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Wednesday, July 16, 2014

La Historia de los Revestimientos: La Civilización Antigua y los Períodos Clásicos


Çatalhöyük fresco,  (ca. 7500 AC)
El arte de hacer revestimientos continuos es tan antiguo como la civilización, de hecho, dicho de un modo más enfático, sin  revestimiento no hay civilización. La habilidad humana de abandonar la cueva, construir su hábitat a base de piedras o cañas y cubrirlo con morteros de tierra, permitió al hombre crear la “cueva” deseada. La construcción de viviendas permanentes cerca del agua dulce y en una posición defendible o contigua a tierras cultivables, significó para la humanidad el inicio de la vida en comunidad y se empezaron a formar las primeras ciudades.

Los primeros revestimientos fueron hechos con tierra. Estos consistían en una sencilla mezcla de arcilla, arena y paja que no necesita fraguar y simplemente se seca con el sol. La misma mezcla se empleaba para hacer ladrillos en moldes. Estas técnicas de construcción con tierra son aún a día de hoy de las más usadas a nivel mundial.

Los revestimientos de calcio, ya sea a base de cal o yeso fueron descubiertos durante la producción de alfarería. Por casualidad, se seleccionaron piedras de yeso y cal para construir el horno donde se cocía la cerámica. El calor del fuego hizo desaparecer el contenido de agua de las piedras de cal y de yeso haciéndolas friables y convirtiéndolas en polvo, cuando el agua se añadía a las brasas para apagar el fuego, se descubrió que el polvo había creado una pasta que endurecía rápidamente.

La Civilización Antigua

Uno de los primeros ejemplos arqueológicos de ambos; de la civilización y de los revestimientos, se encuentra en Çatalhöyük (ca. 7500 AC) todavía presente a dia de hoy en Turquía. Se trata de un denso conjunto urbano hecho con ladrillos de barro, los suelos y las paredes están revestidas con el material del suelo local; una marga arcillosa que sirvió para hacer un revestimiento adecuado. Lo poco que sabemos de esta civilización antigua sobrevive en los frescos pintados representando numerosas escenas de caza, volcanes y patrones geométricos a modo de pura expresión decorativa.

Nefertiti
Los mejores ejemplos de revestimientos del Periodo  Preclásico se encuentran en la monumental arquitectura del antiguo Egipto con fecha del 3er milenio AC. Estas construcciones incluyen las pirámides de Giza hechas con  morteros de yeso y cal, y con revestimientos exteriores acabados con uno fino estuco de cal. Innumerables trabajos de frescos y ornamentos permanecen, así como el renombrado  busto de Nefertiti hecho con yeso que demuestra el paralelo desarrollo artístico de revestimientos decorativos. De hecho, la cal y el yeso producidos en Egipto fueron en muchos casos de calidad superior a la que se encuentra comercialmente hoy en día. Esto nos da el testimonio del hecho empírico de que la producción material de revestimiento refinados empezó muchas generaciones atrás.

La civilización Minoica emergió en el 2º milenio AC en la isla del Mediterráneo de Creta. Los minoicos fueron enormemente influenciados por los todavía exitosos Egipcios, como evidencia  arquitectónica está el Palacio de Cnosos y El palacio Festos.

Aun así, los minoicos fueron distinguidos por su extensivo uso de revestimientos en los espacios interiores. A comparación de los motivos egipcios elaborados en seco, los minoicos hicieron exuberantes y coloridas decoraciones al fresco. Aun manteniendo la vista de perfil y el contorno típico del arte egipcio, las técnicas del buon fresco empleadas por los artesanos minoicos obligó a una manera más rápida e improvisada de trabajar, resultando así una estética más fluida y vibrante.


El Período Clásico

Los micénicos reemplazaron a los minoicos y se convirtieron en la cultura dominante de Creta y del archipiélago griego manteniendo y refinando el estilo arquitectónico Minoico.

Aun así, Roma, caería por siglos a manos de los bárbaros sumergiendo a Europa en los años oscuros. Micenas, tuvo un destino similar a manos de las tribus conquistadoras Dóricas y Jónicas. Durante los años oscuros griegos se perdieron muchos conocimientos de la construcción y de la arquitectura  adquiridos durante siglos.

Finalmente, en siglo 8 AC, los dos grupos rivales se unieron para formar el pueblo Heleno y establecieron su cultura, la cual ha dejado un imborrable rastro en nuestra civilización humana.

Aunque el uso del revestimiento nunca cesó por completo, estos también tuvieron un renacimiento durante la Grecia Helénica. Gracias a los griegos tenemos la palabra Española “yeso”, derivada directamente de "gypsos" (γύψος) en griego. Del mismo modo, es fácil ver la correlación entre nuestra palabra "emplastar" con "emplastron" (εμπλαστρον) en griego, que significa "embadurnar con masa”.

Más allá del legado de la deuda de vocabulario griego, debemos también el mismo fundamento para nuestro patrimonio arquitectónico occidental. La máxima expresión de ornamentación y la representación de los órdenes arquitectónicos griegas: los dórico, jónico y corintio, continúa siendo hoy en día realizada en yeso.

Los griegos fueron invadidos militarmente por los romanos en el s.146 AC. Rápidamente, los romanos fueron simultáneamente cautivados por la cultura griega y adaptándola e incorporando a su filosofía, arte y arquitectura. Los romanos continuaron con su tradición de arquitectura templo; aun así, extendieron su arquitectura monumental para incluir basílicas seculares, monumentos imperiales y villas de palacio. La Domus Aurea “Casa de Oro” del Emperador Nerón y descubrimientos similares en Pompeya y Herculaneum son buenos ejemplos de cómo los revestimientos con cal trajeron el artístico cenit para la élite romana. Estos lugares ofrecen entrever el pasado, una era de opulencia, de lujosos interiores realizados con revestimientos finos muy decorativos, habitaciones enteras pintadas al fresco y bóvedas de cañón conferidas con suntuosas ornamentaciones en bajo
relieve.

Pompeiian Thermae
Los Romanos trajeron no solo grandes artistas y arquitectos, sino que también formidables ingenieros. Un tesoro permanece para nosotros; el exhaustivo tratado arquitectónico, Architectura, datado del siglo 1.AC escrito por el militar Marcus Polio Vitruvius. En su trabajo, conocido comúnmente como Los de libros de Arquitectura, Vitruvio dedica tres capítulos del libro II , para la selección de arena, cal y puzolanas para trabajos de estucos y hormigón. Además, dedicó la mayoría del libro VII a la específica preparación y aplicación de estucos de cal y pinturas al fresco.

La mayor de las civilizaciones antiguas, coincidió con el mejor desarrollo y entendimiento a la hora de hacer revestimientos. Los romanos expandieron el conocimiento más allá de los descubrimientos de los griegos: La adición de puzolanas a la cal, crearía una mezcla que fraguaba en el agua. El cemento nació a la vez que la ingeniería de la construcción estaba en crecimiento y los romanos
empezaron a construir carreteras, acueductos y puertos que todavía perduran a día de hoy. La destreza de la ingeniería romana y el descubrimiento del hormigón, culminó con su incomparable éxito arquitectónico; el Panteón. El cual permanece, siendo el domo más grande de hormigón sin reforzar que jamás se haya construido, con un diámetro interior de 142 metros a su base.

El Panteón, Roma

El tratado de Vitruvio, empezó a alcanzar su amplia publicación a principios del s.15. A finales del s.15 hay evidencia arquitectónica y escrita de las recetas de Vitruvio aplicadas en estuco hidráulico en Venecia y murano, 300 años antes de la llegada del cemento moderno. Más tarde vamos a explorar cómo sus escritos, así como los descubrimientos arqueológicos del Domus Aurea, inspiró a genios creativos como Da Vinci, Michelangelo y Raffaello al alcanzar alturas vertiginosas de la expresión
artística en fresco y estuco labrado durante el Renacimiento italiano.



Escrito por Patrick Webb

Traducido por Anna Castilla Vila

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Architectural Word of the Day; 91 - 100


NARTHEX

Placed at the western end of the basilica, the ‘narthex’ is a vestibule screened or walled off from the nave. A covered exterior portico might be considered an exonarthex. Historically, in church architecture the narthex was considered a public receiving area whilst the nave was reserved for baptized members of the congregation.

PINECONE, PINEAPPLE

The stylized forms of the pinecone or pineapple oft serve as decorative finials adorning gate-piers and are a symbol of hospitality. This lichen covered one looks ripe enough to eat!







SERLIANA, PALLADIAN or VENETIAN WINDOW

The use of a semicircular arch flanked by two narrower and lower rectangular openings was revived in practice by Renaissance architects Bramante and Rafael from ancient examples dating to the reign of Roman emperor Hadrian.

However, this motif would gain wide acceptance due to the treatises of Serlio and Palladio, featuring prominently in the later Georgian and Colonial architecture of Great Britain and subsequent Federal architecture of the United States.



Image courtesy of Domiane Forte
AARON'S ROD, CADUCEUS

The Latin term we use today really derives from the Greek karukeion (καρύκειον), meaning ‘herald’s staff’. You may recall it being held by the winged foot Hermes, Greek messenger of the gods. In the Olympic games the eternal flame is kept alive by the herald running with the caduceus, less the serpents and wings.

Of course the caduceus is also a symbol of medicine which may seem strange to us today. However, the association comes from ancient Egypt where before the general domestication of house cats, non-venomous snakes were maintained indoors to keep the rodent population in check and reduce pestilence.

SOFFIT

From the Italian ‘soffitto’ meaning something ‘affixed under’, soffits can refer to the underside of a variety of projecting or transversing features from arches to balconies.

The underneath of projecting cornices are ideal places to enrich mouldings as exemplified by this exterior soffit at the Breakers, Newport RI.

SYMMETRY

Derived from the ancient Greek ‘summetria’ (συμμετρία), meaning ‘of like measure’.

I think bilateral, axial symmetry is easy for us to identify, such as the symmetry we see everyday looking at our own face in the mirror (most of us anyway!) The Breakers in Newport displays this obvious symmetry as well. However, looking more carefully we can find many other subtle examples of symmetry manifest in the proportions of the façade, wing elevations, windows all the way down to the ornamentation.


Monday, July 7, 2014

The Lamp of Beauty – Part II, Monstrosities



Perseus and Medusa, Cellini
Perhaps it sounds odd to set aside a consideration of 'Monstrosities' as a focal point of a larger description of Beauty. Nevertheless, that is precisely what John Ruskin did and with good reason. Ruskin firmly held the position that the purest sources of beauty were "derived chiefly from the external appearances of organic nature." With its practically infinite degree of variety, nature remains an inexhaustible fountain of inspiration. Nevertheless, during the Renaissance there arose a growing tendency to instead conventionalize, to recycle previous forms of decoration as well as to imitate artificial, man-made forms.

By the 19th century the dearth of originality was palpable. Craftsmen were increasingly debased to skilled laborers, simply executing specifications received from architects, drawn from pattern books. Granted, to our 21st century eyes much of this ornamental work was of high quality, still being made from heritage materials, using traditional techniques, produced by the human hand. However, Ruskin and his contemporaries were very sensitive to the direction the Decorative Arts were heading as he expressed, "There are many forms of so called decoration in architecture...I have no hesitation in asserting to be not ornament at all, but to be ugly things, the expense of which ought to be in truth to be set down in the architect's contract, as 'For Monstrification.'"

I'll attempt to highlight some examples of what Ruskin saw as abuses of the period and in his spirit, temper the 'monstrosities' with some healthy examples.

The Meander

Bismuth
Also known as the Greek Key or Fret the Meander was an ubiquitous motif of the Greek Revival period, forged into ornamental iron gates or carved into large friezes and plinth blocks. Ruskin points out that the meander pattern is exceedingly rare in nature, only known to be occurring with the cooling of molten bismuth, itself a rare metal that must first be extracted from bismuth ore. Nature by and large abhors straight lines, particularly at the human scale. Perhaps fitting as a texture at the scale of coins or jewelry, in Ruskin's judgement the meander as architectural ornamentation was just ugly.



The Portcullis

Christ's College Gatehouse
Another contention of Ruskin was that our creation of beauty is owing to an imitative dependence on nature. This wasn't to say that everything a craftman created was a direct, faithful copy of what he saw. To the contrary it might instead be a coincidental resemblance, the incorporation of a particular curve or pattern from a leaf or web into the craftsman's design. Worse than the unimitative, abstract works like the aforementioned meander, Ruskin abhorred artificial imitation of man made objects. The regular grid of the portcullis he described as "unmitigatedly frightful" contrasting it with the worthy subject of a cobweb or wing of an insect.

Tiffany & Co.


Heraldry

Charlton House
Regarding coats of arms and escutcheons Ruskin acknowledged that heraldic decoration has its place, typically a prominent place above gates, entry doors etc. Also, some of the sculpted forms contained within such as animals or flowers might be in themselves quite beautiful. However, he likewise cautioned, "For the most part, heraldic similitudes and arrangements are so professedly and pointedly unnatural, that it would be difficult to invent anything uglier; and the use of them as a repeated decoration will utterly destroy both the power and beauty of any building...it is right to tell those who enter your doors that you are such a one, and of such a rank; but to tell them again and again, wherever they turn, becomes soon impertinence." 

Scrolls and Inscriptions

Perugino's Angels
Similar to heraldry there should be purpose and meaning when writing is introduced into a composition. Neither the writing itself nor the scroll it is written on are natural or inherently beautiful things. This point was lost on many artists who treated the scroll and text ornamentally, often to the point of illegibility as Ruskin elucidates: "All letters are frightful things, and to be endured only upon occasion; that is to say, in places where the sense of the inscription is of more importance than the external ornament. Inscriptions in churches, in rooms, and on pictures are often desirable, but they are not to be considered architectural or pictorial ornaments: they are, on the contrary, obstinate offences to the eye, not to be suffered except when their intellectual office introduces them."

Ribands

Tapeworm
Till now we've considered the scale, appropriateness, in general terms the judicious use of decoration that is not inherently beautiful. Subsequently I'll declare to an outright condemnation. I share Ruskin's view that ribbons, sometimes referred to in an architectural context as ribands, are irredeemably monstrous. They are the flattest, limpest most dead thing introduced into ornament. The closest resemblance to a decorative ribbon in nature is the tapeworm. I have a colleague, an ornamental carver of significant talent, who has produced a number of beautiful works. He also sculpts a lot of ribands. He should stop. They are a sallow stain on an otherwise vibrant portfolio. Honestly, if he receives a commission featuring ribands from an architect he would be better to politely decline or at the very least insist that he be in no way credited or associated with the work.


Stylized Tapeworm
Ruskin's critique is as follows, "Is there anything like ribands in nature? It might be thought that grass and seaweed afforded apologetic types. They do not. There is a wide difference between their structure and that of a riband. They have a skeleton, an anatomy, a central rib, or fibre, or framework of some kind or another, which has a beginning and an end, a root and head, and whose make and strength affect every direction of their motion, and every line of their form. The loosest weed that drifts and waves under the types. heaving of the sea, or hangs heavily on the brown and slippery shore, has a marked strength, structure, elasticity, gradation of substance; its extremities are more finely fibred than its centre, its centre than its root: every fork of its ramification is measured and proportioned; every wave of its languid lines is lovely. It has its allotted size, and place, and function; it is a specific creature. What is there like this in a riband? It has no structure: it is a succession of cut threads all alike; it has no skeleton, no make, no form, no size, no will of its own. You cut it and crush it into what you will. It has no strength, no languor. It cannot fall into a single graceful form. It cannot wave, in the true sense, but only flutter: it cannot bend, in the true sense, but only turn and be wrinkled. It is a vile thing; it spoils all that is near its wretched film of an existence."

Drapery

Apollo and Daphne, Bernini
Like the riband, used in isolation drapery is always ignoble. Unfortunately, it is all too often encountered unceremoniously glued on a blank wall as a decorative swag or littering the urns of every cemetery, desecrating the deceased with a daub of ugliness. However, unlike the riband, drapery finds redemption. Upon the human form it wields the power to convey dynamic forces in motion as well as the static exercise of gravity in repose. Bernini was a master of the former, utilizing drapery to animate his work, Michelangelo the latter heightening the heavy weight of repose. What it lacks in beauty it is capable of conveying in sublimity.



Moses, Michelangelo


The Festoon

The festoon is such a strange, oft displaced creature. Perhaps the gathering of flowers in stone to lay across a sepulchrum in perpetuity bestows both beauty and merit. The question though is really one of architectural appropriateness. It usually appears in the severest of architecture, at a high elevation unable to be truly appreciated, a lopsided crescent gathering soot. I personally feel this at one of my favourite buildings in Paris, Le Panthéon. As Ruskin observed in a similar instance at St. Paul's in London, the awkward "displaced abundance" of the festoon results in the bare wall appearing "poverty stricken", undermining its sublimity.

In Conclusion

I could go on and bore everyone with Ruskin's view of dripstones employed in the Gothic Revival but I'm sure you've had enough. I'll just conclude by saying that I feel Cellini's Perseus and Medusa shown at the outset is one of the greatest nude statues ever conceived. Perhaps you have guessed the monster by now. No, not the head of the gorgon. Rather the true monster is the strap across Perseus' otherwise bare body with the inscription of the sculptor and the date of his work. Oooh Cellini, how could you?

Thankfully he next post in the series will return to a decidedly more positive topic: The Lamp of Life


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Contributed by Patrick Webb