XXXIX. Flats

The ordinary town house, in distinction from the country house, may be considered as a dwelling which, owing to its restricted size enforced by the costliness of land, cannot expand laterally. As the land is sold in pieces like cloth of a constant width it is capable of easier extension to the back, and the form of house which results from these arbitrary conditions is long and narrow, and as the plan is unable to expand laterally it develops vertically, and its rooms, instead of being placed side by side, are placed on top of each other.

But in the flat, the houses instead of being packed laterally are packed vertically, and so a block of flats is really a series of one-storey country houses placed on top of each other. But the conditions which have led to the development of flats in modern towns have not been favourable ones. Built as commercial speculations on restricted sites to meet a demand which is generally in excess of the supply, the object of their existence has been to secure the highest rent for the minimum of space and convenience. But as the flat is more economical to work than the town house, and as it possesses several other advantages over it which will be alluded to later on, its tenant is prepared to put up with certain restrictions which do not essentially belong to the flat at all, but only to the flat as it is now built. Tradition has fixed the lowest standard of comfort demanded in the house, but no tradition applies to the modern flat, and the fact that in its present state it still competes successfully with the more commodious house of equal rent seems to show that it is more adapted for town life.

In the flat one might suppose the utilitarian spirit which prides itself on its practical qualities and sound common sense would at least find expression. Here it might be assumed there is no margin for the art of the house, and the lift, the electric light and the other modern conveniences seem to bear witness to the prevalence of conditions with which it is popularly supposed that art has little to do.

And yet a visit to the average flat will impress the intelligent observer chiefly with the extraordinary ignorance of planning which it displays, the reckless squandering of space, and the want of any sort of arrangement in the rooms.

He may be duly impressed with the imposing facade, but on opening the front door of the flat he is visiting he will be confronted with an apparently interminable passage, narrow and lofty. On each side of this dismal thoroughfare are rows of shut doors, each opening into minute compartments having no definite arrangement or sequence, so that the unattended visitor on opening one at a venture may find himself confronted by the elegance of the miniature drawing-room, or precipitated into the more homely if less pretentious appointments of the kitchen. And such a dwelling is cheerfully regarded by its occupants as a cosy flat,” and its inconveniences and restrictions are considered as essential parts of the scheme, the defects of the qualities for which they pay so dear.

The popular view as to dwellings seems to be that they grow like trees in certain shapes, and with certain internal defects beyond the control of mere human agencies, and so the flat, like the villa, is accepted without a murmur of criticism.

The plans for flats which I illustrate may be found to be somewhat more liberal in their accommodation than those to be obtained at a moderate rental, in London at any rate; but the present high rent of flats seems to be due to temporary artificial conditions, and there is no valid reason why a flat should not provide the same accommodation as a terrace house for approximately the same rental. Moreover, the plans submitted are mainly to illustrate certain principles of planning which would apply to small flats as well as large ones.

The first essential is to secure a roomy and spacious ensemble in the sitting-rooms by such modifications as we have already considered in the ordinary house plan, and this is a more pressing requirement in the flat because its rooms are generally small, and there is no garden to afford relief to those prisoned within its cells. The apartments for the servants should not be jumbled up with the family rooms, but should be definitely planned and isolated, and while the sitting-rooms can be connected to give an ample floor-area, there should be rooms also which may be entirely quiet and private. A balcony is also a desirable feature in a gardenless dwelling.

On referring to the larger plan illustrated, it may be noted that the servant can reach the front door and the bedrooms without passing through the sitting-rooms. On entering from the porch the visitor, instead of finding himself in a narrow passage, is at once welcomed in a roomy hall, beyond which a glimpse may be caught of the drawing-room. In both hall and dining-room the planning has led naturally to recessed fireplaces, and in spite of the ingle-nookeries of the modern villa it is maintained that such a type is unequalled for comfort. The bedrooms are five in number, including the servant’s bedroom, and thus affbrd the full complement of rooms which the average family demands, while the furnishing of some of these as bed-sitting-rooms would afford private retreats for the individual members of the family.

The whole scheme is practically a house built round a court which affords light to the servants’ premises and to the passages from which the bedrooms open. This passage, with its side lighting and ceiling at a low level, will be entirely different to the narrow and lofty one which has already been mentioned. Its windows will not afford an outlook into the court, but with their leaded glazing will merely let a toned light into the passage.

There is a lack of storage-space for boxes, but it has been considered that space in the flat itself is too valuable to be used in this way, and the basement or roof-space of the building would afford the necessary accommodation of this kind required by the tenants. In the treatment of the exterior of such a building simplicity and economy should be the ruling ideas, and the use of cleanly whitewash is recommended, which with some bright window boxes and a roof of green slates will make an ensemble which would possess the qualities of freshness and gaiety which are the essence of beauty in building, and worth miles of grimy pedantic facades.

Let the money which would otherwise be spent in trying to impress the indifferent passer-by by all sorts of architectural features be spent instead on the interior, or in adding a few more square feet in area to the rooms.

Such a building, placed in a town where the inhabitants are not forced by the unchecked greed of the speculator to huddle their houses together in restricted sites, would naturally be surrounded by foliage, and its white walls with their gay window adornments would rise out of green leaves. Within easy reach, if not actually surrounding the building itself, would be the public garden, which would replace that private garden which its occupants are unable to obtain. I am aware that the term public gardens conjures up a sorry vision of winding walks, carpet bedding, and notices to keep off the grass. Very different is the public garden I should ask for as a satisfactory substitute for a private domain. It would be selected first of all for its natural beauties, including, if possible, a piece of woodland, and a stream perhaps, and these would be developed on natural lines, while within its bounds would also be included enclosed apartments for the culture and display of flowers and fruit.

The inclusion of natural features in such a garden would of course only be possible in certain cases, but if the garden is entirely artificial and formal it should be designed with thought and feeling, and with plenty of light and shade, and some good vista effects.

The smaller plan for a flat shows the application of the same principles in a flat which, lighted only from the front and back, might be built as a continuous terrace. Here there is one good-sized sitting-room, with ingle fireplace and balcony, adjoining which is a bed-sitting-room, in which the beds can be entirely screened by curtains. The bedroom furniture would be designed in the form of little cabinets, which when closed would help to convey the character of a sitting-room. Besides this bed-sitting-room are two other bedrooms at the back, and a servant’s bedroom isolated from the family rooms, a bathroom and kitchen premises. If the bedroom accommodation thus provided is not all required, the bed-sitting-room adjoining the hall could be furnished as a drawing-room, and if necessary it could be cut off from the hall by closing the sliding doors and entering it from the small door at the back, to which access from the front door is afforded by means of the passage adjoining the kitchen.