Architecture, Essay on Art by Etienne-Louis Boullee Part of MS Franqai’s 9153 BibliothequeNationale, Paris edited and annotated by Helen Rosenau translated by Sheila de Vallee A rchitecture, Essai sur I’art forms part of the Boullee papers and notes. These are bound in one volume, preceded by an inventory, obituary notice, notes on architecture and art and reports on competitions in MS and in print. There are also drafts of letters and several notes in Boullee’s own hand. From page 40 to page 65 in the MS is found the draft of the Essai, which begins on page 69. Particularly revealing is the description of a young man, destined to be an architect, whom Boullee sent on to David in order to study painting. It corroborates the generous and unembittered attitude which Boullee displayed up to his death (MS Franijais 9153 p. 38v). In addition to a new translation of Boullee’s Essai, its first appearance in English, the original French text has been included in this book. In order to preserve its character, the authentic eighteenth century spelling has been maintained, although misleading errors have been corrected. The accents and punctuation have been adapted to present use in order to facilitate reading. It is to be noted that Boullee’s spelling is idiosyncratic, even for the eighteenth century. Effet he spells with an accent aigu on the first “e”, Gotslmd Goths are both found in his text, and his capital “S”is sometimes almost indistinguishable from the small one. The great number of erasures make it certain that the text is in the master’s own hand. It reveals the interest in minute detail coupled with philosophical thought so characteristic of his drawings. The original pagination of volume 9153 is here shown in the inside margins of the original French version. To Men who cultivate the Arts Dominated by an excessive love for my profession, I have surrendered myself to it completely. But although I have yielded to this overweaning passion, I have made it a rule that I shall work for the benefit of society and thus merit public esteem. I should confess straightaway that I have refused to confine myself to the exclusive study of our ancient masters and have instead tried, through the study of Nature to broaden my ideas on my profession which, after much thought, I consider to be still in its infancy. What little attention has been paid in the past to the poetry of architecture, which is a sure means of adding to man’s enjoyment and of bestowing on artists the fame they deserve! That is my belief. Our buildings—and our public buildings in particular—should be to some extent poems. The impression they make on us should arouse in us sensations that correspond to the function of the building in question. It seemed to me that if I was to incorporate in my Architecture all the poetry of which it was capable, then I should study the theory of volumes and analyse them, at the same time seeking to understand their properties, the power they have on our senses, their similarities to the human organism. I flattered myself that if I went back to the source of all the fine arts I should find new ideas and thus establish principles that would be all the more certain for having their source in nature. You who are fascinated by the fine arts, surrender yourselves completely to all the pleasure than this sublime passion can procure! No other pleasure is so pure. It is this passion that makes us love to study, that transforms our pain into pleasure and, with its divine flame, forces genius to yield up its oracles. In short, it is this passion that summons us to immortality. It is to you who cultivate the arts that I dedicate the fruits of my long vigils; to you who, with all your learning, are persuaded—and doubtless rightly so—that we must not presume that all we have left is to imitate the ancients! Judge for yourselves whether I have understood what no one before me, to my knowledge, has attempted to understand. “Amis eclaires des arts! Si de vous agreer je n’emporte le prix, j’aurai du moin Thonneur de l’avoir entrepris”2 La Fontaine* Friends enlightened by the arts! If I have not won the prize for pleasing you I shall at least have the honour of having tried Introduction What is architecture? Shall I join Vitruvius in defining it as the art of building? Indeed, no, for there is a flagrant error in this definition. Vitruvius mistakes the effect for the cause. In order to execute, it is first necessary to conceive. Our earliest ancestors built their huts only when they had a picture of them in their minds. It is this product of the mind, this process of creation, that constitutes architecture and which can consequently be defined as the art of designing and bringing to perfection any building whatsoever. Thus, the art of construction is merely an auxiliary art which, in our opinion, could appropriately be called the scientific side of architecture. Art, in the true sense of the word, and science, these we believe have their place in architecture. The majority of Authors writing on this subject confine themselves to discussing the technical side. That is natural if we think about it a little. It was necessary to study safe building methods before attempting to build attractively. And since the technical side is of paramount importance and consequently the most essential, it was natural that this aspect should be dealt with first. Moreover, it must be admitted that the beauty of art cannot be demonstrated like a mathematical truth; although this beauty is derived from nature, to sense it and apply it fruitfully certain qualities are necessary and nature is not very generous with them. What do we find in Books on architecture? Ruins of ancient temples that we know were excavated in Greece. However perfect these examples may be, they are not sufficient to provide a complete treatise on art. Vitruvius’s commentator lists for us everything an architect should know. According to the commentator, his knowledge must be universal. In Fran$ois Blondel’s pompous preface we find a description of the excellence of architecture. The author informs us that to punish his people God threatened them with taking away their architects. I have heard wits exclaim, “You must be among the chosen few to dare to take up that profession!” Reader, you will be astonished to learn that neither in this pompous preface nor in Vitruvius’s commentator do I find any indication of the meaning of architecture. What is more, neither of these authors has any notion of the basic principles on which their profession is based. My opinion may offend some people to begin with; but it is easily justifiable for my suggestion is in fact taken from one of the two authors just quoted. You are familiar with the famous quarrel between Perault, the architect of the Peristyle of the Louvre and Francois Blondel, the architect of the Porte St. Denis. The former denied that architecture had its source in nature: he called it fantastic ^art that was pure invention. When Francis Blondel tried to refute Perault’s opinion, the arguments he used were so weak that the question remained unsolved. When I raised it again, I did not get any satisfactory answer. On the contrary, I soon became aware that most educated men shared Perault’s opinion.3 And now Reader, let me ask you, “Am I not to some extent justified in maintaining that architecture is still in its infancy, for we have no clear notion of its basic principles?” In common with all educated men, I admit that tact and sensibility can result in excellent work. I admit that even artists who have not acquired sufficient knowledge to search out the basic principles at the root of their art will nevertheless be competent, provided they are guided by that gift of Nature that permits men to choose wisely. - But it is nonetheless true that there are few authors who have considered architecture from the artistic point of view; what I mean is that few authors have attempted to study in depth that side of architecture that I term art, in the strict sense of the word. We have some precepts based on good examples but these are few and far between. Vitruvius’s commentator4 does inform us that a prerequisite of architecture is a knowledge of those sciences related to geometry, such as Mechanics, hydraulics and astronomy, and also Physics, Medicine, etc. He concludes by asking for some knowledge of the fine arts. But, if we consider that science and the fine arts both have their place in architecture considered as art, and since, moreover, Perault defines his architecture, as “fantastic”, Francois Blondel in his rebuttal hasnotproved the contrary, and nor has anyone else up to the present; if we succeed in discovering that basic principles of architecture and what is their source, then I believe that, without rashness, we can conclude that these principles have remained unknown or at least have been neglected by those who have discovered them. I have met competent men who have objected that since the discussion between Perault and Francois Blondel had degenerated into a quarrel and that they were therefore overcome by anger and a spirit of rivalry, no conclusion should, under the circumstances, be based on their pronouncements for Perault’s true opinions were certainly very different from those he professed.5 However, one of those who had spoken thus confessed that the question was difficult to solve. At the Academy, I heard him read a memorandum debating this question without coming any closer to a solution. When contemplating the Peristyle of the Louvre in the company of other Architects, I have on occasion chosen the moment when they were lost in admiration at its beauty to declare a completely opposite opinion. As you can well imagine, they asked me to explain myself. Then I reminded them of Perault’s opinion. I said to them, “You admire this work of art but the architect himself has admitted that it is based on pure fantasy and owes nothing whatsoever to nature. Your admiration is therefore the result of a particular point of view and you should not be surprised to hear _ it criticized, for the so-called beauty that you find in it has no connexion with nature, which is the source of all true beauty.” I added, “You may admire the techniques used in hiTconstruction and I admit that it is a competent construction, even one of Genius, but in view of the architect’s own admission, I believe that when you think you are admiring what you call the beauty of its architecture, you are in fact admiring what your eye is accustomed to in something that has no true beauty.” My colleagues stammered a few words without giving me an answer. I was not surprised for it is not easy to explain what the beauty of the Peristyle of the Louvre or of any other monument has to do with Nature, if one has not given deep thought to the matter. What does surprise me is that no one has tried to elucidate an objection of such importance. ^ What, then, has impeded the progress of that part of architecture-concerned with art in the strict sense of the ffionj? This is clear to me. For an art to attain perfection, it is not sufficient that the men who practise it love it passionately. It is also vital that there be no impediment to the studies they must undertake. Their genius must be able to spread its wings freely and they must be encouraged by the expectation that their efforts will be rewarded. Let us imagine now that a young Architect makes some progress and begins to make a name for himself and to win the confidence of the Public. He will be overburdened with a stack of requests and details of all kinds and forced to devote all his time to the contracts which are given him. Because he is continually busy with the procedures made necessary by the confidence shown in him, the artist can no longer contribute to the progress of his art and consequently cannot hope to win the true glory to which he could have aspired. He cannot give sufficient time to the study of his art and thus finds himself forced to abandon it. You will say that the architect should refuse lucrative business so as to be able to pursue his purely theoretical studies. Alas! Who would willingly sacrifice a fortune that is offered him and which, in many cases, he desperately needs? You will say that such a sacrifice should be easy in view of the expectation that he will one day be commissioned to build several great buildings. But how can he really believe in such expectations? The opportunities are so few. How can he be sure ten or fifteen years in advance that his services will be used by those in power at the time. You will perhaps reply that a worthy man has the right to expect just that. And I would answer you, “Will justice be done? Can he really expect to be given preference?” I credit patrons with the utmost honesty and the purest intentions and yet I am forced to admit that their lack of knowledge often leads them to act blindly, and that it is a lucky chance when they choose a competent man. How many times preference has been given to ignorant schemers at the expense of worthy men who spend their time working and do not scheme! How preferable is the fate of Painters and men of letters !6 They are free and independent; they can choose their subjects and follow the bent of their genius. Their reputation depends on no one but themselves. They have exceptional talent? Then no human force can prevent it flowering. Whether they distinguish themselves in the way of all great men who arouse our admiration; whether they fill our hearts with voluptuous pleasure as Lucretius did with heady words or whether they say with Correggio, “I too am a painter”, they enchant us with the grace of their inimitable pictures. Whether, by vying with the genius of Raphael who gave us the sublime image of the Creator unravelling chaos, they hold all our faculties in suspense and, in imitation of the im- mortal statuary of Greece, offer us gods that incorporate all the majestic beauty of the human race; whether they succeed in gathering a rich harvest from the vast store that Nature has provided for them and their names are handed down gloriously to posterity, they *cafi procure pure happiness by themselves arid every one of them is justified in saying, “All my fame I owe to myself alone.” These are the incomparable joys and incalculable advantages of which the young Architect is deprived for his talents would remain buried if he devoted all his time to Study. He is obliged to sacrifice the latter if he is to become well known to those in power, without whose goodwill he cannot develop his talent. This is without doubt an abundant source of acute pain and bitter regret to those who care passionately about their profession; and so I was not surprised when I heard tell that a very competent man, who had suffered the privations I have described, was in the throes of the deepest despair. I would not be surprised either if some architects thought I was exaggerating. But I am sure that such men would be architects in name only and that joy to them would mean wealth. However, suppose we assume for a moment that my opinions are in some respects false. Suppose we assume that an architect is in the most advantageous position possible, i.e. he has talent, money and patrons. Such advantages are extremely difficult to come by all together and where will they lead him? It is a fact that when the most straightforward individual starts to build, he sorely tries the patience of his architect, with whose decisions he rarely concurs. It is also a fact that those in high places who give contracts for public monuments are not in general any more amenable than private individuals. And so what happens? What happens is that the architect finds that he is obliged to obey orders from above and abandon his best ideas. What is - more, if the architect is very gifted, his projects will be even less acceptable to his judges who will not be sufficiently enlightened to either understand or appreciate the beauty of his designs. The gifted architect will not be understood and this will cause him a thousand irksome setbacks; and if he wants to keep his position, then he must refrain ifrom any resistance; he must not listen to the voice of his genius but descend to _the level of those he must please. It is evident that this flexibility is difficult to find in an exceptional man; and since in architecture, there is often a curb on genius, as we have demonstrated, it is consequently very difficult to find a gifted architect in a position, where he can produce good architecture. An architect can never be sure that he will be given the opportunity to develop his truly superior genius by being made responsible for one of those public buildings that should bring glory to the country that has ordered them and should arouse the admiration of all connoisseurs. If he succeeds in being chosen to begin such a project, will he be permitted to complete it? What a sorry example we have before us in the heart of our capital city. How many centuries ago did work begin on the Palace of the Louvre! For example, the facade giving onto the Tuileries Gardens, what a rhapsody! The centre front projection is by different hands whose individual styles are easily recognizable. The back projection and the corner pavilions are also by different architects. It seems to me that this Palace can be compared to a poem, each part of which is composed by a different poet. But, you will say, in spite of all these impediments to progress, we do have masterpieces that are evidence of the beauty of architecture and demonstrate the perfection it has attained. My own views on this will be revealed later and, meanwhile, I will merely state that if architecture had acquired the perfection attained by the other arts, and if there were as beautiful examples, we would not today be reduced to trying to establish whether architecture has its source in nature or whether it is pure invention. I can certainly maintain, without fear of shocking anyone, that a demonstration is clearly needed since the architect of the Peristyle of the Louvre considers that all famous monuments are merely products of the imagination. I feel I must confess straightaway that I myself believe that there is a great difference between architectural masterpieces and those which arouse our admiration in Painting, sculpture and Poetry.7 This is a consequence of the observations I have made above on the advantages of the Poet and the Painter. The latter have not been hampered in their choice of subject; they have exhausted every subject, whereas in the whole of Europe we can find vefy few examples of beautiful architecture. And so, if we want to affirm that architecture is the equal of the other arts; what proof do we have? It is certain that for the purposes of comparison there are nowhere near as many masterpieces in architecture as in the other arts and that it is only possible to measure the success of an art through the plethora of experiments of all kinds. I am reminded of a rather curious conversation. I was in the country with an art lover and a young Painter. We were taking a walk together while discussing painting8 and I was speaking to the art lover. I extolled one of the most Tbeautiful] pictures of Vovhemens that we had seen together. As this picture had given me enormous pleasure, I was praising it passionately. The art lover remained unmoved. No one is more exacting than a man who is not conversant with a given art for he is unable to imagine all the difficulties the artist has had to overcome. He has no pity for him and believes that everything is possible. The art lover pointed to nature and said ironically, “Vovhermens has forgotten so much.” I quickly replied, “You are paying Vovhermens a greater tribute than you realize when you compare the works of that great master to nature. Do you really think that the work of humble mortals can withstand the comparison you are suggesting?” “What! They are comparable with the creations of the Divine Being ... the Divine Being!” cried the young painter. “If he would come down to earth and deign to stoop so low as to use only the means at our disposal, then, Sir, you would have a fair appreciation of our great men.” We could not but perceive the truth in the young man’s outburst. Supposing that we had no knowledge of an artist’s techniques and had never seen anyone paint. If we were handed a palette after seeing a picture that was so true to life that we could not believe it to be real—such pictures do exist—we would not believe that it was possible to create with so little, something that had made such a vivid impression on us. How is it possible to imagine that with five or six different colours, the multitude of colours, the nuances, all the effects of nature can be reproduced! How is that man can convey the warmth and freshness of the air, can reproduce the effects of light? How can he have succeeded in drawing the passions that move us and by revealing them to us alive on the canvas, make us feel them in our very being? Perhaps, you will object, that if indeed architects have not acquired the high degree of perfection that other artists appear to have attained, this may be because the latter have the advantage that their art is close to nature and consequently more likely to move us. I would reply that this is the very question I am trying to answer; that what I understand by art is everything that aims at imitatinFnature: thaf no architect has attempted the task I have undertaken; and that if I succeed, as I dare hope I shall, in proving that architecture, as far as its relations with nature are .concerned, has perhaps an even greater ad-vantage than the other arts—then you will have to admit Tharif architecture has not made as many advances as the other arts, the blame does not lie with Architects alone, for, I consider, they have an excuse on the grounds of the obstacles listed which have hampered and continue to hamper architecture in its progress towards perfection. God forbid that it is my intention to offend the distinguished Architects of this age. I respect and love them and the high esteem in which I hold them leads me to believe that they will listen, without displeasure, to the words of a man whose sole aim is to contribute to the advancement of his profession. If I am mistaken, my ideas will hurt no one but myself; I should not be suspected of bad intentions. If, on the contrary, I have understood certain truths, then I shall certainly not upset distinguished men, who have always considered truth with love and respect. Consideration of the discussion that occurred between Perault, architect of the Peristyle of the Louvre, and Frangois Blondel, architect of the Monument at the Porte St. Denis The Present Problem < form that is pure invention.___ Is architecture merely fantastic art belonging to the realm f 7 If by the strength of his mind and the techniques it of pure invention or are its basic principles derived from j ' devises, a man could arouse in us with his art those sen-Nature? -J sations we experience when we look at nature, such art Allow me first of all to challenge the existence of any art would be far superior to anything that we possess, for we are limited to more or less imperfect limitations. But there is no art that we can create alone, for if such art existed it would mean that the Divine Being, the creator of Nature, had endowed us with a quality that is part of His own essential being. What, therefore, could Perault have meant by a purely inventive art? Don’t we derive all our ideas from nature? And does not genius for us lie in the forceful manner in which our .senses are reminded of nature? I cannot think of any form of fantastic art without imagining aimless, unconnected ideas scattered here and there in no order, aberrations of the mind, in shorty dreams. The Architect and engraver Piranesi was responsible for some such follies. Caricatures were invented by Italian painters. The famous engraver C allot has done many grotesque figures. The ancients created chimeras, etc., etc., etc.9 All these creations of the imagination are misleading, what do we perceive in such works but natural objects —exaggerated and disfigured it is true—but natural objects all the same. Does that prove the existence of an art based on pure invention? To have the right to advance this‘s alleged possibility, it would be necessary to prove that men.; could conceive of images that bore no relation to natural ’ objects. But it is beyond all question that no idea exists that does not derive from nature. Let us listen to a modern Philosopher who tells us, “All our ideas, all our perceptions come to us via external objects. External objects make different impressions on us according to whether they are more or less analogous with the human organism.”10 I should add that we consider “beautiful” those objects that most resemble the human organism and that we reject those which, lacking this resemblance, do not correspond to the human condition. On the Essential Quality of Volumes. On their properties. On their analogy with the human organism11 In my search to discover the properties of volumes and their analogy with the human organism, I began by studying the nature of some irregular volumes. What I saw were masses with convex, concave, angular or planimetric planes, etc., etc. Next I realized that the various contour s of the planes of these volumes defined their shape and determined their form. I also perceived in them thF confusion (I cannot say variety) engendered by the number and complexity of their irregular planes. Weary of the mute sterility of irregular volumes, I proceeded to study regular volumes. What I first noted was their regularity, their symmetry and their variety; and I perceived that that was what constituted their shape and their form. What is more, ^realized that regularity alone had given man a clear conception of the shape of volumes, and so he gave them a definition which, as we shall see, resulted not only from their regularity and symmetry but also from their variety. An irregular volume is composed of a multitude of planes, each of them different and, as I have observed above, it lies beyond our grasp. The number and complexity of the planes have nothing distinct about them and give a confused jnipression. How is it that we can recognize the shape of a regular volume at a glance? It is because it is simple in form, its planes are regular and it repeats itself. But since we gauge the impression that objects make on us by their clarity, what makes us single out regular yolumes inparticular is the fact that theirregularity and their symmetry representorder, and order is-clarlty. -------——' " It is obvious from the above remarks that man had no clear idea of the shape of volumes before he discovered the concept of regularity.12 Once I had observed that the shape of a regular volume is determined by regularity, symmetry and variety^,then I understood that proportion is the combination of these properties. By the proportion of a volume, I mean the effect produced by its regularity, its symmetry and its variety. Regularity gives it a beautiful shape, symmetry gives it order and proportion, variety gives it planes that diversify as we look at them. Thus the combination and the respective concord which are the result of all these properties, give rise to volumetricjjaxmpny. Eor example, a sphere can be considered as incorporating all the properties of volumes. Every point on its surface is equidistant from its centre. The result of this unique advantage is that from whatever angle we look at it, no optical effect can ever spoil the magnificent beauty of its shape which, to our eyes, will always be perfect. The sphere provides the solution to a problem which might be considered a paradox, if it had not been geometrically proved that a sphere is an undefinable polyhedron. This paradox is that the most infinite variety is derived from the most perfect symmetry. For if we assume that the surface of our globe is divided into different points, only one of these points will appear perpendicular to it and the rest will be at a multitude of different angles. The sphere has other advantages: it offers the greatest possible surface to the eye and this lends it majesty. It has the simplest possible form, the beauty of which derives from its uninterrupted surface; and, in addition to all these qualities, it has grace for its outline and is as smooth and flowing as it could possibly be. The conclusion of all these observations is that a sphere iSjjn,alLrespects, the image of perfection. It combines strict symmetry with the most perfect regularity and the greatest possible variety; its form is developed to the fullest extent and is the simplest that exists; its shape is outlined by the most agreeable contour and, finally, the light effects that it produces are so beautifully graduated that they could not possibly be softer, more agreeable or more varied. These unique advantages, which the sphere derives from nature, have an immeasurable hold over our senses. A great man (Montesquieu) once said, “Symmetry is pleasing because it is the image of clarity and because the mind, which is always seeking understanding, easily accepts and grasps all that is symmetrical.”13 I would add that symmetry is pleasing because it is the image of order and perfection. Variety, is pleasing because it satisfied a spiritual need which, by its very nature, likes to be stimulated and sustained by what is new. And it is variety that makes things appear new to us. It therefore follows that variety puts new life into our faculties by offering us new pleasures and it is as pleasing to us in the objects that are part of any given volume, as it is in the light effects so produced. Grandeur, too, always pleases us whatever form it takes for we are ever eager to increase our pleasure and would like to embrace the Universe. Finally, the image of Grace is one which, deep in our hearts, is the most pleasing of all. Now we have proved that the proportions and harmony of any given volume have their source in nature, we shall return to our consideration of Perault’s assertion as to what constitute the basic principles of architecture. Examination of the Thesis of Perault on the basic Principles of architecture Perault compares the principles of architecture with those of music; he suggests that the beauty of both lies in correct proportions, and goes on to concede that music is an art because harmony has its source in nature. But he claims that it would be vain to try and prove that there are in architecture in proportions that also have their source in nature and it is for this reason that he considers himself justified in maintaining that architecture is fantastic art based on pure invention. If Perault had admitted that harmony was derived nature and had for this reason suggested that music was not fantastic art before the discovery that harmony had its source in nature—a discovery we owe to the sciences—then he would have said about music exactly what he has said about architecture. But he would have been mistaken. For the sensibility of man produced harmony before this discovery was made. Musicians did not know that harmony had its source in nature. Even today many excellent musicians pay scarcely any attention to this question; but their indifference is in no way prejudicial to the development of their talents. It is obvious that Perault’s assertion was made without due consideration. As I have already stated, artists can produce excellent works of art guided only by their sensibility without any studies to determine the basic principles of their art (by going back to its very roots) Perault and Francois Blondel prove my point. They were doubtless competent architects, and yet they falsely applied the principles of music to architecture; they did not realize that these arts bear no relation to one another and have no analogy and that their basic principles are thus totally different. Consideration of how we can with certitude define the basic principles of an art and of architecture in particular What constitute to perfection the principles of any given art are those principles from which no deviation is possible. For example, in music no harmony is possible if the rules are not followed. For it is impossible to produce any chord at all without following the correct progression of notes. It would be vain to try and produce a chord of a third, or fourth or fifth, etc., without adhering to the rules governing chords. It is just the same when they are combined to create greater harmony: whether these Laws are the result of an j analogy with the human organism or whether they have \ their source in nature, the ensuing sounds have made us realize that it is impossible to deviate from them without the result grating on our ears. This proves that the harmonic -ratio is the primary law governing the basic principles of the art of music, for it provides the sole means of producing harmony. What then is the primary law on which architectural principles are based? Let us consider an example of Architecture that has been imperfectly observed and lacks proportion. This will certainly be a defect but the defect will not necessarily be such an eyesore that we cannot bear to look at the Building; and nor will it necessarily have the same effect on our eyes that a discord has on our ears. In architecture a lack of proportion is not generally very obvious except to the eye of the connoisseur. It is thus evident that although proportion is one of the most important elements constituting beauty in architecture, it is not the primary law from which its basic principles derive. Let us try, therefore, to discover what it is impossible not to admit in architecture, and that from which there can be no deviation without creating a real eyesore. Let us imagine a man with a nose that is not in the middle of his face, with eyes that are not equidistant, one being higher than the other, and whose limbs are also ill-matched. It is certain that we would consider such a man hideous. Here we have aff example that can readily be applied to the subject under discussion. If we imagine a Palace with an off-centre front projection, with no symmetry and with windows set at varying intervals and different heights, the overall impression would be one of confusion and it is certain that to our eyes such a building would be both hideous and intolerable. It is easy for the reader to surmise that the basic rule and the one that governs the principles of architecture, originates hyegularity and also that any deviation from symmetryTnT architecture is as incqnceivablelas failing to observe the rules of harmony in music. “ There is no doubt that any disparity in an art based on the principles of Parity is repugnant, ^ymjnrtrica) .compositions. are true and pure. The slightest diSorderfthe slightest confusion becomes intolerable. Order must be in evidence and^ paramount in any composition based on symmetry. In short, the wheel of reason should never desert an architect’s genius for he should always make a rule of the excellent maxim, “Nothing is beautiful if all is not judicious.” Programmes intended to establish that the Study of Nature is necessary to architecture Since the feast of Corpus-Christi, as celebrated by the Christians, can be more magnificent than any other feast, it seems to me that we should ensure that it is as splendid as possible by making it a truly unique celebration. I believe Monument for the 'celebration of Corpus-Christi The aim of religious ceremonies is to induce a state of profound reverence. It is therefore necessary to use every possible means of inducing grandeur and majesty. that there should be a place and a monument specifically assigned to the celebration of this feast and yet, even with all the resources of art and genius, it will never attain the magnificence that such a subject calls for. In order to give the monument that I am describing the requisite dignity, I would first choose for it a high place dominating a city: Mount Valerius, for example, or Montmartre near Paris.14 There I would instal a general seminary; and in this holy place inhabited by the most worthy ministers of Religion, who lead pure, innocent young souls to heaven, here, I repeat, would be the most suitable location for the monument for the celebration of Corpus-Christi. If all the arrangements were suitably impressive, the celebration would be both splendid and magnificent; the whole would be decorated with all that is most beautiful in nature; the buildings would be mere accessories, the base of the repository formed by a superb open-sided Temple crowning the mountain top. The Temple precincts would consist of fields of flowers exuding their sweet smell like incense offered to the Divine Being. Magnificent avenues of trees would line paths laid out in such a way that processions and ceremonies would everywhere be perfectly visible. These avenues would not only connect all the buildings and serve as decoration but also shelter the procession of ministers during the ceremony. These avenues would lead to fertile fields where all the earth’s useful crops* would be found. In the midst of these auspicious fields nature’s first crops would be offered to God and thus thanks would be given to the Supreme Being for his blessings. It is from here that the singing of Hymns giving thanks would bear to the Heavens the adoration and vows of virtuous mortals. This beautiful place would be the image of all that ensures our well-being; it would fill our hearts with a sense of joy and would be for us a true earthly Paradise. The beauty of the place and the large throng in attendance would also serve to make the celebration even more impressive! Religious ministers, pure and innocent youth, a gathering of a multitude of men all filled with joy-—all these would make this celebration not only moving in its magnificence but truly heavenly. Monument of public gratitude If I imagine a nation that is both sensitive and generous, and governed by men who truly merit the title guardians of the fatherland, I must also assume that such a nation will be eager to demonstrate its love and gratitude towards its benefactors. I dare say such a .nation will want to convey these feelings in the form of a monument that will bear witness to them for Posterity. How easy it is to understand but how difficult to describe all that we expect when we hear the resplendent title Monument of public gratitude. It seems to me that this monument should be located in a place endowed with all the beauties of nature, with all that serves to preserve life, so that it will seem to say to all who visit it, "Here before you are all the riches with which the Nation would like to prolong and brighten the days left to its benefactors. ” Where can such ideas be put into effect? To whom can such a noble, such a worthy task be entrusted? To architecture. It is a task for an architect to choose a place where he can make a museum that incorporates all the scattered beauties of nature and where, in addition, we find all that is useful to life and thus all that can serve to prolong life. Finally, the architect of this beautiful place would demonstrate the command of his art, which lies in the use he makes of nature. Here in this place he would, so to speak, give birth to new delights at every step. We would experience the most profound pleasure at the sight of these charming gardens that resemble the Elysian Fields described by the Poets of antiquity and now brought into being through architecture. The charm of these beautiful Lakes mirroring nature and multiplying our pleasure and all the vistas that they offer us give infinite variety to all before us. The tragic appearance of thick woods and gloomy forests, where the lack of light gives us the impression that nature is in mourning and where the unpleasant noise of a stream surging from the depths of the earth makes us think that what we hear are groans, gives us the opposite sensation and makes what is agreeable seem ever more delightful. Moreover, sombre scenes do not always make us sad. The grandeur of Nature raises our spirits and always gives us pleasure. When man is looking down on the earth from a great height and sees it elude his gaze, he is dazzled by the brilliance and beauty of all before him and, rejoicing in its vastness, he is in ecstasy. Finally, everything in nature would be lavished and, so to speak, exhausted in this delightful place made by man, who found nothing but pleasure in the hardest toil. On the basis of the various scenes that we have attempted to describe and which are an integral part of the monuments described above, it is easy to conclude that when Vitruvius’s commentator15 defines architecture as the art of building, he is speaking like a workman, not an Artist well versed-in his calling; it is as if a player of music compared his talent with that of the composer of the music. It is obvious that Vitruvius was familiar only with the technical side of architecture. That at least is what his definition proves; if I confined myself to considering architecture only in the light of Vitruvius’s tenets, I believe a more valid definition would be the art of creating perspectives through_ thejirrangement of volumes. But when we consider the scope of architecture, we perceive that it is not only the art of creating perspectives through the arrangement of volumes but that it also comprises a knowledge of how to combine all the scattered beauties of nature and to make them effective. I cannot repeat too often that an architect must make effective nature. ' It is impossible to create architectural imagery withouta, profound Irnoyded _ Lecture lies in natural effects. That is wliat makes architecture an art and that art sublime. Architectural imagery is created when a project has a specific character which generates the required impact. Character, .]<- ^' Let us consider an object. Our first reaction is, of course, the result of how the object -affects .us. And what I call ■^cl^cterisj^efiert kind l^mp^s^iononus^^ ” ^^^SSfc&rbuiiaing character is to make judigial useof every means of producing~no other sensations than .those related to the subject,. In order to Understand what I mean by the character oFexpected effect of different objects, let us^ take aiook at some of the! beauties of nature andwcshallsee-tbatwe are forceBYo express ourselves in accordance with the effect they have on our senses. What a charming spectacle delights our eyes! What an agreeable day! How pleasant it is! The image of a good life extends over the whole Earth! Nature is bedecked with the charms of youth and is a work of love! Sweet harmony reigns over all our impressions on such a delightful day; and its charm intensifies the colours and our senses are drunk with their freshness, their delicate nuances, their smooth, rich tones. What a pleasure it is to run our eyes over all these things and how agreeable they are; their adolescent forms have a je ne sais quoi that emphasizes the smooth flowing curves that barely indicate their presence and adds new charms. The beauty of their elegant proportions lends them grace and unites in them all things that have the gift of pleasing us! But summer comes and forces a change of mood. The glorious light makes us drunk with joy and our sense of wonder has no limits. This pleasure is truly divine! What pure happiness we feel in the bottom of our hearts at this spectacle! What ecstasy! No, we cannot possibly give expression to it! ---At this season nature’s work is done; everything is the image of perfection; everything has acquired a clearly defined form that is full-blown, accurate and pure. Outlines are clear and distinct; their maturity gives them noble, majestic proportions; their bright, vivid colours have acquired all their brilliance. The earth is decked out with all its riches and lavishes16 them on our gaze. The depth of the light enhances our impressions; its effects are both vivid and dazzling. All is " radiant! The God of day seems to inhabit the earth. Nature is adorned with a multitude of beautiful things and offers us a splendid vista of magnificence. But autumn has already taken the place-ofisummer and raises our spirits with new pleasures; it is a time of fulfilment; spring had already awakened our desire for it. The earth, still adorned with Flora’s dazzling gifts, is now covered with Pomona’s treasures. How varied are the images! How gay and smiling! Bacchus and the gentle Goddess of Folly have taken over the earth. The God of mirth, the spirit of our pleasures, makes our hearts drunk with joy! It is as if the Goddess wanted to give pleasure to the God by disguising the earth. Colours are mixed, variegated, mottled. JForms are picturesque and have the appealing attraction of novelty; variety had-added to their spice and the play of light and shadow produces countless surprise effects which are all delightful.17 But fine days are superseded by the dark winter season * What a sad time! The torch of heaven has disappeared! Darkness is all around us! Hideous winter comes and chills our hearts! It is brought by the weather! Night follows in its wake, unfurls her sombre shades over the earthy and spreads darkness everywhere. The shining crystal of tlie ocean is already tarnished by the blast of the north wind. What remains of the pleasant forest are no more than skeletons and nature is in mourning. The image of the good life has faded to be succeeded by that of death! Everything has lost its brilliance and colour, forms sag, outlines are hard and angular and to our eyes the denuded earth resembles an all-embracing tomb! ~ Oh, Nature! How true it is that you are the book of books, universal knowledge! No, we can do nothing without you! But although each year you begin again the most interesting -and instructing course of study that exists, how few men pay ^ attention to your lessons and know how to benefit from \ them! It follows from these remarks occasioned by the seasons of the year that to create something beautiful we must, as in nature, ensure that the general impression given is gentle; colours must be soft and muted, their shades delicate; shapes must be flowing with light, elegant proportions. The art of making things agreeable stems from Good Taste. ^ Good Taste is a delicate, aesthetic discernment with regard to objects that arouse our pleasure. It is not enough tolimply put before us objects that give us pleasure. LUs.. when we choose, among them that our pleasure is aroused andwe feel delight in the depths of our being, i 'Tet us concentrate on architecture and we shall see that here Good Taste consists of providing more delicacy than opulence, more subtlety than strength, more elegance than ostentation. Thus it is grace that is indicative of Good Taste. We have observed that during the summer season the whole of nature is bathed in light which produces the most magnificent effects; that this life-giving light was diffused over an extraordinary multitude of objects all with the most beautiful forms, all shining with the brilliance of the brightest colours, ull of them developed to the full; and that the result of this beautiful assembly was a vista of magnificent splendour. r As in nature, the arLofgiyingan impression of grandeur 1 in architecture lies in the disposition of the volumes'that ) fornTthe whole Jn such a wav that there is a great deal of j play^ampng’them, thaftheir masses have.a_no.ble, majestic ' movement and" that tEe^Faydthe' fuffest possible development. The arrangement shouid be such that we can absorb CatTaglance the multiplicity of the separate elements that constitute the whole. The play of light on this arrangement of volumes should produce the most widespread, striking and varied effects that are all multiplied to the maximum. In a large ensemble, the secondary components must be skilfully combined to give the greatest possible opulence to the whole; and it is the auspicious distribution of this opulence that produces splendour and magnificence. It is just such expanded images that I have tried to produce in several of my projects, notably the Palace at St. Germain-en-Laye, the Metropolis and Newton’sCenotaph. I hayeJxied to avaiLmvself of all the means put atjnv dis-posal-b-y-natureandtQ-.convev with mvarcliitecfuretheim-age of grandeur. I would suggest that the reader consultmy plansTiTpIace~of all possible explanations, for I am persuaded that what should be required of an Artist above all is not that he explain well but that he execute well. We have observed that the smiling images of autumn were produced by great variety, by the play of light and shadow, by picturesque forms and their lack of similitude, by the unique and bizarre nature of their variegated, mottled colours. It follows from these remarks that if we are to produce gay, smiling images, it is necessary to be familiar with the art of diversification; for this one must depend on flashes of inspiration for. they make objects new, different and more stimulating, and diversify design. They utilize picturesque forms so as to disguise and individualize them. They_.rnake. ligHt play on shadow to produce stimulating effects that bv skilfuPmixin^ through fortunate, re^songd analogy, tfirough Jslender, graceful proportions, they give architecture an aspect of lightness. By ingenious -Combination and unexpected progressions they create unexpected vistas that proffer the stimulating attraction of novelty. This type of architecture would be suitable for Vauxhalls,18 fairs and health spas which almost always have picturesque locations, for a Theatre with pleasant surroundings, or agreeable public promenades, such as Boulevards, etc., etc. We have observed that during the winter season, the light is sad and gloomy, that everything has lost its brilliance and its colour, that outlines are hard and angular andthat..the denuded earth has the appearance of an all-embracing tomb. It follows from these observations that to produce a sad, sombre impression, it is necessary to try to present, as I did in my funerary monuments, an architectural skeleton through the use of an absolutelv b.ar.e-walli9_and to convey an impression of buried architecture by using only ..low, 'sagging proportions burjed in'-the earth; and, finally, by usingligBFSrtSSorbmg materials, ;to "create a black image of an; architecture of shadows outlined by even- darker ghadows. ThlsTtype of architecture based on shadows is my own •/n-artistic discovery. It is a new road that I have opened and, if I I am not mistaken, Artists will not refrain from following ; _ it.20 ^ I will add one last observation to those I have already made—one that seems to me of great importance. It is that naturgjievsLdeviates in its-forward marrin and evervthjng in nature is striving towards the- goal-oLperfectiohi Uoes ' Nature offer us agreeable images, noble images, pleasant images, sad images? In_alUts-Biiereihjmagesjiatui^retains the individual character of things in such a way that nothing j£in.cqntradictibnl^ nor colours; and all things in all respects have a perfect relationship.-perfecf~analogv and harmony. This is, for me, a critical moment: I am going to put my case before the Reader by describing my own work. He cannot accuse me of trying to force it on him to make my case seem favourable, for I shall strongly criticize some famous monuments and in so doing I shall provide weapons against myself which he can easily use to destroy my own work utterly. I am aware of it but I am writing to further the advancement of the arts and I cannot make an effective contribution if I do not tell the truth, even against myself. What author is not aware of his weakness? Who does not desire to go beyond his capabilities? All able men are tormented by a sense of their own inadequacy. They cannot hide it from themselves. The more knowledge they have, the more dissatisfied they are with their own work and the more often ^ they find they are at war with themselves.21 Basilicas When^n. Architect intends-to begin work on a project, he. shouldBucst^falTconcentrate on understanding its every essential .aspect. OncehehasTOly'grasped such aspects, then he will perhaps succeed in giving the appropriate character Tohissuysct; and further study and SffeculafiOT ^lenabie him to grasp the fundamentals of the problem he has set himself.22 An edifice for the worship of the Supreme Being! That is indeed a subject that calls for sublime ideas and to which architecture must give character. BuCto give character lo onfi!s_workjjtisjigc^A^JtaAud£^^^^cUnJteEth»iP rise tojthalevel-oftheideasit is.dejjtin^topurinto^ect and to imbue onesdf with-them.to_such .an extentthaUhey are, so to speak, one’s sole inspiration and guide. But what Artist having tried to rise to the contemplation oflhe Creator, will dare to design a Temple for him! r Here the limitations of art correspond to those of the human mind; and no one can flatter himself that he is able to go beyond them. Man gives homage to the infinite Being in "vain; for such homage is, inevitably, in proportion to the weakness •of those who offer it; with such a subject all man can do is to fulfil his religious duty as best he can—and that alone is a tremendous task. I do not know whether the architects of our modern temples had these thoughts in mind. From their designs, it is clear that they have tried to incorporate nobility, splendour and opulence. We should doubtless be grateful to them for the order and proportions of their architecture. But does their art go so far as to induce a sense of veneration at the mere sight of their Temples? Are we afraid of desecrating them by recklessly setting foot there? Do they inspire the -profound respect that results from religious belief? Do they have that quality of grandeur belonging to genius that surges forth and imposes itself on the onlooker, filling him with astonishment and wonder? Is the general impression that They surpass human capacities and are, so to speak, inconceivable? And, finally, have all the resources that nature has to offer art been tapped to endow the subject with the majesty it calls for? Such were my first thoughts on Temples. Greek architecture is recognized as being so superior that to-day its precedents are laws. Let me tell you that the Greeks decorated their temples with magnificent colonnades and it must be admitted that architecture possesses no other more majestic or more agreeable technique. It was therefore to be expected that there would be imitations of such beautiful examples handed down to us by our famous architects. Why then have our modern Architects in their Temples substituted for the noble opulence of architecture a form of decoration that consists of cumbersome arcades, with straight, massive bases decorated with nothing more than a coat of plaster a few centimetres thick that we architects call a pilaster! This unweildy, ignoble order is crowned with vaulting pierced by lunettes resembling cellar skylights. The sharp, unpleasant angles of the lumettes make the vault appear horrifically heavy. The unsuitable ornamentation only exacerbates the defects we have just described by drawing attention to them. And do not imagine that these observations apply only to a few monuments that are not worth mentioning. Consider the vast Basilica of St. Peter in Rome, St. Paul’s in London, and the church of the Invalides in Paris or the one at Val-de-Grace, the Sorbonne, etc., etc., and you will see that all are decorated in the manner described. Since man is always impressed by size, it is certain that a Temple built in honour of the Divinity should always be immense. Such a temple must be the most striking and the largest image of all that exists; it should, if that were possible, appear to be the universe. To be reduced to what is called necessity when designing a temple is to forget one’s subject. Why then does St. Peter’s in Rome appear much smaller than it is? This intolerable defect is due to the fact that the Architect has not given an impression of space by the mere presence of the numerous objects a large space should naturally contain but instead has reduced the overall effect by making each object of colossal proportions; and thus, instead of building big, as artists say, what he has built is gigantic. When I observed that a Temple should appear large, I was not referring only to its size. I meant to include the use of that ingenious technique which makes it possible to extend and enlarge the impression we have; this is done by juxtaposing objects in such a way that their overall effect is fully developed as we look at them, and by arranging them in such a way that we appreciate their multiplicity, the successive aspects in which they are revealed to us are removed continuously until we can no longer count them. Such an effect is produced, for example, by the regular, symmetrical arrangement of a quincunx. If we stand outside, near one erf the-angles, the overall effect is developed to a maximum, for we can observe two of its surfaces at once.23 Thus the objects are arranged in such a way that all contribute to our enjoyment. Their multiplicity gives the effect of Opulence. The greatest magnificence and the most perfect symmetry, that is what results from the order that extends in every direction and multiplies them at our glance until we can no longer count them. By extending the sweep of an avenue so that its end is out of sight, the laws of optics and the effects of perspective give an impression of immensity; at each step, the objects appear in a new guise and our pleasure is renewed by a succession of different vistas. Finally, by some miracle which in fact is the result of our own movement but which we attribute to the objects around us, the latter seem to move with us, as if we had imparted Life to them.24 Allow us to make some further observations on St. Peter’s. Suppose, for example, that in the nave and side-aisles of this Temple, the straight, unweildy bases, which destroy the overall effect of the Temple with their size and thickness, were replaced by pleasing, delicate volumes and immense rows of peripheral columns in the Greek style; each one is separated from the next in such a way that our eye can wander over the whole expanse and absorb this multitude of forms, in the opulence of which the onlooker can lose himself, for their attractiveness always leads him to believe that they are even more numerous. Who can doubt but that this temple, the dimensions of which are reduced by the order of gigantic arcades that extend everywhere, would then appear infinitely larger, for the methods which we have just described (as we know) far from reducing its size, greatly help to make it appear much larger. In the light of these remarks, which are based only on known facts, I consider that I am entitled to suggest that there is a serious defect in a work of architecture when the overall effect reduces its size. And all St. Peter’s apologists were wrong when they claimed to have proved that this defect was a source of beauty! An impression of size has such power over our senses that even assumingJthat it is repulsive, it still arouses our admira-tion./AT Volcang) breathing fire and death has a repulsive beauty! ^ It is therefore true that sixaisinexitabjy aUiedwitiLbeauty and that, in-different acceptations, i.e. whether we find 50ects5eaang;Or-whether we find them repulsiye, the fact that-.therf)appear large) in any respect whatsoever, is indicative.