I have previously noted how much I have always enjoyed the work of Sydney R. Jones (1881-1966) whose fabulous illustrations grace the pages of books like The Manor Houses of England, The Village Homes of England, Old Houses in Holland and How to Draw Houses, which I have previously highlighted on this site. In a similar fashion, I have also collected some of the works by R. J. Brown, whose pen-and-ink drawings of vernacular houses and village buildings add so much to the descriptions found in English Village Architecture, English Farmhouses, and The English Country Cottage.

In this age of photography and wondrous digital effects, the sublime results that can be gained via the illustrator’s trained hand are often forgotten. Yet there are few substitutes for the range of evocative feelings that can be elicited from a fine pencil or pen-and-ink drawing.

Allan T. Adams - Illustrator

Recently I have had the opportunity to marvel at the skill of an architectural illustrator who has found his way onto my Twitter feed—Allan T. Adams. Just as I was thinking that the only source of fine illustrations of ancient English buildings were old books, his work has renewed my enthusiasm for this art form and provided much enjoyment.

Allen T. Adams - Illustrator

Mr. Adams has much experience illustrating historic buildings, as he is retired from Historic England (formerly English Heritage) having worked on a number of projects, such as reconstruction drawings.

Allen T. Adams - Illustrator

He has been illustrating historic buildings since 1981--creating drawn records for archive purposes, and illustrating books and other publications. His widely-recognized skill and experience eventually led to his election as a fellow of the Society of Antiquaries of London in 2008.

Allen T. Adams - Illustrator

I will share just a few examples of his very fine work here; as you can see, he is highly skilled in sharply-detailed pen-and-ink drawings as well as exquisite watercolour illustrations.

Allen T. Adams - Illustrator

Mr. Adams has a member page on the Society of Architectural Illustrators site HERE as well as a Flicker page HERE. 

You will also be well-rewarded by following him on Twitter at @allantadams -- where he regularly shares examples of his illustrative work.

Once again we take a brief moment to talk about one of the books in our collection; I have wanted this for some time, but was only recently able to obtain it on Ebay for a low price. Always a great fan of Country Life, I collected many issues years ago when it was commonly available at the local news stand (I never could bring myself to spring for an annual subscription) and I still keep some of these scattered about in the house. Lacking more recent issues, I was happy to report a successful effort to grab a single copy at Heathrow before we returned home from our recent UK trip.

I finished reading this book right before we left, and though it certainly relates a lively and interesting story of the magazine’s history and significance, it does an excellent job of weaving that history into a vivid panorama of Britain during the last 100 (now 120) years. It’s hard for me to imagine that this book has actually been out for so long; nevertheless, the subject matter is as essential today as it was in 1997. With a fairly substantial production run, it is still easily available from online booksellers such as Amazon and Abebooks.

As one might expect, the photography—which was primarily pulled from the magazine’s archives—is excellent. The vintage black-and-white images are so expressive and so “of their time” that they capture the feeling of their era in a way that modern color photography cannot.

Once surprising aspect of the book, and this is a tribute to Sir Roy Strong, is that it is an easy and comfortable read; though it is large and fairly substantial, the average reader would be able to get through it straightaway. The author pulls no punches in his observations regarding the magazine and its editorial positions; though helpful in preserving the country’s heritage and great estates in its early decades, he describes them as outdated and reactionary in the post war period.

Controversies aside, the book provides a useful record of the magazine’s history and outlines its role as a cultural icon. Outlining a long list of editors and contributors (including Strong himself) and surveying 100 years of social change, editorial policies, preservation issues and matters of taste, this book provides a great insight into a central period of English architectural and social history.

Country Life, 1897-1997  An English Arcadia
Hardcover: 128 pages
ISBN-10: 0752210548
ISBN-13: 978-0752210544
Product Dimensions:  11.8 x 9.2 x 1 inches

These particular reviews, while sharing some observations regarding the content, design and quality of the book, are primarily intended to highlight the personal meaning they have for me and how they have served my interest in English Architecture.

Back some time in the mid-1980’s I acquired a copy of Mark Girouard’s The Victorian Country House. At the time, we were living in a modest stucco-and-shingle English cottage in Goodyear Heights, and I was dreaming of eventually building my own “country house”—though on a much smaller scale than those rambling piles featured in Girouard’s book.

To this day, the book remains one of the central resources in my library, and still informs my basic attitudes regarding design, building history and taste. Beginning with a thoughtful overview of the Victorian country house-building phenomenon, Girouard goes on to highlight about two dozen memorable examples of country houses—describing not only their planning and design, but also providing insights into their owners and architects. The chapters, which are clear, well-researched and highly entertaining, reveal a colorful tapestry of Victorian society: nouveau riche industrialists, landed gentry, eccentrics, aesthete artists, pious politicians and above all—original and talented architects. The main section is followed by a brief gazetteer of better-known houses built during the Victorian period. The book is very well illustrated; one might wish for more color photos, but I have always found black-and-white images to be very evocative and often highly appropriate to the subject of old houses.



As the years passed, I went on to collect most all of Mr. Girouard’s books. Along with this particular work, another book of his, The Return to Camelot: Chivalry and the English Gentleman, provided much inspiration for my first novel, The Steadfast.

The mind conjures up a great many things, and when I eventually did build my own house a few years later, it was easy to sometimes imagine myself some minor Lord, making designs, studying and evaluating plans and somehow—seeking to express my essence in a house. Like life itself, the final product turned out to be full of compromises in size, design and materials. The grand plans I first developed (I was my own architect) eventually shape-shifted from a stately, stucco-covered manor house to a broad, brick-and shingle Tudor Revival house…to finally materialize in a 4-bedroom, Old English “cottage” on a 90’ foot wide lot. Thus do dreams run smack dab into the brambled hedgerow of reality. Nevertheless, I still remain Lord of my modest manor.

For those who are interested in the types of houses featured on this blog, I highly recommend The Victorian Country House as a fine place to start your reading. I feel confident you will find it not only informative, but highly inspiring, as I did.

Long before I built my own house in 1992, I always enjoyed buying home improvement, interior design and related types of magazines. I believe it started with the old Metropolitan Home in the very early 80’s and copies of Architectural Digest (many of which I still have) a few years later. Once we decided to build a new home—of English design—I started buying UK magazines like House & Garden, British Homes & Gardens, Country Living, Period Homes, Homes & Antiques, Country Homes & Interiors, Period Living, and of course, Country Life.

I still have dozens of them stacked quietly in the basement; much to my wife’s chagrin, I seldom throw good magazines away, especially when I paid six to eight dollars apiece for them 15 or 20 years ago. I always thought they would be valuable for reference or inspiration, and after taking some time to relax with a glass of ale and look through a dozen or more copies a few days ago, I take comfort in the fact that I was right to do this.


We all know the print magazine business has suffered greatly over the last 15 years, with the advent of so many home-related websites and other online resources. Most magazines provide at least some content online, and other sites like Houzz—along with innumerable design blogs provide enough content to keep a lot of people happy. But it’s not a perfect world.

While I enjoy visiting Houzz regularly, it is so highly focused on contemporary trends that it’s becoming harder for a traditionalist like myself to find much of value. Primary among these concerns is the total dominance of WHITE (or almost-white) interiors across 80 to 90 percent of the posted images, even on their UK website. Similar websites, like HGTV and even This Old House feature a lot of trendy design looks that don’t always fit my traditional tastes.

But I’ve come to realize that it goes beyond content; for whatever reason, the presentation of online material just doesn’t seem to satisfy me the same way it did in a print magazine. I find the intrusion of unrelated, out-of-context ads bothersome. Stories are broken up into small, distracting, disjointed pieces; photos while plentiful, are often smaller. Online, I feel like I’m having content handed out to me piecemeal, rather than flipping to—and then lingering—on a printed page with a coherent story that I can follow at leisure.

Recently, as I perused a stack of my old magazines, I began to realize what I had missed. Interiors were comfortable, personal, and featured a wide spectrum of colors as well as a lot of natural or stained woodwork—rather than the white painted mouldings and casework that continue to dominate today’s designs. Best of all, I noticed that none of the interiors I was looking at looked old or dated; they seemed natural and inviting—timeless, really—and I was surprised that one could take so many useful design cues from magazines that were 15 to 20 years old. (The one exception, I must admit, was the occasional fetish for flowered cotton chintz that seemed to prevail back in the day; but then, no age is perfect, I suppose.)

Furthermore, in print, each issue stood on its own as something memorable and distinct. Online, web pages may change images from month-to-month, but individual stories and features are simply archived or added to an ever-expanding list of “posts”—which may be searchable and easier to access, but often providing less “meat” than their print counterparts.

Advertising has a role to play in this story as well, but I will cover this is a separate post. It is easy to see the linking and direct response advantage provided by the Internet; yet something is lost. Well-done, well thought-out print advertising can add an element of interest to print magazines—at their best, they have even served as valuable reader content. Unfortunately, developing a top-notch print ad with compelling copy is almost a lost art; today’s ads are all about image, pretty pictures and a website URL. The best days were when ads were not seen as a distraction—when readers enjoyed reviewing the assorted ads and found the advertisers’ individual stories almost as interesting as the editorial content.

Again, this is all just an individual observation—I plan to keep on visiting websites, and maybe returning to my basement magazine stacks a little more often as well.

I may even start to buy magazines again. As soon as I find more space to store them.

Long before I built my own house in 1992, I always enjoyed buying home improvement, interior design and related types of magazines. I believe it started with the old Metropolitan Home in the very early 80’s and copies of Architectural Digest (many of which I still have) a few years later. Once we decided to build a new home—of English design—I started buying UK magazines like House & Garden, British Homes & Gardens, Country Living, Period Homes, Homes & Antiques, Country Homes & Interiors, Period Living, and of course, Country Life.

I still have dozens of them stacked quietly in the basement; much to my wife’s chagrin, I seldom throw good magazines away, especially when I paid six to eight dollars apiece for them 15 or 20 years ago. I always thought they would be valuable for reference or inspiration, and after taking some time to relax with a glass of ale and look through a dozen or more copies a few days ago, I take comfort in the fact that I was right to do this.

We all know the print magazine business has suffered greatly over the last 15 years, with the advent of so many home-related websites and other online resources. Most magazines provide at least some content online, and other sites like Houzz—along with innumerable design blogs provide enough content to keep a lot of people happy. But it’s not a perfect world.

While I enjoy visiting Houzz regularly, it is so highly focused on contemporary trends that it’s becoming harder for a traditionalist like myself to find much of value. Primary among these concerns is the total dominance of WHITE (or almost-white) interiors across 80 to 90 percent of the posted images, even on their UK website. Similar websites, like HGTV and even This Old House feature a lot of trendy design looks that don’t always fit my traditional tastes.

But I’ve come to realize that it goes beyond content; for whatever reason, the presentation of online material just doesn’t seem to satisfy me the same way it did in a print magazine. I find the intrusion of unrelated, out-of-context ads bothersome. Stories are broken up into small, distracting, disjointed pieces; photos while plentiful, are often smaller. Online, I feel like I’m having content handed out to me piecemeal, rather than flipping to—and then lingering—on a printed page with a coherent story that I can follow at leisure.

Recently, as I perused a stack of my old magazines, I began to realize what I had missed. Interiors were comfortable, personal, and featured a wide spectrum of colors as well as a lot of natural or stained woodwork—rather than the white painted mouldings and casework that continue to dominate today’s designs. Best of all, I noticed that none of the interiors I was looking at looked old or dated; they seemed natural and inviting—timeless, really—and I was surprised that one could take so many useful design cues from magazines that were 15 to 20 years old. (The one exception, I must admit, was the occasional fetish for flowered cotton chintz that seemed to prevail back in the day; but then, no age is perfect, I suppose.)

Furthermore, in print, each issue stood on its own as something memorable and distinct. Online, web pages may change images from month-to-month, but individual stories and features are simply archived or added to an ever-expanding list of “posts”—which may be searchable and easier to access, but often providing less “meat” than their print counterparts.

Advertising has a role to play in this story as well, but I will cover this is a separate post. It is easy to see the linking and direct response advantage provided by the Internet; yet something is lost. Well-done, well thought-out print advertising can add an element of interest to print magazines—at their best, they have even served as valuable reader content. Unfortunately, developing a top-notch print ad with compelling copy is almost a lost art; today’s ads are all about image, pretty pictures and a website URL. The best days were when ads were not seen as a distraction—when readers enjoyed reviewing the assorted ads and found the advertisers’ individual stories almost as interesting as the editorial content.

Again, this is all just an individual observation—I plan to keep on visiting websites, and maybe returning to my basement magazine stacks a little more often as well.

I may even start to buy magazines again. As soon as I find more space to store them.

Here is the first of our video book reviews - or as I like to call them: New Reviews of Old Books. As regards my reasoning for this, please refer to this recent post. As you will see, while I have nothing but praise for the book's content, the quality of the printing and publication (not the design) leaves something to be desired.


To make things a little clearer, I am including here a couple of photos of the interior of the book. The overall layout and design is fine, but the printing process used (I assume digital, since I feel this was a short-run book) was perhaps not up to the task, as the photographs do not have the requisite contrast and detail one would prefer. Even the stock paper is a little thin; you may be able to see bleed-through text from the other side of the pages.

Tudor cottage renovation - Shannon Taylor Scarlett, Architect

Those of us who study, restore or would like to live in an Olde English Home may already have some grasp of their essential design elements. This has not stopped us from often wondering why so many modern homes lack the charm, proportions or design quality of the real thing—or even of well-designed revival houses.

For those who are still wondering, or who may be considering a building or remodeling project, I would recommend architect Shannon Taylor Scarlett’s Simple Rules: What the Old Time Builders Knew, a compact volume of observations, quotes and drawings that help put these design issues in perspective. I was fortunate to download the Kindle version some time ago (it is just $4.99) and was happily rewarded when I recently rediscovered it during a few idle moments on my iPhone.

This brief review of design principles—it is just a little over 100 pages—provides a helpful foundation for those who are interested in traditional approaches to design, or who would simply like to unlock the mystery of “why so many older buildings look better.” Scarlett’s book makes it clear that it’s not just a matter of appropriating a classical door surround, throwing some half-timbers onto an exterior wall, or tarting up a builder tract house with some Victorian trim work.

The book is highly recommended as a handy reference and a helpful guide to understanding some of the basic elements of “curb appeal.” It’s also available in print from Barnes & Noble.

Tudor cottage renovation - Shannon Taylor Scarlett, Architect

Those of us who study, restore or would like to live in an Olde English Home may already have some grasp of their essential design elements. This has not stopped us from often wondering why so many modern homes lack the charm, proportions or design quality of the real thing—or even of well-designed revival houses.

For those who are still wondering, or who may be considering a building or remodeling project, I would recommend architect Shannon Taylor Scarlett’s Simple Rules: What the Old Time Builders Knew, a compact volume of observations, quotes and drawings that help put these design issues in perspective. I was fortunate to download the Kindle version some time ago (it is just $4.99) and was happily rewarded when I recently rediscovered it during a few idle moments on my iPhone.

This brief review of design principles—it is just a little over 100 pages—provides a helpful foundation for those who are interested in traditional approaches to design, or who would simply like to unlock the mystery of “why so many older buildings look better.” Scarlett’s book makes it clear that it’s not just a matter of appropriating a classical door surround, throwing some half-timbers onto an exterior wall, or tarting up a builder tract house with some Victorian trim work.

The book is highly recommended as a handy reference and a helpful guide to understanding some of the basic elements of “curb appeal.” It’s also available in print from Barnes & Noble.

Why would you want to review a book that’s been out of print for thirty years? Or fifty? Or eighty, for that matter?

Well, if I was reviewing fiction or computer programming, I agree, it would make no sense at all. The former is a slave to contemporary taste and fashion, which changes almost daily; the latter is subject to the inevitable march of technology—making today’s technical information soon obsolete.

For those of us who are interested in architecture—and specifically—old houses, there is an entirely different set of issues to consider when reading, collecting and referring to older books:

First, old houses are still old. Where they exist, they generally do so undisturbed over the course of many years, and that is the way people like it. For example, observations made about an old house like Little Moreton Hall in Cheshire in 1920 are generally valid unto this day. While new analyses continue to be made and today’s technology may reveal some new understanding, the scholars of the past continue to provide keen insights on the character, history and appreciation of old houses.

Likewise, many of the photographic and illustrative examples provided in old books offer an unsurpassed visual record of many old houses, some of which no longer exist. Whether it is the beautiful black & white photographs we see in old Country Life books, or the seductive drawings of Sidney R. Jones, there is a unique character and perspective in these old illustrations that even the sharpest digital image cannot provide. In the very oldest examples, they may offer details that cannot even be seen today.

Other old books on architecture, through their sheer depth of observation, provide an in-depth illustrative record of measured construction details like doors, chimneys, windows, mouldings and their profiles, stonework, ironwork and more. Few modern books provide these richly detailed and carefully recorded illustrations—which can be so helpful to both the student and the practicing residential architect who may turn to them for inspiration.

Another consideration on the value of old architecture books for the modern user is their essential value as books, and in many cases, great examples of what I refer to as The Book Arts. As an example, I often point to is the two-volume study from Thomas Garner and Arthur Stratton, entitled The Domestic Architecture of England During the Tudor Period. I own a second edition set from 1929; they are huge books—measuring 12” x 16”—wonderful to hold in one’s lap and beautifully illustrated with both photographs and exquisite drawings. A much more recent example of this type might be Mark Girouard’s beautiful Elizabethan Architecture, published by Yale in 2009. It is another substantial, finely illustrated book which does great justice to its subject.

To the casual observer, it may seem strange to provide a review of a book that is no longer in print, and which may not even be easily obtainable. But in doing so, we would point out that:

a) Many books, being highlighted as “essentials” on the subject of our chosen historical period of architecture, are well-recommended for their enduring high value, technical competence and even inspirational content.

b) While no longer in print, most of these books may still be obtained without undue effort from used bookstores, online sources such as abebooks.com, or even Ebay—often at a reasonable price.

c) Some books that have been recently scanned and made available through Print-on-Demand, while helpful and more easily purchased, are actually poor facsimiles of the original version. In some cases, the scanned illustrations are of extremely bad quality, in the worst cases, almost useless as a reference. While the text has value, to be sure, the student would be better satisfied in finding an original edition, which may often be found at a price that is little more than the reprint.

So, seeing some value in offering these types of reviews, we will begin to provide them, since we have no shortage of books on our chosen subject that we would like to share.

Seeing the newer phenomenon of video book reviews making an impact, and noting the advantages of physically describing and talking about a book that I am holding in my hand, this may be the method employed as we move forward.

Our dedication to old books being noted, we would nevertheless invite publishers of new books on period architecture to make review copies available, should they so desire. This would include  - Architecture (particularly residential) from Medieval through the Early Renaissance (Jacobean) – and Revival Styles (Gothic, Medieval, Tudor, Elizabethan, Jacobean) from the early 18th Century through the Victorian and Edwardian eras, and up to 1930.

Why would you want to review a book that’s been out of print for thirty years? Or fifty? Or eighty, for that matter?

Well, if I was reviewing fiction or computer programming, I agree, it would make no sense at all. The former is a slave to contemporary taste and fashion, which changes almost daily; the latter is subject to the inevitable march of technology—making today’s technical information soon obsolete.

For those of us who are interested in architecture—and specifically—old houses, there is an entirely different set of issues to consider when reading, collecting and referring to older books:

First, old houses are still old. Where they exist, they generally do so undisturbed over the course of many years, and that is the way people like it. For example, observations made about an old house like Little Moreton Hall in Cheshire in 1920 are generally valid unto this day. While new analyses continue to be made and today’s technology may reveal some new understanding, the scholars of the past continue to provide keen insights on the character, history and appreciation of old houses.

Likewise, many of the photographic and illustrative examples provided in old books offer an unsurpassed visual record of many old houses, some of which no longer exist. Whether it is the beautiful black & white photographs we see in old Country Life books, or the seductive drawings of Sidney R. Jones, there is a unique character and perspective in these old illustrations that even the sharpest digital image cannot provide. In the very oldest examples, they may offer details that cannot even be seen today.

Other old books on architecture, through their sheer depth of observation, provide an in-depth illustrative record of measured construction details like doors, chimneys, windows, mouldings and their profiles, stonework, ironwork and more. Few modern books provide these richly detailed and carefully recorded illustrations—which can be so helpful to both the student and the practicing residential architect who may turn to them for inspiration.

Another consideration on the value of old architecture books for the modern user is their essential value as books, and in many cases, great examples of what I refer to as The Book Arts. As an example, I often point to is the two-volume study from Thomas Garner and Arthur Stratton, entitled The Domestic Architecture of England During the Tudor Period. I own a second edition set from 1929; they are huge books—measuring 12” x 16”—wonderful to hold in one’s lap and beautifully illustrated with both photographs and exquisite drawings. A much more recent example of this type might be Mark Girouard’s beautiful Elizabethan Architecture, published by Yale in 2009. It is another substantial, finely illustrated book which does great justice to its subject.

To the casual observer, it may seem strange to provide a review of a book that is no longer in print, and which may not even be easily obtainable. But in doing so, we would point out that:

a) Many books, being highlighted as “essentials” on the subject of our chosen historical period of architecture, are well-recommended for their enduring high value, technical competence and even inspirational content.

b) While no longer in print, most of these books may still be obtained without undue effort from used bookstores, online sources such as abebooks.com, or even Ebay—often at a reasonable price.

c) Some books that have been recently scanned and made available through Print-on-Demand, while helpful and more easily purchased, are actually poor facsimiles of the original version. In some cases, the scanned illustrations are of extremely bad quality, in the worst cases, almost useless as a reference. While the text has value, to be sure, the student would be better satisfied in finding an original edition, which may often be found at a price that is little more than the reprint.

So, seeing some value in offering these types of reviews, we will begin to provide them, since we have no shortage of books on our chosen subject that we would like to share.

Seeing the newer phenomenon of video book reviews making an impact, and noting the advantages of physically describing and talking about a book that I am holding in my hand, this may be the method employed as we move forward.

Our dedication to old books being noted, we would nevertheless invite publishers of new books on period architecture to make review copies available, should they so desire. This would include  - Architecture (particularly residential) from Medieval through the Early Renaissance (Jacobean) – and Revival Styles (Gothic, Medieval, Tudor, Elizabethan, Jacobean) from the early 18th Century through the Victorian and Edwardian eras, and up to 1930.

One of the better known American architects  of the early 20th century is Howard Van Doren Shaw, best known for English-inspired houses like Ragdale, or The House of The Four Winds, in Lake Forest, IL. Many of his houses are reminiscent of works by Voysey or Baillie Scott, though some examples – like a large Tudor-inspired home here in Akron on Merriman Rd.—are just slightly more traditional in their approach.

Chicago Magazine has a great article by Whet Moser on  Van Doren Shaw’s legacy, from his approach to residential architecture to his commercial work, like Market Square, in Lake Forest:

“Market Square was built as what we now refer to as mixed-use, transit-oriented development, with stores on the first floor and apartments on the second, across a narrow street from what’s now the Lake Forest stop on the Union Pacific North Metra line.”

Strangely enough, Market Square feels like some of today’s newer, “walkable” retail developments (Think of Easton Town Center in Columbus or Legacy Village, near Cleveland) – the scale, mixed bag of architectural styles, and overall approach are strikingly similar.

The article goes on to highlight a new book, Inventing the New American House: Howard Van Doren Shaw, Architect, by architect Stuart Cohen, who  makes the case for Shaw as an innovator, drawing out that argument from Shaw’s reticent buildings. Take a look at the article, and check out the book, if you can.

One of the better known American architects  of the early 20th century is Howard Van Doren Shaw, best known for English-inspired houses like Ragdale, or The House of The Four Winds, in Lake Forest, IL. Many of his houses are reminiscent of works by Voysey or Baillie Scott, though some examples – like a large Tudor-inspired home here in Akron on Merriman Rd.—are just slightly more traditional in their approach.

Chicago Magazine has a great article by Whet Moser on  Van Doren Shaw’s legacy, from his approach to residential architecture to his commercial work, like Market Square, in Lake Forest:

“Market Square was built as what we now refer to as mixed-use, transit-oriented development, with stores on the first floor and apartments on the second, across a narrow street from what’s now the Lake Forest stop on the Union Pacific North Metra line.”

Strangely enough, Market Square feels like some of today’s newer, “walkable” retail developments (Think of Easton Town Center in Columbus or Legacy Village, near Cleveland) – the scale, mixed bag of architectural styles, and overall approach are strikingly similar.

The article goes on to highlight a new book, Inventing the New American House: Howard Van Doren Shaw, Architect, by architect Stuart Cohen, who  makes the case for Shaw as an innovator, drawing out that argument from Shaw’s reticent buildings. Take a look at the article, and check out the book, if you can.

Along with history and design, one of our favorite pastimes is reading and designing books and publications, and through our publishing arm, American Biblioverken, we've set out to offer some quality paperback editions of important works from the past.The first two, Hopes and Fears for Art and The Art and Craft of Printing, are two of Morris' works that we have produced; both are primarily comprised of material and lectures from the late 19th century.

While they certainly can't match the beauty of a Kelmscott Press product, we feel they provide a far superior product than many of the commonly-available reprints available today, which often deliver a poorly-scanned copy of an old book and an ugly, generic cover that doesn't even relate to the material in the book. The interiors have been designed and typeset in fonts that enhance the material, and best of all, perhaps--the price is lower than most other new editions currently available.

These 6" x 9" editions make a great addition to anyone's bookshelf, and the low price make them great for casual reading on a trip, handy reference, or for students and classrooms.

We have several other older classics that we are preparing to add to our TLG Design Library, and we'll be sure to keep you updated as we bring them along. The books are available at Amazon and across Amazon Europe, including Amazon.uk

HOPES AND FEARS FOR ART /   on Amazon   $9.50           on Amazon UK  £7.00

ISBN-13: 978-1492919186 
ISBN-10: 1492919187

THE ART AND CRAFT OF PRINTING /  on Amazon $7.60        on Amazon UK  £5.00
ISBN-13: 978-1493538973
ISBN-10: 1493538977

Along with history and design, one of our favorite pastimes is reading and designing books and publications, and through our publishing arm, American Biblioverken, we've set out to offer some quality paperback editions of important works from the past.The first two, Hopes and Fears for Art and The Art and Craft of Printing, are two of Morris' works that we have produced; both are primarily comprised of material and lectures from the late 19th century.

While they certainly can't match the beauty of a Kelmscott Press product, we feel they provide a far superior product than many of the commonly-available reprints available today, which often deliver a poorly-scanned copy of an old book and an ugly, generic cover that doesn't even relate to the material in the book. The interiors have been designed and typeset in fonts that enhance the material, and best of all, perhaps--the price is lower than most other new editions currently available.

These 6" x 9" editions make a great addition to anyone's bookshelf, and the low price make them great for casual reading on a trip, handy reference, or for students and classrooms.

We have several other older classics that we are preparing to add to our TLG Design Library, and we'll be sure to keep you updated as we bring them along. The books are available at Amazon and across Amazon Europe, including Amazon.uk

HOPES AND FEARS FOR ART /   on Amazon   $9.50           on Amazon UK  £7.00
ISBN-13: 978-1492919186 
ISBN-10: 1492919187

THE ART AND CRAFT OF PRINTING /  on Amazon $7.60        on Amazon UK  £5.00
ISBN-13: 978-1493538973
ISBN-10: 1493538977

There's no doubt about it – I love old books, especially books on architecture. Unfortunately, many of the best examples are fairly rare, and when available are often obtainable only at a very high price.
 
One book I've had my eye on for some time is Alan Jackson's The Half-Timber House: Its Origin, Design, Modern Plan, and Construction – which was originally published in several editions, from about 1912 through 1929. What makes the book particularly interesting for me is that the author is American, and he studies the characteristics of Tudor-revival homes from an early 20th century viewpoint--analyzing the style's appropriateness for [his] time and offering both good and bad examples of how it might be adapted for American homes.

As far as the text is concerned, it may be slightly “wordy” for the average reader; the language is perhaps too flowery and expressive for today's tastes, and might have benefited from a firm editing. Nevertheless, it makes for an interesting read, especially since the period when it was written was a time when Tudor-revival was one of the most popular of American residential styles.
                                       


THE WAY THE ILLUSTRATION APPEARS IN THIS EDITION.

Behind Jackson's clear admiration for the warmth and comfort offered by the “Old English” style, you can sense the popular notions and attitudes that caused so many of these homes to be built across the United States from 1900 to about 1935. Interestingly, a bit of waspishness sneaks in as he discusses other “sub-types” of half-timbered architecture, specifically examples found in France (Norman) and Germany, both of which he subtly dismisses as seeming “foreign” to most Americans.

While I have come close to purchasing some original editions of this book on Ebay, they are uncommon and usually demand a stiff price. Happily, the recent proliferation of publishers who are now offering facsimile copies of the book via page-scanning of the originals (now in the public domain) has made it easy to add a copy to my architecture library.     But in that realization there remains a critical caveat.

Quality Matters

One of the reason I love old books is that I find them attractive, and in the best examples, quite beautiful. While I have not seen an original copy of The Half-Timber House, it looks like it was produced with some level of care and attentiveness to design—all of which suffered greatly in the repro copy I purchased from Forgotten Books via Amazon.

Be aware that there are several publishers offering this book, and the prices vary from $7.56 for a paperback version (my sample) to almost $30.00 for a hardcover reprint.  The quality of the final product will depend on how the scanning equipment was set up and what type of sample was used—the Forgotten Books edition looks like it was scanned not from an original, but from a poor xerox copy. While the text was of acceptable quality, most of the illustrations were useless—not looking like halftone photos at all (as in the original) but more like super-high-contrast black and white drawings, offering little detail and large areas where the image dropped out completely. I suppose one issue might be that the contrast setting on the scanner was set extra high to make the text clearer (and ruin the halftone images in the process) but the illustrations are so poor that I find it impossible to believe that an original copy of the book was used.
Perhaps a better solution would be to purchase the book on CD; I have seen some examples available on Ebay as well, where the book has been scanned into PDF and the images look fairly decent. In any case, I would recommend to any buyer that if page samples of these reproduction copies are available to view, they take a careful look to see that the quality is acceptable.

 As I have discussed previously in the "About" section of the site, my study and interest in ancient English building styles and revival-style architecture left me rather empty after the completion of my home in the 1990's. While the work has continued on there over the years  (and it still does) I had sought to use the knowledge I had gained in some useful manner, and The Steadfast was the result.

While the book is also currently available through Creatspace in a print version, I just finished converting it to a PDF ebook version that is available from Lulu at $4.99.  To check out a few sample chapters, head over to http://thesteadfastnovel.blogspot.com .

We are providing some copies of the ebook version for free to the first six of our friends who make the request via Twitter - just DM @thelonggallery to let us know - and please be sure to give us a review when you are finished!

 As I have discussed previously in the "About" section of the site, my study and interest in ancient English building styles and revival-style architecture left me rather empty after the completion of my home in the 1990's. While the work has continued on there over the years  (and it still does) I had sought to use the knowledge I had gained in some useful manner, and The Steadfast was the result.

While the book is also currently available through Creatspace in a print version, I just finished converting it to a PDF ebook version that is available from Lulu at $3.77.  To check out a few sample chapters, head over to http://thesteadfastnovel.blogspot.com .

We are providing some copies of the ebook version for free to the first six of our friends who make the request via Twitter - just DM @thelonggallery to let us know - and please be sure to give us a review when you are finished!

Millions of people watch Downton Abbey on Television, or visit the stately homes that have managed to avoid demolition, through some combination of good luck, intelligent management or adoption by a group such as The National Trust. Unfortunately, many thousands of houses did not survive. Many were lost to urban development, fire, or simple neglect; years ago, people were less included to worry about conservation, and it turned out that a great homes which had been passed down through centuries could be lost within a generation.


Many of these homes became simply unaffordable as the owners' incomes fell, or due to inheritance tax demands. In the case of Beaudesert (pictured above) the "Dancing 5th Marquess of Anglesey" simply gambled his fortune away, leaving his estate to ruin and eventual sale after his death in Monte Carlo in 1904. While some of the neglectful practices and development schemes common to the 20th century are no longer accepted, many great houses are still at risk.


The Mail's Catherine Ostler presented a fine article on this subject, featuring a number of grand houses that have been lost to the ages. As the article states:

"Death, debt, urban sprawl: there are many reasons why England has lost so many of its Downton Abbeys. A third of Britain’s historic estates, with their elegant country houses, deer parks, farms and churches with family crypts, have been demolished, diminished or turned into flats — 1,000 since World War II. The lucky ones got taken over by the National Trust. The unlucky ones had the contents ripped out and sold off and were then flattened by developers."

The article highlights Historian John Martin Robinson’s new book, Felling The Ancient Oaks,  How England Lost Its Great Country Estates (Aurum, £30), which examines the fate of 21 of these extinct estates, illustrated by poignant photographs of a lost world.

You can read the article HERE.

Buy the Book HERE.

Millions of people watch Downton Abbey on Television, or visit the stately homes that have managed to avoid demolition, through some combination of good luck, intelligent management or adoption by a group such as The National Trust. Unfortunately, many thousands of houses did not survive. Many were lost to urban development, fire, or simple neglect; years ago, people were less included to worry about conservation, and it turned out that a great homes which had been passed down through centuries could be lost within a generation.



Many of these homes became simply unaffordable as the owners' incomes fell, or due to inheritance tax demands. In the case of Beaudesert (pictured above) the "Dancing 5th Marquess of Anglesey" simply gambled his fortune away, leaving his estate to ruin and eventual sale after his death in Monte Carlo in 1904. While some of the neglectful practices and development schemes common to the 20th century are no longer accepted, many great houses are still at risk.


The Mail's Catherine Ostler presented a fine article on this subject, featuring a number of grand houses that have been lost to the ages. As the article states:

"Death, debt, urban sprawl: there are many reasons why England has lost so many of its Downton Abbeys. A third of Britain’s historic estates, with their elegant country houses, deer parks, farms and churches with family crypts, have been demolished, diminished or turned into flats — 1,000 since World War II. The lucky ones got taken over by the National Trust. The unlucky ones had the contents ripped out and sold off and were then flattened by developers."

The article highlights Historian John Martin Robinson’s new book, Felling The Ancient Oaks,  How England Lost Its Great Country Estates (Aurum, £30), which examines the fate of 21 of these extinct estates, illustrated by poignant photographs of a lost world.

You can read the article HERE.

Buy the Book HERE.