1900. By no means did Walton, however, repudiate ornament at this stage, nor at any other. Only he now kept it under close control. It blossomed out in the transparent, genuinely imaginative metal work above the light fittings, it gathered round the fireplace of the hall, and to mention another room at The 1 Leys-it emphasized some of the panels around the otherwise bare fireplace of the small ante-hall. Walton's buildings, after this stage had been reached, are ever-changing solutions of the same problem, the encounter of an imaginative, entirely unconventional architect with the external and internal requirements of jobs which he is too honest and conscientious to disregard. Thus there is a decidedly Late Georgian flavour about the White House at Shiplake without Georgian forms being anywhere copied. It is the atmosphere of the Thames banks acting upon the architect, just as the atmosphere of the Welsh coast had acted upon him 11, 12 when, during the same years, he built Wern Fawr and the St David's Hotel at 22 Harlech. The local stone in its colour and weight and the massiveness of the square blocks re-echo the menacing severity of the hills and the grey sea. Neo24, 25 Romanesque some people may call the Memorial Chapel at Antibes. In fact, the personal transformation goes here as far as in the previous buildings, and how precise Walton was in the formal interpretation of the emotional or functional 15 requirements of a task is most clearly proved by the Sterne Street houses of 1923, where a straightforward job finds a perfectly straightforward answer. The Sachlichkeit of these small houses makes the surrounding builder-built houses with their bay-windows and their half-timbering look all the more false and fussy. It is perhaps this concentrated and thoughtful approach more than anything that enabled the untrained designer to become what he became. George Walton was, as his friends tell you, a quiet man, kind and silent. He was happy in his work, not a fighter. Thus he never broadcast his ideas in writing, nor did he— as far as I know-more than once publicly speak of them. This only lecture of his, delivered in 1898 or 1899 to the Scottish Architectural Association, contains, however, so much of importance to an understanding of his attitude to art and design that it must, in conclusion, be mentioned. A few quotations may suffice: 'There is no reason why machinery should not be used in certain cases provided always that no attempt is made to use it as if it had brains.' 'The use of material in its natural state is delightful.' Walnut without French polish, and yellow pine in its true colour are recommended. If timber is to be painted, let it be white for bedrooms, or otherwise grey or green. Amongst colour schemes, the following are suggested, and they are all typical harmonies of 1900: walnut, grey, silver and rose; satinwood, ivory and canary; mahogany, crimson and gold. The most interesting remark stands right at the beginning of the lecture. Walton emphasizes that he is not a craftsman himself, but 'a great deal is to be learned from the craftsman who intelligently executes one's own designs.' Now, in point of fact, those who knew Walton say that although not a creator with his hands like William Morris, he was a genius at understanding the nature of materials and their handling by craftsmen. In this again he stands precisely where his style places him, right in the middle between the Arts and Crafts and the Modern Movement. Morris believed only in salvation by hand work, the designer of today regards craft only as laboratory work for the preparation of standards for machine production. Walton-just like Voysey-no longer made, but what he designed was conceived in terms of craft production. His metalwork as well as his furniture needs the skilled worker. This combination of designing with an unerring sense of materials was necessary if a new style, a new grammar of form, was to be created. George Walton played an important part in this development, important enough to justify a paper devoted exclusively to him. |