The Secrets of Architectural Composition

Nathaniel Cortland Curtis, J. S. Weiner

• Publisher: Dover Publications
• Year: 2013
• ISBN:
  9780486320748
• Topic: Architecture
• Subtopic: Architecture General

Well arranged, logical, and aptly illustrated, this classic survey covers every aspect of the design process. It addresses architectural principles as well as their practical application, examining general questions of scale, balance, proportion, and symmetry and presenting detailed treatments of doors, windows, walls, stairways, columns, and other features.
Long acknowledged as a valuable resource for students and teachers alike, this volume is unsurpassed in terms of the richness of its material and the consistency of its insights. It was written by Nathaniel Cortlandt Curtis, an influential designer and artist who served as the head of the Tulane School of Architecture. Curtis illustrated his work with nearly 250 line drawings that depict architectural elements from a splendid variety of periods and settings, from ancient Rome's temples and palaces to modern-day hotels and museums of Paris and New York.

PART I.

THE NATURE OF ARCHITECTURE

CHAPTER I.

DUAL NATURE OF ARCHITECTURE; FUNDAMENTAL
ESTHETIC LAWS OF ARCHITECTURE; ARCHITECTURAL
CREATION; BIBLIOGRAPHY.

The nature of architecture is determined by two objects. The first of these objects is the satisfaction of the requirements of use; the second is the satisfaction of the requirements of beauty. Since the purposes of different types of buildings vary greatly, it follows that these two essential characteristics of use and beauty do not exist in the same degree, but alternate in importance within wide limits. Thus in buildings intended solely for use, material necessities dominate; whereas in edifices designed to evoke certain emotions or intellectual impressions through their external form or ornamentation, esthetic qualities would be given the first place. At one extreme, therefore, we have strictly utilitarian edifices, as for example, factories; at the other, monuments and works of sculpture; between, many varying types; all never-the-less, architecture. Throughout the whole range of types of buildings which the manifold requirements of the human race in all epoch and in many climes have called into being, it will be seen that the scope for the expression of character by the treatment of the architecture is practically limitless.

Although the requirements of habitation and the satisfaction of material necessities are the first and earliest objects of architecture, the satisfaction of esthetic needs is that which essentially characterizes it—as architecture. This follows from the fact that a work of architecture, if devoid of the quality of beauty, is not materially different from a work merely of engineering. And while it cannot be denied that stable buildings may be designed and erected without reference to esthetic principles at all, such buildings, although they may in a measure satisfy all the material requirements of man, cannot properly be called works of architecture. Real architecture is only achieved when there is wrought into the composition of the building a certain harmony of form which we call the beauty of the edifice. It is this harmonious combining of elements, then, according to the laws of art, which has been held to differentiate architecture from purely engineering constructions.

In view of these considerations it is proper that the student of architecture should, at the outset grasp clearly the distinction between a work of architecture and a work of engineering.

Broadly speaking any construction possessing one or more of the following characteristics is of the nature of architecture.

First, as to arrangement—A well-composed plan in which the requirements of use and beauty are harmoniously combined. Second, as to form—An external form or configuration in all exterior and interior parts wherein the special requirements of the edifice are expressed in terms of beauty and good proportion. Third, as to finish—By which is meant a due regard for appearance in the selection of materials used in all the visible parts of the structure.

In the light of these distinctions, any edifice even though it is of a nature that would ordinarily be determined by purely structural and utilitarian requirements, such as a lighthouse or a bridge, may properly be classified with the works of architecture, provided a reasonable prominence has been given to external form and appearance. To cite two well-known examples: the Manhattan bridge in New York is certainly a work of architecture; while its neighbor, the Williamsburg bridge is just as certainly a work of engineering.

While the question as to what is engineering and what architecture cannot be settled by reference to a list of positive artistic qualities, it must not be forgotten that magnitude of dimensions alone is often one of the most important and impressive of all artistic qualities.

The nature of architecture is still further affected by many external factors, not strictly speaking inherent, but varying with time and place. Such influences as climate, topography, religious and social customs—the aspirations of the time—are all reflected in architecture, which necessarily therefore environs and adapts itself to the social condition of peoples of every epoch.

There have been theorists who have striven to find in the material side of architecture a sufficient explanation for its esthetic character. They have tried to show that the outward form of a building both in mass and detail is logically and satisfactorily determined by utilitarian requirements alone; their main contention being that no form should be introduced that is not a derivative of a material function. This raises the interesting and pertinent question as to what would be the result should the architect cast aside all striving for effects and give free reign to the mechanical axiom that “form follows function” in architectural design.

Is the principle as stated above sufficient to give to it beauty of form as well as truth of thought and fulfillment of purpose? Before attempting to pass judgment on these questions, let us first analyze somewhat the principle to which we have reference in its application to architecture.

What are the effects or external appearances, for which the architect strives? Naturally these depend on the sort of building he is designing, and there are many sorts between the purely utilitarian and the highly monumental. Generally speaking, it may be said that he strives to produce an impression of a certain definite character which is dependent on the purpose of the edifice. This is particularly that character which we call the beauty of the edifice. As an extreme illustration of this we may be sure if an architect, having for his program the design of a church, evolves a building with the configuration of a box factory then he has missed the primary object of architecture, which in this case was to create the impression of a religious edifice. Effects of this sort are dependent upon many and varying conditions. We may, however, say confidently that they are not dependent upon function solely nor upon materials economically used in construction. The lofty nave of a cathedral has nothing to do with the material function of the building—in fact it rather detracts from the stability of the edifice; yet this is necessary from the consideration that architecture has spiritual meanings, which are expressed in forms having, more than often, nothing to do with material functions.

The effects striven for in all the various works of architecture are like the above; that is the effort is to create a building whose character corresponds to its program, whether this building be a box factory, a church, a residence, a tea house, a monument to the heroes of the Marne, or any other.

In a sense this is a modern conception of the ideal of architecture, for the architecture of antiquity was not strongly characterized. The Propylaea and the Temple of Athena are not essentially different in character, yet one is the portal to a fortress, while the other is a shrine to the goddess of wisdom. The Greeks were not under any necessity for distinguishing between different types of buildings by accentuating their character, since they had only a very few types and these mostly religious. The necessity was the same to a greater degree with the Roman, Gothic and Renaissance architectures, and we must recognize a gradually increasing tendency toward characterization as types of buildings become more numerous and complex. On the other hand the Grecian architecture was closely wedded to the principle that form follows function. All its details and proportions are directly derived from the logical use of materials (limited with them to stone and marble) in construction. Moreover the Greeks were actuated by the search for pure beauty of form above all things.

Is it not more than passing strange, in view of the fact that the most perfect architecture that the world has seen was developed through conformity to the principle of form following function, that the same principle does not seem to be a wholly satisfactory aesthetic guide in modern architectural design? The reply to this query is that we cannot detach ourselves from tradition in the art of architecture any more than we can detach ourselves successfully from tradition in any other art or progressive form of knowledge. We cannot get away from those forms, proportions and meanings which have been established throughout the ages, and it makes little difference if stone architecture was the medium through which those meanings were established. Willful disregard or lack of appreciation of this truth has led, more than anything else, to the confusion which exists in many minds as to what is engineerng and what architecture. Let us hear what Mr. Arthur J. Penty has to say on this point.

“There are,” he says, “spiritual differences between architecture and engineering that are not to be ignored. Their aims are different. We may distinguish between them by saying that whereas engineering aims at securing its results with the utmost economy of means, architecture has no such aim. Economy in architecture is invariably a necessity; it is never an aim, for architecture only becomes really impressive when it exhibits an excess of strength, when it is massive, prodigal, and lavish in the use of materials. Reinforced concrete walls four inches thick can never be as impressive as stone or brick walls four feet thick. There is no getting behind the fact that, beyond a certain point, the more scientific construction becomes the less it has to say for itself in terms of architecture. If, therefore, we disparage esthetics and exalt utility, we do not encourage architecture but engineering; not art but mathematics. We exalt construction, which should be the servant of architecture, into the master; we exalt secondary over primary considerations, and that brings about confusion, for whereas secondary aims find their place in subordination to primary ones, primary aims come to be entirely neglected when secondary ones are stressed.”

There is another point that may be noted in this connection. In antique architecture, actual stability was not sufficient; it had also to be manifest. Our modern ideas of efficiency and economy lead us to stress actual stability, and to regard anything added thereto for the sake of appearances as more or less of a superfluity. Let us not forget that in the visual arts appearances count for everything, after requirement of use and stability have been properly safeguarded.

In summing up the primary effects which architects strive for, it seems apparent that these are dependent very largely upon tradition, and if we would apply the formula that “form should follow function” in its purity, we are compelled to cast aside tradition altogether and start anew. Now this is the very thing that seems impossible for the reasons already suggested. Nor is it necessary to disregard all the accumulated records of the past in order to achieve a modern architecture which will correctly reflect the spirit of our own times.

While material functions, such as structure, have great importance in shaping the artistic forms of architecture they are not sufficient in themselves to give to it the highest expression as a work of ant. A strict adherence to the doctrine expressed by the phrase “form follows function” is apt to produce edifices which are sterile creations, devoid of charm and meaning.

CHAPTER II.

Primary Esthetic Laws of Architecture; Architectural Creation.

Theorists agree in defining the basic artistic principles on which the art of achitecture rests. It is generally stated that the impression of beauty depends fundamentally on unity of form; or, in other words, that the plurality of elements that make up a building must be so related and bound together as to make what is termed—a unified composition. In order that this object be attained, it is evident that all these elements should bear, not only a definite relation to each other, but to the composition as a whole.

For example, unity may be secured by having all parts of the composition in the same scale, or of the same stylistic character, or properly proportioned to one another and to the requirements of human needs. These are subtle ideas requiring great knowledge and educated taste for their proper application to any problem of architecture, but such knowledge is nevertheless essential and must be acquired. The ideas of proportion and scale are those which are most closely related to the conception of unity. Unity in architecture can never be realized except through understanding of the principles governing proportion and scale which fix the relation of parts to each other and to the entirety.

To possess unity a thing must be complete in itself. It must have a certain simplicity, easily grasped by the mind, which tends to produce a singleness of impression. The unity of the elementary geometrical solids, spheres, pyramids, cubes, cones and tetrahedrons, is readily comprehended, since nothing can be added to or taken away from any one of them without destroying its form. To these solids of geometry the larger masses of buildings bear a close correspondence since they have in general the same regular stereometric form, yet they differ from them in other essentials affecting their unity. These differences are due, first, to the fact that geometrical solids do not necessarily bear any relation to their surroundings, whereas buildings do bear a necessary relation to their surroundings and particularly to the ground on which they stand.

The singleness of impression which is essential to unity in solid forms is a resultant of the method, system or idea controlling their generation. This produces other differences affecting the unity of the solids of architecture that are not to be found in the solids of geometry. In bodies of regular stereometric form which have no reference to their surroundings this central controlling idea is usually some point, such as the center of gravity, the center of a sphere, or some line like the axis of a pyramid or cone. In the creations of architecture the principles controlling the unity of the composition are much more complicated and difficult of application. Here the singleness of impression results especially from the search for character and the methods employed to make it evident. The importance of character in architecture has already been alluded to. Character here means that every building should have an individual treatment or configuration that is primarily a direct result of the purpose for which it is intended and the materials with which it is built—the use of materials being governed by rational means of construction. In other words the purpose for which a building is intended determines its character, first by determining its plan and outward configuration and second by expressing in it a certain ideal significance which declares in the language of beauty the object and purpose for which it stands.

In buildings of monumental character the impression of unity is realized without effort of the intellect. Such buildings are usually symmetrical with a dominating central portion flanked by wings. The first impression of such an edifice is that of its mass or silhouette as if the building were seen at a distance or through a haze, the eye resting on the central dominating motive. Subsequent impressions of unity are governed by the more detailed qualities of the design, such as equality of scale, uniformity of style, the relative amount of wall and window area, the horizontal lines of cornices, mouldings and string-courses, carved ornament and all minor decorative features.

Up to this point the requirements for unity have been discussed in a very general way. More specifically, then, what are the requirements for unity in architecture? According to the classic statement of Semper there are essentially three. “Symmetry, proportion and direction are collective ideas,” says he, “inasmuch as they bind a plurality into a unity.” Symmetry or balance in a composition results directly from the force of gravity. In the mind of man there is an innate desire for stability in all objects resting on the ground, and symmetry is that quality in design which renders stability evident. The most stable form is that which tends toward the pyr...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Preface
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Illustrations
• PART I
• PART II
• PART III
• PART IV
• PART V
• PART VI
• PART VII
• Back Cover