A brief introduction to Neoclassical Architecture...
The story begins over two thousand years ago with the architecture of Greece and, later, Rome.
Proportion, rounded arches, porticos, tympanums, the five orders (Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, Etruscan, Composite) — this was the original Classical Architecture.
But the Roman Empire fell, the Middle Ages arrived, and Classical Architecture faded away.
In its place Gothic Architecture slowly but surely emerged, a style fundamentally at odds with that of Greece and Rome.
Until, in 15th century Italy, scholars started paying more attention to Roman ruins.
They studied the buildings carefully, read a treatise written by the Roman architect Vitruvius, and learned the rules and motifs of classical architecture.
The Renaissance had begun.
Scholars like Leon Battista Alberti wrote their own books about classical architecture, codifying the different orders, proportions, and design features.
And these Renaissance architects, after learning the rules of classical architecture, applied them in new ways.
The Palazzo della Cancelleria (the first Renaissance palazzo in Rome) isn't necessarily something the Romans or Greeks would actually have built themselves, even though it uses their rules about proportion and the same decorative elements.
This is general, small N neoclassicism.
During the 16th century a new form of neoclassical architecture appeared — Baroque — partly in response to the Protestant Reformation.
Baroque still operated on classical ideas, but it played with the rules and was far more exuberant and ornamented than the Renaissance style.
Eventually this morphed into the Late Baroque, or Rococo Style.
This was an even more refined and extravagant form of neoclassicism, moving ever further away from the actual architecture of Greece and Rome.
Luxurious, flamboyant, theatrical.
Things changed in the second half of the 18th century. People started paying more attention to Greek architecture in particular, which was simpler and more restrained than Roman architecture.
Think of the Baroque and the Rococo — now look at a Greek temple. Worlds apart.
After the extravagance of the Baroque and Rococo it was time for something more serious — capital N Neoclassical Architecture was born.
Suddenly architects were designing buildings which the Greeks or the Romans might have actually built themselves.
Like La Madeleine in Paris.
This sort of Neoclassical Architecture was much less decorative and far more austere, imposing, and even rather geometric.
It wasn't always an *exact* copy of classical architecture, but you can see how something like the British Museum is much closer to original Greek design.
And so this was called the Greek Revival; the purest form of Neoclassical Architecture.
All across the world, though mainly in Europe, buildings started appearing which had not really been seen for almost 2,000 years.
Neoclassicism at its peak.
But Neoclassicism was a global movement, of course, and it took on slightly different forms around the world.
In the USA the Founding Fathers adopted a rather pure Neoclassicism to match their political admiration for the Romans and Greeks.
But then there's something like the US Capitol.
With that colossal dome it is certainly an interpretation of Classical Architecture rather than pure imitation.
But compare it to Baroque or Rococo or even Renaissance — this is still much closer to the original thing.
In Britain there was a movement known as "Palladianism", named after the Renaissance architect Andrea Palladio and his unusually simple and harmonious interpretation of classical architecture.
Chiswick House, built in 1729, is the ultimate Neo-Palladian building.
Georgian architecture is also part of this broader Neoclassical movement — not so much because it directly imitated Greco-Roman Architecture, but because it cleaved to their principles of symmetry, simplicity, and proportion.
The Royal Crescent in Bath is a perfect example.
Neoclassicism in France reached its zenith during the reign of Napoleon — who cast himself as the successor to the Roman Emperors.
This was the monumental, intimidating "Empire Style", epitomised by the Arc de Triomphe, a callback to the triumphal arches of ancient Rome.
Then there's the Beaux-Arts Style, which saw the return of certain Baroque tendencies; pure, rigorous Neoclassicism was beginning to fade in some parts of the world.
By the second half of the 19th century in France it had gone altogether; just look at the Palais Garnier.
There were many more variations of Neoclassicism with varying levels of adherence to original Greco-Roman Architecture, but all united by a general tendency toward simplicity and monumentality, far from the excesses of Baroque.
Renaissance, Baroque, and Rococo are all neoclassical because they are inspired by and use the rules of Ancient Greek and Roman architecture.
But true Neoclassical Architecture directly imitated the temples actually built by the Greeks and the Romans.
It's important not to get too caught up with "styles" — the lines are inevitably blurred and architecture is always about more than rules and external appearances.
But, hopefully, this has helped to explain the difference between neoclassical and Neoclassical architecture...
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
People talk about Picasso and Dalí, but here's a name you probably haven't heard: Hasui Kawase, the last master of Japanese ukiyo-e.
It sounds oddly specific, but no other artist in history was so good at depicting the weather...
There's a world in which Hasui Kawase never existed.
He was born as Bunjiro Kawase in 1883 and though art was his passion, Bunjiro was supposed to take over his father's business.
Until his sister and her husband eventually took over instead...
So Bunjiro was free to study painting, first under the Western-style artist Okada Saburosuke and then the traditional Japanese-style artist Kaburagi Kiyokata.
And it was Kiyokata who, according to custom, gave the young man his own artist's name — Hasui.
14 of the most beautiful windows in the world, from around the globe and across the centuries:
1. Maison Saint-Cyr, Brussels, Belgium
Art Nouveau was invented in Belgium — and the Maison Saint-Cyr, designed by Gustave Strauven in 1901, might just have the world's single finest Art Nouveau window.
An elegant shape with flowing lines, floral metalwork, and sumptuous wood.
2. Nasir ol-Molk Mosque, Shiraz, Iran
Also known as the Pink Mosque and built in the 1880s, this is perhaps the crowning architectural achievement of the Qajar Dynasty.
It is a kaleidoscope of pattern and light — partly thanks to its technicolour array of stained glass windows.
Why does The Lord of the Rings trilogy still look so good?
Many reasons, but here's one: Minas Tirith wasn't CGI. They built a miniature version of the whole city and filmed that. It looks realistic... because it was real.
And this wasn't even the biggest model they made...
Peter Jackson, director of The Lord of the Rings, loves to use "miniatures".
What's a miniature? You build a model of what is impossible to build for real.
They can be digitally enhanced, but miniatures give a texture and sense of realism which CGI can't replicate on its own.
This is one of the oldest techniques in film-making, going back well over a century.
A famous example is the 1927 film Metropolis.
Using foam, wood, polysterene, and just about everything else, artists and designers use miniatures to bring fictional worlds to life.
14 paintings by famous artists you probably haven't seen before:
1. Smoking Skull by Vincent van Gogh (1886)
2. Corpus Hypercubus by Salvador Dalí (1952)
After WWII Dalí entered his "nuclear mysticism" phase, during which he combined a fascination with physics — inspired by the recently invented atomic bomb — and seemingly ardent Catholicism.
The results were interesting.
3. My Dress Hangs There by Frida Kahlo (1933)
The majority of Kahlo's paintings include some element of self-portrait.
Not here, although her familiar Tehuana does hang in the midst of this chaotic vision of industrial society, part-painting and part-collage.
You can't understand the true scale of WW1 until you've seen its memorials.
146,000 soldiers are buried at this cemetery alone...
The battlefields of France and Belgium host an endless procession of memorials dedicated to the First World War, each striving in their own way to commemorate, to teach, to recall, and to endure.
Like the soaring spires of the Canadian National Vimy Memorial:
Or the sombre cascade of brick arches designed by Edward Lutyens at Thiepval.
It commemorates 73,337 soldiers who died at the various Battles of the Somme between 1915 and 1918.
Not all of them — only those who went missing and could not receive a proper burial.