Hull-House Highlights
"The Coffee
Room at Hull House"
Immigrants Congregating in Coffee House, ca.
1900.
The accompanying illustrations of the
interior of the new Hull House coffee-room needs to be observed
by an eye somewhat sophisticated in the ways of photographs. By
noticing the diminution of the furniture from the foreground to
the inmost recesses of the picture, one becomes aware of a room
that has an extensive long dimension, of which, however, only three-fourths
is shown in the photograph. A line taken at right angles to this
line of diminution will give the width – thirty feet –
in its relation to the length.
In order to clear the ground for somewhat of a panegyric, it is
necessary to admit that the new coffee-room – more in itself
than in the illustration – contains details which even to
a panegyrically inclined mind are indefensible. But while admitting
the existence of these blemishes, which are serious enough viewed
by themselves, they are yet almost neglectable quantities in view
of a certain characteristic that the room possesses. This quality,
which I wish to state as simply as possible, lies in the fact that
the room is structurally what is seems to be, and that for the most
part all charm of color and of texture proceeds directly from the
actual structural material.
This seems such a rational thing to do, that it is necessary to
remind ourselves that our usual custom is to build a very rough
brick wall, and to cover its roughness with plaster, the unpleasant
surface of which has in its turn to be covered with wall-paper or
color decoration. In this interior the architects, Messrs. Pond
and Pond, have eliminated this three-ply decoration, and have allowed
the structural brick-work and the tile arches to speak for themselves.
And very prettily they do so; with an accent that is clear and somewhat
distinguished. In front of any structure that has a form which,
culled from photographs of historical work, is merely the result
of good selective judgment, one has the feeling that the object
is very charming, and the knowledge that it might be equally so
under any one of half a dozen other forms, also cullable from photographs.
The spectator’s emotion on such occasions is that described
by Bunthorne as modified rapture. Mere selection of this sort might
have endowed the coffee-room with a full equipment of caissons,
volutes, and pediments, and a full-fledged classic ap- [end page
107] pearance, for instance; and the resulting rapture would, undoubtedly
have been largely modified, first by the query, “Why classic?”
and after by competing visions of a renaissance, a Gothic, or even
a rococo coffee-room. But when the ultimate appearance, as in the
major part of this example, is not something selected and nailed
on, but proceeds from an indigenous quality of the structure, the
emphasis and bringing out of which seems to be not only a good line
of conduct, but to be the only one; when the charm is integral to
the structure – then there is no dissipation of the attention
over the tinted possibilities of alternative appearances, but instead,
that direct aesthetic satisfaction which nothing but a lack of alternatives
can give. Criticism may then concern itself with the degree to which
this integration has been carried out; but in the present case,
in view of the fine dominating motive, such analysis might easily
become captiousness.
To sum up, the aesthetic quality is derived form the color and texture
and disposition of the actual constituent material. The bricks and
the terra-cotta blocks have each an evident function ability, usually
recognized, and an aesthetic quality, usually disregarded, especially
for interior work, and the finished appearance has been achieved
by allowing these aesthetic qualities to build up the aesthetic
structure, just as the structural qualities were used for the material
edifice. Considered in connection with the three-ply system, it
is what I should call decorative integration, [end page 108] or
a perfecting that which is; as opposed to applied decoration, or
a covering of the unpleasant by something frequently more unpleasant
still. This has resulted in a room which is a singularly good and
unaffected one. The social advantage of such a restaurant, in a
neighborhood which has had, as is usual in dense groups of the public,
no accommodation whatever of a dignified public nature, is too obvious
to need remark. [ends on page 109]
George M. R. Twose, “The Coffee-Room
at Hull House,” The House Beautiful VII, no. 2 (January 1900):
107-9.
Photograph credit: University of Illinois
at Chicago, The University Library, Department of Special Collections,
Jane Addams Memorial Collection, JAMC, neg. 137
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