Of the Influence of Controlling Lines, Boundaries, Spaces, and
Plans in Designing--Origin of Geometric Decorative Spaces and
Panels in Architecture--Value of Recurring Line--Tradition--
Extension--Adaptability--Geometric Structural Plans--Frieze and
Field--Ceiling Decoration--Co-operative Relation.
The function of line considered from the point of view of its
controlling influence as a boundary, or inclosure, of design, upon which
I touched in the last chapter, is a very important one, and deserves
most attentive study.
The usual problem a designer in the flat has to solve is to fill
harmoniously a given space or panel defined by a line--some simple
geometric form--such as a square or a circle, a parallelogram, a
diamond, a lunette.
[Influence of Controlling Lines, etc.]
Now it is possible to regard such spaces or panels as more or less
unrelated, and simply as the boundaries of an individual composition or
picture of some kind. Yet even so considered a certain sense of
geometric control would come in in the selection of our lines and
masses, both in regard to each other and in regard to the shape of the
inclosing boundary. We seem to feel the need of some answering line or
re-echo in the character of the composition to the shape of its
boundary, to give it its distinctive reason for existence in that
particular form--just as we should expect a shell-fish to conform to the
shape of its shell. Such a re-echo or acknowledgment might be ever so
slight, or might be quite emphatic and dominate as the leading motive,
but for perfectly harmonious effect it must be there.
[Illustration (f064): Relation of Design to Boundary: Simple Linear
Motives and Pattern Bases.]
A strictly simple and logical linear filling of such spaces might be
expressed in the most primitive way, as in the illustration on p.
109[f064].
By these means certain primitive types of ornament are evolved, such as
the Greek volute and the Greek key or fret, the logical ornament of a
logical people.
Such arrangements of line form simple linear patterns, and a decorative
effect of surface is produced simply by their repetition, especially if
the principle of alternation be observed. This principle may be
expressed by taking, say, a series of squares or circles, and placing
them either in a line as for a border arrangement, or for extension
vertically and laterally over a surface, and filling only the alternate
square or circle, leaving the alternate ones, or dropping them out
altogether (see illustration, p. 111[f065]).
[Illustration (f065): Use of Intervals in Repeating the Same Ornamental
Units.]
When we desire to go beyond such primitive linear ornaments, however,
and introduce natural form, we should still be guided by the same
principles, if we desire to produce a strictly decorative effect, while
varying them in application to any extent.
It matters not what forms we deal with, floral, animal, human; directly
we come to combine them in a design, to control them by a boundary, to
inclose them in a space, we shall feel this necessity of controlling
line, which, however concealed, is yet essential to bring them into that
harmonious relation which is the essence of all design (see
illustration, p. 112[f066]).
[Illustration (f066): Designs of Floral, Human, and Animal Forms,
Governed by Shape of Inclosing Boundary.]
We may take it as a general rule that the more purely ornamental the
purpose of our design, and the more abstract in form it is, the more
emphatically we may carry out the principle of correspondence of line
between that of the inclosing boundary and that of the design itself;
and, _vice versa_, as the design becomes more pictorial in its appeal
and more complex and varied in its elements, the more we may combine the
leading motive or principle of line with secondary ones, or with
variations, since every fresh element, every new direction of line,
every new form introduced, demands some kind of re-echo to bring it into
relation with the other elements of the design, or parts of the
composition, whatever may be its nature and purpose.
Now, if we seek further the meaning and origin of this necessity of the
control of geometric lines and spaces in design, I think we shall find
it in the constructive necessities of architecture: for it is certainly
from architecture that we derive those typical spaces and panels the
designer is so often called upon to fill.
[Illustration (f067): The Parthenon: Sketch to Show Spaces Used for
Decorative Sculpture in Greek Architecture.]
[Origin of Geometric Decorative Spaces]
Lintel architecture--the Egyptian and the Greek--gave us the frieze,
both continuous, as in that of the Cella of the Parthenon, or divided by
triglyphs, which represented the ends of the beams of the primitive
timber construction; and the interstices left between these determined
the shape of the sculptured panel or slab inserted, and influenced the
character of its masses and the lines of its design, which was under the
necessity of harmonizing with the whole building (see illustration, p.
114[f067]).
[Illustration (f068): Tower of the Winds Athens BC 50]
The same may be said of the pediments. The angle of the low-pitched roof
left another interstice for the sculptor at each end of the building;
and I have elsewhere* pointed out the influence of the inclosing space
and the angles of the pediment of the Parthenon upon the arrangement of
the groups within it, and even upon the lines taken by some of the
figures, especially the reclining figures near the acute angles.
[*] See "Bases of Design."
Certain lines become inseparably associated with constructive
expression, and are used to emphasize it, as the vertical flutings of
the Doric column, by repeating the lines of the column itself, emphasize
its constructive expression of supporting the weight of the horizontal
lintels, the lines of which, repeated in the mouldings of the frieze and
cornice, are associated with level restfulness and secure repose.
As examples of design which, while meeting the structural necessities
and acknowledging the control of space and general conditions, as the
form of the slabs upon which they are sculptured, yet expresses
independent movement, the figures of the octagonal tower of the winds at
Athens are interesting (see illustration, p. 115[f068]).
Quite a different feeling, corresponding to differences in conception
and spirit in design, comes in with the Roman round _arch_ its allied
forms of _spandril_ and _vault_, _lunette_ and _medallion_, presenting
new spaces for the surface designer, and new suggestions of ornamental
line (see illustration, p. 117[f069]). It is noticeable how, with the
round-arched architecture under Roman, Byzantine (see illustration, p.
118[f070]), and Renaissance forms, the scroll form of ornament
developed, the reason being, I think, that it gave the necessary element
of recurring line, whether used in the horizontal frieze in
association with round arches, or in spandrils of vaults and arcades,
and on marble mosaic pavements.
[Illustration (f069): Sketch of Part of the Arch of Constantine to Show
Spaces for Decorative Sculpture in Roman Architecture.]
[Illustration (f070): Byzantine (Mosaic) Treatment of Architectural
Structural Features: Apse, S. Vitale Ravenna.]
[Value of the Recurring Line]
The development of Gothic architecture, with its new constructive
features and the greater variety of geometric spaces, forms, and
interstices which, as a consequence, were available for the designer of
associated ornament, whether carved work, mosaic, stained glass, or
painting, naturally led to a corresponding variety in invention and
decorative adaptation; and we may trace the same principle at work in
other forms--I mean the principle of corresponding, counterbalancing,
and recurring line--Gothic ornament being indeed generally an essential
part of the structure, and architectural features being constantly
repeated and utilized for their ornamental value, as in the case of
canopies and tabernacle work.
We see, for instance, in the Decorated period the acute gable moulding
over the arched recess, niche, doorway, or tomb, lightened and vivified
by a floriated finial springing into vigorous curves from a vertical
stem, forming an emphatic ogee outline which re-echoes the ogee line of
the arch below, and is taken up in variations by the crockets carved
upon the sides of the gable; and their spiral ascending lines lead the
eye up to the finial which completes the composition. We may trace the
same principle in the carved fillings of the subsidiary parts, such as
the trefoiled panels, the secondary mouldings, and the cusps of the
arches, which continue the line-motive or decorative harmony to the last
point (see illustration, p. 120[f071]). The elegance and lightness of
the pinnacles is increased in the same way, and further emphasized by
the long vertical lines of the sunk panels upon their sides.
[Illustration (f071): From Canopy of Tomb of Gervaise-Alard 1303. Temp
ED^wd^ I^st^ Winchelsea]
In church doorways we may see certain voussoirs of the arch allowed to
project from the hollow of the concave moulding, and their surfaces
carved into bosses of ornament; while, again, the doorway is emphasized
by the recurring lines of the mouldings, with their contrasting planes
of light and shadow, and the point of their spring is marked by a
carved lion, controlled in the design of its contour by the squareness
of the block of stone upon which it is carved (see illustration, p.
121[f072]).
[Illustration (f072): Structural Control of Line in Architectural
Enrichments West Door Walberswick Ch. Suffolk]
The carvings of miserere seats in our cathedral choirs often afford
instances of ingenious design and arrangement of elements difficult to
combine, yet always showing the instinct of following the control of the
dominating form and peculiar lines of the seat itself. There is an
instance of one from St. David's Cathedral--apparently a humorous
satire--a goose-headed woman offering a cake to a man-headed gull (?),
or perhaps they are both geese! I won't pretend to say, but it evidently
is intended to suggest cupboard love, and there is a portentously large
pitcher of ale in reserve on the bench. But note the clever arrangement
of the masses and lines, and how the lines of the seat and the curves
of the terminating scroll are re-echoed in the lines of the figures and
accessories.
[Illustration (f073): C. 1460-1480 Wood Carving Miserere Seat Choir
Stalls St. David's Cathedral. Controlling Line in Design of Subsidiary
Architectural Decoration.]
A stone-carving from the end of a tomb in the same cathedral--that of
Bishop John Morgan, 1504--of a griffin with a shield shows an emphatic
repetition of the inclosing line of the arched recess in the curves of
the wings which follow it.
[Illustration (f074): Recessed Panel Carved Stone From the Tomb of
Bishop John Morgan D. 1504, St. David's Cathedral.]
There is also a charming corbel of a half-figure of an angel, which,
though somewhat defaced, shows the architectural sense very strongly in
its design--the vertical droop of the wing-feathers inclosing the figure
repeating and continuing the vertical lines of the shafts and the
subsidiary mouldings of the arrangement of the drapery, and its
termination in crisp foliated forms, which pleasantly counterbalance the
set of the scale feathers of the wings and break the semicircular
mouldings of the base of the corbel, repeating those of the shafts
above.
[Illustration (f075): Constructive Line Reechoed in Architectural
Ornament. Corbel, Bishop Vaughan's Chapel, St. David's 1509-]
[Adaptability in Design]
[Illustration (f076): Gothic Tile Pattern S. David's Cath^l.]
Adaptation to spaces upon a flat surface is also illustrated in some
tile patterns from the same place. They are simple and rude but very
effective bits of spacing, and show a thorough grasp of the principles
we have been considering--if, indeed, it is so far conscious work at
all. But whether or not the outcome of a tradition which seemed to be
almost instinctive with mediaeval workmen--a tradition which yet left the
individual free, and under which design was a thing of life and growth,
ever adapting itself to new conditions, and grafting freely new
inventions to flower in fresh phantasy upon the ancient stock--the
movement in art in the Middle Ages, exhibiting as it does a gradual
growth and a constant vitality, always accompanying and adapting itself
to structural changes, to life and habit, was really more analogous to
the development of mechanical science in our own day, where each new
machine is allied to its predecessors, though it supplants them. The one
law being adaptability, the one aim to apply means to ends, and more and
more perfectly, inessentials and superfluities are shed, and invention
triumphs. It is, too, a collective advance, since each engineer, each
inventor, builds upon the experience of both his forerunners and his
fellow-workers, and everything is brought to an immediately practical
test.
We are not yet in the same healthy condition as regards art, and art can
never be on the same plane as science, though art may learn much from
science, chiefly perhaps in the direction of the inventive adaptation of
analogous principles. But in art the question is complicated by human
feeling and association, and her strongest appeal is to these, and by
these, and as yet we do not seem to have any terms or equivalents
precise enough to describe, or any analysis fine enough to discover
them.
[Extension]
The next consideration in spacing we may term _extension_. This bears
upon all surface design, but more especially upon the design of patterns
intended to repeat over a large surface, and not specially designed for
particular spaces. It is a great question whether any design can be
entirely satisfactory unless it has been thought out in relation to some
particular extent of surface or as adapted to some particular wall or
room. Modern industrial conditions preclude this possibility as a rule,
and so the only sure ground, beyond individual taste and preference, is
technical adaptability to process or material. We should naturally want
to give a different character to a textile pattern, whether printed or
woven, and intended to hang in folds, from one for flat extension as a
wall-paper; and a different character again to such designs intended for
extension horizontally from those intended for vertical space alone.
Floor patterns, parquets and carpets, for instance, naturally demand
different treatment from wall patterns, as those orders of plants in
nature which cling and spread on the flat ground differ from those which
grow high and maintain themselves in the air, or climb upon trees. The
rule of life--_adaptability_--obtains in art as in nature, and, beneath
individual preference and passing fashion, works the silent but real law
of relation to conditions. This again bears upon the choice of scale,
and differentiates the design of dress textiles from furniture textiles,
and the design of varied surfaces and objects, which, while demanding
their own particular treatment, are brought into general relation by
their association with use and the wants of humanity.
[Illustration (f077a): Extension: Surface Pattern Motives Derived from
Lines of Structure.]
[Geometric Structural Plans, etc.]
The law governing extension of design over surface is again geometric,
and our primal circle and square are again the factors and progenitors
of the leading systems which have governed the design of diapers and
wall patterns and hangings of all kinds. Nay, the first weaver of the
wattled fence discovered the principle of extension in design, and
showed its inseparable association with construction; and the builder
with brick or stone emphasizes it, producing the elements of linear
surface pattern, from the mechanical necessity of the position of the
joints of his structure. At a German railway station waiting-room I
noticed an effective adaptation of this principle as a wall decoration
in two blues upon a stone colour (see illustration, p. 128[fig077a]). We
may build upon such emphatic structural lines, either incorporating them
with the design motive, as in all rectangular wall diapers, or we may
suppress or conceal the actual constructive lines by placing the
principal parts or connections of our pattern over them, but one cannot
construct a satisfactory pattern to repeat and extend without them; for
these constructive lines or plans give the necessary organic life and
vigour to such designs, and are as needful to them as the trellis to the
tendrils of the vine (see illustration, p. 129[f077b]).
[Illustration (f077b): Surface Extension: Repeating Patterns Built Upon
(1) Square and (2) Circular Basis.]
The same principle is true of designs upon the curvilinear plan. The
mere repetition of the circle by itself gives us a simple geometric
pattern, and we are at liberty to emphasize this circular plan as the
main motive; or, as in the case of the rectangular plans, to treat it
merely as a basis, and develop free scroll motives upon it; or follow
it through its principal variations, as in the ogee, formed by dropping
out two intermediate semicircles; or the various forms of the scale
arrangement. These simple geometric plans are the most generally useful
as plans of designs intended for repetition and extension over space,
and they are always safe and sound systems to build upon, since a
geometric plan is certain to join comfortably if our measurements are
right.
[Illustration (f078): Surface Extension: Plan of a Drop Repeat.]
We may, however, often feel that we want something bolder and freer, and
start with a motive of sweeping-curves, non-geometric, but even then a
certain geometric relation will be necessary, or an equivalent for it,
since each curve must be counterbalanced in some way, though not
necessarily symmetrically, of course; and even where a square of
pattern--say to a wall-paper repeat of twenty-one inches--has been
designed, not consciously upon a geometric base, but simply as a
composition of lines and masses to repeat, the mechanical conditions of
the work when it comes to be printed will supply a certain geometric
control, since it necessarily begins in the process of repetition a
series of squares of pattern in which the curves are bound to recur in
corresponding places. Without a geometric plan of some sort, however, we
may easily get into difficulties with awkward leading lines, gaps, or
masses, that tumble down, and are only perceived when the paper is
printed and hung.
The designer should not feel at all restricted or cramped by his
geometric plan, but treat it as an aid and a scaffolding, working in as
much variety and richness of detail as he likes, bound only by the
necessity of repeating or counterbalancing his forms and lines. In the
diagram (p. 131[f078]) the plan of making a repeat less obvious by means
of what is termed "a drop" is given, and this system also increases the
apparent width of a pattern.
[Frieze and Field]
The feeling which demands some kind of contrast or relief to a field of
repeating pattern, however interesting in itself, seems now almost
instinctive. It is felt, too, in the case of plain surfaces, where the
eye seeks a moulding to give a little variety or pattern-equivalent in
play of light and shadow upon different planes, lines, or concavities
and convexities. The common plaster cornice placed to unite walls and
ceiling, in our ordinary houses, is a concession (on the part even of
the jerriest of builders) to the aesthetic sense. We get the decorated
frieze in architecture in obedience to the same demand, though
originally a necessary feature of lintel construction, as we have seen,
from the days of the festal garland hung around the eaves of the classic
house, to its perpetuation in stone in so many varieties.* The carved
garland depending in a series of graceful curves, or contrasted with
pendants, or their rhythm punctuated, as it were, by ox-heads, as on the
temple of the Sibyls, Tivoli, formed the needed contrast to the plane
masonry of the wall below. Sculptured figures, with the added interest
of story, as on the choragic monument of Lysicrates, fulfilled the same
decorative function in a more complex and elaborate way.
[*] "Bases of Design."
To satisfy the same feeling we place a frieze above the patterned field
of our modern wall-papers. Such a frieze may be considered as a
contrasting border to the pattern of the field, much as the border of a
carpet, allowing for difference of material and position; or the frieze
may assert itself as the dominant decoration of the room. In this case
it would be greater in depth than the simpler bordering type. The
interest of the field filling would then be subsidiary, and lead up to
the frieze. In wall-paper friezes the difficulty in designing is to
think of a motive which will not tire the eye in the necessarily
frequent repeats of twenty-one inches. Longer ones have occasionally
been produced, the limit being sixty inches. It is often a good plan to
recur in the main lines or forms of the frieze to some variation of the
lines or forms of the field. If, for instance, the main motive in the
field was a vertical scroll design, a _horizontal_ scroll design upon a
large scale used for the frieze would answer, the field being kept flat
and quiet; or the fan, or radiating shell form, used as a frieze, above
a pattern on the scale plan, would be quite harmonious. Relation and
balance of line and mass, and arrangement of quantities in such designs,
are the chief considerations.
With painting or modelling an artist is freer, as he is at liberty to
design a continuous frieze of figures, and introduce as much variety as
he chooses.
A painted frieze of figures above plain oak-panelling has a good effect
in a large and well-proportioned room, and is perhaps one of the
pleasantest ways of treating interior walls.
[Illustration (f079): Sketch Designs to Show Relation Between Frieze
and Field in Wall-paper.]
[Ceiling Decoration]
Ceiling decoration, again, presents problems of extension in designing,
and the large flat plaster ceilings of modern rooms are by no means easy
to deal with satisfactorily. The simplest way is to resort to
wall-paper, and here, restricted in size of repeat and the usual
technical requirements of the work, the designer must further consider
appropriateness of scale, and position in regard to eye, relation to the
wall, and so forth.
The natural demand is for something simpler in treatment than the
walls--a re-echo, in some sort, of plans agreeable to the floor, yet
with a suggestion of something lighter and freer: here we may safely
come back to rectangular and circular plans again for our leading lines
and forms.
Painting and modelling, again, offer more elaborate treatment and
possibilities, and we know that beautiful works have been done in both
ways; but art of this kind seems more appropriate to lofty vaulted
chambers and churches, such as one sees in the palaces of Italy, at
Genoa and Venice, at Florence and Rome.
I remember a very striking and bold treatment of a flat-beamed ceiling
in the Castle of Nuremberg, where a huge black German eagle was painted
so as to occupy nearly the whole field of the ceiling, but treated in an
extremely flat and heraldic way, the long feathers of the wings
following the lines of the beams and falling parallel upon them and
between them; and upon the black wings and body of the eagle different
shields of arms were displayed in gold and colours, the eagle itself
being painted upon the natural unpainted wood--oak, I think. The work
belonged to the thirteenth or fourteenth century, I believe. It seemed
the very antithesis of Italian finesse and fancy, but the fitness of
such decoration entirely depends upon its relation to its surroundings,
which in this case were perfectly appropriate.
[Co-operative Relation]
That is the great point to bear in mind in all design--the sense of
relation; nothing stands alone in art. Lines and forms must harmonize
with other forms and lines: the elements of any design must meet in
friendly co-operation; it is not a blind struggle for existence, a
fierce competition, or a strife for ascendency between one motive and
another, one form and another, or a war of conflicting efforts. There
may be a struggle _outside_ the design, in the mind of the designer. He
may have tried hard against difficulties to express what he felt, and
have only reached harmony through discord and strife, but the work
itself should be serene; we should feel that, however various its
elements, they are not without their purpose and relation one to
another, that all is ordered and organized in harmonious lines, that
everything has its use and place, that, in short, it illustrates that
excellent motto, whether for art or life: "Each for all, and all for
each."