Pt. 1: The Body
For the first time in history, a glass building had been adapted for public use. Joseph Paxton was not only able to produce a grand, convincing design, he proved that it could be built before the opening (something the others could not guarantee). Adapting a glasshouse for such a grand event was a challenge he had posed to himself earlier when he designed the Chatsworth house in Bakewell. The transition between the two projects is a beautiful metaphor of metamorphosis, where a structure used for the preservation and “exhibition” of plants was adapted for an exhibition of human artefacts. According to Schoenefeldt, 2011, “He (Paxton) argued that his proposals had been informed by his previous experience with conservatory design, claiming that he had validated the effectiveness of his ventilation and cooling strategy through small-scale experiments at Chatsworth.” It was here he came up with ideas like the staggered design, furrowed panels with gutters, and top and bottom located ventilators, which would go on to be defining elements of the Great Exhibition building. He was lucky to be at the right place in the right time to submit this proposal, but the lesson still remains that Paxton’s untiring exploration, without the obvious motive of the Exhibition proved to be the idea which made history—and also, the idea in which history was made.
His idea to re-use the building was quite interesting too. The first proposal was a chest hospital (mainly tuberculosis), which could benefit greatly from the nature present in and around the glasshouse. He even designed mechanical heating and cooling devices, and emphasized on the importance of plants in regulating air quality. Schoenefeldt (2011) records for us that “Various medical Metropolitan Sanitary Association supported Paxton' s proposal, his ideas embodied wider contemporary scientific theories daylight and fresh air for good health.” The lessons from Paxton’s ideas are simple yet profound; he recognized the group which could benefit most from a design abundant in sunlight and fresh air, and the symbiotic relationship between plants and animals, where the one produces what the other needs—in a sense he was addressing their psychological needs too.
Pt. 2: The Soul
The Exhibition was also a cultural greenhouse, since it encouraged the growth, cross pollination and exposition of great ideas between the nations. It sparked the curiosity of many visitors, edifying them, rather than entertaining them. This can manifest itself in many ways; a particular vase, with Greek origins, was adapted by the French as a motif in their own designs, but was ultimately mass-produced in English workshops! What a journey for an idea. This back and forth between cultures pushed them to compete between each other, where the need to outdo was the driving factor behind the making of historic objects! Sadly, wars, and weaponry are a grim reminder of the dark side of this intellectual tussle between industry and craftsmen. To all the politicians I say, the next time you want to prove your superiority, try vases!
Another example is the India Pavilion—it was so rich and moving, that it inspired a certain Mr. Lockwood Kipling to pursue a career in design. An Englishman by birth, after the exhibition he travelled to Mumbai in 1865 and enrolled at the Sir J.J School of Art, and designed sculptural decorations for the historic Victoria Terminus. In the following years, he devoted his time to the study of traditional Indian arts and crafts, documenting them and campaigning for their preservation. The stunning exhibition placed a burden on an Englishman’s heart to help conserve our own heritage!
A big takeaway from this is the power of art. It moves. It ignites. It is the ever-potent weapon of the craftsman to produce emotions from the most hardened of men. The Exhibition made this clear, as everyone from the proletariat to the kings were fascinated by the marvels on display—this was only because of its presentation and curation; the body and the soul. This synchronous dichotomy of parts at that time in history is what made the Great Exhibition the spectacle it was. One could learn and apply these principles quite well for making a cup of tea, even. Carefully examined, we live, as tiny creators, making things for ourselves, but scarcely paying attention to the semantics of what has now become routine.