Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
THE DECORATION OF HOUSES
Charles Scribner's
Sons
New York
1914
The
Decoration of
Houses
By
Edith Wharton
and
Ogden Codman Jr.
Copyright, 1897, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
"_Une forme doit être belle en elle-même et on ne doit jamais compter
sur le décor appliqué pour en sauver les imperfections._"
HENRI MAYEUX: _La Composition Décorative_.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION xix
I THE HISTORICAL TRADITION 1
II ROOMS IN GENERAL 17
III WALLS 31
IV DOORS 48
V WINDOWS 64
VI FIREPLACES 74
VII CEILINGS AND FLOORS 89
VIII ENTRANCE AND VESTIBULE 103
IX HALL AND STAIRS 106
X THE DRAWING-ROOM, BOUDOIR, AND MORNING-ROOM 122
XI GALA ROOMS: BALL-ROOM, SALOON, MUSIC-ROOM, GALLERY 134
XII THE LIBRARY, SMOKING-ROOM, AND "DEN" 145
XIII THE DINING-ROOM 155
XIV BEDROOMS 162
XV THE SCHOOL-ROOM AND NURSERIES 173
XVI BRIC-À-BRAC 184
CONCLUSION 196
INDEX 199
LIST OF PLATES
FACING PAGE
I ITALIAN GOTHIC CHEST 1
II FRENCH ARM-CHAIRS, XV AND XVI CENTURIES 6
III FRENCH _Armoire_, XVI CENTURY 10
IV FRENCH SOFA AND ARM-CHAIR, LOUIS XIV PERIOD 12
V ROOM IN THE GRAND TRIANON, VERSAILLES 14
VI FRENCH ARM-CHAIR, LOUIS XV PERIOD 16
VII FRENCH _Bergère_, LOUIS XVI PERIOD 20
VIII FRENCH _Bergère_, LOUIS XVI PERIOD 24
IX FRENCH SOFA, LOUIS XV PERIOD 28
X FRENCH MARQUETRY TABLE, LOUIS XVI PERIOD 30
XI DRAWING-ROOM, HOUSE IN BERKELEY SQUARE, LONDON 34
XII ROOM IN THE VILLA VERTEMATI 38
XIII DRAWING-ROOM AT EASTON NESTON HALL 42
XIV DOORWAY, DUCAL PALACE, MANTUA 48
XV SALA DEI CAVALLI, PALAZZO DEL T 54
XVI DOOR IN THE SALA DELLO ZODIACO, DUCAL PALACE,
MANTUA 58
XVII EXAMPLES OF MODERN FRENCH LOCKSMITHS' WORK 60
XVIII CARVED DOOR, PALACE OF VERSAILLES 62
XIX SALON DES MALACHITES, GRAND TRIANON, VERSAILLES 68
XX MANTELPIECE, DUCAL PALACE, URBINO 74
XXI MANTELPIECE, VILLA GIACOMELLI 78
XXII FRENCH FIRE-SCREEN, LOUIS XIV PERIOD 86
XXIII CARVED WOODEN CEILING, VILLA VERTEMATI 90
XXIV CEILING IN PALAIS DE JUSTICE, RENNES 92
XXV CEILING OF THE SALA DEGLI SPOSI, DUCAL PALACE,
MANTUA 96
XXVI CEILING IN THE STYLE OF BÉRAIN 100
XXVII CEILING IN THE CHÂTEAU OF CHANTILLY 102
XXVIII ANTECHAMBER, VILLA CAMBIASO, GENOA 104
XXIX ANTECHAMBER, DURAZZO PALACE, GENOA 106
XXX STAIRCASE, PARODI PALACE, GENOA 108
XXXI STAIRCASE, HÔTEL DE VILLE, NANCY 112
XXXII STAIRCASE, PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 116
XXXIII FRENCH _Armoire_, LOUIS XIV PERIOD 120
XXXIV SALA DELLA MADDALENA, ROYAL PALACE, GENOA 122
XXXV CONSOLE IN PETIT TRIANON, VERSAILLES 124
XXXVI SALON, PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 126
XXXVII ROOM IN THE PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 128
XXXVIII _Lit de Repos_, EARLY LOUIS XV PERIOD 130
XXXIX _Lit de Repos_, LOUIS XV PERIOD 130
XL PAINTED WALL-PANEL AND DOOR, CHANTILLY 132
XLI FRENCH BOUDOIR, LOUIS XVI PERIOD 132
XLII _Salon à l'italienne_ 136
XLIII BALL-ROOM, ROYAL PALACE, GENOA 138
XLIV SALOON, VILLA VERTEMATI 140
XLV SALA DELLO ZODIACO, DUCAL PALACE, MANTUA 140
XLVI FRENCH TABLE, TRANSITION BETWEEN LOUIS XIV AND
LOUIS XV PERIODS 142
XLVII LIBRARY OF LOUIS XVI, PALACE OF VERSAILLES 144
XLVIII SMALL LIBRARY, AUDLEY END 146
XLIX FRENCH WRITING-CHAIR, LOUIS XV PERIOD 150
L DINING-ROOM, PALACE OF COMPIÈGNE 154
LI DINING-ROOM FOUNTAIN, PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 156
LII FRENCH DINING-CHAIR, LOUIS XIV PERIOD 158
LIII FRENCH DINING-CHAIR, LOUIS XVI PERIOD 158
LIV BEDROOM, PALACE OF FONTAINEBLEAU 162
LV BATH-ROOM, PITTI PALACE, FLORENCE 168
LVI BRONZE ANDIRON, XVI CENTURY 184
BOOKS CONSULTED
FRENCH
ANDROUET DU CERCEAU, JACQUES.
Les Plus Excellents Bâtiments de France. _Paris, 1607._
LE MUET, PIERRE.
Manière de Bien Bâtir pour toutes sortes de Personnes.
OPPENORD, GILLES MARIE.
Oeuvres. _1750._
MARIETTE, PIERRE JEAN.
L'Architecture Françoise. _1727._
BRISEUX, CHARLES ÉTIENNE.
L'Art de Bâtir les Maisons de Campagne. _Paris, 1743._
LALONDE, FRANÇOIS RICHARD DE.
Recueil de ses Oeuvres.
AVILER, C. A. D'.
Cours d'Architecture. _1760._
BLONDEL, JACQUES FRANÇOIS.
Architecture Françoise. _Paris, 1752._
Cours d'Architecture. _Paris, 1771-77._
De la Distribution des Maisons de Plaisance et de la
Décoration des Édifices. _Paris, 1737._
ROUBO, A. J., FILS.
L'Art du Menuisier.
HÉRÉ DE CORNY, EMMANUEL.
Recueil des Plans, Élévations et Coupes des Châteaux,
Jardins et Dépendances que le Roi de Pologne occupe en
Lorraine. _Paris, n. d._
PERCIER ET FONTAINE.
Choix des plus Célèbres Maisons de Plaisance de Rome et de
ses Environs. _Paris, 1809._
Palais, Maisons, et autres Édifices Modernes dessinés à
Rome. _Paris, 1798._
Résidences des Souverains. _Paris, 1833._
KRAFFT ET RANSONNETTE.
Plans, Coupes, et Élévations des plus belles Maisons et
Hôtels construits à Paris et dans les Environs. _Paris,
1801._
DURAND, JEAN NICOLAS LOUIS.
Recueil et Parallèle des Édifices de tout Genre. _Paris,
1800._
Précis des Leçons d'Architecture données à l'École Royale
Polytechnique. _Paris, 1823._
QUATREMÈRE DE QUINCY, A. C.
Histoire de la Vie et des Ouvrages des plus Célèbres
Architectes du XIe siècle jusqu'à la fin du XVIII siècle.
_Paris, 1830._
PELLASSY DE L'OUSLE.
Histoire du Palais de Compiègne. _Paris, n. d._
LETAROUILLY, PAUL MARIE.
Édifices de Rome Moderne. _Paris, 1825-57._
RAMÉE, DANIEL.
Histoire Générale de l'Architecture. _Paris, 1862._
Meubles Religieux et Civils Conservés dans les principaux
Monuments et Musées de l'Europe.
VIOLLET LE DUC, EUGÈNE EMMANUEL.
Dictionnaire Raisonné de l'Architecture Française du XIe au
XVIe siècle. _Paris, 1868._
SAUVAGEOT, CLAUDE.
Palais, Châteaux, Hôtels et Maisons de France du XVe au
XVIIIe siècle.
DALY, CÉSAR.
Motifs Historiques d'Architecture et de Sculpture
d'Ornement.
ROUYER ET DARCEL.
L'Art Architectural en France depuis François Ier jusqu'à
Louis XIV.
HAVARD, HENRY.
Dictionnaire de l'Ameublement et de la Décoration depuis le
XIIIe siècle jusqu'à nos Jours. _Paris, n. d._
Les Arts de l'Ameublement.
GUILMARD, D.
Les Maîtres Ornemanistes. _Paris, 1880._
BAUCHAL, CHARLES.
Dictionnaire des Architectes Français. _Paris, 1887._
ROUAIX, PAUL.
Les Styles. _Paris, n. d._
BIBLIOTHÈQUE DE L'ENSEIGNEMENT DES BEAUX ARTS.
Maison Quantin, _Paris_.
ENGLISH
WARE, ISAAC.
A Complete Body of Architecture. _London, 1756._
BRETTINGHAM, MATTHEW.
Plans, Elevations and Sections of Holkham in Norfolk, the
Seat of the late Earl of Leicester. _London, 1761._
CAMPBELL, COLEN.
Vitruvius Britannicus; or, The British Architect. _London,
1771._
ADAM, ROBERT AND JAMES.
The Works in Architecture. _London, 1773-1822._
HEPPLEWHITE, A.
The Cabinet-Maker and Upholsterer's Guide.
SHERATON, THOMAS.
The Cabinet-Maker's Dictionary. _London, 1803._
PAIN, WILLIAM.
The British Palladio; or The Builder's General Assistant.
_London, 1797._
SOANE, SIR JOHN.
Sketches in Architecture. _London, 1793._
HAKEWILL, ARTHUR WILLIAM.
General Plan and External Details, with Picturesque
Illustrations, of Thorpe Hall, Peterborough.
LEWIS, JAMES.
Original Designs in Architecture.
PYNE, WILLIAM HENRY.
History of the Royal Residences of Windsor Castle, St.
James's Palace, Carlton House, Kensington Palace, Hampton
Court, Buckingham Palace, and Frogmore. _London, 1819._
GWILT, JOSEPH.
Encyclopedia of Architecture. New edition. _Longman's,
1895._
FERGUSSON, JAMES.
History of Architecture. _London, 1874._
History of the Modern Styles of Architecture. Third edition,
revised by Robert Kerr. _London, 1891._
GOTCH, JOHN ALFRED.
Architecture of the Renaissance in England.
HEATON, JOHN ALDAM.
Furniture and Decoration in England in the Eighteenth
Century.
ROSENGARTEN.
Handbook of Architectural Styles. _New York, 1876._
HORNE, H. P.
The Binding of Books. _London, 1894._
LOFTIE, W. J.
Inigo Jones and Christopher Wren. _London, 1893._
KERR, ROBERT.
The English Gentleman's House. _London, 1865._
STEVENSON, J. J.
House Architecture. _London, 1880._
GERMAN AND ITALIAN
BURCKHARDT, JACOB.
Architektur der Renaissance in Italien. _Stuttgart, 1891._
REINHARDT.
Palast Architektur von Ober Italien und Toskana.
GURLITT, CORNELIUS.
Geschichte des Barockstiles in Italien. _Stuttgart, 1887._
EBE, GUSTAV.
Die Spät-Renaissance. _Berlin, 1886._
LA VILLA BORGHESE, FUORI DI PORTA PINCIANA, CON L'ORNAMENTI
CHE SI OSSERVANO NEL DI LEI PALAZZO. _Roma, 1700._
INTRA, G. B.
Mantova nei suoi Monumenti.
LUZIO E RENIER.
Mantova e Urbino. _Torino-Roma, 1893._
MOLMENTI, POMPEO.
La Storia di Venezia nella Vita Privata. _Torino, 1885._
MALAMANI, VITTORIO.
Il Settecento a Venezia. _Milano, 1895._
LA VITA ITALIANA NEL SEICENTO. CONFERENZE TENUTE A FIRENZE
NEL 1890.
INTRODUCTION
Rooms may be decorated in two ways: by a superficial application of
ornament totally independent of structure, or by means of those
architectural features which are part of the organism of every house,
inside as well as out.
In the middle ages, when warfare and brigandage shaped the conditions
of life, and men camped in their castles much as they did in their
tents, it was natural that decorations should be portable, and that
the naked walls of the mediæval chamber should be hung with arras,
while a _ciel_, or ceiling, of cloth stretched across the open timbers
of its roof.
When life became more secure, and when the Italian conquests of the
Valois had acquainted men north of the Alps with the spirit of classic
tradition, proportion and the relation of voids to masses gradually
came to be regarded as the chief decorative values of the interior.
Portable hangings were in consequence replaced by architectural
ornament: in other words, the architecture of the room became its
decoration.
This architectural treatment held its own through every change of
taste until the second quarter of the present century; but since then
various influences have combined to sever the natural connection
between the outside of the modern house and its interior. In the
average house the architect's task seems virtually confined to the
elevations and floor-plan. The designing of what are to-day regarded
as insignificant details, such as mouldings, architraves, and
cornices, has become a perfunctory work, hurried over and unregarded;
and when this work is done, the upholsterer is called in to "decorate"
and furnish the rooms.
As the result of this division of labor, house-decoration has ceased
to be a branch of architecture. The upholsterer cannot be expected to
have the preliminary training necessary for architectural work, and it
is inevitable that in his hands form should be sacrificed to color and
composition to detail. In his ignorance of the legitimate means of
producing certain effects, he is driven to all manner of expedients,
the result of which is a piling up of heterogeneous ornament, a
multiplication of incongruous effects; and lacking, as he does, a
definite first conception, his work becomes so involved that it seems
impossible for him to make an end.
The confusion resulting from these unscientific methods has reflected
itself in the lay mind, and house-decoration has come to be regarded
as a black art by those who have seen their rooms subjected to the
manipulations of the modern upholsterer. Now, in the hands of
decorators who understand the fundamental principles of their art, the
surest effects are produced, not at the expense of simplicity and
common sense, but by observing the requirements of both. These
requirements are identical with those regulating domestic
architecture, the chief end in both cases being the suitable
accommodation of the inmates of the house.
The fact that this end has in a measure been lost sight of is perhaps
sufficient warrant for the publication of this elementary sketch. No
study of _house-decoration as a branch of architecture_ has for at
least fifty years been published in England or America; and though
France is always producing admirable monographs on isolated branches
of this subject, there is no modern French work corresponding with
such comprehensive manuals as d'Aviler's _Cours d'Architecture_ or
Isaac Ware's _Complete Body of Architecture_.
The attempt to remedy this deficiency in some slight degree has made
it necessary to dwell at length upon the strictly architectural
principles which controlled the work of the old decorators. The
effects that they aimed at having been based mainly on the due
adjustment of parts, it has been impossible to explain their methods
without assuming their standpoint--that of _architectural
proportion_--in contradistinction to the modern view of
house-decoration as _superficial application of ornament_. When
house-decoration was a part of architecture all its values were
founded on structural modifications; consequently it may seem that
ideas to be derived from a study of such methods suggest changes too
radical for those who are not building, but are merely decorating.
Such changes, in fact, lie rather in the direction of alteration than
of adornment; but it must be remembered that the results attained will
be of greater decorative value than were an equal expenditure devoted
to surface-ornament. Moreover, the great decorators, if scrupulous in
the observance of architectural principles, were ever governed, in the
use of ornamental detail, by the [Greek: sôphrosynê], the "wise
moderation," of the Greeks; and the rooms of the past were both
simpler in treatment and freer from mere embellishments than those of
to-day.
Besides, if it be granted for the sake of argument that a reform in
house-decoration, if not necessary, is at least desirable, it must be
admitted that such reform can originate only with those whose means
permit of any experiments which their taste may suggest. When the rich
man demands good architecture his neighbors will get it too. The
vulgarity of current decoration has its source in the indifference of
the wealthy to architectural fitness. Every good moulding, every
carefully studied detail, exacted by those who can afford to indulge
their taste, will in time find its way to the carpenter-built cottage.
Once the right precedent is established, it costs less to follow than
to oppose it.
In conclusion, it may be well to explain the seeming lack of accord
between the arguments used in this book and the illustrations chosen
to interpret them. While much is said of simplicity, the illustrations
used are chiefly taken from houses of some importance. This has been
done in order that only such apartments as are accessible to the
traveller might be given as examples. Unprofessional readers will
probably be more interested in studying rooms that they have seen, or
at least heard of, than those in the ordinary private dwelling; and
the arguments advanced are indirectly sustained by the most ornate
rooms here shown, since their effect is based on such harmony of line
that their superficial ornament might be removed without loss to the
composition.
Moreover, as some of the illustrations prove, the most magnificent
palaces of Europe contain rooms as simple as those in any private
house; and to point out that simplicity is at home even in palaces is
perhaps not the least service that may be rendered to the modern
decorator.
[Illustration: _PLATE I._
ITALIAN GOTHIC CHEST.
MUSEUM OF THE BARGELLO, FLORENCE.]
I
THE HISTORICAL TRADITION
The last ten years have been marked by a notable development in
architecture and decoration, and while France will long retain her
present superiority in these arts, our own advance is perhaps more
significant than that of any other country. When we measure the work
recently done in the United States by the accepted architectural
standards of ten years ago, the change is certainly striking,
especially in view of the fact that our local architects and
decorators are without the countless advantages in the way of schools,
museums and libraries which are at the command of their European
colleagues. In Paris, for instance, it is impossible to take even a
short walk without finding inspiration in those admirable buildings,
public and private, religious and secular, that bear the stamp of the
most refined taste the world has known since the decline of the arts
in Italy; and probably all American architects will acknowledge that
no amount of travel abroad and study at home can compensate for the
lack of daily familiarity with such monuments.
It is therefore all the more encouraging to note the steady advance in
taste and knowledge to which the most recent architecture in America
bears witness. This advance is chiefly due to the fact that American
architects are beginning to perceive two things that their French
colleagues, among all the modern vagaries of taste, have never quite
lost sight of: first that architecture and decoration, having wandered
since 1800 in a labyrinth of dubious eclecticism, can be set right
only by a close study of the best models; and secondly that, given the
requirements of modern life, these models are chiefly to be found in
buildings erected in Italy after the beginning of the sixteenth
century, and in other European countries after the full assimilation
of the Italian influence.
As the latter of these propositions may perhaps be questioned by those
who, in admiring the earlier styles, sometimes lose sight of their
relative unfitness for modern use, it must be understood at the outset
that it implies no disregard for the inherent beauties of these
styles. It would be difficult, assuredly, to find buildings better
suited to their original purpose than some of the great feudal
castles, such as Warwick in England, or Langeais in France; and as
much might be said of the grim machicolated palaces of republican
Florence or Siena; but our whole mode of life has so entirely changed
since the days in which these buildings were erected that they no
longer answer to our needs. It is only necessary to picture the lives
led in those days to see how far removed from them our present social
conditions are. Inside and outside the house, all told of the
unsettled condition of country or town, the danger of armed attack,
the clumsy means of defence, the insecurity of property, the few
opportunities of social intercourse as we understand it. A man's house
was in very truth his castle in the middle ages, and in France and
England especially it remained so until the end of the sixteenth
century.
Thus it was that many needs arose: the tall keep of masonry where the
inmates, pent up against attack, awaited the signal of the watchman
who, from his platform or _échauguette_, gave warning of assault; the
ponderous doors, oak-ribbed and metal-studded, with doorways often
narrowed to prevent entrance of two abreast, and so low that the
incomer had to bend his head; the windows that were mere openings or
slits, narrow and high, far out of the assailants' reach, and piercing
the walls without regard to symmetry--not, as Ruskin would have us
believe, because irregularity was thought artistic, but because the
mediæval architect, trained to the uses of necessity, knew that he
must design openings that should afford no passage to the besiegers'
arrows, no clue to what was going on inside the keep. But to the
reader familiar with Viollet-le-Duc, or with any of the many excellent
works on English domestic architecture, further details will seem
superfluous. It is necessary, however, to point out that long after
the conditions of life in Europe had changed, houses retained many
features of the feudal period. The survival of obsolete customs which
makes the study of sociology so interesting, has its parallel in the
history of architecture. In the feudal countries especially, where the
conflict between the great nobles and the king was of such long
duration that civilization spread very slowly, architecture was
proportionately slow to give up many of its feudal characteristics. In
Italy, on the contrary, where one city after another succumbed to some
accomplished condottiere who between his campaigns read Virgil and
collected antique marbles, the rugged little republics were soon
converted into brilliant courts where, life being relatively secure,
social intercourse rapidly developed. This change of conditions
brought with it the paved street and square, the large-windowed
palaces with their great court-yards and stately open staircases, and
the market-place with its loggia adorned with statues and marble
seats.
Italy, in short, returned instinctively to the Roman ideal of civic
life: the life of the street, the forum and the baths. These very
conditions, though approaching so much nearer than feudalism to our
modern civilization, in some respects make the Italian architecture of
the Renaissance less serviceable as a model than the French and
English styles later developed from it. The very dangers and
barbarities of feudalism had fostered and preserved the idea of home
as of something private, shut off from intrusion; and while the Roman
ideal flowered in the great palace with its galleries, loggias and
saloons, itself a kind of roofed-in forum, the French or English
feudal keep became, by the same process of growth, the modern private
house. The domestic architecture of the Renaissance in Italy offers
but two distinctively characteristic styles of building: the palace
and the villa or hunting-lodge.[1] There is nothing corresponding in
interior arrangements with the French or English town house, or the
_manoir_ where the provincial nobles lived all the year round. The
villa was a mere perch used for a few weeks of gaiety in spring or
autumn; it was never a home as the French or English country-house
was. There were, of course, private houses in Renaissance Italy, but
these were occupied rather by shopkeepers, craftsmen, and the
_bourgeoisie_ than by the class which in France and England lived in
country houses or small private hôtels. The elevations of these small
Italian houses are often admirable examples of domestic architecture,
but their planning is rudimentary, and it may be said that the
characteristic tendencies of modern house-planning were developed
rather in the mezzanin or low-studded intermediate story of the
Italian Renaissance palace than in the small house of the same period.
It is a fact recognized by political economists that changes in
manners and customs, no matter under what form of government, usually
originate with the wealthy or aristocratic minority, and are thence
transmitted to the other classes. Thus the _bourgeois_ of one
generation lives more like the aristocrat of a previous generation
than like his own predecessors. This rule naturally holds good of
house-planning, and it is for this reason that the origin of modern
house-planning should be sought rather in the prince's mezzanin than
in the small middle-class dwelling. The Italian mezzanin probably
originated in the habit of building certain very high-studded saloons
and of lowering the ceiling of the adjoining rooms. This created an
intermediate story, or rather scattered intermediate rooms, which
Bramante was among the first to use in the planning of his palaces;
but Bramante did not reveal the existence of the mezzanin in his
façades, and it was not until the time of Peruzzi and his
contemporaries that it became, both in plan and elevation, an accepted
part of the Italian palace. It is for this reason that the year 1500
is a convenient point from which to date the beginning of modern
house-planning; but it must be borne in mind that this date is purely
arbitrary, and represents merely an imaginary line drawn between
mediæval and modern ways of living and house-planning, as exemplified
respectively, for instance, in the ducal palace of Urbino, built by
Luciano da Laurano about 1468, and the palace of the Massimi alle
Colonne in Rome, built by Baldassare Peruzzi during the first half of
the sixteenth century.
The lives of the great Italian nobles were essentially open-air lives:
all was organized with a view to public pageants, ceremonies and
entertainments. Domestic life was subordinated to this spectacular
existence, and instead of building private houses in our sense, they
built palaces, of which they set aside a portion for the use of the
family. Every Italian palace has its mezzanin or private apartment;
but this part of the building is now seldom seen by travellers in
Italy. Not only is it usually inhabited by the owners of the palace
but, its decorations being simpler than those of the _piano nobile_,
or principal story, it is not thought worthy of inspection. As a
matter of fact, the treatment of the mezzanin was generally most
beautiful, because most suitable; and while the Italian Renaissance
palace can seldom serve as a model for a modern private house, the
decoration of the mezzanin rooms is full of appropriate suggestion.
In France and England, on the other hand, private life was gradually,
though slowly, developing along the lines it still follows in the
present day. It is necessary to bear in mind that what we call modern
civilization was a later growth in these two countries than in Italy.
If this fact is insisted upon, it is only because it explains the
relative unsuitability of French Renaissance or Tudor and Elizabethan
architecture to modern life. In France, for instance, it was not until
the Fronde was subdued and Louis XIV firmly established on the throne,
that the elements which compose what we call modern life really began
to combine. In fact, it might be said that the feudalism of which the
Fronde was the lingering expression had its counterpart in the
architecture of the period. While long familiarity with Italy was
beginning to tell upon the practical side of house-planning, many
obsolete details were still preserved. Even the most enthusiastic
admirer of the French Renaissance would hardly maintain that the
houses of that period are what we should call in the modern sense
"convenient." It would be impossible for a modern family to occupy
with any degree of comfort the Hôtel Voguë at Dijon, one of the best
examples (as originally planned) of sixteenth-century domestic
architecture in France.[2] The same objection applies to the furniture
of the period. This arose from the fact that, owing to the unsettled
state of the country, the landed proprietor always carried his
furniture with him when he travelled from one estate to another.
Furniture, in the vocabulary of the middle ages, meant something which
may be transported: "Meubles sont apelez qu'on peut transporter";--hence
the lack of variety in furniture before the seventeenth century, and
also its unsuitableness to modern life. Chairs and cabinets that had
to be carried about on mule-back were necessarily somewhat stiff and
angular in design. It is perhaps not too much to say that a
comfortable chair, in our self-indulgent modern sense, did not exist
before the Louis XIV arm-chair (see Plate IV); and the cushioned
_bergère_, the ancestor of our upholstered easy-chair, cannot be
traced back further than the Regency. Prior to the time of Louis XIV,
the most luxurious people had to content themselves with hard
straight-backed seats. The necessities of transportation permitted
little variety of design, and every piece of furniture was constructed
with the double purpose of being easily carried about and of being
used as a trunk (see Plate I). As Havard says, "Tout meuble se
traduisait par un coffre." The unvarying design of the cabinets is
explained by the fact that they were made to form two trunks,[3] and
even the chairs and settles had hollow seats which could be packed
with the owners' wardrobe (see Plate II). The king himself, when he
went from one château to another, carried all his furniture with him,
and it is thus not surprising that lesser people contented themselves
with a few substantial chairs and cabinets, and enough arras or cloth
of Douai to cover the draughty walls of their country-houses. One of
Madame de Sévigné's letters gives an amusing instance of the
scarceness of furniture even in the time of Louis XIV. In describing a
fire in a house near her own hôtel in Paris, she says that one or two
of the persons from the burning house were brought to her for shelter,
because it was known in the neighborhood (at that time a rich and
fashionable one) that she had _an extra bed_ in the house!
[Illustration: _PLATE II._
FRENCH CHAIRS, XV AND XVI CENTURIES.
FROM THE GAVET COLLECTION.]
It was not until the social influences of the reign of Louis XIV were
fully established that modern domestic life really began. Tradition
ascribes to Madame de Rambouillet a leading share in the advance in
practical house-planning; but probably what she did is merely typical
of the modifications which the new social conditions were everywhere
producing. It is certain that at this time houses and rooms first
began to be comfortable. The immense cavernous fireplaces originally
meant for the roasting of beeves and the warming of a flock of frozen
retainers,--"les grandes antiquailles de cheminées," as Madame de
Sévigné called them,--were replaced by the compact chimney-piece of
modern times. Cushioned _bergères_ took the place of the throne-like
seats of Louis XIII, screens kept off unwelcome draughts, Savonnerie
or moquette carpets covered the stone or marble floors, and grandeur
gave way to luxury.[4]
English architecture having followed a line of development so similar
that it need not here be traced, it remains only to examine in detail
the opening proposition, namely, that modern architecture and
decoration, having in many ways deviated from the paths which the
experience of the past had marked out for them, can be reclaimed only
by a study of the best models.
It might of course be said that to attain this end originality is more
necessary than imitativeness. To this it may be replied that no lost
art can be re-acquired without at least for a time going back to the
methods and manner of those who formerly practised it; or the
objection may be met by the question, What is originality in art?
Perhaps it is easier to define what it is _not_; and this may be done
by saying that it is never a wilful rejection of what have been
accepted as the necessary laws of the various forms of art. Thus, in
reasoning, originality lies not in discarding the necessary laws of
thought, but in using them to express new intellectual conceptions; in
poetry, originality consists not in discarding the necessary laws of
rhythm, but in finding new rhythms within the limits of those laws.
Most of the features of architecture that have persisted through
various fluctuations of taste owe their preservation to the fact that
they have been proved by experience to be necessary; and it will be
found that none of them precludes the exercise of individual taste,
any more than the acceptance of the syllogism or of the laws of rhythm
prevents new thinkers and new poets from saying what has never been
said before. Once this is clearly understood, it will be seen that the
supposed conflict between originality and tradition is no conflict at
all.[5]
In citing logic and poetry, those arts have been purposely chosen of
which the laws will perhaps best help to explain and illustrate the
character of architectural limitations. A building, for whatever
purpose erected, must be built in strict accordance with the
requirements of that purpose; in other words, it must have a reason
for being as it is and must be as it is for that reason. Its
decoration must harmonize with the structural limitations (which is by
no means the same thing as saying that all decoration must be
structural), and from this harmony of the general scheme of decoration
with the building, and of the details of the decoration with each
other, springs the rhythm that distinguishes architecture from mere
construction. Thus all good architecture and good decoration (which,
it must never be forgotten, _is only interior architecture_) must be
based on rhythm and logic. A house, or room, must be planned as it is
because it could not, in reason, be otherwise; must be decorated as it
is because no other decoration would harmonize as well with the plan.
[Illustration: _PLATE III._
FRENCH ARMOIRE, XVI CENTURY.]
Many of the most popular features in modern house-planning and
decoration will not be found to stand this double test. Often (as will
be shown further on) they are merely survivals of earlier social
conditions, and have been preserved in obedience to that instinct that
makes people cling to so many customs the meaning of which is lost.
In other cases they have been revived by the archæologizing spirit
which is so characteristic of the present time, and which so often
leads its possessors to think that a thing must be beautiful because
it is old and appropriate because it is beautiful.
But since the beauty of all such features depends on their
appropriateness, they may in every case be replaced by a more suitable
form of treatment without loss to the general effect of house or room.
It is this which makes it important that each room (or, better still,
all the rooms) in a house should receive the same style of decoration.
To some people this may seem as meaningless a piece of archaism as the
habit of using obsolete fragments of planning or decoration; but such
is not the case. It must not be forgotten, in discussing the question
of reproducing certain styles, that the essence of a style lies not in
its use of ornament, but in its handling of proportion. Structure
conditions ornament, not ornament structure. That is, a room with
unsuitably proportioned openings, wall-spaces and cornice might
receive a surface application of Louis XV or Louis XVI ornament and
not represent either of those styles of decoration; whereas a room
constructed according to the laws of proportion accepted in one or the
other of those periods, in spite of a surface application of
decorative detail widely different in character,--say Romanesque or
Gothic,--would yet maintain its distinctive style, because the detail,
in conforming with the laws of proportion governing the structure of
the room, must necessarily conform with its style. In other words,
decoration is always subservient to proportion; and a room, whatever
its decoration may be, must represent the style to which its
proportions belong. The less cannot include the greater. Unfortunately
it is usually by ornamental details, rather than by proportion, that
people distinguish one style from another. To many persons, garlands,
bow-knots, quivers, and a great deal of gilding represent the Louis
XVI style; if they object to these, they condemn the style. To an
architect familiar with the subject the same style means something
absolutely different. He knows that a Louis XVI room may exist without
any of these or similar characteristics; and he often deprecates their
use as representing the cheaper and more trivial effects of the
period, and those that have most helped to vulgarize it. In fact, in
nine cases out of ten his use of them is a concession to the client
who, having asked for a Louis XVI room, would not know he had got it
were these details left out.[6]
Another thing which has perhaps contributed to make people distrustful
of "styles" is the garbled form in which they are presented by some
architects. After a period of eclecticism that has lasted long enough
to make architects and decorators lose their traditional habits of
design, there has arisen a sudden demand for "style." It necessarily
follows that only the most competent are ready to respond to this
unexpected summons. Much has to be relearned, still more to be
unlearned. The essence of the great styles lay in proportion and the
science of proportion is not to be acquired in a day. In fact, in such
matters the cultivated layman, whether or not he has any special
familiarity with the different schools of architecture, is often a
better judge than the half-educated architect. It is no wonder that
people of taste are disconcerted by the so-called "colonial" houses
where stair-rails are used as roof-balustrades and mantel-friezes
as exterior entablatures, or by Louis XV rooms where the wavy movement
which, in the best rococo, was always an ornamental incident and never
broke up the main lines of the design, is suffered to run riot through
the whole treatment of the walls, so that the bewildered eye seeks in
vain for a straight line amid the whirl of incoherent curves.
[Illustration: _PLATE IV._
FRENCH SOFA AND ARMCHAIR, LOUIS XIV PERIOD.
FROM THE CHÂTEAU DE BERCY.]
To conform to a style, then, is to accept those rules of proportion
which the artistic experience of centuries has established as the
best, while within those limits allowing free scope to the individual
requirements which must inevitably modify every house or room adapted
to the use and convenience of its occupants.
There is one thing more to be said in defence of conformity to style;
and that is, the difficulty of getting rid of style. Strive as we may
for originality, we are hampered at every turn by an artistic
tradition of over two thousand years. Does any but the most
inexperienced architect really think that he can ever rid himself of
such an inheritance? He may mutilate or misapply the component parts
of his design, but he cannot originate a whole new architectural
alphabet. The chances are that he will not find it easy to invent one
wholly new moulding.
The styles especially suited to modern life have already been roughly
indicated as those prevailing in Italy since 1500, in France from the
time of Louis XIV, and in England since the introduction of the
Italian manner by Inigo Jones; and as the French and English styles
are perhaps more familiar to the general reader, the examples given
will usually be drawn from these. Supposing the argument in favor of
these styles to have been accepted, at least as a working hypothesis,
it must be explained why, in each room, the decoration and furniture
should harmonize. Most people will admit the necessity of harmonizing
the colors in a room, because a feeling for color is more general than
a feeling for form; but in reality the latter is the more important in
decoration, and it is the feeling for form, and not any archæological
affectation, which makes the best decorators insist upon the necessity
of keeping to the same style of furniture and decoration. Thus the
massive dimensions and heavy panelling of a seventeenth-century room
would dwarf a set of eighteenth-century furniture; and the wavy,
capricious movement of Louis XV decoration would make the austere yet
delicate lines of Adam furniture look stiff and mean.
Many persons object not only to any attempt at uniformity of style,
but to the use of any recognized style in the decoration of a room.
They characterize it, according to their individual views, as
"servile," "formal," or "pretentious."
It has already been suggested that to conform within rational limits
to a given style is no more servile than to pay one's taxes or to
write according to the rules of grammar. As to the accusations of
formality and pretentiousness (which are more often made in America
than elsewhere), they may probably be explained by the fact that most
Americans necessarily form their idea of the great European styles
from public buildings and palaces. Certainly, if an architect were to
propose to his client to decorate a room in a moderate-sized house in
the Louis XIV style, and if the client had formed his idea of that
style from the state apartments in the palace at Versailles, he would
be justified in rejecting the proposed treatment as absolutely
unsuitable to modern private life; whereas the architect who had gone
somewhat more deeply into the subject might have singled out the style
as eminently suitable, having in mind one of the simple panelled
rooms, with tall windows, a dignified fireplace, large tables and
comfortable arm-chairs, which were to be found in the private houses
of the same period (see Plate V). It is the old story of the two
knights fighting about the color of the shield. Both architect and
client would be right, but they would be looking at the different
sides of the question. As a matter of fact, the bed-rooms,
sitting-rooms, libraries and other private apartments in the smaller
dwelling-houses built in Europe between 1650 and 1800 were far
simpler, less pretentious and more practical in treatment than those
in the average modern house.
[Illustration: _PLATE V._
ROOM IN THE GRAND TRIANON, VERSAILLES.
(EXAMPLE OF SIMPLE LOUIS XIV DECORATION.)]
It is therefore hoped that the antagonists of "style," when they are
shown that to follow a certain style is not to sacrifice either
convenience or imagination, but to give more latitude to both, will
withdraw an opposition which seems to be based on a misapprehension of
facts.
Hitherto architecture and decoration have been spoken of as one, as in
any well-designed house they ought to be. Indeed, it is one of the
numerous disadvantages of the present use of styles, that unless the
architect who has built the house also decorates it, the most hopeless
discord is apt to result. This was otherwise before our present desire
for variety had thrown architects, decorators, and workmen out of the
regular routine of their business. Before 1800 the decorator called
upon to treat the interior of a house invariably found a suitable
background prepared for his work, while much in the way of detail was
intrusted to the workmen, who were trained in certain traditions
instead of being called upon to carry out in each new house the
vagaries of a different designer.
But it is with the decorator's work alone that these pages are
concerned, and the above digression is intended to explain why his
task is now so difficult, and why his results are so often
unsatisfactory to himself as well as to his clients. The decorator of
the present day may be compared to a person who is called upon to
write a letter in the English language, but is ordered, in so doing,
to conform to the Chinese or Egyptian rules of grammar, or possibly to
both together.
By the use of a little common sense and a reasonable conformity to
those traditions of design which have been tested by generations of
architects, it is possible to produce great variety in the decoration
of rooms without losing sight of the purpose for which they are
intended. Indeed, the more closely this purpose is kept in view, and
the more clearly it is expressed in all the details of each room, the
more pleasing that room will be, so that it is easy to make a room
with tinted walls, deal furniture and dimity curtains more beautiful,
because more logical and more harmonious, than a ball-room lined with
gold and marbles, in which the laws of rhythm and logic have been
ignored.
[Illustration: _PLATE VI._
FRENCH ARMCHAIR, LOUIS XV PERIOD.]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Charming as the Italian villa is, it can hardly be used in our
Northern States without certain modifications, unless it is merely
occupied for a few weeks in mid-summer; whereas the average French or
English country house built after 1600 is perfectly suited to our
climate and habits. The chief features of the Italian villa are the
open central _cortile_ and the large saloon two stories high. An
adaptation of these better suited to a cold climate is to be found in
the English country houses built in the Palladian manner after its
introduction by Inigo Jones. See Campbell's _Vitruvius Britannicus_
for numerous examples.
[2] The plan of the Hôtel Voguë has been greatly modified.
[3] Cabinets retained this shape after the transporting of furniture
had ceased to be a necessity (see Plate III).
[4] It must be remembered that in describing the decoration of any
given period, we refer to the private houses, not the royal palaces,
of that period. Versailles was more splendid than any previous palace;
but private houses at that date were less splendid, though far more
luxurious, than during the Renaissance.
[5] "Si l'on dispose un édifice d'une manière convenable à l'usage
auquel on le destine, ne différera-t-il pas sensiblement d'un autre
édifice destiné à un autre usage? N'aura-t-il pas naturellement un
caractère, et, qui plus est, son caractère propre?" J. L. N. Durand.
_Précis des Leçons d'Architecture données à l'École Royale
Polytechnique._ Paris, 1823.
[6] It must not be forgotten that the so-called "styles" of Louis XIV,
Louis XV and Louis XVI were, in fact, only the gradual development of
one organic style, and hence differed only in the superficial use of
ornament.
II
ROOMS IN GENERAL
Before beginning to decorate a room it is essential to consider for
what purpose the room is to be used. It is not enough to ticket it
with some such general designation as "library," "drawing-room," or
"den." The individual tastes and habits of the people who are to
occupy it must be taken into account; it must be not "a library," or
"a drawing-room," but the library or the drawing-room best suited to
the master or mistress of the house which is being decorated.
Individuality in house-furnishing has seldom been more harped upon
than at the present time. That cheap originality which finds
expression in putting things to uses for which they were not intended
is often confounded with individuality; whereas the latter consists
not in an attempt to be different from other people at the cost of
comfort, but in the desire to be comfortable in one's own way, even
though it be the way of a monotonously large majority. It seems easier
to most people to arrange a room like some one else's than to analyze
and express their own needs. Men, in these matters, are less exacting
than women, because their demands, besides being simpler, are
uncomplicated by the feminine tendency to want things because other
people have them, rather than to have things because they are wanted.
But it must never be forgotten that every one is unconsciously
tyrannized over by the wants of others,--the wants of dead and gone
predecessors, who have an inconvenient way of thrusting their
different habits and tastes across the current of later existences.
The unsatisfactory relations of some people with their rooms are often
to be explained in this way. They have still in their blood the
traditional uses to which these rooms were put in times quite
different from the present. It is only an unconscious extension of the
conscious habit which old-fashioned people have of clinging to their
parents' way of living. The difficulty of reconciling these instincts
with our own comfort and convenience, and the various compromises to
which they lead in the arrangement of our rooms, will be more fully
dealt with in the following chapters. To go to the opposite extreme
and discard things because they are old-fashioned is equally
unreasonable. The golden mean lies in trying to arrange our houses
with a view to our own comfort and convenience; and it will be found
that the more closely we follow this rule the easier our rooms will be
to furnish and the pleasanter to live in.
People whose attention has never been specially called to the _raison
d'être_ of house-furnishing sometimes conclude that because a thing is
unusual it is artistic, or rather that through some occult process the
most ordinary things become artistic by being used in an unusual
manner; while others, warned by the visible results of this theory of
furnishing, infer that everything artistic is unpractical. In the
Anglo-Saxon mind beauty is not spontaneously born of material wants,
as it is with the Latin races. We have to _make_ things beautiful;
they do not grow so of themselves. The necessity of making this effort
has caused many people to put aside the whole problem of beauty and
fitness in household decoration as something mysterious and
incomprehensible to the uninitiated. The architect and decorator are
often aware that they are regarded by their clients as the possessors
of some strange craft like black magic or astrology.