Transformations of the Classical Models in American Architecture and their

Public Reception

It is not just the circumstances in which this architecture was built that speak against a tight linking of democracy to these Greek-inspired forms. It is also the contemporary assessment of the phenomenon that points to another direction, and, as we will soon see, the buildings themselves.

Some of the buildings, especially the earliest ones, look, at first sight, very much like those you would find in England and Continental Europe: close copies of ancient classical architecture – for instance, William Strickland’s remake of the Parthenon (1819–24, Philadelphia, Figure 3.6).²⁷ Even these strict copies, however, were seen in a different light by contemporary behold-ers: light not only in a metaphorical sense, but also in its literal meaning. It is Philip Hone, a typical entrepreneur of the time, politician and amateur in the field of architecture and the arts, who gives us an assessment of this building on 14 February 1838: ²⁸

The portico of this glorious edifice, the sight of which always repays me for com-ing to Philadelphia, appeared more beautiful to me this evencom-ing than usual, from the effect of the gas-light. Each of the fluted columns had a jet of light from the inner side so placed as not to be seen from the street, but casting a strong light upon the front of the building, the softness of which, with its flickering from the wind, produced an effect strikingly beautiful.

Hone’s view is a contemporary one, but these lights still exist and give

“physical” proof of his impression. The basic concept of Greek temple-building is totally inverted by this. Whereas the massive walls of the cella of ancient Greek temples appeared as something compact and dark behind the shining columns, here the core building shines like a jewel behind the darker fence of the columns. The columns still appear important, but more dominant is the actual building itself, which, after all, in this case was “The Second Bank of the United States,” so not an empty monument but a build-ing intended for actual use.²⁹

27 Kennedy 1989, pp. 114–5, 194–5; Tournikiotis 1994, p. 213; Schneider and Höcker 2001, pp. 29–32; Schneider 2003, pp. 158–61.

28 Quoted by Hamlin 1942, p. 78 n. 19.

29 The fruitfulness of travels in which some elements of the facts hold their integrity and oth-ers are qualified or even subverted can be found also in Ramsden’s account of Calhoun’s rat behaviours and in Schell’s account of the alpha-male facts in romance fiction, both this volume.

This radical inversion of an otherwise minutely copied ancient model is not an isolated case. Similar lighting is reported of the Old Custom House at Erie, PA,³⁰ of 1839 and can still be seen at Bethel United Methodist Church at Charleston, SC,³¹ (1852–53). Also once a noble bank – even with living quar-ters to house the president of the United States when he visited this place – was the now First Church of Christ Scientist at Natchez, MS,³² erected in 1833 Figure 3.6. Philadelphia, PA. Second Bank of the United States. View with authentic gas lights.

From: Old postcard, source unknown.

30 Now Erie Art Museum: Muller 1997.

31 Regarding the front elevation, an astute copy of the Athena and Hephaistos temple, the so-called Theseion at the Agora of Athens: Schneider 2003, pp. 159–60; Foster 2005.

32 Kennedy 1989, pp. 116–7; Schneider 2003, pp. 160–1.

as a fine copy of the already mentioned Ilissos Temple at Athens (Figure 3.5);

the light behind the columns is again authentic. No less impressive is the appearance of the Actor’s Theatre at Louisville, KY,³³ of 1835–37 (Figure 3.7), again originally a bank designed by James H. Dakin. These examples reveal Figure 3.7. Louisville, KY. Actor’s Theatre, formerly a bank. Architect: James H. Dakin.

1835/37.

From: L. Schneider 2003, p. 161 fig. 18.

33 Scully 1973, pp. 26–40; Smith 1976, p. 350; Smith 1981, pp. 284–5; Kennedy 1989, p. 372;

Schneider 2003, p. 161. Even neoclassical buildings of the twentieth century, such as Henry Bacon’s Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. (1913–22), continue this American tradition.

not only a new attitude towards architecture quite contrary to that found in Greek antiquity, but also a new characteristic of Greek-inspired American architecture itself, through which the new and truly sovereign American way of dealing with the phenomenon “Greek classical” manifests itself.

Not just by gas lights, but by whole rows of large windows – often dou-ble-storey and complemented by spacious doors – American architects converted Greek temple architecture into something completely new: into buildings that seem to wear Greek orders like clothing. The core building never hides behind the columns. The attitude we found reflected by the arti-ficial lighting is also reflected in the buildings themselves.

This, of course, is not just a question of aesthetics. It is the vital functions of the buildings, their uses in life that were proudly shown to a public: proudly with respect to any beholder and proudly with respect to the ancient models.

Like jewels, the inner cores of the buildings glow behind rows of Greek col-umns. It is not just this view from the outside-in that is important and under-scores the proud display of function, but also the view from the inside-out.

The beholder looks through the ancient columns to the present beyond.

Most popular in American Greek revival was the design of the Ionic front of a classical fifth-century temple near the Ilissos River at Athens, as drawn by Stuart and Revett (Figure 3.5) and reprinted in various nineteenth-cen-tury American books on architecture. The columns of this since-destroyed little temple were employed for instance as a model for a villa of around 1850 at Eutaw, AL,³⁴ (Figure 3.8) to “clad” the core building and to support not only the roof but also a surrounding balcony, attached in a most un-classical manner directly to the shafts of the columns; the roof again is here crowned by a little belvedere that imitates the main structure on a smaller scale. The same applies to Neill-Cochran House at Austin, TX,³⁵ (Figure 3.9), where again the rows of beautiful large windows on both storeys behind the clas-sical Ionic order are to be noticed. Another fine example is Wilcox-Cutts House of 1843 in Orwell, VT,³⁶ (Figure 3.10); this time, there are five col-umns – gently abandoning classical rules of Ionic order in favour of attaining a colonnade that does not obscure the view from the large windows behind.

A similar care for the building itself and pride in what is going on inside is shown in public American architecture. Nashville’s Tennessee State Capitol³⁷

34 Kennedy 1989, p. 241; Schneider 2003, pp. 162–3.

35 Erected during the same years: Smith 1981, pp. 635–6; Kennedy 1989, p. 242; Schneider 2003 p. 164.

36 Pierson 1976, p. 449; Kennedy 1989, p. 35; Schneider 2003, p. 162.

37 Hitchcock and Seale 1976, p. 119; Hudson and Ballard 1989, pp. 314–5; Schneider and Höcker 2001, p. 27; Schneider 2003, p. 165.

of 1845–59 (Figure 3.11), designed by William Strickland – the architect of the Second Bank of the United States noted previously – presents an enlarged version of the main front of the Erechtheion on the Acropolis with its char-acteristic capitals (Figure 3.12), but now with eight instead of six columns, and once more there appear blinking rows of windows behind the colon-nade. On top of the roof – above a dome not visible from the exterior – is placed a minute copy of Lysicrates Monument at Athens (again taken from Stuart and Revett’s book).

The same inverted use of the classical Erechtheion is found also in many private buildings of the time.³⁸ Even in cases where the classical order was accurately copied in toto, the same fundamental inversion of the classical concept is to be noticed³⁹ – all the more so when the classical

38 Madewood Plantation House at Bayou Lafourche near Napoleonville, LA, erected in 1846–8; architect, Henry Howard. Smith 1981, pp. 313–4; Kennedy 1989, p. 185. Avery Downer House at Granville, OH, 1842, by Minard Lafever. Kennedy 1989, p. 323.

39 Judge Robert Wilson House of 1843 at Ann Arbor, MI: Kennedy 1989 p. 235; Schneider 2003, pp. 162–3, 166.

Figure 3.8. Eutaw, AL. Kirkwood or H.A. Kirksey House. c. 1850.

From: Photo Lambert Schneider.

models were changed in form and proportion (Figure 3.13)⁴⁰: That the builders and architects of the antebellum time were not afraid to frivo-lously install five (!) columns when otherwise copying their model quite accurately is due to the same new and distinctly American approach to the classical (Figure 3.14).⁴¹ Exactly the same features are to be found in the American use of the Doric order: houses with temple porticoes but proudly presenting the inner building itself with spacious doors and windows (Figure 3.15).⁴²

Once aware of this phenomenon, it is worth having a second look at Strickland’s Parthenon remake, whereupon one is able to see it with some-what different eyes. This building originally had not one, but five large doors Figure 3.9. Austin, TX. Neill-Cochran House (governor’s mansion). Architect: Abner Cook. 1853/55.

From: R. G. Kennedy, Greek Revival America (Stuart Tabori & Chung, New York 1989), p. 242. © Jack Kotz.

40 The front of the Erechtheion on the Acropolis, for instance, reappearing at Clifton Place, Mount Pleasant, TE (1839). Kennedy 1989, p. 50.

41 Fitch-Gorham-Brooks House in Marshall, MI, of 1840. Kennedy 1989, p. 48.

42 House in Central Massachusetts, designed by Elias Carter. Kennedy 1989, p. 245.

William Risley House of c. 1837 at Fredonia, NY. Kennedy 1989, pp. 238–9; Schneider 2003, pp. 162–3.

and as many square windows above, which were only later closed for rea-sons of structural security. So even this rather astute copy of the Parthenon front decidedly remodels the original concept.

One of the most ingenious and daring nineteenth-century American re-uses of classical models was the enlarging of the design of the small Athenian theatre-monument of Thrasyllos⁴³ (Figure 3.16) to a structure that could be adapted not only to private villas but also to large-scale struc-tures, such as warehouses and hotels. See the simple ancient Greek model in the drawing of Stuart and Revett, and what American architects like James Gallier,⁴⁴ James Dakin⁴⁵ and, above all, Alexander Jackson Davis⁴⁶ made of it: structures with pillars that can be repeated endlessly, always exposing a wide open core building, again with the effect of light described before.⁴⁷

43 Travlos 1971, pp. 562–5.

44 Gallier 1833; Gallier 1973.

45 Scully 1973.

46 Peck 1992.

47 Ashland-Belle-Helene near Napoleonville, LA, of 1841 by James Gallier. Pierson 1976, p.

456; Smith 1981, pp. 312–3; Kennedy 1989, p. 159; Schneider 2003, pp. 169–70. Belle Meade at Nashville, TE, of 1853–4; architect, William Giles Harding. Hudson and Ballard 1989, Figure 3.10. Orwell, VT. Wilcock Cutts House. Architect: Thomas Dake. Alteration to present appearance 1843.

From: R. G. Kennedy, Greek Revival America (Stuart Tabori & Chung, New York 1989), p. 35 upper side. © John M. Hall Photographs.

The most lavish specimens of this Pillar Order derived from the Thrasyllos Monument are to be found in A. L. Davis’s studies for various projects:⁴⁸ the huge Astor Hotel in New York of c. 1830 or the New York Commercial Exchange, projected in 1862.

Figure 3.11. Nashville, TN. State Capitol. Architect: William Strickland. 1845/59.

From: Photo Lambert Schneider.

pp. 317–19; Schneider 2003, p. 170. Bocage Plantation (Houmas House) near Burnside, LA: again with doors, windows and a balcony directly attached to the pillars, a concept simi-larly applied to temple-type houses too. Smith 1976, p. 570; Schneider 2003, pp. 169–70.

48 Peck 1992; Schneider 2003, pp. 169–70.

Figure 3.12. The Erechtheion on the Acropolis of Athens. Late fifth century bc. Front elevation.

From: L. D. Caskey et al., The Erechtheum (Cambridge Mass. 1927).

Figure 3.13. Madewood-Plantation-House at Bayou Lafourche near Napoleonville, LA.

Architect: Henry Howard. 1846–48.

From: Photo Lambert Schneider.

It is again Philip Hone who has left us a vivid portrayal of the aesthetic and practical functioning of this peculiar type of classical adaptation. In his diary of September 1, 1835,⁴⁹ he writes about such a building:

We had last night at the pavilion a farewell hop in the dining room, at which the girls enjoyed themselves very much. At eleven o’clock, I retired to my room, lighted a cigar, and seated myself at the front window. The view was unspeakably grand. The broad red moon … threw a solemn light over the unruffled face of the ocean, and the lofty pillars of the noble … building, breaking the silver streams of light into dark gloomy shadows, gave the edifice the appearance of some relic of classic antiquity.

This it did not quite do, but “some relic” is quite to the point.

Figure 3.14. Marshall, MI. Fitch-Gorham-Brooks House. c.1840.

From: Photo Lambert Schneider.

49 In fact, he is referring to the Rockaway pavilion designed by Town & Davis and Dakin: Nevins 1927, p. 74.

The attitude toward classical models expressed in this architecture and its evaluations sometimes included connoisseurship but did not at all require scientific archaeology, which might have guaranteed a safe travel of ancient facts into modern times. In fact, American builders and archi-tects did not travel to Greece, and with rare exceptions the same applied to their patrons. They simply copied from the same few books – most often Stuart and Revett – reproduced and altered these examples in their own books and then just built: usually in wood and executed not by trained and learned architects but by carpenter builders.⁵⁰ Another phenomenon, in its own way quite convincing, is a kind of grafting of different pieces onto others, resulting in a new creature – and one that might even have enchanted the ancient Greeks were they not so constrained by traditional building doctrines: Minard Lafever’s leaf-capital (Figure 3.17), which was very popular, especially in the Southern states, is one such example.

His publication of 1839,⁵¹ in which he presented this creation, has the

50 Kennedy 1989. For exceptions see: Meyer Reinhold 1984, pp. 256–79.

51 Lafever 1839. Lafever’s anti-Roman and pro-Greek attitude is well documented by his statements in Lafever 1852.

Figure 3.15. House in central Massachusetts. Architect: Elias Carter.

From: Photo Lambert Schneider.

telling title: “The Beauties of Modern Architecture…”. He proceeded as if following instructions in a cookbook: Take from Stuart and Revett the lower half of the Corinthian capital of Lysicrates Monument at Athens⁵² Figure 3.16. Theatre monument on the south slope of Athenian Acropolis. 320/19 bc.

As depicted by Stuart and Revett (1762).

From: Stuart & Revett 1762.

52 Stuart and Revett 1762–1794, vol. I, chap. IV pl. VI.

with all its characteristic leaves and blossoms (Figure 3.18), then without hesitation add the upper half of a capital from another monument, the

“Tower of the Winds,”⁵³ found in the same neighbourhood in Athens and

53 Horologium of Andronikos: Travlos 1971, pp. 281–8.

Figure 3.17. American “Greek” leaf-capital after Lafever (1839).

From: Lafever 1839.

Figure 3.18. Corinthian capital of Lysicrates Monument at Athens (335/34 bc) by Stuart and Revett.

From: Stuart & Revett 1762.

also published by Stuart and Revett⁵⁴ (Figure 3.19). This second element, however, was not strictly copied but infused with life, its leaves becoming more juicy and plant-like. Playfully dealing with historical models, these Figure 3.19. Leaf-capital of the “Tower of the Winds” at Athens. First century bc.

From: Stuart & Revett 1762.

54 Stuart and Revett 1762–1794, vol. I (1762), chap. III, pl. VII.

variations were compatible with other newly created capital forms, such as the American Tobacco and the American Corn Order.⁵⁵

In accordance, Lafever explained his capital in the following words⁵⁶: “This is a design composed of antique specimens, and reduced to accurate proportions; with a view to render it acceptable in many places, instead of the standard orders. …In many situations this design will be preferable to those generally in use.” And, as a comment on his Erechtheion-capital variation shown in the same book, he wrote: “This example has neither the proportions nor general features of the antique Ionic order, nor is it pretended that it is in general equal to it; but it is hoped that it may not be … inferior.”⁵⁷