Colour Decoration of Architecture

In Short

This book is a passionate treatise on the necessity of polychromy—the use of multiple colors in decoration—as applied to the interiors and exteriors of buildings. Tracing the history of decorative art through Italy, Germany, France, and England, it critiques the pervasive, modern "whitewash" that renders our public and private spaces cold and mechanical. It provides specific technical guidance for decorators and students, emphasizing that color should harmonize with architecture to achieve unity, rhythm, and repose, ultimately encouraging a return to the rich, intentional color palettes of the medieval and Renaissance periods.

The Story

The narrative begins with a bold assessment of the modern malaise: a "grey" existence defined by the colorless, drab, or aggressively white interiors of contemporary manufacturing cities and public institutions. This state of affairs, often misattributed to Puritanical iconoclasm, is presented as an avoidable tragedy. The author argues that our discomfort with color stems from a lack of courage rather than a lack of artistic resources. By contrasting the vibrant, decorated churches and palaces of the continent with the sterile, bathroom-like aesthetic of modern halls and museums, the book establishes a clear moral and aesthetic imperative for the professional decorator.

As the argument unfolds, the focus shifts to the historical lessons left by the masters. The author guides the reader through the "golden age" of decorative painting in England during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, pointing to the remnants of rood-screens and stained glass as evidence of a lost sophistication. The story moves across Europe to explore how Italian, German, and French artists understood the role of ornament. In Italy, the focus is on the restraint of the great frescanti, who used color to frame and support, rather than disturb, the structural repose of their buildings. In Germany, the narrative highlights a more tenacious, traditional love for color, where even in secular buildings, heraldry and tempera painting were used to create warmth and depth.

The conflict in this story is the tension between "legitimate" decoration and the "sham" of modern imitation. The author rails against the practice of graining cheap wood to look like expensive timber or painting wood to imitate granite, characterizing these as dishonest practices that lack the integrity of true craftsmanship. This leads to a sophisticated discussion of the "laws of polychromy"—a set of principles for balancing color, light, and form. The author insists that for a space to feel truly finished, color must be treated as a primary architectural element, using "echoes" or "recalls" of tints across ceilings, walls, and woodwork to create a rhythmic unity.

Finally, the narrative settles on the work of the French master Puvis de Chavannes as the modern benchmark for success. His ability to respect the flatness of the wall while filling it with meaningful, monumental color is held up as the ideal. The book concludes that while little remains of the old, fully colored worlds, the modern decorator—armed with these historical lessons and an eye for balance—can restore a sense of purpose and beauty to our buildings, moving beyond the timid, "sugar-confectionery" schemes of the past toward a more profound and dignified environment.

How It Unfolds

The diagnosis of grey The author identifies the current prevalence of white paint as a failure of courage and a misunderstanding of how color enhances the perception of form in public spaces. This sets the stage for a rejection of the "mechanical and cold" effects of colorless architecture.

The lessons of the past Drawing on medieval English rood-screens and Italian fresco cycles, the text establishes that color was once an essential part of the structural identity of buildings. These examples serve as a benchmark for what is possible when decoration is integrated from the design phase.

The laws of color and balance The book outlines specific technical principles for achieving unity, emphasizing that rhythm and the "recall" of colors across different surfaces are more important than the simple repetition of ornamental forms. This section provides the practical framework for the decorator to move from chaos to harmony.

The critique of modern shams The narrative examines the rise of imitative painting—such as graining wood to look like marble—and dismisses it as a "double sham." By demanding authenticity in materials and technique, the author calls for a return to the integrity found in earlier, more confident eras of design.

The modern ideal The final movement highlights Puvis de Chavannes as the supreme example of a decorator who understood the "monumental fitness" of wall painting. This serves as a concluding vision for the reader, showing that a return to color is not merely a historical affectation but a legitimate, modern possibility.

The People

The book is populated less by characters than by archetypes and historical giants who represent different approaches to the craft.

The Decorator and Student act as the primary audience. They are the ones currently suffering from a lack of direction, pressured by the modern demand for "safe" white walls. They are tasked with overcoming their own prejudices to learn the delicate balance of complex polychromy.

Cromwell is invoked as a complex figure who, while often blamed for the destruction of art, is defended by the author as a protector of masterpieces like the Raffaelle Cartoons. He represents the precariousness of art history, reminding us that beauty is often saved by chance.

Puvis de Chavannes serves as the moral and artistic hero. He stands in opposition to the other painters of his time, whose "violent coloring" turned public buildings into chaotic picture galleries. He is the master who understands that the wall is a surface to be respected, not a canvas to be obscured.

The Old Masters—including Giotto, Cimabue, and Giovanni da Udine—are the mentors. They appear as the paragons of restraint, whose work in Rome and Mantua proves that even the most elaborate arabesques and grotesques can exist in total harmony with the architecture they adorn.

In Its Own Voice

"Though we may all love colour, there are very few amongst us who have the courage to advocate its use in the decoration of buildings."

This appears in the preface, identifying the primary psychological barrier facing the modern decorator.

"Suitably coloured and decorated walls often bestow a certain charm on the objects and examples by enhancing their beauty and preciousness, and by linking them together with the decoration, avoiding that mechanical and cold effect of isolation which many objects present on the colourless and undecorated walls of some museums."

This passage serves as the central argument for why public institutions should abandon the use of white paint in their galleries.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the "architectural fitness" of color. The author maintains that a building is not merely a container for light and objects but a holistic entity that requires a deliberate, unified color scheme to achieve "repose." The central question it explores is whether modern society can reclaim the decorative sophistication of the past without falling into the trap of imitation or visual chaos. It posits that color is not a luxury or an afterthought, but a fundamental component of structural integrity. By treating color as an "echo" that ties disparate architectural elements together, the book makes a philosophical claim: that a building's visual environment shapes the dignity and spirit of those who inhabit it.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in interior design, architecture, or the history of art will find this book an invaluable, if slightly demanding, resource. It is written with a sense of urgent, warm professionalism that is rare in modern instructional texts. You will find yourself drawn into its defense of "the grey life" and the corresponding call for bolder, more intentional choices in the home and in public spaces.

The prose reflects its 1914 origins, featuring a formal, at times heavy, Victorian-inflected syntax that requires careful attention. You may find the author’s occasional stubbornness regarding "proper" methods to be an interesting artifact of his time, particularly his disdain for the imitation of wood-graining or certain modern museum trends. However, the technical insights—especially regarding the treatment of vaulted ceilings and the use of analogous tones—remain strikingly relevant for anyone looking to move beyond the current trend of clinical, white-walled minimalism.

What lingers after closing the book is a renewed sensitivity to the surfaces around you. You will likely begin to see your own rooms not as static backgrounds, but as potential sites for "echoes" of color, and you will find yourself questioning the "safety" of white. It is a rewarding read for those who prefer their design advice rooted in deep historical context and a genuine love for the craftsman’s integrity.