ignore scale, particularly today when so many building components are standardized. But adjusting the size of a baseboard, say, to the size of a room, or the proportion of a window to the proportion of a wall, is one of the simplest way to achieve architectural distinction.
Palladio had this to say about scale: “Beauty will derive from a graceful shape and the relationship of the whole to the parts, and of the parts among themselves and to the whole, because buildings must appear to be like complete and well-defined bodies, of which one member matches another and all the members are necessary for what is required.” 10 That is why his drawings of ancient buildings were full of dimensions. It was not only the actual size of things that concerned him, but alsothe correct relationship between the different parts. Once this relationship was established, any element of classical architecture could be proportionately enlarged or reduced. Corinthian columns could rise the full height of the nave at the church of Il Redentore, support lower arches over side chapels, and also carry miniature pediments in the altarpiece.
The harmonious combination of different scales sets classical architecture apart from the preceding Gothic style, which used the pointed arch motif at a single scale. 11 The rediscovery of scale was one of the great accomplishments of the Renaissance, and Palladio, like his contemporaries, manipulated scale to produce different effects. Classical elements such as columns could be made larger or smaller, more or less delicate, more or less monumental, to alter the atmosphere of a building or a room. For example, the Saraceno loggia is wider than the loggia of the Villa Godi, and has correspondingly larger piers, imposts, and base moldings. But whereas the Godi loggia recedes (literally, by being recessed into the house), the Saraceno loggia asserts itself by jutting forward about six inches from the façade. Palladio further emphasized this effect by creating an incised masonry pattern—now almost worn away—on the front of the loggia, but leaving the walls of the house plain to create a contrast. 12 On the other hand, assertive as the loggia is, its scale is commensurate with the scale of the façade, which is why we don’t feel overwhelmed; it’s big, but it doesn’t feel big.
V ILLA S ARACENO
The presence of small and large scales, and the rapport between the parts, accounts, I think, for the sense of well-being that the villa conveys. As Palladio beautifully put it, he aimed to build “in such a way and with such proportions that together all the parts convey to the eyes of onlookers a sweet harmony.” 13 This is not exciting architecture; indeed, it is the opposite of exciting—it is composed, serene, ordered. The Renaissance produced many great architects—Brunelleschi was the most daring, Bramante the most inventive, Giulio the most expressive, Michelangelo the most iconoclastic—but in his calm, considered way, Palladio has been more influential than any of them. Generation after generation of architects, professionals and amateurs, aristocrats and commoners, have come to the Veneto, seen his architecture, and fallen under his spell.
Palladio is an architect whose personal style became a Style. The eighteenth-century Scottish architect Robert Adam is another rare example; so is the nineteenth-century American master H. H. Richardson. Palladio was so widely imitated not because he was easy to copy but because the principles that underlie his style were easy to understand, and because his classically inspired vocabulary of architectural elements was rich enough to provide his followers with the means to express their own ideas, whether they were Inigo Jones, James Gibbs, or Thomas Jefferson. Thanks to this suppleness, Palladio’s style returned not once but several times, and will likely do so again in the future.
Palladio’s architecture is a combination of mathematics, especially geometry,