Plaster Restoration

Image courtesy of Plâtres Vieujot

I must confess, as a plasterer I do not like the work of plaster restoration. Please don't take that to mean that I don't consider it important or a valid aspect of the art. I just have a preference for new work. My reasons are personal and valid for me. For example, in the context of new work I have the ability to reach a high degree of perfection. In restoration work perfection is not usually the goal. Often the substrate has shifted, walls and ceilings are not level. I have found myself obligated to just improve the situation, make it presentable. I find that frustrating. Also, I would say one of the aspects of plaster working I really enjoy is having a hand in the design be it colour and finish, moulding profiles or ornamentation. In restoration all of these decisions have been made a long time ago and are buried under many layers of paint (did I mention how much I hate stripping paint?). Its like all the fun part is done already.

Irrespective of my feelings, I do live in downtown Charleston so the matter of plaster restoration is unavoidable. Not to mention it breaks my heart to see plaster being ripped out to be replaced with drywall or losing some beautiful ornament to be replaced with absolutely nothing. I just finished working on a small project that I would like to share with you all below. I think many will find the process very educational. Before I do that I would like to share just a few general thoughts about the fundamental properties of applied plaster in the context of restoration and conservation.

The technical purpose of traditional plaster, or stucco if you prefer, in the exterior is as a sacrificial coat. It 'sacrifices' itself to protect the substrate, that is to say the building. It is not intended to be preserved. Rather rain erodes it, soluble salts evaporate at the surface, slowly deteriorating it. Better the plaster than the building. Plaster over masonry on the inside might last indefinitely. Plaster over lath is another matter. It has a lifespan. The wood or metal moves with changes in humidity and temperature, the plaster does not. Between these cycles and some inevitable structural shifting eventually the bond of the plaster to the lath will break down, usually between 120 to 200 years in the case of wood lath. Not bad I'd say. Unless there has been water damage the wood lath is good for another 200 years if sometimes the old iron nails need replacing.

Image courtesy of Plâtres Vieujot

One of the challenging situations that occasionally arises is when a lath and plaster wall or ceiling has been enriched with ornament. The plasterwork has failed but you don't want to lose all of that art. I don't blame you one bit! There are a few traditional solutions. If there is access to the back of the lath from an upper floor or attic loose plaster can be secured from below using special types of washers, then new plaster can be added to re-adhere the plaster to the lath in the spots where the keys are cracked or completely broken. What I would strongly discourage is injecting some kind of epoxy or glue to fix the broken plaster to the lath. This is a one time, short term effort that destroys the re-usability of the lath. These proprietary "solutions" also tend to form a vapour barrier that causes other problems as well.

If access is not possible it is often possible to save much of the ornament by simply cutting it out, setting it aside to be re-affixed once the surface has been replastered. There are other instances where there is partial water or fire damage so that some of the ornament is lost. This is a similar scenario to my recent project where a room was being shortened in a remodel of an older home in downtown Charleston. I was asked to consult on an highly enriched cornice to see if it could be removed from the wall that was to be demolished. The cornice was so large and so well plastered to the wall that is was practically impossible to remove it without destroying the pieces. Below is a description of the traditional solution that we offered that worked quite well.

A Small Plaster Restoration

Working along with students and alumni from the trowel trades program of The American College of the Building Arts, we took on the restoration of a highly enriched Gothic Revival plaster cornice installed in an early 20th century home downtown Charleston. 

1) Stripping Paint 

We identigy the pattern repeat and painstakingly remove scores of paint layers (did I mention how much I hate stripping paint?) Usually I prefer to use an alkali paste to strip paint, especially if it is a large wall. However, it is a challenge to use on relieved ornamentation. In this case, having a small surface area to cover we utilized a chemical stripper.

 

 2) Framing

We have to create and affix a plywood frame to enclose the pattern, using clay to seal the ends.

3) Rubber

The rubber we chose is a two part urethane on the softer side. We alternate the colours beige and blue between layers so we can gauge coverage and depth, starting off thin to get in all the nooks and crannies, adding thickener to quickly build on the final passes. It is important to have a minimum of 1/4" thickness and create relief angles so that the plaster applied in the next step does not lock into the rubber and get stuck.

 
4) Jacket Mould

The rubber captures the pattern; however, it is very flexible and will not keep the form. Several layers of gypsum plaster are applied to the back of the rubber. These are reinforced with fibreglass and hessian cloth to increase tensile strength and reduce weight. It has to be thick enough to be strong, yet you must be careful not to make it too thick or you'll never get it off! The plaster sets very quickly forming a rigid 'jacket' also known as a mother mould that will keep the rubber in its original position.

 

5) Casting

The moulds are removed and brought back immediately to the college workshop, placed on a bed of sand to reduce deformation. After drying over the weekend we can use the negative mould to generate new plaster positives, our cornice pieces. Again, to reduce weight and enhance tensile strength, fibreglass veil is embedded, a technique called GFRG or Glass Fibre Reinforced Gypsum.

5) Crating

The plaster only takes a few minutes to set. The process of setting puts a lot of internal stress on the moulding. We must find a way to prevent them from deforming. Since we need a safe way to transport them back to the site we build wood frames and mechanically attach the mouldings to the frames.

6) Affixing

Completion in view, the next task is to affix the plaster mouldings to plaster with, you guessed it, plaster! We do use some temporary plywood blocking to align our pieces and help support our pieces from below. Also, a few galvanized screws are used at the top to secure the cornice until the plaster has set. It is optional to remove them later. We're in a seismic zone so I'm going to leave them in. 

7) Pointing

The final step is to join all of our pieces with each other and to the existing moulding. This is done with plaster. Because plaster sets quickly we mix a little bit of rabbit skin size as a retarder in our water to give us more time to work. A bit of sanding in spots and its ready to be primed and painted.

Everybody was really happy. The contractor that he could find folks with skills to do the work (He's already given us a nice recommendation for a project we'll tackle in January), the owner who was afraid they might lose the cornice or have it missing on one wall, and the sophomore students who got to learn an advanced skill during their summer internship. A special thanks to our alumnus Michael Lauer who was the plaster contractor for this job. I recommend giving his website a look: http://www.michaellauerstudios.com/

Contributed by Patrick Webb

The Lamp of Life

Humans are very attuned to life. For example, we won't easily mistake something dead for something alive. We sense degrees of life. Youth has more vitality than old age. Warmth than cold. Spring than winter. The jungle or temperate forest feels more alive to us than the desert or frozen tundra. In fact, we constantly calculate either consciously or intuitively how alive our environments are, how capable they are for engendering more life.

In our own acts of creation, although we can not animate, we can impress our intellectual vigour, an instinctive vivaciousness in what we make. Contrariwise, we might also create stillborn objects, sterile, cold, unfeeling. Intelligible they may be yet insensible, dead things. What we create and how we go about those activities can have a most personal effect upon us, bringing us joy, enlivening our souls or draining us dry, oppressing our spirit.

John Ruskin had some insightful things to say on this subject in regards to architecture. However, writing at the dawn of the industrial age, I would prefer to focus on his rich commentary regarding machined ornament, its effect on the craftsman and society at large. This is quite germane to our time with the increasing sophistication of Digital Sculpting software, 3D printing, CNC machining, robotic automation and especially AI systems under development that will not only produce objects but actually intend to replace people in designing art and architecture. Although most of my comments relate to stone carving, the principles are applicable to plaster, wood carving, glass, iron and a number of other traditional mediums.

Man as Machine

I engaged recently in an online debate on this subject of machined ornamentation with a self-proclaimed master stone carver. He excitedly described his process. First, he hires out his designs to a 3D graphics specialist digitally sculpting the design in a software program called ZBrush. Next, CNC machining grinds the stone to within 1 mm from the final surface. Finally, in his own words his role is "just a bit of cleanup, sanding and honing." He was so proud of his work, posting images of a recently completed fountain with a fair bit of ornamental detail. Yet I saw immediately something deeply disturbing about his fountain, the regularity of it rendered it completely cold and lifeless. Ruskin was all too familiar with this type of work: "They had rather not have ornament at all, than see it ill cut deadly cut, that is. I cannot too often repeat, it is not coarse cutting, it is not blunt cutting, that is necessarily bad; but it is cold cutting the look of equal trouble everywhere the smooth, diffused tranquillity of heartless pains the regularity of a plough in a level field. The chill is more likely, indeed, to show itself in finished work than in any other men cool and tire as they complete: and if completeness is thought to be vested in polish, and to be attainable by help of sand paper, we may as well give the work to the engine lathe at once."

This same "stone carver" proceeded to justify his process on that of 19th century precedent by which time the former art of stone carving had been broken down into a strict division of labour. Certain labourers specialised in rough out, others did the measuring and pointing. Various specialists might carve the drapery, rosaries, lace, flowers, etc.; whereas a master sculptor would do the faces and hands, leaving more labourers to sand and polish. In the case of our 21st century stone carver, his practise eliminates most of the labour he considers brutish, invaluable toil, ostensibly leaving time for the art. Yet, was the 19th century process the model of vitality, life and excellence to emulate or evolve from? Or perhaps was there within the sign of a sick, dying art? 

Formerly, one would apprentice for years under a master gaining a deep understanding of flatness, roughing out, taking a design to completion without any need for sanding or honing at all in fact. This process produced journeymen carvers (any one of which might be considered masters today) with perhaps one among a dozen journeymen innately possessing the transcendental gifts to achieve the position of a master himself. By contrast, the factory system the 19th century master worked under left little opportunity to pass on a complete understanding of the art and generate true masters for a subsequent generation. This was Ruskin's century and he records: "Handwork might always be known from machine-work; observing, however, at the same time, that it was possible for men to turn themselves into machines, and to reduce their labour to the machine level; but so long as men work as men putting their heart into what they do, and doing their best, it matters not how bad workmen they may be, there will be that in the handling which is above all price: it will be plainly seen that some places have been delighted in more than others that there have been a pause, and a care about them; and then there will come careless bits, and fast bits; and here the chisel will have struck hard, and there lightly, and anon timidly."

Stone Carving students at The American College of the Building Arts

Poetry

'Gebs', traditional plaster carving

"If the man's mind as well as his heart went with his work, all this will be in the right places, and each part will set off the other; and the effect of the whole, as compared with the same design cut by a machine or a lifeless hand, will be like that of poetry well read and deeply felt to that of the same verses jangled by rote. There are many to whom the difference is imperceptible; but to those who love poetry it is everything -  they had rather not hear it at all, than hear it ill read; and to those who love Architecture, the life and accent of the hand are everything."

I spent a few weeks some years ago in Marrakech, Morocco studying artisan plaster manufacturing and application. Where I stayed was practically a palace, a Riad in the centre of town with an inner courtyard and fountain, intricately tiled 'zellige' walls and floors. Towards the end of the visit, our concierge invited me and my colleagues to her family's home to share a meal. Humble by contrast, earthen walls and floors, the courtyard exposed to the nite sky above. Yet as she rolled out the family hand woven carpets and offered us mint tea ceremoniously poured from the crafted silversmith's pot into the gold filigreed hand made glasses I began to inwardly confess my poverty as well as admiration for how everything I had seen during my stay: the garments people wore, the filigreed glasses they drank from, the pottery they ate off of, the carpets, everyday objects beyond count...everything was hand made and beautiful. Even the poorest among them, if they possessed anything, it was beautiful as there were little industrially produced goods available. I hold no illusions of Marrakech as an utopian society but it is a vibrant, living culture whose joy is so evident, publicly shared on a daily basis.

Social Responsibility

The developed world now lives in a predominantly Modernist built environment. Yet it was not Modernists that led the initial abandonment of craft. Much of the blame is borne on the shoulders of 19th century Traditional architects who weakly compromised the pursuit of beauty for the cheap imitation that industry could provide. Still today architects fall into 4 general groups in order of prevalence:

1. Modernists (traditional or otherwise) who wholly, unapologetically embrace the machine aesthetic
2. Architects who personally appreciate craft yet willfully specify in favour of industry because of weakness, financial gain or both and in so doing violate their conscience. These often train their energies on denying responsibility, justifying their actions and condemning those who expose them for the damage they do to society
3. Architects who are sadly untalented, blind, unqualified for their practise, who can't see the difference between craft and the products of industry
4. Architects who support authenticity, beauty and craft without compromise, on moral and aesthetic grounds 

"I believe the right question to ask, respecting all ornament, is simply this: Was it done with enjoyment - was the carver happy while he was about it?" - Ruskin

I concur this a fair question to be asked. After all if we admit the purpose of decoration is to give pleasure to someone who must USE a thing, why do feel the right to deny pleasure to someone we obligate to MAKE such decoration? Architecture is after all an amazing human activity that takes up more energy and resources than any other. Do not artists and architects working together share the responsibility to create a better society, one that gives joy and meaning to work, that engenders more life? Are We the People to foregoe our inalienable moral right as penned by Thomas Jefferson for "Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness"?

Ruskin ends his essay with a similar appeal for our humanity: "There is dreaming enough, and earthiness enough, and sensuality enough in human existence, without our turning the few glowing moments of it into mechanism; and since our life must at the best be but a vapour that appears for a little time and then vanishes away, let it at least appear as a cloud in the height of Heaven, not as the thick darkness that broods over the blast of the Furnace, and rolling of the Wheel"

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Contributed by Patrick Webb

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

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.

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

An Architectural Utopia

2001: A Space Odyssey

Utopia is a 16th century literary invention derived from the Greek οὐ, "not" and τόπος, "place". Owing to an homophonic anomaly most folks think 'Utopia' refers to a 'good place'. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, that would be an 'Eutopia'. An Utopia in point of fact is "no place" at all. I contend that we are fast approaching a global architectural Utopia, a built environment of "no place" and "no one".

An Aesthetic Cleansing

I just cringe when I hear a designer or architect say they are after a 'clean' look. What does a 'clean' look mean anyway? After all I think very few of us would prefer a 'dirty, unclean' look! 'Clean' is code for a sparse, minimalist design bereft of craft, cleansed of ornament, devoid of the polluting evidence of the human touch. A product of industry, possible only with the precision of the machine. We can practically place a date for when this pogrom against craftmanship began in earnest, January 21st 1910, with Adolph Loos' infamous lecture "Ornament and Crime". Ornament and craft were condemned as unevolved and degenerate relics of a primitive past. A self-proclaimed liberator of the craftsman, Adolf claimed their employ by the privileged was abusive and immoral. A progressive society would free them of their toil:

"We have out-grown ornament, we have struggled through to a state without ornament. Behold, the time is at hand, fulfilment awaits us. Soon the streets of the cities will glow like white walls! Like Zion, the Holy City, the capital of heaven. It is then that fulfilment will have come.”  - Adolf Loos

The foretold aesthetic cleansing arrived, carried to its logical fulfillment. The former craftsman freed from his toil, liberated from his art could now slave as a laborer in the factories supplying the materials of industry or assembling them as a "mechanic" in the field.

A School, a Style, and the Rise of the Machine for Living

Bauhaus Dormitory

In 1919 a "House of Building" or Bauhaus was established in Germany putting Adolph Loos' ideas into practical application. Surprisingly, coursework included fine arts and several years of workshop training under the direction of craftsmen and artists. However, the emphasis was technological, the preparation of designs for mass production by industry, canonized by the adopted slogan of the Bauhaus, "Art into Industry". Industrial efficiency demanded a reductive approach, an extreme simplification and unification of design that realized the elimination of moulding and ornament.

The early efforts of the Bauhaus laid the grounds for an "International Style" unveiled in 1932 at the Museum for Modern Art in Manhattan, NY. What made the this style "international"? It certainly did not embrace the millennia of accumulated cultural traditions of many nations and peoples from across the globe. Commonly held among those various humanistic traditions, man had always been held as the subject of architectural design, the building was to be the objective reality, an outward expression reflecting his inner, spiritual nature. In stark contrast, the International Style enforced the complete extinguishment of any lingering artifacts of  human culture, employing a complete reversal of the traditional thought process of design. The new doctrine dictated that "Form" was to follow only practical "Functions". The building and the attendant practical efficiencies of construction usurped the position of subject, placing people as just one amongst many objects such as chairs, toilets, stairs etc. populating the structure. The International Style might have been more appropriately called the Extranational Style, it reflected an aesthetic beyond the cultural influence of any nation or culture. It was the first step towards a new architecture, a Utopian architecture of "no place" in particular.

Drywall Factory

If the International Style achieved an architecture of "no place", several of its visionaries would envision that the built environment of the future would likewise be an architecture of "no one". Prominent leader of the movement, Le Corbusier, declared the house the "Machine for Living". The military industrial complex in place after World War II quickly adapted itself to the mass production of industrialized construction components. Traditional, simple building assemblies, adapted to local environmental conditions, often furnished and always constructed by local craftsmen were rapidly supplanted by complex, standardized cavity wall building assemblies wholly dependent on mechanical systems designed by engineers. The establishment of international building codes would ensure that those engineered building systems were everywhere to stay.

Progress and Propaganda, The Freedom of Limited Choice

Proposed Clemson Architectural Center
Charleston, SC

There is the prevailing opinion that contemporary architecture is progressive, at least among architects who have been indoctrinated in this philosophy. Examples of progress take many forms: embracing new materials, "green, sustainable" technologies and pursuing bold, unprecedented designs. This is epitomized by the American Institute of Architects annual Progressive Architecture Award. The architectural community pats itself on the back for specifying multimillion dollar complexes utilizing high-embodied energy materials of glass, concrete and metal alloys wholly dependent on mechanical systems burning fossil fuels to function, life expectancy unknown. The architects designing these projects are "International", neither educating themselves locally nor maintaining a practice locally, nor are the highly engineered proprietary building systems they specify locally furnished. Instead, they impose a signature style, free of cultural influence, independent of craft that can be plugged into any major city: New York, London, Beijing, Dubai or ceremoniously dumped in the historic districts of traditional cities such as Rome, Kyoto or Charleston. The envisioned "Utopia" has quickly morphed into a "Dystopic" reality, an alien, uncultured, craftless built environment of "no place" in particular.

Tianjin EcoCity Ecology Museum. Courtesy Steven Holl Architects

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Contributed by Patrick Webb 

Escayola

Foto por Walter Cipriani

Se ha creado la más alta expresión del arte del yesero, perdido y redescubierto. Sin embargo, durante los dos últimos milenios Escayola nunca ha dejado de fascinar ni perder su misterio.

Mitad escultura, mitad ciencia, el proceso sofisticado que da a luz Escayola exige la mente enfocada y la precisión de un químico, las manos de un yesero experimentado y el ojo sutil y sensible de un artista.

Historia

Escayola es elaborado a partir de una secuencia cuidadosamente programada para teñir, para mezclar y para organizar los yesos de imitar el mármol. Los arqueólogos han descubierto que los romanos y los egipcios emplearon métodos, desde hace mucho tiempo olvidado, para imitar el mármol en yeso. Sin embargo, fue en el siglo 16, durante el Renacimiento italiano que las recetas contemporáneas de escayola fueron concebidos y perfeccionados para efectuar complicadas incrustaciones en las superficies de los muebles.

A principios del renacimiento muchos mármoles deseados eran raras o se han agotado. Escayola podría imitar esas mármoles, así como crear colores y patrones que no existían en la naturaleza. El uso de Escayola pronto se expandió a los ornamentos moldeados, fustes de columnas y hasta paredes enteras, un proceso que llegó a ser conocido como Estuco Marmo.

El uso de Estuco Marmo expandió por toda Europa continental y finalmente a Gran Bretaña en el siglo 18. Usos destacados de estuco marmo en Inglaterra incluyen columnas y pilastras en el Palacio de Buckingham y la Casa Syon por Robert Adam. Un avance significativo en la tecnología de yeso se logró a mediados del siglo 19 con el advenimiento de Keen's cement. Keen's prepararon el terreno para un nuevo método para la producción de Escayola llamado Marezzo, conocido en los Estados Unidos como Escayola Americana  debido a su rápida aceptación y el uso prominente de mediados del siglo 18 hasta la gran depresión.

Hay innumerables recetas, en todos los casos propietarias, para los ingredientes y la mezcla de Escayola. Vamos a tratar de sacar la cortina de misterio, al menos parcialmente, con una explicación básica de la fabricación Escayola.

Fabricación

Escayola tradicional se puede hacer in situ o en un banco. El trabajo realizado in situ requiere varias precauciones en la preparación del sustrato. En todos los casos, el ambiente de trabajo debe estar limpio, seco y cálido.

Yeso de París finamente molido se utiliza como el ingrediente principal. Pegamento de la piel animal, rico en colágeno, como de conejo o cola de pescado se prepara el día de la fabricación para retardar el yeso y fortalecer el trabajo. Pigmentos minerales secos pueden ser emulsionados en el líquido o mezclados directamente con el yeso seco o incluso introducirse directamente en la masa en función de efecto deseado. Los ingredientes opcionales incluyen yeso o cal molido como material de carga, el aceite de linaza para complementar el pegamento como retardador y para ayudar la manejabilidad, y los pedazos de mármol para ofrecer efectos decorativos.

Al igual que un panadero que maneja la harina, la levadura y el agua, el artesano amasa el yeso de París y el agua colada a la consistencia de una masa firme. Esto se logra mediante la formación de un anillo de yeso seco que rodea a un "castillo" central de yeso. El "foso" se llena con agua colada y el proceso de cortar y amasar comienza.

A través de una serie de cortes, la adición de pigmentos, doblar y amasar, la masa se ​​coloca a un lado como grandes bolas divididas con relación a que logren el resultado deseado: una imitación del mármol verdadero o una creación imaginaria.  Según el resultado deseado, suspensiones de colores y otras preparaciones se reservan para efectos decorativos. Gran parte de la artesanía se encuentra en un proceso de ingeniería inversa mental. Hay que concebir el resultado deseado, tener todos los materiales a la mano y tomar sistemáticamente medidas para lograr el efecto.

Típicamente, el yeso se applica hasta 13 a 16 mm de espesor, dejando 3 mm para el corte de la superficie. Una vez que el material ha alcanzado una fija inicial puede ser afeitado con una herramienta de corte apropiado, tal como un Berthelet Francés, eliminando el exceso de 3 mm a realizar una superficie plana. En este momento el material debe ser todavía maleable y puede dejarse curar como un panel plano. Alternativamente, rebanadas de escayola se pueden presionar en un molde o directamente sobre un sustrato de yeso rayado in situ. Para el trabajo ornamental tales como balaustres, urnas y fustes de columnas, la Escayola se puede girar en un torno.

Una vez que la Escayola se ha permitido para fijar y secar naturalmente el pulido puede comenzar. Tradicionalmente, después de cortar la Escayola, piedra de piedra pómez natural y esponjas húmedas se utilizan para suavizar el trabajo.

El alisado y pulido final históricamente se logró con Agua de Ayr, una piedra natural de Escocia reconocido principalmente como una piedra de afilar para pulir peluquero navajas. Técnicas de pulido modernas llegan a un resultado similar con cada vez más fino papel de lija mojado / seco. La superficie acabada puede ser frotado con aceite de linaza para aumentar el brillo, la dureza y añadir una medida de protección contra las manchas. 

Marezzo o la técnica de "American escayola", fue una verdadera innovación que siguió una metodología distinta. No se requiere un corte de la superficie debido a que el veteado y la coloración se realiza en la cara del molde en una capa fina. Los paneles planos se realizan sobre una placa de vidrio gruesa así que los patrones creados pueden ser vistos desde abajo.

La mezcla de yeso Marezzo se basa en el Keen's cement, un cemento de yeso de lento ajuste que no requiere el uso de retardadores o endurecedores. Hilos de seda se utilizan para vetear y tintes minerales secos pueden ser utilizados para proporcionar color.

Conclusión

Escayola ha disfrutado de una rica historia que adornan muchas de las obras más prestigiosas de Europa, de la arquitectura del Renacimiento hasta el período neoclásico. Asimismo, en los Estados Unidos Marezzo ocupó un lugar destacado en muchas de nuestras obras maestras arquitectónicas del siglo 19 y todavía es de admirar en las grandes entradas de las casas estatales, estaciones de tren y grandes hoteles por todo el país. 


Este artículo fue escrito por Patrick Webb y Sloan Houser