Rudimentary Architecture for the Use of Beginners / The Orders and Their Æsthetic Principles

by W. H. Leeds

CORINTHIAN ORDER.

We now arrive at the third and last of the Orders, or that which is distinguished from the other two, more by its deep and foliaged capital than by its proportions,—at least it is chiefly so distinguished from the Ionic, with which it has in other respects many points in common; for the columns of both have bases differing but little from each other, and their shafts are fluted in the same manner. How this Order came to obtain the name of Corinthian is not very clear; nor is it, architecturally, of any moment whether such name be right or wrong. All that is certain is, that examples of this Order have not been found at Corinth itself, where, judging from its name, it would seem to have been the prevalent style of building, and there brought to perfection. There is a pretty legend relative to the origin of the Corinthian capital, which, if not true, has at least probability in its favour, and is many degrees less nonsensical than the supposed origin of the Ionic one. Nay, it is even valuable and instructive, as showing how well a skilful artist can derive hints from trivial or accidental circumstances, and by improving upon them, turn them to account. As the story goes, the sculptor Callicrates was so struck by the graceful forms into which the leaves of an acanthus plant had grown up around a tall basket covered by a square slab, that he sketched it, and conceived the idea of fashioning the capital of a column after it. It must be owned that the anecdote seems itself to be an invention intended to account poetically for the origin of such form of capital, and perhaps on no better grounds than that of a fancied general resemblance,—just as some dreamers have detected the origin of the Gothic style in an avenue of lofty over-arching trees, or in the interlacing stems of a framing of wicker-work. Unluckily for the credit of so respectable a legend, the earliest examples exhibit, instead of the strongest and most direct resemblance to the presumed prototype, the faintest and most vague of all. The Corinthian capital seems rather to have developed itself gradually out of the Doric one; first, by its necking being deepened and ornamented with a row of leaves, and then afterwards the echinus suppressed, and the whole body of the capital made to expand in a concave curve up to the abacus, with a second row of plain and flatter leaves above the first one. At least the capitals to the small columns of the porches of the Tower of the Winds at Athens, and others discovered at Miletus and elsewhere, seem to favour such hypothesis; and in further evidence of such Doric derivation is the circumstance of the columns of the Tower of the Winds being without bases. It will be argued, perhaps, that such examples do not all answer to the character afterwards established and adhered to for capitals belonging to that Order. Very true: but then they may surely be received as incipient efforts and attempts towards the formation of a third class of capitals; and in the instances just referred to, the overhanging square abacus without any foliage or curling tendrils spreading out to support its extremities, points, in our opinion, clearly enough to a derivation from the Doric capital, considerably enlarged downwards, and also greatly enriched. However, we leave others either to adopt or reject this notion, just as they may be disposed. At the best, all such questions are little better than matters of idle curiosity, and must always remain questions after all.

To quit conjecture for fact, the fact is the Corinthian Order does not appear to have been ever matured into a distinct style and complete system by the Greeks. There is, indeed, one solitary Athenian example of Corinthian, which exhibits the utmost refinement of exquisite richness attempered by exquisite delicacy. In the Lysicrates capital,—as we will for convenience call it (the example alluded to being that of the monument of Lysicrates, otherwise called the Lantern of Demosthenes, at Athens),—foliation may be said to have attained its culminating point: rivalled it may be, but hardly surpassed. Still it must be confessed, as a whole, that Order leaves much to be desired for it, there being nothing of corresponding beauty and luxuriance in the rest of it. The cornice, for instance, is only a simple dentelled Ionic one, nor are any of the mouldings of the entablature cut. There was, however, in that particular case, above the entablature, what fully counterbalances and carries out the idea and expression of the capitals, namely, the ornamental roofing, and the matchless finial which crowns the structure, and produces a full climax of beauty and of grace. Charming as the original itself is, or, more correctly speaking, was, it has perhaps been more blunderingly copied and imitated than almost any other antique structure. Although the whole—its lofty-proportioned basement included—is not above 36 feet high, a copy of it, or what calls itself such, has sometimes been hoisted up on the top of a lofty tower, or raised on a modern church or chapel to serve as its belfry; or else the columns and entablature have been taken just verbatim, and applied, by way of change, as an Order, upon a scale for which the capitals, at least, were never intended. The Strand front or entrance of Exeter Hall consists of a loggia with lofty columns of the kind, whose capitals, being placed at such a height, show as no better than heavy sculptured masses whose details it is impossible, or at least requires great patience, to make out. More preposterously still, the Girard College at Philadelphia plumes itself upon exhibiting an exact copy of this Order, where the columns are magnified to the height of between fifty and sixty feet, so that all that can be made out of the capital is, that it is exceedingly rich,—by very far too much so for any other part or feature in the building;—and that is called being classical!

Let us now consider the Corinthian Order in its general and prominent characteristics, belonging to all varieties of it alike. Although the Order itself is the most delicate and lightest of the three, the capital is the largest, being considerably more than a diameter in height,—upon the average, about a diameter and a quarter. This, however, will cause the reader no surprise, if he bears in mind what has been before said as to the proportion to be observed between the column and its capital. The taller the former is, the taller must be the latter also, and so far bulkier; although, while actually increasing its bulk, its tallness corrects the appearance of heaviness by giving the proportion of slenderness. A capital whose height is only half a diameter is, of course, by no means positively so bulky as one which is upwards of an entire diameter in height, but then it is much bulkier or broader in its proportions, being about twice as broad as it is high,—whereas the other is much higher than it is wide. This explanation makes, we hope, the matter sufficiently clear, and that after it the reader will not feel himself at all puzzled about it.

The capital has two rows of leaves, eight in each row, so disposed that of the taller ones composing the upper row, one comes in the middle, beneath each face of the abacus, and the lower leaves alternate with the upper ones, coming between the stems of the latter; so that in the first or lower tier of leaves there is in the middle of each face a space between two leaves occupied by the stem of the central leaf above them. Over these two rows is a third series of four leaves, turned so as to support the small volutes which, in turn, support the angles of the abacus. Besides these outer volutes, which are invariably turned diagonally, as in the four-faced Ionic capital, there are two other smaller ones, termed caulicoli, which meet each other beneath a flower on the face of the abacus. The abacus itself is differently shaped from what it is in either of the other two Orders. In the Doric it is, as we have seen, merely a thick square slab, fitting the echinus beneath it, and left perfectly plain. In the Ionic it is square, but its sides are moulded, whether they are carved or not. The Corinthian abacus, on the contrary, is not, properly speaking, a square, although it may be said to be so in its general form, inasmuch as it possesses squareness, having four equal sides. Instead of being straight, the sides of the abacus are concave in plan, being curved outwards so as to produce a sharp point at each corner, which is accordingly cut off. Thus we find that the abacus here assumes a very different shape from its original one; yet merely to know this is to know very little. Such form of it is of course a distinction, but it was not for the sake of distinction that it was adopted. It grew out of intention and purpose: it was dictated by necessity—by artistic necessity at least, which requires that the abacus should be adjusted to and conform to the upper part of the capital, so that they fit each other. Now a square abacus would not at all suit a capital whose foliage spreads out so widely at its angles. We have spoken of the capitals of the Tower of the Winds, as, according to our opinion, showing the earliest formation of what we now call the Corinthian capital. In that example the abacus is square, and the upper row of leaves are of the kind called water-leaves, from their resemblance to those of water-plants, being broad and flat, and merely carved upon the vase or body of the capital. The next stage of progress or transition was to add larger curling leaves and volutes to support the angles of the abacus; but then if the abacus remained square as before, it would either overhang the capital too much in the centre of each face of it, or would not cover the enlarged sweep of the leaves and volutes at the angles. Consequently, it was necessary to effect both extension and reduction for the abacus,—extension at its angles, and reduction as regards its general bulk, which beforehand apparently very difficult, if not impossible feat, was accomplished in the simplest manner possible, by merely curving the sides of the abacus. Thus not only is the abacus expressly shaped in conformity with the great projection of the leaves, &c., at the four angles of the capital,[3] but a beautiful contrast, contributing to general harmony, ensues in consequence,—the concave sides of the abacus corresponding antithetically—in other words, contrasting with the general convexity of the capital.

The general structure and configuration of the Corinthian capital are now described, and, it is to be hoped, understood also. It may be as well, however, just to recapitulate: the body of the capital is surrounded by two rows of leaves, eight in each row; besides which there are four leaves, which, with the volutes over them, serve to support the four angles of the abacus, which is fashioned as we have just been explaining. Simple and limited as these elementary and constitutional forms may be thought to be,—insufficient for any great variety or range of character, the Corinthian capital admits of almost infinite modification. Putting entirely aside all details and their minutiæ, the capital of this Order is susceptible of very great diversity of character in regard to its general proportions alone, as may be seen by a comparison of a few—and they but a very few—examples given in a note below.[4]

Almost every antique example is marked by something peculiar to itself; wherefore, properly to analyze them and compare them all, would require not only some scores, but some hundreds of drawings, and hundreds might be multiplied into thousands, were we to collect together all the varieties of the descendants of the Corinthian or foliaged-capital column that are to be found in buildings of the so-called Byzantine style, when the original idea of an Order had been entirely lost sight of. In fact, all the compositions that have been produced with the intention of producing a new, and what as such ought to be a perfectly distinct Order, congruent in all its parts, have consisted of little more than variations of the Corinthian capital; as if difference in the details of the capital sufficed to constitute a different and quite distinct Order. Properly understood, Order is, if not exactly so, little more than another word for style; and a new style is not to be invented or established, like the alteration from old to new style of the almanac by Act of Parliament. Style must of necessity grow up gradually: the ideas of many minds must contribute to its formation.

From the examples whose proportions are stated in the preceding note, it will be seen that the height of the capital varies from 60', or just a diameter, to 87', or nearly half as much again; although it must be allowed that the latter is a very unusual degree of height, nor does that example (the Lysicrates one) belong, like the others, to the Roman Corinthian class. Reserving our remarks on one or two particular specimens of the latter till after we have spoken generally of the other parts of the Order, we continue by saying that the proper Corinthian base differs from that of the usual Ionic or Attic in having two smaller scotiæ, separated by two astragals: however, both kinds are employed indiscriminately, and the Attic is that which is generally used, except a greater degree of delicacy and richness than ordinary be required. As the shaft is fluted similarly to that of the Ionic column, viz. with twenty-four channels, there is nothing for notice or remark there, unless it be that the flutes are sometimes cabled, as it is called, that is, the channels are hollowed out for only about two-thirds of the upper part of the shaft, and the remainder cut so that each channel has the appearance of being partly filled up by a round staff or piece of rope, whence the term cabling. Though not approved by puritan critics,—who, nevertheless, wink at, or else are blind to much greater licenses,—this mode of fluting certainly gives an expression of greater strength to the lower part of the column, and, by contrast, that of greater delicacy to the upper one. Although fluting, for the columns, seems to have been considered by the Ancients essential to the character of this Order, the Moderns appear to consider it quite a matter of indifference, and what may be omitted at discretion. Undoubtedly there are several antique examples exceedingly richly decorated in all other respects, yet with the shafts of the columns unfluted; but then that was for very good reason, the shafts being either of polished granite, or precious marble, whose intrinsic value and beauty fully supplied the place of further embellishment.

Entablature.—The architrave is generally divided into three faciæ, (the lower one much narrower than the others, which is rather contrary to architectonic principle, the weaker member being placed under heavier ones,) with mouldings between them, which, though frequently left plain, are properly enriched in the best and most consistently finished-up examples. We pass over the frieze, that being merely a single surface, either plain or sculptured. The cornice is very much larger than in the other Orders,—larger as to height, and consequently as to projection also; which increased height and projection, and we may add, increased richness, are demanded by the greatly enlarged bulk of the capital and its more elaborate decoration. Examples vary so greatly that we can give only approximating mean and average proportions, which may be set down at about 2 diam. 12' for the whole entablature, and 54', or something less than a diameter, for the cornice; but it is in many instances more, in others as much less. As may be supposed from this greatly increased depth of the cornice, it consists of a greater number of mouldings beneath the corona, for that and the cymatium over it invariably retain their places as the crowning members of the whole series of mouldings. To the dentels of the Ionic cornice is added a row of modillions, immediately beneath and supporting the corona. These modillions are ornamental blocks, curved in their under surface somewhat after the manner of the letter S turned thus [symbol]; and between them and the dentels, and also below the latter, are other mouldings, sometimes cut, at others left plain. Sometimes a plain uncut dentel band is substituted for dentels; sometimes, in simpler cornices, that is omitted altogether, and plainer blocks are employed instead of modillions; or else both dentels and modillions are omitted, as in the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, notwithstanding that it is considerably enriched, even the face of the corona being fluted.

Besides the several varieties of the Corinthian shown in the whole composition of the Order, or the columns and entablature together, there are numerous fragmentary examples existing, either in single columns or capitals alone, or in cornices and other parts of entablatures; some of which display such prodigality of decoration and such difference of character from the usual Corinthian, that they might very well pass for belonging to a distinct Order, if that variety which is classed as a separate one, under the name of Composite, can with any propriety be reckoned such, merely because the volutes at the angles of the capital are expanded into the proportions of those in the Roman Ionic capital.

The very dissimilar varieties to be met with, all belonging to one and the same Order, show plainly enough that the Architects of antiquity considered themselves at liberty to design their own detail, and to treat an Order as a composition marked out for them in its leading forms and general proportions, but which they might fashion nearly ad libitum in other respects. Modern Architects adopt a contrary course, which, if not particularly artistic, or even rational, is certainly convenient; although in spite of all precaution to secure conformity and maintain architectural orthodoxy, grievous licentiousness will creep in. It is something to get what is only a faithful copy of an ancient example, but it is only very rarely we get even that. For instance, fluting is omitted for the columns where such decoration may be required, in order to make them correspond with the degree of richness given to the entablature; or else it is the latter with which wholesale liberty is taken,—mouldings which in the cornice of the original are more or less enriched, being left plain, or a bare frieze substituted for a sculptured one, and other little liberties of that kind, which are considered perfectly allowable, and to make hardly any real difference, although they in fact alter the character of the whole composition. Either the original is itself faulty, or it must suffer by piecemeal alteration. It will, perhaps, bear to be somewhat reduced in richness, or, vice versâ, to have a greater degree of decoration given it; but in whichever way such kind of alteration takes place, it should be conducted uniformly for the whole composition. No excellence of proportions can atone for disproportion in regard to consistency of embellishment, and for the general disharmony of the whole composition. Italian Architects not unfrequently either overload their compositions with ornament, or leave them quite bare, and make no scruple of putting a cornice of the most meagre description, without either dentels or modillions, to an Order whose capitals denote it to be intended for Ionic or Corinthian.

It was, perhaps, fortunate both for Sir John Soane, and that example of the Corinthian which he employed for the Bank of England, that it was not an invention of his own, or it would, in all probability, have been ridiculed as a monstrosity; and he would have been thought to have there out-Soaned himself in whimsicality and capriciousness. As it happens to be, however, an express copy from the circular Temple at Tivoli, people are at liberty to admire it, more especially as the mere application of it for the first time in this country—the only one where it has been adopted—does not exalt Soane into the successful inventor of a ‘new Order.’ In the system of the Orders it may certainly be regarded as a newly-discovered planet, being so distinct from every other example of the foliaged-capital class; distinct not only in the capital itself, but in all its members, in all its proportions, in the style of all its details, and, consequently, in its character. The height of the column is only 9·25' diameters; the capital, measured from above the astragal, only 1 diameter, and the entablature only 1·42' diameter. These proportions give the whole Order a certain expression of masculine simplicity, more especially as the column is hardly diminished at all, the difference between the upper and lower diameter amounting to no more than 4', or only ¹/₁₅th of the larger diameter, that being of course 60', and the other 56'. The base consists of two tori, but instead of the usual scotiæ between, there is merely a narrow plain fillet, and a second broader one, overhung by the upper torus. Besides which, another peculiarity is, that the lower torus is somewhat detached from the surface on which the column stands, by a very narrow but deep incision beneath it,—a mode of treatment quite different from the usual one of placing the base upon a square plinth, but which, different as it is, does not produce, as might be supposed, any appearance of weakness, the incision being no more than a mere line—a delicate artistic touch. The fluting (at least the mode in which the flutes are terminated) is not a little remarkable; for below, they and the fillets are continued, and die into the upper edge of the base; while above, they are terminated horizontally instead of by a semicircular curve, as in all other examples of both Ionic and Corinthian fluting. The capital is so exceedingly peculiar in conformation and detail as to defy verbal description. The leaves have nothing in common with those of the usual acanthus; the volutes are of peculiar shape, and the flower which ornaments the abacus is as singularly large, and descends to the top of the upper leaf: boldness and breadth of parts characterize the whole composition, and also that of the entablature. As all its mouldings are uncut, this last would be much too plain to be in keeping with the column, were not the frieze sculptured with rich and ‘bossy’ festoons in the same energetic style as the capitals. Such ornamentation of the frieze is absolutely part and parcel of the Order; and the value of it will be best understood by comparing those parts of the Bank, in which it is retained, with others in which it is omitted. The same Order, with the frieze enriched, has also been since employed in the front of St. Paul’s School, St. Paul’s Churchyard; but there, owing to windows and other disturbing circumstances, its effect is greatly impaired, as is the case even in the centre of the south front of the Bank itself, where it differs widely from the beautiful loggia at the north-west angle of that edifice, and compared with which it manifests in the part first mentioned a sad falling off, becoming no better than a dull, spiritless, prosaic version of its real self. In a word, it is out of its element.

The next, and it must be the last example which can here be noticed, is that of the so-called ‘Jupiter Stator,’ which may be said to exhibit Corinthianism in its fullest luxuriance. Great as is the dissimilarity between this and the preceding example of the Order, they are alike in one respect, each being perfect in its way, complete, and harmonious in all its parts; and we ought to be thankful that two such opposite specimens of one and the same—namely, the foliaged-capital style—have been preserved to us for our admiration, and for our instruction also, as if on purpose to convince us what opposite kinds of beauty may be arrived at where, though the general configuration of the Order is adhered to, a different spirit and character are infused into it. Of the example now referred to, the character is elaborate richness subdued by refined taste. Though of lower proportions than usual, the capital is singularly ornate, and a corresponding degree of ornateness is diffused over the entire Order. The second or middle facia of the architrave, and all the members of the cornice, except the dentels and the cymatium over the corona, are sculptured, and the whole is consistently finished up in every part. The first application among us of this superb example of the Corinthian was in Holland’s beautiful portico to Carlton House, where, instead of being moderated, its richness was even augmented, the bases of the columns being carved, and the frieze sculptured. That portico has disappeared: the columns, indeed, still remain, having been used for the portico of the National Gallery, but the Order itself exists no more—at least not there. Another copy of it we now have in the Treasury Buildings, Whitehall, where it was applied by Soane, but with no great judgment or taste, his building being quite at variance with the Order he selected for it, the former being any thing but Corinthian in character. Perhaps he selected it, as we have done, for the purpose of exhibiting in two of his works such very distinct styles of Corinthian as are the Tivoli and the Jupiter Stator Orders. As now altered by Mr. Barry, the Treasury Buildings have received a great accession of richness, and the frieze, which was before plain, is now ornamented. But the Order itself is not improved, at least does not show itself to the same advantage as before, by being raised so much higher above the eye than it was at first; it looks comparatively diminished, and the beauty of its details is lost. We have, indeed, the Order; and nothing is wanting but that impressiveness and effect which gave such charm to the portico of Carlton House.

As to that variety of the Corinthian which passes under the name of Composite, the reader may now, after what has been said and shown, be left to judge whether it can with any propriety be classed as a distinct Order, instead of being reckoned merely as a variety of the other, and by no means the most striking variety of that foliaged-capital class. The difference between the two extends to no more than a part of the detail of the capital, the general normal character or Corinthianism of which is no way affected. And if the Ionic Order be allowed to comprehend many decidedly marked varieties of the voluted-capital type, there surely can be no necessity for splitting Doric and Corinthian, and getting out of them the Tuscan and Composite Orders. It will, perhaps, be fancied by some that by thus reducing the number of the Orders to three, we in some degree limit the resources which the Architect derives from them. The fact, however, is precisely the reverse; for although we limit them in number, we set no limits to their respective powers. A hundred different examples, each marked by individual character, or peculiarity of treatment, may yet all belong to the same generic type or order. Ancient examples are not to be considered merely as patterns, to be copied mechanically, but as studies for the Architect’s guidance and instruction.