IDEAS
FOR OUR ARCHITECTS.
(By
WILL LAWSON.)
Among
the vivid impressions received by travellers visiting California for the first
time, are the beauty of place names and the use of the Spanish mission style of
architecture in the building of homes and other buildings. And one learns, if
he did not know it already, that this is the result of the Spanish occupation
of California when Spanish priests laboured there, nearly 200 years ago,
building missions which are standing to-day, just as the sweet-sounding names
survive— Santa Barbara, San Louis Obispo, San Miguel, San Gabriel Archangel,
San Fernando, San Francisco, Sacramento—all relics of the days when Mexico
included Texas, what is now New Mexico and Arizona, and extended northward
beyond San Francisco.
The
Missionary’s Route.
At
Juarez, the old capital of Mexico, across the Bio Grande from El Paso, there is
a cathedral which is over 300 years old and has no metal work in its structure,
because there was no iron to be had. It is of adobe and wood, except for its
peal of silver bells. From such ancient backgrounds Father Juniper Serra, the
pioneer of Californian missionaries and his fellows started out to blaze a
trail which was to be known as El Camino Real—the King’s Highway —and to extend
along the coast from San Diego to San Francisco, where today stands the old
Mission Dolores, built in 1776, to be an oasis of peace, though the priests
never dreamed that a busy city would be built around it. This mission, however,
was far from being the first of this chain of memories in stone. The first
mission was built at San Diego, where Father Junipero and his helpers, who had
come overland from eastern Mexico, awaited the arrival of others who were
travelling by sea on a long roundabout course. These ships were bringing
provisions, and their late arrival caused dismay in all hearts save that of the
gallant leader. From San Diego the priests travelled on horses or mules, and at
the end of each day’s ride Father Junipero Serra dedicated a mission to be a
resting place and house of worship for other devout travellers, so that the
missions stand at distances of from 20 to 30 miles apart, depending on what
speed the worthy father made on each day’s journey. But he travelled rest
fully, since there was nothing to hurry for, with civilisation far behind and
all eternity before.
Monterey
Mission.
The
second mission was built at Monterey, on Monterey Bay, a place which was
destined to become the first capital of California. This was the San Carlo
Borromeo Mission, built in 1770. It is well preserved to-day. All the missions
erected during the first ride northward of the fathers have not survived. Some
of them were rebuilt, though in the main the patient work of the priests and
their Indian volunteers remain. They adhered to the true Spanish style of
architecture, and their work is, today, a model and inspiration not only to
Californian architects, but to New Zealand and Australian architects, too. In
modern buildings in Auckland, for example, such as the Grammar School, the
influence of the old mission style can be seen. One of the missions pictured on
this page shows distinct resemblance to the Grammar School.
The
Carmel Mission, built in 1771, was one of the first four missions to be built,
and was for years the capitol of all the missions. One of the most beautiful
buildings is that of the Santa Barbara Mission, at the city of that name.
Enclosed within its walls is a Forbidden Garden, into which woman was forbidden
to step. In the building of the missions the Indians provided the labour, and
the style was the Spanish renaissance. They were built of heavy adobe and
masonry. Indian neophytes, ready pupils of priests who were skilled artists,
painted the ceilings and carved wooden altars. Near each church was always a
graveyard, and these, too, remain to-day, some of the lettering on the old
tombstones being sometimes decipherable.
Spanish
Architecture.
The
unaffected simplicity and unostentatious grace of the old Spanish architecture
which is found in the missions, are revelations of what true artistry can be.
One cannot help wishing that some of our well-meaning builders of mansions in
New Zealand who affect this style could visit California and see for
themselves, not only the original buildings, but the beautiful modern homes,
often grouped in garden suburbs, built in the mission style and true to type,
in every detail, even to the bold colouring in bright blues, yellows, reds and
greens, with old-fashioned designs of metal work in hinges and latches and
other fittings, old-fashioned tiles and no guttering or spouting on the outer
walls. In the blazing heat of California one would expect to see wide
verandahs, such as mark the colonial type of buildings of Australia. In the
mission style, however, there were no verandahs. Instead, there were cool
colonnades, with the sun’s rays well diffused by the roofs and masonry
overhead. Often these colonnades opened on to enclosed gardens, where fountains
played. The priests knew that while the heat at times would be intense, the
weather could also be very cold, and the best way was to keep both heat and
cold out. They built as they did in Spain, for warmth in the rooms in winter,
and coolness in summer, in the latter case by shutting out the burning heat,
and letting the cool air from the fragrant courtyard drift into the rooms.
There is one perfect example of Spanish style in Australia. It is the homestead
of the station of Bar-Yugil, near Yugilbar, on the North Coast and so, few
people ever see it. Its suitability for the hot summer weather of Australia
could be seen on hot days, when the fountains played in the courtyard, over
which a striped canvas blind was stretched, and the windows and shutters on the
outside of the rooms were shut. On the inner balcony one could lean over in the
cool air, watch the fish in the fountain and smell the scents of the flowers,
while outside the temperature raged in the 100’s. How suitable for parts of New
Zealand would be this Spanish mission style! In places, except in the height of
summer, verandahs are too cold. But rooms with the sun pouring into them from
unshaded windows are delightful in winter, while in summer, the courtyard could
be a place for cool delights, even to dancing, since that attractive exercise
never flags, whatever the season.
Auckland
Star,
6 August 1932,
Page 1
No comments:
Post a Comment