CH. III THE LAMP OF POWER 117
mystery: and this it can only give by depth or diffusion of gloom, by the frown upon its front, and the shadow of its recess. So that Rembrandtism is a noble manner in architecture, though a false one in painting; and I do not believe that ever any building was truly great, unless it had mighty masses, vigorous and deep, of shadow mingled with its surface. And among the first habits that a young architect should learn, is that of thinking in shadow, not looking at a design in its miserable liny skeleton; but conceiving it as it will be when the dawn lights it, and the dusk leaves it;1 when its stones will be hot, and its crannies cool; when the lizards will bask on the one, and the birds build in the other. Let him design* with the sense of cold and heat upon him; let him cut out the shadows, as men dig wells in unwatered plains; and lead along the lights, as a founder does his hot metal; let him keep the full command of both, and see that he knows how they fall, and where they fade. His paper lines and proportions are of no value: all that he has to do must be done by spaces of light and darkness; and his business is to see that the one is broad and bold enough not to be swallowed up by twilight, and the other deep enough not to be dried like a shallow pool by a noon-day sun.
And, that this may be, the first necessity is that the quantities of shade or light, whatever they may be, shall be thrown into masses, either of something like equal weight, or else large masses of the one relieved with small of the other; but masses of one or other kind there must be. No design that is divided at all, and yet not divided into masses, can
* “Let him-let him.” All very fine; but all the while, there wasn’t one of the architects for whom this was written-nor is there one alive now-who could, or can, so much as shade an egg, or a tallow candle; how much less an egg-moulding or a shaft! [1880.]
1 [One of the reviewers, in noticing this passage, called attention to the neglect of its teaching in some conspicuous buildings of the time: “We know of no building in the metropolis, erected of late years, in which there has been any attempt at producing picturesque or grand effects by means of judicious disposition of light and shade. The new front to Buckingham Palace (1846) dwells in one leaden gloom the whole of the day from its position with regard to the light. The new Houses of Parliament are wretchedly deficient in this particular; indeed chiaroscuro is an art which modern architects seem entirely to ignore” (Weekly Chronicle, June 3, 1849).]
[Version 0.04: March 2008]