into the interior. The interval between them is very variable. In
some of the villas of highest pretensions, such as those on the banks of
the Brenta, that of Isola Bella, and others, which do not face the
south, it is not much more than the breadth of the two architraves, so
that the rooms within are filled with light. When this is the case, the
windows have friezes and cornices. But, when the building fronts the
south, the interval is often very great, as in the case of the Villa
Porro. The ground-floor windows are frequently set in tall arches,
supported on deeply engaged pilasters as in the Villa Somma-Riva. The
door is not large, and never entered by high steps, as it generally
opens on a terrace of considerable height, or on a wide landing-place at
the head of a flight of fifty or sixty steps descending through the
gardens.
124. Now, it will be observed, that, in these general forms, though
there is no splendor, there is great dignity. The lines throughout are
simple to a degree, entirely uninterrupted by decorations of any kind,
so that the beauty of their proportions is left visible and evident. We
shall see hereafter that ornament in Grecian architecture, while, when
well managed, it always adds to its grace, invariably takes away from
its majesty; and that these two attributes never can exist together in
their highest degrees. By the utter absence of decoration, therefore,
the Italian villa, possessing, as it usually does, great beauty of
proportion, attains a degree of elevation of character, which impresses
the mind in a manner which it finds difficult to account for by any
consideration of its simple details or moderate size; while, at the same
time, it lays so little claim to the attention, and is so subdued in its
character, that it is enabled to occupy a conspicuous place in a
landscape, without any appearance of intrusion. The glance of the
beholder rises from the labyrinth of terrace and arbor beneath, almost
weariedly; it meets, as it ascends, with a gradual increase of bright
marble and simple light, and with a proportionate diminution of dark
foliage and complicated shadow, till it rests finally on a piece of
simple brilliancy, chaste and unpretending, yet singularly dignified;
and does not find its color too harsh, because its form is so simple:
for color of any kind is only injurious when the eye is too much
attracted to it; and, when there is so much quietness of detail as to
prevent this misfo
|