A HISTORY OF ARCHITECTURE Settings and Rituals SPIRO KOSTOF‘Oxford University Press Osird_ New York ‘hens Auckland Bangkok Bombay Caleuta Cape Town Dares Salam Delhi Florence "Hong Kong anbul Karachi Kuala Limur Mads Madnd Melbourne ‘Mexico City Navobi Pars Singapore Taiper Tokyo Toronto and associated companies in Bern tadan Copyright © 1985, 1995 by Oxford University Press, Inc Published by Ostord University Pres, Ine, 198 Maio Avenue, New York, New Yr 10016-4514 Oxiordi 2 registered vademark of Oxiord Univesity Press Al sights reserved. No par of his publication may be reproduced, sored ia teieval syste, o wansmited in any orm ot by any means, ‘econ, mechanical, photocopying, recording. o otherwise, without the prior persion of Oxird University Press Library of Congress CatalognginPublcation Oats Kost, S040. | histor of architecture: stings adits / pio Kostot conginal ramings by Richard Tobias 2nd ed. revision by Greg Castil, Pam. Includes index. 'SBN-13 978-0-19-508578-1; 978-0-18-508379-6 (pbk) 1. Architecture History 1. Casilla, Greg. Tite Naz00K65 1995" 720'9-de20. 9438787 coms 10 Protein the Unitas States of America ‘on acc-ree paperPREFACE ‘This book is something of a compromise. Ieis a general survey of architectural his: tory that tries to reconcile the traditional grand canon of monuments with a broader, ‘more embracing view of the built environ ment It does so by making no strict distinc tions between architecture and building, between architecture and urbanism, bs ‘ween high cultures and low. Hagia Sophia and Versailles are here, but so ate igloos and nineteenth-century malt-kilns; the du: ‘al palaces of Urbino and Mantua ate dis: ccussed within the larger frame of the city tommy; the Romans share their chapter with their “barbarian” adversaries, the Dacians, and the tribes of the sub-Sahara, | wanted to tla story—the epic story of humans taking possession of the land and shaping, communities through the act of building. The aims are set out in Chapter 1, al inclusiveness is not one of them. | had to confine mysel 10 a relatively small number Of sites and buildings in order to be able to ook at them in some detail. It was impor tant that this treatment of selective places be full. Architectural style comes in of course; that was the core of my training, But Tam as concerned with use and structure and urban process, with motivation and ritual sequence. 1 would not be at all un- happy if the book were to be seen as an ‘offering of cultural history Despite its seemingly ecumenical reach, this cannot claim to be a world history of architecture. That task would entail a fat balance in the account of architectural 13 ditions in all ages and on al continents. We are preoccupied with our own Western tradition. ven with the most permissive attitude, other cultures stand as foils to this, perhaps inevitable sell-absorption, My lin ‘ted goal was to resist presenting the West- fer achievement as if it were an insulated and wholly logical progression, We have always been bound up with other lands; and the order we have created gains in un. derstanding when itis assessed in the light of alternate orders. As a symbolic recog tion ofthis interdependence, | have avoided discussing non-Western traditions tidily in their own individual chapters. It seemed to me that the excitement of controntation might outweigh the obvious advantage of Separate linear nartaives. So | have brought together medieval Florence and Cairo, Pal: ladio and Sinan, ‘ have also committed one further breach ‘at historical practice. In order to keep the discussion of one place intact, | have into: ‘duced some architects ahead of their sect chronological slot. | hope old hands will not bbe unduly distressed to meet Giulio Ro- ‘mano at Mantua belore they meet Bra ‘mante in Rome. Through the years, Richard Tobias has been a steady collaborator. This is as much his book as itis mine, His drawings go be: yond mere illustration. They strengthen and any the approach of this historical sur. vey, ad they convey information far in ex cess of the limits of the text We agreed on some things at the begin- ing and stayed with them. Except when they remained diagrammatic, all plans would be oriented toward the north, They ‘would also indicate setting—land contours ‘or neighboring structures. Where possible this setting is original to the building. In cases where we could not reconstruct what was there at the time, say for Chaves Ca- thedral or the imperial kullies of istanbul, ‘we settied for the best premodern context ‘we could find. Finally, we wanted to con- vey the sense of the siow, accretive devel- ‘opment of familiar monuments and sites by showing in sequence the principal sages in their planning history. The multipart draw- ings of Karnak and the Piazza San Marco are examples. It should be self-evident that a history of this kind reaps the collective effort and wisdom of schelars in several fields. Since the mature of the book precluded the cus- tomary apparatus of notes and extensive bibliographies, 1 must acknowledge my fenormous debt to them all here, a debt which in a number of cases approaches dependence. | must also single out atleast some among he many colleagues and friends who offered help at various stages ff the project: Mare Teeib, Andrew Stew: art, Walter Horn, Stanley Saitowitz, Hsia CChu-loe, and lan’ Roberson-Smith. Readers (of drafts include Christian Ono, Richard C. Carrot, Osmune Overby, Christopher Mead and Henry A. Millon, A most patient and sym pathetic review came from Elizabeth M Brown; her serutiny improved the book tang bly, and 1am de-ply grateful to her. The long process wore out several assist: ants. will always remember them with gratitude: Wendy Tsuji, Deborah Robbins, Michael Brooder, Carol Silverman, who valiantly tackled ‘the index, and. D'vora Treisman, In the final stretch, Mari Ade- ‘gran and Susan Shoemaker lent their skill Yo the complet on of some of the draw: Ings. To Doughs MacDonald, | owe the most. He has worked long and hard on sources, illustraions, and the glossary, and ably served a liaison withthe publisher. On that side, our maim ally was Kathy Kuht2. My fond thanks alse to my editors, irs, James Raimes, who took the project through its critical starting phase almost ten years ago, and, more recent, Joyce Bey To my student, past and future, this book {is fondly dedicat-d: it was weitten with them foremost in mind Berkeley Sk. October 1988| | PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION In May 1991, Spiro Kostof delivered his last lectures for ""A Historical Survey of Architecture and. Urbanism’—the lang running course at the University of Cali fornia at Berkeley that some twenty years earlier had provided a springboaed for the first edition of this book. The final lec- tures, covering the state of affairs from after World War Il to the present, had been thoroughly revised 2 year earlier, land Professor Kostof felt that they were 2 ‘great improvement. His enduring goal had been to construct an architectural history that avoided “strict distinctions between archirecture and building, between archi tecture and urbanism, between high cul: tures and low.” The closing chapter of the first edition of A History of Architecture, written in the early 1980s, fell short of that resolution, having shrunk in scope to 2 review of “the works of the masters,” just the kind of history he had set out to challenge Inthe years following the publication of this book’s first edition, Professor Kostof undertook projects that confronted archi- tecture’s current events head-on. These included America by Design, a 1987 PBS series and a companion publication of the same name, as well as The City Shaped and The City Assembled, a two-volume study of urban form and its social mean ings. Both efforts sent him traveling 10 sites that embodied the exceptional as well as the ordinary in late-twentieth- Century environmental design. The surer footing gained from this research was evi dent inthe updated lectures for Berkeley's survey course, and a revised edition of A History of Architecture incorporating these changes was put on the calendar as his next assignment. In June 1991, Spiro Kostof was diag- sea. nosed with cancer. He died six months later at his home in Berkeley. As his re- search assistant of five years’ standing, | was asked to prepare the manuscript of The City Assembled for publication, Soon aterward, | decided t0 take on, as well, Professor Kostot’s planned revision of 4 History of Architecture. In both cases, | have attempted to chart a conservative ‘course, limited wherever possible to re constructing his arguments and the spir- ited style with which he addressed them. Professor Kostof’s working methods ‘greatly simplified my task. His habit was to prepare complete scripts for his lec: tures, which he then would commit to memory. These typescripts established the narrative framework and basic text for the final chapters of this edition. Another use- {ul resource was the collection of lecture Videotapes now archived at Berkeley's Bancroft Library. Kostof’s lectures were recorded in 1990 and 1991, ostensibly for the benefit of students who had missed class, but just as much to give him the opportunity to review and fine-tune his performance. More than one digression from his script, as documented on tape, has found its way into this edition. None- theless, the text of a lecture, however pol: ished, is not that ofa textbook. Whenever a site or atopic glossed in class demanded more detailed description, | have added it, following the vector and tenor of Kostof's argument to the best of my abilities. For their help in refining the finished text, | must thank Karl Weimer, as well as Gary Brown, Marta Gulman, Kathleen James, Roger Montgomery, and Steven Tobriner all at Berkeley's College of Environmental Design. Richard Tobias, Professor Kostat's original collaborator on illusteations for this publication, again contributed his skills and patierce. | also owe a debt of iratiude to Nezar Al Sayyad, Travis Amos, Ken Caldwell, Sam Davis, Diane Favro, Alan Gottlieb, Alan Hess, Carol Hershelle Krinsky, Emily Lane of Thames and Hudson, Nina Libeskind, George Loisos, Christopher Mead, Jean-Pierre Protzen, Matyly snow and Ciaire Dannen- baum of Berkeley"s Environmental Design Slide Library, Stephen Tobriner, Susan Ubbilohde, Dell Upton, and Fikret Yegul for their help in assembling photographs for this second edition. Kathryn Wayne land Elizabeth Byrne of the Environmental Design Library at Berkeley were, as al ‘ways, generous with their assistance. And Joyce Berry of Dxlord University Press, now @ veteran of three Kostof publica: tions, again proved her considerable edi torial and diploriatic talents. Every effort ofthis sort deserves a dedi cation. In keeping with my role as the facilitator rather than the author of this volume, I will defer on that count to Pro- fessor Kostof, whose meditations were captured on videotape in May 1991 in one (of hi final public Fectures. Last week was the last lecture of the great Vincent Scully: a trie mind, 3 terre image nation. His coutse closed after being taught Since the early 1910s, He retired unvilingly He wanted 10 g0 on and on until he dies, 35 most of us do. For whatever it's worth, | dedi ate these final lectures to him, my one-time teacher, longtime adversary, anda man who Aid more for archi ectural history than most of 1s put together Berkeley Cctober 1994 9CONTENTS PART ONE A Place on Earth ‘THE STUDY OF WHAT WE BUILT, 3 The History of Architecture, 3 8 The Total Context of Architecture, 7 THE CAVE AND THE SKY: STONE AGE EUROPE, 21 The Beginning, 21 Old Stone Age Architecture, 23 The Cave at Lascaux, 23 9. New Stone Age Architecture, 26 The Temples of Malta, 32 Stonehenge, 37 |. THE RISE OF THE CITY: ARCHITECTURE IN WESTERN ASIA, 43. The Urban Revolution, 43 Slirrings of Urban Consciousness, #4 The Cities of Mesopotamia, 50 10. THE ARCHITECTURE OF ANCIENT EGYPT, 67 The Land of Egypt, 67 Tre Burial of Kings, 71 Tre Time of the Gods, 79 Survival of the Egyptian Temple, 88 BRONZE AGE CITIES: THE AEGEAN AND ASIA MINOR, 91 Asia Minor, 91 Mycenaeans and Minoans, 99 The Closing of the Bronze Age, 112 THE GREEK TEMPLE AND “BARBARIAY 2 ALTERNATIVES, 115 The Passing of the Bronze Age, 115, The Emergence of Greece, 117 The Greek Temple, 120 POLIS AND AKROPOLIS, 137 Athens and Her Empire, 137 The Shape of the Polis, 138 Athens—'The Eye of Greece,” 146 ‘THE HELLENISTIC REALM, 161, The New Order, 161 The Hellenistic Temple, 168 Religious Settings, 170 The Noble Metropolis, 174 ROME: CAPUT MUNDI, 191 Early Roman Architecture, 191 Components of a Roman Town: Pompeii, 194 The Look of Empire: Rome at the Millennium, 207, THE WORLD AT LARGE ROMAN CONCURRENCES, 217 The Roman Cosmos, 217 Beyond the Empire, 219 The Other Ancient World, 225 ‘A Continent Alone, 233 PART TWO, Measuring Up THE TRIUMPH OF CHRIST, 245 ‘The Turning Point: Third-Century Rome, 245 Housing the Kingdom of Heaven, 253 The Primacy of Constantinople, 260 THE MEDITERRANEAN IN THE EARLY MIDDLE AGES, 209 The Decline of the West, 269 Carolingian Restoration, 274 The Empire of Muhammed, 28416, v. 18 19, THE BIRTH OF NATIONS EUROPE AFTER CHARLES, 295 Europe from Charles to Otto, 295 The Eleventh Century, 298 ‘The Romanesque Church, 305 Halian Counterpoint, 314 THE FRENCH MANNER, 323 ‘The Romanesque and Opus Modernum, 323 Chartres, 333 Gothic Abroad, 341 THE URBANIZATION OF EUROPE, 1100-1300, 349 The City Returns, 349 Bourgeois Architecture, Public and Private, 355 ‘An Urban Contrast: Cairo and Florence, 363 EDGES OF MEDIEVALISM, 375 Florence at the Crossroads, 3 The City Center, 376 Europe in the Fourteenth Century, 386 ‘Aging Traditions Abroad, 394 THE RENAISSANCE: IDEAL AND FAD, 403 The First Advance, 403 The Prince and the People: Patronage in Northern Italy, 412 The Italianate Craze, 428 SPAIN AND THE NEW WORLD, 433 The American Scene, 433 The Spanish Scene, 442 ISTANBUL AND VENICE, 453 A Turkish Renaissance, 454 The Consummation of Venice, 468 THE POPES AS PLANNERS: ROME, 1450-1650, 485 Making the City Whole, 485 A Pasture for the Bodily Senses,’” 496 ABSOLUTISM AND BOURGEOISIE: EUROPEAN ARCHITECTURE, 1600-1750, 511 ‘The Roman Baroque, 511 France: The Grand Siécle, 527 ‘The Face of Protestantism, 538 CONTENTS 2B, 27. 28. 29. PART THREE The Search for Self ARCHITECTURE FOR A NEW WORLD, 5 Europe in Ferment, 547 A World to Choose From, 553 Form and Reform, 565 ARCHITECTURAL ART AND THE LANDSCAPE (OF INDUSTRY, 1800-1850, 571 ‘A Matter of Styles, 571 The tron Age, 594 THE AMERICAN EXPERIENCE, 605 Colonial Dependence, 607 Architecture for a Nation, 617 Greece for All Seasons, 629 VICTORIAN ENVIRONMENTS, 635, The Gilded Age, 635 Victorian America, 647 THE TRIALS OF MODERNISM, 669 Urban Choices, 669 Toward a Twentieth-Century Architecture, 680 ARCHITECTURE AND THE STATE INTERWAR YEARS, 695 The 19205, 695 ‘The Other Side, 707 ‘The Language of Power, 717 THE ENDS OF MODERNISM, 721 Reconstruction, 721 Postwar America, 724 DESIGNING THE FIN-DE-SIECLE, 745, Success and Failure, 745, Recovering the Past, 748 Illustration Credits, 763, Glossary, 767 Index, 776PART ONE A Place on EarthTHE STUDY OF WHAT WE BUILT The History of Architecture A history of architecture is both less and more than a grand tour. It does not have the immediacy of walking through the streets and public places of towns as diverse a5 Isfahan and London, or stepping into Covered spaces that range in mood from the dappled, swarming tunnels of Muslim suqs to the single-minded sublimity of the Pan- theon in Rome. (Figs. 1.1, 1.2) That is how architecture is meant to be known. As the material theater of human activity, it truth isin its use. ‘Although a book such as this cannot stand in for “the foot that walks, the head that turns, the eye that sees,” as Le Corbusier ‘once described the experience of architec- ture. if has its own deliberate advantage. For fone thing, the book is a compact word. It lets one shift in minutes from Mesopota- ‘mia to Peru. Then, it is panoramic. The jeer who leats through its not unlike the fone figure in this nineteenth-century painting by Thomas Cole entitled The Ar chitect’s Dream. (Fig. 1.3) The figure re lines luxuriously on top of-a column of Classical inspiration; before him, past tra- ditions of buildings are composed grandly, like a hybrid movie set. Time isthe river that flows toward him, and om its banks are ined the familiar forms of his professional vi- sion: the pyramids, battered walls, and plant columns of Egypt; Greek temples and Ro- man aqueducts; and closer still, outlined against the glow, the pinnacles and lance- like towers of medieval Christendom. He is an architect, and what he looks upon is the idealized heritage of his craft. He could ‘draw from this vast and varied wealth, as hineteenth-century architects did, to give Shape to ‘contemporary buildings of his like him, the reader of an architectural history is alone among the built riches of the past, put in order, illustrated, and ac- counted for. He or she can learn the names ‘of buildings and their makers, and when ind how they were made, and other ready information that is not akways at our dis- posal when we travel. A visit t Rome or Istanbul 's bound to be confusing. There is so very much to see, and it seems to lie about unsorted, helter skelter. A group of temples from the time betore Christ is ringed by recent apartment houses: brick- and-concrete clumps refuse to yield their Identity. The historian brings time under control; isolates random scraps and ar- ranges them ioto a trenchant sequence; sets up relationships among farflung structures, through the hindsight of this day and the collective knowledge of the discipline. What isa ziggurat and how was it used? What sort ‘of people built it” How does it compare with fn Old Kingdom pyramid or the stepped platform of a Meso-American temple? The historian does ths, first, by insisting ‘on the recapture of the true physical realty fof things built, whether they have since been altered, damaged, or destroyed to- tally, This is a primary task, akin 0 ar- chaeology, and makes use of material that is both visual and literary in nature. And then the historian must go beyond this es: tablished realty of the buildings to under. stand what they are, how they came to be, and why they ace the way they are. The Pictorial Ev.dence Buildings are otten born of images and live ‘on in images. Eefore there is a foundation tuench oF a single course of stone, a build- ing has to be conceptualized and its form may be represented in models and draw- ings. Models of the building in small scale, in day or wood or plaster, give a full impression in three dimensions ofthe final product that is being projected. Pictorial Views might present the future building's ideal appearance: on commemorative ‘medals, for exzmple, struck at the time of the laying of the cornerstone, or on pr sentation drawings elaborately rendered in perspective. And there ate other, more ab- Stract drawings. Plans show in two-dimen: sional pattern the horizontal disposition of Solid parts, like walls and columns, and the voids of eniramed or enclosed space. Sec: tions slice theough the building vertically at some imaginec plane to indicate the se- uence of rooms in length and the super. imposition of tloors and roo in height; they also indicate openings, whether they ate physically accessible or not, and so help, to explain structure. Elevations, using a vertical plane, ilatten out one face of the building to incicate schematically the or der of its parts To the initiate, a ground plan of the church of Hagiy Sophia in Istanbul tells at a glance that strings of columas alternate with heavy piers to describe a large squareA PLACE ON MhTig, 13 Thomas Cole, The Architects Dream, 1 The point to remember, then, is that graphic and plastic images are indispens- able in the making of architecture—and for its understanding after the fact. They are the conventional language through which the architect communicates with his partners in the act of shaping our daily enviconment These are the patron oF client who employ the architect to mold their architectural wishes, and the many hands involved in building the structure. That same language assists students of architectural history to Beto know structures they have never seen fr hive seen and not comprehended in tll and one of the earliest tasks for them is 0 learn to read architectural drawings and mocels with ease. ‘Once a building is up it becomes a live presence, to be reproduced at will. I might figure on paintings and sculpture in reli fon prints, maps, or photographs. Models of it might be made to serve as votive of ferings to a germane cult, for example, oF to be sold as mementoes to visitors or pil aries. For the history of architecture there fs valuable information in all of these re. productions. But we have to be cautious in THE STUDY OF WHAT WE BUILT interpreting the evidence they provide, be- ‘use the conventions of the various me- dia employed are peculiar to themselves. A photograph is a faithful record that regis- ters all incidents of form, however teifing, that fll within Inthe hands of a painter the same building may be pictured less clinically, its mass {generalized and rendered in sharp, simple Suriaces of shadow and light. (Fig. 1.6) This is testimony of a different kind. Yet it can be just as usetul as the photography; for ar chitectural reality has more to it than stick and stone, and the history of architecture more dimensions than just the categorical We range of its fixed frame The literary Evidence like images, yield much fessential insight for our study of archite ture. The birth of most structures of con: sequence assumes the existence of written documents, some of which may come to be preserved by design or accident. At times, patrons may express their wishes to the ar chitect in writing. The architect, in turn, may have passed on written instructions to sub- cordinates. Legal contracts delineate the precise responsibilities of the parties con ‘eemed. The erection of public monuments necessitated whose tral can be followed in the minutes ff their deliberations, reports, and records fof payment. Beyond this immediate con: text, architectural production would have been affected, sicectly or indirectly, by the buildirg codes, building trades and guilds, theoretical wea tises, and mancals of construction “Again, as with visual representations, the building may live in literary sources long past its comple ion, First, there is sel-ser ing advertisem:nt after the fact. Patrons often sing the praises of their creation in dedicatory or cammemorative inscriptions oF tablets. It was the function of court his: torians to extol the building program oftheir employer, We also have to heed descrip tions of past buildings in old travel ac- counts oF in an als and local chronicles. In all of this, historians of architecture need to borrow the philologist’s discipline, But Janguage, the agent of expression, is also the hotbed of ambiguity. And the transla tion of words irto the physical substance of architecture is peculiarly open to conten We might illastrate this point by focus- ing om one mo wment of antiquity, the fa mous tomb of King Mausolos of Caria at Halikarnassos that gave us the word mau: soleum., it was considered one of the seven wonders of the Classical world. It disap. peared long ag» with hardly a trace except for. fragments of its sculptural decoration, now housed in the British Museum in Lon- don, and odd bis of the structure that were built into the castle of Bodrum which oc: cupies the site. The Mausoleum of Halikae fnassos lived on in memory through men- tions of it and its creators in later Latin ‘administrative committees literature, of which the most detailed is a passage from the Natural History of Pliny the der This isthe tomb that was bul by Artemisia for her husband Mawolos, he viceroy of Cai, who cin the second year ofthe 10°Uh Oltnpid [BSI ec1. Cn the north and south sides i extends for 63 fet, but the lengths of the facades less, the toa length othe facades an sides being 440 tee. The building rises to a height of 25 cubits and is enclosed by 36 columns Above the coloneade there isa pyramid as high again the lower structure and tapering 24 Stages tothe topo its peak. At the summit thereFig, 15 Dacea (Bangladesh), National Assembly Bulcing, 1965-78, Lous Kahn (a ground pla (b) sketch plan, 1963, THE STUDY OF WHAT WE BUILT iss fourhorse chariot of marble, and this was Image by Pythis. The addition of this chariot founds off the whole work and brings it to 3 height of 140 fet Recreating the physical appearance of the Mausoleum on the strength of these words is an exceedingly dificult procedure, First fone has to establish the accuracy of the words themselves, Pliny lived two thou sand years ago. His book came down to us ‘in various texts, in Latin and Greek; these Contain disparities or alternate readings because of different copyists—and the interpretation of moder scholars. This is ‘no ‘trivial matter. Dimensions, whether written in Roman numerals or sna letters and accents in the Greek manner, are eas- ily miscopied or misread. And yet they have to be the basis of any reconstruction. Transpose the two inital letters of the word and altitudinem becomes latitudinem, ‘changing the meaning of “a pyramid as high again as the lower structure” to "as wide’ both readings have their adherents ‘There were four centuries between Mau solos and Pliny. The description itself may therefore be inaccurate and Pliny may have erred in writing. At least one scholar be- Tieves that, when Pliny gave the width of the rhorth and south sides as 63 feet, he really ‘meant to say cubits, a unit of measurement that is one half of afoot longer: there is no other way in which the dimensions of the ‘original foundations as they have been ex: tracted trom the site could be reconciled with such a small figure. And of course the passage in question does not furnish all the particulars. It does not say, for example, hhow high the pedestal was of how the col- ‘umns that surrounded the building were arranged. Historians must juggle all these variables and come up with a building that is a fir interpretation of the literary and archaeo- logical evidence—and a credible form ar chitecturally. They must deduce from the fone surviving column the style of the bases And the cornice of the surrounding colon: nade, relying on the current knowledge of the general development of Greek archi tecture. It should not surprise us, then, that two versions of the Mausoleum of Halkar- nassos as different as the ones we illustrate Could be spawned by the same data. (Fig, w The Total Context of Architecture The effort to establish, through the scru tiny of visual and literary documents, what past architecture really looked like will have already involved us with questions not Strictly pertinent to physical form. These might include the identity of the patrons, particulars abot the motivation for the buildings commissioned, the identity and careers of the architects, the nature of the ‘materials of construction and their prove- hance, matters of finance, and so on. But teven this is not the outermost limit of the legitimate concn of architectural history We have to push further stil, to the broader frame of general history, for those strands fF patterns that illuminate the total setting fof architectural production, Architecture, to state the obvious, is a social act—soci:l both in method and pur- pose. It is the outcome of teamwork; and itis there to be made use of by groups of people, groups as small as the family or as Targe as an entice nation. Architecture is a costly act. It engages specialized talent, ap- propriate tech ology, handsome funds Because this is s0, the history of architec: ture partakes, in a basic way, of the study of the social, economic, and technological systems of human history. To understand the Carson Pirie Scott department store in Chicago fully, we must know something of late-nineteenth-century American capitalist enterprise, the philosophy of consumer- ism, and the business ethic; the urban his: tory of Chicago since the Fire of 1871; cor- porate financing and land values; the {genesis of the department store as a novel concept in commercial architecture; the elevator and the early history of steebframe skyscraper construction. (Fi. 1.8) This approach should be kept in the foreground as te ideal way to learn about four built envircrnment. f we are to be sat: ified with less, as we must, it should be on the condition ‘that we agree on what the total context of architecture is. Every build Ing represents a social artifact of specific: impulse, energ., and commitment. That is {ts meaning, and this meaning resides in its physical form. Neither material realty alone nor general background of culture wil uf- fice to explain the peculiar nature of the building. And the task of the architectural