Monday, November 16, 2015

Playing Paxton

Sir Joseph Paxton (1803 - 1864) came back to life last week.


The gardener, "architect", writer, business manager, railroad tycoon, and liberal member of Parliament as a champion of  the working class, addressed a gathering of 225 Architects at the Minnesota Chapter of the American Institute of Architects convention in Minneapolis last Wednesday, November 11, under the theme of Disruptive Design.  And why the parenthetical "architect"?.  


In his own (my own?) words at the convention:  

"This is the first time that I have ventured across the Atlantic to the colonies, to be so warmly greeted by an esteemed group of colonial Architects.  In my long and quite busy career, I dare say that the learned society of Englishmen that call themselves Architects have never taken much public notice of my accomplishments, and if so, merely by a grudge to be certain.  I can say however, that while I have been in the company of the highest nobility, even knighted by Queen Victoria, I can say that this audience does finally make me proud to recite my story - a story of humble beginnings, humble service to my benefactor, Lord William Spencer Cavendish, the sixth Duke of Devonshire, and service to my very dear, and I dare say, patient wife Sarah (who could not join me this early morning)."

This was an amazing man.  With little formal education, he lied his age into the Royal Horticulture Society gardens at Chiswick in London (next to Lord Cavendish's London estate), to perfect his knowledge of horticulture and gardening, and became a master gardener, garden planner, landscape architect, greenhouse builder, writer and publisher, and effectively a business manager in the service of the Duke of Devonshire at his estate in Chatsworth.  He was the first to create a physical environment mimicking the Berbice River in Guyana, where the giant lily Victoria regia prospered, and then the first to get this lily to prosper and bloom in less-than-thoroughly-sunny England




Lily pond in Kew Gardens (R. Hilger)
Victoria regia flower (R. Hilger)



The Great Stove at Chatsworth (Public Domain)
And he constructed a "Great Stove", actually, a very large glass greenhouse, to house the growing collection (pun intended) of flora being gathered from around the world for the Duke.  The magnificence of these accomplishments gained notice of Queen Victoria and her consort, Prince Albert - indeed Paxton had to organize a visit of the Queen to Chatsworth, the event itself drawing international attention. 





Paxton Doodle Sketch
Victoria and Albert Museum


But his most significant accomplishment followed - a design for the Crystal Palace in Hyde Park to house the 1851 International Exposition, conceived by a simple sketch on blotting paper in a Midway Railway board meeting.  In partnership with the Fox Henderson company and the Chance glass firm, this building at nearly a million square feet, constructed of iron and glass, was completed in 9 months.  As a temporary structure, even enclosing live Elm trees, it was reconstructed in Sydenham as a Winter Garden, where it finally succumbed to fire in 1934.
Scene of the Exposition of 1851 (Getty Images)

Yet with all this notoriety, Paxton was never accepted into the design community, a community that preferred the heavy, candied Victorian visuals in masonry and stone.  But so modern were these structures, foretelling the industrial revolution transcribed into the elegant details and connections of the frames that held up a quarter million pieces of glass.  And one of his lesser known accomplishments, but one of huge import, was his conception and design of the first public park in England "to be equally enjoyed by all classes" - at Birkenhead in 1847 - inspiring a visit by the young American, Frederick law Olmsted, purportedly inspiring his design for Central Park in New York  

This was one busy and productive fellow, with a wide variety of interests.  I can relate to this fellow, both for his interest in gardening and design, mirroring some of my own interests and "busy-ness."  And yet he paid a price.  This, in his own (my own?) words last week:  

But let me leave you, each and every one of you, another, more important lesson, my one true regret, and it is this: In my life, my hard working life, I was long away from my dear Sarah.  Dickens once wrote of me that "very leisure would kill a man of fashion with its hard work."  Indeed, I achieved for us wealth, and for me fame and access to the highest royalty in the land. After the Crystal Palace, I was knighted by the Queen.  I served as a member of Parliament, a liberal working on behalf of the gardener classes.  I was comfortable and wealthy, designing grand estate houses in England and France, but ever more distant from my beloved gardens managing this evolving empire, distant from the aging Duke, my devoted benefactor who influenced and supported all that I did, and mostly from Lady Sarah and my 6 remaining children.  One, my only surviving son, did not see his father much, and I was unable to discipline him when he needed it, and so I lost him to society, not knowing whatever became of him, for which I am profoundly sorrowful.  My dear Sarah was left with the burden of caring for the children, the gardens, and much of the Chatsworth affairs in these later years, which she managed quite well.  We have many letters between us - we wrote almost every day while I was away - for she was my rock of Gibraltar who supported me all this time, but I could not, did not, give her the time and quiet life by the Chatsworth kitchen garden she so desperately wanted, not before I was permanently prevented from fulfilling that wish, at age 61 in 1864.


So here is what I must say to all of you.  Work hard on the betterment of mankind, each and every one of you, build your own Crystal Palaces for that betterment of mankind, but do not abandon those that love you in pursuit of that goal.  Wholly live your life, well and happily." 

   

Paxton - momentarily returned to life (courtesy AIA MN)