Imagine a meeting of a few dozen members of the Institute of Classical Architecture & Classical America. No doubt you’re picturing a cluster of people, all a bit brilliant, chatting about things like pediments, entablatures and colonnades.
Sit in a room with a few of these passionate people, and you’ll realize it’s a more casual affair. And they’re actually talking about some pretty simple ideas.
Beauty and harmony.
The Rocky Mountain chapter of ICA&CA formed just over a year ago to remind people — architects and builders, but also homebuyers and renovators — of those age-old ideas of building design.
But that the group, which embraces Colorado, Utah, Wyoming, Montana and Idaho, seems to be catching on, surprises even its president Don Ruggles.
“I thought, no big deal, let’s just start with a few people,” says Ruggles, whose firm, DHR Architecture, has designed more than 700 residential and commercial projects in the state since 1970.
“We started with six people last October. Now we have 70, and we’re heading toward 100.” Scores more have shown up for the group’s lectures and tours.
The success reflects a national movement. When the Institute of Classical Architecture joined with Classical America in 2002, the combined funding allowed the New York-based organization to take on a broader platform and spread its message far and wide, says Henrika Taylor, senior vice president of the main chapter of the organization.
And that message: the classic ideas of architecture, of simple buildings inspired by geometric ideas, dressed up with columns and cornices, still matters. Especially in a world where architects can use computer modeling to create building that skip the basics.
The group formed in the early 1990s, says Taylor, when a group of architects started talking about “something they were missing” after their formal education.
“Generations of architects have come out of school without the basics. If you’re a writer, you need to understand grammar. If you’re a musician, you need to know scales. It’s the same with architects.”
Consider some of the famous Greek and Roman monuments, like the Parthenon in Athens, and you’ll start to understand classical architecture.
“And they’re all the original ‘green’ buildings,” Taylor says, pointing out that the thick walls and solid structures insulate and stand the test of time.
To drive this point home, all 14 chapters of the institute stress education and advocacy. Along with architects, the group draws artists, real estate agents, interior designers and others fascinated with the beauty of a great classical structure.
And it tries to put “classical” — a word that might be a turnoff for a design field focused on things new — in a contemporary context.
“A broader term would be traditional, with classical being an arm. What we’re trying to do — through scholarship, fellowship and education — is use the rich language that’s been practiced for so many years.”
Tale of two homeowners
It’s not hard to find touches of classical architecture along the Front Range. Many were created by the eccentric Jules Jacques Benedict, one of Denver’s most influential designers. His work, inspired by the Italian Renaissance Revival, defines classical architecture.
Benedict, who died in 1948, built public structures admired by many today, including the Washington Park boathouse, the chapel at St. Thomas Theological Seminary (now St. John Vianney Theological Seminary), and the Chief Hosa Lodge near Genesee.
While Benedict, schooled in Paris at the Beaux-Arts School of architecture, became an authority on church architecture, what you’ll see passing through several areas of Denver are residences that turn heads with their elegance and quirky characteristics.
Many Benedict homes are on the National Register of Historic Places, and they are just the type of buildings the ICA&CA hold up as examples of what ought to be both honored and preserved.
Of course, they don’t always have to convince homeowners of the structure’s intrinsic value.
Bob and Jane Nettleton, for example, fell in love with a Benedict home in southeast Denver and purchased it a few years back with the intent of restoring it to its original splendor.
“We used restored wavy glass on the windows and reclaimed oak floors,” Jane says. “As far as the bones of the house go, it was all here.”
She points to an oval window in the kitchen that she and her husband uncovered. Bob, a custom homebuilder, had a gentle touch with the grand old home, right down to the antique bolts in the French doors. The doors lead to a patio area, where a fountain trickles.
The two are selling their 4,795-square-foot chateau built in the early 1920s.
“I’ll miss it so much,” Jane says, walking into her office, a quirky semicircular room that overlooks the garden. “What’s unusual and wonderful is that you’re in the city, but you walk outside and you’re in an oasis.”
Benedict and other architects who left their touch on Denver with their classical architecture have this in common: The emphasis in their structures is on form, simplicity and proportion.
Ancient influences
Like architects from Greece and Rome, they valued the column and the pediment. Greek architects relied on the post- and-beam system, where the columns carry a load. Roman architects sometimes used columns, not only as a functional weight-bearing element, but as decoration. Inside, elegant archways draw people from room to room and delineate private and the more grand public rooms.
Only a five-minute drive from the Nettleton’s house, another Benedict creation catches the eye of passers-by.
Keith and Becky McCoy took a look at the exterior of the home, with ornamental brickwork, a barrel-tile roof and intricate Western detailing around the door, and thought they might be interested.
Then they took a step inside, saw the odd window shapes and the various arches leading through the home, and they knew they were hooked.
“I walked in and thought, this house looks like it has a story to tell,” says Becky. “It has character and class.”
Like the Nettletons, the McCoys took great care to bring the 1930 home back to its original splendor. Paned windows were uncovered, and the mantle was restored.
Jane looks up at the arched ceiling and smiles. “It’s like he (Benedict) decided to do a little bit of this and that. This is a funky house.”
They left their mark on Colorado
All are gone, but their legacy continues. Here’s a look at a handful of noted architects who offered a touch of “classicism” to the city and state:
Arthur Addison Fisher and William Ellsworth Fisher: To see the work of Fisher & Fisher, drive along some of the older neighborhoods in Cherry Creek and Capitol Hill. You’ll also see the work of the brothers when you drive by South High School, Voorhies Memorial in Civic Center and the Phipps Mansion (they worked with Charles A. Platt on this project).
Frederick Sterner and George Williamson: The Daniels & Fisher (D&F) Tower, a distinctive Denver landmark, was the tallest structure west of the Mississippi when it was built in 1910.
Frank Edbrooke: It would be a travesty not to mention the man who many considered the greatest architect in Denver in the late 1800s. If you don’t recognize the name, you certainly know his masterpieces. Among them, the Brown Palace Hotel, the Masonic Temple and the Oxford Hotel.
William Lang: Check out the Baker Historic District to see many of the small homes this architect designed. It’s a pity that he spent his final years destitute and in poor health. If you’ve visited the Molly Brown House, you’ve seen his work.
Learn more.
To learn more about the lives and artistry of Denver’s notable architects, get a copy of “Denver the City Beautiful and its Architects, 1893 to 1941,” by Tom Noel and Barbara Norgren, (published by Historic Denver, $19.95).
