likewise be discerned in its striving for a precision in molding space, for a harmonious completeness of the whole, and for an unrelenting perfection of thought. The realistic, humanly scaled, and varied art of Rome was filtered through the objectivizing and perfecting prism of Hellas; as a result of such a synthesis, this apex of the "classical" system, its point of culmination, was attained on new ground by new creators. Architects imbued the reality of each new problem with the kind of clarity and subtlety of organizational thought that could only lead them to a brilliant conception of totally new architectural organisms. If the Greek architect found the perfect solution for expressing the clarity and authenticity of his spatial experiences in the form of the longitudinally extended rectangular prism, the Renaissance architect turned his attention to another problem, one encountered only episodically in Greek and Roman art—the problem of the centralized spatial volume. Brunelleschi had already advanced numerous solutions to this problem in the Sacristy of S. Lorenzo and the Pazzi Chapel in Florence, but only Bramante's project for St. Peter's in Rome solved the problem of the centralized volume with Hellenic clarity and precision. Placing smaller elements around the dominating volume to balance it in a manner similar to the exact balancing of the two trays on a scale, he defined their interrelationships not just about a single longitudinal axis but about an infinite number of such axes, preserving the vigor of the scheme in every part of the church. At the same time, compelled by new material needs, the Renaissance architect, instead of adopting either the unified cella of the Greek temple or the disquieting fragmentation of the Roman thermae, learned to divide space into constituent volumes, subordinating them to one another in the expression of a unified conception. What emerged was a clear notion of both the primary elements, which were emphasized, and the secondary ones, which played a subordinate role. In the conception of the house or palace, we encounter an enfilade of chambers, aligned on a common axis and connected by magnificent doorways, enabling the eye to discern their longitudinal progression with absolute clarity. Having adopted the varied system of vaulted ceilings from the Romans, the Renaissance architect rendered them clearly and precisely, in a purely Hellenic fashion. Instead of the disquieting space of the thermae, which extended ambiguously in depth and breadth, we have the palace, where all the opulence and excesses could not undermine the reliability and specificity of the organizational method. At the same time, this new palace was situated around an interior courtyard in accordance with the same principle of balance evident in the lucid system of the centrally planned church. Such are the role and significance of the Renaissance as a style. Having completed the hitherto uncompleted art of the Romans with the precision of the Hellene, the Renaissance was able to make a new architectural statement; whereupon, having fully accomplished its mission, it was bound to die. The ensuing development of vital conditions no longer favored the "classical" system. Numerous characteristics that had still appeared progressive in the Renaissance si sequently caused the downfall of the "classical" system.
If something imperfect still remained in classical art, it was the ambiguous and unsettling sense of pathos issuing from many of the works of ancient Rome. The 66