Save our Clandon
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Chris Griffiths, heritage consultant at HCUK, told a symposium presented by the Traditional Architecture Group
25/06/25
Chris Griffiths, heritage consultant at HCUK, told a symposium presented by the Traditional Architecture Group why the National Trust’s proposals to leave Clandon House as a burnt-out shell make no sense.
It is a real honour to be speaking at the Art Workers Guild, an institution I greatly admire, about Clandon Park, a building which has long held a deep fascination for me. I first visited Clandon when I was studying the rise of Palladianism in Britain during my A-levels back in 1995. I found it something of an enigma because of its hybrid character and unclear antecedents. Its quasi-Baroque interior and austere brick shell did not strike me at first as a bone fide Palladian mansion. A masterpiece, certainly, but something of an outlier or sui generis as country houses go. At the time I did not appreciate that Clandon’s roguish defiance of categorisation conferred greater value rather than less. But in 1995 I quietly moved on to the main subject of my research which was Kedleston Hall, an altogether much more straightforward building.
Unfortunately, the opportunity for closer study of the magnificent interior at Clandon did not arise until after the fire had destroyed much of it. However, the strength of the record and the body of work undertaken by others (including John Cornforth, Sophie Chessum and Christine Casey) meant that a forensic examination of the historic fabric remained very much a possibility after the fire. This is an important point, and my study was done in the context of compiling a detailed heritage report on behalf of Restore Trust in support of an objection to the National Trust’s proposed scheme of consolidated re-imagining very much ‘in a style of our time’.
Clandon is a building which certainly rewards closer examination, and in endeavouring to better understand the building’s significance to fully appreciate the impact of the intended refurbishment, one cannot but become intimately aware of Clandon’s seminal importance in the pantheon of British architectural history. The building speaks eloquently of the influence of Palladianism in the shaping of country house architecture in England. The cultural importance of Clandon to art and architecture in a wider context is emphatic, and its capacity to enrich the human experience both individually and collectively is undeniable.
I will confess, it took little persuading for me to conclude that restoring Clandon Park to its pre-fire state remains much the better option from every objective measure, quite apart from any personal preference, not least in relation to heritage and public benefits from a planning perspective. The question of whether or not to restore a building like Clandon should, I believe, come down to gauging which outcome serves to enrich, ennoble, and restore the human person the most – thereby benefitting society more at both the individual level and as a diverse multitude. This should be a holistic exercise with reference to objective and measurable criteria, including what people genuinely value.
If art work has a value it is precisely its capacity to lift one out of the mundane concerns of the material realm, from the bounds of what may at times seem like a humdrum existence, to see that there is indeed something beyond and greater than oneself. From my experience at least, the fine Arts reconnect us with the metaphysical – the spiritual side of human nature and in doing so are able to provide a clear sense of purpose and meaning, uniting the intellect and will in the pursuit of what is good, true and beautiful. This is a noble aim and something which we do well as a society to encourage whenever possible.
Now, I do not doubt that retaining what remains of Clandon as an emaciated carcass can yield valuable insights into the life and practice of a bricklayer in the early 18th century. The austere brick shell could provide opportunities to hear about the travails of a housekeeper or under-butler in 1800, done by way of some innovative interactive display or use of AI, but essentially leaving a lot to the imagination. This is a valid perspective and there is of course an admirable honesty in presenting what the fire has destructively bequeathed to generate something interesting out of a tragic event. However, my main point is that since it is entirely possible to recreate the glorious interiors of Clandon Park based on what we do know, and with the skills at our disposal to make it a reality, is it not incumbent on us as custodians to preserve, celebrate and pass on to future generations the best of what we have inherited, adding to it and improving on it if we can? Indeed there is an opportunity to put right what Artari got wrong with the lower limbs of Hercules and Omphale, and recreate the amazingly complex concealed roof structure of Leoni’s original house. Restoration brings with it very considerable opportunities for enhancement. The irony is that these opportunities would not have existed but for the fire.
In recognising Clandon’s overarching significance down the centuries, I am of course appealing to the common sense that underpins the entire heritage protection system, something which is ordered hierarchically according to the level of human ingenuity, skill and in a word ‘love’ that went into its creation. Thus, the bare masonry walls studded with occasional fragments of damaged ornamental plasterwork, though interesting, do not convey the same level of special interest, artistic value or cultural meaning as a meticulously planned and sumptuously executed interior, be it authentic work of 1729 or a recreation of it. Indeed, the relationship of one room to another and the importance of each part to the whole as a complete work of art, is fundamental to Clandon’s exceptional heritage value. Thus, I would say the argument for restoring Clandon tends to make itself, it is simply too important not to restore, and in that sense I would say the case is unassailable.
While of course there remains something significant about Clandon in its post-fire state, even allowing for the most Hegelian of interpretations, one cannot in any meaningful sense say that its post fire significance is greater than, or presents an insuperable barrier to recovering, its pre-fire significance. If this were true, the best thing one could do to a listed building would be to burn it down, which is of course certified nonsense. The same argument applies in the case of Notre Dame, Windsor Castle, Hampton Court, Castle Howard and Uppark. Fortunately, none of these great buildings is now characterized by an emphasis on functional design, geometric forms, abstract volumes which are at best incidental, and a rejection of ornamentation. Instead something like the original beauty, glorious workmanship and crafted excellence of those places has been successfully recaptured, yielding a new patrimony for the benefit of you and I and future generations.
My difficulty with a re-imagining of Clandon through the prism of a version of Modernism that now seems fairly old fashioned, packaged up with a revisionist look at history (merely one more perspective but not necessarily any more ‘true’), is the danger that experience becomes atomised into a myriad of interpretations about what is now significant. This seems more likely to confuse than to edify and vitiate the building’s innate potential as a work of art to converse with the soul, to elevate it without gimmickry or the intermediary of ‘interpretation’, towards those higher things I spoke about earlier. There is therefore a tendency to deconstruct rather than celebrate, based on a preoccupation with the lower echelons of significance which owes more to nihilism than a desire to preserve and enhance. This strikes me as both an unfortunate and unfitting legacy for Clandon Park.
The proposed scheme, taken at face value, is predicated on a need to abandon preconceptions at the door, to willingly suspend one’s disbelief, such that if you look at it in a prescribed new way, it’s not just bricks and space, it’s actually telling us something about Clandon we previously never appreciated, and could never have known about were it not for the fire. Ironically, my personal approach to how the building could be restored, does precisely this, as noted earlier. But I am doubtful about what the proposed interpretation of Clandon as a ruin is able to reveal about the building, shorn of its intended finery. There is something almost neo-gnostic about the proposal; namely that one cannot really begin to understand the nuance of the building’s post-fire significance without having first acquired some kind of hidden knowledge or insight revealed by the fire. The building no longer speaks for itself, but depends almost entirely on the fire, like a crutch, to be fully understood. Such emphasis on an innocuous and entirely avoidable tragedy tends to elevate what should be a mere footnote in the building’s history to a place far above what is warranted by any objective measure. The hierarchy of timeless values that imbue Clandon Park is thus upended, arguably to the detriment of what is most valuable.
There is novelty in this approach, if only because this hasn’t been done before at Clandon, but in the long term I think the Proposed scheme presents more challenges than solutions to the question of securing Clandon’s long term future. If success is measured by the desire to linger and enjoy a place to the extent that one simply has to return for more, a ruined Clandon offers little compared to what it previously offered. To say nothing of its suitability as a once very popular wedding venue. One has to be realistic. This is not because people are not sufficiently sophisticated to ‘get’ what the National Trust are attempting to achieve at Clandon Park. The yardstick for this assessment is my own experience based on a considerable amount of research and detailed study.
I could be wrong of course and perhaps I am just the proverbial naysayer, unsophisticated in my old school approach to restoration in this case. However, I am genuinely struggling to see the Emperor’s new clothes on this occasion. The plain matter of fact that only a great work of art can convey will be conspicuously absent in this new incarnation of Clandon. The joy and delight that accompanies a celebration of human endeavour, patrimony and artistic excellence give way to feelings of dismay and indifference. While there might be a lofty ideal behind the proposed plans, the fact is the old house was much better in every sense, more relatable, much more successful in satisfying the irrepressible human need for what is good, true and beautiful. As the experience of Uppark ably demonstrates, pre-fire significance can be recovered and as such there is no good reason not to do this at Clandon Park, and indeed every good reason to do it.
The beautiful 18th century gates at Merrow are inscribed with the Onslow family motto ‘semper fidelis’. I believe those entrusted with the care of special places, should be faithful to what animates these places and gives them their stamp of originality. Clandon’s specialness is undoubtedly its remarkable interiors concealed within an elegant brick box. Instead of re-imagining it as a distinctly less special place, why not do something remarkable again and bequeath the next generation a legacy that will truly stand the test of time?