40 THE BUILDING NEWS. JAN. 12, 1872.
general composition that it is quite dis- tinctively Italian, and might be taken for a work of the succeeding century. It is remarked that Vasari constantly speaks of Alberti, and of Brunelleschi also, as having furnished the model for this or that building, the execution of which appears to have been placed in charge of some practical superintendent, architect, or sculp- tor. This excellent andmost necessary custom, we regret to say, has now almost completely fallen into disuse, and yet it is admitted that drawings alone afford a most fallacious idea of the true character and merits of a building. Thus, Vasari observes that ‘“ the works designed by Alberti for Mantua were executed by a certain Luca, also a Floren- tine, who continuing ever after to dwell in the city, died there . . . Andthe good fortune of Leon Battista was not small in thus having friends, who, comprehending his desires, were both able and willing to serve him ; for, as architects cannot always be at the work, it is of the utmost advantage to them to have afaithful and friendly assistant, and if no other ever knew this, I know it well, and that by long experience.” This Luca was “the Florentine architect,” Luca Fanelli, who superintended the carrying out of many of Brunelleschi’s works, especially the Pitti palace. Nor was Alberti more happy in his attempts at painting, and Vasari, never sparing of praise where it is possible, admits that he “did not perform any great work or execute pictures of much beauty.” Indeed, we must respect Alberti rather asan organiser of the reyived system of architecture and as a geometrician than as an artist, and his fame depends more upon his written than his material works. Nor does he appear to have left pupils who were imbued with his manner, as Brunelleschi did, and we may conclude finally in our estimate of him that Vasari is not far wrong when heremarks that, “ such is the force of his writings, and so extensive has been their influence on the pens and words of the learned, his contemporaries and others, that he was, in fact, superior to all those, who have, on the other hand, greatly surpassed him in their works.” It is especi- ally in this respect that his name will always hold a high place among the earliest revivers of the old Roman style in modern Ttaly. ——————— PEDESTALS. By Tuomas Morris. (Continued from p. 479, Vol. XXTI.). IBBS designed several monuments, and no works demand a more perfect knowledge of decorative architecture, or more imaginative and elegant feeling. In all ages it has been customary to honour the worthy dead by some kind of sacrifice, and in Christian times it has assumed the form of elaborate memorials. The ancients, indeed, although they slew victims and exhibited spectacles, made other and worthier displays of esteem. They made grand erections like the mausoleum of Hadrian, as well as smaller but more exquisite objects of com- memoration. Among the fragments of Etrurian art may be found the altar-tomb with bas-reliefs of journeying and leaye-taking, besides the recumbent figure in the round. The monument of Thrasyllus, at Athens, is not distinguishable from modern work in point of design, unless we yield to it the meed of superiority. But Christian Italy furnishes abundant, varied, carefully-conceived, and highly-finished ex- amples. The tomb of Giovanni di Castro in a chapel of S. M. del Popolo, Rome, has beautiful attached pedestals, with the Cardinal’s armorial insignia, and surmounted by draped female figures of most grace- ful character. Between such figures rests the sculp- tured sarcophagus of the deceased. If marble beauty has power to soften or defeat oblivion it is exerted here. Detached pedestals of lofty proportion support figures at the corners of an altar atS. Mark, Venice. In the Capella del Cardinale, Zeno, are columns on very highly - sculptured circular pedestals. The monument of Doge Andrea Vendramin has elaborate
octagonal pedestals, on which are figures of warriors in Roman costume, but without weapons. InS. Eustorgio, at Milan, is a monument to §. Peter Martyr—a kind of square sarcophagus, supported by figures of the virtues, standing on pedestals that, besides the ordinary plinth, die, and surbase, of low proportion, have cushions with pairs of bulls, lions, and other animals symbolical of the statues above. Behind the standing figures are shafts whose capi- tals break into foliage about the heads. At the tomb of Gaston de Foix (shown in Robinson’s photo- graphs) the pedestals have projecting plinths, so that a doubleseries of figures are supported, namely—those standing on the top and those seated on the plinths. For enriched pedestals, we must search among sepulchres. Ornament is nowhere lavished as on tombs. Architecture puts on embroidered robes to grace the memory of high example past. The monument to John Holles, Duke of Newcastle, in the north transept of Westminster Abbey, is on a scale to oceupy one of the arches next the eastern aisle. A substructure of base, die, and cornice is broken into five pedestals. That in the centre bears an inscrip- tion and sustains the sarcophagus, on which is a re- clining figure of the duke. The next on either side supports a detached Corinthian column with its pro- jecting share of entablature and pediment. On the outer pedestals stand well-designed draped figures of Wisdom and Sincerity. The background consists of a pilastrade with full entablature, and an attic bearing the ducal armorials. Compared with many foreign examples the scheme is simple, and the pro- portions light, lofty, and elegant. It remains the handsomest design of the kind in the Abbey, and has created greater sensation than any similar work. Horace Walpole charged it with want of taste; but then we must recollect that his own was somewhat peculiar. His high training in school, college, and travel still left him among those who. rejoice in ec- centricity. “So much they scorn the crowd, that should the throng By chance go right, they purposely go wrong.” Just when James Stuart was engaging popular favour for Athenian art, Walpole asserted his ad- miration for Gothic; though had it been a century later, when a school of Blores and Butterfields, and Scotts and Streets had been formed, he would as- suredly have been a Greek, a very Spartan. Instead, however, of showing what Grecian architecture was not, he produced the Gothie abortion of Strawberry Hill. His quip, indeed, would never vex the honoured shade of Gibbs, but as he had the talent of uniting point and flippancy, his style has been aped, and his spent shafts picked up, to be hurled again with mis- taken aim and mischievous effect by those who lack his higher quality. The advance of art, however, is so dependent on public appreciation—the influence of sound criticism is so wholesome and useful—that although we may not always have able judges, it is necessary to insist on unbiassed judgments. Quitting the polished sphere of Walpole, we alight on the birthplace of Allan Cunningham, in Dumfries- shire. He was born in 1785, and apprenticed to a stonemason at the age of eleven. He displayed an early taste for literature, and coming to London when twenty-five found practice in writing for periodicals. The grand step in his career was that of becoming secretary to Cl:antrey, from whom he ultimately re- ceived a legacy of two thousand pounds. He seems to have adopted two points of belief which were very consistent with the atmosphere he breathed: First, none but sculptors should design monuments ; se- cond, none but Chantrey could produce them. He did not, perhaps, know, nor would it have suited his creed to learn, that the chief monuments in all past ages have been invented by architects, andare likely to be soin agesto come. He thought it worth notice that ‘‘ Gibbs was one of the architects who united the art of designing public monuments to that of making palaces and churches ;” though works by Sir C. Wren, Sir W. Chambers, James Stuart, and others are within the same walls as the Duke of Newcastle's. “Tf costly materials and picturesque extravagance be merits,” he allowes it to take rank with any there. Yet, to throw one more stone ata brother Scot, “ the figures,” he reminds us, ‘“ which have the story of the house of Newcastle to relate are perched upon tomb and pediment, like pigeons on a dovecote.” Little did he know or eare (though Gibbs and Rys- brook did) how figures were perched, and with what admirable effect, by Michael Angelo and the fore- most artists of Italy. Our British architect, with a delicate sense of propriety, has placed earthly forms on substantial pedestals, while those on less secure supports are winged ; and therefore theoretically as safe as the denizens of the dovecote themselves. Mr. Peter Cunningham follows on similar principles in his ‘“‘ Handbook to Westininster Abbey : its Art, Architecture, and Associations.” There is the same pro-Chantrey air throughout. He attacks
Gibbs in the introduction, and terms “the ponderous
monument to the Duke of Newcastle is a mere pile of
veined marble, fashioned into Corinthian columns
and Egyptian obelisks.” This intelligence may stand
for what it is worth, but a single gray slab of
pyramidal outline to relieve the figure of the duke,
is, perhaps, too playfully idealised into “ Egyptian
obelisks.” F
Dallaway complains of the too profuse introduction
by Gibbs and Kent of shapeless urns and stone globes
Urns are to be found here, but not obelisks. The
author moans at the thought that what suits S.
Paul's is sadly out of keeping with the aisles of S.
Peter's, but this is hardly noticeable to ordinary eyes,
for the grand style of the Abbey, its simplicity,
loftiness, and freedom from the fritter of tracery
adapts it as a casket for gems of art of every kind,
except possibly stained glass, which is being intro-
duced with an undoubted risk to the harmonious
effect of this grand interior. It is vain to decry or
to oppose the general current of taste; our province
is to elevate and purify. Things are not ordained
to be always as they were in Henry III.’s time. We
reverence and preserve his noble work, but must
adapt it to our proper needs. No longer wanted
wholly for a church, we convert its ambulatories
into galleries of sacred art. Henry himself has
shown how little seruple had a Medieval king. One
is almost driven to think he must have lived, like the
mummy, “before antiquity began;” for when the
Confessor’s Abbey lagged behind the age, he pulled
it down and built another, according to the best
light of his time. We have no occasion to destroy
whatever can be kept. Our plans and purposes are
so multifarious that we have employment for all the
systems of building ever invented; and the age is
marked by characteristics far more marvellous than
the chimera some pine for, a new style.
The spirit of derogation exhibited towards Gibbs’
attended another eminent architect. William Kent
was born in Yorkshire in 1685, and in youth was a
coach-painter; but attracting early patrons, was’
enabled to accompany Mr. Salman to Rome, where
he studied under Cavalier Luti, and gained a prize of
the second class at the Academy. At Rome he had
the happiness to make the acquaintance of “ Richard
Boyle, Earl of Burlington,* who had every quality
of a genius and artist, except envy.” This expres-
sion of Walpole’s provokes the wish that we were all
lords, and not envious geniuses and artists. ‘‘ Lord
Burlington,” he adds, ‘‘ the Apollo of arts, found a
proper priest in the person of Mr. Kent. He was a
painter, an architect, and the father of modern
gardening. In the first character he was below
mediocrity ; in the second he was a restorer of the
science, in the last an original, and the inventor of
an art that realises painting and improves Nature.
Mahomet imagined an Elysium, but Kent created
many. To compensate for his bad paintings, he had
an excellent taste for ornaments, and gave designs:
for most of the furniture at Haughton, as he did for
several other persons, though I question whether the
Romansadmitted regular architecture into their houses.
At least the discoveries at Herculaneum testify that
a light and fantastic architecture, of a very Indian
air, made a common decoration of private apart-
ments. Kent’s style, however, predominated during
his life, and his oracle was so much consulted by all
who affected taste, that nothing was thought com-
plete without his assistance.
The noble author laughingly enumerates the
architect’s occupation on plate, picture-frames, and
petticoats. “The gilt rails to the hermitage at
Richmond,” he continues, ‘‘ were but a trifling impro-
priety ; but his celebrated monument of Shakspeare
in the Abbey was preposterous. What an absurdity
to place busts at the angles of a pedestal, and at the
bottom of that pedestal!” To this last comment I
shall return. In gardening full amends are made—
e.g., ‘ Where objects were wanting to animate his
horizon, his taste as an architect could bestow im-
mediate termination. His buildings, his seats, his
temples, were more the work of his pencil than of his.
compasses. We owe the restoration of Greece and
the diffusion of architecture to his skill in land-
scape.”
Men whose lives are worth reciting are like those
who heap riches unto themselves and know not who
shall gather them—they cannot divine their bio-
graphers. Had Gibbs and Kent been able to choose
they would hardly have selected Mr, Allan Cunning-
ham. Of William Kent, to whom Lord Burlington
gave credit for arich vein of genius, attached him-
self through life, and finally laid his remains, with
honour and tenderness, in his own tomb, this author
says, he ‘is to be numbered among those fortunate
men who, without high qualities of mind or force of
imagination, obtain wealth and distinction through
- Among the works of Lord Burlington are included
those on his own estate of Lonsborough, in Yorkshire.
