Michael’s Sketch of Villa Capra (Villa Rotunda.) Vicenza, Italy.

John Ruskin had once said, “To draw the Leaf, is to know the Forest.” For generations this has been the practice of architects on their sojourns throughout Europe and the world; sketchbook in hand, recording buildings, details and landscapes- recording life.

“Trees in a Lane, perhaps at Ambleside,” 1847. John Ruskin (1819 – 1900). Pencil, black and brown ink, and ink wash, 17 5/8 x 22 5/8 inches. Ruskin Foundation (Ruskin Library, Lancaster University)

Regretfully, this practice has been relinquished over time to the camera, and now onto the even more convenient mobile phone. One can race through cities, villages and fields snapping shots without ever losing step. We can even share it with our friends instantly, or immediately post it on our wall- our modern day documentary of our exciting lives. But do we see what we are shooting? I mean, do we really see?

“Mountain Rock and Alpine Rose,” 1844 (or 1849). John Ruskin (1819 – 1900). Pencil, ink, chalk, watercolor and gouache, 11 3/4 x 16 1/4 inches. Ruskin Foundation (Ruskin Library, Lancaster University)

Although, I carry a sketchbook when I travel, I’m all too guilty of relying on my camera as I race about my day. Now, with digital photography, one doesn’t even have to stop to frame the perfect artistic shot. We can shoot thousands of pictures intending to edit to the one that captured the image we were seeking. Upon our return, these pictures are often quickly stored on a computer or server for future retrieval when needed for precedent.

A quick study before a light rain shower drove me to shelter in Tivoli, Italy.

Michael sketching at Drayton Hall, South Carolina during our office’s 20th anniversary retreat.

So why a sketchbook? Who has the time? I often find that going through these thousands of digital images I’m not only uncertain of the time and place the image was taken, but why I even took the picture to begin with. My sketchbook is different; with my sketchbook I’m not so much documenting an image, but I am actually stopping time. When I sketch, I absorb the moment; not only the detail, but the way the light strikes the object, the texture of the object, the coolness of its shadow. I feel the space about the object, the sound, the smell, the hum of life, the silence. Often, a quick watercolor was done with water from the canal at my feet, or a street fountain that quenched my thirst, or sometimes it’s actually the coffee that woke me up. Technique and artistry isn’t the point. The point is the sketch- it’s the moment.

The Grand Canal by Author. Venice, Italy.

Heliocaminus Baths, a precursor to the Pantheon, at Hadrian’s Villa by Author.

Then, when the sketchbook goes back on the shelf, among the other sketchbooks of my life, I am left with the places. They are now a part my experience; it is now a part of who I am. I no longer have to get out my sketchbook to remember, they can be recalled at any time or be revealed in my work at any moment.

Temple of Karnak, Egypt. 2015.

A west Texas landscape and cloud shadow study by the author.

A volcanic flow in Papua new Guinea.

A side street in Guatemala.

So although my camera is a vital instrument, I always carry my sketchbook while traveling. That way, I can always really know where I’ve been.

Categories: About Michael, Travels

Tagged: architect, architecture, artisan, artist, Europe, hands, Italy, Michael G. Imber, Michael Imber, painting, passion, photography, photos, rustic, tradition, traveling, watercolor

History of the Grand Tour – Part II

Michael Madsen

Posted on May 10, 2019

A reconstruction of the Roman Forum by our staff co-author, Michael Madsen.

To an architect, the Grand Tour had a more spiritual meaning – it was more than simply versing oneself in the generic education provided for the aristocrat. Instead, it was an immersion into the ephemeral masters of the past and their grand accomplishments.

Vitruvius was a Roman architect, author, and military engineer during the 1st century B.C.

Beginning in Antiquity, Vitruvius was a Roman military engineer whose chronicle of his architectural feats earned him the title of the first ‘Western Architect.’ His work, De Architectura (Ten Books on Architecture), reveals his concept of what is considered ‘architecture’ as well as its importance to the everyday life of civilians. For Vitruvius, a building should always have these three characteristics: firmitas, utilitas, and venustas, or firmness/durability, commodity/useful, and delight/beauty.

Vitruvian Man by Leonardo da Vinci, an illustration of the human body inscribed in the circle and the square derived from a passage about geometry and human proportions in Vitruvius’ writings.

The Gates of Paradise. A pair of bronze doors to the Battistero di San Giovanni by Lorenzo Ghiberti.

By the fifteenth century and sixteenth centuries, Renaissance masters such as Brunelleschi, Ghiberti, Da Vinci, and Alberti all built upon the tradition of ancient Roman and Greek architecture with their treatises and realized designs. They kept some of the medieval innovations, especially in church architecture, but gave them a new “classical” character and expression.

The front page of I Quattro Libri dell’Architettura (The Four Books of Architecture) by Andrea Palladio.

The Church of San Giorgio Maggiore, built between 1566 and 1610, by Andrea Palladio.

Interior: The nave, looking east towards the high altar.

During the time of the Venetian Republic, Andrea Palladio was an architect greatly influenced by Ancient Roman architecture and Vitruvius’ treatise, so much so that he went to Rome to measure and draw the ruins in the Forum, which he included in his treatise entitled I Quatro Libri dell’Architettura (The Four Books of Architecture). His greatest contributions to Renaissance architecture include his use of the forms of sacred Roman architecture, such as the temple front, on civic buildings like palazzos and on private villas. Equally important are Palladio’s churches, which deal with the design of façades with an unprecedented rigor in the Renaissance by keeping the tectonic expression of columns and pilasters with their appropriate Vitruvian intercolumniations.

Portrait of Giovanni Battista Piranesi. 1756.

The Colosseum, etching, 1757.

The Arch of Trajan at Benevento, etching, 1748-1774.

By the eighteenth century, Giovanni Battista Piranesi’s etchings of Roman Antiquity fallen into ruin had sparked in the imagination of society a nostalgia for Ancient Rome’s grandeur. Like Palladio, Piranesi looked back to Antiquity, but with an attitude that reflected the changing times as the seeds of Modernism were sown in the Enlightenment. Society began the search for an architectural expression of its time while still looking back to tradition.

John Soane by Christopher William Hunneman in 1776.

The bank of England by Sir John Soane.

The bank of England interior by Sir John Soane.

Sir John Soane was an English architect at the turn of the nineteenth century who is famously known for his design of the Bank of England, especially as rendered in Joseph Michael Gandy’s Piranesi-like ruins, and for his vast collection of models, casts, and drawings displayed in his English townhouse turned museum. This collection of historic objects reflects his two-year experience on the Grand Tour, where he not only wanted to study great art and architecture of Italy and France but wanted to physically take it back with him to England when possible.

Palace of the Republic in 1977 with the Fernsehturm in the background. Berlin, Germany. Featured in our blog, Reconstructing Beauty.

This attitude of museumification of art and architecture is still mainstream today in architectural practice, and reflects the change on tradition in architecture, severing it from how it was approached as a continuum in the Renaissance and Baroque. One only needs to look at Modernist interventions in historic settings in which the historic buildings or structures are assaulted with steel and glass enclosures to see how this process has continued to evolve (or really, devolve). While the Grand Tour was able to educate architects, giving them first-hand experience with great architecture spanning Antiquity to the Baroque, it also inadvertently contributed to this negative aspect on cities as new cultural ideas gained popularity.

Our own James Lenahan painting the Arch of Constantine during the 2018 Institute of Classical Architecture and Art Christopher H. Brown Rome Drawing Tour. (Off screen to his right in the Colosseum.)

Alice Arnn, painting the Lion’s Gate — the main entrance of the Branze Age citadel of Mycenae, southern Greece. It was completed around 1250 B.C.

Thankfully, the idea of studying the past to inform the present still has not been eradicated. Contemporary “Grand Tours” in the form of study-abroad experiences are offered in many schools of architecture and allow students to still learn from the great masters and their work because traveling to buildings and cities and seeing them in person is perhaps the best way to understand them and learn from them.

Categories: About Michael

Craft—Why We Make Things and Why It Matters

Michael Imber

Posted on April 26, 2019

John Bisbee – Brunswick – Welding Sculptor* “His Morality found expression in the integrity of his actions.” -Peter Korn

Authentic has always been the term I’ve preferred for Maine; a place where life is lived how it should be, connected to the land and what can be squeezed from it and its waters with hard work and bare hands. It is a land of fisherman, hunters, lumberjacks, farmers, artists, and craftsmen. It’s a world where farm to table isn’t a trend, but a way of life. Maine is authentic, because the rhythm of life is real and meaningful.

k Ray Murphy – Hancock – chainsaw Sculptor*

On a recent exploration of a bookstore in Camden I came across two books that spoke to me on this subject, one by Maine furniture maker, Peter Korn–WHY WE MAKE THINGS AND WHY IT MATTERS, The Education of a Craftsman and a coffee table book HANDCRAFTED MAINE by Katy Kelleher and Greta Rybus.

Peter Korn’s Center for Furniture Craftsmanship

Building a handmade canoe at the Salmon Falls Canoe shop in Shelburne, MA

Schooled to become a lawyer, Peter abandoned his father’s planned corporate path to find himself on Nantucket in an old abandoned barn making furniture in the early 1970’s, when the craft (like so many crafts) had all but disappeared. Peter discovered himself through the making of things. This was a real self-transformation- of body, and of spirit and mind.

Peter Korn’s desk, cherry, 1980 photo by Jim Dugan “…I see my career as a design process. It began with a brief to discover a good life…” -Peter Korn

Alec Brainerd – Brunswick – Artisan Boatworks*

Peter not only found the making of objects self-affirming, but as a cultural necessity. He saw craft as a societal and cultural memory made up of markers, for every time an object was created it passed an empirical knowledge through the object to the next generation of creators as a continuous conversation through history.

Tim Adams – Newcastle – Oxbow Beer*

Peter explores the notion that with the loss of craft, society has been left undernourished, constantly trying to fill the void of meaningless occupation with consumption. He equates the nature of work with the nature of a good life.

Masa Miyake – Portland – Meat farm – Restaurant – Produce Farm*

Swans Island Company – Northport – Blanket Weaving*

At one time, there was no distinction of importance in occupation; those who “made” provided for both themselves and their communities. In the 14^th century the Renaissance separated the artist from the craftsmen—art from making—beauty from utility. This was known as the Cartisan Divide; a separation between mind & matter. This division placed the arts in the realm of the mind, and the “applied arts” became a lesser reflection of that of the body.

Italian renaissance · Deruta, 1500-1530. The Fitzwilliam Museum : Applied Arts Home

In the 18^th C. we, as human fabers, graduated to the industrial age. The divide between those who lived by the making of quality, one-of-a-kind objects by hand, and of those who joined as minions in mass-producing factories, would become a cultural chasm that would consume our world.

Factories sprung up in the industrial revolution

Social thinkers such as John Ruskin and Robert Morris countered with what became know as the Arts & Crafts Movement and the first use of the term “Craft” as we know it today.

Two pattern designs by William Morris

The strawberry thief (flower and bird pattern). Chintz (1884) Design by William Morris

The Arts & Crafts Movement had three major themes- the applied arts, the vernacular and the politics of work. Applied Arts became the medium of the movement, a way to create quality goods that would compete with meaningless mass-produced goods.

Jeremy Frey – Indian Island – Basket weaver*

Without pleasure in work, man would turn to consumerism (capitalism) to fill the void created by an empty life; thus, the idea of creating quality things of meaning was the only path to the psychological health of a better citizen.

Working with your hands and mind engages the worker. “Work should engage both body and mind.” -Peter Korn

Korn states that by working with the head, the heart and the hand one is transformed. “Like a magician, or a god, I found a way to transmute thought into matter”, and unlike other artist, “a craftsman fashions tangible matter –wood, clay, metal, glass, fiber; today almost anything– into enduring objects.”

Glassblower using his breath to form the object

Korn goes on to say, “Craft is especially fulfilling since its materiality anchors the craftsman’s understanding – the stories, ideas, and beliefs through which he structures his identity, organizes experience, and makes decisions in reality” It is in this reality, that the craftsman creates an object that “embodies” meaning, or a sense of “spiritual continuity.” A handcrafted object carries meaning that a mass-produced object could never possess.

Hand Made Hand Forged Iron Door Locks by Kevin P. Moreau of Plumb Farm Workshops, 2004

Korn states that a work may reflect a particular aesthetic related to a movement or time, bringing with it “a thick cultural narrative of style and meaning.” Secondly, it possesses a physical impression in its details; the beauty of the wood, a dovetail corner, a shape or form, a finish; “each transports a silent freight of information.” Thirdly, the emotional fulfillment the object brings to its owner that which only gains personal meaning over time.”

An Illustrated History of the Dovetail Joint, by Wood works Gallery Bungendore

As farmers, potters, furniture makers, chefs, brew masters, fishermen, artists, weavers among others who forge a living through their living cultural transformations in craft, the people of Maine are truly authentic. They are connected—to each other and to their past. They have learned from those before them how to make and will teach those after to do the same—giving true meaning to all they do and to the lives they live—what I believe Peter would call the “Good Life.”

Tim Semler – Brooksville – Tinder Hearth (Bakery)*

*All photos marked with an asterix in this post are by Greta Rybus from the book “Handcrafted Maine” written by Katy Kelleher

Categories: About Michael

Tagged: Arts and crafts movement, Craft, Handcrafted Maine by Katy Kelleher and Greta Rybus, John Ruskin, Nantucket, The Education of a Craftsman, Why We Make Things and Why It Matters by Peter Korn, William Morris

Architecture in Time

Robert Dinkins

Posted on April 19, 2019

“Its underlying concept – that repeated rebuilding renders sanctuaries eternal – is unique in the world.” – on the festival of Sikinen Sengo ceremony

At the request of a friend I began reading Symbols and Allegories in Art by Matilde Battistini. Behind the introductory pages, the first symbol is easily recognizable but a curious one. At first glance it seems contradictory, if not absolutely futile, it is the symbol of Ouroboros — the snake that eats its own tail. In a time following tragedy, the burning of Notre Dame Cathedral, the allegory of Ouroboros reminds us of the importance of regenerating architecture that was beset by chaos.

The self-eating serpent originated in Egyptian mythology and represented the yearly cycle – or a ring of time that runs its reverse once it had been completed – including the cycle of existence itself, however this theological concept was superseded by Christianity’s dogma of a linear timeline.

In hermetic alchemy, it symbolized the refining of materials or transition of one thing to another through nature’s underlying magical principles of exchange. During the Italian Renaissance, it became a prominent icon for nobility to engrave on the back of medallions in support of neo-paganism. For our purposes, it represents the cycle of progress and decline.

Architect and artist Giovanni Battista Piranesi illustrates the relationship between Ouroboros and architecture in his vignette titled, Work conquers all. Virgil, First Georgic. Here, Ouroboros rests on a wreath of feathers tied together by a ribbon at the bottom most point. Interweaving around him to create a sense of depth and frame are the tools of architects; the quill pen, charcoal pencil, paint brush, and protractor.

With his tools assembled, Piranesi speaks to virtue of hope within artists; with work all things are conquered. The cyclic nature of Ouroboros is set within the architect’s tools signifying the architect’s labor in respect to time. It seems to say, no good can be done nor harm undone but through steady labor.

To elect the labors of ‘regenerating’ architecture to preserve is exemplified by the traditional Japanese ceremony that takes place at the Ise Jingu Shrine. For nearly 2,000 years the local community of Mie Prefecture gathers every 20 years to both remove one shrine and rebuild another at the complex. The community performs this act out of a respect for the sacred site and communal camaraderie.

It takes nearly eight years to prepare construction materials for the shrine, four for the timber alone. As one shrine is ceremoniously removed its location remains designated as a holy place and the cycle’s previously deconstructed shrine is rebuilt. It is a community effort with local citizens both crafting and carrying the materials to set them in place together.

Earlier this week, the world received the horrible news of a fire that had consumed a majority of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, France. However, Europe is no stranger to reconstructing masterpieces after tragedy.

In 1666, the bakery of Thomas Farynor caught on fire and grew into the Great Fire of London. It swept through the old Roman city wall, ignited the heart of the city, and cut off any escape from the Thames riverfront. Due to London’s narrow streets, the city’s panicked denizens, and the inefficient fire fighting techniques at the time, the fire destroyed a majority of the old city. In the fire’s aftermath, Sir Christopher Wren was commissioned to redesign and reconstruct the city.

The city of Dresden, Germany was once renowned for its architecture earning it the title “Florence on the Elbe.” The city also lost many of its historical masterpieces and much of its urban fabric during World War II. Several monuments in the city center, including the Zwinger Palace; the Semperoper, the opera house; and the Frauenkirche, the city’s cathedral, were left in ruins but have since been rebuilt.

The city of Berlin is in the process of rebuilding one of its oldest and most distinctive buildings. Originally from the 1400s, the Stadtschloss (or Berlin City Palace) was the home to Prussia’s kings long before the modern nation of Germany was formed. Damaged during World War II, it survived into the 1950s, before the communist East German regime destroyed it.

In 2010, the city began rebuilding the original palace from the 1400s, and construction will be completed this year. This new version of that historical building will remind Berlin of its history and reintroduce a beautiful and long-admired example of great civic architecture to the city.

Notre Dame’s sister Cathedral, Notre Dame de Reims, is built on the site of the baptism of Clovis, the first Christian King of the Franks, and is one of the world’s first efforts at systemic historical preservation. Notre Dame de Reims was the church where French kings were crowned and is considered a crown jewel of gothic Architecture.It is imbued with both historical and allegorical meaning.

To hear of Notre Dame’s fire is a horrific shock, but we know that from tragedy can come miracles. Just as ouroboros labors in his cycle of regrowth, it is our hope to see the cathedral rebuilt with a spirit of renewal and vigor that has been seen worldwide in reconstructing our architectural masterpieces.

However, it is our belief that the Cathedral should be rebuilt into its original glory. There is a temptation to break the cycle but it is of the utmost importance that we attempt to preserve art and humanity, despite tragedy. To rise above the chaos around us, through regenerative work.

Categories: About Michael

History of the Grand Tour – Part I

Robert Dinkins

Posted on April 12, 2019

Temple of Neptune, Paestum, Italy. By Henri-Pierre-Francois Labrouste. 1828. From Ecole Nationale Superieure Des Beaux-Arts.

At a certain age, new expectations are set upon us by societal traditions to guide us from adolescents to adulthood. Different cultures have unique rituals such as the Amish Rumspringa, the Hispanic Quinceñera, the Jewish Bar/Bat Mitzvah, and the Japanese Seijin-no-Hi. Guided by an elder in society, the initiate is led through a ritual process that ends with his or her acceptance into the mature group.

Similarly, in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, the young English Aristocrats spurred on by the Age of Enlightenment underwent a journey throughout Europe known as the Grand Tour.

Grand Tour – historic map showing a possible route from England through France across the Alps and down into Italy (marked in red).

The journey’s ultimate destination was Italy, whose rich culture and history served as a capstone to the young aristocrat’s education. The wealthiest patrons would visit any combination of countries in between — Spain, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Germany, Turkey, and Greece. According to the itinerary, the Tour could last upwards of six years and the average trip required a minimum of six months of traveling time between destinations.

View of the Palais d’Orléans (called Luxembourg) in Paris, ca. 1643, with the garden parterre designed by Jacques Boyceau visible behind the palace.

View of the south facade and the garden basin, Luxembourg Palace.

Garden facade of the Château of Versailles as built by Louis XIII, etched by Israel Silvestre. 1660-1664.

The Palace of Versailles circa 1668, as painted by Pierre Patel (Versailles Museum). The Grand Trianon, begun in 1670, is not depicted.

Beginning in Dover, England the caravan often made landfall in Calais, France, and headed toward Paris. The group, consisting of the young man or woman, the knowledgeable chaperone or “bear-leader,” and the accompanying band of servants; including cooks, hired artists, translators; sought to educate the young aristocrat. France was often the starting country of choice due to its close proximity to England and the fact that French was the language of diplomacy and nobility at the time.

Johann Baptist Lampi II, Portrait of Antonio Canova, after 1806.

Jacques Louis David The Oath of the Horatii, 1784.

The traveling company would stop at their destinations in between, often spending a couple of weeks in smaller towns and several months in major cities. They were in search of the origin of Western Civilization and as many of the cultural evolutions they could afford that took place along the way. As memoirs of their travels, the aristocrat often brought back statues, trinkets, historical artifacts, and commissioned paintings to adorn their home.

Piazza San Marco Looking East from the North-West Corner. 1758. Oil on canvas by Giovanni Antonio Canaletto.

The Entrance to the Grand Canal, Venice. 1730. Oil on canvas by Giovanni Antonio Canaletto.

Upon their return to England, the noble son or daughter was considered capable of assuming major diplomatic positions or general governing responsibilities. Several factors ended the aristocratic exclusivity Grand Tour. In 1789, the French Revolution greatly upset the country’s hospitality. With the invention of the steamboat and railroad, the Tour was now more than readily available to working class individuals, and thus, displaced the enthusiasm of the aristocracy.

In the second part we’ll discuss the sojourn of architects on the Grand Tour and its importance to pushing the continuum of architecture; in a way that is modern, rooted in history and culture.

Categories: About Michael

A Large Book of Little Things

Devi Norton

Posted on April 5, 2019

Louse from Micrographia

I recently began reading a book by Lisa Jardine called “The Curious Life of Robert Hooke, The Man Who Measured London”. A largely forgotten figure, Hooke was an engineer, surveyor, architect and inventor. He is known for working with Christopher Wren to rebuild London after the great fire of 1666 and for publishing the important collection of his investigations with a microscope, “Micrographia”. An early member of the Royal Society of London, Hooke is not nearly as well known as the men he collaborated with–most famously, Sir Isaac Newton, with whom he had a long hostile rivalry.

Robert Hooke. Micrographia: or, Some physiological descriptions of minute bodies made by magnifying glasses. London, 1665

There is no known portrait of Hooke, but his image has been imagined by descriptions from friends.

Hooke was from the Isle of Wight and was inspired by the ocean, navigation, and by the host of minerals, fossils and resources he observed there. He was a sickly youth who was interested in everything about the natural world. From his early life of hard work and study through his success in mid-life and into his latter years marked by illness as well as intellectual disputes, his health problems plagued him his entire life.

Isle of Wight, where Robert Hooke was from

Hooke’s drawings of fossils from the Isle of Wight.

Often he would show his specimens in a circle to mimic the view through a microscope. Micrographia was very popular and the first scientific best seller, starting a general interest in the world of microbes and things that could be observed through a microscope.

For all of his accomplishments, Hooke is relegated to obscurity–and Jardine’s book explores how and why this happened. The famous architect Christopher Wren, who Jardine also wrote a biography of, was a friend and associate of Hooke’s. It was with Hooke that Wren worked to rebuild London after the Great Fire of 1666 and it was Hooke who designed many of the buildings under Wren’s supervision. The combination of scientific observation and architecture is an interesting one, and is evident in Hooke’s design for the monument to the fire.

The Monument to the Great Fire–also an oversized scientific instrument.

Wren ultimately signed off on the final designs that Hooke created and, as fate would have it, it was Wren who was solely credited for the work. Architecture of the 17th century was a gentlemanly pursuit for well educated men and was often based on studying Vitruvius’ work De Architectura as well as other classics. Hooke even collaborated on the famous St. Paul’s Cathedral, coming up with the innovative dome design that is clearly influenced by his scientific studies.

They designed a remarkable amount of buildings around London, including the infamous St. Mary of Bethlehem, which over the years became known as “Bedlam.”

Bethlam Hospital, designed by Hooke

Hooke, who also had the title of city surveyor, collaborated with Wren on a new city plan for London. It is reported that Hooke suggested that they redesign the city on a grid pattern with wide boulevards and central arteries–a design that was then copied many times around the world.

A Plan for Rebuilding the City of London after the Great Fire in 1666

Always fascinated with instruments, Hooke was an inventor with many patents and inventions to his name. By modifying and refining the microscope, Hooke achieved 50x, the most powerful magnification at the time, which allowed him to discover the cell. He invented a lot of other instruments, including the balance spring for timepieces.

Cork “cells” and Hooke’s microscope

Fabric fibers, from Micrographia

A part of the leaf of a stinging nettle

I am fascinated by the intercorrelation of scientific study and design. In an increasingly specialized climate, it is easy to forget how seemingly unrelated fields are actually connected and can inform one another. I became interested in Hooke through his illustrations, but I am enjoying learning more about his brilliant and, indeed, curious life.

Categories: About Michael

Tagged: Bedlam, Great Fire in 1666, Isle of Wight, Lisa Jardine, Microgrpahia, Robert Hooke

A House for Everyday of the Year

Robert Dinkins

Posted on March 29, 2019

An aerial of Knole house, the earliest parts of the home dating back to 1456.

Always moving, never slowing, like a river which carries all things to immemorial. Creation is subject to time and we are no exception. Some may perceive this as a necessity, others find it disenchanting, and most find it terrifying. However, there are a few who seek to embrace this reality — honor and replicate its principles in art. Architects are no exception.

An oil painting of The Towers at Didsbury by Thomas Worthington Whittredge.

Known simply as “Calendar Homes,” these homes or estates are often not simple at all. Typically, the residence will feature any combination of 365 windows (days of the year), 52 staircases (weeks in the year), 12 chimneys (months), 7 wings or courtyards (days of the week), and 4 gardens (seasons). But a home can feature any combination portions of the home with these numbers as they see fit — some have 365 panes of glass, 12 passage ways, 7 exterior doors etc.

The second major building phase carried out by the Sackvilles completed in 1605.

Since 1946, the building has belonged to the National Trust.

The Knole house in Kent Park, England is one of the first houses to adapt to the principles of a horology. Dating back to 1456, the second major building phase initiated in 1604 by Thomas Sackville, the First Earl of Dorset. The palace boasts approximately 365 rooms, 52 staircases — a few were by interior renovations — and seven courts.

Most notably, the estate was featured in several Beatles music videos — “Penny Lane,” “Strawberry Fields Forever” — and served as the influence for their song “Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite!” The estate also was featured in the films The Other Boleyn Girl (2008), Burke and Hare (2010), Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, and Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides.

Budding restoration work at Boughton House.

Boughton House Grand Etang.

Boughton House is just to the north of Kettering in Northamptonshire, and the estate, which is owned by the Duke of Buccleuch, extends to cover several local villages.

The Boughton House, one of the several Seats of the Duke of Buccleuch, in Northamtonshire is virtually unchanged from the 17th century. Known as the “English Versailles” it was patroned by Ralph Montagu, a well-known patron of the Huguenot craftspeople. Its exterior features strong French architectural influences and serves as a reflections of Ralph Montagu’s time as England’s ambassador to France.

An aerial shot illustrates the unusual shape of the building.

The house was built mainly from Cairness granite.

Cairness, a neoclassical calendar estate built from 1791 to 1797, was designed by architect James Playfair. Unfortunately, Playfair passsed away in 1794 but his dream for the estate was realized by French architects Etienne-Louis Boullee and Claude Nicholas Ledoux with the assistance of Sir John Soane.

The house was commissioned by Charles Gordon of Cairness and Buthlaw, and stands as one of the stunningly finest examples of Neoclasical architecture in Britain. The home also boasts the first Egyptian Room of its kind featuring hieroglyphics and plaster

A faded view of the house and nearby landscape.

Bradgate House in the 1880’s.

Sadly, several Calendar Homes have failed or are failing the test of time. One such home, known as the Groby property was “majestic in both proportions and appearance” but was demolished in 1926. The completed home was built for George Harry Grey and when completed featured 365 windows, 52 rooms, and 12 main chimneys and was complimented by an elaborately constructed lake.

The Towers, Didsbury, Residence of Mr. D. Adamson.

A now converted 19th Century mansion house now providing prestigious, character office accommodation on The Towers Business Park, Didsbury.

Erected near Manchester City Center in Didsbury stands the Towers. A calendar home who’s grand design is by Thomas Worthington and was built from 1868-1872. The home is styled in a florid Gothic style and boasts 12 towers, 52 rooms and 365 windows. Among its architectural feats, there are a large number of gargoyles on the projecting angles of the exterior and a prize was said to have been offered for the ugliest design.

Avon Tyrrell House in 1910.

Avon Tyrrell House.

Avon Tyrrell, a building of troubled fates, is infamously affiliated with the name Norman Walter Tirel. A man who in the 11th century accidentally killed King William II while hunting near New Forest. The manor would exchange ownership many times until 1882 in which the 3rd Baron Manners, John Manners-Sutton, won the 1882 Grand National horse race. Thus winning enough sums to rebuild the house under the guidance of W. R. Lethaby.

However, this reconstruction would not take place until 1891. During World War II the estate was acquired by the government and now serves as the headquarters of UK Youth, a national youth charity and activity center.

Bedstone College, 2006.

The 19th-century country house at Bedstone.

Finally, the crown jewel of calendar homes is no longer a home at all, but rather a boarding school in England. Bedstone College or Bedstone Court, as it was originally called, is a three storied house reputed to have the standard 365 windows, 52 rooms, 12 chimneys, and 7 external doors.

In addition to these principles, the College’s central hall boasts a 52 paneled stained glass window depicting the zodiacs, months of the year, as well as the associated birds and agricultural symbolism for every month. Tragically, the house was damaged by a fire in 1996 but it has since been fully restored.

Cairness House viewed from the south.

If you’re convinced that Horology and Architecture have a beautiful connection, I’d be one to agree with you and I would not mind watching time pass by in one of these homes anytime soon.

Categories: About Michael

Tagged: 365, architecture, calendar, English, french, home, lethaby, neoclassical, Sir John Soane

The blog of Michael G Imber Architects

Stop and Smell the Ink

Michael Imber

Posted on May 17, 2019

History of the Grand Tour – Part II

Michael Madsen

Posted on May 10, 2019

Craft—Why We Make Things and Why It Matters

Michael Imber

Posted on April 26, 2019

Architecture in Time

Robert Dinkins

Posted on April 19, 2019

History of the Grand Tour – Part I

Robert Dinkins

Posted on April 12, 2019

A Large Book of Little Things

Devi Norton

Posted on April 5, 2019

A House for Everyday of the Year

Robert Dinkins

Posted on March 29, 2019