Decorative details

Recently, we completed Phase 1 of a new postgraduate hub at Wits University, and in the process, we inadvertently "framed" a curious detail at the back of the very first building on campus, built in 1922. From a distance, one may have a sense that the tops of the pilasters are decorated, consistent with the Neoclassical detailing of the rest of the building, but one might assume that it is simply a slight variation of the front portico.

Wits Robert Sobukwe building south side

While the other sides of this building have very standard Neoclassical details - Corinthian columns to the iconic front facade, flanked by Renaissance inspired window and door surrounds, the architects were more adventurous at the back.

Detail of the capital

From the second floor of the much more recent Solomon House, we can more clearly see that the capitals to the pilasters are stylised proteas, a nod to the South African location. This "back" facade would have been very visible to pedestrians and vehicle drivers for the first 50 years of the building's life, warranting the care and expense taken over this side. Now, students working on their research have the view of these proteas at eye level - way more inspiring than a blank wall.

One of the other original buildings on this campus, starting life in 1922 as the first Engineering Building, likewise has some interesting features on the "back". This is also obscured somewhat by the Hillman Building of 1942, creating a narrow alley between. While the view of the older building is now very strained, I get wonderful glimpses of its detailing from the staircase to my office.

A rainwater head of the Engineering Building

It is interesting to reflect on why architects and craftsmen would have put so much care and effort into elements that are so high above eye level that they cannot be clearly seen from ground level. Many of the typical Neoclassical details have a long history that can be traced to Ancient Greece. While there have been many theories of how their detailing originated, it is interesting to think that one of the most beautiful examples of their sculpture, the frieze of the Panathenaic Procession, would have been completely invisible to the viewer!

Part of the Panathenaic Procession, Parthenon, Athens
Creative commons licensed: https://www.worldhistory.org/article/780/the-parthenon-sculptures/

This said, over time, much of pre-Modernist detailing had very practical purpose, often obscuring a difficult junction or creating a joint between two different materials - a notorious place for cracking, as I mentioned in last week's blog. 

In their quest for an aesthetic that was completely streamlined and unadorned, Modernist architects often had to come up with detailing that was either very expensive or very difficult for the building team. This example of a column from the Barcelona Pavilion by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe is case in point - the actual structural member is encased in two additional layers of materials to make the metal column fire-proof, with the outermost layer imitating the innermost "actual" column by using the same material of steel.

A postcard showing the plan detail of a column in the Barcelona Pavilion by Mies van der Rohe

A simpler, yet still "dishonest" detailing can be seen on the Hillman Building at Wits. I use the harsh term "dishonest" because one of the rallying cries of the Modern Movement was "honesty to materials" Here, a reinforced concrete column is clad in mosaic tile - less dishonest than the Barcelona pavilion in that the mosaic is clearly appliqued on, but no doubt this was an effort to disguise the difficult joint between column and beam that would have been a nightmare to the builders.

Columns on the Hillman Building, Wits University

Many of the buildings we see today have detailing that is not a direct reflection of the manufacturing process - the architect designs to suit the aesthetic, and the fabricator or contractor has to make the best of it. By contrast, buildings from the past, in many parts of the world, were designed and built by one and the same person, or a tightly knit team: creativity and practicality worked hand-in-hand. Perhaps, as we strive for more sustainable construction practices, there may evolve a new level of collaboration between designer and maker, one that minimises waste and extends the useful life of buildings through more robust detailing.