Friday, 8 December 2023

This England.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
SHAKESPEARE.

Architecture should ameliorate the human condition. The conceit of to-day's oblong asymmetry and bland cubism is an attempt to crush the spirit of man, to condemn inspiration, and impose temporality and industry forever upon the populace at large, as a boot upon a face. All may love the beautiful, be it classical, gothic, or romanesque, but I abhor the ungainliness that is now exalted for ingenuity. Simon Thurley explains in his excellent Gresham lectures why this one hundred year long storm of torrential grime has settled around our fair isles, like the eye of Jupiter, blanketing all which was fair and lovely about our nation in standardised and regulated mediocrity. 'Lean', Mr. Thurley tactfully describes these excrescences, meaning made to three purposes only: civic function, structural strength, and inexpensiveness. Odd it is therefore that so many new buildings fail to achieve any of these. All of this was caused, says Mr. Thurley, by the nationalisation of architecture, something I never had considered before and now fully recognise. During the wars, British society was nationalised even beyond the scope of the Nazi government, so that private patronage of individual genius was annihilated. Buildings now are the result of committee meetings and pie chart budgets. Should we condemn the architects who design them? How can we? They are left no alternative. Clearly there needs to be a revivification of private patronage, and that responsibility rests with the patrons. Let time settle the dispute with the modernists, and see if World Heritage Sites are made of to-day's civic buildings as they have been for those of the past, that millions yearly flock to see in all their awing beauty and breathtaking grandeur. The true spirit of the nation is as following:


 
 
 
 
 
 

















   Brick is a great problem. In general I hold it is far easier and therefore more common to make brick look oppressive and tedious than it is to fulfil its potential. The best brick in my eyes is by far the darker brick, maroon brick, grey brick, or black brick. Dark orange brick is tolerable, but bright orange and pink brick is stark and alien upon the earth, dusty and stifling. Brick can be used to excellent effect, as in the example of the Royal Albert Hall, when it is highlighted by a sandy stone, but all kinds of other stone are my preference unquestionably. Meanwhile, glass is the single greatest enemy to-day of architectural beauty. For with the advent of glass walls we have seen the extinction of that beautiful thing: the window. Stonework, woodwork, and ironwork, are arts, glass blowing is the merest science.









Why is the top part of the Big Ben Clock Tower, Elizabeth Tower, illuminated slug green at night?

   I will not have it that it is through inability that we now cannot build equally pleasing structures, for Quinlan Terry exists. It is purely through directed choice in the halls of power that we do not, for artistry flourishes as ever. Year on year quickly and effortlessly such structures are recreated in 3D modelling  environments such as video games, as also in the illusionary designs at theme parks. Surely there is a reason why such designs are used for such attractions? Perhaps because they are attractive? Disneyland makes people happy simply by its architecture. All countries should endeavour to perform the same function. It would cost no more, it would excite architects the world over in their profession, and it would probably reduce crime by increasing happiness, and so improve productiveness. 'Heavy armour is light at table.'


Built in 1992 of... fibreglass.

   The Disney theme parks, although of late suffering from the same failing of most modern town planning, building developments without due reference to the Whole, are examples of what modern techniques can make of old building styles. The theming of these pleasure grounds is astounding, and can be achieved at no greater costs than ordinary building. The motivation of such theming is to cause pleasure by stirring the imagination, which is why people travel the world over simply to see and walk about such themed areas. How much more then would be the delight if councils all over the country opened departments equivalent to the Disney company's Imagineering department, its name being a rare instance of a clever portmanteau, where there were put together artists from all manner of fields, architects of course, illustrators, engineers, craftsmen, and productive occupations, who together planned and designed the new town developments around the country in the manner of the Disney company. Not of course making things ill fittingly extravagant or pseudo, but taking inspiration especially from their excellent use of Victorian lamp posts, gates, and buildings. One of the great virtues of the Imagineers' designs in the Disney theme parks is their emphasis on perspective, where there is usually a central building or feature to an area around which everything is drawn. This was also a frequent characteristic of the oldest and best preserved cities in England, where a cathedral fulfilled that rôle of drawing the eye. Everything is so meticulously crafted at those parks, the buildings are all picturesquely illumined at night, there is a thorough cleaning policy, inspection and regulation. Not that all these things could or should be absolutely applied, but I think the inspiration could be very profitable.



   No more should architects be shock artists, that work may be left to comedians, they must be social benefactors. Who would not rather live in a house where they saw such buildings out of their windows? Would it not give all a motive to live through another night? O level the soul crushing concrete blocks which obscure them! Also, pop music should use words from great verse, Wordsworth, Shakespeare, and Coleridge, since the artists evidently seem to struggle nowadays to come up with any of worth themselves. By this means, the whole world will walk around with literature on their lips.




    I am a proud man of Kent, but how can anyone withhold the title of greatest county of England from Hampshire? Winchester was the Capital of Alfred's England, Portsmouth was the Capital of  Nelson's Navy, and Aldershot remains the Capital of the greatest army in history. Farnborough and Southampton furthermore have ever been vital in  the nation's aviation industry, the latter being where Supermarine developed the Spitfire. There is also a generalised beauty to the scenery in that county, a cleanliness to its towns which makes them altogether extraordinary in modern England, and a friendliness about their people. In its true historic form it incorporates the beautiful Isle of Wight and the picturesque towns of Bournemouth and Christchurch. Perhaps no county represents so fully in its nature and appearance, nor has served so completely in its vantage and history, the greatest nation on earth, the kingdom of England.




























 

   It can be done, as the splendid example of Poundbury shows. There needs that natural tendency to High Art which existed in this country for so long until the turn of the previous century. Wealth is not a necessity although it is amiable, only vision is required and taste. The very labourers' cottages of past ages were works of art, and they cost a good deal less to build than the most cheaply priced of modern huts.





   I do not think it would be altogether desirable to be a billionaire, or as older English would have it a thousand millionaire, as the responsibility for its correct disposal would weigh heavily. To be a billionaire is of necessity to be a businessman, as there could hardly be a sufficient level of personal acquisition to answer such extraordinary figures, unless it comes to the regular paying of an hundred thousand pounds for each whisky simply for the sake of it, for I have heard of such cases of conspicuous prodigality. Out of such boredom is there not the legend of the two club members of White's betting on which raindrop would reach the bottom of the window first? If I were a billionaire however, I would like to dispose of it in this wise: by putting steam trains on regular railway lines again, with compartments and beautifully varnished carriages staffed by liveried attendants, and by patronising the arts, especially architecture, so that this generation's G.E. Street, Inigo Jones, John Vanbrugh, or Christopher Wren, were given ample opportunity to employ his or her genius for the general weal of the nation. I hold steam trains to be perhaps the most beautiful vehicle man has ever designed, and I think it would be a good thing if they could be converted so that they should be boiled by electricity. I should also wish to seek out the best painters, musicians, writers, and craftsmen, so that the latent talent of this generation were realised as it had been in former ages, for though this nation surely has far greater opportunity now than it ever had in those times yet it seems to lack all creative direction to utilise it.  

 



   I am far from thinking the extraordinary Trafford Centre a gaudy extravagance, as doubtless many Marxists would call it, a hive of all they despise, unnecessary beauty and appalling mercantilism. On the contrary, I think it proves undoubtedly the advantage of private wealth and patronage. It is a triumph of modern construction mingled with actual taste of architectural design. It is extraordinary. It is stupendous. Why is it not more imitated? It reminds me of something Kenneth Clark (not that Clarke creature, but the man of culture who wrote Civilisation) said of the Royal Naval Hospital at Greenwich, words to the effect that, 'I do not know exactly what civilisation is, but I think it is the kind of society that builds this for a naval hospital.' I might adopt this saying and say of the Trafford Centre, 'I do not know what civilisation is, but I think it is the kind of society that builds this for a market place.'

 




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