The Alchemy of King’s College:
Further Speculations on Cambridge Architecture


As was very tentatively put forward in the article "Some ‘way
out’ speculations on the architecture of King’s College
Chapel. An amateur’s view" in issue number 50 of the
magazine CAMBRIDGE, a possible explanation for the ethos
of this college was the interior proportions of the Chapel.
This was expressed as an abstraction - the ratio 40:80:289 -
based upon the interior dimensions measured in feet. This
idea seemed to me sound for a while, but after time and
reflection I was left wondering if this is indeed the fullest
expression of the glory of King’s. I was left with nagging
thoughts that: 1) some parts of the exterior architecture of the
Chapel ought to be factored into any numerological
abstraction 2) the river front of the adjacent Gibbs Fellows’
Building must be factored in as well, and 3) these
abstractions ought to be expressed in the form of an
equation, showing that the majestic, problematic whole is
greater than the sum of the simpler parts.
To deal with the first point: King’s Chapel is not just its
interior space, wonderful though that may be. And I wonder if
architecture as such is finally only space. Focussing solely
upon the interior space leaves out the plastic, sculptural
beauty of the exterior forms. Fundamentally, in one view, the
outside architecture of the Chapel consists of 22 identical
buttresses and four corner towers. In their power,
redundancy and majesty these buttresses - 11 on the north,
11 on the south - and towers - two on the east, two on the
west - make a bold, direct and tremendous statement. The
four identical towers hold down the whole design at the four
corners, while the buttresses are a monumental foretaste of
what lies within. It is possible that we can abstract the
numbers 22 and 4 from these design elements, and add
them to the ratio already abstracted from the interior
dimensions - 4:22:40:80:289. If we follow our theory that
architecture at its most quintessential is a ratio of certain
numbers abstracted from those numbers already built into
the design, then we may conclude that the essence of King’s
Chapel is possibly this quintuple ratio.
On to the second point: the King’s experience at its most
basic is not just the Chapel, but must include the Gibbs
Fellows’ Building as well. These two buildings form the alpha
and omega of the essential King’s. A major sight in
Cambridge which has achieved icon status around the world
is surely the view from across the Backs of the west end of
the Chapel and the adjacent river front of the Gibbs Building
to the south.
Until the latter was built in the 18th century (1724-30) the
late Gothic Chapel (1446-1547) lacked a foil to complement
its detailed and rather ruthless verticals. Also missing was
something to give it scale. The Scot James Gibbs (1682-
1754) produced here an English baroque design which is a
perfect match for the Chapel, with strong horizontals to tone
down the spectacular architecture of the latter. And, without
the Chapel, Gibbs’s design is almost bland. But in the two
together we have an ideal marriage of contrasts. Whereas
the Chapel is of tawny honey-gold limestone, the Gibbs
structure is executed in a rather flat silver-grey Portland
stone. The former is masculine, the latter feminine; the former
Christian, the latter Pagan; the former the Sun, the latter the
Moon; the former a rooster, the latter a hen.
The broad expanse of the 17 void bays marching along in
stately, unhurried fashion across the front facing the Backs is
calm and serene, rather Irish in feel. The 21 bays of this
building facing King’s Parade create a busier effect. Some
might argue that this front is congested with windows. The
Backs are more pastoral in feeling, hence the wider
separation of the windows here to create a cerebral
evocation of classical antiquity as seen through the lens of
the 1700s. It also might be noted that the seven void bays to
the north of the central pavilion are those usually most
prominent in this building in views of both structures from the
west.
These two buildings form a fascinating juxtaposition which
draws the eye inexorably. Both Gothic and Classical, this
combination of the two creates a single indivisible entity and
works as architecture in landscape because one building
supplies what the other lacks. They balance perfectly. In the
case of the Gibbs river front, we can say that it completes,
possibly, once and for all, what was begun in the numerology
of the interior space and some of the exterior forms of the
Chapel.
Perhaps what is supplied by the Chapel - 4:22:40:80:289 -
is completed by Gibbs in the numbers 7 and 17 which we
may abstract from the disposition of the void bays on the west
front facing the River Cam. This then gives us the ratio of
7:17 which may be the essence of this facade.
And this brings me to my third point: that the synergy in and
complementarity of Chapel and Gibbs Building might be
expressed in an equation of sorts. The Perpendicular bluster
and fireworks of the Chapel in no way outdo or overpower
the equanimity and pre-Palladian enlightened serenity of the
quieter, smaller Fellows’ Building. The two buildings never
compete for our attention.
If we see the two as being stylistically and historically
different but together forming a really striking whole, then
perhaps we can propose an empirical formula to express
this. Let us call this ‘The King’s Constant’, and let us say that
it is encapsulated in the expression

4:22:40:80:289 + 7:17 = ?

Here the ratio on the left of the addition sign abstracted from
the Chapel is complementary to and balances with the ratio
on the right abstracted from the Gibbs Building.
This equation is a little picture of the two buildings side by
side as seen from the Queen’s Road, with the space
separating the two occupied by the addition sign. The
question mark is our symbol for the ineffable energy created
by the two buildings’ propinquity: an elusive ‘factor of
monumentality’, or even Clive Bell’s enigmatic ‘Significant
Form’ of 1913 taken from the world of two-dimensional
painting and applied here to the realm of large-scale
architecture in a semi-pastoral setting.
More aptly, perhaps, the question mark expresses the
aesthetic ambiguity existing between the styles of these two
buildings. The Gothic Chapel, for instance, is not a rambling
romantic thing but is as clear and simple and disciplined as
the Parthenon. The Fellows’ Building, too, in its way, is not as
Apollonian and unnuanced as at first appears. There are, for
instance, more void bays on the east front than the west. One
wonders just how this is worked out structurally on the inside.
Also, the 24 blind windows on the north and south ends are
in the agitated Counter-Reformation style of Michelangelo
and the Italian Mannerists. The overall calmness of the
Renaissance canon is ever so slightly distorted here in the
service of unnatural emotion.
These seven numbers in the form of a curious sum of ratios
are only perhaps the elemental criteria required to precipitate
a basic King’s ethos. This equation is possibly a general
empirical formula for the monumentality of King’s, or perhaps
all of Cambridge. Wherever this equation is present, so too is
the milieu of King’s. I think the chain of logic and reason
leads us to conclude that we could abstract these numbers
from the local Cambridge scene to make the essential King’s
ethos ‘portable’, and hence universal. They could be applied,
for instance, to the blank back of a map of the world in marker
dots of seven colours to generalise the Cambridge milieu
and ‘mass produce’ Cambridge states of mind for other
locations outside of, and unprotected by, the Cambridge
‘bubble’. This seems to me to be the next logical step if we
have indeed isolated and identified correctly the mysterious
and other-worldly essence of King’s College.
To conclude: the numbers present in certain design
elements act subliminally upon the environment to create an
overall, overarching, protecting sense of benevolent Mind.
The local Cambridge æther is penetrated through and
through with this sense: it contributes to the atmosphere of
the place. As an aesthetic abstraction able to stand on its
own feet in universal applications, (as I speculate above) this
formula might just express what we are - at bottom -
subliminally feeling when we encounter here true, complete
and royal glory in the sublime experience called King’s
College, Cambridge. The numerical, higher reality of our
empirical formulation is at work behind all and in all to
produce a breathless icon.