MOULDINGS VIII - THE CYMA RECTA AND THE CYMA REVERSA

In contrast to the simple mouldings covered in previous posts, in which each moulding consists of a single curve, the cyma recta and cyma reversa are examples of compound mouldings: mouldings that consist of two or more curves. In the case of the cyma (from the Greek for ‘wave’) mouldings, there are two curves in each, an ovolo and a cavetto, arranged in series.

The cyma recta consists of an ovolo at the bottom and a cavetto at the top:

In the cyma reversa, the order is reversed, with the cavetto at the bottom and the ovolo at the top:

The cyma recta and cyma reversa are examples of the general group of compound curves known as ogees (pronounced with a soft g), defined as double curves or arcs, one concave and the other convex, joined at a point of inflection, and where the unjoined ends of the curves or arcs point in opposite directions and have parallel tangents; that is, if the ogee curve were in a road you were travelling on, you would be travelling in the same direction upon exiting the curve as you were when entering it. In the recta, the ends extend horizontally; in the reversa, they extend vertically.

In terms of their structural and psychological functions, the recta is a supporting moulding with an ‘upwards’ emphasis, and the reversa is a terminating moulding with an ‘outwards’ emphasis.

The cyma mouldings come in infinite varieties and expressions, depending on whether the curves used are arcs, ellipses, parabolas, or hyperbolas, and on the flatness or depth of the profile. The relative size of each curve in the profile can also be varied; a cyma reversa with a small cavetto topped by a large ovolo, for example, has a much more robust appearance than one with a large cavetto under a small ovolo.

Cymas are typically better employed as the uppermost or lowermost mouldings in a group than they are in an intermediate position. They are almost always combined with small fillets above and below, to isolate and define them against the background planes of the wall or soffit, or against other moulding profiles in the group.

As for remembering the difference between the two, all I could come up with is that the recta resembles a breaking wave, which, if you were surfing it, might mean you were about to get ‘rect’. Not great, but if you have a better mnemonic please let me know!

 

WINDOWS ARE PICTURES

WHEN YOU WANT to hang a picture in your house, you choose one with a size and shape that suits the wall and the room.  A rough rule of thumb is that you need to be able to stand at least as far away from a picture as the length of its diagonal: i.e., for a 3.0m x 4.0m picture, you need a room at least 5m deep.  Another way of looking at it is that the picture should lie completely within a solid angle (subtended from your eye) of no more than 40°.  That's why you don't put big paintings in hallways.

    Windows in modern buildings are basically designed to be ignored, regarded as just holes in the wall to be looked through, not at, but that wasn't always the case.  There's a lot to be said for dimensioning and placing a window in the same way as you would choose and hang a picture for a particular wall: by paying close attention to the subject (the view), the size, the proportions, and the frame.  It makes sense, for example, to leave some wall around the whole perimeter of the window, which preserves the legibility of each as separate elements, and allows the eye to either focus on the window and its view, or see the wall as a coherent whole.  If all the windows in the room are designed this way, the eye can flow right around the room without being visually ‘blocked,' and is able to perceive the continuity of the walls bounding the room, which gives a sense of containment and security.  This continuous band of wall between openings and the ceiling is called in Japanese ari-kabe, or ‘ant wall,’ supposedly because it would allow an ant to do laps of the room on this unbroken ‘track’.  

Somewhat ironically, advances in glassmaking technology have been a major factor in the degradation of windows as design elements. Traditionally, glass panes were created by ‘puddling’ (resulting in a characteristic ‘bullseye’ ripple pattern) or later by hand-blowing glass cylinders, cutting them open and flattening them out, resulting in relatively ‘flawed’ glass and small panes that could only be assembled into large windows by the use of muntins - the slim vertical and horizontal timber members that divide and hold the individual panes. These muntins and the bubbles, ripples and optical distortions of the glass give these windows great charm and make the windows impossible to ignore.

In light of all the above, it is a pity that these days the primary consideration when choosing windows for views seems to be raw size, to say nothing (for now) about the obvious shortcomings in thermal performance guaranteed by the heat pouring in or out of these vast expanses of glass (double glazed, low-e or not). Better that we conceive of windows as subjects worthy of contemplation in themselves, as well as portals to a view- as things to be looked at as much as through.

A framed view.

A framed view.

If you want to feel like you're outside, go outside.

Might be time to go outside?

 

MOULDINGS VII - THE THREE-QUARTER MOULDINGS

This post concludes the simple mouldings by covering both three-quarter mouldings in one go: the convex three-quarter round, and its concave counterpart the three-quarter hollow.  As the names suggest, these mouldings are formed from three-quarter arcs, giving two neat groups of arc mouldings as you ‘go around the clock’: the 90° ovolo – 180° torus – 270° three-quarter round convex arcs; and the 90° cavetto – 180° scotia – 270° three-quarter hollow concave arcs. 

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The three-quarter mouldings produce even darker and sharper shadows than the torus and the scotia. These are dramatic mouldings, and they play a prominent role in generating the undulating, dusky, mysterious atmospheres of gothic architecture.   The pendulous three-quarter round seems almost ready to drip from the wall; if too big, it will dominate and unbalance the composition, so is often used as a small bead rather than a larger round.  In contrast, the three-quarter hollow looks like like a breaking wave. If used as a ceiling moulding, it acts to detach the ceiling from the walls and give it the appearance of floating in space.  

When horizontal, the three-quarter mouldings are generally used above eye height, and they almost always face downwards; if facing upwards, they will fill with water or dirt. 

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MOULDINGS VI - THE HOLLOW AND THE SCOTIA

The convex torus covered in the last post has its corresponding concave forms: the simple hollow, and the closely related compound scotia.

The hollow is a concave half-circle; it can also be formed from deeper or shallower arcs or elliptical curves. Its scalloped profile makes it a separating moulding: it produces a strong, smooth shadow gradient, darkest at the top.

The scotia, from the Greek skotia meaning ‘dark, shadowy,’ is a compound curve consisting at its most basic of two arcs, arranged with the smaller radius arc at the top and the larger at the bottom, so that the lower end of the curve ‘runs out’ past the upper end. The two simplest scotia are (1) where the lower arc is twice the radius of the upper, sometimes referred to as the Greek scotia, and (2) where the lower arc is three times the radius of the upper, sometimes referred to as the Roman scotia. Note: you will find different definitions of and formulas for Greek and Roman scotia from different sources; in any case a reasonable generalisation for this and indeed for mouldings in general is that Greek moulding profiles tend to be ‘flatter’ with a sturdier presentation, whereas Roman mouldings are ‘deeper’ and more dramatic.

Bear in mind that these are only the two simplest scotia, and that more complex profiles can be constructed with three, four or even more arcs to achieve a variety of effects.

Greek scotia

A two arc 2:1 scotia

Roman scotia

A two arc 3:1 scotia

The scotia is often seen at the base of columns, as in the sequence found in the classical Ionic column, which goes, from top to bottom: fillet-torus-fillet-scotia-fillet-smaller torus-plinth. The out-in-out rhythm produces a dynamic effect that is harmonious without being monotonous or repetitive; the separating fillets between the curves give some spine to the composition and prevent it from becoming too ‘soppy.’ Note also the vertical hollows, called flutes, carved into the shaft of the column.

Ionic column base with fluted shaft

Ionic column base with fluted shaft

 

MOULDINGS V - THE TORUS AND THE BEAD

torus.jpg

Like the ovolo, the torus and the bead are simple convex mouldings, the difference being that where the ovolo is the arc of a quarter-circle, the torus and bead are arcs of semi-circles. They are often flanked above and below by fillets, which give them better definition and prevent the shadows they cast from obscuring the transition from bead to the underlying wall plane.

The distinction between torus and bead, like that between fascia and fillet, is only one of scale: when the profile is thick in relation to the overall composition, it is known as a torus; when thin, it is called a bead (or sometimes an astragal, especially if ornamented). Multiple beads arrayed side by side are known as reeding.

Beads and torii often serve the same auxilliary role as fillets and fascia, and could in fact be considered an extreme kind of ‘rounded fillet’, where the edges of the fillet are radiused to the point that the flat ‘face’ disappears as the rounded edges meet in the middle. The shadow gradient of a torus or bead is a smooth transition from full highlight at the top to full shadow at the base; these profiles produce a richer and more subtle effect than the sharp orthogonal contrasts of the flat-faced fillet and fascia.

Whereas the bead, like the fillet, is considered to be a separating moulding, the wider torus is a binding moulding: it acts to span the elements above and below it rather than severing them.

As convex mouldings, the bead and torus are robust and ‘forward’ in nature, and if over-used or over-sized in a composition can result in a crude or overpowering effect. They are more often seen at the bottom of compositions than at the top, and are usually employed in a supporting rather than a starring role.

A wide fascia topped with a bead is a common choice of profile for skirting boards, and weatherboards beaded along their lower edge can still occasionally be seen on colonial era houses in Australia.

A skirting board consisting of a fascia and bead, separated by a channel (sunk fillet)

The torus is a distinctive feature of the bases of classical columns (the exception being the baseless Doric order), where the bulge of the profile perfectly expresses the work being done by the base of the column in bearing its load, seeming almost to deform in the process. One theory on the origin of the torus in this application is that it represents the ropes once used to tie sacrificial victims to sacred trees, an account that sounds more fanciful than factual.

Two torii at the base of a column

Two torii at the base of a column

 

MOULDINGS IV - THE CAVETTO

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The cavetto (also known as the hollow or cove) is the concave counterpart of the convex ovolo: both take the form of a quarter-circle arc. But where the projecting mass of the ovolo conveys sturdiness and loadbearing ability, the hollowed-out cavetto is used to express delicacy and lightness, in particular as a crowning moulding (shown above) for ‘topping off’ a building, allowing it to ‘feather out’ at its highest point.

The shadow gradient of the cavetto is the reverse of the ovolo, being darker at the top and lighter at the bottom.  With the sun at 45°, the upper part of a downward-facing cavetto is about ½ shaded, transitioning smoothly to fully lit at the bottom.  The thin, fully-lit fillet that sits on the cavetto in the crowning moulding contrasts with the shaded upper part to bring a sharp definition to the feathered edge of the building.

Whether facing down or up, the cavetto also provides a simple and elegant way of transitioning from a vertical to a horizontal surface; it is still commonly seen in this role, as a plaster cornice covering the joint between wall and ceiling in many contemporary houses. 

 

 

BRICK CHIMNEYS

Traditionally, brick chimneys bricklayers a chance to show off their skills and creativity, without being too showy about it: chimneys are prominent on the building silhouette and visible from the street, but only if you make the effort to look up. Brick chimneys and fireplaces have almost disappeared from new house builds, reflecting the change over the years from coal or wood heating to gas and now split systems. Where new houses have chimneys at all, they are much more likely to be a simple steel pipe with a cowl, connected to a freestanding woodburning stove. But even before this transformation, the Great Scold modernism had stripped the ornament from chimneys as it had from all brickwork, and by the 1960s and 70s most brick chimneys were simple undecorated cuboids.

Who would be a bricklayer today? Nothing but course after course of stretcher bond veneer, with the occasional soldier course over a lintel if you’re lucky. Predictably, modern architects show almost no interest in the endless possibilities presented by the traditional language of brick masonry: bonds, cornices, string courses, arches, colour patterns, ‘special bricks’. Instead there is only stretcher bond, or at the other extreme, attention-seeking gimmicks such as incorporating text into the wall, or Frank Gehry-style ‘parametric’ brickwork- in its way just as mechanical and monotonous as stretcher bond, but somehow supposedly ‘clever’.

Below are a few photos of brick chimneys from the 19th and early 20th centuries, all taken within an area of a few blocks. They range from barely ornamented examples on weatherboard workers’ cottages to more elaborate displays featuring multiple colours and special brick shapes. As is typical of vernacular architecture, they are all more or less the same, and at the same time all different.

 
 

MOULDINGS III - THE OVOLO

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The ovolo is the simplest of the convex mouldings: its profile is a simple arc, usually of 90 degrees.  The uniform change in angle produces a correspondingly smooth shadow gradient: whether the ovolo faces up or down, the shadow transitions from light at the top to dark at the bottom. 

The convex ‘bulge' of the ovolo gives it a robust, dependable character; whether supporting a cornice or sitting at the base of a column or wall, it expresses a sense of resistance to gravity and muscular deformation under load.

Like the fillet and the fascia, the ovolo is still in common use, chiefly as the small timber moulding known as a quad, which is used to cover joints at 90 degree changes of angle such as that between a external brickwork and the eaves soffit, between a wall and kitchen cabinets, or as cheap skirtings or cornices in utilitarian rooms like toilets or laundries.

         

 

MOULDINGS II - THE FILLET & THE FASCIA

After the previous introductory post on mouldings, this and the next several posts in this series will examine the various basic moulding profiles, their uses and effects.

Moulding profiles can be grouped into four general categories: flat, convex, concave, and compound. The fillet and the fascia are the only common flat mouldings; they both present a flat vertical face that may be either raised forward of the supporting wall or sunk into it (then also sometimes called a channel). The distinction between a fillet and a fascia is only one of proportion: the height of the fillet face is typically equal to or only slightly greater than its projection/recess, whereas the fascia is much taller in relation to its projection.

These mouldings produce very sharp shadows. The shadow produced by a sunk fillet is ‘in’ the fillet itself, and is more intense than the shadow produced by a raised fillet, which appears below it. In this case the height of the shadow line varies in proportion to the depth of the fillet projection.

The lighting effects produced by fillets can be modulated in several ways: tilting the face back slightly makes it lighter than the background plane; tilting it forwards darkens the face relative to the plane. Rounding or bevelling the edges of the fillet softens the shading transition at these edges. The top surface of a raised fillet and the bottom surface of a sunk fillet may be given a slight fall, to better shed water and prevent accumulation of dirt.

In classical architecture, fillets and fascia are almost never used in isolation but as auxilliary elements that function to punctuate moulding compositions and define their edges, delineate curves, and give ‘spine’ to the overall composition. When used alone, they can have a stark effect; the sunk fillet in particular was employed to this end by modernists such as Mies to delineate elevator doors and the like.

fillet.jpg

Though the more complex curved and compound mouldings have mostly fallen out of favour, being perceived as too ornate, too costly or too ‘old-fashioned,' the fascia and the fillet are still in common use, thanks to their simplicity and utility.  The fascia in particular is mostly known today as the timber board used to protect the end grain of projecting rafters and support the eaves gutter, and as the simplest profile of skirting board and architrave.  

 
Skirting board with fascia profile

Skirting board with fascia profile

Architrave with fascia profile

Architrave with fascia profile

 

DOODLES

PLAYING AROUND with some ideas for what could be a formal gate, entry porch, garden pavilion, or the like. The process of trying to ‘freeze’ the essence of a freehand sketch into a measured drawing is always a challenge. Sometimes the essence is lost, sometimes you end up with something completely different. Here the proportions of the measured drawings have ended up squatter than the original sketch, and the curve of the arched entry is more regular, but somehow less ‘alive’.

 

MOULDINGS I - AN INTRODUCTION

 

TRADITIONAL BUILDINGS ARE articulate: composed according to an established grammar of parts and joints to form a coherent, hierarchical whole.  One particular characteristic that sets traditional architecture apart from modern, and by which traditional buildings express their articulated nature, is the use of ornamental mouldings: profiles formed in timber, stone or plaster which, when applied according to well-established rules, function to relate the parts of the building to one another through effects of light and shadow. 

From the early 20th century, modern architects, committed to the twin ideologies of social and technological progress, began to reject the ornamental tradition. After a century or more of this process of stripping away, buildings are now for the most part inarticulate, in both senses of the word: they don't have a grammar, and they don't have joints. 

The art of ornamental moulding is no longer taught in architecture schools, but could easily be revived.  There are only a handful of basic moulding profiles, and the rules of thumb governing their use can be found in old textbooks such as this one.

This post will be the first in an irregular series exploring the basic moulding profiles and how they are used, in the hope that it might be of some use to anyone interested in the topic or looking to use mouldings in their own work. Enjoy!

Example illustration from the book ”The Theory of Mouldings” by C. Howard Walker, 1926, linked above.

Example illustration from the book ”The Theory of Mouldings” by C. Howard Walker, 1926, linked above.


 

Hello

This blog will be a place to store and share my thoughts, opinions, ideas and inspirations relating mainly to traditional architecture and design, in particular vernacular architecture, but probably straying into other areas too. I will try to post at least once a week, on a more or less regular schedule…

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