The life and works of Sir Charles Barry

by Alfred Barry

But the building which first gained him high reputation, and which even now holds a high place among his works, was the Travellers’ Club. He entered into a select competition for its erection in the year 1829. In sending in his designs he had great misgivings as to success; for, though he felt confident that the building would be satisfactory if erected, he thought that in the drawing it would be too plain to be attractive. Fortunately he was mistaken; and no sooner was the building carried out, than its erection was recognised as a real and important step in artistic progress. Italian architecture was already making its way in England; but it was observed at the time by a favourable critic, that “Barry’s Italian differed from much of that which had preceded it, as the perfection of language differs from mere patois.” The work itself was noticed by those interested in the revival of the Italian style, as a practical protest against the identification of that style in England with what is “little more than one mode of it, namely, the Palladian, which, if not the most vicious and extravagant, is almost the poorest and the most insipid.” The chief points of novelty noticed in it were the large proportion of the solid wall to the windows, and the striking effect of the great cornice.[38] “There is no single distinctive mark” (it was said) “which more forcibly characterizes the difference between the Palladian school and that which preceded it, than the cornicione employed by the older artists to crown their façades. It was reserved for Mr. Barry to introduce the cornicione here, and its value as an architectural feature may be said to have been since admitted by acclamation. That the example thus set has not been lost upon us is already tolerably evident.”[39] But the great charm of the building was attributed with justice to the beautiful simplicity of its design (according, as it did, so well with the comparatively small size of the building), and the exquisite proportion and finish of all its parts.[40] In it, as in all Mr. Barry’s designs, there was not a line which had not been carefully and even elaborately studied, and the apparent ease and simplicity of the result, while it might lead the ignorant to wonder what there was in it to be called original, showed to competent critics the presence of the “ars celare artem,” which is pre-eminently the characteristic of genius.

The woodcut on the opposite page gives the elevation of the garden-front, and the plan of the principal floor. With regard to the latter, there is little to

notice, except the care for finish and detail, which has been remarked as eminently characteristic of its author. The position of the door at one extremity of the street front was acknowledged by him to be a blemish, inconsistent with the symmetrical principle of his design, but forced upon him by considerations of convenience, and the very small frontage at his command. The grouping of the central windows on the garden front was also an innovation on the principle of the regular Italian front, but it was one of a totally different kind. It was thoroughly in accordance with the main idea of symmetry, while it gave life to that symmetry by the evidence of artistic design, and it should be added, that it is as successful and convenient, in relation to the internal arrangement, as it is graceful externally. It was noticed and approved of at once by all critics.

The success of the design being undoubted, it naturally followed that its claims to originality were disputed. The garden front was acknowledged to be original and singularly beautiful, but the street front was asserted to be a mere copy of the Villa Pandolfini. On this point it may be better to quote the words of one in the highest degree competent to give an opinion. “The Pall Mall front has been characterized by superficial observers as a copy, with slight modifications, from Raffaelle’s Pandolfini Palace at Florence. One moment’s comparison of the two elevations will suffice to entirely dispel the idea. The Pandolfini Palace has, in common with the Travellers’ Club-house, only the accidents of being two-storied, having rusticated angles, and a doorway at the extreme right-hand of the ground-floor of the principal façade. In every other respect the dissimilarities are most striking; the proportions of the windows are about one-third narrower in the Travellers’ than they are in the Pandolfini; in the former they are Ionic on the first-floor and Doric on the ground-floor; while in the latter they are Corinthian on the first-floor, and have simply returned architraves and no order on the ground-floor. The four windows on the first-floor of the Florentine façade are surmounted with alternately angular and segmental pediments, and united by panels in the interspaces, and by horizontal members; while the five of the Pall Mall building are precisely uniform, and the wall is entirely free from panelling, and the running through of any one of the members forming or decorating the fenestration above the cill-level. One of the leading features in the Pandolfini is its deep plain frieze, adorned only with a simple classic-looking inscription; while in the entablature of the Travellers’ Club the frieze is reduced to so small a proportion, and is so highly carved, as in fact to do duty rather as an enriched member of the cornice, than as a distinctive frieze at all.”[41]

This question of originality, always recurring in the career of every great artist, in fact of every distinguished man, is often most inconsiderately handled. It is clear that the progressiveness of man depends on the power, which each generation has, of using and modifying the work of its predecessors. Every great epoch in science and in art has had its period of anticipation and preparation. It is the characteristic of genius to create out of materials common and well known to all; and its creations are universally recognised and accepted, as the clear and beautiful expression of that which is vaguely felt by the generality of men. If a man, in order to be original, defies established principles, and despises the treasures of the past, he voluntarily places himself on a level below that which has been already attained by humanity. Originality, in the true sense of the word, implies that ideas and suggestions from without shall be truly appreciated, studied, and reproduced with the stamp of native thought and imagination upon them, to individualize what is general, and to harmonize materials in themselves crude or uncongenial. Then, and generally speaking not till then, can we hope for a new creation, which shall be true, and therefore permanent, in harmony with that which has gone before, and therefore capable of striking a new key-note not unaccordant with the old.

In this sense it cannot be denied that Mr. Barry’s work was original. Simple details excepted, he copied little or nothing. Every design was conceived and moulded into shape, before he referred to a book or drawing. His mind was teeming with the stores of memory; but, when he borrowed an idea either from the works of the past or the advice and criticism of the present, it was sure to be modified or replaced by some fresh kindred idea of his own. External influence was with him only suggestive; it set his mind in motion, but did not dictate the direction in which it should proceed. “Where we have an opportunity” (says the memoir already quoted) “of tracing the progress of his thoughts through a series of studies for any particular building, we find the work growing, as it were, evenly under his hand from the slightest generalization in the first small-scale sketch, to the plotted-out bay or repeat, and subsequently to the large-scale detail; then back again to another general elevation, to see how far that particular detail will work well in combination, then altered according to the result of that test, and roughed out again on a large scale to make sure of the effect of the parts when near the eye, and so on, till his fastidious judgment would be almost bewildered under the multiplying and conflicting impressions produced by the various studies. The man who works perseveringly in this way may at least make sure of two things—that his work will be good, and that it will be his own.”[42]

What is here so well said as to his work generally, is true of the Travellers’ Club in particular. It was certainly like nothing which had preceded it in England; it was certainly recognised as a model for future imitation or guidance. These two facts alone stamp the design as having a real place in architectural progress, and justify its being regarded as that, which first secured to its author a position among those who have deserved well of the cause of Art.

Meanwhile adverse criticisms did not weigh very heavily on his mind. He felt that by the new building he had become a man of mark, and had produced a decided effect on the growth and improvement of Italian architecture in the country. He was steadily advancing in prosperity, having passed through the period of doubt and difficulty, which besets the opening of most artistic lives.