From Lisa Schmitt Bergman,
July, 2001
This was one of the very few responses that we received upon calling
for a discussion forum on the issue of the future direction for the architecture program
at Notre Dame.
Caro Poliphilo,
When the School
of Architecture at Notre Dame renovated and expanded Bond Hall, they placed the
quote from the opening of Book One of Vitruvius on the new west wall:
Builders who
have aimed at acquiring manual skill without scholarship have never been able
to reach a position of authority to correspond to their pains,
While those
who relied only upon theories and scholarship were obviously hunting the
shadow, not the substance.
But those who
have a thorough knowledge of both, like men armed at all points, have the
sooner attained their object and carried authority with them.
It seems their
choice of placement, hanging precariously over the exedra which holds the
dumpsters, was unintentionally symbolic.
Certainly the future of Classical Architecture and its Athens at Notre
Dame hangs in the balance at all times, particularly when the Chairmanship
changes hands. But I am referring to a
different threat to Classical Architecture than the assault of modernity: I am referring to the wolves that lie
within.
The Scions of
Classical Architecture have claimed for years that “Classicism is not a
style”: the tenets of rule and order
and proportion have been touted in many an article and conference. All the humble builder needs to guide him
through vernacular hut and Ionic temple alike are his trusty fountain pen, a
ruler, and his well-worn copy of n.’s architectural treatise.
“Classicism is
not a style!” Too many of the proponents
of this movement spout this catch phrase from one side of their mouths, yet
with the other they are critical of designs that, while coincidentally adhering
to their beliefs about rule, order and proportion, are not stoically
Greco-Roman in “character.”
They believe
what Vitruvius says, yet they continue to lack that authority he speaks
of. Why?
If by calling
ourselves “Classicists,” we are espousing the idea that traditional building
methods and adherence to classical theory are the basis of our sect, then how
can we, with the same breath, say that Romanesque or Gothic or Baroque are not
included in our clique, without first distinguishing them from the somehow more
acceptable Greek and Roman orders in terms of style? In doing so we make ourselves hypocrites and
rob ourselves of the authority we crave.
We are missing the point.
For example, one
could easily say that the appropriate, "classic" attire for a man
would be a suit. There may be occasions
where a different type of suit is necessary, but at heart, still a suit,
proportioned correctly for the body wearing it. But what is the appropriate “classic” attire for a woman? A man's suit, modified for a woman's proportions? A corset and bustle? A Roman tunic? And should every human being wear some permutation of the same
exact thing?
This is the type
of thinking that seems to be lacking in “Classical” architecture discussions
today. We as a group seem to have
decided that all buildings are “male” (I use this term not literally but
figuratively, in reference to the preceding paragraph), and therefore easily
prescribable as to the appropriate type of “suit.” If all builders throughout the centuries had thought this way,
our architectural heritage would look like a banker’s closet. Instead, we have Gothic cathedrals and
Baroque palaces in addition to Roman temples and Renaissance palazzi. All of these beautify our
cities, and were built by tectonic methods, in a proportion appropriate to a
particular aim. While some differ only
in the manner of decoration, some, like gothic, have their own inherent
structure and proportion. Each is
validated by the centuries through which it has survived, and, of course, by
the millions of dollars spent by tourists every year to see them and photograph
them.
Even Notre
Dame’s own Rome program, one of its greatest and most endangered resources, was
founded so that American students could get a first-hand glimpse of this rich
European architectural heritage. With
the loss of Jeffery Blanchard, will the students be further compelled to ignore
half of Rome—the Baroque part?
Besides
Jeffery’s unparalled superiority in his field, he beat the pavement with the
students, forcing them to experience the Urbs et Orbis with their feet, not
just their eyes. The students could feel
the distance between buildings, whether they realized it or not. In Jeffery’s class, the students did not experience
history, they became part of it.
This is the type
of education Vitruvius is talking about.
How can a student pursue both "the thing signified, and that which
gives it its significance," (Vitruvius, Book I, Chapter 1, #3) by studying
pictures in books and memorizing treatises?
We do not work in a fairy tale world, so why educate ourselves as though
we were, by simply ignoring those things which we find inconvenient? Notre Dame is not the Yellow Brick Road.
That is why as a
school, I believe that Notre Dame needs a leader who understands that good,
humanistic architecture is not determined by its clothing. Someone who can help the students understand
why the school has chosen traditionalism through dialogue rather
than strong-arming and confrontation.
Someone who is more interested in helping students understand the
concepts of traditional building than having them memorize the contents of
treatises. Both are important, as
Vitruvius has said, and as we have inscribed on our school's wall. We must remember that he also said, "In
the midst of all this great variety of subjects [theory, drawing, geometry,
history, philosophy, music, medicine, law and astronomy] an individual cannot
attain to perfection in each…" (Vitruvius, Book I, Chapter 1, #13)
In this highly
political, even sometimes tragically cannibalistic profession of Classical
Architecture, the leader of its top school ought to be someone who sets a good
example by putting the good of the students before any personal, political
maneuvering. Someone whose first
priority is making sure the students understand why the orders
are important, not whether they were off in the size of the abacus. Someone who can provide sound and helpful
criticism of a student's project, regardless of what clothing it wears. Someone who is well connected and respected
in the world of Classical architecture.
Of course the
person I am describing is Michael Lykoudis, the assistant chair of the
school. Michael is one of the most
humble, honest, intelligent, and hardworking individuals I know in his
field. He is an outstanding educator
and an outstanding friend to peers and students alike. He is not only greatly respected, but also
well-loved. Though he does have his own
practice, those of us who know him know that this would not create any conflict
of interest, as I believe it may with other candidates.
With a person
like Michael at the helm, I believe the School of Architecture can finally grow
into the realm where it truly belongs:
A school where tradition and humanism are the mainstays and
"Classicism" takes its rightful place as just one of the many
expressions of that rich depository.
And in this way, with a balance of building and theory, we as a field
will begin to command respect and authority.
And maybe someday they'll move the dumpsters.
Mi raccomando,
Lisa Schmitt
Bergman
Notre Dame '96
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