These 22 columns used to sit on the East Portico
of the United States Capitol building, before
they were moved … here.
And as strange as they are, they’ve got
something in common
with every other Corinthian column.
Something you have to look closer to see.
These are acanthus leaves.
Once you start looking for them, you'll notice
them everywhere.
And  these leaves?
They say something about why we have decorated
columns in the first place.
Okay.
So there are different types, or orders, of
columns you run into in classical architecture.
The most important stuff is at the top part,
on what’s called the “capital.”
The three big orders are Doric — think super
basic.
Ionic: look for the swirly things, called
volutes.
And Corinthian — that’s where you want
to look for the leaves.
Composite is similar, but with the volutes
added in.
It’s a little much.
Corinthian columns probably entered the mix
around 550 BC, but through all these centuries
of change, the ornamentation at the top stayed
the same.
And those leaves?
They tell the columns’ story.
There's a myth behind the acanthus’s appearance
on columns.
It comes from the Roman writer Vitruvius.
His legend was that a young girl died.
In mourning, her nurse put the girl’s favorite
stuff in a basket
and set a tile on top of it.
But the basket was placed on top of an acanthus
plant, which grew leaves that covered the
entire weave.
A sculptor named Callimachus saw it, got inspired,
and invented the Corinthian column.
Yeah, no … sure, Vitruvius.
That’s what happened.
But the myth does speak to what made the acanthus
enduring.
It could grow from root cuttings.
These leaves showed up on Greek columns, though
many are now lost.
They popped up in Roman architecture as the
empire grew.
Some say the Greek and Roman columns had different
acanthus species, but stylization has erased
most of that distinction.
All the Corinthian columns’ versions reflected
the strength of the acanthus.
Eventually, the design of Corinthian column
became strong enough
to support itself through history.
The acanthus wasn’t a given.
This is the plan for the United States Capitol’s
hall of columns.
Along with acanthus, it includes tobacco leaves.
Around the world, columns draw on different
ancient references, but in the West, referencing
classical ornamentation largely means following
the same template.
Often there’s creativity, as in this column
capital at Chartres, but almost always, acanthus
is in the mix.
These leaves don’t just symbolize the strength
of a plant.
They’ve come to represent the endurance
of a culture’s design.
The Capitol building’s current columns still feature ornate
acanthus leaves.
These columns were removed from the Capitol.
But acanthus leaves?
They may never be replaced.
So Vitruvius’s real interest in these columns
was probably more in the proportions than
in the leaves.
That makes sense when you know that he is
the person who was behind the Vitruvian man.
This guy.
It feels like I’m dancing now.
