The reception of classical architecture has become an increasingly relevant and fraught topic. Scholars have sought to understand and critique why countless architects, patrons, and politicians—across the globe—have utilized classical forms from late antiquity to the present day. Therefore, a study that examines the impact of Classicism and the development of three major capital cities in the nineteenth century is timely. Composed of an introduction, four chapters, and an epilogue, Richard Alston’s book discusses how Classicism impacted the urban development of London (1800–1820), Athens (1830–1846), Rome (1870–1911), and Fascist Rome (1922–1943). The introduction first makes the book’s central claim that Classicism was critical to the conceptualization and urban development of these nineteenth-century capital cities, which also asserted their modernity through the adoption of classical forms. Alston is primarily interested in how Classicism influenced the socio-economic and political forces that shaped these three cities, rather than in the actual physical architectural forms that resulted. That said, the introduction concludes with a brief overview of the reception of classical architecture in Europe from 1415 to 1800. However, this summary does not integrate much of the recent scholarship on the topic.
Chapter One examines how Classicism shaped London’s development from 1800 to 1820. The chapter outlines the architectural theories that were influential at the start of the nineteenth century in London. Specifically, Alston considers the ideas and work of John Soane and John Nash. The chapter then focuses on Nash’s development of Regent’s Park and the major arteries between the eastern and western parts of London. This is an excellent overview of a major evolution in London’s form. Classical architecture was used for villas in Regent’s Park, which evoked the idea of rus in urbe, and it was also essential to the creation of new streets (which excluded the existing working-class populations from parts of the city). Alston then discusses monumentality, the extension of public space, and how Classicism shaped public space. This section considers a small selection of buildings and monuments. His analysis focuses on Decius Burton’s (1828) entrance to Hyde Park, noting that it was composed of “Classical gateways,” an Ionic colonnade (48), and a partial replica of the Parthenon frieze (positioned over the central arch). This combination of Roman architectural forms with Greek art is not analyzed; it is described as reflecting “bourgeois sociability [rather] than imperial ambitions” (48). Alston focuses on John Soane’s unbuilt “imperialistic” design for the entry to Hyde Park (49), rather than analyzing Marble Arch, the triumphal (if not imperial) Wellington Arch, and these arches’ architecture and position in the cityscape. Furthermore, Trafalgar Square, which became an integral part of Nash’s street development, is only mentioned in passing (43), and Nelson’s Column, though erected after 1820, is not included. A more detailed examination of the existing classicizing monuments would have enhanced the discussion of the importance of Classicism to London’s urban development. Finally, the dramatic changes in the British economy and the resulting social anxieties experienced among the population of London are considered. These changes led to the creation of new social institutions, such as universities, museums, and clubs, many of which used classical architecture, to create public spaces for the expanding bourgeoisie and to mitigate social anxiety.
Chapter Two focuses on Athens (1830–1846) and is composed of two overarching sections. First, the chapter outlines the history and political situation of Greece in the 1820s, when it became an independent nation and Otto of Bavaria was appointed king. Second, it examines the urban redevelopment of Athens, framing it as a part of a colonial endeavor. The first section provides a good overview of the political situation. Alston discusses how Romanticism, Classicism, and the Enlightenment all shaped Greek nationalism; the kapitani (military leaders of the Revolution) and Orthodox Christianity are also acknowledged as important in forging a new Greek national identity. Alston sometimes assumes that his reader knows all the players and terms (e.g., kapitani), and a few more glosses of key terms and framing would help a reader who is not familiar with the history of modern Greece. The second section focuses on Athens’ redevelopment and the key players: architects Eduard Schaubert, Stamatios Kleanthis, and Leo von Klenze. The clearing and development of the Acropolis are discussed, as is the creation of the royal palace for Otto and of other aristocratic residences. The emphasis laid on the classical past by the new king and as architects—at the expense of the Orthodox faith and post-classical accretions—separated the people from their past. With the development of the bourgeoisie in Athens (following a population boom in the 1830s), Greeks began to reclaim their ancient heritage from their Bavarian king and his colonial regime. The classical past became core to Greek nationalism.
Chapter Three examines the development of Rome (1870–1911) as the capital of the newly unified Italy. Specifically, Alston argues that the new Rome (La Terza Roma) was “bourgeois and modernizing” (123) and did not initially use classical architecture, preferring the existing forms of nineteenth-century Italy despite its intellectual dependence on the idea of ancient Rome. First, the new modern city had to be differentiated from the sepulchral Rome of the Popes. This new Rome needed new infrastructure (such as bridges), banks, courts, and the other institutions essential to a modern, bourgeois city. Eventually, some new buildings were built in a classical style—underscoring how the “values of the state” and citizenship “directly descended from Roman models” (149). The chapter ends with a discussion of the Vittorio Emanuele II monument, designed by Giuseppe Sacconi and Eugenio Maccagnani. Its construction required the appropriation of land, the demolition of existing structures, and the displacement of working-class Romans. Alston characterizes the monument as an expression of “authoritarian, imperial ultranationalism” (155) that exploited Rome’s ancient past and foreshadowed Mussolini’s interventions in the city.
Chapter Four focuses on Fascist Rome (1922–1943) and how, under Mussolini, the city became a “theatrical and performative space” intended to create new citizens who would support Fascism’s new Roman Empire (158). The chapter first surveys conceptions of history and time under Fascism and then argues that “an agreed Fascist style of architecture” never emerged (158), as it used modern and classical forms and sometimes a fusion of both. The chapter then outlines a shift “from ‘organic’ or communitarian views of urbanism to a focus on scenography and symbol” in Rome (158). Alston discusses the conflation of the imperial past and the Fascist present and how this collapse of time was exploited in the mostras, the propagandistic exhibitions, that celebrated the Fascist Revolution and the birth of Augustus, and in the concept of Romanità (or Romanness). Alston provides an overview of architectural modernism in Italy, its use at World’s Fairs, and its reflection of the regime’s values. The section “New Romes” (172–80) is a concise survey of some important Fascist buildings and developments in Rome, including the Foro Mussolini, the EUR district, and the Palazzo della Cività Italiana. While this summary is useful, it does not add anything significantly new to the recent scholarly discussions of Mussolini’s Rome.[1]
The book offers a useful and interesting perspective on the influence of classical ideas and architecture in important nineteenth-century European cities. Adding a chapter on Paris would have enriched the discussion. Indeed, Alston already comments on many French architects and their ideas. Given the many significant classicizing buildings and monuments erected in Paris during the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Paris might have provided a more interesting foil to London as another imperial capital.
The brief epilogue touches on the connection between classical forms and authoritarianism and the need to acknowledge this appropriation of the classical past when dealing with classicizing architecture, especially after the rise and fall of Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. Marcello’s 2024 book about the use of Fascist architecture in Rome after World War II is an excellent study of how communities have dealt with problematic architecture, though it is too recent for Alston to have engaged with it.[2]
While the book has much to offer, there are two problematic aspects of the author’s approach. In the introduction, Alston announces that he “writes as a social and intellectual historian rather than as an architect or an architectural critic” and that he is not particularly interested in “the minute differentiation of neoclassical styles” (3) because he is more concerned with the political ideologies underlying these choices. Alston’s decision reflects a missed opportunity for a more thorough analysis. As recent scholarship on the reception of classical architecture has demonstrated, the distinction between classical forms (e.g., Greek versus Roman) is often critical to their meaning.[3] His decision not to consider differences in classical architectural styles is evident in his use of the terms “the Classical” and “Classicism,” which he never defines and which function as stable concepts throughout the book. The scholarship of Shane Butler, Brooke Holmes, and the Postclassicisms Collective has demonstrated that classical antiquity is anything but stable; it is fluid and flexible.[4] By not engaging with many of the rich theoretical discussions that frame classical reception studies, Alston has missed an opportunity to deepen his analysis and connect it to larger debates in the field.
Despite these flaws, the study of the three cities and their relationship to classical antiquity is useful, and scholars working on the reception of classical ideas in Europe and on European urbanism will find it informative. Nationalism and the ancient past are often entangled. For scholars of classical architecture and its reception, the book will at times be frustrating, as they will inevitably want more analysis of the buildings and the built environment. That said, because classical reception studies, including of classical architecture, have already taken a global turn,[5] future scholars could place Alston’s arguments in a global context. Building on his analysis, one could examine how classical ideas shape urbanism in other parts of the world, especially in regions colonized by European powers.
On the production side, the book would have benefited from higher-quality images, as the small images are hard to see. More detailed maps of London and Athens, with labels for key buildings and streets, would have augmented the author’s arguments about the development of each city. Despite these criticisms, the book provides useful overviews of key moments in the urban development of London, Athens, and Rome, and demonstrates how classical ideas and forms were critical to the transformation of these cities at a critical moment in history.
Notes
[1] See Joshua Arthurs, Excavating Modernity: The Roman Past in Fascist Italy (Cornell University Press, 2012); Aristotle Kallis, The Third Rome 1922–1943: The Making of the Fascist Capital (Palgrave Macmillan, 2014); Flavia Marcello, “Mussolini and the Idealisation of Empire: The Augustan Exhibition of Romanità,” Modern Italy 16, no. 3 (2011): 223–47; Flavia Marcello, “Forma Urbis Mussolinii: Vision and Rhetoric in the Designs for Fascist Rome,” in Brill’s Companion to the Classics, Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, ed. Helen Roche and Kyriakos N. Demetriou (Brill, 2017), 370–403.
[2] Flavia Marcello, After the Fall: The Legacy of Fascism in Rome’s Architectural and Urban History (Bloomsbury Visual Arts, 2024).
[3] Katharine von Stackelberg and Elizabeth Macaulay-Lewis, “Architectural Reception and the Neo-Antique,” in Housing the New Romans: Architectural Reception and Classical Style in the Modern World, ed. Katharine von Stackelberg and Elizabeth Macaulay-Lewis (Oxford University Press, 2017), 1–23.
[4] Shane Butler, “Introduction: On Origins of ‘Deep Classics,’” in Deep Classics: Rethinking Classical Reception, ed. Shane Butler (Bloomsbury Academic, 2016), 1–20; Brooke Holmes, “Cosmopoiesis in the Field of ‘The Classical,’” in Deep Classics: Rethinking Classical Reception, ed. Shane Butler (Bloomsbury Academic, 2016), 269–90; The Postclassicisms Collective, Postclassicisms (University of Chicago Press, 2020).
[5] On global reception studies, see Anastasia Bakogianni and Luis Unceta Gómez, eds., Classical Reception: New Challenges in a Changing World. Trends in Classics – Pathways of Reception (De Gruyter, 2024), 9.