As was very tentatively put forward in my article Some ‘way out’ speculations on the architecture of King’s College Chapel. An amateur’s view in issue number 50 of the magazine CAMBRIDGE, a possible explanation for the ethos of the College was the interior space of the Chapel. This was expressed as an abstraction - the ratio 40:80:289 - based upon the interior dimensions measured in feet. That idea seemed to me sound for a while, but after time and reflection I began to wonder if it was indeed the fullest possible expression of the glory at King’s. I was left with nagging thoughts that :

 1) the proportions of the adjacent Gibbs Fellows’ Building ought to be factored in as well ; and,
 2) the volumetric relation of these two buildings’ exteriors might be expressed in the form of the Golden Section.

To deal with the first point : the King’s architectural experience at its most elemental comprises not just the Chapel, but must include the Gibbs Fellows’ Building as well. These two ædifices are the alpha and omega of the essential King’s. One major sight in Cambridge which has achieved icon status around the world is surely the view from across the Backs of the west end of the Chapel and the neighbouring river front of the Gibbs Building to the south.

Until the latter was built in the 18th century (1724-30) the late Gothic Chapel (1446-1547) lacked a foil to complement its detailed and rather ruthless verticals. Also missing was something to give it scale. The Catholic Scot James Gibbs (1682-1754) produced here an English baroque design which is a perfect match for the Chapel, with strong horizontals in parapet, entablature and string courses to tone down the spectacular architecture of the latter. And, without the Chapel, Gibbs’s design is almost bland. But in the two together we have an ideal union of contrasts. Whereas the Chapel is of luminous honey-gold limestone, the Gibbs structure is executed in a rather chalky silver-grey Portland stone. The former is sacred, the latter profane ; the former a rooster, the latter a hen.

These two monuments form a fascinating juxtaposition which draws the eye inexorably. Both Gothic and Classic, the combination of the two creates a single indivisible entity and works as ideal architecture in ideal landscape because each building supplies what the other lacks. They balance perfectly. In the case of the Gibbs Building, we can say that it completes, possibly, once and for all, what was begun in the numerology of the interior dimensions of the Chapel. Perhaps what is supplied by the latter - 40:80:289 - is completed by Gibbs in three numbers which we may abstract from the dimensions of this building.

And this leads to my second point : that the synergy in, and complementarity of, Chapel and Gibbs Building might be expressed in a semi-mathematical equation of sorts. The bluster and fireworks of the Perpendicular style of the Chapel in no way outdo or overpower the equanimity and pre-Palladian serenity of the quieter, smaller Fellows’ Building. The two buildings never compete for attention.

If we see the two as being stylistically, historically and proportionally different but together forming a really striking whole, then perhaps we can propose an empirical formula to express this. Let us call it ‘The King’s Constant’, and let us say that it is encapsulated in the expression

40’ : 90’ : 288’ + 47’ : 57’ : 237’ = !

Here the ratio on the left is composed of the three original dimensions of the Chapel exterior (as put forth by Henry VI in 1448). It is complementary to, and balances with, that on the right which is derived from the dimensions of the Gibbs Building exterior.

The exclamation mark represents the total architectural energy generated by their propinquity : an elusive - and possibly elegant - ‘factor of monumentality’, or even Clive Bell’s enigmatic ‘Significant Form’ of 1913 taken from the world of two-dimensional painting and applied here to the realm of large-scale architecture in a semi-pastoral setting.

More aptly, perhaps, it is a symbol for the highly creative tension existing between the styles of this double masterpiece. The Gothic Chapel, for instance, is not a rambling Romantic thing but is as clear and direct and disciplined as the Parthenon. The Fellows’ Building, too, in its way, is not as Apollonian and unnuanced as at first appears. There are, for instance, more void bays on the east front than the west. One wonders how this is worked out structurally within. Also, the blind windows on the north and south ends are in the agitated Counter-Reformation style of Michelangelo and the Italian Mannerists. The overall calmness of the Renaissance canon is ever so slightly distorted and disturbed in the service of unnatural emotion.

These six dimensions (in units of feet) expressed as a sum of two ratios in a curious equation are only perhaps the elemental criteria required to precipitate an essential Cambridge ethos. This equation is possibly a general empirical formula for the numinousness at King’s which pervades all of the surrounding Fen-country. Wherever it is present, so too is the divine milieu of the University.

I think the chain of logic and reason leads us to argue that we could abstract these numbers from the local East Anglia context in a more compact form to make the primary King’s ethos ‘portable’, and hence universal. Calculating the relative volume of Chapel and Gibbs Building exteriors from these dimensions gives us the simpler expression

1,036,800 ft^3 : 634,923 ft^3 = !

which is approximately

1.6329... : 1

which is 100.924% the value of the Golden Section

1.6180... : 1

If we follow our theory that architecture at its most quintessential is certain numbers (such as the Golden Section) incorporated - consciously or unconsciously - into, and then abstracted from, the built design, then we may hypothesise that the King’s Constant is this ratio. The excellence of excellent architecture is too great a thing to be accomplished in only one building and only one volume. Here it is achieved consummately in two.

Coloured dots in the proportions 1618 : 1000 (or 809 : 500) applied to the blank back of a map of the world might globalize the ancient, élite, Cantabrigian ambience at its most compressed, influencing by sympathy the whole world with the singular, somewhat ‘queer’ æsthetic of the King’s microcosm. It would make it possible to synthesise cheaply and easily those calming, hypnotic, dream-like states of mind native to the Fens, for other places outside of, and unprotected by, the Cambridge ‘bubble’. This seems to me to be the next logical step if we have indeed isolated and identified the active factors at work in the place.

To conclude : this ratio - 809 : 500 - is very nearly (within a margin of error of 1.848%) present in the juxtaposed exterior volumes of two major buildings at King’s. It impinges upon the environment just below the threshold of perception to create an overall, overarching, protecting sense of benevolent mind. ‘Mind’ is a function of the rational architectonics of Henry VI’s dream-college. The local Cambridge æther is penetrated through and through with this sense. It contributes to the uncanny, slightly paranormal atmosphere of the place. As an æsthetic abstraction able to stand on its own in global, universal applications, (as I speculate above) this mathematical formula might just explain what we are - at bottom - subliminally feeling when we encounter true, complete and royal glory in the consummate experience called “King’s College, Cambridge”. The numerical, higher reality of the Golden Section is subversively at work behind all and in all to create an authentic English icon.

John Devlin (St Edmund’s, 1979) (17 January, 2008)