readiness with whichthe corrupted Roman style had been adopted. He could not bring himself to approve the trend of which this building was an example.214 Romberg's criticism wasmotivated by his distaste for Renaissanceforms, an aversion he shared with manywriters. However,asthe yearspassed, the comprehensive radicalism that "annulled four hundred years of art history" (to quote Semper)215 was gradually lessened, and the architecture of the first century of the Renaissance was at least now thought to be worth studying. Stier recommended taking the works of Filippo Brunelleschi, Leon Battista Alberti, Donato Bramante, and Baldassare Peruzzi as models (but excluded those by Michelangeloand Andrea Palladio), because "there could be no better intermediate stage leading to antiquity than the Italian civilization of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries."216 Later, J. D.W. E. Engelhardt wrote an article "Uber die italienische Bauart zur Zeit der Wiedergeburt der Kunste (Renaissance)" ("On the Italian Way of Building at the Time of the Rebirth of the Arts [Renaissance]"), and againhis appreciation stopped short ofPalladio andVincenzo Scamozzi.217 This was also the picture Ferdinand von Quasi presented in the speech he gave in 1854 at the annual Schinkel celebration. It was, he said, a period of great artistic vitality, followed by the ostentatious forms of a Michelangelo,the stiff regu- 48. HERRMANN 18. Gottried Semper, Dresden Opera House (1838-1841). Zurich, Eidgenossische Technische Hochschule. larity of a Palladio, and utter decline in the eighteenth century.218 These by nowmore frequently expressed appreciations of post-medieval architecture, notwithstanding the qualifications that accompanied them, were an indication that by the middleof the nineteenth century the barrier impeding the artistic view had been lifted. Soon all limitations disappeared, and during the second half of the century architects felt free to choose from the wide field of architectural forms whatever seemed of use to them. Total stylistic pluralism had arrived. Of course, in the first half of the century, and especially in the three 49. INTRODUCTION decades during which the discussion on style had taken place, all those interested in present-day architecture were aware of havinga great number of stylesto choose from but at the same time realized that this breadth of choice hindered architectural progress. Metzger warned that to try to grasp the essential character of all styles created great confusion and obviously harmed true art.219 The confusion of styles was like a "second Babel"; anythingthat might result from this "architectural carnival" would be a badly conceived and wronglyplanned building.220 Aconstant complaint wasthat any style whatsoever was acceptable and that the arts of all nations and of all ages were adopted and used indiscriminately.221 "Having no style of our own," argued Gruppe, "webuild at one time in the Greek style, at another in the Gothic, then in the Byzantine, perhaps even in the Anglo-Saxon, Moorish,Chinese,Egyptian,andJapanese styles."222 From these and many similar statements one would assume that the ransacking of a multitude of styles was the common practice during these decades.Yet this was not the case. The real choice lay among three styles-the classical styleof Greece and Rome, the Rundbogenstil, and the Gothic. Phrases like "all nations and all times" turn out to be purely rhetorical. When L. Jatho, court architect at Kassel and pupil of Wolff, declared that nowadays "the results of the architecturalactivities of all times and all nations...are at the architects' disposal, who constantly make use of them," one may be inclined to think that this sentence signals eclecticism at its height. Yetfurther comments make it clear that by "adopting the traditional formsof preceding styles," he too meant no more than "gaining an insight into the worldof forms of antiquity as well as of the Christian Middle Ages."223 All this changed when the range of choice in the "world of forms" steadily expanded to include the great styles of European architecture from the fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries. Before this took place, it had been commonly held that the architectural history that mattered had started two thousand years agoin Greece and had come to a definite end in the fifteenth century with the Gothic. It seemed sensible to hope that out of one of the three "legitimate" styles that made up the whole architectural past, a new style would evolve that would meet the needs and express the ideas of the present. For thirty years this had been more than a hope. Notwithstanding the many doubts that were voiced, all who maintained the discussion on style felt that one day the goal would be reached. The ground on which this confidence rested was shaken when Hubsch's "carnival" became a reality and when younger generations yielded to the temptation to exploit the rediscovered fertilityof four hundred years of European architecture.224 The long and passionate debate on style thus ended not with the victory of the views of one or the other of the protagonists but-more unexpectedly-simply with the passing of time. 50. HERRMANN Notes Bracketed numbers following page numbers in the bibliographic citations below refer the reader to the translation of the cited text that appears in the present volume. 1. Mathilda Boisseree, ed., Sulpiz Boisseree, 2 vols. (Stuttgart: Gotta, 1862); E. FirmenichRichartz, Die Briider Boisseree,vol. 1,Sulpizund Melchior Boissereeals Kunstsammler (Jena: E. Diederichs, 1916). The Boisseree collection wasmoved in 1810 from Cologne to Heidelberg, where Goethe visited it in 1814 and 1815. Four years later, it wasmoved to Stuttgart to make it more accessible to the increasing numbers of people interested in medieval art. See W. D. RobsbnScott, The Literary Background of the Gothic Revival in Germany (Oxford: Clarendon, 1965), 161, 190, 281. Schlegel's work wasfirst published in Poetisches Taschenbuchfiir das Jahr 1806.Friedrich von Schlegel, "Grundziige der gotischen Baukunst," in Sdmmtliche Werke (Vienna, 1823), 6: 2. For a modern critical edition, see Hans Eichner, ed., Kritische Friedrich-Schlegel-Ausgabe (Munich, 1959), 4: 155-204. 2. Heinrich Hiibsch, Bau-Werke, 1st ser. (Karlsruhe: Marx, 1838), 1. 3. Ibid. 4. Ibid. 5. Ibid., 2. 6. Ibid. 7. Uber griechische Architectur (Heidelberg: J. C. B. Mohr, 1822), 17. For the dispute between Hiibsch and Hirt, see Barry Bergdoll, "Archaeology vs. History: Heinrich Hiibsch's Critique of Neoclassicism and the Beginnings of Historicism in German Architectural Theory," The Oxford Art Journal 5, no. 2 (1982): 2-12. 8. Hiibsch (see note 2), 2. 9. Christian LudwigStieglitz, Geschichte der Baukunst vomfriihesten Alterthume bis in die neueren Zeiten (Nuremberg: F. Campe, 1827), 467. 10. Heinrich Hiibsch, In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? (Karlsruhe: Chr. Fr. Miiller Hofbuchhandlung und Hofbuchdruckeren, 1828), 52 [99]. 11. Ibid., 13 [71]. 12. "Uber Styl und Motive in der bildenden Kunst," Kunst-Blatt 6 (1825), no. 1, 1-4; no. 75, 297-300; no. 76, 301-4. 13. Carl Friedrich von Rumohr, Italienische Forschungen (Berlin, 1827-1831), part 3, 195: "Von Herrn Professor Hiibsch zu Frankfurth erhielt ich, kurz nach Beendigung seiner fruchtbaren Reise durch Griechenland, die Seitenansicht einer Kirche in den Umgebungen von Athen—" 14. Hiibsch (see note 10), 5, 7 [66, 67-68]. 51. INTRODUCTION 15. Ibid., 18 [77]. 16. Ibid., 9-10 [68-69]. 17. Ibid., 21[79]. 18. Ibid., 9, 31[69, 86]. 19. Ibid., 42 [93]. 20. Ibid., 8 [68]. 21. Ibid., 51-52 [99-100]. 22. Heinrich Hiibsch, Die Architektur und ihr Verhdltnifl zur heutigen Malerei und Skulptur (Stuttgart and Tubingen: J. G. Gotta, 1847), 189-90 [172-73]. 23. Rudolf Wiegmann, "Bemerkungen tiber die Schrift: In welchem Styl sollen wir bauen? von H. Hiibsch," Kunst-Blatt 10(1829): no. 44,173-74; no. 45,177-79; no. 46,181-83 [103-12]. 24. Ibid., 177 [105]. 25. Hiibsch (see note 10), 28 [84]. 26. Ibid., 3-4 [65]. 27. Ibid., 6 [67]. 28. Kunst-Blatt 6 (1825): 298. 29. Franz Kugler,"Uber den Kirchenbauund seine Bedeutungfur unsere Zeit," Museum: Blatterfiir bildende Kunst 2 (1834): 1-8. 30. Ibid., 3-5. 31. Ibid., 4. Kugler cites the second paragraphon page 13of HiibscrTs treatise. 32. Ibid., 5. 33. Carl Albert Rosenthal, Uber die Entstehung und Bedeutung der architektonischen Formen der Griechen (Berlin, 1830), 1.On Rosenthal,see Eva Borsch-Supan, Berliner Baukunst nach Schinkel: 1840-1870 (Munich:Prestel Verlag, 1977), 27, nn. 109, 110. 34. Carl Albert Rosenthal, "In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? (Eine Frage fiir dieMitglieder des deutschen Architektenvereins)," Zeitschrift fiirpraktische Baukunst 4 (1844): 23-27 [113-23]. 35. Eduard Metzger, "Uber die Einwirkung natiirlicher und struktiver Gesetze auf Formgestaltung des Bauwerkes," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 2, nos. 21-26 (1837): 169-215. 36. Ibid., 170-71. 37. Ibid., 189. 38. Ibid., 194. 39. Ibid., 195. 40. Ibid., 196. 41. Ibid., 201. 42. Eduard Metzger, "Untersuchungen im Gebiete der Architectur," Munchner Jahrbucher fiir bildende Kunst 1(1838): 42-74; 2 (1839): 117-52. 43. Ibid., 44. 52. HERRMANN 44. Ibid.,51. 45. Ibid., 53. 46. Ibid., 42. 47. Johann Andreas Romberg, "Konstruktion und Form," Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst I (1841): 154-75. 48. Ibid., 156, 157. 49. Anton Hallmann, Kunstbestrebungen der Gegenwart (Berlin: Buchhandlung des Berliner Lesekabinets, 1842), 20. See Sabine Kimpel, "Der Maler-Architekt AntonHallmann (1812-1845)" (Ph.D. diss., Ludwig-Maximilians-Universitat, Munich, 1974). 50. Metzger (see note 35), 189. 51. Friedrich von Schlegel, Deutsches Museum (Vienna, 1812), 1: 283. See Eichner (see note 1), 1: 230. 52. Franz Kugler,Karl Friedrich Schinkel (Berlin:G. Gropius,1842), republished in idem, Kleine Schriften und Studien zur Kunstgeschichte (Stuttgart: Ebner &Seubert, 1854), 3: 313-14. 53. L. Jatho, "Uber das Streben nach einem neuen nationalen Baustyle vom Standpunkte des praktischen Architekten aus betrachtet,"Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst 1 (1847): 58. 54. Rudolf Wiegmann, "Polemisches," Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst 2 (1842): 499. 55. Johann Heinrich Wolff, "Einige Worte iiber die von Herrn Professor Stier bei der Architektenversammlung zu Bambergzur Sprachegebrachten(und im Jahrgange 1843 dieser Zeitschrift S. 301 mitgetheilten)architektonischenFragen," Allgemeine Bauzeitung (Literatur... Beilage) 2 (1845): 269 [144]. 56. Friedrich Eisenlohr, Rede iiber den Baustyl der neueren Zeit (Karlsruhe, 1833), 27. 57. J. D. W. E. Engelhardt, "Architektonische Zustande und Bestrebungen in Kurhessen," Zeitschrift fur Bauwesen 2 (1852): 219. 58. "Ein neuer Baustyl," Deutsches Kunstblatt 2 (1851): 145. 59. Leo von Klenze,Anweisung zur Architektur des christlichen Cultus (Munich: In der liter, artist. Anstalt, 1833), 9. 60. Johann HeinrichWolff, "Polemisches: Berichtigung,"Allgemeine Bauzeitung 12 (1847) (Literatur...Beilage) 3, no. 9: 180. 61. Hiibsch (see note 22), 190. 62. Ferdinand Wilhelm Horn, "Das Horn'sche System eines neugermanischen Baustyls," Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst 5 (1845): 244. This is a detailed resume of Horn's book, published in Potsdam in 1845 under the same title. See Borsch-Supan (see note 33), 192-93. 63. Johann Heinrich Wolff, "Polemisches: Entgegnung," Allgemeine Bauzeitung (Literatur...Beilage) (1843): 2. 64. Wolff (see note 55), 270 [144]. 65. Hubsch (see note 10), 18[77]. 66. Rosenthal (see note 34), 24 [116]. 53. INTRODUCTION 67. Rudolf Wiegmann, "Gegensatze: Die Tendenz des Hrn. Prof. J. H. Wolff und 'Die Christlich-germanische Baukunst und ihr Verhaltnifi zur Gegenwart von A. Reichensperger, Trier, 1845,' nebst einer Schlussbetrachtung," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 11 (1846) (Literatur... Beilage) 3, no. 1:4. 68. Rosenthal (see note 34), 24 [117]. 69. Carl Gottlieb Wilhelm Botticher, "Das Prinzip der hellenischen und germanischen Bauweise hinsichtlich der Ubertragung in die Bauweiseunserer Tage," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 11(1846): 113-14 [151]. 70. Hiibsch (see note 10), 51[99]. 71. Wiegmann (see note 23), 173[104]. 72. Rudolf Wiegmann, Der Ritter Leo von Klenze und unsere Kunst (Diisseldorf: J. H. C. Schreiner, 1839), 56. 73. Semper-Archiv, Zurich, MS.25 (1840), fol. 196. 74. Rudolf Wiegmann, "Gedanken iiber die Entwickelung eines zeitgemafien nazionalen Baustyls," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 6 (1841): 213. 75. Wiegmann (see note 67), 18. 76. Gottfried Semper, Uber den Bau evangelischer Kirchen (Leipzig: In Commission bei B. G. Teubner, 1845), 27. 77. "Uber den Bau christlicher Kirchen," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 12(1847): 283. 78. Rosenthal (see note 34), 27 [121-22]. As early as 1815 Schinkel had declared that the Gothic style had been interrupted in its prime ("nachdem die Gotik in der Bliite durch einen wunderbaren und wohltatigen Riickblick auf die Antike unterbrochen ward"; cited by G.F. Koch, "Schinkels architektonische Entwiirfe im gotischen Stil 1810-1815," Zeitschrift fur Kunstgeschichte 32 [1969]: 300). However, in contrast to the writers just quoted, Schinkel believed that the interruption was caused by the "wonderful and beneficial event of looking back to antiquity," and not by any adverse and unwelcome circumstances. See also BorschSupan (see note 33), 185, 201. 79. Wiegmann (see note 72),51. 80. Johann Heinrich Wolff, Allgemeine Bauzeitung (Literatur... Beilage) (1842): 451-58. Klenze's Sammlung architektonischer Entwiirfe was published in Munich in 1830; Wolff reviewed the first three installments. 81. Ibid., 451. 82. Wiegmann (see note 54), 498-500. 83. Wiegmann (see note 72), Preface, 9-10,41ff., 69ff. In fact, this treatise wasWiegmann's response to the-at times-critical remarks made byKlenze in his Aphoristische Bemerkungen (Berlin, 1838) on Wiegmann's own study of ancient painting technique, Die Malerei derAlten (Hannover: Hahn, 1836). 84. Wiegmann (see note 23), 182[110]. 54. HERRMANN 85. Wiegmann (see note 54), 499. 86. Wolff (see note 63), 1,4. 87. Ibid., 1. 88. Ibid., 2. 89. Wiegmann(see note 67), 1-19. 90. Ibid., 2. 91. Ibid. (On the effect of introducing iron as a building material see pages 43-46.) 92. Ibid., 2. 93. Ibid., 3. 94. Ibid., 4. 95. AugustReichensperger,Die Christlich-germanische Baukunst und ihr Verhaltnifi zur Gegenwart: Nebst einem Berichte SchinkeVs aus dem Jahre 1816, den CoinerDombau betreffend (Trier: F. Lintz, 1845). 96. Wiegmann(see note 67), 14. 97. Ibid. 98. Ibid., 18-19. 99. Wolff (see note 60), 178. 100. Ibid., 180. 101. Wolff (see note 55), 261-62 [132-34]. 102. Wolff (see note 60), 180. 103. Ibid., 181. 104. Ibid., 182. 105. Wolff (see note 55), 263 [135-36]. 106. Wolff (see note 60), 185. 107. Hubsch(seenote2), 2. 108. Hiibsch (see note 10), 47 [96]. 109. Ibid., 44 [94]. 110. Ibid. 111. Ibid., 46 [96]. 112. Hiibsch (see note 2), vol. 2, text to design of Polytechnische Hochschule. 113. Ibid., vol. 1,text to design of Trinkhalle. 114. Franz Kugler,Museum: Blatterfur bildende Kunst 3 (1835): 191. 115. Kunst-Blatt 13 (1832), 382. 116. Oswald Hederer, Friedrich von Gartner (Munich:Prestel Verlag, 1976), 114. 117. Klaus Eggert,Die Hauptwerke Friedrich v. Gartners (Munich:Stadtarchivs, 1963), 71. 118. The king was LudwigI (r. 1825-1848). Hederer (see note 116), 118. 119. For studies on the Rundbogenstil, see Albrecht Mann, Die Neuromanik (Cologne: Greven, 1966); Michael Bringmann, "Studien zur neuromanischen Architektur in Deutsch- 55. INTRODUCTION land" (Inaugural diss., Ruprecht-Karls-Universitat Heidelberg, 1968), 24ff.; and the chapter "Rundbogenstil" in the comprehensive work by Kurt Milde, Neorenaissance in der deutschen Architektur des 19.Jahrhunderts (Dresden: Verlag der Kunst, 1981), 116-27; also the recent article by Kathleen Curran, "The German Rundbogenstil and Reflections on the American Round-Arched Style," Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 47 (1988), 341-66. 120. Eggert (see note 117), 21-22. 121. Wiegmann (see note 74), 213. 122. Ibid., 214. 123. Rudolf Wiegmann, review of Schinkel's Werke der hoheren Baukunst, Allgemeine Bauzeitung (Literatur... Beilage), installments 1-3 (1841): 407. Wiegmann refers here to the incompability of Schinkel's classical style and the "spirit of the Christian Era." 124. Carl Gottlieb Wilhelm Botticher, Die Tektonik der Hellenen (Potsdam: Ferdinand Riegel, 1844); on this see Borsch-Supan (see note 33), 20-21, 101-2. 125. Kunst-Blatt 26 (1845): nos. 11-15, 46. 126. Botticher (see note 124), 1-26. 127. Ibid., 1-8. 128. Ibid., 8-17. 129. Ibid., 11. 130. Ibid., 16. 131. Ibid., 18-21. 132. Ibid., 21-26. 133. Ibid., 23. 134. Ibid., 26. 135. On the notion of synthesis, see Norbert Knopp, "Schinkels Idee einer Stilsynthese," in Beitrage zum Problem des Stilpluralismus, ed. WernerHagen and Norbert Knopp(Munich: Prestel Verlag, 1977), 245-54. 136. Ibid., 247,252; Curran (see note 119), 361; Borsch-Supan(see note 33), n. 116 and p. 188 137. Botticher (see note 69), 112[149]. 138. Ibid., 121[1611. 139. Ibid., [1601. 140. Ibid., 117[156]. 141. In 1831 the Bauakademie (founded in 1799) wasgiven the name AllgemeineBauschule, by which it was known until 1849, when its name was changed back to the original one. See Adolf Borbein, "Klassische Archaologie in Berlin vom 18.zum 20. Jahrhundert," in Deutsches Archaologisches Institut, Berlin und die Antike: Aufsdtze (Berlin: Deutsches Archaologisches Institut, Wasmuth, 1979), 110. In 1945 the interior of Schinkel's building was destroyed by firebombs. Although the shell remained intact and work to restore it began in 1960, a subsequent decision to pull it down was carried out despite strong protests. Only the main porch, 56. HERRMANN with its decorative framework, remains; it now serves as the entrance to a restaurant. 142. Regarding its structure, see also the technical report bythe supervisor Emil Flaminius, Allgemeine Bauzeitung 1(1836): Iff. 143. Ernst Kopp, Beitragzur Darstellungeines reinen einfachen Baustyls (Dresden, 1837), 1: 1. 144. Kugler, 1842 (see note 52), 326-27. 145. Franz Kugler, Kunst-Blatt 27 (1846):61. 146. The debate wasreported and discussed in the following journals: Deutsches Kunstblatt 2 (1852): full report of the debate on 10, 17,and 24 April with editor's comment on 24 April (quoted passage on p. 142), on 24 Maya letter by Reichensperger replying to editor's comment and a further reply by editor (quoted passage on p. 177). Zeitschrift fur Bauwesen 2 (1852): 233-37, report ofthe debate and editorial critical comment.Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst 12 (1852): under the heading "In welchem Style sollen wir bauen?" 192-304, prints Reichensperger's speech and the editorial comment from Zeitschrift fur Bauwesen verbatim, together with another reply by Reichensperger published in Organfur christliche Kunst. 147. Otto Friedrich Gruppe, Carl Friedrich Schinkel und der neue Berliner Dom (Berlin, 1843), 52. 148. Erik Forssman,Karl FriedrichSchinkel: Bauwerke und Baugedanken (Zurich:Schnell & Steiner, 1981), 207. 149. Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig Stier, "Beitrage zur Feststellung des Principes der Baukunst fur das vaterlandische Bauwesender Gegenwart: Architravund Bogen," Allgemeine Bauzeitung 8 (1843): 309-39. OnStier (1799-1856), seeThieme-Becker,Allgemeines Kiinstlerlexikon (1938), 13:44; see also Borsch-Supan (see note 33), 19-20, 683-89. 150. Stier (see note 149), 310-11. 151. Ibid., 311-13. 152. Ibid., 317. 153. Ibid., 318. 154. Ibid., 313. 155. Ibid., 319. 156. Ibid., 319-20. 157. Ibid., 321. 158. Ibid., 325-26. 159. Ibid., 327-29. 160. Ibid., 330-31. 161. Ibid., 331-34. 162. Ibid., 334-38. 163. Ibid., 336. 164. Ibid., 338. 57. INTRODUCTION 165. Ibid., 339. 166. Carl Gottlieb WilhelmBotticher, "Polemisch-Kritisches," Allgemeine Bauzeitung (Literatur...Beilage) (1845): 281-320. 167. Ibid., 297. 168. Wolff, "Ein Prinzip und keine Parteien!" Allgemeine Bauzeitung 11 (1846): 358-67. On this paper see Milde (see note 119), 184. 169. Wolff (see note 168), 359. 170. Ibid., 361. 171. Ibid., 362. 172. Ibid., 362-64. 173. Ibid., 361. 174. Ibid., 365-66. 175. EduardMetzger, "Beitrag zur Zeitfrage: In welchem Stil man bauen soil?"Allgemeine Bauzeitung 10(1845): 169-79. 176. Wolff (see note 55), 255-70 [125-45]. 177. Ibid., 261-62 [132-34]. 178. Ibid., 263-64 [134-37]. 179. Ibid., 268-69 [142-44]. 180. Metzger (see note 175), 172; Wolff (see note 55), 262 [134]. 181. Metzger (see note 175), 172. 182. Ibid., 175. 183. Metzger (see note 35), 189. 184. Metzger (see note 175), 176. 185. Ibid., 177. 186. Hederer (see note 116), 189ff.; Metzger (see note 175), 178. 187. Hederer (see note 116), 244-45. 188. Metzger (see note 175), 177. 189. Botticher (see note 124), 26. 190. Botticher (see note 166), 293. 191. Botticher (see note 124), 17-18, 23. 192. Botticher (see note 69), 116 [154]. 193. Ibid., 119[158]. 194. Ibid. 195. Ibid., 120 [159]. 196. Hallmann(see note 49),71. 197. J. Fuss, Allgemeine Bauzeitung 1 (1842): 531, 533. 198. Wiegmann (see note 67), 16. 199. Ibid., 2. 58. HERRMANN 200. Wolff (see note 60), 187. 201. Gruppe (see note 147), 119. 202. Hiibsch (see note 22), 190-91,195 [172-73,175]. 203. See page 15and note 101. 204. Hiibsch (see note 22), 175. Hiibsch used this and many other equally derogatory terms when he devoted chapter thirteen of Die Architektur (see note 22, 168-85) to a highly critical examination of Renaissance architecture: "sham architecture" (p. 169), "dishonest and untrue" (p. 178), "slavish imitation of Roman architecture" (p. 169), "accumulation of thick blocksof stone and heavy barrel vaultings" (p. 172). 205. Rosenthal (see note 34), 25 [118]. 206. Wiegmann (see note 23), 173[104]: "...a so-called style...arbitrarily...pieced together from the fifteenth century onward"; idem (see note 67), 18: "artistic jargon called Renaissance"; Botticher (see note 69), 115[153]; Wolff (see note 55), 269 [143]. 207. Johann Andreas Romberg, "Fragen an die deutsche Architekten- und IngenieurVersammlung zu Halberstadt," Zeitschrift fur praktische Baukunst 5 (1845): 8. 208. Wolff (see note 168), 360. 209. Hiibsch (see note 22), 171, 178. 210. Horn (see note 62), 245. 211. Reichensperger (see note 95), 26 and 61, where he speaks of the Renaissance as the "pseudo-heathen growth that like ivy crept up on the mighty medieval building, entangling all forms." 212. Franz Kugler, Handbuch der Kunstgeschichte (Stuttgart: Ebner & Seubert, 1842), 624. The phrase about "trailing [or dragging]along the ancient forms" wastaken up by Metzger in 1845 (see note 175), 176. On Kugler's treatment of Renaissance architecture see Eva BorschSupan, "Der Renaissancebegriff der Berliner Schule im Vergleich zu Semper," in Gottfried Semper und die Mitte des 19.Jahrhunderts (Basel: Birkhauser, 1976), 162. 213. Romberg (see note 47), 159-60. 214. Ibid., 165ff. 215. Semper-Archiv,Zurich, MS. 178, fol. 61. 216. Stier (see note 149), 337-38. 217. J. D. W.E. Engelhardt, "Uber die italienische Bauart zur Zeit der Wiedergeburt der Kiinste (Renaissance)," Journal fur die Baukunst (1850): 209-51. 218. Cited by Borsch-Supan (see note 33), 73. 219. Metzger (see note 42), 52. 220. Wolff (see note 168), 358; Hiibsch (see note 22), 186 [170]. 221. Wiegmann (see note 74), 208; Wolff (see note 60), 179. 222. Gruppe (see note 147), 75. 223. Jatho (see note 53), 54-55. 59. INTRODUCTION 224. Michael Bringmann concluded his excellent study of neo-Romanesque architecture with the observation that a clear distinction must be made between the architecture ofthe first and the second fifty years of the nineteenth century, because the early decades-apart from a comparatively moderate application of historical styles-had little in common with the strong impact of stylistic pluralism after the middle ofthe century: Bringmann (see note 119), 330-31. Borsch-Supan (see note 212), 163, also comments on the change in the art-historical conception of the Renaissance that took place around 1850. 60. HERRMANN STYLE IN WHAT SHOULD WE BUILD? THE GERMAN DEBATE ON ARCHITECTURAL STYLE Johann Anton Ramboux, Portrait of the Architect Heinrich Hubsch, ca. 1820. Drawing. Darmstadt, Hessisches Landesmuseum, no. HZ 4288. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? HEINRICH HOBSCH 1. PAINTING AND SCULPTURE HAVE LONG SINCE ABANDONED THE LIFELESS IMITATION OF ANTIQUITY. Architecture alone has yet to come of age and continues to imitate the antique style. Although nearly everybody recognizes the inadequacy of that style in meeting today's needs and is dissatisfied with the buildings recently erected in it, almost all architects still adhere to it. Most of them really believe that the beauty of architectural forms issomething absolute, which can remain unchanged for all times and under all circumstances, and that the antique style alone presents these forms in ideal perfection. Many architects who fully recognize the inadequacy of using the antique style nevertheless dishonestly insist on it out ofvanity,since they happen to have erected several buildings in this style. Like false prophets, they claim the privilege of an inspiration—that of beauty—for which they claim to need no justification. Other architects, it is true, admit that it must first be proven that the architecture of the ancients, as universal architecture, can be as appropriate and beautiful to us as it once was to the Greeks. To this end they go to enormous and self-deceiving lengths to construct a system of specious arguments. In this way only a very limited field is allotted to sound reason and, then, only in matters of detail; as soon as reason tends to come too close to essentials, it is quickly rebutted by an authority. A few architects recognize the pointlessness of all this sophistry, but not knowing anything better to put in its place, they lose heart and despair of ever establishing firm and adequate principles ofbeauty. Hence, they think it impossible to create a suitable architectural style through reflection and—in sheer desperation, as it were—continue to build in the ancient style, where at least they have the sanction of an obsolete authority. Whoever looks at architecture primarily from its decorative aspect and perhaps asks himself why he likes one form ofleafwork on a capital better than another will easily despair of the possibility of establishing reliable principles. Yet whoever starts his investigation from the point of view of practical necessity will find a secure base. Now, since the size and arrangement of every building is conditioned by its purpose, which isthe main reason for its existence, and since its continued existence depends on the physical properties ofthe material and on the resulting arrangement and formation of the individual parts, it is obvious that two criteria of functionality \Z< weckmdfigkeif\— namely, fitness for purpose (commodity) and lasting existence (solidity)—determine the size and basic form of the essential parts of every building. These formativefactors, derived from function, are surely asobjective and asclear as they could possibly be. Yet they do not determine the size and basic form of the essential parts with any exactness. They present a path that is firm yet not too narrow: though clearly indicating the main direction, it still allows some latitude. For instance, ifwe know the number of people that a hall isto hold, this does not exactly determine the proportion of its length to its width, let alone to its height. Or, ifwe know the load that a pillar made of a certain material and prescribed height has to carry, this does not give us its exact diameter in inches and lines. An open-minded person must admit, furthermore, that the factors controlling the shape ofthe less essential parts are by no means immutable and that they become less objective the more detailed they become. Thus, for instance, the reason why a column shaft of uniform diameter is preferred to one whose upper part is formed differently from its lower part will not be asself-evident asthe principle that 64. HUBSCH the shaft of a column must first of all stand vertically. Should one then ask oneself which oftwo shafts ismore beautiful, one with twenty flutings or another with twentyfour flutings, it would be hard to give a reason for one's choice. In this waysome uncertainty and arbitrariness ariseseven with regard to the principal forms and appears from a narrow theoretical point of view to degrade the art. This isthe reason for the frequent efforts ofaestheticiansto construct systems to account for the specific detail of architectural forms—efforts that must unfailingly result in empty sophisms. If we take a more practical view, our courage revives. Though it is true that this uncertainty and arbitrariness make art into a plant that easily runs to seed, there are limits; and the danger is really not so great as may appear at first glance. The beauty of a building, like the beauty of a landscape or a symphony, is composed of many elements, all of which are not of equal importance in relation to the whole. Just as in a landscape a tree here or there might be dispensed with or replaced by another tree or in a symphony a few passages might be changed without affecting the overall impression, sotwo quite differently decorated capitalscan be equally beautiful on the same column; and even its size, though more significant, is not as important as,say,the distancebetween columns, while the latter in itsturn isnot as important as the basic form \Grundgestali\ of the building as a whole. This does not mean, however, that the choice of less essential elements can be left to blind chance but rather that here the artist's talent and taste are mainly called upon. Whoever viewsthe monuments of different nations impartially will find that much has been formed, asit were, unconsciously, in accordance with the artist's individual taste, and that this in itself isthe cause of a lively diversity that ceaseswhen we try to place those forms for whose development no objective laws exist under the tutelage of conventional rules. Therefore, weshould not demand what has never existed and neverwill. We should be content that the formation of the main parts proceeds from objective principles and, for the rest, let the artist's taste have free rein. Unbiased reflection that starts from this point ofview and always verifies its own conclusions historically, by reference to the principles that truly emerge from the monuments of earlier times and nations, isbound to lead to a satisfactory conclusion. Even someone who still despairs ofever reaching such a conclusion must at least concede that a sound beginning has been deduced from obvious needs; he may then stop halfway, if he believes that the investigation is no longer sufficiently objective. 65. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? 2. We shallfirst define the concept ofstyle. In its familiar usage—for instance, all Greek monuments are said to be built in the Greek style, all Moorish monuments in the Moorish style—style means something general, applicable to all buildings of anation, whether intended for divine worship, for public administration,for education, etc. The most general requirement for all kinds of buildings is the enclosure of aspecific space in such a way that it is accessible and well lit; and just as its interior provides shelter, its exterior, if it is to last, must itself be protected against the weather. Hence, we arrive at the following essential parts of a building. The enclosure requires a ceiling and its supports, which also serve either as enclosing walls or solely as supports for the ceiling. The last condition occurs when either the space that needs to be covered is too wide for a ceiling to span it unsupported from wall to wall or when simply a ceiling and no lateral enclosure—or at least not one on every side—is required (that is, an open portico). Piers or columns spanned by connecting members are then set up—in the first case between the enclosingwalls and in the second case at intervals along the open sides. The spanning members stretching from pier to pier provide the ceiling with continuous support, like awall. Their height varies according to circumstances, but their width usually corresponds to the thickness of the piers. If the ceiling is in the form of a groin vault, its ribs serve as the spanning members. The door and window openings that are set into the walls to provide access and light are spanned in the same way as the piers; above them, the walls continue up asfar asmay be required. For exterior protection, the ceiling is covered by a roof (which at times is one and the same);the projection of the roof constitutes the main cornice—at least, in most cases the cornice is a continuation of the surface of the roof. These are the essential parts of a building. They relate to the most basic task of architecture and must therefore be regarded as the elements of style. When examined historically,these architectural elements are indeed of a general character, retaining the same form in different cases. For that reason, the difference between the monuments of one nation and one period lies in the number and manifold combinations of walls, ceilings, piers or columns, doors, windows, roofs, and cornices, according to their various purposes. All vary in size and in degree of decoration: all are more or less enriched according to the importance of their purpose. Aside from these variations, however, the same type reappears again and again, even in its decorative detail. Finally, it is evident that specific needs also affect the style in that those 66. HUBSCH of one nation, despite local variations, display a common character when compared to the total needs of another country. The present investigation is,therefore, concerned only with the general form of architectural elements and their combination, not with their specific form and combination in relation to the functions of particular buildings, which is the artist's primary task and bears witness to his talent. This investigation aims at giving the artist an explanationof the essence of his subject and at providing a secure base for criticism, since in this sphere we differ so much that we do not even agree on the ABC'S. 3. Having now established what is meant by style, we must examine its manifestations in the various original forms of architecture. The principal formative factors, as can be deduced a priori as well as confirmed historically, are climate and building material. In the first place the climate, as already mentioned, gives a uniformcharacter to the needs of one country as compared with another. Thus, a mild southern climatemakes lessexacting demands than the rough climate of the north; all eastern buildings appear to be somewhat open in contrast to the anxiouslyclosed-in buildings of the north. Secondly, the exterior will be given greater or lesser protection, depending on the rigor or mildness of the climate; this becomes apparent in the form of the roof and of other elements. Egypt, with no rainfall at all, has buildings without any roof; the medieval buildings of the north have tall roofs, and all their projecting parts are formed in such a way that the water can easily run off. The materialsthat chiefly affect the form of the architectural elements are wood and stone. Even in countries where stone is scarce, the more important buildings use stone not only for wallsand piers but alsofor the members that connect the piers or span the openings, wherever these are exposed to weathering. Often, even large interior ceilings are made of stone so as to last. The basic form of walls and piers is not much affected by the nature of the material, since they have to stand vertically, whether made ofwood or stone, and have the same thickness from top to bottom. The material has a greater effect on the ratio of thickness to height; this is determined by the resistance of the material to compression and buckling (reactivestrength). Therefore, height, load, and all other circumstances being equal, a pier of hard marble is made thinner than one madeof soft tuff. The material has its greatest effect on the main form and on the proportions 67. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? of spans and ceilings. Wood grows straight to a considerable length and offers strong resistance to fracture. Therefore, it is in the nature of a wooden ceiling always to be rectilinear and to have a low ratio of thickness or height to unsupported span. Stone usually breaks into cube-shaped or slablike pieces and is rarely—in many places never—found in long beamlike pieces. Stone also has little resistance to breaking (relative strength), to which must be added its considerable specific weight. It, therefore, cannot sustain its own weight over a wide horizontal span and must be thicker than a wooden beam of equal length. Yet there are great differences among the different kinds of stone. In Greek monuments, mostly built of marble (the stone with the highest elasticity and relative strength), all column lintels (architraves) and soffits consisted of stone beams and plates, so that there were continuous horizontal spans in stone like those in timber, sometimes ofvery light proportions. It should be noted that the architectural proportions so far dealt with should more correctly be called technostatic proportions, asdistinct from the main proportions that derive from the purpose of the building. These latter proportions include the ratio of length to height, both in the building as a whole and in its individualrooms and sections: for instance, the relation of the width (depth) of a portico to its height. In countries where the availablevarieties of stone are brittle and not found in great lengths, attempts were soon made to span the opening with more than one piece of stone. The crowning result of these attempts wasthe vault. With vaulting, aided by mortar, the widest openings could be spanned with pieces of almost any size, however small. The vault not only greatly influenced the form of covering, since its construction naturally followed a curve rather than the straight line of a single lintel, but also changed the form of the piers and walls on which, by resting on them, it exerted a lateral pressure. Thus almost every architectural element changed—in other words the whole style—so that it may be said that essentiallythere are only two originalstyles: one with straight, horizontal stone architraves;the other with curved vaults and arches. 4. Building, being a skilled craft, is of course bound to improve with time. With the advance of civilization, the needs and demands for comfort expand, asdo the tasksof architecture; and so people try to carry them out more efficiently and with less mechanical work. Apart from making improvements in the treatment of the material as such, they seek in the first place to obtain the necessary solidity through 68. HUBSCH ingenious construction rather than through a mere accumulation of heavy masses. In the second place, even with unchanged methods of construction, they seek to reduce the mass of material, which with the growing need for comfort becomes more and more of an impediment: successive new buildings become lighter while remaining safe. In other words, lighter technostatic proportions are applied than in those older buildings that by their continued existence have proved to be of sufficient strength. This empirical progress in technostatics—or, if I may thus express it, in technostatic judgment by eye—must happen all the more regularly because a nation's previous experience isnever lost but isconstantly available to succeeding generations through the buildings that survive. That this progress regularly occurs isshown by the monuments of nations known to us. It is even transmitted through a succession of nations in contact with each other. Of course the pace of progress, impeded in any case by the need for stability and by the force of custom, differs considerably among nations. It depends, in general, on how flexible and unimpeded their evolution has been and on the effect of political events. In Egypt where the priests had many workmen at their disposal, progress was very slow: all buildings were massive, and no real difference is apparent even over many centuries. The freer Greeks advanced more quickly; thus, the monuments built one to two hundred years after Pericles used considerably less material than those built before Pericles. With the Romans—who took over the architecture of the Greeks and who, having far more diverse needs, were necessarily more concerned with spaciousness and economy of material—lightness steadily increased to reach its peak in the medieval style. Although reduction of mass and bolder construction (that is, lighter technostatic proportions) apply equally to lintels, ceilings, walls, and piers, this is less obvious in ceilings and walls, whose thickness can hardly be seen, than it is in freestanding piers with longer unsupported spans that lead to wider and bolder spacing. This is, of course, especially apparent in porticoes, where the distance between piers is least conditioned by the particular purpose of the structure. To summarize this section: while it istrue that the technostatic proportions of the architectural elements mainly derive from the material, they constantly evolve with advancing architectural experience and, in fact, are subject to permanent change. The basic forms of the architectural elements were set out in Section 3, above. In what follows we shall explain how the progress of architecture as a fine art affects the specific shape of these elements. 69. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? 5. Architecture should not be called a sister of the other arts but rather their mother; this is the art that leads the way and educates the others. It begins by satisfying the most pressing needs; only later, when it produces buildings intended for a higher purpose, does it gradually rise to the level of a fine art. These buildings soon come to be planned on a grander scale with greater richness and elaboration of workmanship than is considered appropriate for utilitarian buildings. Once necessity is satisfied, there ispleasure in free creation: ornaments are added in the belief that these unnecessary adjuncts, the offspring of idleness, will in some way enhance the value of the building. A more refined treatment of architectural elements also gradually arises through the greater delicacy of form, which together with the technostatic progress already mentioned tends to do away with all mass that is unnecessary for strength and that detracts from convenience. Yet this is done as a kind of spontaneous play, so that solidity and convenience act more as indirect than as direct regulating factors. With every human activity, the force that leads to perfection already contains the germ of decline; and so it is with architecture. On the one hand, all its parts evolve in accord with the regular progress of technostatics, of ornament, and of formal delicacy; on the other hand, it loses that truly moving simplicity and unpretentiousness of the early buildings, which never represent more than what they are. Embellishment extends beyond its true sphere, which is that of adorning (not overloading) the essential forms or elements. Yet more pernicious than this decorative overloading isthe fact that the architectural elements themselves, whose origin and use are rooted solely in their true purpose, and which are meaningful only insofar as they fulfill this purpose, acquire an immediate appeal simply asskillful workmanship [Machwerk]. In time (as it happens sooften that one forgets the goal while on theway) the architectural elements are treated more and more as embellishments or, rather, as means to make the building seem more important than its true purpose can ever make it. First, the elements are applied to placeswhere true purpose does not call for them and where they serve a sham purpose only; then, even this fictitious purpose is dispensed with, and the architect rests content, as it were, with the sham of a sham: with completely dead forms such asblind windows, doors, etc. In order to allay misgivings, a wholly conventional aesthetic forum ispostulated, which suppliesthe argument that this or that essential form arises, at least initially, from some real purpose. The decline ofart ishastened in no small measure by the fact that quite independently, technostatic experience is constantly growing, and daring combinations of forms, driven to extremes by the craze for variation,become progressively easier to execute. 70. HUBSCH In reality, the sequence does not, ofcourse, proceed with such regularity. Some steps are brought about very quickly by political events, while at times there is even a step backward to something better. Yeteveryone who surveys the monuments of past peoples must recognize the process just described. Unfortunately, the last stage isalwaysthe most fully completed, whereas the earlier and better stage is rarely found to have developed undisturbed, since few nations have enjoyed a harmonious development from childhood to manhood without the intrusion offoreign influence. Most nations, in fact, are like cuttings transplanted in alien soil. Consequently, architectural embellishment isusuallytraditional and, because of its arbitrary nature, could hardly be otherwise. It is part of human nature to hold on to the familiar, not only in matters of arbitrary choice but also in necessary matters; and so, when the forms of the elements become more refined, much is accepted—or rather retained— that might, by its nature, have been given a characteristic form in line with current circumstances. Such anomaloussurvivalsare not easilyfound in the Greek style, but they frequently appear in the earlier phase of the medieval style, aswe shall see. 6. Apart from the natural formative factors discussed in the preceding three sections, no others are essential. Where other, conventional factors are active, everyone will regard this activity as hostile to the consistent and harmonious development of style as soon as it goes beyond the decorative sphere. At one time, it was a common deduction in support ofu xylomania" that style was indeed a result of the namedfactors—not in the way these act at present but asthey did in primeval times when the first hut wasbuilt, the event whereby original sin wasfully brought into architecture.1 Surely, all this no longer needs to be refuted. For this, I refer the reader to my book on Greek architecture. If we wish, therefore, to attain a style that has the same qualities as the buildings of other nations that are accepted asbeautiful and are much praised by us, then this cannot arise from the past but only from the present state of natural formative factors—that is:first, from our usual building material; second, from the present level of technostatic experience; third, from the kind of protection that buildings need in our climate in order to last; and fourth, from the more general nature of our needs based on climate and perhaps in part on culture. Our material—to refer for the present to Germany alone and to deal with stone buildings only—is sandstone or other types ofstone, which, with regard to their 7\. IN WHAT STYLE SHO ULD WE BUILD ? relative strength, are far inferior to marble. An unsupported beam, even with nothing but its own weight to carry, can with rare exceptions span at most a distanceof twelve feet, and there is always the fear that it might break at the onset of a severe frost. If a stone has to carry a load in addition to its own weight, then it must be almost as high asits unsupported length. Even ashlar blocks resting on each other in a massive wall are scarcely made longer than three times their height; if their beds are weighted more toward the edges than at the center, then the edges will chip. How different it is with marble in this respect! On Greek monuments, in order to reduce the work of dressing, only a narrow strip along the edge of each stone was finished to a close fit, while the middle part was somewhat hollowed out and left rough, sothat the load rested entirely on the edges. Porticoes with ceilings constructed entirely of marble can be found to have had unsupported beams of up to twenty feet with their height barely one-seventh of their length. The unsupported beams over the portico ofthe Temple of Theseus in Athens, which are still in place, have awidth that is only one-eleventh of their length of twelve and a half feet. We, however, must construct a relieving arch above a window lintelwith only three feet of unsupported length to free it of all dead weight. Regarding the level of our technostatic experience, we have the bold constructions of medievalbuildingsbefore us. In this respect we far surpassthe Greeks. Any expert today would without hesitation (provided the circumstances are not unfavorable) set up a pier or a column with a diameter of only one-eleventh its height, whereas with even the slimmer Greek columns the diameter is rarely less than oneeighth its height. Furthermore, he would support a ceiling by constructing arcades (fig. I) with one-third fewer piers or columns than would be needed in a Greek colonnade of the same length —even one that does not have the narrowest intercolumniation (fig. II). Thus, by using vaults to support the ceiling, we require far less than half the mass of material that was used in Greek architecture without having to fear a collapse, which with our brittle stones is a constant threat in horizontal spans. Moreover, since an arch needs only small blocks of stone, whereas the stone beam of an architrave must be made from one block, and since transport and setting up is comparatively very expensive, a colonnade of normal dimensions costs about four times as much as an arcade with equally rich decoration. No expert will deny that this disparity greatly increaseswith larger dimensions. 72. HOBSCH Heinrich Hiibsch. Engraving from Heinrich Hiibsch, In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? (Karlsruhe: Chr. Fr. Miiller Hofbuchhandlung und Hofbuchdruckeren, 1828), table 1. London, Victoria and Albert Museum. 73. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? Heinrich Hiibsch. Engraving from Heinrich Hiibsch, In welchem Style sollen wir bauen? (Karlsruhe: Chr. Fr. Miiller Hofbuchhandlung und Hofbuchdruckeren, 1828), table 2. London, Victoria and Albert Museum. 74. HOBSCH 7. In our northern climate, more care must be taken to protect buildings against rain or snow than in the south. The pitch ofthe roof, normallycovered with slateor perhaps even with tiles, must be steeper than on Greek monuments. Furthermore, the projecting upper surface of cornices or other similar parts must have a distinct slope for the water to run off,unless for some reason something quite different is required, as is the case with exterior flights of stairs or any projections on which something is intended to stand. If the surface, AB (fig. Ill), of a projecting cornice is not sufficiently sloped, this surface itself will suffer from weathering. Decay will soon set in, mainly because rain falling onAB will splash back toward the mortar coating BC, willremain on AB after the rain has stopped, and will rise up the mortar coating BC. Furthermore, the water will run along the underside of the cornice toward the wall D and will cause damage here too, unless a groove is hollowed out on the underside of the cornice, forcing the water to drip down at E. For today's needs we require buildings of a size that the Greeks did not remotely approach in their buildings. How small would even a fairly large Greek temple look next to the parish church ofa modern town! The widest span constructed in stone was the ceiling of the Propylaea at Athens (cited by Pausanias as a rarity), and that came to twenty feet. How insignificant this iscompared to our interior spaces, which, moreover, require both the slenderest pillars and the widest possible spans! If, for instance, a church were divided by two rows of columns into a nave and two aisles and the columns were arranged even according to the widest Greek intercolumniation (see fig. II), people in the aisles would be unable to see the altar or the pulpit from the third column on—even in churches where the nave is quite wide. The aisles would be of no use, unless the columns were at least as slender and as widely spaced as in fig. I. The carriage entrances of even our ordinary houses, let alone of city gates and other public buildings, must have a width that is never found on Greek monuments with the sole exception of the central intercolumniation of the Propylaea at Athens. A portico should provide either a dry carriageway or a shelter from the weather for pedestrians. In the first case, the piers or columns must be placed well away from the wall, so that the carriages can pass through, and the portico should not be higher than itswidth or depth to prevent the wind from driving the rain onto the wall. Even the widest Greek intercolumniation would not have the desired 75. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? effect. In the second case, a portico can offer reasonable protection from draft only when no more than one side is open and the other three are enclosed by walls: not when three of its sides are open, aswasusualwith ancient porticoes. Altogether, porticoes rarely suit us, because they take away light from the interior where it is most needed. For the Greeks, on the other hand, a public building without richly decorated porticoes wasscarcely thinkable, and windows were rare. Furthermore, almost all our buildings consist of several stories, whereas all Greek monuments known to us had only one story. Therefore, the formative factors that condition today's architecture are completely different—indeed almost diametricallyopposed to those that affected the Greek style. There can hardly be a greater contrast. To reiterate the main pointsof the preceding two sections: the Greeks had good stone ofgreat relativestrength that made a continuous horizontal span possible, whereas we have brittle stones that permit only the shortest horizontal spans, a shortcoming that is, however, amply compensated by the vault. The Greeks had few needs and made comparatively modest spatial demands, whereas we have many needs, one of which is the greatest possible spaciousness. Greek buildings had splendid colonnades and no windows and were only one story high, whereas ours rarely have porticoes, have manywindows, and are several stories high. 8. And yet we build in the Greek style, especially of late. How is this possible, ifwhat I have said up to now istrue? The riddle will be solved by inquiring into what kindof Greek style we build and how far this satisfies our needs. The discussion of the first point will best proceed from a short reviewof the main qualities of the Greek style and its later development under the Romans. Up to the time of Pericles, Greek monuments consist of the following forms. In the beginning the columns A (fig. IV) are less slender and more closely spaced than later; the tapering toward the top ismore pronounced to produce greater structural stability. The capital B, especially in the Doric order, projects considerably to reduce the unsupported length ofthe architrave. The architrave Cconsistsofbeams that reach from the center ofone column to that ofthe next. Above the architraveisa frieze D, of equal height, consisting of smaller pieces; its surface is decorated. Above the frieze there projects a cornice E. At about the height ofthe cornice isthe soffit or ceiling F, of about the same thickness as the cornice. This ceiling is constructed by 76. HUBSCH laying beams at regular intervalsacross the narrowest span to be covered. The spaces between the beams are spanned with stone plates, again across the narrowest span. All parts that belong to the covering, such asthe architrave, frieze, cornice, and even ceiling, are classified under the term entablature. Since the wall is thinner than the architrave laid on top of it, it is strengthened (as at G) to create a pilaster (anta). This pilaster is as wide as the architrave only on those sides where the architrave rests on the wall, whereas it isvery narrow on side /, where this width is not required. Greek architecture excelled in simplicity of composition, in the consistently even development of all its forms, and in wise moderation in the use of decoration. The first quality arose from the simplicity ofthe plan. This cannot be imitated once the plan becomes more complicated. But the rest could and should be achieved under all circumstances. A sure instinct that was not tempted by the many means available to cover every empty surface with decoration or to make unlimited openings everywhere; an instinct that did not seek to impress merely by massiveness and by dimensions beyond the purpose ofthe building but one that rather wished to impress by a precision and neatness of execution such aswe can hardly imagine today—such an instinct ought to inspire the art of all ages! Anyone who has seen the buildings of Pericles' time must acknowledge that no other people ever lavished such fine qualities on its monuments. Everything was built in a white, mirrorlike, polished marble. The blocks that made up the columns were finished so carefully that even now in many places the joints are not detectable. The walls were built of dressed stones; their various joints alternate with a delightful regularity that forms the most appropriate decoration. These monuments are like fair, ever-blossoming flowers. When Plutarch saw the Temple of Minerva [Parthenon] and the Propylaea on the Acropolis of Athens five centuries after they had been built, he said, "They seem to have a soul untouched by age." The same can be said now, two thousand years later, because any destruction these works have suffered was caused not by the might of time but by barbarian hands. 9. This was the stage that architecture had reached at the time of Pericles. Yet those who believe that the architecture of later times remained unchanged or even place the Roman imitationsin the same category asthose works are lacking in discrimination. The principle of early Greek art was truth in the fullest meaning of the word. Every architectural element was formed and used in a way consistent with its true 77. IN WHAT STYLE SHO ULD WE BUILD ? purpose: columns appeared only where they actually supported an entablature, pilasters only where the wall had to be strengthened to receive the wider architrave. The form of the pilasterswas also different from that of freestanding columns, in line with their different characters. The architrave appeared where it was really needed to carry the ceiling and ended where it met a wall, because from that point on the ceiling could rest on the continuouswall. An architravethat rested in its entire length on a wall was pointless, because its height and form were governed only by the need to make it strong enough to span between columns. The cymatium M(see fig. IV) of the cornice, which projected slightly beyond the edge of the roof, bordered the inclined sides of the pediment only to prevent water from dripping down at the front; it stopped at the corner TV, so that the water could drain off freely along the sides of the building. I could cite many examples to prove that no architectural element was used superfluously. Each wasformed to fit its specialpurpose and wasnever remodeled in order to be (asone saystoday) in better harmony with some other form or to create a kind of blind symmetry. Once the elements had been consistently arranged, the decoration was spread over them, not in order to conceal one or another of the elements but to adorn them. The monuments of Alexander's time and those up to the conquest of Greece by the Romans make it evident that a decisive shift had taken place away from the natural instinct that I mentioned before. Unaffected simplicity, or the sight of a plain wall,was no longer to be endured. Accordingly, in placeswhere a solid wall was required and a portico was inadmissible, we often find outlined on the wall a surrogate colonnade whose columns and architraves project by only half their thickness. These engaged columns appeared soon after Pericles. They represent the first great conventional lie in architecture, one that subsequently became the preferred practice because it allowed architects to indulge in very large dimensions, now that the architrave carried nothing and could therefore be made up of any number of small pieces. Furthermore, pilasters were no longer applied only where the architrave rested on the wall but were repeated along the entire length of the wall, each opposite a freestanding column. Above them ran an entablaturein low relief, to form a kind of symmetry with the real colonnade placed before it. However, the genius of Greek beauty was not to give way so easily. We can still enjoy the unity of even very late Greek monuments—where at least the horizontal covering was maintained—and also their tasteful, though too profuse, decoration, especially when we compare them to the distortion that Greek architecture endured at the hands ofthe Romans. Even before the conquest of Greece, the Romans had employed the arches that proved so advantageous to the construction of their 78. HOBSCH extensive aqueducts and roads. Here the piers could be placed wider apart, andsmaller stones could be used than with the horizontal covering. Although the Greeks were slavishly imitated in everything, including their architecture, the horizontal covering was bound to be unsatisfactory, especially because, for the multitude of Roman needs, the types of stone available were unsuited to this form of construction (at that time the Romans did not yet use marble for building).Vaulting wastooadvantageou. to part with, despite all the Grecomania, and that iswhy the whole of Roman architecture is nothing else but a conflict between these two heterogeneous modes of construction: the arch and the Greek column. At the beginning, when Greek models were still fresh in people's memories, the colonnade appeared on the outside of the temple still in its pure form, untouched by vaulting.The vault wasallowed in the interior, where it was indispens able if a continuous stone cover was wanted. Yet soon the vault also intruded on the exterior, directly between the columns, thereby taking over their essentialstructural function. This caused the colonnade to degenerate into mere sham and show architecture, as for instance on the Theater of Marcellus and the Colosseum in Rome (fig. V). Here the entablature is carried only by the arches, not by the engaged columns. Those engaged columns are so shallow that they hardly differ from painted ones and cannot pass for real architectural elements. Looked upon as decoration, they in no way represent wealth but only the utmost poverty of imagination. The work of the stonemason—a pier, an architrave, etc.—when used simply as decoration is the most wretched thing of all and isinferior to the most monotonous leafwork, not to mention the higher forms of painting and sculpture. Is not the plain lateralwall K of a Greek temple (see fig. IV) with its frieze of figures in bas-relief a more precious work than a wall on which the money needed for a bas-relief has been squandered on a row of pilasters? Figures IV and VI show clearly that the Greek colonnade and the arcade serve the same purpose and that the use of both in the same place (as in fig.V) must therefore be considered the most unfortunate pleonasm possible. 10. From the descriptions given in the two preceding sections, it is easy to see how we must build today if we intend to imitate the Greek style. Will our architecture then have an advantage over Roman architecture? On the contrary, it must be inferior, because the Romans at least had the same climate, had similar though more extensive needs, and in later years mostly built in marble. Since the Greek monuments 79. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD? have become better known, people nowadays assume that we are far superior to the Romans. However, our recent architectural improvements, which are thought to be so important, concern only matters of detail. What does it matter ifwe exchange the shallow profiles of the Roman cornice for the stronger Greek profiles, or choose a Greek Corinthian capital instead of a Roman Corinthian capital, or generally copy individual parts of the colonnade not from Roman but from Greek monuments? This isto catch the small fry and let the big fish swim away. Could we, like the logical Greeks, manage with the horizontal covering and dispense with vaulting? Architects try hard and do not shrink from roundabout waysofconstructing the outsideof the building, at least, without vaults—lest the crass inconsistency become too obvious. At the sight of an arcade together with a colonnade, the latter less than half as spacious but requiring two or three times the quantity of material, any child would ask, "Why not use an arcade here too, instead of a colonnade, since after all we do know how to build vaults?" But even if we manage to build a facade without vaulting, the contradiction is not disposed of but only deferred. For how amazed will the spectator be when, having squeezed through the narrow colonnades outside, he is confronted inside with spacious vaults! Also, is a single story sufficient for our buildings asit was for the Greeks? What a Scylla and Charybdis we encounter with a building of several stories! If we simply place several rows of columns one above the other, we do not achieve a whole but a pile of as many buildings as there are stories, because the main cornice that unites everything below into awhole islacking. The cornice ofthe uppermost rowof columns cannot be taken for a main cornice, since in depth and projection it is no different from those ofthe lower rows ofcolumns. The alternativeapproach, whereby a building of several stories is given only one row of columns extending up to the roof, is equally wrong. It gives the impression that the columns originally existed on their own and that little stories were later built between them. In Italy ancient monuments have actually been used in thisway. Everything must yield to the column. Of all parts the column alone is thought to embody beauty, and it isused in such profusion that the grand impression of free space is completely lost. Besides, architects try to make the columns as big as possible in the belief that this will enhance the impression, whereas it usually has the opposite effect. True colonnades can rarely be used on the exterior of our buildings, since there is hardly ever a reason for open porticoes. That iswhy architects usually resort to an architecture of bas-relief, that is, to engaged columns and pilasters. 80. HOBSCH 11. If an unbiased person is amazed at how such a makeshift and mendacious style can possibly be called Greek and thought to be beautiful, then his amazement will reach its highest pitch when he realizes to what extent convenience, solidity, and economy have been sacrificed for the sake of all this patched and borrowed finery. Whereas the architect, in periods when a natural style prevailed, was well acquainted with the needs of his time, which he regarded as the prime mover of his creations, today he considers our many needs as so many enemies and as an impediment to his designs. A perfectly ordinary carriage entrance, as required in any sizable dwelling, embarrasses him when designing one for a grand palace. For how can he combine such spaciousness with his Greek portico? Although one entrance is in fact already too much for him, either he talks himself into believing that two are needed, which he shifts to the wings (provided these can be spared from having porticoes), or he places a single entrance on the lateral facade. This then hasthe result that the important facade isthere for the minor people arriving on foot, while important people arriving by carriage must make do with a minor facade. Ifthe building can be placed on a high podium, then some place for the gateway may be found at the foot of the colonnade.2 Yetshould a portico be demanded in which carriages can turn, then the architect must simply despair of solving the problem with stone architraves. In a church built in the antique style, even with slender and widely spaced columns, people in the aisles from the third column back cannot see the altar or pulpit, asalready mentioned. Furthermore, does a Greek portico provide the slightest protection in our climate? Since a portico based on Greek proportions is not very deep in relation to its height, the slightest wind will drive the rain and snow between the columns to the back wall. How can it be said that architecture has enjoyed a great resurgence in the last decades? The revived imitation of ancient architecture in Italy in the fifteenth century was confined in the beginning only to minor details. When whole rows of columns and pilasters were eventually imitated, the purpose of the building primarily determined its principal forms, to which fragmentsof ancient architecture were superficially attached. That iswhy church interiors by Brunelleschi3 and most of those built in the following century are just as satisfactory in use as the older churches built in the medieval style, because they still consist of a vaulted nave and side aisles supported by very slender and widely spaced columns. Their only defect is that the principal forms are not configured and decorated to gowith the interior but that an architecture derived from an alien way of construction has been tacked onto 81. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? them asbest it can be. Brunelleschi and the architects who followed him could never have passed all at once from almost unlimited medievalspaciousnessto the constraint that went with ancient colonnades—much though they extolled the beauty ofancient architecture. After all, the unprejudiced majority ismainly concerned with the practicality of the building. When it becomes obvious that what passes for architecture, far from being the creator and friend of function (as it ought to be and as all architects proclaim), actually regards function as its worst enemy, then such an architecture must seem to ordinary people assomething they can do without. The arbitrary application of antique architecture simply as decoration soon caused facades to become nonsensical,especiallywhen the abstract lineofbeauty became the dominant principle. The models had hitherto been Roman monuments, which themselves frequentlydisplay similarabsurdities. Eventually,the discoveryof the best Greek monuments opened people's eyes to the abominationsthat had been committed. Architects recognized the senselessness of applying isolated fragments and tried to imitate the integrated whole; but then, ashas previously been explained, they forgot the present in their concern for the past. Is the new point of view preferable to the earlier one? A building with a sham facade but with an interior that conforms exactly to its use may sooner find admirers than a building with aso-called pure facade for the sake ofwhich the whole interior iseither too high or too low and whose function is everywhere impaired by Greek proportions. 12. As to the expense entailed by building in the ancient style, it quite often happens that the main building costs less than the porticoes. It has already been said, in Section 6, that a portico in the Greek style, completely uselessto us, costs at least four timesas much as a useful and just as richly decorated hall formed with arches. This stands in strong contradiction to our architects' usual complaints today over the financial restrictions they experience when executing their designs. Architects have never had unlimited resources at their disposal. Yetwhen huge sums are spent on cumbersome columns and heavy cornices running around the entire building (becausethe architect has the vague feeling that this would look well), then of course nothing is left over to construct vaultsin buildingsthat ought to be fireproof or to use ashlar quoins to protect the corners from damage. The outlook for durability isnot much better. Unsupported stone beams easily fracture during our cold winter months. They willwear badly, since agemakes 82. HUBSCH the stone crumble. Buildings in the antique style are so badly protected from the weather that it would be a good thing to cover such offspring of a southern clime with a special structure during the rough season, in the same way that one preserves exotic plants. Without sinning too much against the antique form of moldings, one cannot give the projecting cornices either a slope above or a drip molding beneath to shed the water from the wall (as was shown to be necessary in Section 7). Consequently, the rendering above and below the cornice will soon perish, and water will easily penetrate into the joints and drive the stones apart. The very gentle slope of ancient gables is not possible for our slated or even tile-hung roofs. For that reason, architects are often forced to resort to a metal roofing that easily costs ten to twenty times as much. Otherwise, the considerable depth and comparatively modest height of our buildings (that is, if they are built in the ancient style) make the roofs too conspicuous, which of course is incompatible with the essence of this style. Therefore, architects often have recourse to flat roofs, which, even when covered with copper plates, are in constant need of repair. Otherwise, the timber construction underneath is quickly ruined. Many similar shortcomings could be cited. Yetour best witnesses are the recent buildings themselves, which without exception and in just a few decades have reached such a state that they will hardly survive the beginning oftheir second century. 13. Having explained in detail that present needs and the northern climate make it impossible for architects to fulfill their task in the Greek style and that sofar all attempts to imitate this style correctly or to fulfill these needs satisfactorily have failed, we now return with all the more confidence to the conclusions that according to Section 6 follow from the present state ofthe formative factors. According to these conclusions, the main quality by which the new style differs from the Greek style isthis: insteadof the horizontal stone lintel, we have a vault; or rather, instead of a colonnade with a horizontal entablature we have an arcade. The second definition better illustrates what is meant by the statement without detracting from its general validity, because the several forms of the support and its covering are visually the most conspicuous and constructively the most important ones that lend every style its distinctive character. Consequently, as soon as arches are used, the horizontal stone covering plays only a subordinate part. It is used only to bridge a short opening of no more than three or four feet; or, ifwider, it isrelieved of its great load by an arch placed above it. 83. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? Some people who no longer doubt the fitness for purpose of such a style may yet demand to be convinced, at their leisure, that it will also be beautiful. It is true that this would be the right place to explain what does and does not constitute architectural beauty. However, in that case I would have to speak too much of feelings, and this treatise would take on too subjective, and thus too vulnerable, an aspect. The field of artistic feeling is a chaotic domain ruled by a great deal of outworn and feebleminded stubbornness and little sincerity, since it isone in which one can never be caught in a lie. Besides, there isno end to the human capacity for self-deception in matters of feeling. Although time can easily change cool reflection into warm emotion, this cannot be forced to happen all at once. Thus the wisest course for the time being will be to avoid a direct discussion of where to find beauty, a subject on which opinions are much divided, and to present the argument indirectly, as follows. Although not everything that is fit for its purpose [zweckmaftig] is beautiful, anything that isunfit cannot possibly be considered beautiful, unless one wants to turn architecture into a kind of crocodile paradox in which the impossibility of a satisfactory solution isinherent in the premise.4 Therefore, those who cannot contradict the conclusions reached so far must decide to bid farewell to the antique style and accept at least the basis of the new style, unless they can show that the line of the arch isabsolutely ugly or less beautiful than the straight horizontal line. This cannot possibly be proven, even by those who adhere fanatically to the theory ofthe abstract line of beauty; for, asiswell known, according to this theory the serpentine or wavelike line isthe most beautiful, and this line iscertainly closer to the line ofthe arch than to the straight line.5 Once the basis ofthe new style has been accepted, the rest may be reconciled with the most diverse views on beauty. Anyone who seeks beauty only in decoration and regards it as a process of formal creation quite independent of function (with the main forms or architectural elements only providing a kind offramework) will be able to overornament an arcade as readily as a colonnade. True, he will have to choose objects that really are decorative and not be obsessed with pilasters and entablatures in relief, which even in his own view cannot be beautiful. For if the main forms (which certainly include elements such asentablatures and piers) cannot be beautiful, then fictive versions of those same forms cannot be beautiful either, unless beauty were to be defined as the very opposite of function. Those who seek beauty mainly in symmetry, rhythm, and proportion can find these qualities in an arcade just as well as in a colonnade. Those who see architectural beauty more in function—that is, in the characteristic manifestation and generous fulfillment of purpose, rather than in individual forms—will of course get along best. 84. HUBSCH For an authoritative justification of the new style, we refer to the fact that within the last few decades medieval art has generally become much appreciated, and hardly anyonestill dares to revileit. Now, a form ofarchitecture that already shares a basis—namely, the dominant method of construction, which is vaulting— with the medieval style will therefore never turn out to be very different; nor will it readily be considered ugly. Finally, it may be an eye-opener for some to learn how inconsistent they are in their feelings about beauty. Even the most single-minded adherents of the antique in architecture can be heard to speak highly of the characteristic forms of rural buildings that have developed quite naturally from their actual purpose and traditional construction. Yet when it is a question of urban buildings, the same people will hear nothing of a natural influence of the present but seek to achieve beauty through a slavish imitation of a completely alien past! 14. Having established the basisofthe new style in every respect, it remainsto define more precisely the form ofthe architectural elements. For this we turn once againto history in order to observe the gradually changing forms of vaulting and how they influenced every element. We shall trace this development up to the time when all reminiscences of ancient architecture disappeared and the form ofeach element wasderived in an organic way from the vault, a stage finally reached in medieval architecture. We left Roman architecture in Section 9 as a sort of hybrid in which two mutually exclusive methods ofconstruction—the Greek colonnade and the arcadeappear at one and the same place (see fig. V). Later on, as the rules deduced from earlier monuments became more and more obsolete and the influence ofthe present became more dominant, the entablature was reduced to such a degree that only a short piece of it, a sample as it were, projected from the wall above each column, with the vault resting directly on it, as in the Baths of Diocletian and the so-called Temple of Peace.6 In the end this piece also disappeared, and the arch rested directly on the capital of the column. As far asI know, this construction first appeared on the Palace of Diocletian at Spalato but was soon applied in all the earliest Christian churches in Italy, especially in Rome. In keeping with the new form ofworship, these churches had to accommodate the whole community, and they were therefore extraordinarily large by comparison with the cellae ofthe pagan temples. They were usuallyoblong in form with a 85. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? ceiling supported by two or four rows of piers, thus creating two or four side aisles. At the front were one or more entrances and frequently a spacious vestibule. At the opposite end, the naveterminated in a great semicircular recess that formed the choir, in front ofwhich stood the altar and the presbytery with pulpits. The navewaswider and higher than the aisles. The difference in height made it possible to havewindows in the wallsabove the arcades. The first churches were based on the Roman lawcourts, which had a similar form and were known as basilicas;this name was transferred to the newly built Christian churches. At the time when these were built, the aesthetic rules that governed antique architecture had become extinct along with the political reign ofpaganism, so that architects, quite unbiased, resolved the main function of the building in the most direct way, using the technology of the time. Notwithstanding the decline of antique architecture, technostatic experience had not been lost: architects dared to build high and heavy walls on a row of slim supports. Nevertheless, this style incorporated many heterogeneous details reused from antique monuments. In particular, there was a plentiful supply of columns made of excellent stone, and these were used as supports. For the sake of space, these columns were placed as far apart aswas considered safe and were joined by arches made from brick, then the commonly used building material. Rarely, such architraves as came to hand were used instead of arches. This row of slender arches carried the wall on which the ceiling of the nave rested. The wall contained arched window openings that were usually filled in, not with glass but with thin marble plates pierced with small holes, probably covered with a transparent material. The naves of some basilicas had a double row of columns one above the other, with the upper row forming a gallery. The ceiling wasa very simple timber construction; it was identical with the roof (which even today in Italy isvery carefully preserved within a double layer of tiles), so that the whole timber framework of the roof wasvisible. Among the churches known to me that were built in the basilicanstyle, the church ofSanta Balbina on the Aventine in Rome isthe only onewhere no antique fragments were used and where the vaulting style appears in its purest and simplest form.7 This moderately sized church originally had a nave and two side aisles. The piers as well as the arches and walls are built of brick. They are square and rather thick and are set wider apart than are the ancient columns in the other churches. The walls that rise above the piers, wherever an intermediate tie or principal rafter rests on them, are strengthened by piers or pilasters projecting from the outside face of the wall. The windows are almost aswide asthe span of the arches. The cornice of the nave is embellished by a course of small corbels; that of the choir is formed, asis usual in this style, with several courses of brick laid in different directions. 86. HUBSCH The type of Christian church that evolved in the eastern Roman Empire was different from the one just described. There, better political conditions made a greater expenditure possible. Not content with a wooden ceiling, the whole interior was vaulted. The cupola waschosen because it had the advantage of needing neither the use of centering during construction nor sustaining wallsasthick asthose neces. sary for barrel vaults of the same span. The central part of the church wasthen laid out on a circular plan with four short wings, sothat the whole did not form a rectanglelike the basilicas but a Greek cross, yet with arcades in the four arms like those in the basilicas.The first and at the same time the largest ofthese buildings in the early Byzantine style was Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. It served as a model for many other churches and waseven imitated by the Muslims,for whom the dome stillranks as a main feature of their architecture. For all the Tightness ofthe arrangement and design ofthe earlyByzantine style, the initial use of many ancient fragments and, later, the mechanical copyingof their forms led the style into a great muddle. This had less effect on the plainer basilican style of the western empire with its great simplicity and economy of ornament. The wealth of the eastern empire was childishly misused by pasting embellishments over the main forms like a pattern card. For the same reason, ancient monuments were robbed of columns made of precious material, ofwhich there were many. These could not be used assupports for the large domes and vaultsin the same way as for the light wooden ceilings of the basilicas. Instead, they were often used to form completely superfluousarches placed between the heavy piers and vaults. If the shafts of the columns were not tall enough, then several columns were set on top of each other (whichincidentallymight have been the reason for the later ringlike ornament); or a piece of entablature was added to increase the height; or the brick arch was stilted to stretch it as high as possible. Often two to four columns were coupled, or four smalleroneswere placed on top of a larger one, asin the church ofSan Marco in Venice. In order to overcome the plainness of the large wall surfaces, which had only small windows, the facades of many churches were crammed with colonnettes joined by arches to form small galleries. In most cases, however, these were sonarrow that a person could barely squeeze into them, and there wasin any case frequently no access. There exist buildings, the facades ofwhich are composed ofsuch galleries one above the other. These small columns are quite different in their proportions from those of normal size. In particular, the capital and base are very large in relation to the shaft; otherwise the decorative details would have become indistinct. Also, the capitals project rather far to receive the comparatively heavy impost ofthe arch. The fact that column shafts originally consisted ofvery strong material may be the reason for this particular proportion. 87. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? However, there are alsovery simple buildingsin Greece and Italywhose architectural elementswere little affected by the disturbing influence of ancientarchitecture. For instance, there is a cistern in Constantinople, probably built in a later century and called by the Turks the Cistern ofthe Thousand Columns, that hasslender columns with hardly any taper and with the cushion capitalsthat later become common in the West. The cushion form, like the Greek Doric capital,is a transition from the round to the square capital. 15. Although buildings in the Byzantine style differ from those in the basilican style in overall plan and form, the elements of both styles are practicallythe same.Just as no rigid division can be observed between countries during the early period, sowe find a mixture of both kinds of planning in the Western churches that from the tenth century on were built in the style known as neo-Greek, pre-Gothic, or roundedarch style (Rundbogenstil}. They have domes, but instead of a Greek cross, with four equally long arms, they form a Latin cross, with one arm considerably extended, creating a long building like a basilica. Two rows of piers divide it into a nave and two side aisles. In the beginning it often has a timber ceiling and later a groin vault. In the former case the piers stand closer together than they do in the basilicas; they support the walls of the nave, which is always higher than the aisles, and are either square or circular, like columns. In the second case, the piers stand farther apart but are much thicker because they have to withstand the full lateralpressure ofthe groin vault. The coreof the pier isusuallysquare and aswide asthe wall of the main nave. On the back of the pier, a half-columnprojects, on which the ribs ofthe groin vault of the aislesmeet, as they do on a console at the opposite side ofthe aisle. The moldings ofthe base plateof the capital and often all the decorative parts of the capital continue around all four sides of the pier. The groin vaults of the nave are generally twice as wide as those of the aisles, sothat the ribs meet only on every second pier; here another half-column projects, and this continues past the capital or impost, up the wall ofthe nave, to the point where the ribs of the main vault meet. These projecting half-columns,which support the ribs of the groin vaults, must under no circumstances be placed in the same category asthe engaged columns or pilasters of ancient architecture, which did not carry anything. At those points in the interior where the ribs ofthe groin vaults abut and 88. HUBSCH where all lateral pressure is concentrated, there are buttresses on the outside, which extend in uniform width and depth up to the main cornice. In the intervals between the buttresses this cornice rests on a row of small arches, which form a straight line under the edge of the roof and have the same projection from the face of the wallas the buttresses. Originally,these arches arose out ofthe construction, aswe can seeon old castles, where they acted as supports for the battlements and were built ofsmall blocks, mainlyof brick. This had the advantagethat only a few large blocks of stone were needed for the whole length: these formed the corbels on which the arches rested. Later, these arches were retained even where they were smaller and everything was built in ashlar. There are also other formsthat are highly decorated in parts. Under the main cornice of the nave, apse, dome, and towers, there is often an arcade or gallery supported by smallcolumns, for which there are abundant examples among the buildings in the early Byzantinestyle. This gallery is, of course, alwaysinterrupted by the buttresses extending up to the main cornice and fills the empty space between the vertical outer wall and the vaulted ceilinginside. The windows are generally arched and in most cases are very high in relation to their width, although round windows, or roses, and even half-roses are not at all unusual. To admit the greatest possible amount of light, the jambs of the windows are splayed on both sides of the pane and are either left quite plain or, if decorated, do not project beyond the face of the wall. The jambs of those window openings that are not glazed are less necessary for lighting the interior and are therefore not splayed. In most cases two window openings are coupled, sothat their arches rest on a common pier or, more frequently, on a column (if the wall is thick enough, on two columns, onebehind the other). Up to three window openings maybe grouped in this way,with a larger arch constructed above them to relieve the small columns of the weight of the wall. The richly decorated jambs of the entrances, in particular those of the main doorway, are very wide and, starting from the deeply recessed door, are chamfered at a greater angle than the window jambs, as if to invite people to enter. The outermost jambs often project beyond the face of the wall; they then receive a small canopy. Because it is easier to construct a square wooden door that can easily swing back against the jambs, the part with the shortest distance between the jambs (in other words the actual door frame) is spanned with a straight piece. In order to divert the load from this piece, an arch is built above, the line of which isfollowed by each concentric member ofthe frame within. The empty semicircular area above the door either serves as a window or is closed by a stone plate carrying some sculptural decoration. 89. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? The towers that were built after bells came into use are generally not very high in relation to the nave and dome, though they are very numerous. They have small paired window openings of the type just described, consist of many short stories (reckoned by the number of window rows and stringcourses), are round or square, and generally have a pointed but not very high stone roof. The roof of the nave and the transepts is usually sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees. The secular buildings erected in this style also often have open galleries with colonnettes and vaultsthroughout and mostly very small windows. 16. All monuments ofthe Rundbogenstil in Western Europe share the qualitiesenumerated here but differ greatly in the particular formation of their architectural elements. As a rule, we find these elements progressively closer in form to the accompanying technique of vault construction; the transference of details from the Byzantine or, rather, the ancient style became increasingly rare. The construction became bolder and the vaults wider, employing less material and supported by slimmer piers or columns. Yetolder monuments are often superior in this respect to later ones, which were the work ofderivative architects who went on unthinkingly regurgitating— and misapplying—the principles of their teachers. With regard to the more objective aspect of architecture—namely, the design and development of its elements—monuments vary widely in artistic value, depending on whether they are the work of good or bad architects (of whom the latter have at all times been in the majority); and this is even more the case with regard to the overall plan and the arrangement of particular parts and decorative forms. Many buildings display a truly mindless randomness: windows, galleries, and cornices are thrown together unrelated to each other, sothat one would think it the work of several architects, each working in ignorance of the others. On the other hand, there are many buildings so simply arranged that they are among the most successful works of art and can rival the monuments of the Greeks. Altogether, the Rundbogenstil'was in many respects governed by the same spirit that gave life to the Greek style: both have many plain walls, which, notwithstanding the ample scope that they offer, are not overloaded with superfluous little cornices, stringcourses, and the like; rather, they impress us by the beauty and precision of their ashlar construction. The decoration in most cases still adorns and does not mask the essential parts. The decorative elements are very small compared to 90. HOBSCH the parts they adorn and thus create the character of delicate yet sober grandeur. Toward the end of the twelfth century, the church of the Benedictine abbey of Maria Laach near Koblenz was built in the fully developed Rundbogenstil.^ Here the piers of the naves and aisles are as slim and widely spaced as in the later churches of the SpitzbogenstiL This very large church, with five towers, a dome, and a forecourt, looks as if it had been built at one stroke in a most careful ashlar construction according to a single plan. The decorations, which in monuments of this style are often incredibly clumsy and rather disfigure than embellish the fabric, are conceived and executed here in excellent taste. I must declare this church to be the most beautiful I have ever seen. Although not everyone may agree with this assertion, they will admit, at least, that this church isthe crowning achievement ofthe Rundbogenstil, as the monuments of the Periclean age were of the Greek style. The church is unfortunately in a very poor state at present; and it will collapse within a few years unless the roof is repaired and iron ties are added, which could be done at very little cost. I shall count myself fortunate if these lines were to induce His Majesty the Kingof Prussia, who has done so much for the preservation of medieval works of art, to save this church too from impending ruin.9 17. In the thirteenth century appeared the so-called Gothic or Old-German style, in which the arches and vaults no longer formed a semicircle or Rundbogen but two segments of a circle, the so-called pointed arch or Spitzbogen (hence the most fitting name, Spitzbogenstil], and in which all parts give an impression of lightness and extend to a remarkable height. These two qualities(the origin of which we can leave undecided) clearly set the new style apart from the old, asdid the characteristic natureof its decoration, which consisted mainly of lacy fretwork and sharp points. Yet the difference was not asfundamental asmay appear at first glance, since in the construction and composition of the elements, the same principle was maintained. Furthermore, in the transitionalperiod when both styleswere often merged and used together on the same building, the pointed arch wasnot sopointed and differed little from the Rundbogen\ nor were the lightness, the delicate tracery, and the upward impulse of the Spitzbogensti/ as dominant at the beginning as they became in the later stages. With few exceptions, all Gothic churches have groin vaults to ensure that the lateral pressure is concentrated at a few points. The sharply projecting ribs of the vault, springing from the piers or columns like branches from a stem, are found 91. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? here in greater number than in the Rundbogemtil. These ribs intersect one another in various ways, dividing the surface of the vault into small cells, each with its own shallowly curved and extremely thin vault held up by the ribs. The basic form of the pier varies: sometimes it is a square, sometimes an octagon or polygon, sometimes a circle. The piers of larger churches are square, though placed diagonally;their four sides are surrounded by asmany columns asthere are ribs that spring from the top of the columns toward the vault. They thus resemble a bundle of extremely slender columns that are not really freestanding but are connected at the back to the shaft of the pier. When the aisles are lower than the nave, as isusuallythe case, the majority of these columns stop at the point where they support the ribs of the aisle vaultsas well as the imposts of the arches on which the walls of the nave rest. Here these columns have capitals, whereas those that support the ribs of the higher navevault continue up the wallsto the point where these ribs begin. Because the walls are very thin, the supporting buttresses project from the face ofthe wall more than they do in the Rundbogenstil. They terminate invarious ways: either they are joined to the main cornice, as in the Rundbogenstil'(a feature chiefly seen on Italian churches); or they stop below the main cornice and have a cap of their own; or they extend beyond the parapet of the roof and end in decorative pinnacles. From the buttresses ofthe walls of the aisles, arches usuallyspring toward the higher walls ofthe nave, which are supported by the interior piers ofthe church; thereby, the lateral pressure of the nave vault is concentrated on the buttresses. The main cornice, basically a large concave molding and frequently ornamented with leaves, runs round each buttress. The roof isslightly set back, thus producing a narrow passage between the roof and the parapet of the cornice. The water streaming down from the roof runs along this passage in hewn channels and is thrown off at various points by gargoyles. The very tall towers are generally square at the bottom and change into octagons at the top; their roofs form sharply pointed octagonal pyramids, which on more important churches are built of stone. All other roofs and gables are also high and steep. The windows of many churches are so wide that they take up all the space between the buttresses. Notwithstanding the great number of large window openings, the stained glass and the intersecting and variously arranged tracery of the windows admit only a very subdued light to the interior ofthese churches. The heads of these long windows extend to great heights and are all pointed, although there are also circular windows, or roses, and some with heads formed by segmental arches. The narrower windows of domestic buildings usually have straight lintels and are often combined in groups of two or three. The jambs are splayed like those of the 92. HOBSCH Rundbogenstil and are often decorated with many ornaments that do not project from the face of the wall. The main entrances have the same form as those of the Rundbogenstil, except that the heads are not round but pointed. Smaller doors often have straight lintels with no arch above, but in most cases the length of the free span is reduced by two corbels projecting into the width of the opening, directly below the lintel. Admittedly, a great number of buildings with small cornices and other randomly attached forms are the work ofmere artisanbuilders and consequently even more deficient in order than the most confused buildings of the Rundbogenstil. Yet everyone must rank the better buildings, and above allthe Cologne cathedral, among the most beautiful works of art, comparable to a finely constructed poem in which not a single syllablestrikes a discordant note.10 Nevertheless, the unbiased observer will confess that there is usually much overloading, produced by an endless arrayof decorative shapes that hide the essentialforms ofthe building. The tracery has been greatly overdone; even the roofs of towers are perforated, so that proper roofs have had to be constructed beneath them. Some forms have been used purely conventionally, such as sham gargoyles and gables and blind windows. The Rundbogenstil relates to these buildings as a pre-Raphael painting relates to a post-Raphael one. In the former, the incorrect way of drawing is disturbing; but in the latter, where nothing is left wanting in this respect, we nevertheless look in vain for the moving simplicity of the former. However, let us learn from the one undisputed merit ofthe Spitzbogenstik the way in which its forms, down to the smallest detail, derive in a consistent and organic manner from the construction of the vault, completely eliminating those reminiscences of the antique that here and there still disturb us in the Rundbogenstil. First the tapering ofthe shaft of the column disappeared, ashad already often happened in the Rundbogenstil. The conical form of the shaft, although it adds strength, belongs to an earlier stage oftechnostatic experience, which the bold vaulting style had left far behind. Thisform wasunsuited to the spaciousness now required; for, if one takes the greater diameter at the bottom ofthe shaft asthe necessary dimension, the diminution at the top pointlessly increases the distance that the vault hasto span. Yet in most cases there was no need to worry about adequate resistance to the comparatively strong lateral pressure ofthe vault, in the waythe Greek architect had to pay attention to the resistance of the column to earthquakes or other possible lateral pressures. Now that several arches, in different directions, rested on the shaft, their lateral pressures canceled each other out, and the column needed only to have reactive strength, for which a wider diameter below is the last thing needed. Furthermore, the arches were profiled in such a way that at the point 93. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? where they rested on the pier, they nowhere projected over its basic form to any significant extent. Because a spontaneous tendency toward lightness, independentof tradition, causes the corners of a square pier (fig. VII) to be chamfered and thus changed into an octagonal or round one, the same chamfer, or at least a similar contour, must continue along the arch that rests on that pier (see fig. VI). This ensures that the impost of the arch does not project too far beyond the pier when seen from an angle, as shown in fig. VIII. Otherwise, the heavy load may indeed cause a fracture. Apart from a few exceptions, the Rundbogenstil did not observe this practice. Here, the manner of the early Byzantineor basilican style wasretained, where plain angular arches built of brick were supported by ancient round columns. People had become used to this combination of forms and did not feel the lack ofharmony. Thereafter, the base plates ofthe capitals, aswell asthe bases ofthe piers, were made polygonal instead of square, since square corners, projecting too far over the round form, obstructed the free space. Because the capital no longer served a structural purpose, asit had done in ancient architecture, and in fact did not support anything, its projection was reduced. It was really nothing more than a decoration, and therefore the capital or impost block wasoften omitted. In ancient architecture the gable or pediment wasbounded by the main cornice, not only along the inclined sides but also along its horizontal base (seeE on fig. IV). The reason for the latter arrangement was that on Greek monuments the figures in the tympanum rested on this base. Yet the moment it ceased to have this purpose, aswasusuallythe case in Roman architecture, the placing oftwo projecting main cornices so close together became a reprehensible pleonasm. Although in the Byzantine, Basilican, and Rundbogen styles the projection of the cornices is less pronounced and the fault therefore less obvious, it ismet there quite frequently; but it is consistently avoided in the Spitzbogenstt'L Here the cornice runs along the inclined sides of the gable but not at the bottom; or if it does, then the inclined sides are treated in a different way. Besides, as already mentioned, the cornices project to a much lesser extent than in the Greek style, where the strong projection isprobably a reminiscence of the timber construction. In the Rundbogenstil the moldings of the cornices still resemble those of the flat Roman cornices; on the monuments of the northern Spitzbogenstil, greater attention is paid to throwing off the water; and this, by hollowing out the moldings more deeply, also improves the visual effect. Finally, one more improvement should be mentioned here. The Spttzbogenstil\\&& a better understanding of the essential character of church towers, and these were built not by piling up many low stories but by forming a framework of a few, though much higher, stories and windows. 94. HOBSCH 18. The description of the successive vaulting styles contained in the four preceding sections has traced so distinctly the principles according to which the architectural elements of the new style must be formed that we cannot easily go astray. Nowadays, as mentioned in Section 6, there can be no question ofspanning the distance between pillars with a single stone, like an antique entablature. The span must always be vaulted and follow the line of an arch, because the piers or columns employed as supports for the ceiling, both inside and outside at the open side of a portico, are naturallyspaced asfar apart aspossible, that is, more than six feet even in the most confined space. Should one choose a pointed arch instead of asemicircular arch, this would produce an organic style equally well; yet, practice would soon convince everybody that the exceedingly steep proportions ofthe Spitzbogemtil are incompatible with our needs, which normally point to the opposite, the useof the segmental or semicircular arch. In some cases, however, the Spitzbogen may be preferable. The catenary curve has an advantage only when applied to ceilings, and specifically to those that are of the same thickness throughout and receive no extra support at the points where the circular arch would be its weakest and would tend to collapse outward. In the case of a wooden ceiling, one pier need carry only two arches (see fig. I), whose intrados must be profiled in accordance with the basic form of the pier or column, asexplained in the previous section. With single-story buildings, the spandrels between one arch and the next need to be bricked in only up to a height that allows the ceiling and exterior cornice to find horizontal support. With multistory buildings, one should either place a second row of arches atop the lower one (with the ceiling of the first serving as the floor of the second) or build a wall above the row of arches. This wall, like one resting on the ground, must of course be of a thickness commensurate with its height and unsupported span, and the arcade must be ofthe same thickness. The wider the span ofthe arch, the flatter its curve, and the heavier its load, the greater must be its thickness (which should not be confused with the depth or intrados, determined by the thickness of the wall); and, as a result, the greater will be the lateral pressure that it exerts on the abutments. A wooden ceiling, because of the nature of its material, must have a straight and not a curved surface. How absurd it is to waste effort and material on forming wooden ceilings into arches, while seeking to avoid the arch in stone construction by using straight architraves! Those whose taste is uncorrupted will not be disturbed by the contrast between a flat ceiling constructed in timber and stone arches spanning the piers. They will prefer the vaulted ceiling not because its form 95. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? resembles the arches but because of its greater solidity and lavish appearance. With a stone ceiling, one can use any kind of vaulting, with or without ribs or bands (a description of which would be too elaborate), depending on which type is considered the most appropriate for a particular room or is preferred for other reasons. The basic form ofthe pier that supports either the arches under wooden ceilings, or the ribs ofvaulted ceilings, or the groins of plain vaults isgoverned by the contour that is outlined by these parts on the pier. As explained in the preceding section, the basic form ofthese parts must not project beyond the pier. It follows that the piers can have very different forms: they can be round, square, octagonal, and even polygonal, or a combination of all these shapes, with concave as well as convex corners. However, this should not be carried to extremes, asisdone in the Spitzbogenstil where the outline of the pier is hollowed out to such an extent that it resembles a bundle of stalklike columns barely attached to the core, so that they seem to be freestanding. It is true, however, that in the Gothic style this type of pier is in full harmony with other parts whose lightness and openness verge on the miraculous. That the shaft of the pier or column must have no swelling at all was shown in the preceding section. The foot or base of the pier must not obstruct the space and must therefore not have corners that project too far, unless required by special circumstances. On the other hand, there isno need to make the base meticulously follow the concave corners of the pier: it should rather simplify the complicated basic form, as was done sowell in the Gothic style. As explained in the preceding section, the capital or impost block must not project as much as ancient capitals and can perhaps be omitted altogether. The abacus of the capital should also not protrude too far and thereby conceal the place where the arches or ribs rest on the capital. The proportion ofthe thickness ofthe pier to its height isnot asrestricted as it was on Greek monuments, which only had one story, and where the columns had to carry a comparativelybalanced load. Piers that have to withstand lateralpressure must be proportionally thicker in relation to the increase in pressure, although, of course, less so as the specific weight of the material increases and the pier is constructed with fewer pieces. With the lateral pressure of the arches and ribs coming from opposite directions and thus being canceled out (asisusuallythe case), the thickness of the pier (with length unchanged) does not increase in proportion to its load and to the distance between the piers. This is because only reactive strength is involved here, which, however, varies greatly with different types of stone. Because the first principle in art must be truth, we must not overlay bare yet functional walls with feigned constructions. We must adopt the point ofview of those who in both the ancient Greek style and the Rundbogenstil aimed for beauty and opulence in wallsnot through frequent projections but through long-lastingand 96. HUBSCH careful construction, fine surface treatment, and (especiallyin Italy) interior mural paintings. If a wall has not been strengthened for some other reason (as may often be the case) to withstandthe lateral pressure ofthe vaults(with the ribs resting on imposts as shown on A, see fig. VI), then walls with vaults that direct their pressure toward certain points must naturally be strengthened at these points by abutments. These form projections on either the inner or the outer face of the walls or on both at the same time. Inside, they are placed opposite the freestanding piers aswall piers; they carry about half the number of ribs of those that rest on the freestanding piers and, accordingly, are shaped like a halved freestanding pier. These wall piers, which have a real load to carry, must not be confused with the engaged columns and pilasters of ancient architecture, which carried nothing at all. On the outside the reinforcement projecting from the face of the wall consists of buttresses that either extend up and join with the main cornice (a simple form that isgenerallyfound in the Rundbogenstil and frequently also in the Spitzbogenstil] or stop below the main cornice and must then be given their own termination. Buttresses extending above the main cornice and terminating in a decorated pinnacle, a type seen on larger churches in the Gothic style, will be in harmony with the whole only if all other parts take on spiked and pointed forms. To allay the fears of those who foresee the new style as consistingof exceedingly long plain walls, it should be said that even if the ceiling is not vaulted and therefore no lateral pressure bears on particular points of the wall, it nevertheless would definitely be better in most cases to place pilasters here and there at the corners and along the walls, because the walls could then be made much thinner. The main socle ofthe building, whose considerable height enhances the appearance of the whole, can, like the base of a pier, simplify the outline by omitting the returns created by minor projections of the wall. The slope ofthe roof depends on the materialused. If covered with tiles, it cannot be inclined much less than forty-five degrees; if with slate, it can be less than thirty degrees; ifwith metal, it can be very flat. The extremely steep gables and roofs of the Spitzbogemtil, though often covered with metal, were more a consequence of the upward striving that affected every part and certainly did not come about because of the northern climate, asisproved by the less-steeproofs ofthe Rundbogenstil, which are well preserved despite their great age. If the cornice is made of stone, it cannot project as if made of wood. It has to be hollowed out in such a way that the water is forced to run off the outer edge of its contour, which, as the main profile, can be enriched by adding various minor moldings (see fig. III). The projecting supports between the buttresses form part of the cornice. In the medieval style these usually consisted of a row of small arches, aspreviously described, though other richly decorated forms have also been 97. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? used and new ones could easilybe devised. Even the plain corbels seen on old churches are appropriate. A wooden cornice, formed by the projecting heads of the rafters and beams, has (apart from the greater overhang) a different look, mainlybecauseof the variously carved heads of the rafters and beams. As explained in the preceding section, the same main cornice must not run along both the inclined sides of the gable and horizontally under the gable. The openings for doors, above which the wall continues, must bevaulted like the spans between the piers, with the possible exception of smaller openings. Since, however, it is easier to construct and to open a square door, it is generally better, especially at the main entrance, to separate the space circumscribed by the arch from the actual door opening. This space will then either be made into awindow or be completely closed to provide a suitable place for inscriptions, architectural decorations, and (provided the actual door issufficiently recessed from the face of the wall) the display of sculptures or paintingsthat no one entering can overlook. The jamb of the door must be chamfered to allow people coming from the side to enter comfortably, and this chamfer can be plain or stepped. Larger window openings must also be vaulted. Straight lintels might be used for smaller openings up to a width of four feet, if they havewooden frames and are made to be opened. This was the usual form for dwelling houses in the Gothic style, and this subordinate use of the horizontal stone covering was not regarded asa disturbing inconsistency.The jambs ofthe windows must be splayed both inside and outside to admit more light. They are very suitable places for ornamental decor, although its use in dwelling houses should be carefully considered, since the jambs on the outside will be covered by the shutters when open. Unless objects are to be placed on the outer window sills, these must be shaped (like all projecting parts, such as cornices, bands, socles, etc.) in such a way that the water can run off, and they must be given a drip molding that will prevent the rainwater from running down the face ofthe wall and soiling it with the dust from the frames and sillsthat the rain carries with it. It takes little effort to achieve a great effect with deeply cut and finely curved moldings, as we can learn from the Greek and Gothic styles, which are in amazing agreement on this point. Sculptural decoration, when not excessive, isalmost exclusively an adornment ofthe essential parts and in every style ischiefly applied to those parts that are particularly conspicuous. Thus, in the Greek style, the door frames behind the columns had very simple decorations; whereas the portal in the medieval style, unless hidden by a porch, was the most elaborately decorated part of the building—and this is also the case with present-day buildings. 98. HUBSCH We have now reached the goal that we tried to attain and have established a strictly objective skeleton for the new style, sufficiently articulated, I believe, for the artist to enliven with his ownindividuality. Everyone will realize at once that the new style must come closest to the Rundbogenstil—t\\ai. it is, in fact, essentially the Rundbogenstil'as it would have evolved had it developed freely and spontaneously,unimpeded by all harmful reminiscences of the ancient style. This resemblance arises from the nature of things and was not brought about by authoritarian influence or individualpreference. All the qualities of the new style described in this last section have either been substantiated by what has been said in the earlier sections or are based on structural lawsthat for the sakeof brevity have been assumed to be known. Where the same task allowed several solutions, all have been accepted. The influence of reality in all its complexity hasconsistently been upheld. No rule that had proved correct in only a few cases or that in itself could not possibly be generally valid has been heedlessly proclaimed as afarreaching principle applicable to all cases. The theory of art developed here is not, therefore, like those scholarly theories that relate to reality in only a few issuesand in which rules abstracted from such theories are unhesitatinglymade into general laws. This theory isthoroughly practical. The new style will thus afford the most direct solution for the most diverse problems. Probably the least likely of all the faults for which the new style may be blamed by its opponents isthat of being a motley assortment of forms. The style will freely evolve and respond to any fair demand without hesitation. The architect will not feel ashelplesswith this style aswith the limited meansof Greek architecture; he will not feel like a painter who has to depict the wide-ranging subjects of Christian art with a restricted number of ancient physiognomies. The buildings of the new style will no longer have a historical and conventional character, so that emotional response isimpossible without prior instruction in archaeology: they will have a truly natural character, and the laymanwill feel what the educated artist feels. The decoration of buildings will depend on the imagination ofthe individual artists and will therefore be manifold. However, this will not endanger the new style, aswas pointed out in the first section. Even in countries where a uniform and consistent taste has prevailed, there is a great variety in decoration. This will be even more sowith us, who know all things past and present and are sofond of novelty and diversity. The crowd ofimitatorswill anyhow soon lend authority to these prod- 99. IN WHAT STYLE SHOULD WE BUILD ? ucts of a happy imagination. In every case buildingslogically designed in their basic elements will rank much higher asworks of art, even with the most infelicitousdecorations, than the most exact imitationsof ancient architecture. Source Note\ Heinrich Hiibsch, In welchem Style sol/en Handbuch der Archaologie der Kunst, Znded., 17, gives a very good descrip tion of the character of a nation that wouldgreatly favor artistic development. f Theso-called Tuscan and Roman Ionic orders used later by the Romans wereadapted both inproportion and in detailfrom the Doric and Ionic orders respectively and represented, infact, a mixture of both. The columns are really hybrids that represent neither male strength norfemale grace; they are evidence only of a coarse taste. 134. WOLFF tern of the Greek world of forms soon led to the dissolution of the spiritualharmony that pervaded it. To justify this assertion, let us now look briefly at the history of Roman architecture. The Romans acquired their knowledge of the arch through afortunate chain of circumstances, either by inventing it themselves or, as many believe, by adopting it from the Etruscans or from another, even older, nation. Whether the discovery came to them by chance or by their own calculation(to which the practice of using small blocks of building material may also have led), it was admirably suited to their purposes. At the beginning, this invention wasprimarily used to satisfy material needs in the construction of sewers and other underground works; but it soon entered the aesthetic field and was used to span wide spaces, not only to widen the passages through which the crowd reached the great public events that frequently took place in Rome—the focus of Roman grandeur and power—but also for the construction of the wide halls needed for the same purpose. The interiorsof these were free of the columns and pillarsrequired by the trabeated system, and their coverings were as durable as any that the Greeks and Egyptians could contrive by using stone beams. But the Romans used the vault to satisfy not only their real needs but also their inclinationtoward colossal dimensions and everything that appealed to avulgar taste. This explainswhy they made their temples larger without having any need for it. Another reason why they wished to introduce this characteristic element into their style may have been, as I once expressed it, that they saw in the all-embracing roundness of the arch an image of their own grandeur and status in the world. Yet the introduction ofthis spheric covering—the construction of which was possible only through complicated calculations that remained hidden—shifted \1findstrong support for this view in Eotticher's recently published, masterly book on Greek architecture, in 'which, after an appreciation of its greatachievements, he writes: "Thepoet and theartist, the thoughtful and the imaginative man love the Hellenesso muchfor their orderly spirit of invention, because it made them sense the miracle of nature screationsand listen to the lawgoverning their existence with which they soinfused their own works thata new and spiritually more enlightenedgeneration could only ariseout of their world, and even out of its ruins—a world to which every future generation must turn again to learn sophrosyne, the idea and form, the order and measurefor poetry andart." [Die Tektonik der Hellenen (Potsdam: Ferdinand Riegel, 1844), 1st excursus,p. 25.]Professor Stieralso—in an articlepublished in thisjournal in 1843—repeatedly emphasizes the necessity of a return toancient architecture. lamglad tofind that other writers arealso comingto recognize and appreciate the spirit and the merits of ancient architecture, on which I have long sought to shed light. It is to behoped that these views, on which the salvation of present-day architecturedepends, will in time find general acceptance. 135. REMARKS ON ARCHITECTURAL QUESTIONS the form away from the realm of calm and orderly contemplation that wasthe basic character of classical art into the realm of Romanticism. Restrictions were indeed lifted, and limits expanded; but, with these salutary barriers, art disappeared too. When the earlier practice with its clear expression of the simple nature of the material was abandoned, and the simple method of joining stones vertically or in horizontal layers to support the horizontal parts was replaced by an unnatural support through arches and purely mental calculations, then man's intuitive sense, on which all artistic impressions depend, could no longer follow. The Greek and Roman stylesthus differ greatly in their basic ideas, and the difference in form isjust as noticeable. With the Greeks, the architecturalskeleton, ifwe may use the expression, isstrictly stereometric, mineral, and inorganic in its main lineaments; it consists of squares formed by horizontal and vertical lines. With the Romans, it is shifted toward the organic aspect, or rather, the lower (vegetable) forms of organic life pervade the whole, although mainly through the linear contours. The first consequence of the adoption of the rounded arch wasthat the piers or supports, one of the most essential parts of Greek architecture, came to be subordinated to the covering. Sofar they had been freely developed and had, through analogies and in an appropriate and sensible manner, been given a beautiful shape, manifesting the supreme artistic spirit of the Greeks. Now, they were thrust from the stage of evolution at which they had gained, as it were, the status of a higher organism back to an inorganic and crystallinestate, at least with regard to their mass. For the arch does not only require avertical support for structural reasons, its formal outline must also be in direct connection with a vertical line: structurally, because it exerts pressure; formally, because half a circle is an incomplete form, which, whenever it cannot be completed by adding the other half (ashad been done in the case of the Byzantinerose windows),must be directly joined with a linefrom which it seems to evolve in a plantlike manner. The self-contained form of the column could not meet this demand; a perpendicular axis runs through the center of its mass but does not appear asa line—as it would have to do in order to merge with the contour of the arch. In the arcuated style, the support or pier reverted to an inorganic shape and was reallynothing but a piece ofwall; but its profiles assumed, one might say,aplantlike character through being merged with the organic profile of the arch (acharacter clearly expressed later in the Germanic style). Aspreviously mentioned, this has the result that the semiorganic character communicated itself to the whole arch form, even though the most flexible part—the freestanding support—was, at least conceptually, changed back into a dead and rigid mass. Yet, even with the contour ofthe arch continued by a perpendicular line, the arcaded form still gives the displeasing impression of something that is incom- 136. WOLFF plete: an impression that is dispelled only after the semicircle has been framed by complementary forms. The Romans felt this, and this (along with the wish to make their buildings look opulent) led them to frame their openings with horizontal and vertical lines, which, being tangential to the contour ofthe arch, reconciled the semicircle with the main directions [horizontal and vertical] and thus resolved dissonance and restored architectural harmony. They were right to borrow these framingforms from the Greek style. For where else could they have found verticality and horizontality sobeautifullyrepresented or embodied asin Greek columns and cornices? Indeed, they contrived with great ingenuity to fit these parts as a whole into their arcuated system. Although they had no clear conception ofthe original source, they had a sense for what was attractive, sound, and truthful. (In the decoration of their temples they also retained Greek models—at least in their own estimation, although we see these only as faint shadows of the originals.) From what has been said, it isevident that the vaulted covering isindeed an amplification ofthe preceding system but that aesthetically it does not represent a gain. It does not lead to the creation of new sculptural forms but only to a play of more vivid lines, which are similar to those surfacedecorations that tend toward the pictorial.* We shall see later that all succeeding arcuated styles were really onlyvariations on the same theme: that is to say, they were attempts to free the arch—that segment of a circle—from its stern aspect and indeed from its dissonant appearance. This iswhat gives any arcuated style, in contrast to the classicalrepose ofrectilinear structures, the character ofrestlessimmobilitythat I have alreadydefined as Romantic. With the decline of Roman power and greatness, a situation developed that wasnot favorableto architecture. The Romans with their comparatively sound artistic sense realized that the new element of the arch could not exist by itself but that to satisfy, it had to be wedded to something that was original, namely to architectonic-sculptural' quality,f Yet the nations of the increasingly turbulent period that followed were unable to uphold this insight in its originalvigor. It became more and more obscured, and the early stirrings of architectural creativity, stimulated by the first attempts to merge the new with the existing elements, were pushed into the * While the Greeks, with their system of straight lines, everywhere attainedformal perfection, in the detailsas well as in the building as a whole, the Romans achieved it only in those rare cases where buildings could be covered with domes. •\It shouldperhaps beexplained that I understand "the architectonic-sculptural"^** ArchitektonischPlastische] to bethe result of arranging theforms in such a way that thefunctions of all structuralparts, like the membersof the human body, are clearly revealed, while at the same time the structural arrangement does justice to theparticular nature of the material. 137. REMARKS ON ARCHITECTURAL QUESTIONS background. Increasingly, people were content to borrow from existing works only the barest essentials.This, ofcourse, meant that the arch form, afeature conspicuous even to the crudest sense, was given preference, especially because its construction required only small stones and consequently no great technical skill—a quality that was in short supply because of political upheavals, fragmentation of forces, and scarcity of means. Since traditional forms were apprehended with little mental effort and even less material expense, the sense of Tightness became increasingly dulled. As a result, the limitations that previous generations had wisely accepted (in the belief that the architectonic-pictorial {mm of the arch wasscarcely akin to true architectural principles) were abandoned; instead, builderstried through chamfering to give the arch form a more sculptural appearance and to give the arch more than a purely linear function in the process of formal creation by providing columns for its support in place of square piers. It was no longer clear to them why the Romansof the best period had given up using them for this purpose, even though trabeated architecture had shown that columns were functionally adequate assupports. Their artistic sense being dulled, they thought to gain by using columns asasupport for the arches, not only because space was saved with round columns but also because, for instance, they became easier to walk around.* Yetthis entailed a change in the shape of the column by which it was divested of its particular charm. Gradually, the taper was lost, sothat the column in its cylindrical shape at least had a perpendicular contour and thus fitted the arch better; the capital also acquired a square and massive form, which provided a tolerable continuation ofthe spring ofthe arch—carved, asit were, out of the wall—but made a poor match for the round shaft of the column. Thus the head was, soto speak, severed from the trunk, and the integrated, organic form of the column was torn open in order to make shift to join it with the new element, the hemispherical covering. Despite the crude ideasthat the practical builders (who, at that time, were hardly more than artisans) entertained on these matters, they did not fail to realize that something more had to be done to make the form of the arch more pleasing, an objective that the Romans had tried to achieve by framing it with straight lines. The Romans, as we have seen, had adopted the Greek forms for this purpose, using them only aslines that were to frame the arches asclosely as possible. But this arrangement was now considered a luxury; the builder thought he had done enough by showing the arcades in a far vaguer relationship with the principal [horizontal and vertical] lines. This was achieved either through simple projections *''Recently, someyounger architects