The
Orders of Scaffolding
29 May 1998
Scaffolding
is one of the earliest building materials known to Man
and one of the most consistently popular across the eons, as prevalent
in Baroque church construction as in ancient Greek temples.
As with
most building techniques, scaffolding is divided by the academics into
three classical orders: Doric (plain), Ionic (with green netting) and
Corinthian (with green netting and shiny brass fittings).
Some
of the greatest scaffolding craftsmen of the past were so skilled that
there seems to be no visible means of access to their scaffolded structures.
Even decades of concerted effort by seasoned tourists have been unable
to find a chink in the scaffold armor of Europe's greatest buildings.
In fact,
the only individuals who can readily pierce the magical Green Netting
are the mysterious, squat, paint-bespattered men known only as the Keepers
of the Scaffold. These inscrutable and sprightly men inexplicably
all named Mario are active only in the wee hours surrounding the
dawn. Their sacred charge is to clamber out to opposite corners of the
scaffolding network and then call out to each other loudly and in a sing-song
manner by name (O-Mario!), thereby strengthening the mystical "chiuso
per restauro" aura of the building.
Then
there is the interior scaffolding, a cousin to the exterior scaffold,
but more properly considered an extension of fresco rather than architecture.
Interior scaffolding comes in the following sizes: (1) Filling up nave,
(2) Filling up apse, or (3) Filling up whole damn church. It is of a rather
more recent vintage; more of a Renaissance adaptation of this ancient
and venerable building material.
When
used interiorly, the scaffold's primary purpose would seem to be to engage
the historical interest of the tourist. The concept, you see, is to give
you an idea of what the Sistine Chapel looked like while Michelangelo
was actually painting it, which I'm we all can agree is infinitely more
interesting than actually getting to look at the finished work itself.
But
for now, I must turn my thoughts away from scaffolding, Marios, and Italy's
quirky Office of the Superintendent for Ancient and Artistic Sites (Motto:
Closed for Restoration). I must instead think on sleep, and so do I close
this missive. I do hope it finds you hale, happy, and above all, scaffold-free.
Copyright
© 1998 by Reid Bramblett. All rights reserved. |