Preface Architecture is a vulnerable art; like the landscape, it is subject to meddling by succeeding generations. In this respect, music and literature are more fortunate, for however much abuse or neglect they may receive, the essential integrity of the original will probably survive. This is not at all the case with buildings, and very few houses over a hundred years old have survived unaltered. In many cases, the effects of weather and pollution -- together with the additions, alterations and repairs made by several generations of inhabitants -- have changed them to such an extent that their builders would have difficulty in recognizing them. The United States still affords little protection to historic buildings, even those landmarks that are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Ownership normally confers the right to pull down anything considered obsolete or which stands in the way of future development. In contrast, Britain began serious preservation many decades ago. Starting with Scotland in 1933 and followed by England, Wales and Northern Ireland in 1947, buildings of architectural importance began to be surveyed and actively protected from unsympathetic changes or demolition. For this preservation attitude the British must thank William Morris, the instigator in 1877 of the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings. True, Morris would probably not have cared much if all the houses of the 18th century had been pulled down, but at least he brought to public attention the state of many medieval buildings which were then suffering serious neglect or were threatened with demolition. Although we think of ourselves as more enlightened today, our aesthetic vandalism is more insidious. If a roof needed railing in the 19th century, the chances are that the replacements would have been made of the same clay -- or even in the same kiln -- as the originals. The brick and stone, and even the mortar used for pointing, may all have come from local clay beds, kilns and quarries; the building materials quite literally arose from the surrounding landscape, and blended naturally with those of neighboring buildings. Nowadays there are countless substitutes on the market, and nearly all of them are visually inferior to the originals. A glance down any Victorian street will illustrate this sad decline. The roofline will probably have suffered most, with slates replaced by asbestos shingles and cast-iron gutters by plastic ones. Nor will the façades have survived unscathed; good brickwork may have been painted over or repointed in coarse cement, and wood sashes may have given way to aluminum-framed or plastic-coated windows. Each age works within the cost limits and technology of its time. The industrial components of the suppliers -- concrete tiles, plastic rain-water goods, mass-produced bricks and blocks, metal windows, flush doors and building boards -- can be seen as the only architectural currency capable of satisfying present housing demands. Houses built of these new materials are truly houses of today, and for better or worse, homes throughout the country reflect their dubious standards. Unfortunately these same materials are quite unsuitable for repairing and restoring the older housing stock in which a large proportion of us still have to live, or choose to live. The building heritage of the United States may be divided into four periods: pre-1830; the loosely categorized Victorian period, extending from the 1830's to the outbreak of World War I (1914-18); "between-the-wars;" and the post-war period from 1945 to the present day. Pre-Victorian buildings represent a very small percentage of the private housing stock. A look at properties in Cambridge, Massachusetts or Alexandria, Virginia will confirm that in urban areas Georgian and Federal houses are highly sought-after and well beyond the reach of most buyers. In smaller towns, however, they may still be found at more realistic prices. The housing of the inter-war period continued the themes of the turn of the century; it drew on the aesthetics of the Garden Suburb Movement and drew from newly published books of photographs and details of European houses to build handsome adaptations. The location of many of these houses, in well planned, close-in suburbs, makes them attractive to those who prefer contact with city life. In much post-war housing, these standards have been reduced to the absolute minimum. With the aesthetics of the Modern Movement, they house people; they keep them warm and dry, and as such they have a respectable function. For many people, however, this is not enough. More and more of us are coming to appreciate the character and craftsmanship of older houses, to value the special atmosphere of a place that has been lived in for generations and to take pleasure in the wealth of architectural detail so lacking in more modern homes. And of the earlier housing stock, a large and accessible proportion will have been built in the 19th century. In the United States alone, it is estimated that more than five million houses were built during Queen Victoria's reign. "Victorian" -- the very word that was shunned for years by real-estate agents -- has now become a positive selling adjective. This has its ironic and even absurd aspects, but it is also an accurate gauge of public opinion. Real-estate agents may like to believe that they lead trends, but in reality they merely reflect the changes in public taste. In the United States, in Britain and on the Continent, the real trendsetters have been artists, followed by architects and craftsmen. Greenwich Village, Chelsea and the Left Bank were all infiltrated by artists and poorer professionals such as architects, who wanted homes with some character and were able and willing to renovate a run-down property. They created a pleasant and lively atmosphere which attracted the richer professionals and pseudo-artists -- lawyers, bankers, advertisers and public relations people. In due course, the new arrivals pushed up the prices, forcing the artists to look elsewhere; in London the move was northwards to Islington, in New York to SoHo, and in both these districts the pattern is now repeating itself. Nostalgia may be an element of the charm which Victorian buildings hold for us, but it can be a misleading quality. We can only see Victorian houses through 21st-century eyes, and cannot transport ourselves back to the aesthetic, moral and social climate of more than a hundred years ago, any more than the Victorians could feel empathy with the Georgian era. Their dislike of 18th-century architecture was echoed in our own age by the condemnation of Victorian taste by many "enlightened" people until quite recently. This was a natural enough reaction. The generation which knew at first hand the darker side of 19th-century life -- the grinding drudgery of factory life or the suffocating respectability of a middle-class Sunday -- felt little nostalgia for the period. After World War I, the blueprint for the Modern Movement in architecture often called the International Style - was drawn up. Its basic tenets -- austerity, the absence of ornament and the simple lines created by the machine tool -- were the antithesis of everything Victorian architecture stood for. The widespread building after World War II allowed the architects of the International Style to put their ideas into practice on a large scale, and the urban renewal that followed saw many old buildings swept away as the impractical, squalid survivors of a recent, unloved past. With the passage of time, however, the art and architecture of the Victorian age can be reviewed in a more sympathetic light. The new theories, case studies and aesthetic polemics have failed to solve the problems of society, and are actually felt by many to have aggravated them. High-rise building has come to be seen by some as a blight on the landscape, a hostile and impersonal environment that does little to foster human values or community spirit. Victorian houses, in contrast, no longer strike us as gloomy and forbidding but as cozy and cheerful. The appeal of 19th-century housing is based on much more than bricks and mortar, but a house must, first and foremost, provide a sound and practical place in which to live. There are people in England who have turned the restoration of their Victorian house into a rigorously purist exercise, creating something akin to a museum-piece, but in the end they are left in a period cocoon. Their gaslight, coal boilers, tub baths and belfast sinks may be irreproachable, but nothing will stop the world going on its way outside. Cars will pass in the street, not carriages, and their children will come in wearing jeans, not pinafores. What is important today is not so much the pursuit of total authenticity as finding a balance which reconciles our own way of living with what is valuable in Victorian style and decoration. Gaslight, with its gentle hiss and mellow tone, is most attractive, but electricity is more convenient; Victorians would not have used a coffee table, but having one may suit the way we live. The degree to which we shape a period house to modern requirements is a highly individual matter; to accomplish this with tact and sensitivity does not require textbook knowledge so much as a feel for Victoriana that can be acquired through familiarity. This book is intended to give the reader just such an acquaintance with the developments of Victorian style. Our aim has been to show what Victorian houses were like, and why, and to show how they may be adapted to modern living without loss of character. The photographs illustrate houses that have been decorated in a wide variety of Victorian fashions and complementary modern styles. The black and white line illustrations give accurate details of a huge range of Victorian hardware, woodwork, plaster moldings, door furniture and other fittings and furnishings. The chapters lead you through the house, from its foundations to the decorative details of each room. The information is organized in approximately the order that a homeowner contemplating a plan of repair and decoration will find useful background history in Chapter 1, structural and building information in Chapter 2, interior architectural detailing in Chapter 3, followed by decoration of the public and private rooms in Chapters 4, 5 and 6. Finally, Chapter 7 takes you out into the garden. Technical advice is given in Chapter 8 for those who want to undertake restoration work themselves, or want to be able to talk to architects, surveyors and builders on something like equal terms. A list of suppliers provides information on where to find period fittings and decorations, both genuine antiques and authentic reproductions. Nothing demonstrates better the renewed interest in Victorian domestic architecture than the resurgence of manufacturers, craft studios and designers covering virtually every aspect of period restoration. This book is itself an expression of that renewed interest, and is addressed to all those who, disillusioned by sterile modernism, are seeking to make their home into a haven; not a precious or purist re-creation of the past, but a shelter in the best sense of the word, comfortable and welcoming. Excerpted from The Victorian House Book: A Practical Guide to Home Repair and Decoration by Robin Guild All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
