The American Architect and Building News, Vol. 27, Jan-Mar, 1890

In Short

This volume is a bound compilation of weekly issues of a prominent architectural trade journal from the first three months of 1890. It functions as a historical snapshot, blending practical advice for builders—such as the strength of concrete arches or the proper treatment of sandstones—with essays on the philosophy of interior design, reports on archaeological expeditions, and accounts of labor disputes. It has lasted because it offers an unfiltered, ground-level view of how late 19th-century society grappled with the challenges of modernization, housing density, and the preservation of historical structures.

The Story

The narrative arc of this volume begins with the nuts-and-bolts realities of the profession: how to handle gutters on government buildings, the ethical responsibilities of architects, and the evolving legal landscape regarding contracts and client relations. The text moves from the immediate, granular concerns of the office—such as how to arrange architectural prints—to the broader, global context of the discipline. Readers are taken on a journey from the construction sites of New York and Boston to the ancient ruins of Yucatan, the monolithic churches of France, and the storied abbeys of Scotland.

As the weeks progress, the journal shifts its focus toward the cultural stakes of architecture. There is a palpable tension between the desire for efficient, modern living and the reverence for historical legacy. The text explores the transition from the "tower" system—the traditional, isolated city home—to the emerging "flat" or apartment-house model, which is presented as a rational, if radical, improvement in coöperative living. This economic argument is countered by deep dives into aesthetic history, where the writers ponder whether their own era is witnessing the decline of the arts or a unique, if fragmented, evolution of expression.

The closing chapters broaden the scope further. The journal celebrates the legacy of sculptor Antoine-Louis Barye, whose bronze studies of beasts in motion serve as a focal point for discussions on artistic vigor and the recurring disappointments of competition judging. Interspersed throughout are tragic reminders of the industry’s volatility: the collapse of roofs, the deaths of noted architects, and the constant, wearying friction between owners and labor. The volume concludes not with a tidy resolution, but with an ongoing record of discovery—archaeological findings in the East, the study of the "Bell Rock" tradition, and the persistent, unceasing work of building. It leaves the reader with a sense of the architectural profession as a vast, interconnected enterprise, constantly struggling to balance the weight of history against the demands of a fast-moving, commercialized world.

How It Unfolds

The pragmatic foundation The volume opens by addressing the core anxieties of the working architect, focusing on liability, the technical behavior of building materials like concrete and sandstone, and the necessity of written agreements. These initial beats establish a tone of professional caution, emphasizing that the architect’s role is as much legal and scientific as it is creative.

The shift toward modern living The middle section pivots to the social implications of design, specifically the push for apartment-house living in dense urban centers. By framing the "flat" as a superior, economic alternative to the isolated townhome, the text highlights a changing domestic consciousness that prioritizes efficiency and shared management.

The global and historical gaze The journal then expands its reach to the wider world, cataloging architectural relics from the ruins of ancient Mayan temples to the shattered majesty of Scottish abbeys. These accounts serve to ground the current practice in a long, storied lineage, reminding the contemporary reader that their work exists within a vast, temporal framework.

The collision of art and commerce The final movement centers on the exhibition of fine art and the internal politics of the profession. By documenting the reception of masterworks and the ongoing struggles of labor syndicates, the text illustrates the inherent conflict between the timeless pursuit of beauty and the immediate, often brutal pressures of the market.

The People

The figures in this volume are less characters in a plot and more representatives of a shifting professional class. The Architect is the central protagonist, a figure often portrayed as beleaguered by "annoyances"—from the "volcano" of a problematic cook in the kitchen to the "walking delegate" of labor unions who exerts immense power over site management. They are professionals attempting to maintain technical standards in an age of rapid change.

Then there is the Client, often depicted as a source of both necessity and frustration. The text views them through the lens of the contract, analyzing how their expectations for a "tower" house clash with the architect's vision for efficient, modern, and coöperative housing.

Finally, we encounter the Artist, represented by figures like Barye or painters such as Millet. These individuals are held up as benchmarks of creative excellence. Their presence in the journal serves to remind the reader that while the architect deals in stone, steel, and law, the ultimate goal—or the ultimate standard of measurement—remains the aesthetic and emotional resonance that only the true artist can provide. These figures do not end up "changed" in the traditional sense; rather, they serve as fixed points against which the modern, professional world is measured and often found wanting.

In Its Own Voice

"In America, people have not yet learned this lesson, but cling to the old and barbarous custom of living perpendicularly in isolated towers, with all the cares and worries that go with isolated management."

This observation appears in an essay analyzing why the apartment-house is a more logical and economical solution for urban living than the traditional city house.

"The private cook is a volcano in a house, slumbering at times, but always ready to burst forth into destructive eruption."

The author uses this vivid metaphor to emphasize the domestic strife inherent in the traditional, isolated method of household management.

"It is certainly a kind of novel and in many ways admirable art in the way of expression."

This line closes a reflection on whether the late nineteenth century can truly be considered a great artistic epoch.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an inquiry into the tension between the modern impulse for efficiency and the deep-seated human desire for meaning. It asks whether the advancements of the late 19th century—in engineering, cooperative management, and industrial production—are eroding the "soul" of architecture or merely evolving it into a new, complex form. The text consistently questions the value of the individual versus the collective: whether we should live in "towers" or "flats," whether we should value original thought or follow established tradition, and whether our modern progress is actually creating a "chaotic" environment where true beauty is easily lost.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of urban planning, the sociology of the home, or the material culture of the 1890s will find this volume deeply rewarding. It provides a rare, unmediated look at a society in transition, captured in the specific, technical language of the people building it. The prose is earnest, precise, and occasionally delightfully opinionated, offering a window into the professional anxieties of an era that mirrors many of our own concerns regarding density and architectural integrity.

However, the reader should be prepared for the journal's dry, technical nature. It is not a narrative; it is a compilation of reports. Readers may find the focus on specific, long-forgotten building codes, 19th-century labor disputes, and the intricate details of masonry and sandstone to be dense or occasionally tedious. Furthermore, the text reflects the period's biases and its sometimes paternalistic views on labor and social class. Yet, for those who appreciate the texture of history—the feeling of flipping through the actual records of a past century—this book offers a tactile, authentic experience. It captures a moment when the world was becoming both smaller and more complicated, and it remains a vital record of how the built environment was imagined by those tasked with creating it.