She
was thirteen. Like most young folk these days her complete attention
was being given to her tablet. It was an object of desire that she
had saved for. The Apple iPad had replaced the Google Nexus merely
for its reputation and status, not because of any inadequacy,
functional failure or some other operational disappointment. Most of
her classmates had the school-recommended, bulk-discounted Nexus, so
owning an iPad was a matter of pure prestige. The instrument had
changed her, given her a superciliousness that was a concern. It
seemed to have made her bolder, more brazen, self-assured – ME: the
‘notice ME’ syndrome; and my Apple.
She
had just picked the iPad up with the most natural of spontaneous
movements, with a nonchalant ease, like her sitting down, and opened
a site with an automated, anticipatory, gentle gesture: a simple hand
wave, almost dismissive of the rest of the world with its suggestive,
latent arrogance. One could not but notice that she had opened up a
photographic log. Perhaps it was one of her social media sites? The
images seemed to be of young folk: friends? – such was their
‘selfie-like’ posed, very self-conscious camera attitudes. She
opened the images progressively, casting an assessing eye over each
photograph, touching the screen briefly with a casual prodding action
and a determined indifference, and then flicking one image on with a
swiping gesture without any obvious emotion, to reveal yet another
snapshot in the gallery. Again, the finger thrust at this different
identity and then whipped it away just as efficiently, almost
carelessly. Each photograph was given about two seconds attention
before it was touched and moved aside. Was the prodding a mark of
approval, a ‘LIKE,’ or something else? There appeared to be some
intention here.
Whatever
the circumstance, the astonishment was that so little attention was
being given to each image prior to making what seemed to be a final
assessment of it and then moving on to the next photograph, to do
likewise again. Or was the surprise that assessments could be compiled almost instantly? Were the young eyes somehow able to view the whole,
and the agile mind able to assess and comprehend the image in its
completeness all within what seemed like an amazingly, impossibly
short period that made one question the limits of perception? There
was something seemingly brushed aside here with the haste shown.
Open-look-prod-flick all took less than three seconds, again and
again. It was truly relentless, almost ruthless, reckless; a
remarkable feat. What were these images? One never looked closely
enough to know, as it is indeed rude to read over another’s
shoulder or to become involved with another’s engagement with a
tablet. These events all happened before one’s eyes as other
conversations continued; they were impossible not to notice. Yet
something happened here that was remarkable.
It
was intriguing. The speed of recognition and determination, the racy
skill, the certainty, was alarming. Do all young folk act in this
manner? Does youth now make instant, immediate decisions on
everything? Equally, is everything expected to be there immediately,
on demand whenever, wherever? Where is the careful review, analysis
and reverie, the conscientious consideration that once became the basis for
all action and response? Where is the questioning, the doubt? Are we
now in an era of fast reactions and instantaneous outcomes: immediate
fancies and fast futures? Once there were theories that not only
managed action but also the outcomes. They shaped ideas and
ideals that prompted careful, considered thought. Where are these
today? Have today’s strategies and expectations given rise to the
Gehry/Hadid flippancies, of immediate fancies for fast futures that
engage others in MY visions, MY genius?
There
was a time not too long ago when theories in architecture drove
intentions and ambitions. The work of Christopher Alexander sets a
good example of how matters have moved over time, from his first
theorising in Notes on the Synthesis of Form to that of this
day with his beautiful study, The Nature of Order that,
inexplicably, has been put to one side, flicked away, almost ignored
as an irrelevance by the profession that did embrace his Pattern
Language series for a short period. Architecture is so flippant
with its attentions. There was once a serious stance given to
possibilities and impacts that held a humming intensity and quiet
energy in both work and texts. Alexander’s Order embodies
this in its wholeness: the writing about feeling and sense in form –
its wonder, beauty, and its logic; experience. Matters were once
considered, analysed, reviewed, discussed, debated. Theories were
developed to deliberate on pasts and to drive futures. There was a
strident intellectual sense to this; nothing bold or arrogant, but
something caring and committed to some ideal beyond a simplistic,
aesthetic self-interest. Architecture held something vital, serious;
possibilities that needed to be revealed, captured, embodied in the
best possible way, as a vision – a responsibility. Was this all too
grand in its ambitions to endure? Today things appear to have
de-materialised, become a haze of entertaining, emotional
expectations engaging matters uniquely different and dramatic,
bespoke – forms for MY sake rather than for anything else. ‘I
make what I feel for others to google at’ seems to be the slogan:
hashtag architecture where I make the hashtags for all to follow and
‘LIKE’ – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2015/03/architecture-as-tweets-twitter-period.html
Does
technological change drive these attitudes? Every day we are told
that there is a new gadget. Samsung even promotes its tomorrow now:
NEXT IS NOW. The future is promoted as almost tumbling upon itself,
being here, there, before it can ever be. It is like the new forms
and styles being presented as the ‘future’ house or car; that
their being here might not be the present, now, (although it is), but
something else yet to come. Samsung has the ‘yet to come’ now
too. We are given gadgets to let us achieve these tomorrows
immediately; to let us achieve any ambitions straightaway, even to
better every expectation beyond whatever might be envisaged. We are
shown how clever we can be. Critiques are never given time to develop
in this rush, this burst of technological energy that seems similar
to that of a brisk chemical reaction – unstoppable, with its own
defined outcomes and involvements. With this scenario, does this
circumstance create our identities and expectations, our forms today?
Is it this centring on self, individuals, that enhances our visions
of MY work, MY thoughts?
Social
media turns everyone into a unit, a unique genius, an opinion: ME and
MY world - MYSELFIE. I am the centre of the universe, along with
everyone else thinking likewise about themselves while carelessly
perusing others. We have been made units, isolated individuals rather
than organic communities. Consideration for others has been turned
into statements of hate, bullying, rather than any good-Samaritan
gesture of concern. Such care and consideration has lost its place
and sense in our era. Little wonder that architecture has become the
place of statements – MY statement, MY vision, MY difference - just
as any blurb on social media stands alone in a collage of individual
pieces that never become a whole, never refer to one, and are never
concerned with one. The global village has become the global ME,
blurting out opinions and forms and ideas for other MEs to admire.
Where are those ideals envisaged by other eras? Where is the
architecture that has its tendrils meandering through history, life
itself; through thinking, feeling inclusively; enriching places and
persons with an organic integrity that astonishes; marvels?
3D printed house
One
has to think more about these issues. It has happened; we are there
NOW: we even might have got there prematurely, before it might have
happened, the ‘Samsung’ way. One cannot yearn for other times
gone to be resurrected or re-enacted, but one can ask how this
feeling for immediate fancies and fast futures can best be managed in
order to achieve old ambitions of spirit and quality rather than
merely sitting back and letting its momentum manage us; e.g. in the
way technology has created a new enthusiasm for 3D printed houses. It
is too easy to delight in the astonishing developments of the last
few years – they truly are astounding; amazing. One can think back,
say, ten years, to 2005, and even to before this time to see a
greater contrast, and remember how things were then compared to now.
Who sharpens a pencil now; who cares how Frank Lloyd Wright used to
sharpen his pencil with lead on thumb and knife working backwards
towards the thumb as the fingers skilfully rolled the pencil. Has
anyone living worked with ink on linen? Could anyone draw an
Ordinance Survey map today? Dare one even think of Blake working on
copper recreating his pen-and-ink drawing in precise, engraved
reverse detail? Real skill is needed here: body and mind intertwined,
involved in the outcome.
Frank Lloyd Wright
Just scrawl?
Ordinance Survey Map
William Blake Job Evil Dreams
Today,
we have all been swept up in this exponential wave of changing
change. Has anyone asked if it is desirable? How do we now take
control of this? It will be difficult, as the hype of change is upon
us daily, with manufacturers and developers pushing things ever new
onto us, telling us that things will be and can be better – faster,
thinner, cheaper, etc., only if we discard the old of yesterday and
lust after and purchase today’s new gadget, or move onto the new
‘platform’ after rejecting everything used previously. Where are
we? Where are we going? The cliché response is ‘forward,’ but to
where? Oblivion?
Apple
once had an inclusive development programme with all new programmes
able to incorporate previous ones; but it has learned how to profit
from change that is exclusive, that needs constant upgrades that
degrade most existing systems, making them irrelevant, useless.
The
saddest outcome with these differences is the loss of any respect for
drawing, sketching, freehand work of any kind, even handwriting.
These forms of fast, expressive communication made directly by the
mind and body with simple, basic instruments are now seen as messy
and irrelevant, second rate, unreliable, imperfect. Some Councils
refuse to accept freehand drawings any more. How might this change us
– our simple skills and our thinking? Has the body to learn a new
way of feeling for the facts of expression of thought and form? What
has to happen? What should happen? Does it make sense to let
life-changing events occur at their own momentum, as if they are in
control of us?
We
are all swimming in the surf, being tossed around by everything
involved in the new, its urge to ‘progress.’ We need to learn to
manage our direction in this foam of fast movement, perpetual
turbulence. We need to find the stillness of the depths in new
theories, in thoughts on architecture today rather than leaving
ourselves open to fleeting and immediate fancies that are tossing us
about, throwing us into an unknown future: but aren’t most futures,
by definition, unknown? Here we have an unmanaged one. Can any future
be managed? I think of walking. What does one do about the next step?
Its outcome is unknown, but every muscle in our being, our thinking,
is involved in ensuring that the outcome is as anticipated. What
might happen if every step is all surprises? We have this
circumstance now, but to what avail? We need to know our past; it is
more than ever critical, as Gropius pointed out many years ago in his
Scope of Total Architecture.
Living
in the present is something that religions see as advantageous –
the eternal NOW; but we seem to be living in an eternal future, the
‘beyond NOW,’ always at least one step ahead of ourselves or
wishing for it to be so; sometimes ‘ten years’ ahead - (c.f.
Wittgenstein on scientific predictions, ‘as if this were
necessarily so’). We need to spend more time in our present rather
than dreaming of and hoping for ever newer, smarter, slicker,
cleverer futures, somewhere ahead of us in time as we ‘move
forward’ cliché-like at full speed not knowing where or how. One
sees the likeness with lemmings. The search needs to be for a silent
stillness; contentment – see:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2016/12/are-smart-cities-numb-to-possibilities.html
There
was a recent commentator who was arguing that children today are
brighter than ever. One has to know more about how this analysis has
been gauged before one can comment, but being fast and flicky does
not necessarily mean anything at all beyond some clever physical
finger trait. Where might reverie lead us: ideas? - considered
futures not being pushed by illusions of ‘progress’ that have
outdone any ‘Dick Tracy’ vision: consider the digital watch.
Being ‘clever’ is what we need to become on a broader, more
inclusive and meaningful basis – smarter with our understandings;
more critical of our ambitions; our intentions; our visions; our
questions. We need more theories: and for this to be possible, to be
useful, we need more thought about architecture and its role in
society as a cultural identity. It is the flicky thoughtlessness that
seems to be our current problem: our careless lack of reverie and
review; our indulgent self-interest; our immediate, dismissive
assessments of life that are oblivious of all pasts and futures.
So what are the
‘theories’ today? In the Abedian School of Architecture seminar
at Bond University – see
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2016/11/we-need-new-planning-for-habitation-am.html
– the thinking behind the new work presented was summarised and
commented upon:
'The form of the leaf is the function of the leaf; the function of the leaf is the form of the leaf'
- after Louis Sullivan who used the rose for his example
The general theory of
this new work can be summed up as: community/ society/ social/
environmental/ ‘green’/ daylight/ ventilation/ affordable. One
does not know much about the latter other than the word and the
intent. Perhaps this work is more expensive than other? Why is there
nothing deeper in the ideals than this odd list of perhaps and maybe;
ordinary functional ambitions that are almost trite in the order of
matters subtle and meaningful? How can meaning be held?
The question of the
depth of this thinking is relevant. The issues that were itemised by
the speakers are those traditional ‘functional’ matters that all
architecture attends to. There is nothing in this analysis of
so-called guiding principles that tells about matters of form, or
image, or identity; there is nothing that has to do with personal
emotions or feelings; there are no guiding ideals for form; there is
nothing that touches anything close to things ‘spiritual.’
Apparent ‘meaning’ is being gleaned from raw necessity, nothing
else, leaving ‘expression’ to be shaped by distracting propaganda
to entertain the eye with things remarkable. Matters with a greater
depth and fineness of feeling are left to one side, to be adapted or ignored as
the individual might randomly choose; to be rationalised likewise in
stories that pretend to frame serious quality and relevance out of
trivia and individual quirkiness – c.f. the Ankor Wat epiphany of
Drew Heath:
http://voussoirs.blogspot.com.au/2016/11/drew-heath-bespoke-details-practise.html
There is a great void in
architecture today that is avoided by the attention given to the
false ‘theories’ and the functional concerns itemised above. This
is not enough to guide, to enrich, to enliven: it is simply
simplistic, almost childish nonsense, fabricated to look meaningful.
Architecture is much more than these basic necessities and personal
stories. Consider architecture of other eras and realise how shallow
our work is; how mundane and less-than-ordinary the work of our era
is as it pretends to be otherwise with a grandiose ignorance and an
astonishing self-importance that drowns simple being and ordinary
experience: consider the blossom (c.f. Dennis Potter’s Malvern
Bragg interview -
https://www.theguardian.com/theguardian/2007/sep/12/greatinterviews
). It will not be until we have true theories that structure depth
and hold relevance that we will get an enduring architecture - see
sidebar for Ruskin quote on fashion and form: FASHIONABLE FORM.
One can only touch on
the suggestive beginnings of this issue by quoting Frank Lloyd
Wright:
Modern Architecture
Let us take for text
this, our fourth afternoon, the greatest of all references to
simplicity, the inspired admonition: “Consider the lilies of the
field - they toil not, neither do they spin, yet verily I say unto
thee - Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”
(Luke 12:27) An inspired saying - attributed to a humble Architect in
ancient times, called Carpenter, who gave up Architecture nearly two
thousand years ago to go to work upon its Source.
Modern Architecture
We have a long way to go
to get back these understandings and to give them sense, relevance
and currency; yet we believe we are better than ever! Our supreme
foolishness belittles everything we touch: we know not what what we
do.
What the people are within, the buildings express without.
Louis Sullivan
Whether it be the
sweeping eagle in his flight, or the open apple-blossom, the toiling
work-horse, the blithe swan, the branching oak, the winding stream at
its base, the drifting clouds, over all the coursing sun, form ever
follows function, and this is the law. Where function does not
change, form does not change. The granite rocks, the ever-brooding
hills, remain for ages; the lightning lives, comes into shape, and
dies, in a twinkling.
It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that the life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function. This is the law.
It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic, of all things physical and metaphysical, of all things human and all things superhuman, of all true manifestations of the head, of the heart, of the soul, that the life is recognizable in its expression, that form ever follows function. This is the law.
Louis Sullivan
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