The architect's general task is to provide a warm and livable space.5w454vm and livable.

He decides for
this reason to spread out one carpet on the floor and to hang up four to form the four walls. But you
cannot build a house out of carpets. Both the carpet on the floor and the tapestry on the wall require a
struc- tural frame to hold them in the correct place. To invent this frame is the ar- chitect's second task.

This is the correct and logical path to be followed in architecture. It was in this sequence that mankind
learned how to build. In the beginning was cladding.¹ He sought to cover himself. The &covering is the
oldest architectural detail. Then the covering had to be put up somewhere if it was to afford enough
shelter to a family! Thus the walls were added, which at the same time provided protection on the sides.
In this way the idea of architecture developed in the minds of mankind and indi- vidual men.

There are architects who do things differently. Their imaginations create not spaces but sections of
walls. That which is left over around the walls then forms the rooms. And for these rooms some kind of
cladding is subsequently chosen, whatever seems fitting to the architect.

But the artist, the architect, first senses the effect that he intends to realize and sees the rooms he
wants to create in his mind's eye. He senses the effect that he wishes to exert upon the spectator: fear
and horror if it is a dungeon, reverence if a church, respect for the power of the state if a government
palace, piety if a tomb, homeyness if a residence, gaiety if a tavern. These effects are produced by both
the material and the form of the space.

Every material possesses its own language of forms, and none may lay claim for itself to the forms of
another material. For forms have been constituted out of the applicability and the methods of
production of materials. They have come into being with and through materials. No material permits an
encroachment into its own circle of forms. Whoever dares to make such an encroachment not-
withstanding this is branded by the world a counterfeiter. Art, however, has nothing to do with
counterfeiting or lying. Her paths are full of thorns, but they are pure.

One could cast St. Stefan's Tower in cement and erect it somewhere, but then it would not be a work of
art.It was a sad time for art, a sad time for those few artists among the architects of that time who were
forced to prostitute their art for the sake of the masses. It was granted to only a small number
consistently to find contractors broad-minded enough to let the artist have his way. Schmidt was
probably the luckiest. After him came Hansen, who, when he was having a rough time, sought solace in
terra-cotta buildings. Poor Ferstel must have endured terrible agonies when they forced him at the last
minute to nail an entire section of facade in poured cement onto his University.3 The remaining
architects of this period-with a few exceptions-knew how to keep themselves free of nightmarish ago-
nies like these.

As I already mentioned at the outset, cladding is older even than structure. The reasons for cladding
things are numerous. At times it is a protection against bad weather-oil-base paint, for example, on
wood, iron, or stone; at times there are hygienic reasons for it-as in the case of enameled tiles that cover
the wall sur- faces in the bathroom; at times it is the means to a specific effect-as in the color painting of
statues, the tapestries on walls, the veneer on wood. The principle of cladding, which was first
articulated by Semper, extends to nature as well. Man is covered with skin, the tree with bark.

From the principle of cladding, however, I have derived a very precise law which I call the law of
cladding. Do not be alarmed. It is usually said that laws put an end to all progressive development. And
indeed, the old masters got along 60 Vien perfectly well without laws. Certainly. It would be idleness to
establish laws century against thievery in a place where thievery is unknown. When the materials used
Anfang for cladding had not yet been imitated, there was no need for laws. But now it Führer seems to
me to be high time for them.

Künstle Österre The law goes like this: we must work in such a way that a confusion of the mate- Archite

rial clad with its cladding is impossible. That means, for example, that wood may 1906. be painted any
color except one-the color of wood. In a city where the exhibi- tion committee decided that all of the
wood in the Rotunda should be painted "like mahogany," in a city in which wood graining is the
exclusive type of painted decoration, this is a very daring law. There seem to be people here who
consider this kind of thing elegant. Since the railway and tramway cars as well as the entire technique of
carriage building-come from England, they are the only wooden objects that display pure colors. I now
dare to assert that this kind of tramcar especially one of the electric line is more pleasing to me with its
pure colors than it would be if, according to the principles of beauty set out by the exhibition
committee, it had been painted "like mahogany."

But a true feeling for elegance lies dormant, although deep and buried, even in our people. If not, the
railway administration could not count on the fact that the brown color of the third-class cars painted to
look like wood would call forth a

67
lesser feeling of elegance than the green color

Text editor

Edit image

Fill Form

Annotation

* approx

10:03 AM

41 B/s

A52

Done

67
lesser feeling of elegance than the green color of the second- and first-class cars.

I once demonstrated this unconscious feeling to one of my colleagues in a drastic manner. On the first
floor of a building there were two apartments. The tenant of the one apartment had had his window
bars, which had been stained brown, painted white at his own expense. We made a bet according to
which we brought a certain number of people to the front of the building and, without pointing out to
them the difference between the window bars, asked them on which side they felt that Herr
Pluntzengruber lived and on which side Prince Liechtenstein- these were the two parties that we told
them rented the apartments. All of those who were taken to the building unanimously declared that the
wood-stained side was Pluntzengruber's. Since then my colleague has only painted things white.

Wood staining is, of course, an invention of our century. The Middle Ages painted wood bright red for
the most part, the Renaissance blue; the Baroque and Rococo painted interiors white, exteriors green.
Our peasants still retain enough good sense to paint only with pure colors. Don't the green gate and the
green fence of the countryside, the green jalousies against the freshly whitewashed wall, have a
charming effect? Unfortunately several villages have already adopted the taste of the exhibition
commission.

One will still recall the moral indignation that arose in the camp of the surrogate arts and crafts when
the first furniture painted with oil-base paint came to Vien- na from England. But the rage of these good
men was not directed against the paint. They painted with oil-base paints in Vienna too as soon as
softwood came into use. But the fact that the English pieces dared to display their colors so openly and
freely instead of imitating hardwood provoked these strange fellows. They rolled their eyes and acted as
if they had never used oil-base colors at all. These gentlemen presumably thought that everyone
hitherto had assumed their stained-wood furniture and buildings were actually made of hardwood.

I trust I can be assured of the Association's gratitude if, after such observations, I name no names among
the painters at the exhibition.

Applied to stuccowork, the principle of cladding would run like this: stucco can take any ornament with
just one exception-rough brickwork. One would think the declaration of such a self-evident fact to be
unnecessary, but just recently someone drew my attention to a building whose plaster walls were
painted red and then seamed with white lines. Similarly, the type of decoration so beloved in kitchens
imitation stone squares-belongs in this category. In general, any and all materials used to cover walls-
wallpaper, oilcloth, fabric, or tapestries- ought not to aspire to represent squares of brick or stone. It is
thus easy to un- derstand why the legs of our dancers when covered with knit stockinets have such an
unaesthetic effect. Woven underclothing may be dyed any color at all, just not skin color.

The cladding material can keep its natural color if the area to be covered happens to be of the same
color. Thus, I can smear tar on black iron or cover wood with another wood (veneer, marquetry, and so
on) without having to color the cover- ing wood; I can coat one metal with another by heating or
galvanizing it. But the principle of cladding forbids the cladding material to imitate the coloration of the
underlying material. Thus iron can be tarred, painted with oil colors, or gal- vanized, but it can never be
camouflaged with a bronze color or any other metal- lic color

68

10:03 AM

Done

28 b/s A52

Here chamottes and artificial stone tiles also deserve mention. The one kind im- itates terrazzo (mosaic)
paving, the other Persian carpets. Certainly there are people who actually take the tiles for what they
are imitating-for the manufac- turers must know their customers.

But no, you imitators and surrogate architects, you are mistaken! The human soul is too lofty and
sublime for you to be able to dupe it with your tactics and tricks. Of course, our pitiful bodies are in your
power. They have only five senses at their disposal to distinguish real from counterfeit. And at that point
where the man with his sense organs is no longer adequate begins your true domain. There is your
realm. But even here you are mistaken once more! Paint the best inlays high, high up on the wood
ceiling and our poor eyes will have to take it on good faith perhaps. But the divine spirits will not be
fooled by your tricks. They sense that even those intarsia decorations most skillfully painted to look "like
inlay" are nothing but oil paint.
I recently got into a quarrel with an acquaintance of mine. He did not dispute

69

10:03 AM

13 B/s A52

Done

69

Underclo

I recently got into a quarrel with an acquaintance of mine. He did not dispute what I had written about
the arts and crafts. But the essays on fashion and cloth- ing had rubbed him the wrong way. He
reproached me for wanting to put the whole world into uniform. "What would become of our splendid
national cos- tumes?"

New Fri

Here he became poetic. He thought about his childhood, the lovely Sundays in Linz; he thought of the
local folk who assembled for church in their festive attire. How glorious, how beautiful, how
picturesque! How different everything is now! Only the old people cling to the old costumes. The young
ape the ways of city people. One ought instead try to win the people back to the old costume. That
would be the task of the cultured and literate man.
"So you think they liked this old costume?" I interjected. "Certainly." "And so

you wish that this costume would be retained forever?" "It is my most ardent

desire."

Now I had him where I wanted him. "Do you realize," I said to him, "that you are a truly base and
egotistical man? Do you realize that you want to exclude an en- tire class, a large, wonderful class, our
peasant class, from all of the blessings of culture? And why? So that your eyes will be picturesquely
titillated as soon as you make your way into the countryside! Why do you not run about dressed that
way? No thank you, you say, I would just as soon not. But you demand that other people oblige you by
gadding about in the countryside like figures in a landscape just so that your drunken intellectual's eyes
will not be offended. Well then, why don't you take their place there sometime, serving up country
sausages to His Excellency the Commerce Minister who wants to enjoy the untainted mountain
pastures? The peasant has a higher mission to fulfill than to populate the moun- tains stylishly for the
holiday visitor. The peasant-so the saying has already gone for a hundred years is not a plaything!"

I too admit that I really take pleasure in the old costumes. But this does not give me the right to demand
from my fellow man that he put them on for my sake. A costume is clothing that has frozen in a
particular form; it will develop no further. It is always a sign that its wearer has given up trying to change
his cir- cumstances. The costume is the symbol of resignation. It says, my wearer must give up seeking to
gain a better position for himself in the struggle for existence; he must give up trying to develop himself
further. When the peasant still fought with vim and vigor, when he was still full of the greenest hopes,
he would never even have dreamed of putting on the same suit that his grandfather had worn. The
Middle Ages, the Peasants' War, the Renaissance-these eras knew no rigid adherence to clothing styles.
It was only the different ways of life that caused the distinction between the clothing of the city dweller
and the peasant. City dweller and peasant at that time related to one another like today's city dweller
and farmer.

But then the peasant lost his independence. He became a serf. And a serf he had to remain, he and his
children and his children's children. To what purpose should he strive to raise himself above his
surroundings by means of his clothing, for what should he modify his style of dress? For it was of no use
at all. The peas- ant class became a caste; the peasant was deprived of every hope of leaving this caste
behind. Peoples that have separated into castes all have one trait in com- mon: they all cling rigidly for
thousands of years to their native costume.
71

Text editor

Edit image

Fill Form

Annotation

* approx

10:03 AM

Done

55

B/s

A52

+
Then the peasant became free. But only externally. Internally he still felt in-

ferior to the city dweller. The latter was the master. The hundreds of years of

servitude were still too much in the peasant's bones. But now a new generation arises. It has declared
war on the costume. In doing so it has a good ally-the threshing machine. Wherever the threshing
machine wages its campaign, it is over forever for the picturesque old clothes. They now

are going just where they belong: to the costume-hiring agency.

These are heartless words. But they must be spoken, for there have even been clubs formed in Austria
out of false sentimentality that endeavor to preserve for the peasant the stigma of his servitude. Clubs
that supported exactly the oppo- site would be much more indispensable. For even we city dwellers are
still at a very far remove from the clothing that the great civilized nations wear. Of course on the outside
we look quite passable. There we could hold our own with the others. We could manage, if we allowed
ourselves to be dressed by one of the top Viennese tailors, to be taken for civilized Europeans on the
sidewalks of Lon- don, New York, or Peking. But woe to us if the top layers of our clothing fell off piece
by piece and we stood there in our underclothes! Then everyone would realize that we simply put on
our European clothes like a mask, and that under- neath we still wear the national costume.

But it is either/or. We have to decide. Either we have the courage of our convic- tions to differentiate
ourselves from the rest of mankind and dress in a national costume, or we want to cling to the rest of
humanity and dress as they do. But it certainly lacks refinement to play the cultivated individual only on
the outside, to seek to dissimulate by means of the articles of clothing that are within the stranger's
view.

While our top layer of clothing separates us by a whole world from the peasant, our undergarments, our
underclothes, are exactly the same as those of the peas- ant. In Budapest they wear the same
underpants as the csikos;¹ in Vienna people wear the same underpants as the Lower Austrian farmer.
What is it then that so much separates us in terms of our underwear from the rest of the civilized
nations?
The fact is that we lag at least fifty years behind the stage in which England finds

itself at present. There, knit underclothes have vanquished woven under-

clothes. We have had no great revolutions to take note of in the course of this

century in terms of the top layers of clothing. All the more decisive have they

been in underclothes. A century ago people still wrapped themselves entirely in

linen. But in the course of this century we have gradually set about restoring to

the knitwear manufacturer his proper domain. We proceeded step by step, from one part of the body to
the next. We began with the feet, and then moved up- ward. At present, the work of the knitter is
directed to the whole lower portion of the body. Meanwhile the upper body must still put up with the
fact that a linen undershirt takes the place of a knit one. We began with the feet. In this area we have
also made progress. We no longer wear foot wrappings but stockings. Yet we still wear linen
underpants, an arti- cle of clothing already extinct in England and America.

If a man came to Vienna from the Balkan states, where they still wear foot wrap- pings, and went in
search of a lingerie shop where he could buy his customary 72

Text editor

Edit image

Fill Form
Annotation

* approx

loos

foot covering, he would be met with the news-incomprehensible to him-tha foot wrappings cannot be
bought in Vienna. He could, of course, order them "Well, what do people wear here then?" "Socks."
"Socks? Why, they are very uncomfortable. And too hot in the summer. Doesn't anyone wear foot
wrapping: anymore?" "Oh, yes, the very old people. But the young people find foot wrap pings
uncomfortable." And so the good man from the Balkans decides with a heavy heart to make the attempt
to wear socks. In doing so, he arrives at a new rung of human culture.

Philippopolis is to Vienna as Vienna is to New York. In the latter city, then, let us try to buy-not foot
wrappings, for no one would understand us at all-but rather linen underpants. I must ask the reader to
reread the preceding conver sation once again and for "the man from the Balkan states" substitute "the
Vien- nese man," and for "foot wrappings" substitute "linen underpants." For the con- versation would
wind up exactly the same way! I am speaking from personal ex- perience. I have heard the original of
this conversation, the one concerning the foot wrappings, so spoken that it is comprehensible only in
the Viennese con- text.

Whoever finds woven material more comfortable than knit material, let him con- tinue to wear it
forever. For it would be foolish to impose a form of culture on someone, a form of culture that does not
correspond to his innermost essence. The fact is that for the man of high culture, linen has become
uncomfortable. And so we must bide our time until it begins to become uncomfortable for us Aus- trians
too. It was the increasing participation in physical exercise, in sports ac- tivities that came from England,
that resulted in the growing aversion to linen underclothes. The starched dickey, collar, and cuffs also
are a hindrance to the sportsman. And the unstarched dickey is the forerunner of the unstarched col-
lar. Both of them have the sole task of paving the way for the knit shirt and the flannel shirt.

Knit underclothes, however, do signal one great danger. They are really only meant for people who want
to wash for the sake of their own cleanliness. But many Germans see in the wearing of knit underclothes
a carte blanche for not having to wash anymore. All inventions designed to cut down on washing origi-
nate in Germany. From Germany came cellulose-fiber underclothes, the fake shirtfront, and the tie with
an attached dickey made out of the same fabric. In Germany originates the lesson that washing is not
beneficial to one's health and that one can wear the same knit shirt for years-so long as one's
acquaintances do not positively forbid it. An American cannot imaginé a German without his fresh white
but fake dickey. This is manifested in the caricature of the German which the American comic strips have
correctly presented. The German can be recognized by the tip of his dickey, which always peeks out
from his waistcoat. It is only the second-class citizens in American comics who wear fake shirtfronts: the
tramp, the vagabond.

The false dickey is truly no symbol of angelical cleanliness. It is all the more un- pleasant that this article
of clothing, which so pitifully testifies to the cultural position of a people, is to be found in the section of
the exhibition in which our best tailors have their displays. It lowers the level of that entire elegant
section.

A new commercial type is represented by the "tailors and outfitters." The outfit- ter stocks everything
that pertains to a man's attire. It is no easy task. He is re- sponsible to the buyer for creating a
fashionable impression with every article 74

4:02

lill 56%

loos

74

that he sells. One can demand from a well-run fashion shop that one be able to grab from its shelves at
random without coming up with anything tasteless or unrefined. The outfitter must make no
concessions to the masses. The excuse that other kinds of tastes must be attended to as well should
never be used by first-rate businesses. They should never make a mistake. Once the outfitter does
happen to make a mistake, he is obligated to his customers no longer to carry the article in question.

It is difficult to win the leading role in the fashion business, but it is still more dif- ficult to keep it. And
yet only the minority of goods are manufactured in the out- fitter's workshop. He is primarily a retailer.
His relationship to the craftsman is very similar to that of the collector or museum director to the artist.
It is incum- bent on each alike to pick out the very best from the abundance of what is made. That alone
is mental work enough to fill a person's existence.

One must state this clearly if one is inundated, as I am, with anonymous missives which usually express
the "suspicion" that a businessman whom I have recom- mended does not manufacture his own goods.
Even if I were to see something improper about this situation-and I do not-I could not spend my time
verify- ing the origin of goods. I am not a detective. It is a matter of indifference to me where they have
come from. The main thing is that the businessman be in a posi- tion to deliver these particular goods of
this particular quality. It makes no dif- ference relative to the objects whether they are at present made
in his own workshop or the work is distributed among several outside workshops. This is the only thing
that concerns me here.

It is distressing to find so many ready-made, pre-tied ties in the numerous women's fashion displays.
Even on men these bow ties look very ordinary. The necktie that displays a knot or a ribbon in front and
is fastened in the back be- longs under the rubric of paper underwear and paste diamonds. I will pass
over in silence that kind of tie which is wound twice around the neck, attempting to at- tain its pretty
effect with the aid of a piece of cardboard covered with silk fabric and some "patented" details; it is the
favorite necktie of our suburban dandies. But the fact that our Viennese girls and women make use of
such surrogates for the tying of a bow shows that the often celebrated Viennese chic is in the process of
dying out. I wish there were a shop in Vienna whose owner would proudly be able to answer every
seeker of pre-tied ties, "Pre-tied ties? No! We do not carry them!"*

*The desire for a firm that does not carry

any pre-tied ties has long since been fulfilled a hundred times over! Josef Hoffmann writes in
Querschnitt, December 1930, concerning these ties with cardboard insets which he too wore at that
time and which I have criticized that they were self-tied. That is a lie. I have been wanting to lodge a
complaint against this reproach of his. Hoffmann believes that I further slander Olbrich's memory by
criticizing him for wearing stylish suits along with these cardboard- inset ties. This is, of course, a
criticism that I cannot make of Hoffmann, even if I would want to. 1931. [Hoffmann's comments in
Querschnitt appear on p. 848 under the heading "Complaints." The text is as follows: "Dear Editor-in-
Chief! In the last issue of Querschnitt... I read a reply by Adolf Loos in answer to what was in a certain
sense a directly intended mockery of the excessively objective Gretor. Weeks later, he finally takes
advantage of this opportunity thoroughly to slander me and my long dead friends Olbrich and Moser. If
it is in fact true that Loos always wore self-tied ties, if he did not deliberately make up the story about
them himself, then he must know, were his memory a little bit better, that we did the same. But his tale
of the checkered frock coat with the velvet collar is surely one of his real fabrications, and has sprung
from his never-dying hatred. I would gladly have kept silent if Olbrich and Moser were still alive and
could defend themselves. Moser and I at one time felt the duty-since there was nothing in the whole
world but copies and bad imitations of all past styles-to free ourselves from ornament and above all to
begin with the simplest means so as to finally bring about a complete stylistic transformation in building.
Our reasons for this may perhaps seem superfluous today, but nevertheless it must have been necessary
at the time."-Ed.]

4:03

40ll 55%

loos

Who does not know of Potemkin's villages, the ones that Catherine's cunning fa- vorite built in the
Ukraine?' They were villages of canvas and pasteboard, vil- lages intended to transform a visual desert
into a flowering landscape for the eyes of Her Imperial Majesty. But was it a whole city which that
cunning minis- ter was supposed to have produced?

Surely such things are only possible in Russia! But the Potemkin city of which I wish to speak here is
none other than our dear
Vienna herself. It is a hard accusation; it will also be hard for me to succeed in

proving it. For to do so I need listeners with a very fine sense of justice, such lis-

teners, unfortunately, as are scarcely to be found in our city nowadays.

Anyone who tries to pass himself off as something better than he is is a swindler; he deserves to be held
in general contempt, even if no one has been harmed by him. But if someone attempts to achieve this
effect with false jewels and other imitations? There are countries where such a man would suffer the
same fate. But in Vienna we have not yet come so far. There is only a small circle of people who would
feel that in such a case an immoral act has occurred, that they have been swindled. But today it is not
only by means of the fake watch chain, not only by the furnishings of one's residence (which consist of
outright imitations), but also by one's residence itself, the building in which one lives, that everyone
wants to make himself out to be something more than he is.

Whenever I stroll along the Ring, it always seems to me as if a modern Potemkin had wanted to carry
out his orders here, as if he had wanted to persuade some- body that in coming to Vienna he had been
transported into a city of nothing but aristocrats.

Whatever the Italy of the Renaissance produced in the way of lordly palaces was plundered in order to
conjure up as if by magic a new Vienna for Her Majesty the Mob. A new Vienna where only those people
lived who could afford to occupy an entire palace from socle to cornice line. On the ground floor were
the stables; on the low-ceilinged, intermediate mezzanine level were the servants; on the first of the
upper stories, with its rich and elaborate architecture, were the banquet and ceremonial rooms; above
them were the residential and sleeping quarters. The Viennese landlord very much enjoyed owning such
a palace; the tenant also enjoyed living in one. The simple man, who had rented only one room and a
w.c. on the uppermost floor, was overcome with a blissful feeling of feudal splendor and lordly grandeur
whenever he looked at the building he lived in from the out- side. Does the owner of an imitation
diamond not gaze fondly at the glittering glass? Oh, the tale of the deceiver deceived!

It will be objected that I impute false intentions to the Viennese. It is the ar- chitects who are at fault;
the architects should not have built this way. I must de- fend the architects. For every city gets the
architects it deserves. Supply and demand regulate architectural form. He whose work most accords
with the wishes of the populace will have the most to build. And the most capable ar- chitect may
depart from this life without ever having received a commission. The others, however, create schools of
followers. Then one builds in a certain way because he has become accustomed to it. And he must build
this way. The building speculator would most dearly like to have his facades entirely plastered from top
to bottom. It costs the least. And at the same time, he would be acting in the truest, most correct, and
most artistic way. But people would not want to

954:03

1 llll 55%

loos

And at the same time, he would be acting tistic way. But people would not want to

95

move into the building. And so, in the interest of rentability, the landlord is forced to nail on a particular
kind of facade, and only this kind.

Yes, literally nail on! For these Renaissance and Baroque palaces are not actu- ally made out of the
material of which they seem. Some pretend that they are made of stone, like the Roman and Tuscan
palaces; others of stucco, like the buildings of the Viennese Baroque. But they are neither. Their
ornamental de- tails, their corbels, festoons, cartouches, and denticulation, are nailed-on poured
cement. Of course, this technique too, which comes into use for the first time in this century, is perfectly
legitimate. But it does not do to use it with forms whose origin is intimately bound up with a specific
material simply because no technical difficulties stand in the way. It would have been the artist's task to
find a new formal language for new materials. Everything else is imitation.

But this was not even a matter of concern to the Viennese of the last architec- tural epoch. He was
delighted, in fact, to be able to imitate with such lowly mate- rials the more expensive material that
served as the model. Like the authentic parvenu that he was, he believed that the others would not
notice the deception. That is what the parvenu always thinks. At first he is sure that the false shirt
dickeys, the false fur collars, all of the imitation objects with which he surrounds himself fulfill their roles
perfectly. It is only those who stand above him, those who have already surmounted the parvenu stage
and are among the initiated, who smile at his futile exertions. And in time the parvenu's eyes too open
up. First he recognizes one inauthenticity among his friends, then another, in things he had earlier
thought were authentic. Then, resigned, he gives them up for him- self as well.

Poverty is no disgrace. Not everyone can come into the world the lord of a feudal

estate. But to pretend to one's fellow men that one has such an estate is ridicu-

lous and immoral. After all, should we be ashamed to live in a rental apartment in

a building with many others who are our social equals? Should we be ashamed of

the fact that there are materials that are too expensive for us to build with?

Should we be ashamed to be nineteenth-century men and not men who want to

live in a building whose architectural style belongs to an earlier age? If we ceased

to be ashamed, you would see how quickly we would acquire an architecture

suited to our own times. This is what we have anyway, you will object. But I

mean an architectural style that we will be able to pass on to posterity in good

to with pride. But we have not yet found this architectural style in our century in

Vienna.

Whether one tries to create out of canvas, pasteboard, and paint the wood huts where happy peasants
dwell, or to erect out of brick and poured cement would- be stone palaces where feudal lords seem to
reside, it is the same in principle. Potemkin's spirit has hovered over Viennese architecture in this
century.

14