All the architectural grandeur of the Renaissance Europe is brilliantly celebrated in Charlemont's subtle and deceptively simple villa, the Casino, at Marino, outside Fairview, in Dublin. Its simple exterior conceals an ingeniously complex interior far larger than one would expect, comprising some 16 rooms of varying sizes over four floors.
Displaying the grace and mystery of a Chinese box, it is a cubic block executed throughout in Portland stone, with the material contributing to its character. Though highly sculptural and symbolic, this formal celebration of the architect's art is surprisingly unintimidating and although ornamental is not a folly, it is clearly a residence. In keeping with its creator's quest for symmetry based on a Greek-cross plan with four equal arms, clever tricks were played with the windows, some of which are false. Light and space are the dominant qualities. The decoration is often lavish, yet somehow the overall affect is pleasingly uncluttered.
Although its original atmosphere of seclusion has been eroded by an expanding capital, the Casino remains private. In keeping with Charlemont's original vision, no stone walls protect it from the public, yet there are no gardens. This most wonderful and welcoming of buildings is set in plain lawn via a humble approach. As architectural historian Maurice Craig has so correctly observed "never on a building so small can more care have been expended". It is a structure continually urging the viewer to look and be rewarded. Viewed at night, it stands out white against the dark sky with an almost chill grace, but in daylight the villa loses that austerity while retaining its gentle elegance.
Its temple-like appearance is a monument to Charlemont's obvious love of Italy and classical form. Chambers's design is perfection, as is the sculptural work of Simon Vierpyl who also supervised the project, as Chambers never visited Ireland. Work began about 1760 and money would always be a problem.
The Casino, with its lions, stone garlands and urns appears to rise like a work of art on a pedestal, an effect created by the wide steps. Entered through a simple oak door, deliberately unpainted in order to allow the wood in time to merge with the stone, it immediately captivates. Inside the hall is a dramatic space with a wealth of architectural detail and decoration. In Charlemont's time it would have been further enhanced by his paintings and sculpture. At the centre of the ceiling decoration is the lyre of Apollo, god of the muses.
Throughout, the plaster frieze links motifs of urns and garlands framing images of musical instruments. The eye moves from the ceiling to the parquet floor incorporating various exotic woods in geometric designs. The saloon, the main room, is remarkable and far more appealing than the opulent, vast and rather extravagant state room of the first floor - more Vierpyl's touch than that of Chambers.
Though ostentatious it, is comfortable. Also charming are the smaller rooms known as the China Closet and the Zodiac Room. Whimsy and style in the Casino are invariably balanced by practicality. Exhilarating conversations must have been shared here by Charlemont and his guests.
It is sad to discover that within 60 years of his death his temple had fallen into decline and by the 20th century was desperately in need of rescue. Preservation and survival were made possible with the passing of The Monuments Act of 1930, devised to include 18th-century buildings in general.
The Casino was recognised as a national monument and came into State care.
Some repair-work was carried out during the 1950s and 60s, but formal conservation began in 1974 and continued for a decade. It remains a glorious achievement comparable to another Irish masterpiece evoking European influences, Cormac's Chapel on the Rock of Cashel, Co Tipperary.