To elucidate this part of our subject at all satisfactorily would
require a great number of drawings; accordingly we must make shift
as well as we can without them, leaving the student to turn to other
works for examples,—should he, as we trust he will, have imbibed
from our remarks any relish for the study of the Orders by accurate
comparison of various examples of one and the same Order. Neither
the Romans nor their modern successors appear to have comprehended
the genius of the Ionic Order any more than of the Doric. Their best
imitations, both of the one and the other, were of but a bungling
kind. They certainly had no great affection for either, for we find
comparatively very few instances of them in Roman remains. As treated
by them, the Ionic capital was not only greatly impoverished, but
deformed also,—impoverished by the volutes being greatly reduced in
size, and consequently in importance also, as characteristic marks of
the Order,—and deformed, owing to the tasteless treatment of it in
other respects. Instead of the gracefully flowing _festoon_ hem, or
mouldings over the echinus, which seems to connect the two volutes or
sides of the face of the capital together, there is a straight line
without any moulding to it, and the echinus, projecting before it,
produces an appearance of clumsiness—of the several members not being
properly adjusted to each other. As in all the Greek examples, the
echinus of the capital, which passes behind the volutes, is invariably
carved with that sort of pattern which workmen call ‘eggs and darts,’
_ova_ or egg-shaped ornaments, almost naturally resulting from the
contour of the moulding before it is cut; and the echinus of the
Ionic, being always so carved, is on that account distinguished by the
name of _ovolo_,—not because its section or profile is any portion
of an oval or elliptic curve; for among other things the Roman style
differs from the Greek in having all its moulding, both convex and
concave, formed of portions of circles, by which its details become
less elegant in contour. But we cannot enter into such niceties in a
mere rudimentary work. Even in the best Roman and modern examples, the
volutes are decidedly inferior to Greek, being comparatively tame and
meagre, yet coarse also. Italian Architects have sometimes made them
so small and insignificant that they give scarcely any character to
the capital, or render it distinguishable, at a little distance, from
the Doric, its general mass being no greater. The spiral makes fewer
revolutions, and the _hem_ or moulding which forms it is flat, as is
also the inter-spiral or general surface of the volute, which has never
any secondary spirals upon it, though that and the _intervolute_ are
sometimes enriched with foliage.
Of the Roman Ionic Order, as a whole, we know very little, there being
only three accredited examples of it, viz. the Theatre of Marcellus,
the Temple of Fortuna Virilis, and the Temple of Concord. Of the first
of these, the capital is the simplest and plainest, and also the
smallest in its proportions; that of the second is by very far the
best, its volutes retaining most of the Greek character; and that of
the third is remarkable, if not for its ugliness in other respects,
for its volutes being turned outwards diagonally, so as to present
four equal faces,—a mode afterwards _re-invented_ and brought up as a
novelty by Scamozzi, in honour of whom it has since been distinguished
by the name of the Scamozzi capital. But if there are few ancient
buildings remaining of the Roman Ionic Order, there are numerous
detached specimens of it in antique columns that have been preserved by
having been made use of in other buildings, or deposited in collections
of sculpture. Many of these have been delineated and published by
Piranesi and others; and they are so numerous and so varied that we
cannot pretend either to classify them, or to particularize even the
principal ones. All that we can here say is, that although they fall
far short of the refined taste exhibited in Greek examples, some of
them possess considerable merit, and supply ideas for other and better
varieties. They also serve to convince us that, like the Greeks, the
Romans did not abide by a single stereotype pattern for each Order:
the attempt to establish such uniformity and conformity to rule was
reserved for the Palladios and Vignolas of the 16th century.
There is a fine antique example of the kind in the British Museum, in
which the volutes are placed diagonally, and beneath each face of the
capital there is not a mere flat mask, but a head, cut out in bold
relief, all of them different from each other. The whole is excellently
well composed, and highly interesting as a study. One of the varieties
of Ionic capitals shown by Piranesi is that from a column in the Church
of Santa Maria Transtevere at Rome, which is ornamented on its face
with a small head or bust upon the face of the intervolute and abacus,
and the eye of the volutes themselves is unusually large, and contains
a small half-length female figure carved upon it,—which, though it
can be distinctly seen in a drawing, can be hardly perceptible in the
column itself. The only other variety of or _invention_ for the Ionic
capital that we can notice is one that has frequently been practised by
Italian Architects, and which may be distinguished as the _festoon_ or
festooned capital, the volutes being turned diagonally, and a festoon
being suspended from the eye one volute to that of the other beneath
each face. This not only gives variety and richness to the capital, but
by increasing its volume or bulk, increases its importance also, and
produces great play of light and shade: there is harmony together with
diversity in the combination of forms, the curve of the festoon being,
though dissimilar, in agreement with the outline of the volutes. The
columns of the circular portico to the Church in Langham Place have
capitals of this description, in which cherub heads are introduced into
the festoons; and so far as the mere capitals go, that specimen of
Ionic is entitled to much praise: the misfortune is, that the Order is
not satisfactory as a whole; for the increased richness of the capitals
requires that there should be a corresponding degree of richness given
to the entablature. At present there is no proportion—that is, with
regard to decoration—observed; for the same entablature, or cornice at
least, which is in keeping with a smaller and plainer capital, cannot
be equally adapted to a larger and more ornate one, but partakes of
either excess, or the ‘too much’ in the one case, or of deficiency, or
the ‘too little’ in the other,—not perhaps as to size, but in regard
to the _quantum_ of embellishment. To obviate the meagreness and
insignificance of the usual Italian Ionic capital, Sansovino and some
others have frequently given it a necking, either plain or enriched,
which, even when plain, greatly improves the general appearance of the
column by increasing the depth of the capital and reducing the height
of the shaft. To make this the clearer, let us, without pretending
at all to exactness, call the column nine diameters high, and the
capital either half a diameter, or a whole one, accordingly as it is
without or with a necking: now in the first case the capital will be
to the shaft (base included) only as one to _seventeen_, whereas in
the other it becomes as one to _eight_; which is not at all too much,
while the other way the shaft is much too lanky, and the capital too
low,—as is probably felt by those who cannot explain the cause of such
disagreement and disproportion.
ENTABLATURE.—There is not much to say, at least there is no occasion
for saying much, relative to this part of the Roman and Modern Ionic
Order. The ancient examples of it are by far too few to admit of any
general laws for it being derived from them; nor are the examples
themselves very satisfactory. That of the Ionic of the Theatre of
Marcellus is, perhaps, the best upon the whole, and seems to have
been that which has guided the Moderns in the composition of their
entablature, although they have very greatly diminished the proportions
of the cornice, which is there nearly equal to both architrave and
frieze together. In the Athenian Ionic we may set down the architrave,
frieze, and cornice as about 50, 50, and 35 minutes respectively,
making altogether two diameters and 15 minutes (or a quarter of a
diameter); therefore the cornice is to each of the other two divisions
of the entablature only as 35 to 50. In the Roman Ionic, on the
contrary, the cornice is by much the largest division: in the Fortuna
Virilis example the measures are,—architrave 38', frieze 19', cornice
70'; in that of the Theatre of Marcellus, 43'—36'—66', making the
entire entablature 127', or 2 diameters 7'. Although modern Architects
vary from these proportions, and some of them make the frieze equal
to or more than the architrave, they all agree—in doctrine at least,
if not in practice—in making the cornice the largest division of the
entablature; and as the projection is usually equal to its height,
or thereabouts, the cornice thus gains in importance both ways, and,
as far as its mere proportions are concerned, becomes an adequate
finishing to the entire Order. This latter mode certainly appears
more in accordance with artistic principle: shall we then presume
to say that the Greeks were wrong in their treatment of the Ionic
cornice?—Well, let us say then, that they were not quite so right as
they might have been. To us, the Asiatic Ionic cornice (for instance
that of the Priene Order) is far more satisfactory than either the
Hellenic or Athenian; and in our opinion it would require a cornice
richer still, to correspond with the highly elaborated Erechtheum
capital, and maintain due artistic keeping in the whole of that Order.
These remarks partake, perhaps, too much of digression: we will
therefore dismiss them, and the cornice also, merely adding that either
dentels, or larger plain blocks, placed rather wide apart from each
other, are considered the proper characteristic marks of the Ionic
cornice.
There is nothing in either the architrave or the frieze that calls
for observation, except that the Moderns have frequently given to
this Order, by way of distinction, a convex frieze, technically
termed a _pulvinated_ one from its fancied resemblance to a cushion
(_pulvinar_), whose sides swell out by compression when sat upon. A
frieze of the kind occurs in what is otherwise a very corrupt specimen
of the Order, in the Baths of Diocletian. It would be absurd to
suppose that such form of frieze originated in an imitation of the
thing after which it is now named; and there are two motives, either
of which, or both combined, may have led to it. The first of them is,
that such curvature in the face of the frieze may have been thought
very suitable for the Ionic Order, as agreeing with the curved forms
predominating in the character of the capital, namely, the volutes.
The second is, that a convex surface produces greater diversity of
light and shade than a plain one; and coming between the architrave
and cornice, is sufficiently distinguished by contour alone. Still it
must be admitted that such form is somewhat too arbitrary and fanciful
to be in accordance with strict architectural principles. It is well
enough suited for interiors, or for entablatures upon a small scale,
such as those of doors and windows, but not for a large external
Order. The pulvinated frieze occurs frequently in the Cinque-cento and
Renaissance styles, and in our own English Renaissance, or Elizabethan.
An instance of it may be seen in that well-known and celebrated piece
of architecture by Jones, the front of Whitehall Chapel, whose Ionic
Order generally will convey an idea of the Italian mode of treating
it. And it so happens that the tasteful little screen front of Dover
House (added by Holland to the original mansion), on the opposite
side of the street, offers an example of the Ilissus Ionic, whereby
immediate comparison between the two styles may easily be made. Another
specimen of Italian Ionic, and of Italian Doric, is the new portion
lately added to the Carlton Club House, Pall Mall, which is all but a
literal copy from Sansovino’s Library of St. Mark at Venice. Sansovino
seems there to have aimed at the greatest possible richness for both
Orders; and in his building the Doric metopes are sculptured, but are
left plain in the Club House, although such decoration for them would
have been novelty here, and would have brought that lower Order more
into keeping with the upper one. The shafts of the columns are not
fluted as in the Italian building, but for very sufficient reason:
being of dark polished granite, they would have acquired no great
richness in consequence of their being so cut; on the contrary, the
effect of the material itself would have been impaired. The Ionic
capitals have an ornamented necking, which is here not only a beauty
but a great propriety, because without it the capitals would have
looked diminutive, more especially beneath such a greatly exaggerated
entablature. Tested by ordinary rules, this last must be pronounced
monstrous, licentious in the extreme, perhaps downright barbarous; and,
no doubt, would be so, were it not protected by the name of Sansovino.
His English copyist has therefore sufficient authority for it,—not so,
Sansovino himself: whence, then, did he get his _precedent_? Well, he
dispensed with precedent, and using the privilege of a Master in his
Art, ventured beyond its written rules and conventionalities,—ventured
where he might have failed, and exposed himself to derision,—but
succeeded, and has been crowned by applause. In Art, as in other
things, success sanctifies enterprize: if you fail, the world calls
you a madman or fool; if you succeed, it bows down to you as a genius.
It must be confessed that such an entablature as Sansovino has there
given his Ionic Order would be nothing less than monstrous, did the
Order itself constitute the edifice, as in the antique temple; instead
of which, the two Orders there introduced are no more than ornamental
accessories, and the greatly enlarged entablature of the upper one is
to be regarded as proportioned with reference not so much to its own
columns as to the general mass of the entire façade. It may be as well
to remark here, that both the Carlton Club House and Whitehall Chapel
are instances of _super-columniation_, or two Orders placed one over
the other—in the former building, an Ionic over a Doric—in the latter,
a Corinthian over an Ionic Order. And in both cases the columns are
_attached_ or _engaged_, as is said of columns which are united to the
face of a wall so as not to project from it as much as their diameter,
but only about half or three-quarters of it, and are therefore termed
respectively _half_ or _three-quarter_ columns.