In 1828 a series of designs for churches in the new suburbs of Berlin, several of them executed in reduced form in the early thirties, showed a drastic shift away from Classical models—still sometimes offered as alternatives and actually executed in two cases—towards the creation of a very personal sort of _Rundbogenstil_. All intended to be of brick with terracotta trim, these were less successful than the house he built of the same materials for the brick and terracotta manufacturer Feilner in Berlin in 1829. In its perfect regularity and rigid trabeation this recalled the rear of the Museum (Figure 7). But the employment of delicate arabesque reliefs in the jambs of the openings, quite in the _quattrocento_ way, illustrated rather more agreeably than the church projects the characteristic modulation in these years away from Grecian and towards Italianate models. [Illustration: Figure 7. Karl Friedrich von Schinkel: Berlin, Feilner House, 1829, elevation ] The happiest and most informal example of this modulation is to be seen in the Court Gardener’s House on the Charlottenhof estate of 1829-31 (Plate 14A). The closely associated Tea House and Roman Bath of 1833-4 loosely enclose the square rear garden at the junction of two canals. As the plan of the house itself clearly reveals, this was not a new construction but a remodelling, or encasing, of an earlier gardener’s house; but more important to the total effect than the original solid block is the skilful disposition of the clearly defined voids in the three-dimensional composition, voids which include pergolas of varying height, loggias, and even an open attic below the main roof. On the one hand, the inspiration for this must have come from Durand’s illustrations of the ‘employment of the objects of nature’ or perhaps from other French works[51] more specifically dealing with Italian buildings in the countryside. On the other hand, rather more than most English Italian Villas in the line of Nash’s Cronkhill, this seems to be based on some real knowledge of Italian rural, not to say rustic, building. But visually, as at Cronkhill and at Glienecke, the pivot of the whole composition is the tower around which the various elements, solid and hollow, are as carefully organized as in a piece of twentieth-century Neoplasticist sculpture. This Gardener’s House is as much the international masterwork of the asymmetrically-towered Italian Villa mode, one of the more modest yet extremely significant innovations of the first half of the nineteenth century, as is the Altes Museum of formal Grecian Classicism.