The Art of Building a Home: A collection of lectures and illustrations

by Barry Parker; Sir Raymond Unwin

In such views as these there are houses and buildings of all sizes: the hut in which the old road-mender lives by himself, the inn with its ancient sign, the prosperous yeoman’s homestead, the blacksmith’s house and forge, the squire’s hall, the vicarage, and the doctor’s house, are all seemingly jumbled together; and mingled with them are barns and village shops, wood-yards and wheel-wrights’ sheds. Yet there is no sense of confusion; on the contrary the scene gives us that peaceful feeling which comes from the perception of orderly arrangement. This is the more surprising because the order is rather intuitively felt than seen or consciously realised by the beholder. It is due very largely to the beautiful grouping of buildings and roofs, a grouping which has come so inevitably that it seems as if it would be somewhat difficult to avoid it, or to utterly spoil it. Certainly where many buildings of various characters and sizes are gathered together, as in a village, a picturesqueness of grouping is rarely absent even when the individual buildings have in themselves no special beauty; and very often the introduction of one or two really ugly modern buildings detracts little from this particular charm.

The village was the expression of a small corporate life in which all the different units were personally in touch with each other, conscious of and frankly accepting their relations, and on the whole content with them. This relationship reveals itself in the feeling of order which the view induces. Every building honestly confesses just what it is, and so falls into its place. The smallest cottage has its share of the village street on to which the manor house also fronts. It is content with that share and with its condition, and does not try to look like a villa. It is this crystallisation of the elements of the village in accordance with a definitely organized life of mutual relations, respect or service, which gives the appearance of being an organic whole, the home of a community, to what would otherwise be a mere conglomeration of buildings. This effect is greatly enhanced where the central feature around which the village has clustered, the church, castle, or manor house, is of sufficient size and architectural interest to challenge comparison with the whole village rather than with the individual houses. The impressive pile of the old Priory as seen across the valley towering above all the other grey roofed buildings of the little town of Cartmel, is a fine example of this. The sense of unity is further increased in most old villages by a general harmony in colour and style of the buildings themselves, due to the prevalent use of certain materials, which are usually those found in the district.

In the modern building-estate all these elements of beauty are entirely wanting. The land is cut up into little plots all about the same size; these are sold to a chance collection of people who erect on them houses of any conceivable style, or lack of style; each deals with his own plot quite regardless of the others; and every house seems to be wishing to dissociate itself as much as possible from its neighbours, to look as distinct and imposing as it can. Ground enough not being allowed for each house to stand comfortably within its plot, such separation as exists only makes it possible for every house to block the view from some other, and easy for the occupants to over-look their neighbours and realise their near presence all round to a maximum extent. No grouping of buildings is thought of nor any organized arrangement, beyond occasionally some feeble attempt at laying out streets; and it is rarely indeed that we seem able to erect a public building of any sort at all in scale with the extent of the surrounding houses.

To compensate for the loss of the interest springing from variety of grouping, a loss specially evident in the old-fashioned four-square suburban villa, an attempt is now mostly made to introduce some special features into each individual house, and so to create an artificial picturesqueness. This is not uncommonly done by needlessly cutting up the roof with turrets from which there is no outlook, or gables which serve no purpose except to provide an excuse for a little black and white half-timber work. A street of such houses is however even less satisfactory than one of the old square box houses, in that it is more artificial, and lacks a certain element of dignity which its predecessor often acquired from its very simplicity. In short, around all our towns are spread patches of villadom of the beauty of which no one can cherish any memories, but the ugliness of which causes them to be regarded by many with a cordial hatred; so much so that to the lover of natural scenery the commencement of a new house is regarded as a sure sign of the coming destruction of the old beauty.

Modern conditions of life and work are not conducive to the production of great architecture, and it seems probable that we shall have to await some change in these conditions before much that is really fine in building will be accomplished. But in the simpler buildings required for domestic purposes there are marked signs of improvement. Already a few architects are meeting our wants without affectation or pedantry, but with simple directness and honesty of construction, and are producing individual buildings of great beauty; but so long as these remain isolated examples, mere units in a chance collection, they can do little to help the whole effect. The various buildings must be brought into harmonious relations one with another; the suburb or settlement must be conceived in some broader spirit and developed in relation to a definite idea of the whole, if any improvement is to be effected.

We cannot of course put back the hands of time, nor can we re-create the spirit which built the old churches that crown so many villages. The relationships of feudalism have gone, and democracy has yet to evolve some definite relationships of its own, which when they come will doubtless be as picturesque as the old forms. But allowing full force to these disadvantages, we could, if we really desired it, even now so arrange a new building site that it should not be an actual eye-sore, and might manage that it should have some little of the charm of the old village.

Thanks to the growth of taste among all classes of people there is springing up a demand for something of the kind. In all the large towns are numbers of people who hate the ugly & dreary life that they are condemned to live in them, who love the country and country life, and who will travel long distances to and from their work that they may be able to enjoy them. These people do not want to live in isolated houses, out of sight of their neighbours; they are townspeople of sociable instincts: but neither do they desire to live in a mere extension of the fringe of the town. What they really want are country villages, little centres of life large enough and varied enough to give them interesting human society and a few of the more necessary comforts of modern life, such as a post office, a railway station, efficient drainage and water supply. These people have many common interests, much that all would wish to preserve in a new home, as, for example, fresh air, and an open view of country that cannot readily be spoilt. Just such an amount of associated action as would ensure these advantages for them all, would suffice to give the sense of cohesion to the whole settlement which is so lamentably wanting when each struggles ineffectually to secure as much as he can of them for himself alone. With some co-operation the maximum of these advantages could be obtained for every individual house, be it large or small; without it none but those rich enough to purchase a large tract of country for themselves can be secure of even a limited share of them.

Within easy reach of large towns, estates & farms are constantly changing hands at prices little above their value as agricultural land. Frequently we find the enterprising purchaser takes advantage of the demand for country homes: he spends a few hundred pounds in developing his purchase as a building estate, by making roads and laying drains; then he cuts it up into small plots and sells it at three, five, or even ten times the rate at which he bought it. If a few of those who wish to secure a country home were to purchase such an estate or farm among them, they could get all the advantage of cheap land themselves. If they were then to develop the site on co-operative lines, they could obtain many other equally solid advantages. The houses could be grouped together and so arranged that each would obtain a sunny aspect and an open outlook; and portions of the land could be reserved for ever from being built upon to secure these views.

See plates [11], [38] and [39].

The arrangement that should be adopted to obtain the best result, would depend entirely on the nature of the site. If it were on the ridge of some rising ground, probably the best plan would be to group the houses at each side of a good broad roadway, taking the wide village street as the suggestion; while on a good southern slope, the most successful plan might be to gather the houses and other buildings on three sides of an open space, adopting the village green as the model. Where the site was large enough, and the slope sufficient, a second green with its houses could be arranged, low enough not to obstruct the view from the upper one; or where two sides of a valley were included, villages might be placed on each of the slopes, leaving the valley below for ever free to afford a pleasant prospect for each village. The particular arrangement to be adopted would be a matter for most careful thought, and no building should be commenced until some definite conception of what the completed village was to be like had been worked out. The sites for prospective schools, church, or other public buildings, should be reserved from the first, in accordance with the size to which the available land would allow the community to grow. The houses should be clustered together as much as possible, not set villa-wise each in the centre of a little plot. Some few houses of wealthier members could stand back in larger grounds, taking advantage of outlying positions or sharing in the common outlook as seemed best: their gardens and entrances would make pleasant openings in the buildings. But the majority of the houses should be gathered into groups, which would inevitably acquire picturesqueness from the variety both in size and form of the buildings.