Richard England 85. Melita + Gaudos Sanctuaries

by Richard England

published by Kite Group

I felt thoroughly at ease reading the text and absorbing the illustrations of this excellent book: Richard England 85. Melita + Gaudos Sanctuaries, another first-class publication by Kite Group. It was published last year to celebrate Richard England’s 85th birthday.

So, he generously included no less than 85 original drawings, with each one accompanied by short but judicious and informative comments penned by Conrad Thake – another personage who truly ennobles the architectural profession.

This book is not a festschrift. I think England wished to walk down memory lane and instil in our minds and hearts visions of a Malta which is fast disappearing. Unadulterated skylines of flat-roofed houses cuddled around the parish church’s overarching dome; not one crane in sight, no hellish tower blocking the vista, no atrocity defacing the scenario.

England’s short contribution, The Eye in the Hand, delights us with a few thoughts. The power of the shadow: “for it is by emphasising shadows that you glorify light.”

The joy of creating on a blank page: “To decorate the loneliness of the blank page may also be an intimidating task… but there is joy and elation.”

The paramount process of simplification: “The artists must analyse what is essential…what to include and exclude.” I wish we all follow this dictate in all we do, say and think. Michelangelo would call it “Levar l’eccesso.”

England inserts his index finger deep into the wound just like Caravaggio dramatically portrays Thomas in The Incredulity of Saint Thomas.

He laments that “regretfully, sketching and drawing have been largely removed from architectural training curriculums and substituted by computer simulation courses.”

Yeah, yeah! The artist in the architect should not only be revived and given the breath of life, but should be the driving force in the creation of the new and beautiful. Nothing against computer graphics, but those are tools to express better one’s creations, not tools to supplant one’s creative force.

I recall when years ago, my friends’ children who were then taking up architecture would come to me to give them a basic grounding in art. Gratis, of course! They no longer come. Obvious. They now scribble a line which will automatically turn to straight form and can be changed into a correct perspective, choose from a menu, and so on. Am I too old for computers? Certainly not.

Santa Luċija, Gozo

I have dabbled with computers since the old, old days of ZX Spectrum when owning a 48k machine was meant to be the latest. I went through many machines and still use them every single day. But using programmed exercises does not make anyone an artist. No wonder we are lacking new, fresh and exciting input from many architects. As Richard England so aptly puts it: “The bridge between mind and paper still remains best crossed by the hand.”

Joe Friggieri offers an interesting numbered progressive set of arguments titled The Value of Drawing. While Socrates suggests reading the largest letter first and then comparing it with the smaller one to see if they are the same, Friggieri notes that England takes the opposite route in his drawings.

“We can get a better understanding of the large reality by looking at a sketch.”

Recognising what the image represents is a way of learning more about the nature of the thing represented − and the recognition itself is a source of pleasure. When you draw, you assimilate the totality of the subject; but in the process, you eliminate the non-essential, and when the hurdle is overcome, elation enters the scene.

The bridge between mind and paper still remains best crossed by the hand

Joe Friggieri reminds us of Richard’s “intelligent use of masonry” and recalls the three qualities indicated by Vitruvius as the defining feature of good architecture. Of these three, Richard chooses venustas, that is, beauty, grace, and charm: “It is this which elevates construction to the realm of architecture.”

I have a soft spot for pen drawings. They take me back to my much younger days. I still treasure some of my early pen drawings, where I became aware of the energy of contrasts, which are more challenging to tame, manage, and not overdo.

The judicious use of the whiteness of the paper to act as dramatic variance and possibly a poetic expression becomes, by time, an unconscious choice based on gusto and artistic vision.

While colours can be balanced through the use of opposite primaries or the vicinity of complementary colours, or equipoising hot and cold hues, the use of black and white is much more limited; and hence the artists’ choice develops into a delicate balance of shapes, directions, lines, movements leading the eye to imagine or discern the unseen.

Naturally, I have my favourites among the 85 drawings. I love Senglea, where he hides the amassment of rooftops in dark pervading shadows to create drama. Or the Mtaħleb Church, where the artist uses the essential lines to reveal or, better still, make us see what is unseen. The shadows of the church and surrounding tenements hide the detail, but offer the sensation of solid forms following a sequence.

And what about Marsaxlokk? He offers two scenes of this village: first, a piazza, which the artist transmutes into a busy effect by using deft, precise lines to create the architectural setting. Another scene of the same village shows the parish church from an unusual angle, with residences in the foreground and its steeple, dome, and facade gently overarching them.

In Tal-Grazzja Parish Church Żabbar, he presents us with a busy ensemble and interaction of lines and shapes which trick our eyes into believing/discerning architectural details. The simplicity of St Peter’s Church in Mdina reminds me of a toned-down Piranesi, where simple shapes assume majestic presence.

Żabbar

I love his Gozo scenes. Kerċem is a dream. Darkness permeates the foreground, but erratically spurts in the mid-ground to reaffirm itself in force in the building horizon dominated by the Church dome, beneath a pure white sky.

And Santa Luċija, Main Square Gozo revels in a poetic rendering of that unique atmosphere of a church facade, contrasting with its adjacent building with sparse human participation.

England is blessed with the gift of virtuoso draughtsmanship, plus something else. One must remember that he is also a poet, photographer, sculptor, and author. So, all those aspects mingle with the artist cum architect to create a particular end result, which is purely him.

In a short Invitation to Creative Beauty, the Archbishop, Mgr Charles J. Scicluna, aptly notes: “The landscapes that he (England) describes and reads and writes in his extraordinary art are also poetry. They are a sign of love. Our dilemma today is whether this song of love will one day turn into a lament or simply a nostalgic record of things past.” 

As usual, Mgr Scicluna hits the nail on the head; he touches our raw innermost part and never fails in his concentrated expression of truths.