r^%*^ :'^i,-^ %.xm.. NA 2500 C7 . C^ege e/^ii-w-.. Comeij lj«i»,-,... -■4ry 2 %i Date Due A^ ^uS^ ^^asT jM^iUseo tj^illpiiil Tf"^ Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924016323135 SEMI-CENTENNIAL OF THE COLLEGE OF ARCHITECTURE CORNELL UNIVERSITY OCTOBER 21, 1921 ITHACA, NEW YORK PUBLISHED BY THE UNIVERSITY .1921 n CONTENTS Introduction 5 Professor Thomas Frederick Crane's Address . lo William Emerson's Address i6 Address of Thomas Hastings i8 INTRODUCTION PRESIDENT Andrew D. White, in his annual report dated June 20, 1871, to the Board of Trustees of Cornell University, said: " I think the time has arrived for adding to our other departments a College of Architecture. " The Board of Trustees thereupon (Proceedings, June 21, 1871) took action as follows: "On motion of President White, resolved, that a Department of Architecture be established at the University and that the executive committee be au- thorized, on recommendation of the Committee of this Board on Choice of Faculty, to elect a Professor of Architecture. " PROCEEDINGS AND ADDRESSES ' I ^HE President and members of the Board of Trustees, the -*■ Dean, Faculty and students of the College of Architecture, delegates from other universities and colleges, and other persons met in the south dome of Barnes Hall at 1 1 o'clock on Friday morning, October 21, 1921, to observe the semi-centennial of the founding of the College. President Farrand presided. He said: PRESIDENT FARRAND'S ADDRESS Ladies and Gentlemen: I find that the duties of the President of Cornell are various. I was not certain that I was to preside at this meeting, but I am delighted to do so if that is your wish, Mr. Dean. I am embarrassed distinctly at even pre- tending to speak to you upon a subject such as archi- tecture, with which you are familiar and with which I am only familiar as an amateur. I remember very well many years ago attending, as a very young physi- cian, a celebration in the Academy of Medicine in New York. Former President Cleveland, who had just left the White House, was to make the address of the evening to this assembly of doctors. You may remem- ber that with all his great abiUty.he was not the easiest speaker in the world. He said that he found himself embarrassed, that he did not know how under the sun he was to address a gathering of physicians, but he said he had been asked by his personal physician and friend, Dr. Bryant, who was then President of the Academy, to take that position, and so he would have to do the 8 Semi-Centennial of the only thing he could do, and that was to speak to that gathering of distinguished physicians from the point of view of the patient. He did so, not only with freedom but with frankness, and he told them a great many things which I am sure it was good for them to know. Now, I can hardly pretend to speak to you even from the point of view of a user of your property. But, as I was walking here this morning with Dean Bosworth and thinking of what I might say to you — and it is not a long distance from Morrill Hall to Barnes Hall — I began to wonder if I might not speak from the only point of view from which I know archi- tecture at all, the point of view of anthropology. The architecture that I studied with some technical at- tention was rather confined to the method of con- struction of the wickiup of the Indians of the South- west. But such crude forms of construction, I presume, do not enter into your particular field of study. At the same time I was forced to see — I speak now from the technical point of view — forced to study what was one of the most interesting developments of human culture; that was the building up of architecture as one of the fundamental activities of mankind. We start with certain commonplaces when we discuss primitive man; we talk about food and shelter and clothing as our starting-point on the economical basis. You can study from any angle you Hke, beginning with the simple forms, and you will go on until — I don't know whether I am saying a wholly felicitous thing — until you come to what is to me perhaps the most thrilling thing made by human hands, and that is the Parthenon on the Acropolis at Athens. Nothing else has ever given me such pride in being a man as has the thought that the College of Architecture 9 human mind and human hands have been able to construct such a thing as that. I have just one more thought to leave with you. This is the first group of the Cornell Faculty and Alumni that I have had the pleasure of meeting. I want to say to you that the particular point in the Cornell possibil- ity and opportunity that appealed to me more than anything else when your Board of Trustees was kind enough to suggest that it might be possible for me to come here as President of this institution — what was to me the deciding point was this, that you have here that perfectly unique combination of touch with the State through the State schools and freedom from dom- ination which is given by the endowment. You are able to express university education in terms of service to the people of the State, and at the same time you are allowed, as no purely State institution is today, to maintain standards, to lay out a course and hold it, with a freedom that would not otherwise be the case. I say, you have that curious combination here, which was in my own mind the deciding factor so far as I was concerned. Now, in the same way, in a great field of human activity you are working where you have, I think, one of the most peculiarly forceful combinations of motive and activity that we know. You are dealing with the intensely practical, and you are bringing in that thing without which life is barren; you are bringing in beauty. Now, it is getting the combination of these two things which makes your profession, to my mind, what it is, and I congratulate you. It is quite im- possible for me even to grasp the things you have to know, but I can see the product and I can appreciate what it means. When, then, you introduce and keep I o Semi-Centennial of the always before your clientele — and that is the world — the ideal of beauty, you are to my mind making a contribution to human culture and to human welfare that is not surpassed by any other Faculty in our university organization. It is with great pleasure that I present to you, ladies and gentlemen. Professor Emeritus T. F. Crane of this University, who needs no introduction from me. PROFESSOR CRANE'S ADDRESS I HAVE asked the Dean of the College of Architecture to allow me to say a few words in regard to the early history of the College and to revive for the occasion the memory of the three men who were instrumental in its foundation and management for the first twenty-five years of its existence. In his inimitable Autobiography Mr. Andrew D. White tells of the profound influence which a gift from his father to his mother exercised upon him as a child ten years old. It was "The Gallery of British Artists, " with engravings from pictures by Turner, Stanfield, Cattermole and others representing scenes from Shakes- peare, Scott, Burns, picturesque architecture, and beau- tiful views in various parts of Europe. Mr. White gave a copy of this work, London, 1836, to Cornell University Library. It is there today and contains Mr. White's bookplate. Probably it is the identical volume men- tioned in the Autobiography. Mr. White says: "Of this book I never tired. It aroused in me an intense desire to know more of the subjects represented and this desire has led me since to visit and to study every cathedral, church, and town hall of any historical or architectural significance in Europe outside the Spanish College of Architecture 1 1 peninsula." It was not until 1910, when he was seventy-eight years old, that he was able to visit Spain, and I had the honor and delight of being his guide from Grenada to Salamanca, and from Burgos to Gerona. Never shall I forget his enthusiasm and tireless in- vestigations, which often exhausted his younger com- panion. It is a curious coincidence that John Ruskin's life was similarly influenced by the gift to him on his tliirteenth birthday by his father's partner of Rogers' Italy, "which," he says, "determined the main tenor of my life." He adds: "At that time I had never heard of Turner — but I had no sooner cast eyes on the Rogers than I took them for my only masters. "* It is not surprising then that Mr. White in the Report on Organization presented to the first meeting of the Trustees of Cornell University, in the summer of 1865, recommended the creation of a Department of Architecture, and the appointment of a non-resident professor of that subject. No action was taken on this recommendation until 1 871. In another passage of his Autobiography Mr. White says: "Another department which I had long wished to see established in our country now began to take shape. From my boyhood I had a love for architecture. In my young manhood this had been developed by readings in Ruskin, and later by archi- tectural excursions in Europe; and the time had now arrived when it seemed possible to do something for it. I had collected what, at that period, was certainly one of the largest, if not the largest, of the architectural libraries in the United States, besides several thousand large architectural photographs, drawings, casts, models, and other material from every country in Europe. *Praeterita Lond. 190J, vol. i, p. 107. 12 Semi-Centennial of the This had been, in fact, my pet extravagance; and a propitious time seeming now to arrive, I proposed to the trustees that if they would establish a department of architecture and call a professor to it, I would trans- fer to it my special library and collections. The offer was accepted; and thus was founded this additional department, which began its good career under Pro- fessor Charles Babcock, who, at this present writing, is enjoying, as professor emeritus, the respect and gratitude of a long series of classes which have profited by his teachings, and the cordial companionship of his colleagues, who rejoice to profit by his humorous, but none the less profound, observations upon problems arising in the University and in the world in general. " In order to appreciate this last remark I may say that from 1868 to 1896 the University consisted of a number of departments equally represented in the one general faculty which met every week. It was not until 1897 that the division of the University into colleges with deans and directors took place. The new professor, Charles Babcock, was born at Ballston Springs, New York, on the a9th of March, 1829. He was one of five brothers, three of whom be- came clergymen in the Episcopal Church, Professor Babcock graduated at Union College in 1841, and studied and practiced architecture in the office of Richard Upjohn, who will always be remembered as the architect of Trinity Church, New York. In 1853 he married the daughter of Mr. Upjohn, and in i860 and 1864 took orders in the Episcopal Church. He was rector of a church at Greenwood Iron Works, N. Y., from 1863 to 1 87 1, when he came to Ithaca to assume the head of the newly created department of Archi- tecture. College of Architecture 1 3 For a time Professor Babcock was the only teacher in his department and performed his work under the trying conditions of those early years. He had to make with his own hands most of his models and other illustrative material. For many years the department had its quarters in two small rooms in the north end of McGraw Hall, moving in 1889 to Lincoln Hall. During this time the number of students increased from two to sixty-nine. In 1896 the department became a college and Professor Babcock became its first dean and director. He retained this position but one year, retiring in 1897. After that he continued to reside in Ithaca and acted as adviser to the University in matters pertaining to his profession. He died August 27, 19 13, in the house on the campus which he built and occupied for thirty-eight yedrs. He was buried at Garrison-on-the-Hudson, by the side of his father-in-law, the famous architect, in a spot of singular beauty near the walls of the little church over- looking the Hudson River. Professor Babcock was the architect of Sage College, Sage Chapel, Lincoln Hall and Franklin Hall. His architectural monument is the exquisite Memorial Chapel in Sage Chapel, which is one of the gems of Gothic architecture in this country. His taste and ecclesiastical interests inclined him to the special study of Gothic architecture, but he wa? a man of broad education and of extensive practical experience. Professor Babcock's services to the University and community were not limited to his academic teaching. When Sage Chapel was opened in 1875 the means of communication between the hill and town were scarce and infrequent, and it was difficult for the famihes of 14 Semi-Centennial of the professors living on the hill to attend the churches in the town. An Episcopal Church, St. Paul's, was or- ganized in 1874 and Professor Babcock became its rector and celebrated its rites in a wing of Sage Chapel, since removed, before and after the regular university services. Since then the Chapel has grown in size and beauty and its splendid music is famous everywhere, but to those who for eighteen years listened to the simple and solemn service conducted by Professor Babcock no memories can ever be so sweet. He baptized and married the children of his colleagues and extended the consolations of religion to those in sickness and trouble. He was a true friend and genial companion, the finest type of the Christian gentleman and scholar — ^'a type which is fast disappearing and making way for the more narrowly cultivated specialist. Fortunately his features have been preserved for his friends and the future generations of architectural students in an admirable portrait painted by one of his nieces. This portrait, presented to the College of Architecture by its alumni in grateful memory of a beloved teacher and friend, will look down from the wall of the College and faithfully represent to those who did not know him how he appeared in life. They could have no nobler or purer life for their pattern, no higher ideal of professional honor and sincerity in their work. For five years Professor Babcock conducted the De- partment of Architecture alone. Then he had, from 1876 till 1879, the assistance of Mr. F. A. Wright as instructor in architectural drawing. It was not until 1880 that an instructor in architecture was appointed in the person of Charles Francis Osborne, who was College of Architecture 1 5 born in Burlington, N, J., June 24, 1855, and received his early education in private schools in New York City. His professional training was obtained in the offices of Vaux and Withers, at that time among the foremost of American architects. The year after he came to Ithaca, Mr. Osborne was elected assistant professor of architecture, which posi- tion he occupied until 1892, when he became associate professor until 1898, when he was granted a leave of absence for a year and shortly after accepted a position at the University of Pennsylvania, where he remained until his death on December 23, 1913. The judgment of his colleagues and students on the work of these thirteen years is well expressed in the Pennsylvania Alumni Register, which says: "While as architect, writer, and editor, his career was marked by creditable achievement, it was as a teacher that he became best known and will be longest remembered. For his was the rare gift of vitalizing his subject. Under his treatment the development of architecture became not only a mirror of civilization but the mani- festation of a living and virile art, fascinating as a subject of study. As a result no courses of instruction were made more interesting than his and no instructor was more respected. Many generations of students recall him with gratitude." Mr. Osborne was a loyal friend and delightful com- panion. I knew him intimately from the time he came to Ithaca until he departed in 1908. Those were halcyon days when the history of Cornell was in the making, and the University was small enough to re- spond to individual influence. In those happy days we rode our bicycles through the splendid scenery of 1 6 Semi-Centennial of the the neighborhood of Ithaca and built our chateaux d'Espagne on every lovely site. It was my fortunate lot to be Mr. Osborne's guide to the cathedrals of England, and together we climbed the octagon of Ely and walked the "stone beam" of Lincoln. The re- wards of an academic life are from the pecuniary stand- point inadequate and unattractive. But in what other career is there such an opportunity to influence the youth of our country and to win their personal gratitude and affection? It is the duty of the University to commemorate from time to time the services of those who have served her in their generation, but it is for her students to keep alive the more personal memory of those to whom they owe a large debt of gratitude. President Farrand, addressing the audience, said: "We wel- come here today, and not less because he brings us greetings, a distinguished representative of a sister institution, and one who will speak on behalf of the American schools of architecture. I present to you Professor William Emerson of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. " MR. EMERSON'S ADDRESS THE Massachusetts Institute of Technology sends by me its greetings and congratulations to the University of Cornell on the occasion of this notable gathering: greetings and good wishes to Dr. Farrand, a valued and admired friend of many years standing, tried during the years of peace by varied and important executive responsibilities, and proved during the years of war as of the true steel that has been tempered in the fire of experience. We who have known him and worked with him will ever recall the human sympathy, the College of Architecture 1 7 inspiring impulse that followed wherever he set his hand. Such a prospect, bright and full of promise, lies before Cornell, towards the fulfillment of which the Massachusetts Institute of Technology offers a full measure of friendly good wishes. As the greater includes the less, so does the Mas- sachusetts Institute of Technology include its Depart- ment of Architecture and lend to it the lustre of its name and reputation. Proud of our contribution to its reputation, we, the oldest existing school of architecture in this country, take pleasure in bringing our congratu- lations to the College of Architecture of Cornell Uni- versity upon its fiftieth anniversary. We further take pride, as becomes the elder sister, in the maintenance by the Cornell College of Architecture of those high standards of professional and educational accomplish- ment that Professor William R. Ware, first at Technol- ogy and later at Columbia, established as the founda- tion stones upon which all sound architectural teaching should rest. That Dean Bosworth should recently have been called to direct the policy of your College of Architecture adds to our interest and confidence in its future, for he has brought to his task that sound training in principles, that rich and resourceful acquaintance with detail, that France, the great teacher, ever offers to those who worship at her shrine. We are sure that many other such anniversaries lie before you. President Farrand said: "I cannot forego a word of apprecia- tion to youj sir, for your greeting. The inauguration, however, was over yesterday. We are now come, ladies and gentlemen, to greater things, and the fiftieth anniversary celebration of the College of Architecture is a far greater thing than the inaugura- I 8 Semi-Centennial of the tion of a president. I do not suppose there can be any greater pleasure than to see in different places and at different times the products of one's own hands and brain, and I think it is that that one envies in the architect's profession more than anything else. Those of us who are outside, those of us who cannot achieve in that way, I assure you have a feeling of extreme envy. (I don't mind saying, Mr. Dean, that while I shall be very modest within these walls in regard to architecture, I am going to be proud and boastful outside. Because my business is to make the country hear what Cornell is and what Cornell means, outside I shall assume a full share of personal responsibility for everything that you do here, outside I shall have all the assurance of having had myself something to do with your work in architecture, but here I am humble.) As I said, there could not be anything more enjoyable than to be able, as the architect is, to see in different places the products of one's own hands and brain, and he whom I am about to introduce to you must enjoy that satis- faction in a measure that is given to very few men. It is a very great pleasure to present to you one of the most distinguished architects of the day, Mr. Thomas Hastings of New York." ADDRESS OF MR. HASTINGS YOUR department of Architecture was only ten years old when, having resolved to become an architect, I was called upon to choose between Cornell University and the Ecole des Beaux Arts. You are now to be congratulated upon your Fiftieth Anniver- sary. In these years radical changes have taken place, with higher standards of scholarship, vindicating the wisdom of your Faculty and Trustees. Everywhere General Education has been the subject of controversy between pedagogue and practitioner from the kinder- garten to the university. In this country it would truly seem that nowhere else has such remarkable progress been made as obtains in the methods of teaching Architecture. I venture to say that if such revolution- College of Architecture 19 ary changes had taken place in the domain of any other intellectual profession, the world would have been amazed at the results accomplished. There are princi- ples involved which are vastly broader and more far- reaching than their mere application to the study of any particular subject, and which bear a most striking re- lation to the entire question of education in its broadest aspects. It is now generally conceded that it is entirely possible to obtain a thorough education in America without going abroad, unless perhaps to supplement one's schooling by visiting those masterpieces of the old world which have survived the critical judgment of past ages and the destructive influence of time. I believe that these changes have been brought about largely because of the influence of the graduates of the Ecole des Beaux Arts upon all architectural education. The Beaux Arts Institute of Design, composed of the graduates of the Paris School, has practically brought about a centralized and co-ordinated system of com- petition or comparison between our colleges similar to what obtains physically in the intercollegiate games. In this regard Cornell has always taken the initiative. I feel that a college should communicate something of the spirit of the sportsman to the life of the student in the development of the mental as well as the physical side of his character, obtaining for him an absorbing appetite for books and mental eiertion, a form of in- tellectual curiosity which will make him rise above mere unimaginative and pedantic proficiency. In any event the college course should be considered only the be- ginning of one's schooling — teaching us primarily how to study — a mere preparation for future and never end- ing development. Alas, I find that too many practicing 2 o Semi- Centennial of the architects with increasing responsibihties in the admin- istrative side of the work too often delegate their architecture to draftsmen, neglecting the use of the T-square and triangle, hopelessly endeavoring with a soft pencil and tracing paper to impress their personahty upon an ever changing office force. The atmosphere of an architect's library and the constant use of the T-square and triangle are just as essential and as indispensable to an architect's success as are the at- mosphere of the studio, the constant use of brush and palette, to the man who would progress and become a successful painter. When you stop studying your real architectural life is ended. You can not have your Avork to do in the world without having your lessons to learn. To believe while at work that the thing you are doing promises to be your best is the surest sign of progress. Work without thought of credit or gain but only for its own sake is the one thing which really justifies happiness and awakens the deepest emotions in human consciousness, and establishes character and self-respect. Fortunate is the man who by force of habit has found in work the solace and joy of his life; he only knows how much color and richness there is awaiting him in the time for recreation or rest. Hope in success is the great dynamic force of a professional career, while optimism and strong convictions are the foundations. When you believe you can do a thing the task is half accomplished. The Scylla and Charybdis of all modern art are on the one side realism, which is only a technical faciUty of expression without design, and on the other side arch- aeological research, which has a tendency to encourage adaptation in lieu of design. We have had many College of Architecture 2 i great painters and sculptors since the realistic school of the middle of the nineteenth century, but few great artists, for this work is not art without design; one may- speak the language and have nothing to say, or be helpless without speaking the language. Since arch- itecture, with the exception of music, is the least imi- tative of the arts, adaptation is more to be feared than realism; I refer more especially to the adaptation of past styles of architecture to modern wants. So-called architectural styles are the results of slow and silent processes that have made themselves felt through the ages, and as progress in the past was the result of these processes so it should be in the future. Temperate reform with modifications moderate in form to meet changing conditions is the keynote to all true devel- opment. The life of each epoch must, of necessity, make its impress upon its architecture. Surely modern architecture should not be the deplorable creations of the would-be style inventors, the socialists, Soviets and Bolshevists who have penetrated the world of art farther than they have the world of politics, who are more concerned in promulgating an innovation than in establishing a real improvement, so-called, or Cubists, New Thinkers, Futurists, art-nouveau adherents, all unrelated to the past without thought of traditions. No more should modern architecture be the work of the illogical architect, living in one age and choosing a style from another, without rhyme or reason, to suit his own fancy or that of his client. The important and indisputable fact is not generally realized that from prehistoric times until now each age has built in one, and only one, style. Since the mound- builders and cave-dwellers, no people, until modern 2 2 Semi-Centennial of the times, ever attempted to adapt a style of a past epoch to the solution of a modern problem. In such attempts is the root of all modern evils. In each successive style there has always been a distinctive spirit of con- temporaneous life from which its root drew nourish- ment. But in our time, contrary to all historic prec- edents, there is this confusing selection from the past. Why should we not be modern and have a character- istic style expressing the spirit of our own life ? History and the law of development alike demand that we build as we live. Through prejudice, it is common to assume that, if building a church or a university, we must make it Gothic; if a theatre, we must make it Renaissance, One man wants an Elizabethan house, another wants his house early Italian. With this state of things, it would seem as though the serious study of character were no longer necessary. Expression in architecture, forsooth, is only a question of selecting the right style. The two classes with which we must contend are, on the one hand, those who would break with the past, and, on the other, those who would select from the past according to their own fancy. Style in its growth has always been governed by the universal and eternal law of development. If from the early times, when painting, sculpture, and architecture were closely combined, we trace their progress through their gradual development and consequent differentia- tion, we cannot fail to be impressed by the way in which one style has been evolved from another. This evo- lution has always kept pace with the progress of the political, religious, and economic spirit of each success- ive age. It has manifested itself unconsciously in College of Architecture 23 the architect's designs, under the imperatives of new practical problems, and of new requirements and con- ditions imposed upon him. This continuity in the history of architecture is universal. As in nature the types and species of life have kept pace with the succes- sive modifications of lands and seas and other physical conditions imposed upon them, so has architectural style in its growth and development until now kept pace with the successive modifications of civilization. For the principles of development should be as dominant in art as they are in nature. The laws of natural selection and of the survival of the fittest have shaped the history of architectural style just as truly as they have the different successive forms of life. Hence the necessity that we keep and cultivate the historic spirit, that we respect our historic position and relations, and that we realize more and more in our designs the fresh demands of our time, more important even than the demands of our environment. Compare a workman of today building a Gothic church, slavishly following his detail drawing, with a workman of the fourteenth century doing such detail work as was directed by the architect, but with as much interest, freedom, and devotion in making a small capital as the architect had in the entire structure. Perhaps doing penance for his sins, he praised God with every chisel-stroke. His life interest was in that small capital; for him work was worship; and his life was one continuous psalm of praise. The details of the capital, while beautiful, might have been grotesque, but there was honest life in them. To imitate such a capital today, without that hfe, would be affectation. Now a Gothic church is built by laborers whose one interest is 2 4 Semi- Centennial of the to increase their wages and diminish their working hours. The best Gothic work has been done and cannot be repeated. When attempted, it will always lack that kind of medieval spirit of devotion which is the life of medieval architecture. With the revival of learning, with the new concep- tions of philosophy and religion, with the great dis- coveries and inventions, with the altered political systems, with the fall of the Eastern Empire, with the birth of modern science and literature, and with other manifold changes all over Europe, came the dawn of the modern world; and with this modern world there was evolved what we should now recognize as the mod- ern architecture, the Renaissance, which pervaded all the arts and which has since engrossed the thought and labor of the first masters in art. So great were the changes in thought and life during the Renaissance period that the forms of architecture which had prevailed for a thousand years were in- adequate to the needs of the new civilization, to its demands for greater refinement of thought, for larger truthfulness to nature, for less mystery in form of expression, and for greater convenience in practical living. Out of the necessities of the times the Renais- sance style was evolved — taking about three generations to make the transition — and around no other style have been accumulated such vast stores of knowledge and experience under the lead of the great masters of Europe. Therefore whatever we now build, whether church or dwelling, the law of historic development re- quires that it be Renaissance, and if we encourage the true jprinciples of composition it will involuntarily be a modern Renaissance, and with a view to continuity College of Architecture 25 we should take the eighteenth century as our starting- point, because here practically ended the historic pro- gression and entered the modern confusion. It is interesting to notice how the architect was even able to complete a tower or add an arcade or extend a building, following the general lines of the original composition without following its style, so that almost every historic building within its own walls tells the story of its long life. How much more interesting alike to the historian and the artist are these results! We can interest those who come after us only as we accept our true historic position and develop what has come to us. We must accept and respect the traditions of our fathers and grandfathers and be, as it were, apprenticed by their influence. Without this we shall be only copyists, or be making poor adaptations of what was never really ours. Only when we come to recognize our true historic position and the principles of continuity in history, when we allow the spirit of our life to be the spirit of our style, recognizing, first of all, that form and all design are the natural and legitimate outcome of the nature or purpose of the object to be made — only then can we hope to find a real style everywhere asserting itself. Then we shall see that consistency of style which has existed in all times until the present genera- tion; then, too, shall we find it in every performance of man's industry, in the work of the artist or the artisan, from the smallest and most insignificant jewel or book- cover to the noblest monument of human invention or creation, from the most ordinary kitchen utensil to the richest and most costly furniture or painted decoration. Again, as in all times until now, there will be design 2 6 Semi- Centennial of the and not mere novelty in the carriage, automobile, or boat, as well as in the endless variety of implements of utility or amusement. We must logically interpret the practical conditions before us, no matter what they are. No work to be done is ever so arbitrary in its practical demands but that the art is elastic and broad enough to give these demands thorough satisfaction in more than a score of different ways. If only the artist will accept such practical imperatives as are reasonable, if only he will welcome them, one and all, as friendly opportunities for loyal and honest expression in his architecture, he will find that these very conditions will do more than all else besides for his real progress and for the develop- ment of contemporaneous art in composition. Never resent what at first thought may seem to be limitations and in despair try to change conditions which, if reasonable, should suggest new and interesting design. Frederick the Great said: "The great art of policy is not to swim against the stream, but to turn all events to one's own profit. It consists rather in deriving advantage from favorable conjunctures than in pre- paring such conjunctures." And when told of the death of the Emperor Charles VI, he said to a friend who was with him: "I give you a problem to solve: When you have the advantage, are you to use it or not?" The sense of beauty is as essential to human charac- ter as a sense of humor, though when not inborn it will never reach its fullest development. To teach and develop a man in this most important side of his character not only as a matter of moral uplift, but that he may also make direct use of it in his professional College of Architecture 27 career, is indeed a privilege which cannot be over-esti- mated. I have sometimes thought that an architect might be justified in increasing his fee to his cHent when he finds him entirely wanting in the sense of beauty or the sense of humor. An appropriate witti- cism at the right time has saved many an architect- ural performance. When, however, all sense of beauty is wanting, the situation is almost fatal, as the time of his association with his client is too limited to teach, develop or even influence this side of his char- acter. If the life of an epoch makes its impress upon its architecture, it is equally true that the architecture of a people helps to form and model its character, in this way reacting upon it. If there be beauty in the plans of our cities and in the buildings which adorn our pubhc squares and highways, its influence will make itself felt upon every passerby. Beauty in our build- ings is an open book of involuntary education and refinement, and it uplifts and ennobles human char- acter. It is a song and a sermon without words, it inculcates in a people a true sense of dignity, a sense of reverence and respect for tradition, and it makes an atmosphere in its environment which breeds the proper kind of contentment, that kind of contentment which stimulates true ambition. If we would be modern, we must realize that beauty of design and line in construc- tion build well, and with greater economy and endur- ance than construction which is mere engineering. The qualitative side of a construction should first be considered, then the quantitative side. The practical and the artistic are inseparable. There is beauty in nature because all nature is a practical problem well solved. The truly educated architect will never sacri- 2 8 Semi-Centennial of the fice the practical side of his problem. The greatest economic as well as architectural calamities have been performed by so-called practical men with an experience mostly bad and with no education. It is, I believe, a law of the universe that the forms of life which are fittest to survive — nay, the very universe itself, again I say — are beautiful in form and color. Natural selection is beautifully expressed, ugliness and deformity are synonymous; and so it is in the economy of life — what would survive must be beautifully ex- pressed. The pageantry of sea and sky, the starlit night, the rising or setting sun, the babbling brook, the rugged mountains and deep crevices, the bewildering beauty of the flowers, can never awaken the same human emotions and sympathy as when with art these are wedded to the weather-beaten walls, the castle or the shrine or the distant romantic village nestled in the crevice or perched on the mountain side. We must be modern. Has the world beheld in art that which we call style, changing with each age, the visible expression of man's inner consciousness, appearing above the horizon with the dawn of civilization, gradually developing in orderly sequence, one degree upon another, following the course of time? Has all this come into existence only to disappear again on the other side of the small circle of its horizon? Has history recorded its progress from dawn to twilight, unconscious of its rapid fading into the darkness of night? Or will it rise again following the natural laws of the universe? As each age tells its own story in its own language, shall we tell our story to future generations in our own way? A great tide of historic information has con- College of Architecture 29 stantly flowed through the channel of monuments erected by successive civilizations, the art of each age being an open book recording the life and spirit of the epoch, ofttimes verifying the truth of its own literature, an integral part of the whole scheme of evidence. The archaeologist thus supplements the historian, but alas, with the chain divided, the future will have drifted away from the past into a vast ocean of discord, where architectural continuity will have ceased to exist. The recently discovered buried cities of Asia Minor and North Africa give us a vivid idea of a civilization lost to history. The Pyramid of Cheops and the temples of Karnak and Luxor tell us more of that in- genuity which we cannot fathom and of the grandeur and life of the Egyptian people than the scattered and withered documents or fragments of inscriptions that have chanced to survive the crumbling influences of time. The Parthenon and the Erechtheum bespeak the in- tellectual refinement of the Greeks as much as their epic poems or their philosophy. The triumphal arches, the aqueducts, the Pantheon, and the basilicas of Rome tell us more of the great constructive genius of the early republic and the empire of the Caesars than the frag- mentary and contradictory annals of wars and political intrigues. The unsurpassed and inspiring beauty of the Gothic cathedrals which bewilder us, and the cloisters which enchant us, impress on our minds a living picture of the feverish and morbid aspirations of medieval times, a civilization that must have had mingled with its mysticism an intellectual and spiritual grandeur which the so-called Dark Ages of the historian have failed adequately to record; and in America, even amid the 30 Semi-Centennial of the all-absorbing work of constructing a new government, our people found time to speak to us, of today, in the silent language of their simple colonial architecture of the temperament and character of our forefathers. And when in the tumult of modern warfare men's passions overcome their reason, and the great monu- ments of history that have survived the ages are sub- jected to the onslaught of modern armament, let us hope they may not be further subjected to the work of the architect who would fain restore them in the style which has passed and so rob us of all that is left. Let them be protected by every device from further destruction, to tell the story of this twentieth century civilization, this vaunted culture which has failed to respect and protect its heritage. Will our monuments of today adequately record the splendid achievements of our contemporaneous life, the spirit of modern justice and liberty, the progress of modern science, the genius of modern invention and discovery, the elevated character of our educational in- stitutions ? Will disorder and confusion in our modern architectural styles express the intelligence of this twentieth century? Would that we might learn a lesson from the past — that modern architecture, where- ever undertaken, might more worthily tell the story of the dignity of this great epoch and be more expressive of our contemporaneous life! President Farrand, addressing the audience, said : "I am sure that I express the sentiments of every one, both us of Cornell and our visitors, in extending our thanks and appreciation to these gentlemen who have come to us, and particularly for this beautiful and scholarly and inspiring address of Mr. Hastings. These anniversaries, these milestones in the progress of institu- College of Architecture 3 i tions, are very precious things, but not because they afford opportunities for celebration. One is apt to feel — and it is perfectly natural and entirely right that there should be a sense of — enthusiasm for past achievement. But such occasions as this are not worth while unless they are seized upon as an op- portunity for appraising what we have and for laying out the future. For that reason I am particularly appreciative — and I know you are — of an address like that of Mr. Hastings, which I think sets the tone for a celebration such as this we are holding today. With these words I close this meeting and turn back the further celebration into your hands. " Cornell University Library NA 2300.C7 Semi-centennial ... October 21, 1921. 3 1924 016 323 135 ^A -' "#*-\^ ■ \i r -*^\7^ ?^-v^Cl^ '^--f j:^.'^- %^^^^ *-., -'If^f F-^^ ^¥i^;^%l?*-^*s' ' ^i^ ^^t-¥(^\i^" m'-M