Problems in Periclean Buildings

In Short

This book is a focused architectural analysis that investigates the structural irregularities of two iconic Athenian buildings: the Propylaea and the Erechtheum. By carefully examining masonry, foundation remains, and ancient historical accounts like those of Pausanias, the author argues that these buildings were not designed with their present asymmetries in mind. Instead, he posits that conservative religious institutions repeatedly forced architects to truncate their original, perfectly symmetrical blueprints. It remains a valuable, specialized text for those interested in the physical evidence of the struggle between Athenian progress and tradition.

The Story

The narrative begins with a puzzle: why does the Propylaea, a gateway intended for grandeur, feature an asymmetrical arrangement of doors and windows? The author rejects the notion that this was an aesthetic choice or a mistake. Instead, he demonstrates that the building’s layout was a reaction to the physical realities of the site and the obstructionist power of the priesthood. The path leading up to the Acropolis was a steep, zigzagging road; to ensure that the building’s features were visible to those approaching it, the architect had to shift the windows and doors off-center.

From here, the argument broadens to the Erechtheum, a complex structure that has long baffled archaeologists due to its internal floor levels and seemingly inexplicable plan. The author traces the evolution of this building from its original, symmetrical conception to the irregular structure that survives today. He argues that the architect initially planned a perfectly balanced temple, but was thwarted by the existence of ancient, sacred sites dedicated to Athena, Cecrops, and Pandrosus. The religious authorities, suspicious of the "Periclean building plans," effectively prevented the architect from executing his full vision.

The author then moves to the interior, where he challenges the long-held belief that the cellae of the Erechtheum were built at different elevations. By analyzing the foundation blocks and comparing them to the accounts of ancient travelers like Pausanias, he suggests that the interior was originally a single level. He explains that the complex and confusing floor plan we see today is the result of later Roman-era modifications—specifically the addition of heavy piers to support a new roof—which obscured the original, harmonious design.

The arc of the book concludes with a comprehensive theory regarding the west wall of the Erechtheum. The author contends that this wall is not an interior partition as some have argued, but rather a "compressed" version of what was intended to be a full, open portico. Faced with religious pressure that prevented him from building on sacred ground, the architect moved the elements of the portico into a single, flat plane. The book ends by situating these buildings within the broader context of the Periclean Age, framing them as grand "architectural sentences" that were ultimately forced to speak in the fragmented, complex language of compromise.

How It Unfolds

The Propylaea’s secret The author identifies the "hitherto unobserved" rule of Periclean architecture: that doors and windows behind a colonnade must be visible from the primary line of approach. He demonstrates that the Propylaea’s irregular layout was a mathematical necessity to maintain this visibility along an oblique, zigzagging path.

The priesthood’s blockade The narrative shifts to the political tension between the architects and the conservative religious parties on the Acropolis. Evidence of hacked-away stone and unfinished foundations suggests that the state authorities blocked the architects from expanding into sacred precincts, forcing them to abandon their intended colonnades.

The Erechtheum’s internal logic The focus turns to the interior of the Erechtheum, where the author scrutinizes the Chandler inscription and Pausanias’s topography. He argues that the historical confusion regarding the interior chambers arises from misinterpreting Roman renovations as original Greek work, proposing instead a simpler, unified level for the temple.

The final synthesis The book closes by reconstructing the architect’s original, symmetrical intention for the Erechtheum. It characterizes the building’s present state as a successful, if truncated, effort to maintain the "balance of structure" despite the severe limitations imposed by the sacred sites of the Cecropium and Pandroseum.

The People

The Architect is the central, unsung protagonist—a visionary who seeks to impose the logical, symmetrical order of the Periclean ideal upon a site cluttered with archaic cult sites. He is clever and adaptive, finding ways to "compress" his designs when he cannot expand them, yet he is repeatedly frustrated by forces beyond his control.

Pericles appears as the driving political force behind the modernization of the Acropolis. While his name defines the era, he is the silent sponsor of the building projects; the obstacles the architect faces are, in effect, the barriers placed against Pericles’ own grand vision for a unified Athenian identity.

The Conservative Priesthood acts as the primary antagonist. They possess no desire to update the sacred geography of the Acropolis for the sake of architectural harmony. By insisting on the preservation of shrines—such as the precinct of Athena Nike or the sacred olive of Athena—they prevent the architect from building where he desires, creating the "abnormal" arrangements that the author seeks to explain.

Pausanias, the ancient traveler, serves as a vital, if occasionally misunderstood, witness. The author treats him with respect but corrects his interpretations of the Erechtheum, arguing that later scholars have been misled by taking Pausanias's descriptions as literal, unvarnished records of the building's original state.

In Its Own Voice

"The irregular position of the door and the windows of the north-west wing of the Propylaea has long been remarked, though no explanations of the phenomenon have been offered."

This opening sentence establishes the mystery that drives the author’s inquiry into the Propylaea’s design.

"The original Erechtheum, in short, was an architectural sentence finely illustrating the men and de of Greek feeling."

This concluding reflection underscores the author’s belief that the building was intended to be an expression of perfect symmetry and balance.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument about the nature of artistic compromise in the face of institutional inertia. It explores how the "ideal" vision of an architect is constantly negotiated against the realities of a site that is already heavy with history and religious mandate. The author argues that true architectural skill in the Periclean period was not just about idealism, but about the ability to preserve the appearance of order even when the physical foundations were being forced into distortion. It asks a profound question: when an architect's plan is curtailed by tradition, how does the resulting work reflect the struggle between the new order and the old?

Why Read It Today

This book is intended for the dedicated student of classical architecture or archaeology who finds joy in the granular details of foundation measurements and ancient masonry. Readers who appreciate the detective work involved in uncovering the "original" intentions behind ruined structures will find the author’s systematic dismantling of 20th-century assumptions quite satisfying.

However, it is not a casual read. The text is dense with technical terminology, untranslated Greek terms, and references to early 20th-century scholarly debates that may feel remote today. The author’s style is precise and academic, reflecting the formal tone of its 1912 publication date. You will not find narrative flourishes or broad historical speculation; instead, you will find a rigorous, almost forensic investigation of the Acropolis.

If you are the type of reader who loves examining floor plans and comparing them against the accounts of ancient writers like Pausanias, you will find this work to be a classic of its kind. It stays with you as a testament to how physical evidence—the way a stone is cut or a foundation is laid—can act as a primary source, allowing us to reconstruct the political and religious tensions of a civilization long gone.