Monastery at Large

It’s time to change your tired old story.

Category: Architecture

  • “Impressions of An Architect at the Fair” (1893) by E.G. Lind

    The following letter was originally published in the October 1893 edition of The Southern Architect, and was written by Edmund George Lind (1829-1909), professionally known as E.G. Lind, a British-born architect who spent most of his life and career in Baltimore but practiced in Atlanta from 1883 to 1893.

    Here, Lind reported on his visit to the annual convention of the American Institute of Architects in Chicago, held in July 1893, when the city was also hosting the massive World’s Columbian Exposition.

    Chicago was then emerging as the epicenter for modern architecture in the United States — led by Burnham & Root, Louis Sullivan, and Frank Lloyd Wright — and the exposition became a watershed moment for the industry, ushering in the classically-inspired Beaux Arts style that dominated American architecture for decades.

    Detail of ornament on Bayard Building – New York (1899) – designed by Louis Sullivan

    As Lind noted, the exposition was largely planned by John Wellborn Root, an architect who was born and raised in rural Georgia and practiced in Chicago with D.H. Burnham. Root pioneered the modern steel-framed skyscraper, and his only work in Georgia was the 8-story Equitable Building that was Atlanta’s first “skyscraper” when it opened in 1892.

    In the early 1890s, architecture in the Southeast was still embarrassingly behind the rest of the country, and of the dozen or so architects then based in Atlanta, only Lind and G.L. Norrman are known to have visited the Chicago exposition.

    Lind retired shortly after his Chicago visit, but Norrman immediately began incorporating elements of Chicago architecture into his designs and produced several strikingly modern buildings directly inspired by the Beaux Arts style and the works of Louis Sullivan and Burnham & Root.

    Coming from the overgrown backwater of Atlanta, Lind was clearly dazzled by the bustling city of Chicago, at the time the second largest in the United States. Here he references his visit to Burnham & Root’s 21-story Masonic Temple — then the tallest building in Chicago — and Sullivan’s Auditorium Building, then the largest building in the United States.

    For a man of the 19th century, Lind took a surprisingly progressive attitude toward women, praising the unnamed “lady architectress” of the Women’s Building (Sophia Hayden), at a time when the first wave of female architects prompted fierce opposition in the industry. Lind also noted that the women of Chicago were as “pushing and independent as the men”, concluding rather cheekily: “I like them.”

    And just to prove that some things never change: Lind marvelled that Chicago actually buried its “unsightly” telegraph lines — Atlanta still refuses to bury its utility lines.

    “Impressions of An Architect at the Fair”

    The Editor of Southern Architect:

    “When I left Atlanta for Chicago I fully intended transmitting you a prompt and faithful report of the proceedings of twenty seventh annual Convention of the A.I.A. and the World’s Congress of Architects, as well as some particulars of the World’s Fair and the city itself, but I have been in such a constant state of wonderment and weariment since my arrival, that I have felt equal to nothing except resting and getting nothing of that.

    The fact is, anyone coming to Chicago and expecting to live on in the old fashioned way will be surprised to find he has got to do two days’ work in one all the year round or he will soon be nobody and nowhere. Everything here goes with a rush. It is worse than New York. Even the women go ahead as no other women can, if they do have big feet, which I have failed to notice; they make use of them, and are quite as pushing and independent as the men if not more so. I like them.

    About the convention. I was greatly disappointed in finding so small an attendance of architects. I had expected hundreds where tens only were visible, and felt sure the great fair would bring such an abundance of architects from all parts of the world that a chance would be given of meeting many old friends, but the attendance was really slimmer than usual, while the foreign element was almost entirely wanting. One Englishman alone representing Great Britain, and a Japanese, Japan. France and Germany had representatives somewhere, but did not come within my ken. Many papers had been forwarded for reading to the convention which will be published with the proceedings in due course of time.

    Monday, the 31st of July, President Edward H. Kendall of New York, opened the convention with an address. General business was transacted, and at an adjournment the members were lunched by the Illinois Chapter, and afterwards carried around the city in four splendid tallyho coaches. With a short stop for lunch on the return trip, this outing consumed a good four hours which were enjoyed immensely, as a good opportunity was afforded of viewing the best part of the city and boulevards. These latter are as beautiful as they are abundant, no expense being spared in the decoration and maintenance. I have never seen anywhere landscape gardening in such beauty and perfection.

    Tuesday, 1st of August, at 10 a.m., another meeting of the institute was held and business closed. At 2 p.m., same day, the formal opening of the Congress of Architects took place, Mr. D.H. Burnham, chairman, reading a paper, “The Organization of the World’s Exposition,” in which he gave his deceased partner, Mr. Root, all the credit for the conception and arrangement of the buildings and general plan of the whole. More than once Mr. Root’s name was mentioned during the congress, and each time with the greatest of praise.

    Wednesday more papers and more entertaining, concluding with an excursion on the Lake to Lincoln Park. Returning later in the evening to the World’s Fair, we witnessed from the boat a grand display of fireworks, which, with the brilliant electric lighting of the Fair buildings and grounds, made a perfect fairyland of the place.

    By 10 o’clock we reached the wharf at the foot of Van Buren street, well filled for one day with lunches and sightseeing, and quite ready for rest till the morrow.

    The next three days were filled in with reading papers on various subjects relating to architecture, to very small, but appreciative audiences. Then the “World’s Congress of Architects” closed forever.

    Why is it architects display so little interest in the profession they practice and profess to love so well? Surely no other body of professional men would have manifested as much indifference as was displayed in this World’s Congress of Architects? To my mind it was both disheartening and humiliating.

    The Convention and Congress over, I felt at liberty to indulge in the World’s Fair to my heart’s content and indulged accordingly, winding up each evening by being thoroughly wound up, and retiring at night too weary even for dreams.

    It is not surprising one should become fatigued wandering about the Fair grounds, when we are reminded of the fact that Jackson Park and the Midway Plaisance, on which the buildings stand, contain over six hundred acres of land. This is no small surface to cover, and when you come to add to this the wandering in and out and up and down the various buildings, the fatigue encountered is immense.

    To attempt even a slight description of the grounds and various buildings composing the Fair would fill a volume and then fall short of conveying an adequate idea of the immensity and beauty of the whole. No expense or labor has been spared, and the results achieved probably surpass any effort ever before made in a like direction. It is fairyland, it is Aladdin’s Palace eclipsed, it is perfection, and America can afford to feel proud.

    The sight of the buildings alone was worth coming many miles to see, and I shall never feel sufficiently thankful that for once my bump of economy was overcome by my organ of extravagance, and I was led to visit this land of delectable delights, and spend time and money to so good a purpose.

    One cannot fail to be struck with the care and attention bestowed upon the grounds and shrubbery; they are kept in beautiful condition and the floral designs are splendid. I was told $4,000,000 had been laid out on these grounds previous to their selection for the Exposition, and altogether they had cost $5,000,000.

    The water front is about two miles in extent, beautifully adorned architecturally, presenting a magnificent appearance seen from Lake Michigan. In various parts throughout the grounds beautiful sheets of water are provided, symmetrically or naturally formed, adding greatly to the charm of the whole, and as some of these have boats and gondolas plying on them, the scene is bright and lively in the extreme.

    When it is considered how many architects were employed to design the various buildings composing the Exposition, it is remarkable that so much harmony should prevail as a whole. No less than ten architects (three from New York, one from Boston, one from Kansas, and five from Chicago) and architectress has fingers in this glorious architectural pie, the lady architectress being the author of the very beautiful Woman’s building, or rather ther very beautiful building for women. If any one had a doubt before of woman’s fitness for the calling of architecture, let him doubt no longer.

    On these buildings have been expended about $35,000,000. They cover twice the area of the Paris Exposition of 1889, and cost twice as much. The supply of electricity alone cost $1,000,000, furnishing 17,000 horse power for electric lighting. The supply of 24,000 horse power of steam is furnished by the largest and best arranged set of boilers ever seen, and one of the engines, the “Allis,” is twice the size of the celebrated Corliss engine used at the Centennial Exposition.

    In short, the Fair is a wonder of wonders. At every turn the eye and mind are kept going, and it only requires a sufficient number of visit for the eye and mind to be gone altogether. Just fancy, in the matter of fine art alone there are thousands and thousands of pictures, acres upon acres, which would take a connoisseur twelve months at least to examine, and yet a few days has to suffice to run them over; and here let me say while I think of it, that the United States comes out ahead in art as she has done in everything else. Only a few years ago America was nowhere from an artistic standpoint; now she is in it to stay. Some people think she will some day take the lead, I think she has already done so.

    It may be worthy of remark that more people are to be found outside the buildings than inside. The truth is the exhibits attract far less attention than the buildings and grounds. A bicyclist might ride up and down the corridors of all the buildings except the one devoted essentially to art, all day long, without inconveniencing the visitors, so few are there.

    The propriety of erecting such expensive temporary buildings for exhibition purposes may be justly subjected to criticism, since the very beauty of the former detracts from the worth of the latter; indeed it is doubtful whether in the near future exhibitions will be found in sufficient number, to furnish an exposition that will be worth visiting if this practice is adhered to. I think it is equally doubtful whether such institutions as the “Midway Plaisance” are at all helpful to the progress of arts and sciences.

    No visitor to the World’s Fair can fail to be struck with the immense crowds always to be found on the Plaisance, attracted by the numerous side shows and exhibitions with which that place abounds, most of them merely catch-penny “fakes,” and all making large draughts upon the time and purse of the sightseer. These international fairs were never intended to include such stuff, and it ought not to form any part of them, but they are there, people like it and pay for it; meanwhile the ambitious inventor and exhibitor is left out in the cold.

    I cannot close this letter without a word for the city of Chicago proper. It is a wonder, both on account of its size and the magnitude and costliness of its buildings; everything is on such a large and magnificent scale that one doesn’t begin to appreciate what he sees until he sees it in detail. After going over the floor and ascending to the top of a few such buildings as the Masonic Temple and Auditorium, he feels their bigness, and ceases to wonder that there are millions in ’em.

    Then the streets are straight and wide, and as a rule very clean for so large a city, while the principle ones are freed from those disfiguring telegraph poles so unsightly in most big cities, the telegraph wires being all put underground. The street car service is abundant and generally good, though to a Southerner, too little respect is paid to the comfort and safety of the passengers in the way of getting on and off, but one doesn’t expect everything. Then too, one is often puzzled to learn the names of the various streets for want of proper signs, which is a great evil in a city where people are in too great a hurry to stop and answer questions, and police are too invisible to be found when wanted, but will these drawbacks the visitor leaves the Windy City of the West with pleasant memories, and a thankful heart that he has escaped alive and whole, and with sufficient funds to carry him back home.”

    E.G.L.

  • W.W. Abbot House – Louisville, Georgia

    W.W. Abbot House – Louisville, Georgia – built before 1860; circa 1902 renovation designed by W.F. Denny

    Willis Franklin Denny II (1874-1905), professionally known as W.F. Denny, was an architect who practiced in Atlanta and the Southeastern United States in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

    Denny was born and raised in Louisville, Georgia (pronounced Lewis-ville), and studied architecture at Cornell University in New York. Unlike most Atlanta architects, Denny had actual talent. Like so many Atlanta architects, however, Denny died tragically — at the age of 31, following a “severe attack of pneumonia”.

    Although his brief career lasted less than 10 years, Denny was prolific. His surviving projects can be found across Georgia, with at least one work outside the state: the Theisen Building in Pensacola, Florida.

    Seven of Denny’s works still exist in Louisville, Georgia, including the Abbot House (pictured above) on Mulberry Street.

    The Abbots were the ruling family of Louisville at the time, and their name is still found on every other building in the town. Denny remade the antebellum Abbot residence with the fine Neoclassical design seen today, although a definitive date for the project is elusive.

    My best guess is that the Abbot house was renovated circa 1902, since Denny used the same design for the Fleming duBignon House (demolished, pictured below) in Atlanta, built on the corner of Peachtree and 14th Streets in 1902.

    So, which came first: the Abbot design or the duBignon design? That’s a mystery yet to be solved.

    Fleming duBignon House – Atlanta (1902) – designed by W.F. Denny

  • Joel Chandler Harris House, “The Wren’s Nest” – West End, Atlanta (1883)

    Joel Chandler Harris, “The Wren’s Nest” – West End, Atlanta (1883) – designed by Humphries & Norrman

  • “Protection Against Fire” (1893) by E.G. Lind

    The following article was originally published in the May 1893 edition of The Southern Architect , and was written by Edmund George Lind (1829-1909), professionally known as E.G. Lind, a British-born architect who spent most of his life and career in Baltimore, but practiced in Atlanta from 1883 to 1893.

    Here, Lind offered his ideas for the prevention of building fires, a chief concern for both architects and the general public in the late 19th century, when dangerous wood-burning fireplaces were the primary method of heating, and deadly fires were tragically common.

    Architects of the era were always eager to employ “fireproof” design solutions, and Lind specifically recommended the use of terra cotta flue liners in chimneys. Flue liners are now considered essential for fire prevention, yet as Lind noted, they were not in common use at the time, and would not be widely adopted until mandated by national building codes in the 20th century.

    In early 1890s Atlanta, when construction was almost entirely unregulated, the city’s leading architects frequently called for greater government oversight of the building process, due in large part to fire safety concerns. In 1890, Thomas H. Morgan, a partner of the architectural firm Bruce & Morgan complained to a reporter of The Atlanta Constitution:

    “Why take the matter of defective flues. Chief Joyner [W.R. “Cap” Joyner, Atlanta’s first fire chief] reports that last year forty-two of the fires were caused by defective flues, and the loss was $18,000. This sort of thing would be stopped if we had the right kind of building law. There has hardly been a board of building inspectors in the last five years that has not recommended to the council some sort of building law, but none was ever adopted and the thing goes on in this careless fashion. Time and again in my work of supervision I have had to make them take joists out of chimneys.”1

    In the same news article, another Atlanta architect, G.L. Norrman, offered his own design solution for the construction of safer chimneys:

    “There should always be eight inches of brick around flues where the brick touches the woodwork. It takes more brick, but it is the only safe way to build a chimney, and I always put it in the specifications. Architects, as a rule, do not build chimneys large enough. Usually they only put four inches of brick between a flue and woodwork. That is not sufficient.”1

    In this article, Lind recommended that the local government hire a ramoneur to examine and clean every chimney in the city on an annual basis. Appealing to Atlanta’s pathological need to compare itself to other municipalities, Lind noted: “The plan is in operation in other cities, and Atlanta cannot well afford to be ‘out of the swim.’”

    The city finally hired its first real building inspector in 1895 and began issuing construction permits that same year; it did not, however, hire a chimney inspector.

    “Protection Against Fire“

    “It is worthy of remark that more fires occur at the commencement and close of the cold winter months than at any other period of the year. This may be accounted for from the fact that the accumulated soot of the preceding winter, having been driven by wind and rain into corners and crevices of the chimney flue conveniently left by the bricklayer, as if “on mischief bent,” readily takes fire upon the first warming up, ending ofttimes in widespread conflagration.

    A clean chimney flue would obviate all this, but how to clean it is the question.

    It is perhaps not commonly known that zinc chips or scraps of zinc plate burned in a stove will readily cleanse the stove-pipe of all accumulated soot. The same cleansing process might be applied to ordinary fireplaces, but in the absence of all such precautionary measures, and as a valuable auxiliary, I would suggest the creation of a new officer to our city staff – that of chimney sweeper, or “Ramoneur,” which sounds better whose duty it shall be to examine every house and public building in the city during the summer months, and have each chimney flue properly swept and cleansed at a charge to the owner or tenant of say fifteen or twenty-five cents for each flue, the soot to be removed by the operator and used as a fertilizer on the neighboring farm lands, thus preventing fire consumption on the one hand and raising food for man’s consumption on the other.

    This plan is in operation in other cities, and Atlanta cannot well afford to be “out of the swim.”

    The sweeping can be readily effected by a round brush of whalebone or split rattan fitted to a bamboo rod three or four feet in length furnished with a screw joint, to which other rods may be attached, thus gradually forcing the brush up the whole length of the flue, first enclosing the fireplace opening after adding the second length of rod by means of close fitting canvas, in the center of which is a small hole for passing in the different sections of rod and operating the brush.

    When the top of the chimney is reached, which may be readily ascertained by the Ramoneur or his assistant watching outside, by working the brush well around the flue all loose soot will be detached and the brush may be gradually lowered, disjointed and packed away for future use. The soot brought down to be put into close canvas sack and removed from the premises with little or no inconvenience to the tenant.

    In some cities a wire brush is used, weighted with lead or iron, and let down from the top of the flue, instead of starting at the bottom as here recommended, but the great objection to this method is the roughness of the apparatus, which frequently detaches mortar from the sides of the flues, and opens the way for future mischief by exposing defective joints. In this connection we would remark that the best shape for all flues is a circle, and the best material for building them is vitrified clay or terra-cotta. These pipes may be made without collars or socks, should be glazed on the inside, and as they are put in place and enclosed with the brickwork they can be protected from falling mortar by a wooden mandrel or covered core, which may be removed as each fresh joint of pipe is fitted and then replaced.

    The use of terra-cotta pipe for smoke flues is no new thing. The writer, in common with many other architects, has availed himself of them for years, and it would be well if their adoption was as common as the reverse is now the case. Little or no soot can cling to a glazed surface, and the joints are so few – less than one-eighth the number in a brick flue – that risk of fire from defective work, as well as the certainty of avoiding a smoky chimney would be almost obliterated.”

    E.G.L.

    References

    1. “Eight Millions More”, The Atlanta Constitution, April 13, 1890, p. 7.

  • First Baptist Church – Greensboro, Georgia (1904)

    First Baptist Church – Greensboro, Georgia (1904) – designed by C. Walter Smith

  • “The Harmony Between Color and Music” (1884) by E.G. Lind

    The following text is the transcript of a presentation given at the 1884 convention of the American Institute of Architects by Edmund George Lind (1829-1909), professionally known as E.G. Lind, a British-born architect who spent most of his life and career in Baltimore, but practiced in Atlanta from 1883 to 1893.

    Although his work in Atlanta and the Southeast in the 1880s and 1890s was largely unremarkable, Lind was by all accounts a well-respected architect who sought to elevate the status of the entire profession, and before 1885 he was the only architect in Atlanta who was a member of the American Institute of Architects (AIA).

    Lind read the following paper on October 21, 1884, at the annual convention of the AIA, held in Nashville, Tennessee. The thesis has little to do with architecture, tenuously connecting the subjects of color and music in a meandering and mystical fashion that was popular in the late 19th century [G.L. Norrman‘s Architecture as Illustrative of Religious Belief is another prime example], and Lind makes numerous references to songs and music that are likely unfamiliar to modern readers.

    Lind further explored the topic of color in his 1892 article “Coloring of Rooms”, and in 1893, he wrote a paper entitled “A Few Words About Acoustics”, in which he stated that he designed music halls and concert rooms in dimensions based on the number 7. It’s in this paper, however, that Lind first explains his interest in the number 7, which he later referred to as “the symbol of perfection and completeness”.

    “The Harmony Between Color and Music”

    By E.G. Lind, F.A.I.A., Baltimore.

    “The harmony existing between color and music is so remarkable that it cannot fail to interest all who will give the subject a little attention, and the more it is investigated the more we shall be struck with its various correlations.

    The first quality noticeable, as harmonizing these two sciences, is the numeral one of 7. There being that number of natural colors, and the same of natural sounds. And in this connection it may be proper to direct attention for one moment to the pregnant use of this number throughout the history of the world. In the earliest writings with which we are familiar, the Holy Scriptures, it occupies a very conspicuous position, beginning with a hallowing of a seventh day as a Sabbath of rest upon earth, and ending in the pouring out of the seven vials of wrath upon the people. Pharaoh, you know, dreamed of and experienced a seven years of plenty and seven of famine, Naaman was directed to wash seven times in the river Jordan that he might be cleansed of his leprosy. Joshua besieged Jericho with seven Priests sounding seven trumpets, as during seven days they marched seven times round the walls of the doomed city. The great feast of the Jews was held seven days, commencing on the seventh day of the seven month of the seventh year. And many other instances might be cited where this particular number is alluded to. Our very existence seems to be in some mysterious way connected with it, for on the seventh day, the pulse of humanity beats slower and feebler than on the other six days. Diseases change for better or worse on the seventh day, and we are told that every seventh year our whole bodily system is renewed. Several works have been written bearing upon this special subject, and it is quite possible that 7 may be a complete and perfect number in some way governing and pervading all natural science, for it is not an unreasonable presumption that the Creator worked upon some definite plan which may form the key to the whole design.

    To proceed with our analogy [diagram exhibited of solar spectrum and colored side of music].

    In the solar spectrum we have seven colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, which we call the natural colors. In music we have seven sounds, do, re, me, fa, sol, la, and si [ti], which we term natural sounds. To form a complete chromatic scale of sound, we need five other notes, viz: do sharp, re sharp, fa sharp, sol sharp and la sharp, so that the seven natural sounds are increased to twelve. A correlation will be found in the color scale, as red merges into orange, orange into yellow, green into blue, blue into indigo and indigo into violet, so that we have complete and correspondingly harmonious chromatic scales both of music and color.

    The natural scale of do in music has been so named because the human voice is almost universally tuned in that key, and the first note of that scale, do, gives out two hundred and forty vibrations to convey the impression of that particular sound to the ear.

    In the next note, re, these vibrations are increased to two hundred and seventy, and so as we ascend the scale till the seventh note, si, is reached, when four hundred and fifty distinct vibrations are recorded. In short, the higher and more distant the note, the greater number of vibrations necessary to produce it.

    In color we find an analogy in the fact that the sensation of red is imparted to the eye by a certain number of vibrations of light, the second color, orange, by an increasing number of vibrations, and so on ascending the scale. These vibrations bearing the same harmonious correlation with reference to sound, although not the same in actual numbers, and as in sound the deeper tones are the near ones, so in color the warmer tints composed of red are made use of by artists to depict nearness and the colder greys to obtain distant effects, thus blindly observing a natural law which we have endeavored to make clear in the diagrams presented, a law, too, entirely in harmony with the law of sound.

    We have previously stated that there are seven natural colors in the solar spectrum, but in reality there are only three; red, yellow and blue, which are known as the primary colors, the other four being merely combinations of the former. In our colored scale of music it will be seen that the chord do, mi, sol is formed by these three primary colors, and as the three sounds, or chord notes, form a key to the musical composition, so the three colors are the base and foundation for the whole system of color. Red and yellow producing orange; yellow and blue, green; and blue and red, indigo and violet. As well-known the three primaries commingled make black, and if the whole solar spectrum be rotated rapidly white light is produced.

    The two sciences being so much in accord, as we have shown, it might be presumed that what would please the ear would please the eye. If, therefore, a musical instrument should be so constructed that when played upon colored sounds would be produced, then we might expect lively music to produce bright colors; said tunes subdued and secondary colors, and doleful sounds, colors of a dull and sombre hue. Nay, even the national airs of a particular country might partake of the peculiar characteristics of its people. [These different characteristics illustrated by colored diagrams of various tunes, “Yankee Doodle”, “John Anderson, My Jo”, “Bethany”, “Windham”, etc., which fully sustained the foregoing theory, and especially so in the colored tune of “Auld Lang Syne”, which bore a remarkable resemblance to a Scotch plaid.]

    In preparing the various colored diagrams illustrating this paper, it was found that a piece of music colored in accordance with the rules of color could be successfully harmonized by a person wholly unacquainted with music, so long as he understood the said rules of color, for he would only have to apply notes with primary colors in opposition to primary colors and secondary colors to secondary, and he would produced as perfectly harmonized a piece of music as if he had been fully acquainted with thorough bass.

    As a country advances in civilization so does it advance artistic taste, it is no longer satisfied with the crude colors and tones of a ruder age, it seeks a higher plane, more complex, refined and intellectual. The primary colors and sounds are supplemented by others more complicated and aesthetic; the possibilities of each science is pushed to the extreme, every combination of tone and semi-tone in music and every shade and tint in color is made subservient to higher demands, and pleasures are imparted which could not possibly have been realized in the earlier stages of civilization.

    [Diagram in illustration “Sullivan‘s Lost Chord“.]

    In short, so allied are the sciences of color and music that it is possible to give a color to every sound and a sound to every color. All the intonations of the human voice can be easily depicted in color as on a violin, there is no limit to either, and symphonies in red and green, and idyls in blue and yellow are nearer of attainment than artists ever dreamed of or hoped for. [Diagram exhibited of a “Child’s Wail” and “Lawyer’s Speech”.]

    Curious to trace the gradual development of color and music from the earliest to the present times. We examined a great number of examples of color, with the following results: Adhering to the harmonic number, 7, we selected that number of examples from many, and found that in the savage tribes the only colors known and used were red, yellow, white and black. The Egyptians added blue and green to this list, and so on upward through the Greek, Pompeian, Arabian, Middle Age and Renaissance periods there was a gradual accession of color, till in our own day we absorb all the colors of the spectrum and many more.

    Of the progress of musical sounds we have fewer opportunities for acquiring information. We know that among savage tribes few colors and sounds prevail, and these too of the most primitive characters. It is fair to assume color and music have kept on with equal step, hand in hand, neither in advance of the other so will they continue through the ages to the end, enobling and refining each other.

    One word for our own art. As “frozen music,” architecture is fairly entitled to a place beside her two lovely sisters; we have then the great civilizers of the world, architecture, music and painting, these three.

    In conclusion, it may be asked in relation this “Cui bono?” What good will it do? We cannot tell; we think it possible that these harmonies may be so utilized as to be productive of much good, if by means of seeing these colored notes the deaf mute can be made to understand something of the nature of sound, or if by hearing them a blind person can be given to understand something of the nature of color, a great good will have been accomplished; a new field will have been opened and new pleasures added to the few enjoyed, by two classes of suffering humanity whose afflictions naturally excite the kindly sympathy of all.”

  • Healy Guest House – Siesta Key, Florida (1948)

    Healy Guest House – Siesta Key, Florida (1948) – designed by Twichell & Rudolph

  • Davison-Paxon-Stokes Department Store – Atlanta (1927)

    Davison-Paxon-Stokes Department Store – Atlanta (1927) – designed by Starrett & van Vleck with Hentz, Reid & Adler

  • In the Words of G.L. Norrman: On Clearing His Name

    The background: Following Norrman’s public airing of grievances [read the first, second, and third letters], the school board discovered there wasn’t enough money to begin construction on the boys’ high school as planned. The mayor urged the board to delay the school’s construction until the following year, but the board insisted on laying the foundation for the building with plans to resume construction when funds were available.

    In recounting the events, The Atlanta Constitution said “many declared that Mr. Norrman had won his fight”, and recalled his earlier letters, stating that “many interesting epithets were scattered around.” Norrman apparently disliked the insinuation and wrote “A Pointed and Picquant Card” which was published on October 28, 1894.

    Norrman’s remarks:

    Atlanta, Ga.
    October 27, 1894

    “Editor Constitution—

    The manner of alluding to my name in Friday’s issue ofThe Constitution, I think is apt to be misleading, in regard to my attitude to the board of education. I have the highest respect for the board as a whole. Most, if not all, of its members are my personal friends, but being specially educated as an architect, and having followed the profession for twenty-five years, I do not think it can be considered presumptuousness on my part, or a mark of disrespect, that I ventured to suggest that some of the members of the board do not indicate such a high training or natural genius as to make them reliable, as either literary or artistic critics.

    Only a feeling of kindness prompted me to suggest that some of the members might fill, with honor to themselves and profit to the community, one of many pursuits which requires only personal character, but not a high order of culture. I am always pained when I see any of my friends pretend to know what they do not know, as they thereby put themselves in the attitude of filling positions for which they are not qualified.

    I never indulge in epithets—to call people names is vulgar. The occupation which I suggested to some of the members, of attending to domestic animals, is a most honorable calling. Many pursuits are more profitable, but none is more useful to the community at large, unless it be that of a scavenger. He is the true philanthropist. He does the greatest good to the greatest number, without either profit, honor or glory. On him depends all health and strength of both body and mind, throughout all civilization.

    That I did not suggest an occupation of the highest usefulness, like the latter, was not on account of any intended slight, but simply that it did not occur to me at the time.

    The only act which may in any degree reflect on the board, as far as I know, is the action of the building committee in selecting a plan which is unsafe in construction, defective in its appointments, and which will cost, when finished, $10,000 more than any other plans submitted. That the building committee should be so anxious and hasty to fasten such a defective and expensive building on the community, by wishing to start the foundation of the building this year, seems specially strange, in view of the fact that the honorable mayor went especially before the board to call its attention to the depleted condition of the municipal exchequer, and urged that the building be deferred to the ensuing year.

    Very respectfully,

    G.L. NORRMAN.”

  • In the Words of G.L. Norrman: On Boys High School, Golucke & Stewart, and Captain J.C. Hendrix (1894)

    The background: Following the publication of Norrman’s previous letters [read the first and second], Captain Hendrix of the school board issued a bland, deferential statement praising both Golucke & Stewart’s and Norrman’s work. Golucke & Stewart wrote a catty letter in response to Norrman’s criticism of the firm and their plans, concluding: “We shall pay no further attention to his malicious attacks.”

    Norrman had his say again, in an article appropriately titled “Mr. Norrman Is Mad”, published in The Atlanta Constitution on September 6, 1894. This time, Norrman’s primary target was Captain Hendrix, whom he likened to an “assistant hog drover”.

    Norrman’s remarks:

    “Why, do you know that the attempts that have been made to answer my objections to the plans selected through the public prints, have amounted to nothing. I objected to those plans first, because they were imperfect and not suitable. My objection then was that of an architect. But now that the committee has selected those plans I object to them as a citizen of Atlanta and as a taxpayer. The building erected by those plans will not only be unsuitable, but it will be unsafe. That building, I tell you, would not be safe for school purposes, and as a citizen I have a right to object to them.

    Norrman continued his rant with another letter:

    Editor Constitution—

    The card in this morning’s paper answers none of the complaints in regard to the defects in the adopted plans for the boys’ high school.

    Architecture is a combination of art and science which requires many years of study to comprehend, and any one who reflects for a moment will see how very difficult it is to learn architecture and how subtle the principles are on which it is based, as only a few can, after a lifetime study, design a building which will bear professional criticism, but only very ordinary training is necessary to see the defects which are pointed out in the design adopted for the boys’ high school.

    Captain Hendrix says in his letter that he can see no defects in the plans adopted. I never thought that he could see them. In fact, I believe that he has not the slightest conception of anything which pertains to culture, and would be a much more useful member of the community in the position of assistant hog drover to the president of the board of education than that of chairman of the building committee. I think he could see when pigs were well fed, and he would not then be in a position to waste the public funds or to jeopardize the lives of the occupants of the building.

    As to the card by Golucke & Stewart, I do not blame them for pretending to be architects as long as people will give them work in that line. The idea which I wanted to convey in the former interview was not a reflection on the competency of Golucke & Stewart as architects, but rather a reflection on the culture of those who recommended them.

    Very respectfully,”

    G.L. NORRMAN