14 FEBRUARY 1998, Page 32

ARTS

Principle and practice

Gavin Stamp on how the aims of the Prince of Wales's Institute of Architecture are being undermined The Prince of Wales's Institute of Architecture was founded a mere six years ago. In his inaugural speech, its eponymous patron expressed his 'heartfelt hope that the students will be able/ to learn specific things — largely forgotten today — which will set the architecture of the future on a more realistic basis, less controlled by images and fantasy as unfortunately the architecture of the last 50 years has often been. Instead I hope it can be based on real principles and on factual knowledge about the nature of space, which unites objective knowledge with profound human feeling.'

All very sensible, as was his hope that the students would 'appreciate that there are certain timeless values which we can learn from the past, and apply to the future. I would like the students to learn that in order to be able to design with sensitivity and an appropriate sense of reverence for the natural surroundings, they first need to learn humility and how to submerge the inevitable egocentric tendencies that we all experience.' As, in most conventional schools of architecture, many members of staff still think they are solving the prob- lems of 1964 and many students simply want to be Lord Rogers of Riverside, a new, alternative school of architecture was surely a good idea.

So it has been interesting to watch the Institute struggle to establish itself. It was a bold and a brave venture, and it certainly had to fight. No one outside the introvert- ed world of architecture can really compre- hend the depth of hatred most architects have had for the Prince of Wales since his Hampton Court 'carbuncle' speech in 1984, making anything associated with his name suspect. The assumption has been, there- fore, that the Institute must be a sort of genteel finishing school where students study the Orders only in order to wear suits and design Classical country houses like Quinlan Terry.

. This has never been so. What has Impressed me about the Institute's basic foundation course is an openness to a wide range of different approaches to architec- ture together with an emphasis on practical matters: drawing and making. And what I do know is that, at the Mackintosh School of Architecture in Glasgow where I teach, we have had a few very good students come on from the Institute. Perhaps they would have flourished in any institution, but they had a breadth and independence of mind which were refreshing.

One of these students, who was not at first sure whether he wanted to be an archi- tect or a sculptor, went to the Institute in its first year. He was attracted by the objec- tives of the course and its philosophical aspects — and was not disappointed. Although he found the teaching 'quite ide- ological', with modernism presented as an `evil' (rather than as the only truth, as in most schools), there was a wide variety of approaches offered. Indeed, the various tutors, grouped into factions, undermined each other. Although there was the pure gospel of Classicism preached by ardent disciples like Julian Bicknell, there was also an 'organic' school inspired by the weird, anthropomorphic timber buildings of the Hungarian, Imre Macovecz. And then there was the group therapy offered by the Californian guru, Christopher Alexander, as well as the practical application of Arts and Crafts philosophy offered by quiet, persevering practitioners like the sculptor and carver, Dick Reid.

But that was all at the beginning. Alan Powers, the Institute's librarian — who was instrumental in securing for it the late Sir John Summerson's books — is convinced that it offers something which no other school is doing. But he sometimes despairs of attitudes both within and without. With- in, the Classicists have been narrow, refus- ing to accept that there may be more than one road to salvation, while the hostile, blinkered attitude of the architectural pro- fession outside — especially the RIBA only confirmed his worst fears.

But, as his readers in The Spectator will know, Powers has a wise and undoctrinaire view of architecture. 'What the world won't understand,' he laments, 'is that what the Institute is about is very close to mod- ernism — to me, the good modernism.' That is, social purpose and good building. The last few years have seen a creative rec- onciliation between the opposing camps in the style wars of the 1980s, and the Insti- tute has reflected this. But Powers com- plains that the real positive nature of the project has only really been discussed in Perspectives on Architecture. And that admirable publication has now been assas- sinated.

It is now clear that the Prince of Wales's Institute of Architecture is most threatened not from without but from within. Another recent victim is the graduate programme. Some, like the engineer Alan Baxter, were always opposed to this three-year course as they wanted the Institute to be a college of practitioners rather than something too academical. But, for one student, the pro- gramme had an emphasis on the real pro- cess of building which made the Institute a sympathetic place, very different from most schools. Indeed, he found that it exceeded his expectations and that, behind the Insti- tute's often unfortunate public image, there was a 'sub-culture' which was extremely interesting and positive.

But it was always under threat — partly because most students were on scholar- ships and few actually paying. Last April the Prince of Wales himself insisted that he would not countenance the closure of the course and a review panel set up under the architect Robert Adam came out unequiv- ocally in support of the programme. But the recommendations were ignored and, in December, the Council confirmed the worst. Both the graduate programme and Perspectives would seem to be victims of the shake-up in the private office of the Prince of Wales partly occasioned by the death of the Princess of Wales. His advisers (and the government?) wish to reduce his involvement in controversial matters, one of which is architecture. So the Institute's new head is Adrian Gale who, as he once worked in the office of Mies van der Rohe, is perceived as a 'modernist' and so under- mining everything the Institute was found- ed to promote.

In fact, as former head of the Plymouth School of Architecture, Professor Gale's qualifications are admirable and, if he is given the chance to get the Institute out of its smart premises next to Regent's Park and into a warehouse, he might give it a future. His wife, who is a judge; is a friend of Lady Browne-Wilkinson, chairman of the Institute's Council, who is the lawyer who acted for Camilla Parker Bowles in her divorce. Indeed, what is extraordinary is that the new Council, which succeeded the sudden purge of the old one last year, is dominated by lawyers and contains not a single architect. Certainly, the Institute needed reform — financial rigour seems not to have been its strong point — but with such people in charge the fear is it has no future at all.

When I talk to people involved with the Institute, a consistent complaint emerges that it simply has not been allowed the time to pursue its aims. All institutions — par- ticularly educational ones — need to settle down and grow. Instead, the Institute has been beset by rapid changes of direction and indecision. The initial Director of Studies, Brian Hanson, was replaced by Richard John, who was soon succeeded by Richard Hodges. One ex-student comment- ed on the lack of self-belief among the staff, as if they were surprised that the place was still going. And in this the Prince of Wales himself must be held responsible. Certainly the Institute could never have been set up without his support and his ability to raise large sums from the likes of the Sultan of Brunei, but — like many of great wealth separated from the ordinary world — the Prince of Wales seems ready to act on the advice of the last person he spoke to.

Politics within the Institute were always vicious, with a factional culture of back- stabbing which was extreme even by the standards of academic institutions. So the casualty list from the Prince's involvement in architecture — either because the indi- viduals were seduced by the royal aura or simply as a result of his changes of mind is already long. Watching it all from a safe distance, seeing the undermining of high hopes and worthy aims, has given me an acute understanding of what, say, the court of Louis XV must have been like. I cannot say it has all been enough to make me a modernist, but one does begin to see the point of republicanism.