Constructions of Ideology
An investigation in the shared motivations behind Thomas Jefferson’s
Monticello and the University of Virginia
A product of William R. Kenan Endowment Fund of the Academical Village
Danielle S. Willkens
14 November 2008
“On the whole I find nothing any where else in point of
climate which Virginia need envy to any part of the world
. . . spring and autumn, which make a paradise of our
country. . . we have reason to value highly the accident of
birth in such an one as that of Virginia.”
Jefferson to Martha Jefferson Randolph, 1791
Introduction
Although Monticello and the University of Virginia
share a unique place together on the United
Nations Economic, Social and Cultural Organization
(UNESCO) World Heritage List, these two projects
are rarely discussed in concert. Jefferson’s Monticello
is viewed as his mountaintop retreat, the ‘essay
in architecture’ that took nearly half of his life to
design and build. The University rests in the valley,
visible from the North Terrace of Monticello, as
Jefferson’s ‘hobby of old age’ and lasting bequest of
the importance of public education. In the cultivated
legacy of Jefferson at the University we rarely discuss
what lessons were learned from the design and
construction of Monticello, what worker’s hands
touched the brick and stone at both sites, and how
sectional similarities pervade the landscaped design
of each place. At the University our understanding of
Jefferson on grounds during design and construction
is substantial yet we do not fully comprehend what
place students had at his home nor how Jefferson’s
family perceived his shared parental responsibility
as ‘father’ to the University.
Thomas Jefferson is an iconic figure of the American
Enlightenment. He was multifaceted: a statesman
that always considered himself a farmer and a
nation-builder that constructed both written and
physical monuments to edify the United States. The
home and self-titled hobby projects of Jefferson
are phenomenally illustrative of his educational,
aesthetic and social ideas through their contained
programs and built spaces. The goals of this essay
are to discuss the connections and contradictions
between Monticello and the University of Virginia
that make the two built projects premier examples
of Jefferson’s aesthetic and didactic theories,
worthy of the selective UNESCO title of ‘universally
significant’.
Left. Tadeusz Kosciuszko aquatint of Thomas Jefferson, before
1817.
UNESCO World Heritage Sites
In 1987 Jefferson’s Monticello and the University
of Virginia were elevated to abiding international
prestige when they were inscribed to the United
Nations World Heritage List under the title of the
Thomas Jefferson Thematic Nomination.1 The
World Heritage List is under the jurisdiction of
the UNESCO. World Heritage sites are annually
selected by an international committee based upon
the satisfaction of at least one of the ten codified
selection criteria. Six of these criteria are cultural
and four are natural.2 The committee inscribed the
first sites to the list in 1978 and currently there are
878 sites recognized; 679 are listed as cultural, 194
as natural and 25 as mixed. The United States holds
20 properties on the list, 12 cultural and 8 natural.
This list is not simply a written database of natural
and constructed international wonders; it solidifies
the universal symbol of the place and assures
protection and preservation. UNESCO maintains a
‘List in Danger’ of international properties in need of
immediate assistance and due to the mission of the
World Heritage Committee, many of the properties
that once made an appearance on the List in Danger
have been successfully preserved for posterity. The
importance of the joint inscription of Monticello and
the University is underscored when one examines
some of the other sites that matriculated in 1987:
the Great Wall of China, the Acropolis, Teotihuacan,
the City of Bath, and Hadrian’s Wall. 3
Under UNESCO requirements, every nomination to
the World Heritage List must be submitted through
the host country. In the United States all submissions
go through the National Park Service, an agency
of the Department of the Interior.4 The Jefferson
Nomination as submitted to UNESCO stressed
the importance of both sites as experiments in
architecture: Monticello as a personal laboratory
for Jefferson’s aesthetic ideas and the University as
a unique community of scholars. Both sites display
Jefferson’s command of composition and proportion
in relation to neoclassical architecture; however,
both sites also show a clear evolution in Jefferson’s
abilities as an architect. Jefferson’s initial, tentative
moves at Monticello were replaced with inventive,
even if sometimes problematic, design solutions
over the more than forty years of construction.
The University shows the adaptation of the temple
typology in both strict and whimsical manners,
clearly displaying an architect that understood
the rules of classicism and could break them for
successful adaptations. As noted in the submission,
“Jefferson joined in this [classical] revivalist spirit as
no other American did before him.”5 Additionally, the
nomination highlighted the representative nature of
Jefferson’s architecture in relation to concepts of the
Enlightenment such as education, self-determination
and the reevaluation of beauty and order. Based
upon the aforementioned elements detailed in the
Jefferson Nomination, the International Council on
Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS) selected Monticello
and the University of Virginia for the World Heritage
List based upon the satisfaction of three UNSECO
criteria:
I.
unique artistic achievement
IV.
outstanding example of a specific
architectural movement
VI.
example of the built environment
tangibly associated with beliefs of
universal significance6
Although the Jefferson Nomination as a report is
an intriguing, nationally-produced document about
the two sites, the ICOMOS recommendation for
inscription provides a succinct argument for the
significance of both sites from an international
perspective.7 The report gives unique insight on
the purview of the World Heritage List in the first
sentence, “a request to include the University of
Virginia on the World Heritage List has long been
awaited.”8 Jefferson’s university, not his home, was
the premier site according to the recommendation
of ICOMOS. The report goes on to state that it was
interesting and complimentary for the United States
to put forth the two sites as a thematic nomination.
Both sites are praised for their integration of built
program into the natural landscape, the originality
of design and the exemplary nature of neoclassical
proportions and aesthetics. The recommendation
described both projects as successful bridges between
the architecture of utopian organization and the
constraints of built reality; a theoretical connection
similar to the ‘expression of the American mind’
in the Declaration of Independence.9 Clearly, the
ICOMOS viewed an inherent duality in significance
of Monticello and the University of Virginia between
the architectural program and visual expression.
This connection is edified by the comparison of
Jefferson’s projects to the Royal Saltworks of Chaux
by Claude- Nicolas Ledoux, a project inscribed to the
World Heritage List in 1982.10 As a site, the Saltworks
was a unique amalgamation of Enlightenment
ideas: rational social order, neoclassical adaptation,
architecture parlante and industrial productivity.11
Similar to the Saltworks, the agricultural, educational
and social programs of Monticello and the University
of Virginia seamlessly blend into the architecture.
At both projects, the architecture is not simply
shelter but rather a conducive vessel for ideals and
experimentations.
Currently the Thomas Jefferson Thematic Nomination
holds several unique characteristics on the World
Heritage List: Monticello is the only recognized
private residence in America and the University is
the only recognized American university. Only a small
number of architects have more than one project on
the list; Jefferson occupies this selective group in
the company of Andrea Palladio, Victor Horta, and
members of the Bauhaus.12 On January 30, 2008
two additional built projects by Thomas Jefferson
were submitted to the Tentative List: Jefferson’s
plantation retreat named Poplar Forest in Bedford
County, Virginia and the Virginia State Capitol in
Richmond. If selected, these sites would be listed as
extensions of the current Thomas Jefferson Thematic
Nomination. Given Jefferson’s contemporary stature
as a groundbreaking American architect and his
elevated status as an architect of a World Heritage
Site, it is difficult to remember that until 1916
Jefferson was known merely as an architectural
hobbyist, a statesman with a strong interest in the
arts that also served as a patron.13
One key element not fully addressed by either
the Jefferson Nomination or subsequent ICOMOS
report is Jefferson’s multifaceted status as nation
builder. Unlike any other architects named on the
World Heritage List, Jefferson helped to literally
construct the nation through his appointed and
elected governmental service, written documents
and revolutionary architecture for public and private
edifices. Jefferson was a self-trained architect
but is deserving of a more deferential term than
‘gentleman architect.’ His projects were not the result
of a mere subsidiary interest in architecture. Most
of Jefferson’s designs were physical constructions
of many of his ideological principles for the new
nation.14 One of the strongest motivations behind
Jefferson’s architectural endeavors was the quest
for education: buildings were physical teaching tools
and could be dwellings specifically designed for
educational programs.
“A system of general instruction, which shall reach every description of our citizens from the
richest to the poorest, as it was the earliest, so will it be the latest of all the public concerns in
which I shall permit myself to take an interest.”
-Jefferson to Joseph Cabell, 1818
A Vision for Education
The Age of the Enlightenment was a philosophical
movement that questioned conventions, morals
and religion. Largely centered in France, England
and Germany the movement later spread through
Europe and eventually crossed the Atlantic. The act
of becoming enlightened was derived from reading,
writing, corresponding, conversing, listening to
music and looking at pictures. Therefore, the
endeavor was partially a sociable act and partially an
act of individual study.15 The movement encouraged
education through discourse and introspection, or
as John Locke stated, “a talk with one’s self.”16 The
Janus-faced methodology of enlightenment, public
and private, was directly related to shifts in built
space. Under the patronage of the Enlightenment the
museum and library became prevalent architectural
programs. Until the Enlightenment, most structurally
innovative, ornate and spatially awe-inspiring works
of architecture were either sacred spaces or projects
sponsored by empires. Architects of the Enlightenment
challenged the precedent of architectural hierarchies
and introduced inspirational spaces intended for
non-secular, public use. For example, the British
Museum, opened in 1759, was the first purposebuilt national museum opened to the public.
Architecture in the private realm also evolved during
the Enlightenment: French architects of the mideighteenth century like Étienne-Louis Boullée and
Nicolas-Claude Ledoux penned innovative designs
for the cooper, surveyor and industrial worker.
Suddenly, spaces designed by trained architects were
not solely reserved for wealthy aristocrats. As for
the architecture of introspection, libraries became
more common outside of the secular world. Quiet
study was no longer reserved for the cloistered as
it was in the age of humanism and for the first time
silent reading, as opposed to reading aloud among
a group, was prevalent.17 Public structures like the
British Museum opened magnificent reading rooms
and libraries became part of the programmatic
language of private residences. At Monticello and
the University of Virginia, Jefferson tackled the
Enlightenment architectural programs of the library
and museum. The architecture of these educational
spaces will be discussed later in this essay.
Previous page: Joseph Wright, A Philosopher Giving that Lecture
on the Orrery, 1766.
Left: Étienne-Louis Boullée, Bibliotheque Nationale, c.1775.
Right: Étienne-Louis Boullée, Newton’s Cenotaph, c. 1774.
American Enlightenment
The questioning of core values and assumed
knowledge of the world clearly impacted the social
and economic rationales of the Founding Fathers
and outspoken patriots of the American Revolution.
The Old World initiated the Enlightenment by their
invention, theoretical formulations and overall
agitation of conventions but it can be argued that
it was only the New World that saw many of the
true principles of the Enlightenment come into
fruition.18 The Enlightenment of America was fueled
by activism. It was led by farmers, tradesmen, and
lawyers, not by monarchs or philosophers. Although
America questioned the position of the common
man more than the scholars across the Atlantic, the
democratic ambitions of the American Enlightenment
will always be tarnished with the realities of racial
and gender boundaries.19 With regard to the Age
of Enlightenment, Jefferson is a representative
character in America. He was statesman, scientist,
builder, botanist and reader while perpetuating his
nation’s imperfect democracy through the ownership
of more than 600 slaves during his lifetime.
The presence of slavery, as well as the ruinous
condition of many areas in the nation following
the Revolutionary War, led to the ‘skeptical’
Enlightenment in America.20 Even Jefferson was
victim to the disparagement. In letters, he wrote of a
thankless nation that did not recognize the sacrifices
of its citizens in the pursuit of liberty and one that
was divided on the issue of slavery. Jefferson’s
frustrations were clearly expressed in a letter to
Colonel Monroe in 1885:
education began during his tenure as Governor of
Virginia.
My God! how little do my countrymen
know what precious blessings they are in
possession of, and which no other people on
earth enjoy…come, then, and see the proofs
of this, and on your return add you testimony
to that of every thinking American, in order
to satisfy our countrymen how much it
is their interest to preserve, uninfected
by contagion, those peculiarities in their
government and manners, to which they are
indebted for those blessings…21
Fortunately, Jefferson’s dissatisfaction fueled his
desire for change. Like many of his countrymen,
Jefferson viewed education as the essential conduit,
“if the condition of man is to be progressively
ameliorated, as we fondly hope and believe,
education is to be the chief instrument in effecting
it.”22 Although further inspired by the post- War
conditions in America, Jefferson’s campaign for public
Left: Charles Willson Peale, The Artist in His Museum, 1822.
Quest for Public Education
Most of the Founding Fathers were educators;
however, Jefferson left the strongest record of
devotion to the education of the public through
his governmental agendas and private advocacy.23
Jefferson’s own educational background included
private tutors and college instruction granted by
his privileged family condition.24 Jefferson’s system
for public education in Virginia was intended to be
a solution for the problems he experienced and
those he would habitually criticize in the realm of
private education: only the wealthy were given the
opportunity for education, there was a general lack
of regulation or universal assessment, there was a
closed concept of epistemology that discouraged
non-traditional learners and the system fostered a
distinct sense of provincialism.25 Jefferson did not
envision the future of Virginia’s intellectual circle, or
arguably that of the nation, as one solely reserved for
the privileged. Jefferson believed people were the
guardians of their own liberty, “enlighten the people
generally, and tyranny and oppressions of body and
mind will vanish like spirits at the dawn of day.”26
Instead of nurturing an aristocracy of wealth and
familial connections, Jefferson championed for an
“aristocracy of the mind”.27 For Jefferson social class
did not define academic potential. Throughout his
life, Jefferson underscored the difference between
the artificial aristocracy, which derived from wealth
and birth right, and natural aristocracy which was
defined by virtue and talent.28
Jefferson began his lifelong fight for public education
in 1778 with his Bill for the More General Diffusion of
Knowledge. The three bills presented to the Virginia
General Assembly outlined a comprehensive plan for
education in Virginia. Under the bills, Virginia would
be divided into regions of ‘hundreds’ where each unit
had a local elementary school. 29 All children would
be educated free of charge by the state for three
years in reading, writing, arithmetic, geography and
history. Students who could not afford to continue
to general schools would enter a tradesmen track
beginning with apprenticeship. A select number of
financially challenged students would be “raked from
the rubbish annually” and given the opportunity to
attend general schools under the sponsorship of the
state. From general schools, students may “retire to
the land or politics” or continue on to professional
schools where competitive scholarships would
still be made available to the most talented of the
impoverished students. In this complex, multi-tiered
system of education Jefferson envisioned a state
where all citizens would be literate and educated
in the most basic principles, wealth did not define
academic opportunity when promise was shown
on the part of the student and diverse talents
were recognized by the broadened definitions of
knowledge and skill. The bills were initially defeated
in 1779 and did not have any greater success upon
their reintroduction in June of 1780.
As one of the first Americans to lay out a plan for
public education, Jefferson called for a rigorous series
of tests for advancement. His plan also illustrated his
broad, Enlightenment-inspired sense of knowledge.30
The multiple-tiered system of Jefferson’s plan could
easily be described today as one that incorporates
the theory of multiple-intelligences. In Jefferson’s
plan, the ‘aristocracy of the mind’ referred to
professionals, craftsmen, technicians and academic
scholars alike. Jefferson also called for secular
education that taught less about morals and focused
more on instilling students with an understanding of
the global intellectual community. Under the Bill for
the More General Diffusion of Knowledge it is clear
that Jefferson wanted to raise a commonwealth
prepared to actively engage both the nation and
global community in discourse.
Left: author’s diagram of Jefferson’s education plan.
Jefferson’s Notes on Virginia, his only published book,
also outlined his ideas for education in his native
state. The text was written after Jefferson’s bills
but show that the defeat of the bills in the General
Assembly did little to alter Jefferson’s adamant
support of public education.31 Jefferson discussed
the importance of education for all children in
Virginia in the areas of “reading, writing, and
common arithmetic”, he stressed the importance of
universities and discouraged the instruction of the
Bible in favor of the “most useful facts” from the
ancient Greeks and Romans as well as the history of
Europe and America.32 Jefferson also commented in
Notes on the importance of a national endowment
for the establishment of public libraries and art
galleries.33 Erudition was not merely for the schoolaged.
Today nearly ninety percent of children in America
attend public schools where religious instruction is
prohibited.34 Merit –based scholarships exist at public
universities around the nation; at the University
of Virginia some of those select students are aptly
named Jefferson Scholars. Even in contemporary
society, the contents of Jefferson’s bills for public
education would be met with opposition. Jefferson’s
plan revolved around two concepts still in debate
in the public school system: equity and equality.
Similar to contemporary educational policy,
Jefferson struggled with the ownership of education
in the government. Like many of Jefferson’s ideas,
his argument proposed contradictory elements:
Jefferson wanted decentralized, locally-run schools
that conformed to federal standards, were subject to
national recruitment and reflected the architecture
of the Republic.35
Left: Étienne-Louis Boullée, Design for a Metropolitan Church,
1781-2.
Next page: Plate of the Pantheon from Leoni’s Palladio.
“I am an enthusiast on the subject of the arts. But it is an enthusiasm of which I am not ashamed, as its
object is to improve the taste of my countrymen, to increase their reputation, to reconcile to them the
respect of the world, and procure them its praise.”
Jefferson to James Madison, 1785
The Architecture of Education
Jefferson was an outspoken advocate for the
elevation of architecture in America. Much like his
European contemporaries of the Enlightenment,
Jefferson viewed architecture as more than shelter
from the elements. Built space could be inspirational,
unifying and a symbol of national values and
identity. In Notes, Jefferson commented on the lack
of true architecture in America. His descriptions
went far beyond that of a displeased inhabitant
and displayed his studied knowledge of design and
construction. Jefferson reflected on not just the
deficient aesthetics of American buildings but also
the problems of function, differentiation of public
and private structures, cost, materiality, connection
to the surrounding landscape, spatial experience
and the life cycle of buildings. The following passage
clearly displays Jefferson’s distaste:
The private buildings are very rarely
constructed of stone or brick, much of the
greatest portion being of scantling and
boards, plastered with lime. It is impossible
to devise things more ugly, uncomfortable,
and happily more perishable. There are two
or three plans, on one of which, according
to its size, most of the houses in the State
are built. The poorest people build huts of
logs, laid horizontally in pens, stopping the
interstices with mud. These are warmer in
the winter, and cooler in the summer, than
the more expensive construction of scantling
and plank…the only public buildings worthy
of mention are the capitol, the palace, the
college, and the hospital for lunatics, all of
them in Williamsburg, heretofore the seat
of our government. The capitol is a light
and airy structure, with a portico in front
of two orders, the lower of which, being
Doric, is tolerably just in its proportions
and ornaments, save only that the
intercolonations36 are too large. The upper
is Ionic, much too small for that on which it
is mounted, its ornaments not proper to the
order, nor proportioned within themselves.
It is crowned with a pediment, which is too
high for its span. Yet, on the whole it is the
most pleasing piece of architecture we have.
The palace is not handsome without, but it is
spacious and commodious within, is prettily
situated, and with the grounds annexed
to it, is capable of being made an elegant
seat. The college and hospital are rude,
misshapen piles, which, but that they have
roofs, would be taken for brick-kilns. There
are no other public buildings but churches
and courthouses, in which no attempts are
made at elegance.37
Although Jefferson criticized the architecture of his
native state, he acknowledged the reasons for the
architectural inferiority:
Indeed it would not be easy to execute such
an attempt, as a workman could scarcely
be found capable of drawing an order. The
genius of architecture seems to have shed
its maledictions over this land. Buildings are
often erected, by individuals, of considerable
expence. To give these symmetry and taste
would not increase their cost. It would only
change the arrangement of the materials,
the form and combination of the members.
This would often cost less than the burthen
of barbarous ornaments with which these
buildings are sometimes charged. But the
first principles of the art are unknown,
and there exists scarcely a model among
us sufficiently chaste to give an idea of
them. Architecture being one of the fine
arts, and as such within the department
of a professor of the college, according
to the new arrangement, perhaps a spark
may fall on some young subjects of natural
taste, kindle up their genius, and produce a
reformation in this elegant and useful art…
A country whose buildings are of wood, can
never increase in its improvements to any
considerable degree. Their duration is highly
estimated at 50 years. Every half century
then our country becomes a tabula rasa,
whereon we have to set out anew, as in the
first moment of seating it. Whereas when
buildings are of durable materials, every
new edifice is an actual and permanent
acquisition to the state, adding to its value
as well as to its ornament. 38
Jefferson’s harsh condemnation of his nation’s
architecture could be viewed as inspiration for his
own architectural career: Jefferson saw no models of
design in his own nation so he sought to be a literal
nation builder. It is still important to stress, however,
that Jefferson’s Notes was largely written and edited
prior to his departure to serve as Minister to France.
His distaste in American architecture was not initiated
by his European experience. Nonetheless, his travels
developed his mission of codifying appropriate
architecture for America. Jefferson began his first
large architectural project while still abroad and
upon his return from France he was engaged in
multiple architectural projects, many of which had
an educational program.
The First Models
In eighteenth century Virginia, there were four
ways of understanding architecture: pattern books,
self- initiated travel, apprenticeship, and previous
experience from abroad.39 Jefferson only knew the
architecture of books and poor models that were
constructed in colonial and Georgian America.
However, in 1784 this would all change when
Jefferson’s eyes were experientially introduced to
the world of European architecture, “how is a taste
in this beautiful art to be formed in our countrymen
unless we avail ourselves of every occasion when
public buildings are to be erected, of presenting
to them models for their study and imitation?”40
Jefferson saw how buildings could truly affect
society. While in Europe Jefferson met key figures of
the Enlightenment, saw architecture of the ancients,
watched the construction of new architectural
innovations and met contemporary designers. France
was enlivened with the architectural explorations of
Étienne-Louis Boulée and Nicolas-Claude Ledoux, two
key figures that Jefferson most likely met while at the
French court.41 Additionally, Jefferson spent fifteen
weeks visiting various towns and sites in France and
northern Italy; his journeys were extended a year
later to encompass Amsterdam, parts of Germany
and the Netherlands.42 Despite Jefferson’s fevered
travels throughout Europe he never traveled to the
Veneto to see the works of Palladio in person, nor
made it to Rome to see the work of the ancients.43
Nonetheless, Jefferson was able to see classical
design in France, “here I am gazing whole hours at the
Maison quarrée [Carrée], like a lover at his mistress.”44
The pseudoperipteral hexastyle temple then-turned
church was constructed by Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa
from 19-16 BC. While Jefferson was in France he was
approached to design the Virginia State Capitol and
quickly took the opportunity to introduce his fellow
Americans to the classical designs that had attracted
his architectural attention:
We took for our model what is called the
Maison quarrée of Nismes, one of the most
beautiful, if not the most beautiful and
precious morsel of architecture left us by
antiquity…it is very simple, but it is noble
beyond expression, and would have done
honor to our country, as presenting to
travelers a specimen of taste in our infancy,
promising much for our maturer age.45
intriguing design moves within the entire structure;
the architecture of spaces for education was not a
Spartan area to receive collections and be conducive
to study. The spaces themselves were of an elevated
and inspired design character.
Here, Jefferson displayed his belief that architecture
could elevate the culture and international reputation
of a nation. To Jefferson, buildings were functional
and poetic, optimistic and educational.
The idea of a building as a teaching tool was also
applied to Jefferson’s home Monticello. After his
return from France Jefferson began a dramatic
remodeling project for the home Unlike the Virginia
State Capitol that was intended to be a model for
the nation, Jefferson used Monticello as his own full
scale study model. The mountaintop retreat served
as a literal drawing board for Jefferson to test his
own architectural ideas. Additionally, elements
of Monticello’s program displayed Jefferson’s
interest in a strong educational agenda in his
home: Monticello contains one of the first private
museums in America as well as a series of rooms
dedicated to the occupations of reading, writing,
drawing, experimentation and quiet study. Both the
museum and the private apartment at Monticello
are composed of some of the most innovative and
Right (top): Maison Carrée.
Right: Jefferson’s Virginia State Capitol.
Breaking Ground on Public Education
Much like a modern architect, Jefferson served
a variety of roles as an institutional architect
ranging from consultant to project architect to
building manager. For example, he was a advisor
for the Trustees of East Tennessee College on the
construction of a new university. His letter to the
Trustees provided a concise description of his
education theories and design ideas for institutional
architecture:
No one more sincerely wishes the spread
of information among mankind than I do,
and none has greater confidence in its
effect towards supporting free and good
government…I consider the common plan
followed in this country, but not in others,
of making one large and expensive building,
as unfortunately erroneous. It is infinitively
better to erect a small and separate lodge
for each spate professorship, with only a
hall below for his class, and two chambers
above for himself; joining these lodges by
barracks for a certain portion of the students
opening into a covered way to give a dry
communication between all the schools.
The whole of these arranged around an
open square of grass an trees, would make
it, what it should be in fact, an academical
village.46
The ‘academical village’ was one of Jefferson’s
pioneering ideas in American institutional
architecture. The scheme of combined classroom
spaces and professorial accommodations, adjacent
to student quarters and concentrated around a large
contained greenscape is reminiscent of Roman town
design, elements in the villa urbana like the soldier’s
quarters of Hadrian’s Villa and the hierarchical
pastoral arrangement of the colleges of Oxbridge.47
Five years prior to Jefferson’s letter to the Trustees,
Jefferson about a “University on a liberal plan” in
Virginia,
A plain small house for the school & lodging
of each professor is best. These connected
by covered ways out of which the rooms of
the students should open would be best.
These may then be built only as they shall
be wanting. In fact an University should not
be a house but a village.48
Given the early date of this letter, 1805, one must
wonder when Jefferson began envisioning his master
plan for an academical village.
Only four years after his letter to the Trustees of
East Tennessee College, Jefferson helped to charter
and design Albemarle Academy in a manner similar
to the design stipulated in the aforementioned
letters. A sketch for the Academy from 1814 is
the first known graphic illustration of Jefferson’s
Academical Village. Throughout Jefferson’s fight
for public education in Virginia, the importance of
design in the educational spaces was emphasized.. A
revision of Jefferson’s 1778 Bill for the More General
Diffusion of Knowledge was presented on October
24, 1817. In the document Jefferson described the
potential for Central College to be transitioned into
a state university specifically named the University
of Virginia. This suggestion marked an important
transition in Jefferson’s architectural program. Prior
to the bill of 1817, Jefferson seemed content with a
modification to William & Mary in order to transform
the building into the central institution of the state.
However, as Jefferson’s educational aspiration grew
so did his architectural requirements. Instead of
working with an existing, and flawed structure as
discussed in Notes, Jefferson wanted a tabula rasa.
Clearly, his experiment in educational organization
was also intended to be an experiment in design.
In the 1817 bill, Jefferson described the specific
architecture of Virginia’s future colleges:
On each of the sites so located shall be
erected one or more substantial buildings
the walls of which shall be of brick or stone,
with 2. schoolrooms & 4. rooms for the
accomodation of the Professors, and with
16. dormitories in or adja cent to the same,
each sufficient for 2. pupils, and in which no
more than two shall be permitted to lodge,
with a fire place in each, & the whole in a
comfortable & decent style suitable to their
purpose.49
The above description contains two specifics
elements: consistency of design language and a
subtle reference to classical design. From 1805
and on, whenever Jefferson described his ideas for
institutional architecture, he referred to the idea
of a centralized structure combining classrooms
and professorial lodging adjacent to student
accommodation. The simplistic, but unique design
provided for infinite expansion while maintaining
a unified whole unlike the haphazard additions of
individualistic structures that dot the landscapes
of today’s universities. The phrase ‘comfortable &
decent style suitable to their purpose’ is directly
related to the three requisites of architecture as
listed by Vitruvius in his ten books of architecture,
De architectura.50 Within the text, Vitruvius asserts
that the three most important elements of a building
are firmitas, utilitas, venustas: strength or durability,
usefulness, and beauty.51 Through the simple phrase
‘comfortable & decent style suitable to their purpose’
Jefferson set up a legal framework for the buildings
of Virginia’s colleges, and eventually his University,
to be models of neoclassical design.
Jefferson continued to press for educational
legislation as it related to built projects and would
eventually serve as the ultimate project architect for
his state’s first public university. Jefferson pursued
these all these tasks after the chaos of his final twenty
years of formal governmental service. Jefferson’s
tireless devotion to the architecture of education,
in reference to both built space and the formulation
of school systems, is best understood through the
difficult process of creating the University of Virginia.
Even after the charter for Central College was passed
in 1816, Jefferson had to continually justify his
educational scheme, its architectural design and the
resulting expense. In order to further his mission,
Jefferson took on the difficult task of agent for the
University, “the University of Virginia is the last
object for which I shall obtrude myself on the public
observation.”52 Jefferson advertised the University in
manners that that had not been used in any of his
other governmental or educational efforts. Jefferson
even wrote an anonymous letter as a traveler from
the Warm Springs to the Richmond Enquirer praising
the design of then Central College:
I rode to the grounds and was much pleased
with their commanding position & prospect.
a small mountain adjacent is included in
their purchase, & contemplated as a site
for an astronomical observatory, and a very
remarkable one it will certainly be …besides
the Observatory and building grounds, will
afford a garden for the school of botany, & an
experimental farm for that of Agriculture…
the plan, and the superintendence under
which it will be, give me the hope that we
are at length to have a seminary of general
education, in a central and healthy part of
the country, with the comfort of knowing
that while we are husbanding our hard
earnings and savings to give to our sons the
benefits of education53
Left: Jefferson’s plan for Central College in his letter to Dr.
William Thornton, May 9, 1817. UVa Library.
Much of the opposition to Jefferson’s educational
plans was not from an ideological standpoint but
rather a financial one. As best summarized by
Dumas Malone, “he [Jefferson] regarded the cost
of these schools as trivial in comparison with the
cost of ignorance.”54 Therefore, Jefferson sought
to justify his design beyond the immediate realms
of education and aesthetic value. In the Report of
the Commissioners for the University of Virginia
from August 4, 1818, known most commonly as
the Rockfish Gap Report, Jefferson further codified
his rational for the University’s design.55 He stated
that the design provided unity, tranquility for the
professors, and of utmost importance, provided
security against fire and infection. The idea of
designing for health was certainly not a prominent
one of Jefferson’s America even though the concept
was rooted in the texts of Vitruvius and Palladio and
was revived in Enlightenment architecture such as
the ideal city of Chaux by Ledoux. The architectural
arrangement of the University was intended to
demonstrate basic principles of urban planning for
safety and health.
Finally on January 25, 1819 the Virginia state
legislature chartered the University of Virginia,
naming Central College as the site. By this time,
many of Jefferson’s architectural operations at
Monticello had finished, allowing him to devote
more time to the design and construction of the
University. Although Jefferson’s University was given
both a site and small annual grant, the difficulties
of the University did not subside. Construction was
moving along at a slower pace than desired due to
a lack of funding and able craftsmen, the University
was already faced with its first lawsuit, and the
realization of Jefferson’s essential architectural
symbol of education, the Rotunda, was in peril. Even
though the University now existed on paper and in a
few constructions on the land, the prospects of ever
seeing students occupy the Academical Village must
have seemed bleak.56
Left and right: Jefferson’s various plans and elevations for
pavilions. UVa Library.
“It is the last act of usefulness I can render, and could I see it open I would not ask an hour more of life.”
Jefferson to Spencer Roane, 1821
The Ultimate Icon
Jefferson’s University had been in the planning
stages of schematic design since the early 1800s; yet
the frustratingly slow progress of the University’s
adoption can be viewed in stark contrast to the rapid
design development and construction of much of
the Academical Village. At the age of seventy-six
Jefferson drew the basic designs for five of the east
pavilions in two weeks. 57 In between the laying of
the cornerstone for Central College at Pavilion VII on
October 6, 1817 and Jefferson’s first annual report
to Richmond about the affairs of the University,
dated December 1,1819, seven of the ten pavilions
were completed or under construction and thirtyseven students dorms were ready for occupation.58
Despite the enthusiastic language of the report,
the University would not receive its first students
for more than five years and Jefferson had not yet
completed plans for the Rotunda.
The Rotunda, originally intended to serve as the library
and repository of multiuse spaces, is the most iconic
element of the University of Virginia; however, it was
the structure met with the most contention during
Jefferson’s lifetime. Jefferson’s design for the building
derived from Leoni’s depiction of the Pantheon.
Aptly, Jefferson transformed a temple to all the gods
into a temple of knowledge. The elevated, and costly,
architecture of the Rotunda was not viewed as a
fortuitous move by all. Critics of the Rotunda stated
that the building was suffocating Virginia’s Literary
Fund and, “the architectural beauty of the school
will lead to a corresponding display of furniture &
dress among the faculty & students. It will lead to
ostentatious pride and will give this image to the
rest of the country.”59 Thankfully, with an additional
grant from the Literary Fund and the forgiveness
of loans of more than $180,000 in 1824 from the
Virginia legislature, the construction of the Rotunda
proceeded as planned.60 Although the process of
creating the University was a stressful, lengthy one
for the aging Jefferson, his letters consistently reveal
his passion and pride in the enterprise:
I am laying the foundation of an University in
my native state, which I hope will repay the
liberalities of it’s legislature by improving the
virtue and science of their country, already
blest with a soil and climate emulating those
of your favorite Lodi. I have been myself the
Architect of the plan of it’s buildings, and
of it’s system of instruction. for years have
been employed in the former, and I assure
you it would be thought a handsome &
Classical thing in Italy. I have preferred the
plan of an Academical village rather than
that of a single, massive structure. the
diversified forms which this admitted in
the different Pavilions, and varieties of the
finest samples of architecture, has made of
it a model of beauty original and unique. it
is within view too of Monticello, So it’s most
splendid object, and a constant gratification
to my sight.61
Left: Jefferson’s drawing for the south elevation of the Rotunda,
before 1818. UVa Library.
Bottom: author’s photograph of UVa from Monticello.
Forty years after Jefferson’s first presentation of the
Bill for the More General Diffusion of Knowledge
he saw a facet of his educational system come
into fruition: a public university with no religious
affiliation. When Lafayette visited his revolutionary
friend in 1824, Jefferson took advantage of the
opportunity to inaugurate the Rotunda. The first
public dinner at the University was attended by
Lafayette and 400 guests on November 5, 1824. At
the time the Rotunda portico was devoid of columns,
the roof construction was unfinished and only a little
over half of the Academical Village was complete.62
After a delayed opening due to the arrival of foreign
professors, the University welcomed its first sixtyeight students on March 7, 1825; Jefferson was
eighty-two years old.
Sixteen Months
After a quest for public education that lasted more
than forty-eight years, Jefferson only lived to see
his University in full operation for a mere sixteen
months. After working on his home for more than
forty years and the concept of a public university
for nearly fifty, the brief time when Jefferson saw
both projects come to full fruition proved to be
anything but a relief from life the chaotic schedule
to which Jefferson had become accustomed during
his lifetime. Construction on Jefferson’s ‘essay
on architecture’ was largely completed by 1809
although major changes occurred through 1823.63
Despite a quieted condition of saws and hammers,
Monticello was still a flurry of activity due to family
occupation and visitation to the home from both
invited and uninvited guests. When the University
opened, Jefferson still made rides into Charlottesville
to oversee the ongoing and much anticipated
construction of his great Rotunda. He spent time on
the grounds, touring visitors to the University and,
unfortunately, dealing with disciplinary measures
related to unruly students. Early students at the
University complained about the chaos and noise of
construction. The October Riots of 1825 proved to
Jefferson that self-governance for the gentlemen of
his University, some as young as sixteen and away
from their families for the first time, was too great
a freedom.64 However, it seems only fitting that the
University of a patriot often considered a radical,
was filled with vivacious students. Despite Jefferson’s
difficulties with the first scholars, he still invited a
certain number students to dine with him on Sunday
evenings at Monticello.65
day, at least before that of our meeting, as we can
prepare our business here so much more at leisure
than at the University.”68 It is interesting to imagine
Jefferson dining with the Board, discussing the lack
of funding for the University and the publicized
criticism of the elevated architecture of the
institution while surrounded by the masterpiece of
Monticello. Jefferson literally enveloped the Board
with the rationale of his argument: designed space
was important.
Monticello and the University of Virginia were
dependent sites during Jefferson’s lifetime. Both
sites were in view of one another, they shared similar
architectural vocabularies and the fingerprints of
many workers appeared at both sites.66 Towards the
end of his life, Jefferson poured more effort into the
University rather than his own home in relation to
design and construction: the University had rendered
columns before the iconic West Portico of Monticello
was finished.67 The visual between Monticello on the
mountaintop and the University below connected
the two sites; however the two places were also
connected as offices for the operations of Jefferson’s
educational plan. It was common for the Board to
convene at Monticello and discuss major issues the
evening before the formal meeting, “I shall hope to
have the pleasure of receiving you at Monticello a
In many ways the University served as Jefferson’s
paternal legacy to his nation since he had no surviving
male children from his marriage to Martha Wayles
Skelton. The inscription on his tombstone that stated
he was ‘father’ not merely ‘founder’ of the University
of Virginia. This was no accident of terminology. In
many of his descriptions of the University, Jefferson
commands a parental tone.69 Jefferson’s own family
understood his passion for the University but often
lamented his tireless dedication. After Jefferson’s
passing his eldest grandson wrote that Jefferson
took daily rides to the University despite his
discomfort and, “he would probably have lived ten
years longer if he had not persisted in the resolution
to be actively usefull to the end.”70 Many of the
grandchildren wrote about the University as a prized
project but Jefferson’s daughter was not amenable
to the additional company that the University
yielded the already busy household of Monticello,
“we have allways a great deal of company in the
summer, but the University has encreased the evil to
such a degree that our lives are literally spent in the
drawing room frequently I have been detained from
10 to 3, and in addition a large and unexpected party
to dinner.”71 Many family letters similar to the two
cited here show that Monticello and the University
often shared traffic.
Jefferson made his last visit to the University in
early June 1826. The account in Malone’s Sage of
Monticello was that the ailing Jefferson went to
the unfinished second story of the Rotunda and
watched the first marble capitol lifted into place.72
He remained for about an hour, inspected the
construction of the Dome Room that had already
been delayed and then returned to his home.
Jefferson did not live to see the Rotunda completed
but today visitors to Monticello are gifted with an
attractive vista of the Rotunda through the foliage
from the North Terrace. During those brief sixteen
months it seems as if Monticello and the University
shared their closest connection. Although tourists
to Monticello are encouraged to visit the University
and select lecture courses from the University make
annual field trips to Jefferson’s home, the sense of
mutual visitation between the sites is not strong.
Today, the strongest connective tissue between
these sites is related to the architectural design.
Edgar Allan Poe
Poe attended the University from February to
December in 1826.73 Poe’s time in Charlottesville
certainly had in impact on the young writer. Poe’s
‘A Tale of Ragged Mountains’, published for the
first time nearly twenty-five years after he left the
University, is a story of mesmerism that takes place
in the hills outside of Charlottesville. A hike taken by
Poe in the Blue Ridge inspired the dramatic imagery
utilized in the story. Perhaps Poe’s initial literary
foray into the grotesque was inspired by his brief
time at the University during its notoriously chaotic,
vulgar and often violent early years of operation. In
a letter to his step father on September 21, 1826 Poe
described a fight outside his room that resulted in
the expulsion of a student:
The faculty expelled Wickliffe last night for
general bad conduct -- but more especially
for biting one of the student’s arms with
whom he was fighting -- I saw the whole
affair -- it took place before my door -Wickliffe was much the stronger but not
content with that -- after getting the other
completely in his power, he began to bite -- I
saw the arm afterwards -- and it was really
a serious matter. It was bitten from the
shoulder to the elbow -- and it is likely that
pieces of flesh as large as my hand will be
obliged to be cut out.74
Much like Jefferson, Poe retains a ghosted place at
the University through the preservation of his room;
paradoxically room number thirteen on the West
Range. Here students and visitors can peer through
plexi glass and into a recreated time capsule of one of
the earliest students at the University. Poe’s presence
at Monticello is a possible one as well considering
the young student may have dined with the former
President during one of the Sunday dinners held at
Monticello during the University’s first two sessions
of operation.75 Many have also asserted that Poe
was also part of the University party that marched
from Charlottesville to Monticello in mourning of
their institution’s founder.76
Although Poe’s presence at Monticello is not a
historical certainty according to the documentary
evidence, it is enticing to envision the interaction
between two talented, but at many times troubled,
minds. Did Poe’s experience at Monticello somehow
inspire fragments of his imagery in ‘The Fall of the
House of Usher’? If Poe had visited the ‘sage of
Monticello’ in his later years he would have seen a
neoclassical home with signs of disrepair, a museum
with collections on the walls and varied objects
scattered around the room and a parlor containing
an art gallery saturated with paintings. Although
many of the items in Monticello were uplifting
images of natural and constructed beauty, it would
be hard to escape the sublime tones of the home:
mastodon bones on marble tables, a wall adorned
with animal antlers, skins, and heads, a painting of
the head of St. John the Baptist, the eyes of intricately
carved portrait busts staring from pedestals around
the corners of rooms, and large mirrors to reflect
flickering candle light in the dim hours of the evening.
The architecture of the home itself was a contrast
of carefully constructed elements and deteriorating
details. Passages from ‘The Fall of the House of
Usher’ could have easy been ascribed as notes from
visitors to Monticello in the later years of Jefferson’s
life:
Its principal feature seemed to be that of an
excessive antiquity. The discoloration of ages
had been great. Minute fungi overspread
the whole exterior, hanging in a fine tangled
web-work from the eaves. Yet all this was
apart from any extraordinary dilapidation.
No portion of the masonry had fallen; and
there appeared to be a wild inconsistency
between its still perfect adaptation of parts,
and the crumbling condition of the individual
stones… The general furniture was profuse,
comfortless, antique, and tattered. Many
books and musical instruments lay scattered
about…77
“Architecture is my delight, and putting up and pulling down, one of my favorite amusements.”
Jefferson, 1824
Design
If Monticello was Jefferson’s self-titled ‘essay in
architecture’, then the University was most certainly
his treatise. Monticello was a piece of residential
architecture; the design and construction of the
home spanned Jefferson’s entire adult lifetime. The
house is a reflection of his evolution as an architect,
especially considering the massive design changes
from Monticello I to the home as it is known today.
Monticello, however, was small scale and was an
isolated project. Jefferson made no mention of
his home’s design as a prototype for reproduction
around the nation nor did he take any measures to
preserve the home for the future as a monument of
neoclassical architecture in his budding nation The
University, however, was a different condition. It was
illustrative of his theories of design for institutional
architecture that had been written in letters since
1805. Jefferson’s University was ground breaking
for its design in America. It is clear from Jefferson’s
letters that advocated an open court design flanked
by combined accommodations and classrooms that
Jefferson was not carefully guarding the intellectual
property of his design but rather disseminating
the idea for greater implementation. Just like
an architectural treatise, Jefferson’s University
provided a guide for the ideological structure of
new institutional architecture in America and varied
interpretations of neoclassical design. In many
ways, Monticello served as a small practice piece for
elements of the University’s design. Nonetheless,
both sites contain unique design solutions that make
Monticello and the University ideal case studies in
Jeffersonian architectural theory.
Site Selection
Monticello and the University of Virginia are both
located in Charlottesville, Virginia, just four miles
apart from each other. The small city of Charlottesville
was never a capitol, the site of any major battle, or
famous for any particular natural feature; but it was
home to Thomas Jefferson. Many of his formative
years were spent in the area, considered the
frontier of Virginia at that point in time. Although
Charlottesville was thriving during Jefferson’s
lifetime he chose to situate both Monticello and the
University outside of the city. Both Jefferson’s home
and the University give distinct insight to his ideas
on site selection and display the influence of ancient
architecture. As a young man, Jefferson would have
been familiar with the villa typology from his study
of ancient Romans such as Pliny the Younger, a first
century writer and Roman statesman, who described
the benefits of villas in the country.79 When Jefferson
broke ground on his mountaintop home in 1768,
removing approximately ten feet from the summit,
he conscientiously situated his home as a model
villa rustica that provided respite from the chaos
of urban life, negotium, in the form of relaxation in
nature, otium.80 The location of Monticello displayed
his favor of the picturesque over the practicality of a
highly functional plantation:
And our own dear Monticello: where has nature
spread so rich a mantle under the eye? Mountains,
forests, rocks, rivers! With what majesty do we
there ride above the storms! How sublime to look
down into the workhouse of nature, to see her
clouds, hail, snow, rain, thunder, all fabricated at
our feet! And the glorious sun when rising, as if
out of a distant water, just gliding the tops of the
mountain, and giving life to all nature.81
Similarly, when Jefferson purchased land for what
would become the University of Virginia he looked
outside of the city’s boundaries approximately one
mile to the west.82 Although it seems convenient that
Jefferson situated the University in his own backyard,
he went to great lengths to prove that Charlottesville
was an ideal location for a college. In 1818 Jefferson
argued, and graphically illustrated, that Charlottesville
was at the center of the state geographically and
also in relation to the population.83 The University
was much like Pliny’s description of a villa urbana: a
working retreat with the conveniences of urban life
removed from the city but only by a short commute.
Jefferson purposely situated the University outside
the immediate context of the city in order to provide
a more conducive learning environment, “I am not
a friend to placing young men in populous cities,
because they acquire there habits and partialities
which do not contribute to the happiness of their
after life.”84 The suburban location of the University
was also praised by early visitors:
In a city, or land cultivated country it would
not be so impressive—But on a noble
height—embosomed
in
mountains—
surrounded with a landscape so rich, varied
& beautiful—so remote from any city—There
was something novel, as well as grand in its
locality, that certainly had a strong effect on
the imagination. Were I, a young man & a
student there—methinks the place, alone,
would purify & elevate my mind.85
Both Monticello and the University illustrate
Jefferson’s approach to site design and his progress
as an early landscape architect. Both sites are
located in terrains with drastic changes in slope
and this terrain most likely governed the fact that
the buildings were not cardinally orientated. In
an early drawing, possibly a schematic design for
Monticello, Jefferson made a note that states the
front of the house should be oriented facing south
“if convenient.”86 However, as Jefferson further
studied and matured as an architect he may have
discovered that a true north-south orientation was
not the most fortuitous arrangement, especially in
a temperate like Charlottesville that experiences
warm summers and cold winters. An orientation
off the cardinal axis provides better diffusion of
light. Additionally, there is a prevailing wind from
the north in Charlottesville during the winter so it is
better to orientate a home with walls to deflect the
wind rather than a true north facing wall that would
absorb cold air and concentrated wind loads. As
designed, Jefferson orientated both Monticello and
the University to varying degrees east of north, 68.7˚
and 23.7˚ respectively. The University’s orientation
is particularly intriguing since the orientation is
extremely close to the 23.44˚ declination of the
sun. Jefferson’s land survey from July 18, 1817 and
the surviving plat illustrating the purchased lands
do not call out why the University was oriented in
this manner, nor do any of Jefferson’s own writings.
However, given his knowledge of surveying as well
as his interest astronomy, it seems unlikely that
the orientation is a mistake: on both the summer
and winter solstice the sun rises directly over the
Rotunda.
At both sites there is a drastic slope to the southeast;
however, Jefferson dealt with this design dilemma
in two very different ways. Jefferson capitalized
on the slope at Monticello by creating a series of
cascading terraces from the main plateau of the
West Lawn. The South Terrace loggia flowed to the
mixed use industrial alley of Mulberry row then
into the terrace garden and finally down a steep
drop to the vineyards. This sequence of spaces was
particularly fortuitous in terms of agriculture since
the warm morning air slowly rises from the lower
levels of the mountain to reach the garden areas
first. The change in topography at Monticello was
celebrated through a series of delineated spaces
where the orientation was actually advantageous
to the agricultural program. At the University, on
the other hand, the change in topography of more
than twenty feet from the first lawn terrace near the
Rotunda to the East Gardens was almost completely
disguised. A viewer standing on the south end of the
Academical Village looking towards the Rotunda has
no indication that the spaces behind the pavilions on
the east and west are anything but symmetrical in
slope. It is only after one ventures down the alleys
perpendicular to the Lawn that one discovers the
gentle slope to the west is in stark contrast to the
dramatic drop to the east. Jefferson mediated the
site difference by simply adding additional terraces
and retaining walls to the East Gardens. One main
argument for the visual asymmetry in the treatment
of terrain at Monticello from that of the University
is the difference in programmatic symmetry. At the
University, both sides of the Lawn contain pavilions,
classrooms, student rooms, and gardens: the same
activities were taking place on either side therefore
Jefferson made the slopes appear as symmetrical as
possible from the Lawn. At Monticello, the plantation
character of the north and south slopes are very
different: transportation and utilitarian domestic
functions are on the north such as a carriage house,
ice house, and grazing lands verses the agricultural
production of the in the kitchen, gardens and
vineyards. Topographic asymmetry was partially
related to function.
One important feature of both sites that is
rarely discussed in respect to the architectural
arrangement is the planting plan of trees around both
constructions. Jefferson was familiar with landscape
architecture from his personal study as well as
travels abroad where he saw the formulaic quincunx
gardens of Versailles in contrast to the picturesque
and sublime arrangements of gardens like Kew and
Stowe.87Although Jefferson may have appreciated
poetic landscapes he did not realize the usefulness
of a planting plan integrated with the architectural
arrangement until his return to America. In 1793
Jefferson wrote to his daughter while residing on the
Schuylkill River during his tenure as Secretary of State,
“I never before knew the full value of trees. My house
is entirely embosomed in high plane-trees, with good
grass below; and under them I breakfast, dine, write,
read, and receive my company. What I would not
give that the trees planted nearest round the house
at Monticello were full grown.”88 At Monticello,
Jefferson’s original planting plan illustrated a strong
reliance on deciduous trees to provide shade in the
summer and allow light to pass through for radiant
heating the winter months. For example, the trees
along Mulberry Row provide both shade and a visual
barrier in the summer between the southeastern
slope of the site and the West Lawn plateau. At the
University trees provide an enlivening feature to
the site; however the current plantings on the Lawn
were not present in Jefferson’s lifetime. Although
he gave ample consideration to the planting plan of
the gardens, the same attention was not paid to the
contained green space of the Academical Village.
Jefferson’s May 9, 1817 letter to Dr. Thornton stated
that the central area contains ‘grass and trees’ but
no early engravings of the University show any plant
life occupying the expanse of the Lawn. The initial
plantings on the Lawn were in the 1830s; considering
what a presence the large canopies now command
on the Lawn it is hard to imagine the space without
the changing, seasonal character of the trees.89
The overall site schemes for Monticello and the
University were unique approaches to how buildings
met the land. Jefferson created two sites that
were neither completely pastoral nor completely
constructed landscapes. Some have argued that
Jefferson was the initial designer of the garden
republic in America: a landscape design scheme that
rested between the wild and refined.90 Today the
extremely manicured landscapes do not represent
the scenery Jefferson would have been accustomed
to during his tenure at either site.91
Materiality
Today, sustainable or ‘green’ design is at the
forefront of architectural discussion. Site selection,
adaptability and energy management are key
elements of today’s sustainable architecture.
However, one of the most important elements in
regards to responsible environmental design is the
basic materiality of a building. Although sustainable
architecture is very much a facet of contemporary
popular society, the use of local materials is not a
new concept to architectural design. Like many of
his contemporaries, Jefferson used local materials
not as an act of conscientious sustainability but
out of necessity. The structures of Monticello and
the University were comprised of bricks due to
the availability of rich clay. Geologically, the soils
at Monticello and the University are comprised of
Cecil loam, which is fertile if maintained but also
very susceptible to sheet erosion, as well as three
different types of clay loams that were useful for the
production of bricks.92 Bricks were also used for the
composition of most of the columns at the University
as well as the columns of the West Portico and piers
of the terraces at Monticello.93 Local quartzite was
used for Monticello’s East Portico and Jefferson tried
to use mica schist for the ornamental parts of the
University such as capitols. Only after the material
was deemed unusable did Jefferson resort to
importing marble for the capitols of Pavilion III and
the Rotunda.94 Today the botched carvings of the
schist can be found in various forms of completion in
the gardens of certain pavilions.95
Axiality
The strong axies are some of the most commanding
features of Monticello and the University. Both designs
are a u-shaped parti with the most dominant edifice
at the apex. Although not cardinally oriented, both
sites impose a strong sense of the cardo decumanus
principles. Upon closer examination it is evident that
Jefferson was not a slave to the rhythm of these axies.
During the approach to the Monticello, the viewer is
purposefully put off axis along the roundabouts in
order to provide constantly changing views of the
home and its surrounding landscape. At Monticello
the axis of the terraces spanning north and south do
not directly intersect the main north-south axis of
the home. Additionally, the home possess no true
enfilade of rooms and certain axies are purposely
altered: for example, the axis along Jefferson’s
private apartment that spans from library to cabinet
is not separated by similar archways but rather by
one semicircular and one elliptical arch. The same,
slight but noticeable shift in axial alignment occurs
underneath the home in the passage.
At the University, the parallel rows of pavilions and
ranges intersect with the strong perpendicular axis
of the extended cryptoporticus of the Rotunda. In
order to emphasize the axis, the distance between
pavilions further increases as one moves south
on the site away from the Rotunda. The alleys,
flanked by serpentine walls that connect the rows
of pavilions to the Ranges on each side of the Lawn,
form secondary perpendicular axies. Jefferson added
one subtle design move that denotes a hierarchy
within these axial relationships: the alleys of the
east and west are terminated with a column from
the perpendicular colonnade of the Lawn. With
this simple design move, the axies of the alleys are
not allowed to cross the Lawn. This element also
disguises the fact that some of the alleys between
pavilions of the east and west sides do not perfectly
align, such as those between V and VII and IV and
VI.
The strong, extended axies at Monticello and the
University serve both aesthetic and utilitarian
functions. Both sites provide walkways sheltered
from the elements that serve as useful passages for
daily operations. These unique interstitial spaces
are reminiscent of the colonnades of cloisters or
the long loggias of urban architecture of the Italian
Renaissance. At both sites there is a duel layer of
circulation along the main axies. At Monticello
operations in the dependencies of the house existed
below the open terraces that connected the main
home to the pavilions. Likewise, at the University,
the colonnade connecting the student dormitories
provided a place for students to traverse to class
and congregate while the professors were granted
the same privilege above with their second story
terraces that connected all the pavilions of one side
of the Lawn together. The duel layer of the pathways
at both sites allowed for multiple operations to occur
at one time, where one group did not interrupt the
occupations of another and those of the elevated
status were literally occupied the higher road.
Left (far): detail of topographic changes of UVa terraces.
Left: abandoned Ionic mica capital in the garden of Pavilion III,
UVa library
Below: Column on the alley axis leading to the East Range.
Invention
The ICOMOS and UNESCO evaluations both describe
Monticello and the University of Virginia as icons
of American neoclassicism. Although both sites
represent an architectural shift from adopted
vernacular and the early stages of Georgian
architecture in America, neither Monticello nor the
University are strict interpretations of classical forms.
At both sites there is a manipulation of structure,
light, symmetry and circulation that could only be
likened to the most experimental of classical forms
such as the Erechtheum. Monticello is most certainly
the looser interpretation of the two sites; however,
certain details and bold moves at the University
illustrate that Jefferson was not resolutely bound to
the rules of classical architecture.
Monticello and the University are both brick
constructions, primarily composed of double wythe
bearing walls. Although the amount of apertures
within the structure was uncommon in Jefferson’s
America, the basic structural systems of both sites
was not atypical. Jefferson’s use of cantilevers,
however, was out of the ordinary. At Monticello
Jefferson used a pure cantilever form to construct
the mezzanine in the Entrance Hall. The U-shaped
mezzanine has chamfered angles; thereby the
joists of the cantilever are tied together in plan
both horizontally and vertically making one unified
structural system. At the University six of the ten
pavilions have cantilevered balconies that are given
extra support with vertical tension rods connected
to the ceiling framing of the porticos.96 From the
front elevation of a pavilion with a suspended
balcony the tension rods are hidden behind the
rendered brick columns, making it appear as if the
balcony is floating.97 Jefferson’s incorporation of
tension rods allowed for balconies with relatively
large areas to be constructed and provided a preIndustrial Revolution example of technology melded
with neoclassical design.
The dome at Monticello was constructed in the
Delorme manner, a structural system that Jefferson
was introduced to during his travels in France.98
This non-masonry form of construction used
curved wooden segments that were laminated then
connected together with wooden pegs in order to
create continuous structural ribs. Jefferson made one
important change to the prescribed Delorme method
which was the use of nails for initial lamination not
pegged joints; this connection showed Jefferson’s
pragmatic side. At Monticello nails were easily
available on site.99 Pegged mortise and tenon joints
were attached to ‘hoop’ members that provided the
tension rings necessary for the dome to resist the
thrust of the vault.100 The resulting dome is lighter
than a masonry construction, less expensive, and
was comprised of prefabricated elements making is
easier to construct. Jefferson’s dome at the Rotunda
was also constructed in the Delorme manner.101
At both sites a compression ring allowed for the
intervention of a glass-encased oculus.
Glass took on a unique role at both sites thereby
a making the play of light a dynamic feature in the
architecture. In terms of Enlightenment ideology,
light symbolized clarity and radiance rather than
a mysterious, divine intervention.102 True to his
mathematical routes as the son of a surveyor,
Jefferson wrote down a formulaic rule for light in
his building notebook, “Light. Rule for the quantity
requisite for a room. Multiply the length, breadth, &
height together hi feet, & extract the square root of
their product. This must be the sum of the areas of
all the windows.”103 Essentially, the volume of a room
determined the area of glass necessary for desirable
occupation. Jefferson’s light rule can be simplistically
illustrated in the design of the student rooms at the
University: the square route of volume of the 10’ x
10’x 10’ room is only slightly larger than the area of
the singular window in each dorm measuring 4’x
7’. The door for each room provides an extra lightyielding aperture since it opens directly onto the
exterior colonnade and maybe this feature allowed
Jefferson to slightly deviate from his light rule to
create smaller windows for the dormitories that
conformed to the overall proportions of the dorms in
relation to the pavilions. Triple sash windows adorn
both Monticello and the pavilions of the University.
Extremely useful for air circulation and easily made
into an additional means of egress, the windows
were one third larger than the typical windows of
the time.104 Louvered blinds and interior shutters are
attached to most windows at both sites to moderate
solar gain. Although rectilinear skylights exist only at
Monticello, Jefferson incorporated an oculus into the
design of both his Dome Room and the University’s
Rotunda. The Rotunda’s oculus is sixteen feet in
diameter, exactly four times larger than that of
Monticello’s Dome Room. At both sites, the oculus
provides diffused light and casts a dramatic circular
illumination around the room during the course of
the day. Unlike the Pantheon, both of Jefferson’s
domes have apertures other than the oculus. The
resulting space is a light filled rotunda that affords
views not only to the sky but also to the surrounding
landscape. At both sites, light penetrates even the
subterranean spaces through the placement of
windows along the ground: lunettes illuminate
the cryptoporticus underneath Monticello and the
Rotunda. Jefferson used the cryptoporticus, a familiar
feature of a Roman villa, as connective passage but
refined the form by enclosing the apertures with
glass. Therefore, the glazed lunettes create a rhythm
along the lowest elevation of Monticello and the
Rotunda.
The game of visual symmetry is played very differently
at both sites: at his home, Jefferson seems to
celebrate irregularities in form whereas he masked
many of them at the University. At Monticello, no
façade is identical or possess pure symmetrical
geometry. The plan clearly indicates that the east
and the west facades must be treated differently:
the structure of the east is in antis and the west is
extruded. From this difference the two distinctive
façades of the home were embellished and from
an elevation standpoint, the Venetian porches add
the only element of asymmetry to the otherwise
balanced façades. From the plan is seems as though
the north and south façades of the home must have
similar elevation characteristics: both areas are
interstitial spaces that blur the boundary between
inside and outside yet the arcade of north piazza is
left open to the elements where as the arches of the
south piazza are enclosed with wood and triple sash
windows to make the greenhouse. The north piazza
creates subtractive architecture within the form of
the building whereas the south piazza is additive: the
greenhouse is flanked by the Venetian porches that
provide another protective visual and thermal shield
to the home. Even if the difference in the arcade
treatment of the north and south façade is ignored
there is one, clever detail that separates the designs.
On the south, there are windows in the frieze,
placed within the construct of three metopes. This
detail was a simplistic way to get light to the nursery
of the second story without exposing the space to
cold drafts from a larger aperture. The windows fit
neatly within the existing decorative language of
the entablature and are some of the most modern,
almost mannerist features of the home.
As a whole design, symmetry was a one of the most
commanding features of the University, as brilliantly
illustrated in the Maverick engraving commissioned
by Jefferson in 1822-3.105 The pavilions of the east and
west balance each other in mass and articulation, the
colonnades are mirror images with the exception of
the arcade of Pavilion VII and the Rotunda is a object
of pure geometry. Jefferson’s unique insertion of
elliptical rooms into the round plan is disguised in
the architecture of the exterior. From the exterior,
the rooms of the Rotunda appear to be uniform due
to the uninterrupted rhythm of windows; however,
the east and west- facing windows are directly in
front of chimneys for the fireplaces of the elliptical
meeting rooms.
Jefferson was a neoclassical architect that was able
to use precedent without architectural plagiarism.
The architectural language of Monticello is an
amalgamation of several classical ideas but has
no direct precedent.106 Although the form of the
entrance on the East Portico of Monticello is
reminiscent of a temple entrance in antis, the semioctangular structure enclosed by the West Portico
does not have a precedent in ancient architecture.107
A more bold manipulation of the portico form is
present at the University. At Pavilion VIII, the portico
form is seamlessly translated into a vestibule and at
Pavilion X the Giant order of the portico engulfs the
uninterrupted form of the second story terrace. As
a general note, the pavilions closer to the Rotunda
are more strict interpretations of classical forms
whereas the pavilions of the south end of the site
display more editorial, neoclassical license. Although
the Rotunda initially appears as a direct derivative
of the Pantheon in Rome, there are several key
design alterations that truly make the building a
reinterpreted neoclassical model. Unfortunately,
Jefferson never saw the Pantheon for himself but
had to rely on the comprehensive plans, sections,
and elevations of the buildings in the Leoni edition
of Palladio’s Four Books on Architecture.108 Jefferson
disregarded the double portico and elongated drum
of the Pantheon, created an edifice half the size,
left the frieze devoid of inscription and added a
timepiece to the pediment.109 The biggest variation
between the Pantheon and the Rotunda was the
change from an octastyle to a hexastyle portico. This
change allowed Jefferson to create a portico of ten
columns, exactly equal to the number of original
disciplines and pavilions of his Academical Village.
Architecture of Educational Spaces
At both Monticello and the University Jefferson
created a series of classrooms out of doors. At
his home, the greenhouse was limited in terms of
functionality but it provided Jefferson an interstitial
place between the closed quarters of his library
and the open vistas of the South Terrace.110 The
adjacent corner terraces provided planters, open
to the elements, and Cornelia Randolph’s drawing
of the home from after July 4, 1826 specifically
labels the south corner terrace as the location of a
violet bed.111 To the west, Jefferson’s environmental
classroom fully opened to the landscape. The West
Lawn proved a place for exercise and botany, the
winding path of the flower garden was designed in
stark contrast to the strict rectilinear arrangement of
the south terrace garden. Within Jefferson’s terrace
garden he constructed a pavilion, first designed as a
rectangle adjacent to the sheer, rock retaining wall
of Mulberry Row.112 Upon reexamination, Jefferson
constructed the more romantic square garden
pavilion that was erected on the edit of the terrace,
overlooking the vineyards and Jefferson’s ‘sea view’.
From the pavilion Jefferson could have shelter for
quiet study away from the chaos of the home and
watch weather formations between the extreme
changes in elevation between the valley to the east
and his Montalto to the west.
Jefferson took the classroom outside at University
of Virginia as well, albeit in a more formal manner.
The gardens between the pavilions and ranges
served as examples of agricultural and botanical
arrangements. The arrangement of the pavilions
and student dormitories around the Lawn provided
a space for exercise and the pavilions themselves
were intended to serve as premier architectural
examples for instruction, “these pavilions as they will
show themselves above the dormitories, should be
models of taste & good architecture, & of a variety of
appearance, no two alike, so as to serve as specimens
for the Architectural Lectures.”113 It is not difficult
to imagine Jefferson as a student of his Univeristy:
the young man that was once enraptured by the
architecture of Europe could now find examples
of refinement and design in his own country. The
colonnades of the Lawn were intended to serve
as paths of conveyance for the students, sheltered
from the elements. However, these two axies along
the east and west sides of the Lawn serve additional
functions: they provide a continuous front porch
for informal discourse between the students and
professors. As the University has grown, educational
spaces out of doors have remained an important
part of the curriculum. Unfortunately though, these
spaces are not as treasured as informal learning
opportunities from a financial standpoint: the
University does not count outdoor, unconditioned
educational spaces in budget allowances for
the renovation and construction of buildings on
grounds.114
Conclusion
Jefferson was one of the primary architects of the
American Enlightenment in relation to governmental
structure, education and built space. Jefferson’s
home began as an experimental, self-motivated
construction and eventually became an international
icon. Monticello was not only the primary residence a
man of international influence but the home’s design
was an anomaly for the nation. As an ambitious,
self-taught architect, Jefferson did not limited in his
architectural program to his own homes or small,
sideline projects. Jefferson pursued the architecture
of national identity through his work at the Virginia
State Capitol and his suggestions for the nation’s
capitol in Washington. Nonetheless, his greatest
contribution was the architecture of education:
at the University Jefferson created an academical
village that was a perfect vessel for learning. It was
complete with indoor and outdoor classrooms,
places for informal discourse sheltered from the
weather and neoclassical forms adapted for modern
uses. Jefferson took the architectural lessons learned
at his private residence and translated design ideas,
sectional properties and light manipulations into
moves appropriate for a public program. At the
University, Jefferson uniquely took the five part
Palladian parti and translated it into an expandable,
replicable institutional architecture.
Monticello and the University of Virginia are built
expressions of Jefferson’s aspirations for the young
nation: both structures express confidence, the value
of education and maintain fortuitous connections to
the surrounding landscape. Although both places
have been altered since Jefferson’s time, they both
maintain strong educational program. Today, I have
no doubt that Jefferson would be pleased to know
that both sites have high visitation and many of
those visitors come equipped with cameras in an
attempt to capture Jefferson’s unique approach to
the architecture as a true national builder.
Appendix A: United Nations World Heritage List Selection Criteria
i.
to represent a masterpiece of human creative genius;
ii.
to exhibit an important interchange of human values, over a span of time or within a cultural area of the world, on developments in architecture or
technology, monumental arts, town-planning or landscape design;
iii.
to bear a unique or at least exceptional testimony to a cultural tradition or to a civilization which is living or which has disappeared;
iv.
to be an outstanding example of a type of building, architectural or technological ensemble or landscape which illustrates (a) significant stage(s) in human
history;
v.
to be an outstanding example of a traditional human settlement, land-use, or sea-use which is representative of a culture (or cultures), or human interaction
with the environment especially when it has become vulnerable under the impact of irreversible change;
vi.
to be directly or tangibly associated with events or living traditions, with ideas, or with beliefs, with artistic and literary works of outstanding universal
significance. (The Committee considers that this criterion should preferably be used in conjunction with other criteria);
vii.
to contain superlative natural phenomena or areas of exceptional natural beauty and aesthetic importance;
viii. to be outstanding examples representing major stages of earth’s history, including the record of life, significant on-going geological processes in the
development of landforms, or significant geomorphic or physiographic features;
ix.
to be outstanding examples representing significant on-going ecological and biological processes in the evolution and development of terrestrial, fresh water,
coastal and marine ecosystems and communities of plants and animals;
x.
to contain the most important and significant natural habitats for in-situ conservation of biological diversity, including those containing threatened species
of outstanding universal value from the point of view of science or conservation.
Appendix B: Projects related to the Enlightenment
on the World Heritage List
Date of Inscription: 1982
Royal Saltworks of Arc-et-Senans, France (no. 203)
Architect: Claude-Nicolas Ledoux
Construction begun 1775
The rational and hierarchical organization of an industrial
city was meant to promote order, harmony and serve as
a model for the future construction of an ideal city.
Date of Inscription: 1987
City of Bath, England (no. 428)
Associated architects: John Woods, Robert Adam,
Thomas Baldwin, John Palmer
The neoclassical theme is prevalent through the planning, architecture, and the spa-city culture that was
embraced in the embraced eighteenth century with a
focus on the Roman baths.
Date of Inscription: 1990
Palaces and Parks of Potsdam and Berlin, Germany (no.
532ter)
The varied spaces reflect architectural ideals of the
Enlightenment and served as places of discourse for
philosophers such as Voltaire.
Date of Inscription: 1995
Old and New Towns of Edinburgh, Scotland (no.728)
The new town is one of the best preserved examples of
urban, neoclassical planning and architecture that also
served as a center for the Enlightenment movement.
Date of Inscription: 1999
Museumsinsel (Museum Island) in Berlin, Germany (no.
896)
The concept of the public museum evolved from the
Enlightenment and the five museums that occupy the
island represent the evolution of this building type and
contained program through structures constructed between 1824-1930.
Date of Inscription: 2001
New Lanark in South Lanarkshire, Scotland (no. 429rev)
Much like the Saltworks, the town design reflected the
Utopian concepts of founder Robert Owen and served as
an architectural experiment on the eve of the Industrial
Revolution.
Date of Inscription: 2000
Garden Kingdom of Dessau- Wörlitz, Germany (no.
534rev)
The gardens reflect principles of the Enlightenment
through the incorporation of aesthetic, education and
economic program within the diverse elements of the
design.
Date of inscription: 2003
Royal Botanic Gardens of Kew, England (no. 1084)
Associated designers: William Kent, Capability Brown,
William Chambers
The design and planting plan display the scientific and
economic pursuits in the field of botany in the eighteenth century that would eventually lead to pastoral
and sublime design movements in landscape architecture.
Date of Inscription: 2004
Muskauer Park/ Park Muzakowshi, shared listing of Germany and Poland (no. 1127)
Created by Prince Hermann von Puckler-Muskau between 1815-1844 the park represented a fundamental
shift in the design philosophy of landscape architecture:
movement away from the concept of classical gardens
and the incorporation native plants for a more humanized design.
Date of Inscription: 2007
Port of the Moon, Bordeaux, France (no. 1256)
The urban planning and architecture of the renovations
from the eighteenth century represent the cross-cultural
and cosmopolitan ideals of Enlightenment philosophy.
Endnotes
1
The Thomas Jefferson Thematic Nomination
will hereafter be referred to as the Jefferson Nomination
2
At the end of 2004, UENSCO adopted a single
matrix for the ten criteria, allowing for mixed sites to be
incorporated into the list.
3
For report of the 11th Session of the World Heritage Committee containing a full list of sites and inscription extensions see World Heritage Committee, ”Report
of the World Heritage Committee Eleventh Session:
UNESCO. Headquarters, 7-11 December 1987,” United
National Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization. http://whc.unesco.org/archive/repcom87.htm.
4
Tony Lee was the author of the UNSECO submission with consultation of Thomas Jefferson Foundation and University of Virginia. Her initial letter of inquiry
regarding the nomination was addressed to William
Beiswanger of the Thomas Jefferson Foundation on
September 9, 1985. The proposal for submission was accepted and both sites were consulted on the submission
document.
5
Thomas Jefferson Thematic Nomination. “World Heritage List Nomination: Monticello
and the University of Virginia in Charlottesville No.
442.”Submitted by Assistant Secretary of the Interior 11
December 1986, 6.
6
See Appendix I for the complete UNESCO World
Heritage Criterion list.
7
The ICOMOS report was presented to the 11th
session of the World Heritage Committee at UNESCO
headquarters in Pars. The Committee was comprised of
voting members from Algeria, Australia, Brazil, Bulgaria,
Canada, Cuba, France, Greece, India, Italy, Lebanon,
Mexico, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Tunisia, Turkey, United
Republic of Tanzania, United States of America, and the
Yemen Arab Republic.
8
International Council on Monuments and Sites.
“Advisory Body Evaluation” United National Educational,
Scientific and Cultural Organization, 1.
9
Ibid, 3.
10
The Saltworks was constructed between 17751779 and during Jefferson’s tenure in France Ledoux was
heavily engaged in the ‘Barrières’ or toll house project
for Paris from 1783-1787. While serving as Minister to
France Jefferson may have met Ledoux considering the
French architect was one of Louis XVI’s preferred designers.
11
Architecture parlante is, “the expressiveness
sought by French revolutionary architects, notably
Ledoux and Boulée, with a ‘narrative’ architecture whose
purpose and character would be made evident not by
symbols but by structure and form.” John Fleming, Hugh
Honour, and Nikolaus Pevsner, Penguin Dictionary of Architecture and Landscape Architecture, 5th ed ( London:
Penguin Books, 1999), 22.
12
The city of Vicenza and Palladio’s villas in the
Veneto were inscribed in 1994 and the list was later
extended in 1996. Four major townhouses of Victor
Horta in Belgium were inscribed in 2000. In 2008 Berlin
Modernism Housing Estates recognizing the work of the
Bauhuas were inscribed; this nomination is separate
from the inscription of the Bauhuas sites in Weimar and
Dessau that were added to the list in 1996. Several other
architects may join the list of repeatedly recognized
designers in regards to pending items on the World Heritage Tentative List: in 2006 France nominated fourteen
buildings under the heading of Le Corbusier’s body of
work, in 2006 Italy submitted nominations for the works
of Leon Battista Alberti, and in 2008 the United States
submitted a nomination for the works of Frank Lloyd
Wright that included ten of his built works in America.
13
Fiske Kimball’s pioneering work on Jefferson as
architect gave Jefferson credit as a revivalist but not necessarily as a revolutionary architect. See Pickens for more
on this distinction. Much of Jefferson’s work, especially
Monticello, was thought to be the genius of Robert Mills.
One of the first books on American architecture, William
Dunlap’s History of the Rise and Progress of the Arts of
Design in the United States, had no separate listing for
Jefferson but rather cited him as a footnote to Mills. See
Richard Guy Wilson, ed. Thomas Jefferson’s Academical
Village: The Creation of an Architectural Masterpiece
(Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 1995), 4774.
14
Not all of Jefferson’s designs had strong programmatic motivations. Projects such as his unbuilt designs for the Monticello decorative outchamber (c.1778,
Nicols 5), Governor’s Palace (1779-1781, Nicols 7),
Octagonal Chapel (c.1770, Nicols 9), designs for Bremo
(c.1820, Nicols 31-32) and built projects at Barboursville,
Farmington, and Edgemont are better classified as ‘armchair architect’ exercises in composition.
15
Dorinda Outram, Panorama of the Enlightenment (London: Thames & Hudson, 2006), 56.
16
Outram, 184. The sense of self was viewed as
secular and completely apart from the God-given soul.
17
Outram, 18. The Enlightenment was one of the
first recorded time when silent reading, not in public
forum, was recorded as a prolific and even encouraged
activity. The idea of introspective, self-guided study will
be examined further in the text.
18
Henry Steele Commager, Jefferson, Nationalism and the Enlightenment (New York: George Braziller,
1975), 3.
19
Commager, 13.
20
Henry F. May, The Enlightenment in America
(New York: Oxford University Press, 1976), 133.
21
Thomas Jefferson to Colonel Monroe, Paris,
June 17, 1785 in Adrieene Koch and William Peden, eds,
The Life and Selected Writings of Thomas Jefferson (New
York: Modern Library, 1998), 341-2.
22
Thomas Jefferson to M. Jullien, Monticello
1818 from John P. Foley, ed, A Comprehensive Collection of the Views of Thomas Jefferson (New York: Funk &
Wagnells, 1900), transcribed by the University of Virginia
Library Thomas Jefferson Digital Archive of the Electronic
Text Center. Hereafter referred to as E-text.
23
For a list of contributions of Founding Fathers
to education in America see Commager, 114.
24
Jefferson even remarks on this fact in his “Autobiography” written January 6, 1821. See Koch and Peden,
3-104.
25
The evolution of Jefferson’s theories for public
education were largely informed by his own education
experiences but also by books he owned such as Francis
Green’s Green on Speech of the Deaf and Dumb (1783),
Samuel Knox’s Knox on Education (1799) and Joseph
Lancaster’s Improvements in Education (1803). See
James A. Heath, “Thomas Jefferson: Architect of American Public Education” (EdD diss., Pepperdine University,
1998), 162 for a more comprehensive analysis.
26
Thomas Jefferson to Du Pont Nemours, Poplar
Forest, April 24, 1816, E-text.
27
Heath, 14.
28
Thomas Jefferson to John Adams, Monticello,
October 28, 1813 in Koch and Peden, 579-80.
29
For the full text see Merrill D Peterson, ed,
Thomas Jefferson Writings (New York, Literary Classics,
1984) 365-373). The closest manifestation of Jefferson’s
region-based educational concepts was the passage of
the 1785 Land Ordinance that devised a system of land
units of thirty-six square miles with a school closest to
the center of the square as convenient. Additionally, the
Ordinance called for 100,000 acres to be devoted for a
university in each state. See Cameron Addis, Jefferson’s
Vision for Education 1760-1845 (New York: Peter Lang,
2003), 25. Jefferson returned to his idea of localized
schools in the Rockfish Gap Report of 1818, “preliminary
schools, either on private or public establishment, could
be distributed in districts through the State, as preparatory to the entrance of students into the University. The
tender age at which this part of education commences,
generally about the tenth year, would weigh heavily with
parents in sending their sons to a school so distant as
the central establishment would be from most of them.
Districts of such extent as that every parent should be
within a day’s journey of his son at school, would be
desirable in cases of sickness, and convenient for supplying their ordinary wants, and might be made to lessen
sensibly the expense of this part of their education.” Jefferson’s desire to keep children close to home may speak
to his own experiences both as a child and as a parent
that spent lengthy amounts of time from his family, at
considerable distances, due to his governmental service.
30
Heath, 13-14.
31
Notes was largely written in 1781, expanded in
1782-3 and first published in France under the sponsorship of Jefferson in 1784. The entire text is reprinted,
without the graphics, in Koch and Peden, 173-267, and
will subsequently be referenced as Jefferson.
32
Jefferson, 243.
33
Jefferson, 246.
34
Addis, 1.
35
Heath, 193.
36
Intercolumniation, the contemporary word for
for Jefferson’s cited term, is, “the distance between the
centres of the bases of adjacent columns measured in
multiples of column diameters.” Fleming, 285.
37
Jefferson, 248-9.
38
Jefferson, 249-251.
39
Anne M. Lucas, “Ordering His Environment:
Thomas Jefferson’s Architecture from Monticello to the
University of Virginia” (M.A. thesis, University of Virginia,
1989), 7.
40
Thomas Jefferson to James Madison, Paris,
September 20, 1785, E-text.
41
Buford Pickens, “Mr. Jefferson as Revolutionary Architect,” The Journal of the Society of Architectural
Historians 34, no. 4 (1975): 259.
42
Hugh Howard, Thomas Jefferson Architect: The
Built Legacy of Our Third President (New York: Rizzoli,
2003), 42.
43
Pickens, 277. argues that Jefferson did not visit
Vicenza or Rome because he was more concerned with
visiting contemporary developments in architecture. I
would argue that Jefferson’s explorations were a reflec-
tion of both time constraints and priorities: Jefferson
was visually familiar with the architecture of the Veneto
and Rome through engravings in architectural books.
Although not equivalent to firsthand experience, Jefferson possibly viewed a broad agenda for his architectural
travels that included the lesser known or undocumented
edifices of the Netherlands, Germany, and England. This
theory asserts the claim by Wilson, 671: Jefferson tended
to take his knowledge of the world from books rather
than direct experience.
44
Jefferson letter to Madame La Comtesse de
Tesse. Nîmes,1787. E-text.
45
Jefferson letter to James Madison. Paris, 1785.
E-text.
46
For the full text of Jefferson’s May 6, 1810 letter
addressed to Messrs. Hugh L. White and Others of East
Tennessee College see Peterson, Thomas Jefferson Writings, 1222-3.
47
Jefferson never visit Rome, Tivoli, Cambridge or
Oxford but would be familiar with ancient Roman town
design from books and it is likely he was familiar with
institutional design in England given his circle of contemporaries and knowledge of contemporary design.
48
Thomas Jefferson to Littleton Waller Tazewell,
Washington, January 5, 1805 in Peterson, Thomas Jefferson Writings,1152.
49
See item 18 in Thomas Jefferson, “A Bill for
Establishing a System of Public Education,” October 24,
1817, E-text.
50
Vitruvius’ text is the only surviving architectural
treatise from ancient times; if drawings accompanied the
treatise they were not preserved. Jefferson possessed a
Latin version, Vitruvius Pollio, and Perrault’s translation
of the text. For more information see William Bainter
O’Neal, Jefferson’s Fine Arts Library: His Selections for the
University of Virginia Together with His Own Architectural Books (Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press,
1976), 367-70.
51
Vitruvius. Ten Books on Architecture. trans.,
Ingrid Rowland and Thomas Noble Howe (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999) I.I.
52
Thomas Jefferson to Edward Livingston, Monticello, 1825, E-text.
53
Thomas Jefferson to Thomas Ritchie, article for
the Richmond Enquirer “Central College A letter from
a correspondent of the Editor of the Enquirer,” Warm
Springs August 1817, E-text. Jefferson was well acquainted with Thomas Richie of the Enquirer and sent him a
letter asking for publicity for Central College in order to
further their efforts. For the full text of the letter see
E-text. Ritchie proved to be an advocate of public education: he would later print Jefferson’s 1818 proposed bill
for education in hopes of bolstering support. In December of 1818, Jefferson cancelled all newspaper subscriptions expect that to the Richmond Enquirer.
54
Dumas Malone, Jefferson and His Time: The
Sage of Monticello (Boston: Little Brown and Company,
1981), 245.
55
Peterson, Thomas Jefferson Writings, 457-473.
56
The first lawsuit against the University was filed
by James Oldham in 1823 for payment for carpentry
work. See Gizzard, ”To Exercise a Sound Discretion: the
University of Virginia and its First Lawsuit,” E-text.
57
Addis, 95.
58
For Jefferson’s full report see E-text.
59
Addis, 106; see note 146. The cost of the Ro-
tunda was an estimated $200,000.
60
Barrett, 5-12. The Rotunda was finished to
Jefferson’s specifications with the exception of the
planetarium intended for the ceiling of the dome. Jefferson’s Rotunda stood only until the famous fire of 1895
and was replaced with the reinterpreted designs of the
architectural firm of McKim, Meade, and White. For the
bicentennial of the nation, the Rotunda was restored to
Jefferson’s original scheme in plan and section; that year
the American Institute of Architects called the University,
“the proudest achievement in American architecture.”
Addis, 144. See the AIA Journal 65 (July 1976), 91.
61
Thomas Jefferson to Maria Hadfield Cosway,
Monticello, October 24, 1822, E-text.
62
Malone, 408. Lafayette spent ten days with Jefferson at Monticello during his visit and apparently spent
a considerable amount of time touring the grounds of
the University.
63
See Sara Bon-Harper, “Monticello’s West
Portico Steps: New Archeological Evidence,” Monticello
Department of Archaeology Technical Report Series no.
4, Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, 2001, 1-3.
64
For a history of the October Riots see Addis,
119 and Charles Coleman Wall Jr., “Students and Student
Life at the University of Virginia 1825-1861,” (PhD diss.,
University of Virginia, 1978) 148-158.
65
Britton, 39.
66
For example, James Oldham, John Neilson, and
James Dinsmore were employed at both sites.
67
See Bon-Harper’s report.
68
Thomas Jefferson to the Board of Visitors, Monticello, September 30, 1821, E-Text.
69
In notes to the University’s Board of Visitors
and in the Rockfish Gap Report Jefferson continually
refers to the sons of Virginia; although this was common
terminology it holds a particular meaning in respect to
the heirless Jefferson.
70
Thomas Jefferson Randolph to David Hosack,
Monticello , August 13, 1826. Family Letters Project,
Thomas Jefferson Foundation, 2006.
71
Martha Jefferson Randolph to Ann Cary Morris,
Monticello, August 8, 1825. Family Letters Project.
72
Malone, 494.
73
Rick Britton, “Unhappy Endings: Edgar Allan
Poe’s Time at U.Va,” Albemarle, October-November
(1999): 40.
74
Edgar Allan Poe, Letter to John Allen 21 September 1826. Transcription of a manuscript, Valentine
Museum, Richmond, Virginia. E-text.
75
Britton, 39.
76
For example, Crawford’s Twilight at Monticello
(2008) states that young Poe was at Jefferson’s graveside
in 1826. This fact is unsupported by any direct writing of
Poe or the Jefferson family.
77
Edgar Allan Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher,” Charlottesville: Rector and Visitors of the University
of Virginia, 1999. http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/ebooks/
pdf/PoeFall.pdf
78
A contemporary example would be the preservation of Sir John Soane’s Museum in London in 1836
through an Act of Parliament initiated by Sir John Soane
before his death. The architect wanted to preserve his
unusual home and contained collections for posterity.
Arguably, Monticello did not have a similar fact because
there was no formal governmental service like the
National Park Service or a national trust to entrust the
home to nor did Jefferson have the financial ability to
take on any measures of preservation.
79
In addition to Pliny, Jefferson knew of ancient
villa design from Adam Dickson’s two volume Husbandry
of the Ancients and Robert Castell’s Villas of the Ancient
Illustrated. Lucas, 8.
80
See Robert F. Dalzell, Jr., “Constructing Independence: Monticello, Mount Vernon, and the Men Who
Built Them,” Eighteenth-Century Studies 26, no. 4 (1993):
559.
81
Thomas Jefferson to Maria Cosway, Paris, October 12, 1786, E-text. See Malcolm Kelsall, Jefferson and
the Iconography of Romanticism (New York: St. Martin’s
Press, 1999), 112, for further discussion.
82
The property on which the Lawn is situated was
purchased in part from John M. Perry; part of the land
contract stated that Perry would be commissioned for,
“all the Carpenter’s and House joiner’s work of the said
pavilion as shall be prescribed to him.” See Frank Edgar
Gizzard Jr., “Documentary History of the Construction of
the Buildings at the University of Virginia, 1817-1828,”,
ch. 1, E-text.
83
Clifton Walker Barrett, The Struggle to Create
University: University of Virginia Founder’s Day Address
13 April 1973. Charlottesville, Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, 1973, 8-9.
84
Thomas Jefferson to Doctor Wistar, Washington, June 21, 1807, E-text.
85
Margaret Bayard Smith to Anna Bayard Boyd
and Jane Bayard Kirkpatrick, August 12, 1828 in Frank
Edgar Gizzard Jr., “Three Grand & Interesting Objects: An
1828 Visit to Monticello, the University and Montpelier,”
E-text.
86
See the Monticello: house (study plan), before
1770, held by the Massachusetts Historical Society, N27.
87
For Jefferson’s observation from his English
garden tours transcribed in Thomas Whately’s 1770
Observations on Modern Gardening April 1-April 26 1786
see Edwin Morris Betts, ed, Thomas Jefferson’s Garden
Book (Charlottesville: Thomas Jefferson Foundation,
2008), 110-114.
88
Betts, 196-197.
89
Wilson, 72, discusses the current planting
scheme on the Lawn
90
Bell, 19.
91
Dalzell discusses this air of ‘unreality’ at Monticello is his article.
92
Charlottesville is on the western edge of the
Piedmont Plateau and has deeply weathered bedrock
due to the humid climate. This has produced the highly
acidic loam soils know as the Davidson clay loam, and
Congaree and Nason silt clay loams. See the Charlottesville Soil Survey for additional information. The brick
kilns for Monticello were located at the base of the
mountain and those of the University were on the steep
east side of the site, not at present day ‘Mad Bowl’ as often stated. See the letter of John Hartwell Cocke, Jr to his
father on August 27, 1819 in Frank Edgar Gizzard Jr., “A
Young Scholar’s Glimpses of the Charlottesville Academy
and the University of Virginia in August 1819,” Magazine
of Albemarle County History 54 (1996), E-Text.
93
Thanks to Bill Beiswanger and his analysis of
archeological and geological reports conducted by the
Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation on the original
height of Monticello.
94
William Alexander Lambeth and Warren H.
Manning, Thomas Jefferson as an Architect and Designer
of Landscapes. ed. Frank Edgar Gizzard, Jr. (Boston:
Houghton Mifflin, 1913), E-text. Michele and Giacomo
Raggi arrived in June of 1819 to carve marble capitols
and bases. Gizzard, “A Young Scholar’s Glimpses of the
Charlottesville Academy and the University of Virginia in
August 1819” E-text.
95
Lambeth and Manning, E-text.
96
The original tension rods were wrought iron.
97
The structural failure of the balcony of Pavilion
I on May 18, 1997, graduation day, cannot go unnoted.
The nineteen tension rods of the pavilion balconies were
annually inspected and during the major restoration of
1986-8, any with visible damage were replaced. However, under the extreme load imposed by observers to the
graduation parade down the Lawn the northernmost rod
broke and the wooden structure of the balcony could not
support the weight. The collapse of one third of the balcony resulted in seventeen injuries and one fatality. Since
the collapse, all of the tension rods have been inspected
and replaced as necessary.
98
The dome of the Church of Saint-Phillippe du
Roule and Halle au Ble Paris grain market were both
constructed in the Delorme manner. Jefferson’s use of
the Delorme manner had an impression on the young architect Robert Mills considering his Monumental Church
in Richmond, VA, constructed in 1813, used the Delorme
method.
99
Douglas Harnsberger, “ ‘In Delorme’s Manner...’
An X-Ray Probe of Jefferson’s Dome at Monticello Reveals an Ingenious 16th-Century Timber Vault Construction Concealed within the Dome’s Sheathing,” Bulletin
of the Association for Preservation Technology 13, no. 4
(1981): 7. The nailery at Monticello initiated production
sometime before May 1794; the dome was constructed
in 1800.
100
Robert Silman Associates. “ University of Virginia Rotunda Historic Structure Report.” Robert Silman
Associates Structural Engineers. RSA project no. W1821
submitted 13 August 2007, 18.
101
The current dome of the Rotunda is a much
more traditional construction: a single shell with thick
tiles and large mortar joints. The current dome was
designed by Raphael Guastavino of the Guastavino Fireproof Construction Company. Robert Silman Associates,
18.
102
Outram, 37.
103
Susan R. Stein and John B. Rudder, “Lighting
Jefferson’s Monticello: Considering the Past, Present, and
Future,“ APT Bulletin 31, no. 1 (2000): 21.
104
Stein, 21.
105
Malone, 394.
106
Although Jefferson wrote “the octagonal dome
has an ill effect, both within and without” in regards to
Chiswick the similarities of the home to Monticello is
inescapable. See Betts, 111.
107
Octagonal forms became more prevalent in
Early Christian architecture. Centralized spaces were
common in ancient architecture, as advocated by Vitruvius, but they were typically pure round forms.
108
Jefferson owned first and second editions of
the Leoni’s version of Palladio and probably a copy with
Inigo Jones’ notations. See O’Neal for the full catalogue
entries of Jefferson’s architectural books.
109
For further discussion on the design alterations
see David Bell, “Knowledge and the Middle Landscape:
Thomas Jefferson’s University of Virginia,” JAE 37, no.
2(1983): 19-20.
110
William L. Beiswanger, “Thomas Jefferson and
the Art of Living Out of Doors,” Magazine Antiques 157,
no. 4 (2000): 599.
111
John Metz, “Archeological Investigation of the
Garden Terrace, Kitchen Dependency and Corner Terraces,” (Monticello Department of Archaeology Technical
Report Series no. 1, Thomas Jefferson Memorial Foundation, 2000), 65.
112
Metz, 5.
113
Thomas Jefferson to William Thornton, Monticello, May 9, 1817, E-text.
114
I thank the William R. Kenan, Jr. Professor of
Architecture, Peter Waldman, for this insight.
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