The Library Group of Buildings, Manor Road, Oxford, completed in 1964 for the University of Oxford provide the city with its only recent university buildings of international calibre.(1) Designed by Sir Leslie Martin and Colin St John Wilson the collection of three main building ‘blocks’ on pavilions brings together the library facilities for Law, English and the Institute of Statisticians. The largest of the cluster of ‘blocks’, the Bodleian Law Library, housing 450,000 books for reference only, is the terminus for the visitor to the complex ascending the grand exteriors staircase around which the three libraries are spatially composed.(2) The Manor Road Group offers an insight into not only the result of a collaboration between two architects, but also presents and opportunity to study the architect’s intensions when designing a library building.
The design of any large building is rarely the work of [or rarely results from the concepts of], one sole architect. Although it can be stated that certain principles are adopted when realising a design, the lead architect/s remain the authors to the object being produced. Collaborations between professionals within an art discipline also result, naturally, in a collaboration and mixing of individual ethics based upon a common foundation. It can be stated that Martin and Wilson both subscribed to Le Corbusier’s dictum that ‘the plan is the generator of form’, together with other common design mannerisms associated with mid-20th century Modernist design. On occasion, guiding principles can be clearly identified on the Manor Road complex.(3)
However, there are other principles and concepts that the architects weave into their designs which manifest themselves not in such an open and honest a manner. Clearly, if Le Corbusier’s ‘plan is the generator of form’ is held true for the Library complex, it would be through a study of the building plan, route and then section which would unravel a web of design concept, and thus a reading into the architect’s intension. These methods of reading a building require a multi-faceted approach from any study, as they separate themselves from the realm of the purely aesthetic as a starting point, but rather adopt the approach that an aesthetic is ascertained from a plannometric exploration coupled with function and use. Why is the brick coursing arranged so to mimic stone? Why the exaggerated stair route? Why the separation of the three libraries into three distinct blocks? Why the modest entrances to these three libraries? A design methodology binds these decisions into a whole, and if it can be stated that Martin and Wilson were involved within the Independent Group of Architects, and with Peter and Allison Smithson in particular, then it can also be suggested that a defining concept was prevalent throughout every realised element of the Manor Road Group, from the overall layout of the site to the, say, detailing of the handrails. An undercurrent if concept and thought flows through the building and binds it together like DNA in a human body.
It is from this basis of understanding the architect’s intensions by studying either their building as a whole [at a macro level], or by studying any single element of the building [at a micro level], that this essay will explore the intensions of the architects of the Manor Road Group, and in particular Colin St John Wilson.(4)
As stated above, Martin and Wilson were followers of Le Corbusier’s teachings. Overlapping this foundation was Wilson’s clear alliance to Ludwig Wittgenstein’s writing concerning not only the built realm but also more broadly aspects of language, meaning and use. Within Wilson’s 1992 publication ‘Architectural Reflections: Studies in the Philosophy and Practice of Architecture’, Wilson draws heavily on Wittgenstein’s philosophy when discussing the position of architecture within the spectrum of art or practice. It is within this publication also that Wilson references Wittgenstein’s claim that “architecture immortalises and glorifies something: hence there can be no architecture where there is nothing to glorify.”(5) This essay relates this particular statement to Wilson’s own work, and specifically to the Manor Road Library Group. A study will be undertaken to understand the Manor Road Group through this Wittgensteinian lens, in an attempt to formulate a new historical reading of the building, and to answer the key question: If architecture has to glorify something, in designing the Manor Road Group, what was Wilson trying to glorify, and in turn what does the Manor Road Library glorify? Key elements of the designed and realised building, with emphasis on the exterior envelope(6), will be studied to tackle this question.
This essay will also attempt to understand a strange curiosity within the existing literature regarding the Manor Road complex. Although reference is made to the co-architects in texts concerning the history of the buildings, and Martin himself documents in detail the design and building process in his published studio monograph, Wilson makes little or no mention of having any involvement as an architect. In fact, if one were to research Wilson’s own architectural portfolio purely from his own autobiographical accounts of his work, one would struggle to find any of his own references to the Manor Road Group. It is understandable that Wilson is known largely for the later New British Library in London, but to disregard a building of such merit, and one which Pevsner rates so highly, from ones own work is curious and somewhat suspicious indeed.
As Wilson argues, “…meaning lies in use…”(7), and therefore it can also be taken that the notion of use within the design of his building is elevated to that of not only a function but to a clear aesthetic. “It enables functions to draw attention to themselves and thereby to register their identity.”(8) Within this exploration to discover the glory within Wilson’s design, the quote above highlights the fact that the reading of the library complex cannot be divorced from the fact that it is a Library, a public building, and a building built for use. For Wilson, meaning lies in use, not aesthetic, plan, section, or such romantic theories of memory and place, etc., and although for architects such as Martin and Wilson a “…building’s design was principally generated from the plan, with materials, structure and aesthetics relegated to secondary considerations…”(9), a critical reading of this complex cannot be separated from the actions that occur within its bounds(10), and similar actions that may occur outside of its bounds. Therefore, there can be no staircase without travel upon it, no window without a view through it, and no building without a use of it. Within this exploration, there can be no understanding of the form of the building without a coupling of form and function, of form and use.
The Manor Road Group, although labelled as being located on Manor Road, is actually accessed from St Cross Road. Aligned neither to Manor Road or St Cross Road, the building is positioned on a slight oblique angle to both of these vehicular thoroughfares. It is clear from the protruding grand external staircase that pedestrian assess and enjoyment of the complex is emphasised over the introduction of the site from a car/bus. Given that Manor Road and St Cross Road, although not running completely perpendicular to each other along their lengths, do join at a perpendicular junction [to the south of the site], it is peculiar how the building does not align itself to this junction. In fact, in plan, the complex is at pains to align itself to any other surrounding site feature, except for the extreme north end of St Cross Road.
The Manor Road Group, built as an entirely new-build project and not as an extension to an existing structure, could have been aligned to any datum. Situated on a ‘corner site’, it has the enviable bonus of being seen from two angles, and in effect showing off two facades to the main streets. Further, the complex not only dis-aligns itself with the physical context, but also is separate and abstract from the notion of the traditional University college system; the Bodleian Law Library is separate and distinct from all other University of Oxford colleges, and is only linked to other parts of the university, on could say, by subject and function.
The original Bodleian Libraries, the Bodleian Old Library and the Bodleian Library on Park Road, are situated barely 300m east of their newest sibling. What is most interesting is that although there is no visual connection between theses buildings, these three institutions are linked plannometrically by a common datum– their plans all line through along a grid, amid a chaos of shifting plans of buildings surrounding them [Fig. 1]. Martin and Wilson’s library group can now be seen to relate in use and form to its sister buildings. Relating uses under the ‘umbrella’ of the Bodleian Institute expands the notion of ‘meaning lies in use’.

Fig.1 The Manor Road and Old Bodleian Buildings align perfectly.
A metaphysical connection across streets, and centuries of architecture, is made, and this elevates and enforces the idea of the newest library. By weaving its form into the rich tapestry of history onto which it is sited, it is bound into the history of libraries in Oxford. Is this modern building recalling days of glory long past?
Mention has already been made to the buildings’ most striking feature, the external staircase, which is drawn across the site and reaches out towards St Cross Road like an outstretched tongue. Much has already been written and comment upon the similarities between these steps and the Odessa steps depicted so famously in Sergei Eisenstein’s film ‘The Battleship Potemkin’, a film much admired in the 1960’s. However, before joining this argument, and its relevance to the history of the building, a moment should be taken to understand the evolution of the design, with particular reference to the Steps.
Early design development plates of the building which are documented in texts published by the Architectural Press and by Martin’s studio at the time of the opening of the complex display a striking design amendment which acts as a schism between the designed and realised form. The external staircase seems to have shrunk in width from the design sketches and models to the built form itself. And this seems to be the only significant change in the design in the final stages if its development. What is most peculiar is the notion that a feature, which has remained constant in aesthetic and use throughout the design stages, changes radically, and at such a late stage. Such late a stage that there even is not enough time to build a new model, or omit the pictures of the ‘old’ design from the publications [Fig. 2+3].

Fig.2 Original model before step design change

Fig.3 Plan as built, showing amended step design.
Contrasting positions to this question can be adopted here in an attempt to ascertain answers. Firstly, as the final realised form appears in photographs and plans, which are also shown in publications next to the ‘old’ design, then there is no harm in bringing ‘to the table’ a concept and showing its development from an embryonic stage to that of a mature and realised built form. Another perspective would see the editorial arrangement of Martin’s own studio portfolio monograph as a ‘looking glass’ into the intensions of the architects. Expanding on this, it could be argued that extravagant design elements which are retained, and in the case of the steps, amplified [the notion of a staircase is enforced in this example with the intermediate ‘terrace’ area being removed and the width of the bottom treads being reduced], speak of an idea or concept which has also been enhanced and emphasised above others.
And thus one can argue that if an element of implanted glory is to be found in the Manor Road Group, it is within the architectural elements which have shown longevity and enhancement throughout the design process. Therefore, the question to ponder is not regarding only the architecture of the steps per se, but instead their 11th hour transfiguration and its cultural implications.
Of course, it could also be argued that the physical change to the steps was a result of a programmatic shift, or an economic consideration. However, taking each of these points in turn one can assume otherwise; the final realised plans compared to those with the ‘original’ steps show no enlarging of internal area, or any other obvious functional reason for the design amendment; the long list of benefactors in the document outlining the order of events for the opening ceremony of the Library Group in 1964 displays a rich, opulent and varied mix of sources of money, from the Rockefeller Foundation to the Government of Pakistan. Clearly, money, and any lack of it, was not an issue for this project.
The relevance of the design change now alters any discussion regarding the steps and their subliminal association with the Odessa Steps. Now, the Oxford Steps, as built, cannot be taken as a case study in isolation, for their past is tainted.
As a result of making the steps width shorter, the architects also removed an intermediate open terrace area. Thus, the architects removed the last and only chance for visitors to occupy themselves with something other than the process of travelling. The notion of a linear travelling route is enforced. The short stair risers and long goings elongate the journey to the summit. The modest dark metal framed glazed doors and side windows set into a low height single storey block in each of the three entrances of the libraries speaks of a celebration of journey as apposed to a celebration of arrival. This is a journey of blind faith to the summit – blind because the summit and the entrance to the Law Library cannot be seen from the bottom of the steps.(11) Again, the concept of the elongated journey is enforced. The single cold metal handrail, with the slender and minimalist balustrading [Fig. 4], is kept distinct from the aesthetics of the steps. And it is clear that the architects wished for the image of the Steps to reside over all other secondary elements such as handrails; for such a long staircase span and stair width of over 8m, it would have been wise and proved ergonomically prudent to provide visitors with a mid-handrail which would run though the centre of the staircase, but this element clearly was not adopted as it may have distracted from the pure image of the Steps.

Fig.4 Minimalist balustrading is kept distinct from the aesthetics of the steps.
With this argument as a backdrop, any connection now made with the Oxford Steps to the Odessa Steps scene in The Battleship Potemkin is more complicated and intricate than one initially thought. Although aesthetically connected, the use of the steps and their meaning suggest differences; the Oxford Steps encourage movement upwards, whereas the Odessa Steps function as a route for humanity to flee downwards.
“The descent of the pram down the Odessa Steps is probably the most famous image in The Battleship Potemkin.”(12) In the Odessa Steps scene, the steps themselves serve the function of a terrace/pavilion, with the function of movement and descent a by-product of the raid by the ‘Cossacks’ [Fig. 5]. Movement as use of the Odessa Steps is a secondary function to that of a pavilion for the collection of humanity.(13)

Fig.5 ‘Humanity flees down the Odessa Steps’
However, the design of the Oxford Steps harks towards a function of movement and ascent as their primary use. The lack of any handrail assistance heightens the element of control any visitor must now adopt when using the steps. In opposition to this, the movement across the Odessa Steps [already argued as a secondary function] is that of uncontrolled use. The spectators in the steps flee from the Cossacks, and this movement is involuntary and mindless. The spectators have a clear destination, it is in visual range and every one of the fleeing spectators can gauge their own position with respect to their destination. As argued above, in Oxford the visitors enticed up the steps have no idea what awaits them at the summit; their destination, the highest terrace, is not in visual range, and ones own position in relation to the destination is never certain until the last moment.
The Oxford Steps are seen as a parallel to the Odessa Steps, but a mirror lies between them. Although they appear the same, their respective uses are opposite and contradicting to each other. With the Odessa Steps, “…symbolically, the spirit of the revolution has awaken…”(14), and the glory of collective human action against oppression is evoked as a thought. However, the Oxford Steps evoke the spirit of endeavour, of singular movement(15) and of blind faith to a cause [a destination], which is not known.

Fig.6 The central Law Library rises above the other library blocks.
The Oxford Steps are held in place by the monolithic blocks of the English and Statistician’s Libraries. From afar, these blocks are the most distinguishing features of the Manor Road Group, and their booming mass brings an unerring feeling of gravitas to any approach to the site. The largest library block, the Law Library, rises above others by a factor of at least two [Fig. 6], and it is this mass which brings an extra helping of the ‘monolithic’ to the proceedings. The architects have clearly symbolically elevated this piece of architecture above that of purely a building to it being a monument[al]. The horizontality of the brick course grouped into bands, together with the window treatment and details which gives the appearance that the fenestration has been ‘revealed’ only after strips of bricks have been peeled away, mimic the earth’s strata [Figs. 7+8]. This only adds to the effect of timeless monumentality and abandons the notion that the Manor Road Group is to been perceived as a building of utility and function.

Fig.7 Strips of bricks have been peeled away to reveal fenestration.

Fig.8 Brick banding mimics the earth’s strata.
Thus, the utility of this building, its use and therefore its meaning, is shared and fractured. This building is schizophrenic. It is not the first, nor will it be the last, building to have a spilt personality – it functions as a library and monument – but this is not the only, or most compelling, reason why it displays schizophrenic tendencies.
The Oxford Steps encouraging blind faith and controlled ascent lead to three entrances to monolithic blocks. Each of these entrances is modest in appearance, as described above, and are set within single storey facades. The multi-storey library complex is entered always as a point where it seems that one is entering a one-storey building [Fig. 9].

Fig.9 A single storey entrance to a multi-storey building.
All aspects of this building’s mass is compressed at the entrance to each of the three libraries. Upon entering any of the libraries, one is forced immediately into a space with an extremely low ceiling height, finished in dark painted timber. The agoraphobia of the steps is replaced by the claustrophobia of the entrance points. At this point, Wilson references his own work in his writings [through not, of course, by mentioning the Manor Road Group] by stating that it is “… uniquely the role of the masterpiece to make possible the simultaneous experience of those two polar modes; enjoyment at the same time of intense sensations of being inside and outside, of envelopment and detachment, of oneness and of separateness…”(16).
What is of note is not if this building is a masterpiece or not, but the notion that the concept of ‘in-betweenness’ is being portrayed to the visitor. The ‘stone-effect’ brick coursing in the facades of the three blocks, with the emphasis on horizontality, portray a feeling of horizontal movement and on unhindered passage across space. The eye falls upon the horizontal banding and is led along, not up or down, but along. Where the mind wanders, the body smoothly follows, but only to the propositioned with a question when arriving at each of the entrances.
As argued, this question not only has schizophrenic nuances, but is also delivered with a smirk. Should one accept the timid invitation to enter a building though an entrance which is in no way celebrating its function? It is movement around the building, and not through the building, which is being enforced as a concept. The brick bands carve a route around the building’s exterior, but not into it. The modesty of the entrance doors and the stark claustrophobia in contrast to the outside area deter a flow into the interior. The in-between space, the boundary between outside and in, is harsh. However, it only discourages a visitor to enter through the threshold - it does not discourage the visitor the experience of the interior.
The tubular steel handles to the doors are the only clues to suggest that these are actually doors which can be opened, and not just fill-height fixed glazing. The doors are stiffly sprung on self-closing devices – they are designed to stay shut. A second set of doors to the library buffer the in-between space and provide one seal to the air-lock between the exterior and the interior. When stepping into this space, it is as if one is crawling through an immensely thick external wall on a monolithic structure. The harsh atmosphere of the transitional space naturally glorifies the spaces that it separates. In effect, the dual-partite relationship between Inside and Out is transformed into a tripartite relationship of GLORIFIED MONOLITHIC – TRANSITIONAL – GLOROFIRED MONOLITHIC. There is no inside/outside space, only designed areas separated by a schizophrenic band which lies at the perimeter of the building.
The site plan, steps, building envelope and entrance points have been discussed in this essay to try to understand the glory of the Manor Road Group. The study could continue infinitely to explore every element of the building to locate glory. However, if, as mentioned in an earlier passage in this essay, the Smithson’s claim that a ‘concept should flow throughout a whole building’ be held to be true to Martin and Wilson’s work, one could also expand this to the process of ‘glory-finding’ and suggest that it would not matter if one could stop the search after examining one element, or 101 elements, as the results would be identical.
This essay has raised questions regarding the methodology of this study, as it suggests that there are many glories to be found in any building, as apposed to one glory. As such, Wittgenstein does not confirm whether a multiple of singular result is sought, just that architecture glorifies something. This further raises the question of whether Wilson was trying to implant glory within the design, or that glory is an inevitable and unavoidable by-product of architecture and it should be accepted that the architect has little control of this phenomenon. Is ‘good’ architecture that which draws together closest the two principles of the profession? Is ‘good’ architecture that which simply through aesthetics glorifies its use, carefully and succinctly?
Responses to these questions, or even the question themselves, are difficult for the Architect to grasp amid a backdrop of use, aesthetic, cost control, structure, engineering, client requirements, and time deadlines. If Wilson was trying to impart glory into the Manor Road Group, it is understandable if it may have become diluted or deformed from the original concept. Further, Wilson may have lost understanding and control of his ideals, and although the form of the building may have largely remained constant across the design process, the concept may have become lost to the point where it became unrecognisable from the original intension. Does this lead to a reason why Wilson remained silent over the Manor Road Group? Did Wilson fail to fully comprehend the concept and ideals of his design, and turn once again to Wittgenstein for direction? Wittgenstein claims that “…what can be said at all can be said clearly; what we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence”(17).
Does this quote, Wilson’s allegiance to Wittgenstein, and Wilson’s silence suggest that the Architect found the Manor Road Group of Buildings ultimately conceptually incomprehensible, and a collection of convoluted glories overlapping to result in an building language which cannot be spoken of clearly? Has Wilson delivered his own damning critique of his building, without uttering a word?