Crafting Luxury with ‘More-ish’ Qualities …
143
ready to grow to serve the risen Pharaoh), until the 1903 discovery of millions of
skeletons of “Bufo regularis”—the common African frog—in the remains of ancient
Egyptian workers’ buildings on the Giza Plateau’ (quoted in [39]). ‘Although this
amphibious exhumation’ and connection to brickmaking ‘was not well known other
than by historians and palaeontologists, the Victorian trades embraced this romantic
[sic] custom during the industrial revolution, and it’s been with us ever since, albeit
buried’ (quoted in [39]). At any rate, ‘frogs were a significant improvement in the
moulding, firing and laying of bricks, for several reasons. They saved a significant
amount of clay, reducing the intensive labour of excavating and preparing clay, and
lessened the weight of bricks for easier transport. They allowed for faster drying of
green bricks before firing and promoted better internal firing of bricks … frogs could
also help in making taller bricks; thereby improving bonding’ [38, pp. 54–55].
By the early twentieth century, however, ‘frogging machine’ contraptions and
portable brick presses became outmoded. Whichever craft process was acceptable
at that time, live or artificial in-fills, have most definitely altered the ‘frog’ bricks
during industrialisation. This is especially the case in Britain when patented ‘frogging
machines’ led to the manufacturing of hollowed shaped bricks so builders could
place their markings on the indentation of the brick. Initially, an insensitive trade,
the making and branding of bricks was deceptive but became more transparent.
Consequently, the brickmaking trade was replaced by a bewitched craft, which was
supposedly considered more genuine as it was guarded by its indented markings.
Sennett believes solid bricks were ‘honest’ in the sense that:
all the bricks laid, say, in a Flemish bond course comes from the same kiln, and even more,
‘honest’ brick evokes a building surface in which the brickwork is exposed rather than
covered over; no cosmetics, no ‘pots of whore’s rouge’ have been applied to its face. One
reason for this shift was that masons were beginning to be aware of, and feel engaged in,
debates about the meaning of naturalness as opposed to artifice—the great Enlightenment
preoccupation about nature brought home to the proper use of a natural material.
The work these metaphors did on bricks can be understood through the attitudes we now
harbour about organic food. Strictly speaking, organic food refers to purity of substance and
minimal manipulation in production [42].
Honest bricks though are not always authentic. It all depends on their materiality make-up. Glazes alter the natural process. Nonetheless, the thought of charring
bricks with real frogs defied nature. This natural-artificial technique did not render
an organic or sustainable practice, but there is an important case for repositioning
how the connection to food and its transformation within architectural compositions.
‘Improvisation is a user’s craft. It draws on the metamorphoses of type-form over
time’ and ‘in craftwork, people can and do improve’ [42]. Something more-ish in an
artificial sense (and not culturally Moorish) is, therefore, a useful device for analysing
the crafted luxury-impulses of within Marrakech’s museum.
Drawing upon the theory of craft and its enduring human impulses relate to the
attractive and transmissible ornament of brick-laying patterns. This includes the
breathable brick screens (or brise-soleil) (Fig. 10). Enabling one to appreciate how
organic materials relay alternative views relating to art and gastronomy. In other
words, baking bricks links with cooking food as well as the desire to sense more of
143
ready to grow to serve the risen Pharaoh), until the 1903 discovery of millions of
skeletons of “Bufo regularis”—the common African frog—in the remains of ancient
Egyptian workers’ buildings on the Giza Plateau’ (quoted in [39]). ‘Although this
amphibious exhumation’ and connection to brickmaking ‘was not well known other
than by historians and palaeontologists, the Victorian trades embraced this romantic
[sic] custom during the industrial revolution, and it’s been with us ever since, albeit
buried’ (quoted in [39]). At any rate, ‘frogs were a significant improvement in the
moulding, firing and laying of bricks, for several reasons. They saved a significant
amount of clay, reducing the intensive labour of excavating and preparing clay, and
lessened the weight of bricks for easier transport. They allowed for faster drying of
green bricks before firing and promoted better internal firing of bricks … frogs could
also help in making taller bricks; thereby improving bonding’ [38, pp. 54–55].
By the early twentieth century, however, ‘frogging machine’ contraptions and
portable brick presses became outmoded. Whichever craft process was acceptable
at that time, live or artificial in-fills, have most definitely altered the ‘frog’ bricks
during industrialisation. This is especially the case in Britain when patented ‘frogging
machines’ led to the manufacturing of hollowed shaped bricks so builders could
place their markings on the indentation of the brick. Initially, an insensitive trade,
the making and branding of bricks was deceptive but became more transparent.
Consequently, the brickmaking trade was replaced by a bewitched craft, which was
supposedly considered more genuine as it was guarded by its indented markings.
Sennett believes solid bricks were ‘honest’ in the sense that:
all the bricks laid, say, in a Flemish bond course comes from the same kiln, and even more,
‘honest’ brick evokes a building surface in which the brickwork is exposed rather than
covered over; no cosmetics, no ‘pots of whore’s rouge’ have been applied to its face. One
reason for this shift was that masons were beginning to be aware of, and feel engaged in,
debates about the meaning of naturalness as opposed to artifice—the great Enlightenment
preoccupation about nature brought home to the proper use of a natural material.
The work these metaphors did on bricks can be understood through the attitudes we now
harbour about organic food. Strictly speaking, organic food refers to purity of substance and
minimal manipulation in production [42].
Honest bricks though are not always authentic. It all depends on their materiality make-up. Glazes alter the natural process. Nonetheless, the thought of charring
bricks with real frogs defied nature. This natural-artificial technique did not render
an organic or sustainable practice, but there is an important case for repositioning
how the connection to food and its transformation within architectural compositions.
‘Improvisation is a user’s craft. It draws on the metamorphoses of type-form over
time’ and ‘in craftwork, people can and do improve’ [42]. Something more-ish in an
artificial sense (and not culturally Moorish) is, therefore, a useful device for analysing
the crafted luxury-impulses of within Marrakech’s museum.
Drawing upon the theory of craft and its enduring human impulses relate to the
attractive and transmissible ornament of brick-laying patterns. This includes the
breathable brick screens (or brise-soleil) (Fig. 10). Enabling one to appreciate how
organic materials relay alternative views relating to art and gastronomy. In other
words, baking bricks links with cooking food as well as the desire to sense more of