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This paper looks at the case for studio design work taught in a unit system at Diploma/RIBA Part II level to be considered as a fundamental tool of research with a direct contribution to contemporary architectural practice. A case study of unit proposals for one year at the Architectural Association School of Architecture in London and its subsequent adoption by practitioners is used to illustrate the discussion.
In connection with the Scharoun Exhibition held at the RIBA last February, Peter Blundell Jones and Nasser Golzari organised a one-day symposium about Scharoun and his influence. Among the invited speakers were Friedrich Mebes, whose contribution we published in the first issue of arq, and Günter Behnisch, the leader of the most distinguished German firm that could be said to follow the Scharounian spirit today. Behnisch & Partners first rose to world fame with the Munich Olympic buildings of 1972, but it has gone on to complete such prestigious works as the new Bonn Parliament, the Frankfurt Post-museum and the University Library in Eichstätt. Behnisch was invited to speculate on his relationship with Scharoun, and more generally on the master's influence in Germany today.
Developing a new building type raises questions of accommodation appearance and cost. This paper sets in context the emergence, development and decay of one highly specialised and localised building type – the purpose-built coroner's court which appeared in the metropolis in the 1870s. Surviving references suggest how far the existence and the details of the coroner's courts owed to a particular and short-lived combination of procedural requirements, administrative wrangles and social pressures.
This essay explores the problem of creating a contemporary architecture for a rural setting with a strong indigenous character. It focuses on a series of three inter-related projects, designed by a team which includes the author, for the village of Calver in the Derbyshire Peak District. One of these projects, ‘The Orchard’ is presented in some detail to illustrate the investigation of an architecture that can be simultaneously cognisant of both broad cultural ideas and rooted to the specifics of a local cultural context.
The records of church councils bear witness to the presence of ecclesiae incastellatae across the medieval landscape. The relatively common medieval practice of fortifying churches may appear paradoxical to our modern sensibilities, which tend to regard castles as secular, functional creations of feudalism, and churches as more symbolic expressions of medieval spirituality. Indeed, castles and churches are seldom considered together in the literature on medieval architecture and are normally examined by different scholars. Contrary to the rather arbitrary division of modern scholarship, however, the two sets of monuments were often closely related, sharing common patrons, technological innovations, and designs. Evidence of this association is readily available in contemporary texts as well as in surviving buildings. Patrons responsible for the construction of both military and ecclesiastical buildings can be identified from documentary sources. Gundulf, bishop of Rochester in the late eleventh century, for example, supervised the construction of both the Tower of London and Rochester Cathedral. His contemporary, Benno II, bishop of Osnabrück, is also credited with both castle and church projects. The forms and techniques of single-nave plan, thick-wall construction, intramural gallery passages, stair vises, machicolation, and crenellation, are often shared by castle and church buildings.
Nowhere can this fusion of the secular and religious realms be seen more clearly than in the twelfth-century fortified churches of Maguelone, Agde, and Saint-Pons-de-Thomières. As hybrid fortress-cathedrals and abbeys, these buildings have seldom been incorporated into the history of either ecclesiastical or military architecture.
The fortress-churches of Maguelone, Agde, and Saint-Pons-de-Thomières were integrally involved in the political, social, and religious developments of mid-twelfth-century Languedoc. As three of the major cathedral and abbey churches of the region, they attracted important patrons and resident clergy, hosted kings and popes as visitors, amassed great wealth and prestige, and commissioned impressive architectural complexes. Though other churches and abbeys in the region may have shared their importance and their military aspects, the survival at these three great churches of both documentary and physical evidence of their mid-twelfth-century phases permits a fuller analysis than is possible for other buildings. We will focus in this chapter on a full “reading” of the fabric of each building as well as of the relevant archival sources for each community. In this endeavor we will make frequent reference to primary material. Resumés of the building histories of Maguelone, Agde, and Saint-Pons, from their foundation to the twentieth century, precede the more detailed analysis of the twelfth-century phases of each building. In this regard, we will discuss in detail the observations recorded in the new surveyed plans, measured elevations, and analytic section drawings produced for this book. The most important texts have been assembled in the Appendixes in both the original Latin as well as in new English translations. Identification of the twelfth-century phases of Maguelone, Agde, and Saint-Pons is only possible through detailed analysis of the buildings, careful reading of the archival sources, and critical reevaluation of the secondary sources.
I will say of the Lord: He is my refuge and my fortress.
(Psalm 91.1)
The link between religious refuge and fortification invoked in Psalm 91 was a potent connection during the medieval period. Many religious establishments, whether they were simple parish churches, cathedrals, monasteries, or even cemeteries, were commonly surrounded by a wall or ditch and were often provided with crenellations, iron-barred doors, fortified gates, and other elements of military defense. Under the Peace of God in the tenth and eleventh centuries (and revived in the twelfth century), churches, cemeteries, and other consecrated sites received formal rights of protection. In what was almost a physical realization of Psalm 91, a place dedicated to God acted as a fortress for those in need of refuge.
The decision to fortify a church was, however, not a matter of simple choice for the clerical patron. Permission needed to be sought and granted by the royal, local, or municipal authority. Beginning in the ninth century, permission to fortify was granted to religious patrons by the Carolingians and by their Capetian successors. Italian and German monasteries were also granted the right to build and to own fortifications from the ninth century. Licenses to crenellate were issued by the English chancery as early as the year 1200. Charles Coulson's study of these licenses demonstrates that monastic and episcopal patrons were every bit as eager for the privilege to fortify their buildings as were their secular counterparts.
The pressures that inspired ecclesiastical fortification in twelfth-century Languedoc were multiple and interconnected. The textual records for Maguelone, Agde, and Saint-Pons-de-Thomières describe threats from “Saracens,” pirates, heretics, and foreigners, beginning in the eleventh century. The Chronicon for Maguelone, for example, speaks of fear of Saracen pirates at Maguelone during the late-eleventh-century episcopacy of Arnaud:
In the time of the Lord Arnaud, bishop of Maguelone, the church at Maguelone was not inhabited, out of fear of the Saracens. For there was a seaport… through which Saracen galleys had free access to the island, and frequently carried off from there whatever they might discover. And there were four chaplains assigned there who… celebrated Mass there, but lately do not dare to be at church out of fear of the pirates.
(Appendix 7)
Suger of Saint-Denis expressed similar concerns after his visit to the abbey in 1118. In his Life of Louis the Fat, he reports that Maguleone is
a tiny island in the sea, for which there sufficed with single bishop and priests, a scanty and contemptible household, unique and isolated, … nonetheless very well fortified … with a wall because of the attacks by sea of the roving Saracens.