Contributed by Patrick Webb
first published on Real Finishes January 6th, 2016
Ornament and Crime
by Adolf Loos
 |
| Ornament and Crime |
I should start by saying that
Ornament and Crime was first
presented as the title of a lecture in 1910 by the Viennese interior
designer, architect and most notably critic, Adolph Loos. The lecture
subsequently was published as a stand alone essay. Nevertheless, easily
recognisable as a consistent theme in Loos' writing,
Ornament and Crime by extension refers to a collection of his essays spanning a period of over 30 years.
Loos' writings are clearly polemical, positively hyperbolic in their
criticisms, particularly of architecture, the decorative and applied
arts. As an early member of the "Vienna Secession", a group of artists
and architects who broke away from the established and conservative
Vienna Künstlerhaus, his affiliation was not to endure long. Adolf
seceded from the secession, pursuing an initially very individual course
in search of the "Modern" aesthetic. The impact of his writings can not
be understated. At a time of utter confusion in the arts in the face of
industrial ascendance, entropy of culture and loss of traditions, Loos
was articulating a crystal clear message, what at the time must have
seemed to some as a potential way out if not a way forward.
Despite
the fact that I disagree entirely with many of his conclusions, I find
myself obligated to concur with many of his observations. Adolf Loos was
not a ninny. If one cares to understand how and why the state of art
and architecture are as they are today, being so distinctly different
from what came before, why traditional craft lies in such a impoverished
condition, then I might suggest reading his essays as a point of
departure.
Advocacy for the Handwerker,
Criticism for the Architect
It
comes as a surprise to many that Adolf Loos apprenticed in the family
business as a stone mason and carver. Although he began studies both in
engineering and architecture he never completed them, opting instead to
travel abroad to America where he supported himself, among other things
as a brick mason for which he received a certificate. His support for
the independence of the handicraftsman, particularly from the academies
of art and architecture, is a central theme in his writings, a position
that never wavered.
 |
Medieval Griechengasse Straße, Vienna
|
Adolph notes that a century earlier to his time Vienna and Austria
had a style, both organic and traditional. One bought shoes from the
cobbler, trousers from the tailor, rooms from the cabinet maker. No one
was telling the varied craftsmen what to do, yet everything was well
made and matched just fine. Nevertheless, over the course of the 19th
century
"profound minds immersed themselves in another age and found
happiness as an ancient Greek, a medieval symbolist, or a renaissance
man." The craftsman was pressed into service, forced to abandon his
long cultivated traditions to adopt all at once the pinnacles of
artistic achievements of Classical Greece and Rome, Romanesque and
Gothic, Moorish and the Baroque, in fact
"everything that had been made throughout history in all nations and produce new inventions as well."
The traditional craftsman lacked the scholarly proficiency of an
aesthetic polyglot, the academic archeologist who exposed him as naive,
provincial and stupid.
So everything of value save his
back was wrested from the materialistic craftsman now placed under the
alien authority of the man of ideas, forms, books and drawing, the
architect
who
"has learned draftsmanship, and since that is all he has learnt, he is good at it. The craftsman is not...The architect has reduced the noble art of building to a graphic art.
The one who receives the most commissions is not the one who can build
best but the one whose work looks best on paper. There is a world of
difference between the two."
 |
| Majolica House, Vienna |
Interestingly, he took specific aim at Otto Wagner, the most
accomplished architect of Vienna, who fit this description to a tee. He
accused Wagner of designing every minute detail of his projects, leaving
no contribution for the craftsman., even whilst confessing that due to
Wagner's virtuoso ability he manages to pull it off. Genius
acknowledged, Loos made his stand against architecture that draws
attention to itself as a testament of singular, artistic ability. Loos
was less impressed by the aesthetic accomplishment of Wagner's work as
much as he was disconcerted by the trend he represented: the approach to
architecture as a fine art, especially considering Otto Wagner's
position as Professor of Architecture at the Academy of Fine Arts in
Vienna.
Loos called for an end to the academic abomination, for revolution:
“It
is high time our craftworkers tried to throw off this uncalled for
tutelage and started to rely on their own good sense. Anyone who wants
to collaborate is welcome. All credit to anyone who is willing to don
an apron and take his place at the humming potter's wheel, or strip to
the waist and help at the furnace. But those dilettantes who want to
dictate their designs to the creative artist from the comfort of their
studios should stick to their own field, namely graphic art...if you want craftsmen in touch with the style of the times, poison the architects.”
Hmm...I've yet to try that last suggestion.
The Pogrom against Ornament
The
multi-pronged attacks on ornament lack the coherence of some of his
other arguments but were the ones to be most revered by the coming
Modernist movement. He repeatedly makes a point that is largely
verifiable: there was far more ornament applied to everyday items and
architecture in the 19th century than at any previous point in Viennese
and European culture more generally. 1800's Europe was dripping ears to
arse in ornament, much of it shoddily conceived, near all of it
culturally foreign.
Some of the appetite for ornament
he attributes to the presentation of archeological discoveries as well
as artefacts of the aristocracy to the public, particularly under
interpretive curation at museums. Out of the tremendous cache collected,
what was selected for display was typically the most enriched,
bejeweled of items. Loos attributes their survival to being preserved as
art objects, ceremonial showcases of ostentation and power. Utilising
them as models for practical use therefore would be to miss the original
intention completely. Unless of course the intention was to emulate the
aristocracy or nobility of former times, an envious pathology that
seemed to have infected the upwardly mobile bourgeoisie. He thus
describes a life lived amongst hallowed relics:
"The
lives we lead are at variance with the objects with which we surround
ourselves. We forget we need a living room as well as a throne room, and
we are quite happy to let ourselves be physically abused by these
pieces of furniture in antique styles. We bash our knees, and etch
complete ornaments into our backs...our bowls, jugs, and vases has given
us in turn renaissance, baroque, and rococo calluses on our hands."
 |
| Le Sacre de Napoléon, Jacques-Louis David 1808 |
Basically, the argument was that the bourgeoisie was not attracted to
ornamentation because of their cultivated taste nor because it gave
them any pleasure whatsoever, rather it was that they thought by having
it
others would think they had taste. Being a purely
instrumental, shallow desire there was no qualms about selecting a cheap
fake which only served to degrade craft further. By contrast Loos
advocates for domestic architecture that the rooms of a house should
have the mark of the owner and be comfortable for the family, also
cultivating and reflecting their true tastes for good or ill. The one
concession he makes to the aforementioned approach is perhaps for the
parlour or a similar room for receiving guests where a specific outward
presentation might be desired upon which he cautions,
"rest assured that everyone will find the designer he deserves."
 |
| Courtesy of The Original Morris and Co. |
Having fully imbibed the Hegelian nectar of the inexorable progress
of civilisation, Loos strikes out into far more questionable territory
claiming that
"the less advanced a nation, the more extravagant its ornament." He offers no
justification for his argument instead providing the highly ornamented Paupans and the highly ornamenting Red Indians as
examples
of the primitive and culturally poor contrasted with the pragmatic,
restrained, eminently civilised English, the culturally rich who are
lavishly praised as guardians of the true Germanic spirit. Although
quite natural for the primitive Paupan or Indian to tattoo themselves or
adorn their canoes he argues that,
"a person of our times who gives way to the urge to daub the walls with erotic symbols is a criminal or degenerate." He urges the Viennese to thus overcome the
"Red Indian"
within themselves and emulate the English. Racism aside, I have to
question whether or not Adolf was simply completely unaware of what
William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement was really up to in
England?
This line of argument equating appreciation of
ornament with ignorance and dirtiness, unfit for the clean modern man
has stuck. It has been very damaging to architecture, culture and
inadvertently yet undeniably damaging to traditional handcraft.
Although there is some recovery, the aesthetic cleansing sprung from his
polemic has yet a long way from being fully extricated. Not to end on a
sour note I have to say there is much more to recommend of Adolf Loos'
essays than that last bit of nonsense above such as his genuine concern
for the physical and psychological working conditions of craftsmen and
advocacy for the respect as well as equal treatment and rights for
women. Finally, his additional essay simply entitled
"Architektur" is
one of the best expositions I've read on how architecture ought to
relate to the landscape (natural and urban) and how architecture is
not an art. In the spirit of keeping your friends close and your enemies even closer, I recommend Adolf Loos' collected essays
Ornament and Crime as an important reading for the contemporary craftsman.
Contributed by Patrick Webb