“The Quarry”
John Ruskin illuminates that religion and architecture are entangled: “There is high probability that the Greek received his shaft system from Egypt; but I do not care to keep this earlier derivation in the mind of the reader. It is only necessary that he should be able to refer to a fixed point of origin, when the form of the shaft was first perfected. But it may be incidentally observed, that if the Greeks did indeed receive their Doric from Egypt, then the three families of the earth have each contributed their part to its noblest architecture: and Ham, the servant of the others, furnishes the sustaining or bearing member, the shaft; Japheth the arch; Shem the spiritualisation of both.” The ‘shaft system’ underwrites t the convergence between the Greek and Egyptian civilizations; accordingly, architectural novelties are not nailed to particular localities. Furthermore, ‘Ham, Shem and Japheth’ (who are the Biblical Noah’s sons) are epitomes of the crossing of religion and architecture. The three ratify the spiritualization of architecture through religious furnishings and projects which are alluded to in the Bible.
Ruskin discriminates the ‘Doric and Corinthian orders’: “I have said that the two orders, Doric and Corinthian, are the roots of all European architecture. You have, perhaps, heard of five orders; but there are only two real orders, and there never can be any more until doomsday. On one of these orders the ornament is convex: those are Doric, Norman, and what else you recollect of the kind. On the other the ornament is concave: those are Corinthian, Early English, Decorated, and what else you recollect of that kind. The transitional form, in which the ornamental line is straight, is the centre or root of both.” The ‘European architecture’ can be pigeonholed into either ‘Dorian or Corinthian’ depending on whether it applies the ‘convex or concave’ adornments. This creates the ‘Dorian versus Corinthian’ binary whereby the ‘transitional form’ lies in between the two deviating orders.
Christianity has been the ultimate factor in the advancement of architecture: “And in this state of things came Christianity: seized upon the arch as her own; decorated it, and delighted in it; invented a new Doric capital to replace the spoiled Roman one: and all over the Roman empire set to work, with such materials as were nearest at hand, to express and adorn herself as best she could. This Roman Christian architecture is the exact expression of the Christianity of the time, very fervid and beautiful—but very imperfect; in many respects ignorant, and yet radiant with a strong, childlike light of imagination, which flames up under Constantine.” The ‘Christian architecture’ is an adaptation of the ‘Dorian and Corinthian’ orders. The intent of the ‘Christian architecture’ is to accentuate the spiritual tenets drawn from the Biblical scriptures. Accordingly the architecture epitomizes the sanctity and aptness stressed in the Bible.
The proliferation of paganism rebounds Venice’s deterioration: “This Christian art of the declining empire is divided into two great branches, western and eastern; one centred at Rome, the other at Byzantium, of which the one is the early Christian Romanesque, properly so called, and the other, carried to higher imaginative perfection by Greek workmen, is distinguished from it as Byzantine…both branches may be ranged under the general term of Christian Romanesque, an architecture which had lost the refinement of Pagan art in the degradation of the empire, but which was elevated by Christianity to higher aims, and by the fancy of the Greek workmen endowed with brighter forms.” Amalgamation of pagansitic symbols abridged the trajectories of religion. Consequently, Venice’s mystical limpidness condensed substantively making it unfeasible for it to progress positively. Paganism shattered Venice’s exuberance and grandeur.
“The Virtues of Architecture”
Architecture’s aptitude to speak satisfactorily is not widespread: “because it is not a virtue required in all buildings; there are some which are only for covert or defence, and from which we ask no conversation. Secondly, because there are countless methods of expression, some conventional, some natural: each conventional mode has its own alphabet, which evidently can be no subject of general laws.” The naturalist tactic of speaking compels the deployment of human instincts which could result in idiosyncratic clarifications. Conventionalist exchanges are contingent on the situations of architecture.
Ruskin endorses that approval of architecture should rise above the outlying aspects: “we take pleasure, or should take pleasure, in architectural construction altogether as the manifestation of an admirable human intelligence; it is not the strength, not the size, not the finish of the work which we are to venerate: rocks are always stronger, mountains always larger, all natural objects more finished; but it is the intelligence and resolution of man in overcoming physical difficulty which are to be the source of our pleasure and subject of our praise.” Instead of dwelling on the outward allure; critics ought to focus on the intelligence which a structure personifies. Delighting on the originality of the human input in a construction is a virtuous trait. The workman should be celebrated for overwhelming all impediments to the actualization of the reality of an edifice.
