The Royal Institute of British Architects has been reinventing itself of late: The esteemed organization has recently announced a newly elected president, a new website, and a new approach to exhibitions as it attempts to modernize and reaffirm its relevance to a fresh generation of millennial architects and students. Some things, though, need only be revisited to be appreciated anew, such is their class. The timeless designs of Charles Rennie Mackintosh are one such example, and I visited the RIBA headquarters in London this week for a sneak preview of the much-anticipated exhibition of the Scottish master’s work.
The huge wooden doors of the architecture gallery open up to an introductory room, comprising a large and complex timeline on one wall and a majestic oil portrait of Mackintosh on the other, the latter painted by Francis Newbery, headmaster of the Glasgow School of Art — the building widely regarded as the architect’s defining masterpiece.
Moving through to the next space, I was greeted with a bounty of drawings from Mackintosh’s days working as a draughtsman at Glaswegian firm Honeyman and Keppie. These are primarily institutional and commercial projects realized in the 1890s, and display a subtle but significant transition from the traditional Scottish style to more modern, pared-down designs — customizations that the 19th-century public considered to be daring in the extreme.
The Glasgow Herald Building, 1894
What struck me above all else was the extraordinary level of detail in each and every drawing. From afar, Mackintosh’s drawings are most notable for their unconventional perspective view, which he used to give key parts of a building added prominence — one such example being the tower of the Glasgow Herald Building, set against a characteristically dramatic sky.
Up close, though, the architect’s finely inked lines take on a whole new significance: Looking closely at everything from chunks of stone ornamentation to the leaves of every tree, you can clearly make out the distinctive swirls of Mackintosh’s organic Art Nouveau style, intricacies that he would ultimately become world famous for.
St. Matthew’s Church, Glasgow…
…and in detail.
Before the third room, a sectional model of the Glasgow School of Art is displayed. This moody backlit installation has added poignancy when you learn of its origins: the model was rescued from the School after the catastrophic fire that destroyed Mackintosh’s celebrated library in May last year. The iconic oriel windows are visible to the rear, along with the elegant suspended light fittings and integrated timber cabinetry; since the model stands at eye level, one can peer into the building to get a sense of the space, making this a valuable accompaniment to the adjacent drawings.
Glasgow School of Art, sectional model detail.
In the final room, the typology shifts to Mackintosh’s reinvention of residential architecture, encapsulated by a beautiful collection of hand-drawn plans and elevations, detailing the ‘dwelling houses’ designed by the architect in the early 1900s. These include Mackintosh’s most well known private commissions, such as Hill House, a triumph in Art Nouveau finesse — signature features include the asymmetrical disposition of windows, picturesque profile, and radical paring-away of molding and ornamentation.
Hill House.
One of the greatest successes of the exhibition lies in its accessibility: The curators recognized that it is not always easy for people appreciate how Mackintosh’s two-dimensional plans, sections, and elevations translate into a three-dimensional building. To address this, scale models of four of the architect’s unrealized dwelling houses have been meticulously constructed, giving the general public a much more tangible idea of Mackintosh’s vision.
Models of Mackintosh’s unrealized houses.
The exhibition inevitably evokes mixed feelings: Awe at the wonderful draughtsmanship, increasingly a lost art in the digital age, is tinged with a touch of sadness when you consider what might have been. Many of Mackintosh’s designs were too forward-thinking and radical to be embraced by the public — particularly in London, the host city for this exhibition — and much appreciation of the architect’s work came only after his death in 1928. However, beyond the groundbreaking attempts to fuse traditional Scottish architecture with the brave new world of modernism, this collection works best as simple celebration of drawing, a demonstration of how the pen can still be mightier than the computer mouse.
Speaking of which, I think I’ll go and blow the dust off my sketchbook…
Yours intricately,
The Angry Architect
Mackintosh Architecture exhibition is on view at the RIBA Headquarters at 66 Portland Place, London, W1B, until May 23, with free entry.