intentioned as the citizens to-day, but they simply did not know how to do what they wanted to do. The plea of ignorance is as good a defence as can be put up; but sordid condition of areas, not only in Leeds but in many other cities, are the result of greed and self-interest in a past generation. Architects were as well aware of the value of sunlight then as now, but they had to do the best they could with the sites provided. With the crowded speculative housing of a past era they had nothing to do. The health authorities of the time might have done something to stop that, but either ignored the evil, or lacked the necessary legal powers to deal with it. Only the never-ending and increasing cost to the community of these plague spots in the cities has awakened the responsible authorities to the fact that the enrichment of one generation may mean a colossal addition to the rates that its successors have to pay.
Colour in the home is now being very widely discussed, and its influence on mental and bodily health very generally admitted. In one of the London evening papers, a lady pertinently asks why we should be put off with cold whiteness in the bathroom, the one apartment, more than any other, where one would naturally expect that an inviting warmth of hue would be desirable. We are afraid we can no more explain the eternal white bathroom than we can find satisfying reasons for the constant demand for white paint or white enamel all over the rest of the house. The paint manufacturers vie in producing all the colours of the spectrum; the tile-makers are no whit behind in producing wares of beautiful hues. The fault evidently does not lie with them. We can only suppose, therefore, that the public generally prefers white bathrooms and white paint, and that the builders of homes seek to cultivate the favour of the majority. There is no reason, however, why the lady who raises the query should rest content with the choice of the herd; materials for the walls, floors, ceilings and fitments of her bathroom can be obtained in a variety of colours for her special choice. This question of colour has gone a step further; lighting is now to be laid under contribution. At a lecture, arranged by the Electrical Association for Women, last week, demonstrations were given to show how coloured light could be used to enhance the natural colours of objects and change them materially; also of how rooms could be made warmer and more cheerful by yellow, pink or orange shades of light, or the opposite effect produced by green and-blue shades; finally, how a change of light could alter the appearance of a room as much as if it had been repainted a different colour.
From a statement in the Daily Mail on Wednesday, it is apparent that the London County Council will persist with their scheme for pulling down Waterloo Bridge and erecting a new six-way bridge on its site. This has been ˮvirtually decided upon, ’’ although the
report of the Expert Committee (if two can be said to constitute a committee) respecting a double-deck bridge at Charing Cross has not yet been received. Its contents are apparently already known to the Council. In effect, it is reported that the cost of the double-deck bridge at Charing Cross would be at least double the amount estimated in the report of the Royal Commission on Cross-River Traffic. Our contemporary can hardly be correct in stating, however, that a double-deck bridge at Charing Cross is impracticable from an engineering point of view. No committee would, we venture to think, desire to affix such a badge of incompetence on the whole British engineering profession.
It is eminently desirable that the Government should give some clear and precise indication of what protection is afforded to an old building by its being scheduled under the Ancient Monuments Act. It is the fond belief of the public, that once a structure has been entered on the roll of such monuments it is automatically secured from damage and destruction, but recent events would seem to cast grave doubts about the assumption. This week we mention the case of Monnow Bridge at Monmouth, but the day following Mr. Reginald Blunt, of the Chelsea Society, writes to The Times, pointing out that the Chelsea Borough Council proposes to demolish two of the finest houses in Cheyne Row to make a second way into some back land on which the Council proposes to build some houses. According to Mr. Blunt, this position would not be the best for such a way, even if an additional one is wanted. But what one would like to know is how, when Cheyne Row has been scheduled as “especially worthy of preservation” by the Royal
Commission, proposals can be put forward by a responsible authority for the destruction of any part of it. It is difficult enough now to get buildings scheduled that ought to be scheduled, for the Commission is rather arbitrary in the matter of dates. And it is precisely in cities and the more congested centres of population that protection is most vitally needed. The protection and reparation of ruins, often very fragmentary ones, in remote rural areas seems to be well attended to. But if inclusion on the list of buildings to be preserved is no guarantee against proposals for unnecessary and wanton destruction, then the whole business appears to be a farce.
The statement in Mr. Walter Tapper’s recent Presidential Address had prepared most people for an early announcement about the new home of the R. I. B. A., but the report, apparently well-founded, that this would be found in the premises at present occupied by the Civil Service Commission, has been received with mixed feelings. Not a few architects, we gather, had expected to hear that a new building was to be erected for the worthy housing of the Institute, and that its design, arrived at by a competition among the members, would afford both an object lesson to the general public as well as an opportunity for the successful competitor to demonstrate his capabilities as a designer in a truly modern manner. Possibly, the Council rather feared such an essay in the present transitional stage of architecture; more probably financial considerations debarred launching out in the role of a building owner, although it is hardly to be supposed that the acquisition of the premises in Burlington Gardens will be an inexpensive matter. Certainly Pennethorne’s building, if not very inspired, is “safe.” Without pretending to any
inside information, we may suppose, however, that the choice was influenced by other considerations. The desire of the Institute to hold an annual exhibition, or architectural salon, and to attract the public to meetings, would naturally direct their minds to places where the people most do congregate; and Burlington Gardens, as a short cut between Bond Street and Regent Street, also close to Piccadilly Circus, the homes of other learned Societies and Clubland, certainly fulfils this requirement better, perhaps, than Conduit Street, or even Bedford Square, which was once talked about, with what authority we know not. At all events, the new Institute premises abut on the Royal Academy, and, who knows, it might even be possible, some day, to cut through the back wall, and by a combined effort of the two bodies, produce for the R. A. Summer Exhibition a show of architecture that would be worthy of the Mistress Art.
Colour in the home is now being very widely discussed, and its influence on mental and bodily health very generally admitted. In one of the London evening papers, a lady pertinently asks why we should be put off with cold whiteness in the bathroom, the one apartment, more than any other, where one would naturally expect that an inviting warmth of hue would be desirable. We are afraid we can no more explain the eternal white bathroom than we can find satisfying reasons for the constant demand for white paint or white enamel all over the rest of the house. The paint manufacturers vie in producing all the colours of the spectrum; the tile-makers are no whit behind in producing wares of beautiful hues. The fault evidently does not lie with them. We can only suppose, therefore, that the public generally prefers white bathrooms and white paint, and that the builders of homes seek to cultivate the favour of the majority. There is no reason, however, why the lady who raises the query should rest content with the choice of the herd; materials for the walls, floors, ceilings and fitments of her bathroom can be obtained in a variety of colours for her special choice. This question of colour has gone a step further; lighting is now to be laid under contribution. At a lecture, arranged by the Electrical Association for Women, last week, demonstrations were given to show how coloured light could be used to enhance the natural colours of objects and change them materially; also of how rooms could be made warmer and more cheerful by yellow, pink or orange shades of light, or the opposite effect produced by green and-blue shades; finally, how a change of light could alter the appearance of a room as much as if it had been repainted a different colour.
From a statement in the Daily Mail on Wednesday, it is apparent that the London County Council will persist with their scheme for pulling down Waterloo Bridge and erecting a new six-way bridge on its site. This has been ˮvirtually decided upon, ’’ although the
report of the Expert Committee (if two can be said to constitute a committee) respecting a double-deck bridge at Charing Cross has not yet been received. Its contents are apparently already known to the Council. In effect, it is reported that the cost of the double-deck bridge at Charing Cross would be at least double the amount estimated in the report of the Royal Commission on Cross-River Traffic. Our contemporary can hardly be correct in stating, however, that a double-deck bridge at Charing Cross is impracticable from an engineering point of view. No committee would, we venture to think, desire to affix such a badge of incompetence on the whole British engineering profession.
It is eminently desirable that the Government should give some clear and precise indication of what protection is afforded to an old building by its being scheduled under the Ancient Monuments Act. It is the fond belief of the public, that once a structure has been entered on the roll of such monuments it is automatically secured from damage and destruction, but recent events would seem to cast grave doubts about the assumption. This week we mention the case of Monnow Bridge at Monmouth, but the day following Mr. Reginald Blunt, of the Chelsea Society, writes to The Times, pointing out that the Chelsea Borough Council proposes to demolish two of the finest houses in Cheyne Row to make a second way into some back land on which the Council proposes to build some houses. According to Mr. Blunt, this position would not be the best for such a way, even if an additional one is wanted. But what one would like to know is how, when Cheyne Row has been scheduled as “especially worthy of preservation” by the Royal
Commission, proposals can be put forward by a responsible authority for the destruction of any part of it. It is difficult enough now to get buildings scheduled that ought to be scheduled, for the Commission is rather arbitrary in the matter of dates. And it is precisely in cities and the more congested centres of population that protection is most vitally needed. The protection and reparation of ruins, often very fragmentary ones, in remote rural areas seems to be well attended to. But if inclusion on the list of buildings to be preserved is no guarantee against proposals for unnecessary and wanton destruction, then the whole business appears to be a farce.
The statement in Mr. Walter Tapper’s recent Presidential Address had prepared most people for an early announcement about the new home of the R. I. B. A., but the report, apparently well-founded, that this would be found in the premises at present occupied by the Civil Service Commission, has been received with mixed feelings. Not a few architects, we gather, had expected to hear that a new building was to be erected for the worthy housing of the Institute, and that its design, arrived at by a competition among the members, would afford both an object lesson to the general public as well as an opportunity for the successful competitor to demonstrate his capabilities as a designer in a truly modern manner. Possibly, the Council rather feared such an essay in the present transitional stage of architecture; more probably financial considerations debarred launching out in the role of a building owner, although it is hardly to be supposed that the acquisition of the premises in Burlington Gardens will be an inexpensive matter. Certainly Pennethorne’s building, if not very inspired, is “safe.” Without pretending to any
inside information, we may suppose, however, that the choice was influenced by other considerations. The desire of the Institute to hold an annual exhibition, or architectural salon, and to attract the public to meetings, would naturally direct their minds to places where the people most do congregate; and Burlington Gardens, as a short cut between Bond Street and Regent Street, also close to Piccadilly Circus, the homes of other learned Societies and Clubland, certainly fulfils this requirement better, perhaps, than Conduit Street, or even Bedford Square, which was once talked about, with what authority we know not. At all events, the new Institute premises abut on the Royal Academy, and, who knows, it might even be possible, some day, to cut through the back wall, and by a combined effort of the two bodies, produce for the R. A. Summer Exhibition a show of architecture that would be worthy of the Mistress Art.