Holy Trinity, Stratford-Upon-Avon: South side extension 2015-16
We are conservation architects, dealing only with historic buildings and sites, but that does not mean that our work is without its intellectual challenges. Indeed, the practice of conservation architecture seems to be the only field of architecture where there are opportunities for creating durable work, using the right materials and working with craftsmen, in the current climate where there is so little to admire in contemporary design.
The influence of the Arts and Crafts movement runs very deep in our work and is our touchstone. The Arts and Crafts asked difficult questions with which we still struggle. How to value the skilled work of a craftsman’s hand in a society where the lowest tender wins? How to justify the use of local materials when foreign or modern materials can be obtained at lower cost? How should new design appear in the context of a historic setting? How to create work in no particular style but which possesses ‘style’? The Arts and Crafts gave birth to three organisations which still address these questions: the Society for the Protection of Ancient Building (SPAB); the Art Workers Guild (AWG); and the National Trust. All three form part of the working life at Oliver Architecture.
One theme, which we discuss at length in the office, is how we should make interventions in historic settings. It seems that there are two contrasting methods in common use, both of which can be easily understood, but neither seem to provide the required complexity suitable for important buildings, and the result is a dearth of good work in the industry. Pastiche, on one hand, offers no opportunity for the development of an architectural language and reflects a lack of confidence. Modernism, on the other hand, revels in sharp contrasts and exhibits over confidence, verging on arrogance.
Our interventions aim to take advantage of a language which is universally understood, based on the honest use of durable materials, stone, oak, lime, but we also aim to introduce something which will allow the architectural historians of the future to ‘read’ the history of a building. This allows new work to harmonise visually with the old, to develop its own patina, whilst retaining its own authenticity.
St. Mary, Adderbury: Repaired Gargoyle 2019
Through our explorations of historic buildings, we know that archaeological clarity can be achieved without making sharp contrasts between new and old. This might be something as simple as a datestone, or as complex as a material change - the use of red tile or slate can distinguish an area of new work from old. Subtle contrasts, perhaps using the same materials, but with a slight difference in textures, or mortars, for example can also be used. Our work does not imitate historic architecture but instead emulates it. We know that there are numerous instances of architects in the past extending buildings in a subtly contrasting way- one well known example is the completion of the Nave at Westminster Abbey by Henry Yevele from the late 14th century, following the pattern of the eastern bays where work had ceased in the 1270s. Working at Oriel College, Oxford, we noted a similar desire in 1719-20 for work to be “answerable to the rest of the college” built c.1637-42. There are countless other examples
The question of “inevitability” was something which was often discussed during Stephen's training in the office of the great ecclesiastical architect, Stephen Dykes Bower. Dykes Bower strove to ensure that his designs harmonised with their setting, such that they appear a natural development - the only, inevitable solution which could be considered. This is much, much harder than it sounds – making a contrasting design is easier, particularly if you are less ambitious. We find an echo here of Philip Webb’s comment that “I never begin to be satisfied until my work looks commonplace”. That is simple, unostentatious, restrained, and dignified - a design which does not call attention to itself but comfortably takes its place
Oliver Architecture may appear parochial, but we have wide-ranging tastes. Stephen has been fascinated by the adoption of Arts and Crafts ideals in Scandinavia, which moved from National Romanticism, to Doricism, to a more humane version of Modernism. Architects such as Aalto, Asplund and Lewerentz instinctively understood much of the good sense of an architect like Philip Webb, creating designs which had their own integrity but which sat harmoniously in their setting, deferring to historic structures such as the Gothenburg law courts, and exploring the use of a single material like brick at Klippan church. Their work provides hope that there is a way of creating a truly contemporary architecture, including interventions in historic settings, which combines the use of natural and traditional materials without the need for stylistic revival or violent contrasts.