corner-suites out of the eighty. These have direct sunlight on either
one or both of their exposed fronts, and may be estimated as worth
fifty per cent more than the rest. In other words, 3/10 of the whole
available room space is worth fifty per cent more, and 7/10
correspondingly less than the average price of $3.65 per foot.
Therefore, $3.65 x 1-1/2 = $5.47 = price of corner-suites per foot,
3/10 x the total area 169,296 square feet = 50,788 square feet x $5.47
= $277,810, which, deducted from $617,771, leaves $339,961 to
represent the total cost of the remaining 7/10. The total area 169,296
x 7/10 = 118,507 square feet of available space in the inner-suites.
Hence $339,961/118,507 = $2.86 as the price per square foot of the
inner-suites, or all suites which are not corner-suites.
Now, as our estimates on the "tower" were made on the basis of its
being an inner building in a block and not a corner-house, our
estimates for the "flat" should be on a basis of $2.86, instead of
$3.65, as taken. Therefore, our suite of 4,859 square feet would be
but $13,896 if the "flat" were any other than a corner one, and if the
public kitchen and café were used, it would be $11,242, or _but a
little more than a quarter of that of the "tower!"_
The foregoing figures are easily explained, and their correctness
verified by the following simple diagrams and considerations:
[Illustration: Figure 2.]
In Figure 2 the shaded parts of the plans represent the unavailable
room which, under the apartment-house system, are rendered
unnecessary, and they are practically wasted. Thus the eighty
families, by uniting their eighty homes in one coöperative apartment,
save 156 staircases consisting of seventy-six front and eighty back
staircases, seventy-eight furnaces, seventy-nine laundries, etc., and
nearly all the space they occupy, and the land, foundation and roof
they represent.
[Illustration: Figure 3.]
This waste space may be graphically shown by the diagrams in Figure 3.
The large black-and-white line represents the "tower," and the shorter
the "flat." The black part of each line denotes unavailable, and the
white part available room, the sum of the two denoting the total
cubical contents of each dwelling. The white parts of the lines
measure the same length in each case, because the amount of available
room in "tower" and "flat" is assumed at the outset to be the same.
Thus in the "tower," the front and back staircases and halls take up
22,000 cubic feet out of the total 106,000 cubic feet covered by the
entire building. In the "flat" the proportional part of the halls and
staircases for each suite is represented by a comparatively
insignificant quantity as shown.
Again, an enormous waste is shown in the flooring, roof and air-spaces
of the "tower," while this item is but a trifle in the "flat." The six
floors, each 16 inches thick, and the roofing make up together in the
"tower" 12,000 cubic feet, or nearly the equivalent of an entire
story. Add to this 12,000 cubic feet of air-space under the roof and
over the concrete, and we have in these items a waste of 24,000 cubic
feet, against only 4,000 in the "flat."
Thus we see that the waste space in the "tower" actually exceeds the
available. Yet it must be paid for at the same rate with the latter.
Deducting the waste in the "flat" from that in the "tower," we find
the balance of waste space in the "tower" to be equal to the
available, showing graphically that the "tower" must cost, in these
items alone, just twice as much as the "flat."
[Illustration: Figure 4.]
Figure 4 shows a block-plan on a very small scale of the
apartment-house, and a block-plan on the same scale of 40 "towers"
adjoining each other, and having the same available space as the
apartment-house. These plans show how much more land is required to
give the same accommodations (minus the conveniences and luxuries of
an apartment-house) in the "tower" system than in the "flat."
The shaded portions in each block-plan represent the aggregate of
available room in each case. This shows very strikingly what an
enormous proportion of land and material is wasted in the "tower"
system.
In short, the possible saving in first cost for each family adopting
the "flat" system of building lies between $14,265 and $28,758, making
an aggregate saving for the 80 families occupying the apartment of
between one and two millions of dollars.
The annual running expenses are also greatly in favor of the "flat"
system when the advantages of coöperation are used to its greatest
extent.
Eighty independent Irish cooks give way to a professional _chef_ and
half-a-dozen _attachés_. The wages and maintenance of the 80 cooks
would amount to an annual sum of not less than $40,000; those of the
_chef_ and his assistants to hardly $10,000, making in this one item a
possible annual saving of $30,000.
The management of the 80 independent Irish cooks, if possible at all,
could only be accomplished by the constant struggle of 80 worried and
largely inexperienced owners or their wives. The management of the
_chef_ and his _attachés_ could more easily be managed by a single
person, either selected from among the 80 families and suitably
recompensed, or employed as a professional manager at a regular
salary. Or the entire control of the _café_, and kitchen could be let
out by contract to some suitable caterer, if preferred.
Corresponding savings are evidently possible in every other department
of housekeeping, including steam-heating, ventilating, laundry-work,
lighting and elevator-work. In all of these particulars, coöperation,
judiciously conducted, has been shown to yield surprising economies.
But there are other advantages even more important than its economy in
favor of the "flat." Freedom from housekeeping cares has already been
touched upon. In the "tower," life is spent in training and treating
with servants, mechanics and market-men. The private cook is a volcano
in a house, slumbering at times, but always ready to burst forth into
destructive eruption. True repose is out of the question, and we are
told that "the motive for foreign travel of perhaps one-half of
Americans is rest from household cares and the enjoyment of good
attendance, freed from any responsibility in its organization and
management."
Security against burglary and fire is another. In a good
apartment-house, trained watchmen stand on guard night and day to
protect the occupants, and stand-pipes, hose and fire-buckets are
provided in all the halls, and kept in repair for emergency.
The family may leave their apartments for travel summer or winter,
knowing that their property is as secure as modern appliances, system
and ingenuity can make it. Not so with our isolated dwelling. The cost
of providing all these means of protection is too great to make them
practicable. The result is that the fear of burglary and fire at all
times causes uneasiness, particularly on the part of the wife during
the absence of her husband.
Beauty in the architectural arrangement of the rooms is a third
advantage of the "flat." In this it has all the advantage of the
double house or residence of the immensely rich. The rooms may be
grouped in a manner which renders possible the highest architectural
effect, whereas in the "tower" the perpendicular arrangement evidently
precludes such opportunity by limiting the design to a wearisome and
monotonous repetition from basement to attic.
No argument can be sustained against the "flat" on the ground of
transmission of sound or want of privacy and isolation, for sound may
be as fully deadened as in the "tower" by means of the 12-inch brick
separating walls shown in our plan, and the most improved deafening
treatment of the floor-joists.
Isolation may be made complete in the "flat," the private halls and
front doors of each suite being in every respect the equivalent of
those in the "tower"; the only difference being that with the "flat"
the outer world begins with the public hall and its elevator, while
with the "tower" it begins with the public street and its horse-car.
Add to these advantages the possibility for a greatly enlarged and
delightful social intercourse which a properly arranged and conducted
apartment-house provides, and we have as near an approach to the ideal
of a human habitation as has yet been devised.
J. P. PUTNAM.
ARCHITECTURE IN BROOKLYN.
[Illustration]
The city of Brooklyn has at last waked up to realize her size and
importance architecturally. Brooklyn, though growing very rapidly and
having many buildings of importance, has really had very little good
architecture, for the simple reason that the profession, not being in
any way organized, could not, as a rule, receive the treatment due
respectable architects. For this reason many young men who would not
be capable of practising elsewhere, have flocked to this city, and by
various methods, many of which are far from honorable, have succeeded
in getting control of most of the work. However, we hope for better
things.
The Brooklyn Institute some time ago decided to organize a Department
of Architecture, and for this purpose a meeting of architects was
called, which led to several more meetings and the attendance at these
was exceedingly hopeful for the new department, some forty or fifty
architects signifying their willingness to help along in the work;
finally a public meeting was held in the Institute on Friday December
13, at which some six or seven hundred persons were present, and the
Department was fully organized; the constitution carefully thought-out
at the previous meetings was adopted, and the following list of
officers chosen:
_President_, G. L. Morse; _Vice-President_, Louis De Coppet Berg;
_Secretary_, William B. Tubby; _Treasurer_, Gustave A. Jahn;
_Committee on Current Work_, Richard M. Upjohn, R. L. Daus and Louis
De Coppet Berg; _Committee on Museum and Library_, Walter E. Parfitt,
Pierre Le Brun; and Wm. Hamilton Gibson; _Committee on Competitions
and Awards_, R. L. Daus, D. E. Laub, Russell Sturgis; _Committee on
Professional Practice_, Walter Dickson, Albert F. D'Oench, Richard M.
Upjohn; _Committee on Social Intercourse_, H. P. Fowler, Charles T.
Mott and General Ingram.
During the necessary intervals of balloting, etc., the President, Mr.
George L. Morse, made a short address, setting forth the history of
the previous meetings, and congratulating the local architects on the
prospect of having a strong and well-organized society.
Mr. Louis De Coppet Berg, of the firm of J. C. Cady & Co., Architects,
then addressed the meeting as follows:--
When a young man enters a profession, and particularly
the profession of architecture, if perchance he gets
an original idea, or a little knowledge, he at once
becomes very secretive, tries to keep it all to
himself for fear some one else will benefit by it, and
marks all his drawings "The property of...," and "Not
to be copied, or used, without the consent of the
author, _under penalty of the law_." As he grows a
little older in his profession he begins to find out
that a few others have ideas as well as himself, and
know a little something once in a while; and as he
grows still older he finds that there are a great many
others, who know a great deal more than he does, and
who have a great many better ideas than he has; and
then it is, that he longs for communication with his
professional brethren, and he finds that, in order to
get the benefit of their ideas and knowledge, he must
freely communicate his own to them. Hence it is that
in most of the large cities we find some association
of architects; Brooklyn, however, the third city of
the Union, is unique in this respect, that it has
absolutely no place where professional architects can
meet and discuss the different problems of their
profession.
To remedy this evil, the Brooklyn Institute proposed
to establish a Department of Architecture, and for
this purpose called together a large number of local
architects.
Now, we have decided that, if we have any Department
at all, it shall be a live one; and this reminds me of
a squib I read in the paper the other day, telling
how, somewhere in Spain, they had unearthed an old
painting, which was pronounced a genuine Murillo. It
was said that the experts could not as yet determine
whether the subject of the cracked and dingy old
canvas was a Madonna or a Bull Fight, but that,
nevertheless, they did not hesitate to declare that it
was a great acquisition to art. Now, that is the
trouble with most associations of architects; if the
subject for discussion is only old, cracked and dingy
enough, they are happy. Nothing delights them more
than to spend all their time and energies in
discussing Etruscan or other antique architectures, or
the exact differentiations between the many styles of
architecture. Now, while we value the history of an
art, and shall give it all due attention, we propose
to remember that the modern architect, besides being
an artist, must be one of the most practical and
executive of business men.
We admit that our ancestors in the profession designed
beautiful castles, magnificent cathedrals and lovely
châteaux, but we remember that these castles, these
cathedrals, these châteaux were planned without any
comfort; that they had no plumbing devices, no methods
for cooking, no systems of heating or ventilation, and
no way of getting light but the miserable taper; while
to-day the architect, besides being a thorough artist,
who knows how to design and to color, besides being
thoroughly up in the history of his art, must know how
to plan for comfort, to construct for strength and
stability; must understand all the details of boilers,
machinery, dynamos, electric-wiring, heating and
ventilating systems, plumbing and sanitation, and
lastly must be able to manage the complicated finances
of large undertakings.
Now, to carry out these ideas in our work, we shall,
in the first place, establish a museum and library, to
which we shall welcome all gifts of books, pictures,
models, casts, etc., whether illustrating the
artistic, or the practical side of the profession.
Then we shall have a course of monthly, public
lectures by competent authorities, the subjects of
which will probably be very largely chosen from the
artistic side of the profession. We also propose to
have stated meetings of the Department monthly, at
which some carefully selected papers will be read by
experts, the subjects of which will be given out as
long in advance as possible, in order that all may be
thoroughly prepared for a full and open discussion;
and then, after these meetings, in order to promote
sociability amongst the members, and to show how
thoroughly practical we are, we propose to have
something to eat. We also hope later to establish
schools, not only for young men, but particularly for
draughtsmen, where they can be taught, not only the
art of drawing, but also the many practical branches
connected with the profession.
The meeting was also addressed by the Rev. Dr. Chas. H. Hall,
President of the Associate Members. He spoke at great length and kept
his audience intensely interested by describing his own acquaintance
with architecture, beginning with the original negro log-house down
South, then the prim buildings of old Andover and Harvard, and finally
how he saw the great former St. Ann's of Brooklyn, the likeness of
which, he said, could be seen any day on the piers of New York when
they were unloading dry-goods boxes; and how he finally went abroad
and saw the beautiful architecture of Paris, which he could not praise
enough. He was also unstinted in his praise of the modern beauty and
architecture of Washington. He also spoke of his visits to London,
and, while he admitted that Englishmen thought their architecture
beautiful, he took exception, and claimed that the great St. Paul's,
though beautiful to the English eye, was a cold barren building,
blacked with smoke inside and out, a place where you could not be
comfortable, nor hear the speaker at any distance. We regret that we
are not able to give a verbatim account of his witty address.
At the end of Dr. Hall's address, the lecturer of the evening,
Professor Russell Sturgis, architect, of New York, addressed the
meeting as follows, his subject being "The Study of Architecture,"
with particular reference to the architecture of to-day.
ADDRESS OF MR. RUSSELL STURGIS.
With regard to architecture and all the arts of decoration, there is a
strange difference between the practice of them, and such study as
looks toward practice, on the one hand, and the history and theory of
them, with such study as that involves, on the other. Quite completely
are these two studies separated, each from the other. A man may be
most active and successful as a practising designer, and successful in
an artistic way, too, with no knowledge and little thought of the
history of his own branch of art, and with little curiosity as to its
philosophy or its poetry. And, on the other hand, a man may be a very
earnest student, and a happy and delighted student of the history and
criticism of art, and know nothing, and care as little, about the
profession or practice of any art, or about studio ways and studio
traditions. I do not know that in any branch of human study this
distinction is so marked and so strong. This is to be regretted, for
many reasons, but it can hardly be done away with so long as the
community is generally careless of both the theoretical and the
practical--so long as the students and the practitioners alike feel
themselves nearly isolated units, floating in a sea of good-humored
indifference. This state of things only time can alter. Only time can
civilize our new community in intellectual and perspective matters;
but there are some other conditions which are more immediately in our
power to modify, perhaps--let us see:
It is as true as if it had not been repeated, even to fatigue and
boredom, that the arts of decoration have been in a bad way for a good
part of the century past, at least among some European and
Europeanized nations. I do not imagine that a Frenchman would admit
that architecture and the arts of decoration had ever languished in
his own society. Your cultivated Frenchman would say that some periods
were better than others, but that there were no bad periods; he would
say that, to be sure, the style of the First Napoleon's Empire was not
a very fortunate style,--too stiff, too absurdly pseudo-classic,
unworthy of France, a poor enough successor of the dainty and playful
art of Louis XV, or the somewhat more refined and restrained art of
Louis XVI: but he would say that it was art still, and the period a
not wholly inartistic period; and even of the dull times of the
Napoleon of Peace, from 1830 to 1848, while he would confess to a
great deal of languor and lack of public spirit of all sorts, except
in the struggle which the Romantic artists, headed by Delacroix, waged
with the Classicists, headed by Ingres; while he would admit that the
abundant wood-cuts and lithographs, the painting and statues much less
abundant even in proportion, and the buildings very few and
unimportant, were not sufficient to make up a great artistical epoch,
that is, for France; yet as for its being an epoch without art,--such
a thing as that, he would say France had not known since she was
France. And he would be right.
But if said of England it would be pretty nearly true, if it were said
that the whole amount of art of the decorative kind that existed in
England between 1810 and 1850, for instance, would fill but a small
museum, and that its quality would fill but slight requirements, it
would require a bold Anglophil to contradict. There came a dull pall,
like that of her own black fogs, over social London, and the
stucco-fronted languors of Baker Street and Portland Place are no
worse than were the dull monotony of the interiors behind them.
Veneered and polished mahogany furniture, very much too large and too
heavy for the rooms; black haircloth, like the grave clothes of Art,
for the covering of everything that could be sat upon; cold,
brownish-red curtains, of shiny but not lustrous material; silver
candlesticks of monstrous design,--these, and such as these, were the
decorative objects which our fathers or our grandfathers admired, or
felt that they must admire for want of better, during the unhappy
years that I have cited. The delicate carvings that the furniture of a
generation just previous had received, were forgotten. People put up
with Chippendale chairs in their dining-rooms because they had
belonged to their fathers and nothing special was offered to take
their place; but there is no record that they cared for them. The
richer and more fantastic carvings of Grinling Gibbons had never
obtained any general recognition nor availed to modify the woodwork of
the domestic interiors of England. The brocades and flowered silks
which the eighteenth century had revelled in, and if in England not
strong enough artistically to produce them itself, had brought into
England from other lands;--these were replaced by the dismal things I
have alluded to, and no vestige of them seems to have remained in the
parlors of that unhappy time.
Richness of costume had disappeared with the wars of the French
Revolution. Embroidered silk coats had given place gradually to
claret-colored and blue broadcloth, and this gave place to black, and
all variety in costume had disappeared completely; and now, from 1810
to 1850, fantastically varied and interesting house-furnishing and
decoration had followed, as I suppose it inevitably must follow;
costume, being, one fears, a necessary part of anything like a
prosperous artistic epoch.
Out of this gloomy depression the Anglo-Saxon world, in England and in
this country, is trying to emerge. It began its efforts with the
perfectly natural conviction that by studying the artistic history of
the past, something could be done to benefit the arts of the present.
The Gothic revival, which you have heard of so much, and which was
followed with real ardor and with unquestioning zeal by crowds of
devotees for years, beginning with, perhaps, 1840, was an attempt
along the most obvious lines,--along what seemed to be the line of
least resistance, to change the metaphor. To develop anew an old art,
which had flourished so greatly in the past,--how easy! and how
certain! How certain were the enthusiasts of that time, that by
earnestly poring over and closely analyzing and heartily loving the
buildings of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, such buildings,
and others like them, could be built in the nineteenth! How happy was
the conviction of all these men that it was not more difficult than
that! The secret of what had been done was to be found in the
phenomena themselves. There, in this parish church, in this cathedral,
lay the secret of their charm. Let us analyze first, they said, and
let us put together again the ingredients that our analysis shall have
discovered, and we will re-create the thing that we are in search of.
In like manner, in the minor arts, the people of 1850 felt, or some of
them did, that they did not know how to weave curtains that it was
worth any one's while to hang up, except to shut out the light and
shut in the warmth; that so far as beauty of texture, beauty of
pattern, and beauty of color went, they were powerless to produce
anything of any avail. But they saw that the Venetians of the
sixteenth century and the Florentines of the seventeenth century and
the French of the eighteenth century had produced splendid stuffs; and
although there were no museums in those days that condescended to
anything so humble, such stuffs were still to be bought of the
bric-à-brac dealers, and very cheap, too, and still existed, rolled up
in some old garrets. By studying them, surely the art of making others
like them could be learned. And so around the whole circle of the arts
of decoration, it was believed, and in thoroughly good faith, and
with, as it seemed, perfectly good reason, that the study of what had
been would suffice, with zeal and patience and good will, to the
production of what should be.