The chapel is on a higher level than the church. It is circular, and built of black, or rather dark gray marble. The cupola is formed of arched ribs, on chords of the circle; from the summits of which other similar ribs spring in succession, thus forming a sort of dome. It is not handsome, but Guarini its architect is more licentious than Borromini, without the feeling which sometimes shines through the extravagance of the latter. The other famous Piedmontese architect, Ivara or Juvarra, is of the same sort. Neither of these were natives of Piedmont, but they seem to have been principally employed in this country.
The Church of San Filippo is perhaps the finest at Turin, but it is not very handsome. The architects of this city have been fond of dividing the nave into large parts, and redividing each of these into a centre and two sides, by an arch resting on two columns, and smaller openings between these and the piers. The effect is not at all good, nor is it possible it should be so; every thing which divides the parts into separate compositions weakens the effect of the whole, by destroying its unity. San Lorenzo is curious from its fantastical dome, formed on ribs, each of which is the chord of three eighths of a circle; we readily trace in this, the architect of the chapel of the Sudario. The Church of Santa Maria della Consolata, that of Corpus Domini, and that of San Martino, are all rich in marbles, many of which are beautiful, though not equal to those of Rome. The architecture is bad in all. It seems as if the French had made a bad copy of the early Italian, and the Piedmontese had again copied the French very badly, with a considerable addition of extravagance and affectation in each part of the process.
The Arsenal is a building which has a character of solidity suitable to its purpose, but the details, particularly those of the lower part, are very bad. The entrance is at the angle, which has some advantages both in convenience and picturesque effect. The palace is not a handsome building, nor is it particularly otherwise. It is large, but has not the magnificence which is expected in a royal mansion. Within, the rooms are too much adorned with gilding and looking-glass, yet the principal apartments are rich and splendid, if not beautiful; and this is some merit, for we have abundant evidence that costly materials may be disposed so as to leave a poor and meagre appearance. The collection of paintings is very fine, and there are among them a great many excellent productions of the Flemish school.
The principal theatre, which is united to the palace, is 83 feet wide. In the roof, the architect has endeavoured to unite in one system of timbers both the king-post and queen-post truss.
The style of ornament is not good, but there is hardly ever any representation at this theatre. That of Carignano is the one in common use.
The private palaces of Turin would strike a stranger who had just crossed the Alps as very magnificent, but one who has been much in Italy, will have met with too many on as grand a scale, and in a purer taste, to bestow on them much attention. That of Prince Carignano is spacious, but the architect, Guarini, was totally incapable of appreciating the value of simplicity. I observed among those of a smaller size two architectural features which particularly pleased me: in one the entrance is at the angle of the building, and the perspective on the diagonal has an agreeable and singular effect. That of the other is a spacious hall; and beyond it is a magnificent staircase ascending to the right and left. The coachman drives into the hall, and between the lower flights of the staircase, where he may let down his charge on either side, and then continue under the upper united flight into the court. The inhabitants of Turin say, that there are only two palaces in the city in which the owners are exposed to the weather in getting in and out of their carriages, and these were built by French architects. The climate renders such a provision useful, but the experience of Paris and London shews that it may be dispensed with. The care with which men provide against a disagreeable event is not in proportion to its frequency. A Frenchman, in expressing to me his satisfaction with the open gigs of Naples, added that they would be very unsuitable to so wet a climate as that of Paris. The Londoners seem to be of a different opinion. The Botanic garden at Turin is that of a royal palace, now for the most part destroyed. The superintendent Piottaz is very zealous for its improvement; but the want of funds, and other circumstances, have impeded him, and we cannot at present say much in its praise. I found there a young woman employed in making drawings of the plants it contains; and as for a long period, fifty of these drawings have been executed every year, (always by members of the same family,) the collection is a large one, but as might be expected from such an arrangement, they hardly rise above a respectable mediocrity.
On two different occasions I have walked over the hills south-east of Turin. The second excursion was on the 15th, when professor Balbis kindly accompanied me to the Superga. The church there is built, as you know, on the spot whence Prince Eugene, and the Duke of Savoy in 1706, surveyed the position of the French army then besieging Turin. The prince there formed his plans for forcing the enemy to raise the siege; and the edifice was begun in 1715. It is externally circular, with a portico of eight columns, which the architect could find no better way of arranging than the following.
They are very much bellied, and being built up of small pieces, the whole effect is poor. Internally, the arrangement proceeds on a design of eight larger columns disposed in a circle, (but at unequal distances) and supporting a circular entablature; but filled in octagonally with straight walls pierced with arches. This disposition has the disagreeable effect of two buildings, one within the other, without any harmony of parts or character. A chapel underneath forms the burial-place of the princes of Savoy. The last deceased occupies a station in front, and retreats to a recess behind when his successor comes to occupy his place. The situation of this church and convent, for the thing would have been imperfect without the latter, is uncommonly fine. They occupy the highest summit of a range of hills completely separated from the Alps by the Po and its immediate valley, which gives the eye full liberty to wander over those immense masses. Unfortunately for me, they were, at the time of my visit, enveloped in thick clouds. The valley of the Po and numerous ranges of lower hills were spread out before me, but the air was nowhere clear, and consequently the view was not seen to advantage, but we had a delightful walk, and good botanical success.