Classical architecture of the 20th/21st centuries consists largely of clusters of spaces or rooms within, without distinction, wrapped in an archaic skin, like a bottle of booze in Christmas wrapping: Looking at the outside tends not to speak to what you will find inside. There may be a royal entrance, but beyond that, not much, just run-of-the-mill blank, malleable space.
The ultimate Classical building still standing, St. Peter's Basilica, is true to form inside and out, from Bramante's plan, to Michelangelo's dome, to Bernini's interior dÃƒÂ©cor, to Pope Benedict's red leather pumps. What is Proto-Fascistic about the building is strictly its scale.
In 1864, Henrik Ibsen went to Rome to research his play "Emperor And Galilean." On a stroll through the city, he happened upon St. Peter's, and decided to go inside for a look. Upon experiencing the enormity of the place, he immediately set aside all he had been working on, including "Brand," conceived as an epic poem, rewriting it as a 5-act prose play. The Ice Church, a mountain lake, perpetually in a frozen state, covered over with an accumulation of snow spanning the mountaintops, with a vast vaulted space between, and which ultimately collapses down upon the village below, was based on the basilica. So this concept of intimidating by dint of vastness was not new, even before Valois.