A Correlation of Geography and Architecture
A
RCHITECTURE is a study which seems to be quite apart from all others it seems to be a form of art which reflects the thoughts or ideas of a person, although this is not always possible.  A splendid picture arises in the mind of the artist, and the result is a good painting, as near as possible to his concept; nothing hampers him from executing on canvas that which he conceives in his mind.  This is not always the case with the architect; he cannot always build that which he conceives.  There are many factors which contribute to a beautiful church, but one of these factors seems to be understressed, and that is the factor of local topography: in other words, the architect is limited in his material.  In these days of modern transport this would appear strange, but we must remember that the great architectural wonders of Britain can be dated between 1066 and 1500, embracing Norman and Gothic types.  The usual course of things then would be for the architect to use the nearest available material.  A building of this period would, therefore, reflect the surrounding districts, and would be closely related to the topography of that region.
We have now to consider how this can be applied to the architectural buildings in Great Britain.  Take for the first instance, Salisbury Cathedral, a Gothic masterpiece.  The factor of rock must be considered.  Salisbury is situated on Chalk Downs, and the cathedral is built of a stone easily moulded to the architect’s desires.  The result is one of the finest and most beautiful buildings in England.  If we consider that same architect or artist (they are both one and the same) had planned his Cathedral in a granite or limestone region, a startling question arises.  Should we be poorer by such a beautiful Cathedral?  Rock material is only one factor in many, but would it be sufficient to influence the distribution of such fine conditions?  Other examples suggest the same thought, and topography, as a factor, certainly warrants more attention.
It is possible to correlate these facts to the position of beautiful churches in Wales.  This country is very poor in such examples, and it might possibly be argued that Wales is poor in good building stone.  Brecon Cathedral is certainly a fine study, but the main impression on first seeing it is one of strength, and lack of external decorations becomes evident.  Its massiveness has always been attributed to the disorder of the country at the time of building—it was almost a fort, but can we work in the geographical factor?  I do not think that disorders would have deterred the artist from finding means of expression.  The stone used, however, was most unsuitable for this, and the tools were primitive.  The interior of the Cathedral again conveys the idea of massiveness, but it is lightened considerably by clusters of delicate pillars, which really constitute all the decoration, for there is practically no decoration in the true sense of the word, such as leafy capitals and bosses, carved figures, and pierced tracery.  If Brecon Cathedral had been planned on chalk downs, should we have had another such building as Salisbury Cathedral?
The relation of Architecture to Geography with regard to woodland areas is best shown by secular architecture, though it extends into ecclesiastical buildings as well.  A visit to Stratford-on-Avon will convince one of the importance of wood in the building of Elizabethan houses.  We might even suggest the dominance of wood in this district, for the area is well-wooded.  The dominance is further emphasised by the fact that churches were also built in this fashion, with lavish use of beams in the exterior.