History
Stirling and Gowan
James Gowan and James Stirling in front of their Engineering Building at Leicester University for Which they've won the Reynolds Memorial Award For Architecture 1965. © Douglas Hess
The Beginnings
James Stirling began his course in architecture at Liverpool University in September 1946. He was recovering from wounds sustained in the D-Day landings, convalescing at Harewood House in Yorkshire, when he decided to become an architect. Stirling has described the atmosphere at the Liverpool University when he was there: “The School of Architecture was in a tremendous ferment as the revolution of modern architecture had just hit it, secondhand and rather late. There was furious debate as to the validity of the modern movement, tempers were heated and discussion was intense. Some staff resigned and a few students went off to other schools; at any rate I was left with a deep conviction of the moral rightness of the new architecture.”
As a student, Stirling was exposed to an eclectic mix of sources, historical and modern, and as he later recalled: ‘...one had to be good in many styles. ‘We oscillated backwards and forwards between the antique and the just arrived modern movement’.
He was most influenced by Le Corbusier’s Towards a New Architecture and Saxi and Wittkower’s British Art & the Mediterranean. This lavishly illustrated book traces the classical derivation of much English art and Architecture, and the Mediterranean influence is traced back long before the Roman invasion, showing sculpture, art and architecture that have permeated the English culture for over 2,000 years. The book argues for a deep empathy between England and the Mediterranean region, an empathy felt by Stirling at a visceral level. His love of Italy extended throughout his life, nourished by his enjoyment of its artists, architects and towns and cities.
Two books, one revering an English tradition, the other a poetic and impassioned plea for an architecture that would capture the spirit of the twentieth century, providing the greatest influence on the young James Stirling.
The same things made us laugh, We had the same irreverent attitude toward the establishment.
James Gowan and James Stirling, Tatler Magazine 1962 © Sandra Lousada
James Gowan was born in Glasgow on 18th October 1923. He began his architectural training at Mackintosh’s Glasgow School of Art (1940-42) where there was a focus on technology. Instead of the powerful influence of Colin Rowe that pushed Stirling towards a primarily classical view of history, Gowan had been encouraged at Glasgow to appreciate the Gothic style.
Gowan recalls how these experiences ‘inflected on one’s intelligence He warmed to Gothic, preferring its looser articulation as opposed to the more rigid, rule-based approach of the classicists. The flexibility of Gothic appealed because it was more functional, more adaptable, you can add to it’. He describes his design approach as ‘a medieval way of doing things’.
During the Second World War Gowan served as a radar instructor (1942-46). After moving to London in 1946, he completed his architectural education at the Kingston School of Architecture, then directed by Erie Brown.
Although Brown’s school was considered a good place to learn constructional technology, Gowan felt that this was better taught at Glasgow.
Some years later, having established his reputation with the Ham Common Flats, Gowan returned to the Kingston school to give a talk on the flats, He was welcomed by Brown who said ‘Nice to see you again, quite a lot of us don’t like these buildings!
The making of the partnership
Gowan joined Lyons, Israel and Ellis in 1952, a London practice established by Lyons and Israel in the 1930s. ‘The office was very demanding, and pushed you to your limit’. Lyons and Israel did not talk about architecture. Indeed there was a rule of silence in the office, heads down and at the end of the day everyone was black with pencil dust’. Stirling had moved to London in the autumn of 1950, beginning the diploma course in the School of Town Planning and Regional Research in Gordon Square. Unhappy with the content of the course he left and worked for five weeks in the Planning Department of London County Council. He worked briefly for James Cubitt Scott and Partners - Gowan recalls that Cubitt told him that Stirling got a job in his office but was sacked within a week because he couldn’t design.” He took up an appointment with Gollins, Melville and Ward, a practice much published in the post-war period. During his time with them he worked evenings and weekends on his entry for the competition design for the University of Sheffield. Gollins, Melville and Ward were also involved in (and won) the competition, and when it was discovered that Stirling was also working on Sheffield, Gollins asked him to leave.
An early picture of Gowan from the article ‘From the desk of James Gowan’ © Building Design 2008
In 1953 Stirling joined Lyons, Israel and Ellis. Stirling enjoyed his time with the firm but when he arrived, according to Gowan, he was ‘woefully weak in constructional technology’. Stirling ‘always needed someone to help him in whatever way was necessary at any particular time’.
With their Scottish origins and shared interests in castles, warehouses, vernacular and industrial architecture, Stirling and Gowan became friends, but their workplace was less than ideal for the long term. There was friction between Lyons, Israel and Ellis, contributing to an unpleasant atmosphere in the office. Two events gave them a chance to leave. Stirling was teaching at Regent Street Polytechnic part-time, where one of his students, Paul Manousso suggested to his father, property developer Luke Manousso, that Stirling be invited to design a group of flats at Langham Place, Ham Common, near Richmond in Surrey, west of London. At about the same time Gowan gained a commission to design a house in the Isle of Wight. On the strength of this, the two assistants decided to leave Lyons, Israel and Ellis and form a partnership.
James Stirling, Tatler Magazine 1962 © Sandra Lousada
Dismayed at the prospect and impressed with Gowan’s potential, Israel tried to persuade him to stay, telling him that one day, the practice would be his. Gowan didn’t warm to the idea. Looking around, unimpressed by the quality of the work and the aspirations of the office, he thought ‘why would I want this?’. Lyons also tried to put him off joining up with Stirling by suggesting that Stirling was ‘a dodgy character’.
Gowan went into the partnership with confidence. Despite Stirling’s sometimes preposterous behaviour Gowan liked him and found his antics ‘outrageous but funny’. Stirling’s shortcomings were known to his contemporaries but Gowan believes they ‘admired his skill as a designer’.
Gowan recalls that in the early days together they both had ‘glaring limitations’. They were both finding their way in architecture and Gowan felt their discussions to be ‘mutually enlightening’. The two men got on fine initially and in the early days of the partnership they had ‘plenty of time to talk things out’ and became ‘worn out talking’. It was very enjoyable, ‘an ideal time before the practice grew’. Stirling’s private views were very close to those of Gowan.
Although they had strenuous arguments about architecture in the office, they would go for lunch afterwards.
James Stirling and James Gowan c.1956 - ‘creative tension’ © Mark Girouard
They had a similar sense of humour. ‘Stirling was more droll’, Gowan ‘a bit over the top, The same things made us laugh, We had the same irreverent attitude toward the establishment, though in the end Stirling was keen to join them’.
Stirling was the best critic of modern architecture Gowan ever knew and he frequently asked for Gowan’s critical advice. They never behaved badly to each other, ‘We had affection and admiration for one another that transcended that’. In their early days together they were each fully committed to the partnership, 50-50 in every way. Gowan admired Stirling’s flair, and makes the point that, although his persona was that of a large, colourful character, he was ‘surprisingly meticulous.
Gowan had a low opinion of Stirling’s knowledge of building technology. On the Ham Common project Gowan was baffled at Stirling’s seeming lack of knowledge of how to deal with the contract and costings - ‘he didn’t seem to understand square foot costings. Nor did he seem to know much about physics and chemistry. He took Gowan’s breath away when Gowan, having pointed out that without a drip on a window sill water would run into the brickwork, Stirling retorted ‘what’s wrong with that?’ Gowan’s quiet, reticent manner contrasted with his partner’s considerable and sometimes intimidating presence. The commonly held view that Stirling was always the main instigator of design ideas is not borne out by Gowan:
Stirling always needed some guidance ... at the beginning of a project he would put a lot of value on the discursive question, and was very open minded. Although he was talented and amusing Stirling couldn’t survive on his own. He was limited technically and not good at details (many of which were left to Gowan). What he was especially good at was taking a rough design and turning it into something good. He had great difficulty starting things, and usually started from the norm, which he had scrupulously looked at. He paid tremendous attention to what others had done. The present climate was Stirling’s starting point and then doing it better. He was a hopeless starter, no idea given a blank sheet, when nothing original would emerge, but could be wheeled in at the end of a design process for a quick one to jolly up a scheme. What he was best at was seeing something and elevating it.
Extracts from : Geoffrey H.Baker, The Architecture of James Stirling and His Partners James Gowan and Michael Wilford