THE BASEMENT.
The basement of the Library, which may be reached through the doors under the staircases in the Main Entrance Hall, is arranged in the same way as the first and second stories, except that the whole floor is connected by a series of corridors which extend entirely round the building.
The walls of the West Pavilion are sheathed in a dado of white Italian marble about ten feet high, above which is a vaulted ceiling ornamented with a bright, open arabesque in green, blue, and yellow on a cream-colored ground. The corridors have dados of American marbles, usually dark in color, as Lake Champlain or Tennessee. For the walls and vaults, plain colors harmonizing with the marble and set off with simple arabesques and borders, have been used. The effect is well worth the attention of the visitor—the rich tones of the marble and the brighter coloring of the walls and vaults framing a long vista seen through a succession of low, narrow arches.
THE
ARCHITECTURE
SCULPTURE AND PAINTING
BY CHARLES CAFFIN
THE ARCHITECTURE SCULPTURE AND PAINTING
BY CHARLES CAFFIN
It is interesting to note that the ground plan of the new Library of Congress was suggested by that of the British Museum. There, however, the central reading room was placed inside the quadrangle as an afterthought. Building on this, as well as on the architectural experience of other libraries, our own Library has had the advantage of organic growth. Every part is related to the whole, and practical and æsthetic requirements are logically and naturally fulfilled.
These requirements were: an imposing edifice, with plenty of well-lighted rooms; facilities for the storing of books; and ample space for the reading and general public. With one exception the exterior of the building indicates the character and relative importance of the interior divisions. That exception is the book-stacks, radiating from the sides of the Rotunda or central reading room. But their position is in completely natural relation to the rest, and by being hidden from the outside, they could be made just what they pretend to be, viz. huge book-shelves of iron, bricks, and marble, well lighted and ventilated. Their construction is æsthetically perfect, and yet without injury to the façades.
The latter, albeit severe and lacking the indefinable artistic spirit of the Capitol, are grand and imposing. The ground floor, resting on a continuous plinth, is constructed of huge blocks, quarry or rock-faced, with bold joints and square lights. The masonry of the first story is fine pointed with vermicular or coral-like quoins at the angles of the pavilions. In the second story, the bel étage, the face of the granite is smooth; the windows are framed with pilasters and surmounted with pediments; the pavilions are emphasized by porticoes resting on Corinthian columns. The horizontal mouldings are boldly accentuated and carefully graduated, terminating in a modillioned cornice surmounted by a balustrade. The shadow effects are strong and tender, and the set-back of each floor well marked.
While the exterior of the building represents a single thought and one engrossing individuality, the interior reveals a complexity of thought and a variety of distinct personal influences, due to the parts played by the sculptors and painters. Yet there is no lack of homogeneousness. The architect has balanced the individual notes by the breadth and force with which he has treated the purely decorative parts of his scheme. His effects are massed. Sumptuous expanses of mosaic, or painted surfaces, or stuccoed vaults, compel our attention and divide our interest with the special objects of beauty. The spectator’s mind is not bewildered by a jumble of elaboration, but passes quietly from one impression to another. On entering the Entrance Hall, for instance, marble is beneath our feet and on all sides of us. The impression is instantaneous, irresistible, and entirely undistracted. In the adjoining halls, the prevailing theme is varied by the colors of the marble mosaic vaults, which assert their own beauty at the same time that they modestly bring the painted compositions of the tympanums into color-relation with the grey-white marble walls.
Upstairs, in the corridors beyond the arcades, the marble impression is prolonged in the mosaic floors, delicate in their play of color, and splendid in their very spaciousness. But the main impression is still that of painted ornament. In the adjacent galleries marble is continued in the floors, but the chief architectural interest here is in the stucco work. It is true we are attracted by the painted lunette at the end, but simultaneously we feel how superbly framed it is by the vista of vaulted ceiling. The importance of the four pavilions is emphasized by painted compositions, but here again an equipoise of interest is maintained by the mosaic floors, and the beautiful lines of the stucco, which weave the octagon of walls into the circle of the vault. Beneath the great central dome of the Rotunda all these forces are massed with excellent judgment. The dome itself rests upon massive columns of Numidian marble connected by two tiers of arcades of Sienna marble; mounts up in successive gradations of stucco, from bold accentuation to tender elaboration, till it melts into the calm of Mr. Blashfield’s painting and ends in the dreamy spirituality of his figure in the cupola.
In the little corridors to the north and south of the Entrance Hall the architect has epitomized his methods. They are miniature éditions de luxe, in which arch and vault, marble, stucco, mosaic, and pictures are blended with the daintiness of an Elzevir.