This video from City Beautiful explains the realities of homelessness in American cities and proposes practical and humane solutions for ending it. They ask us to view homelessness as a crisis facing vulnerable people in need of help, and encourage compassion by providing affordable housing for the homeless and those at risk of becoming homeless due to an absence of affordable housing. Citing the success of Finland, City Beautiful makes a case for using a “housing first” strategy rather than a “treatment first” strategy. It is much easier to get clean and find a job with shelter.
When architects address this issue, given limited city budgets and even limited tolerance from adjacent homeowners, camouflage rather than exhibitionism makes the most amount of sense for affordable housing. One of the reasons for Pruitt-Igoe’s monumental failure was that its designers tried to create a “machine for living” rather than a “home for living.” Forms of such housings should emphasize contextually generic sameness in order to encourage empathy rather than emphasize poverty. If the design should contain aspirational aspects, they should be expressed as subtly as possible.
Kindness from the neighbors can be elicited only if affordable housings are anti-monuments. Architects involved in affordable housing or homeless shelters should prioritize compassion and understanding above all else. Also, as compassionate citizens, we should support government candidates who support the “housing first” approach to homelessness and are willing to commit money to make it happen.
This is my fictional design for a September 11, 2001 Memorial. The project is an inward-facing midrise building located a few blocks away from the site of the massacre in New York. The massing of the memorial is formed with cubes of varying sizes that represent different but equally important individuals. Indexing a rapid erasure with the absence of a defined corner, individual modules form a unified whole as a cohesive unit. This memorial recognizes the coming together of a nation after a crisis of unimaginable magnitude; expressed through an architectural manifestation of hope and defiance.
In June 29, 2020 Archinect interview with Mónica Ponce de León (the current dean of Princeton University’s School of Architecture) addressed systematic inequality in the profession of architecture, and cited a statistic that in this profession, only 2% of architects are Black.
David Adjaye wanted his students to have nonstandard artistic sensibilities. As an example, his oeuvre frequently has connections to traditional African arts and crafts for textural definitions and tectonic patterns. His Moscow School of Management also sought to connect cultural heritage through bold massing by utilizing Kazmir Malevich’s Suprematist paintings. Although his reach into art to inspire formal gestures play pivotal roles in his designs, Adjaye is a traditional definition of the architect as a master builder: as evidenced by his numerous built projects and from the publication of his book “Form Heft and Material.”
In his Princeton design studio, he took a nurturing perspective toward my concept of framing mundane views of the site with grand tectonic gestures. He understood that there was poetry in capturing and celebrating the everyday sights and encouraged me to always consider the human scale and experience of architecture as the driving force in making spaces and forms.
I did not request to be in his studio because of the color of his skin, but because his approach to architecture was beautiful and elegant. However, being his student as a minority man, gave me a sense of pride and strength that I did not anticipate. David Adjaye remains one of the most influential instructors I learned from, and I feel fortunate to have had the tutelage of a man who surely overcame prejudices and discrimination to rise to the level of a master architect.
I was as an invited critic for Cal Poly Pomona’s second-year architecture studio’s final project presentation on May 4, 2020. The program for the studio was a tower for the architecture department, situated within the university. The students developed individual designs that aimed to express formal affects that exemplifies the qualities of an institution through expressive envelopes and structures. As is the case for the majority of academic projects, this was an exercise in fictional commission proposed to advance the design skills of the students without the concerns of real-world construction. The drawings, renderings, models, and diagrams are the realities that manifest themselves from a fictional proposition, absent of a committee of clients, consultants, a budget, and the government. The omission of such criteria is necessary for architectural design education so that critical design thinking is developed without overwhelming the students. Fictional studio projects in schools allow these projects to take on an expansive scale of design execution and engages the minds of the students to think in terms of grand gestures.
Fiction in architecture often ends for most of these students after they graduate and start working in offices. While there are avenues in architectural discipline to pursue unbuilt projects for pure research or creative endeavors, often fictional propositions only exercise their virtual status only in terms of being unbuilt. An extreme position that all architectural values are fictional has been taken by Peter Eisenman, and I took that statement to offer a possibility that fiction offers an opportunity for architecture that parallels literary fiction or other cultural projects that do not concern themselves with the projection of the real. This mode of thinking is contrary to the value system in architectural representation dating back to the advent of perspective drawings -which sought to bring the real even into pictorial representations. Instead of obsession with the real, architects such as Daniel Libeskind has created musical drawings such as Chamber Works in the early 1980s that celebrated fiction in architecture beyond mere simulacrum. Music is not concerned with representing the noises that are real in nature; musical scores create a fiction of noise that tells a nonlinguistic narrative. Just as there is a separation of values between noise and music, architectural fictional propositions can have a system of value that elevates the virtual to fiction and go beyond the binary privileging of the built over the unbuilt.
Fiction in architecture, when compared to other fictive arts, can be seen to have levels of developments beyond the initial step of the unbuilt. It can be fiction just by the fact that it is a design exploration without being an actual built project. However, a layering of aspects that create unforseen narrative potentials can help architects elevate our discipline as one concerned more with cultural productions rather than engineered products. Architecture school projects often establish the initial fictional aspects, but only few students embrace expressions of narratives that push the definition of fiction from mere falsehood to the those with potentials akin to the literary or the musical. The privileging of the real (built buildings) over the fiction (works such as Libeskind’s Chamber Works) is deeply ingrained and difficult to overcome. Only through the effects of the projects that offer narratives that are not possible within the constraints of the real, can such privileging of the binary value system be overcome.
Artist Ellsworth Kelly (1923-2015) is recognized for his minimalist compositions. His oeuvre of hard-edged paintings is simultaneously flat yet express rich depth through the use of the abstracted field of colors, forms, and lines.
Kelly attributed his abstract compositions to the camouflages he developed while serving in the military during World War II. Just as military camouflages contains random appearing arrangements that are composed through well-thought-out intentions, Kelly arranged colors in his paintings with effortless appearing adjacencies that seem to be juxtaposed by happenstance.
The artist produced a serial of “Spectrum” paintings expressing colors arrayed in geometrically precise yet playfully arranged orders. His project Spectrum IV, painted in 1967, is a masterful example of boldness expressed through exact and subtle manipulations. All the colors present in this painting vary from the seven colors of the rainbow; each color shown in this painting are the gradients in between the bold colors of the rainbow spectrum: as the reds contain hues of adjacent yellow and the blue contain hues of green. In addition to the colors of Spectrum IV varying from the bold pronounced colors of the rainbow, the arrangement of the colors does not follow the natural wavelength of color distribution. Kelly arranged the color strips to create a loose bilateral symmetry that radiates outward rather than march from left to right. The painting is flanked by yellow stripes that are different in their hue and saturation.
Spectrum IV’s non-figurative deployment of adjusted colors and purposefully rearranged spectrum order, in precise linear strips, elicit beauty in the response of the viewers without evoking perfection. Working within the confines of a square canvas with precise geometric arrangement, Kelly is able to tease out vibrancy with a sense of freedom. Such an effect is tempered with a sense of order that contains the overall emotional impact by containing the vibrancy through precise composition.
Lebbeus Woods (1940-2012) worked predominantly in the mediums of exquisite drawings and sublime models rather than built buildings. In addition to his numerous books and published journal articles, he was a prolific blogger from 2007 to 2012. Woods' blog site is hard to track down unless doing a web search specifically for the blog, since searching his name alone does not return the link to his blog on the front page of Google. This is a result of the search engine's ranking algorithm favoring sites with recent updates. Since Woods' passing, his blog has not been updated in eight years.
Woods' post from February 6, 2008, titled 'The Reality of Theory,' at https://lebbeuswoods.wordpress.com/2008/02/06/the-reality-of-theory/ reveals a reality that certain visionary theoretical propositions are hard to realize at the time of its conception, especially pertaining to programmatic inventions. In this post, Woods recounts how he was invited to Sarajevo, Bosnia in 1993 and proposed exterior reconstruction of war-damaged buildings such as The Electrical Management Building with a radically new aesthetic and a repurposed program called "Freespace." The blog post shows drawings, renderings and the depressing actual realization of the exterior reconstruction designed without Woods' input. The theory of Freespace escapes praxis due to the constraint of finances and desire from the government to see it realized.
Freespace, a programmatic carte blanche for a sculptural formal realization, is a call for an enclosed spatial expression of liberty and freedom much like public urban parks. Most parks -that were not private gardens- were not seen in mass development until the 19th century. Much as how Woods' Freespace seem novel now, the concept of truly public parks was once unimaginable before modern democratic societies eventually made them a reality. In the war-ravaged urbanscape of Sarajevo, it is not difficult to imagine an enclosed protective shell rather than an open area for a place of free assembly and unrestrained activity. Similarly, in the aftermath of the current COVID-19 pandemic, a place to assemble and express physical social connection may be required, and there may be enough empty buildings to realize such goals. Freespace as a theory can be actualized in reality.
In his blog post, Woods wrote: "More than all this, the people of the city had suffered years of deprivation, terror, and uncertainty, and many would be transformed by it. How, I asked, could architecture play any positive role in all of this? My answer was that architecture, as a social and primarily constructive act, could heal the wounds, by creating entirely new types of space in the city. These would be what I had called ‘freespaces,’ spaces without predetermined programs of use, but whose strong forms demanded the invention of new programs corresponding to the new, post-war conditions. I had hypothesized that “90% of the damaged buildings would be restored to their normal pre-war forms and uses, as most people want to return to their old ways of living….but 10% should be freespaces, for those who did not want to go back, but forward.” The freespaces would be the crucibles for the creation of new thinking and social-political forms, small and large. I believed then–and still do–that the cities and their people who have suffered the most difficult transitions in the contemporary world, in Sarajevo and elsewhere, have something important to teach us, who live comfortably in the illusion that we are immune to the demands radical changes of many kinds will impose on us, too."
In 2008, just before the start of the previous recession, a think tank named Kartun Development Group (KDG) was created by Wes Jones; its members included me, Amir Lotfi, and Caroline Dahl.
As an urbanism think tank that operated under the guise of a fictional real estate development group (“Kartun” is an Arabic sounding play on the word “cartoon”), KDG’s videos and public statements were complete works of fiction that were rooted in thoroughly researched facts of the city-state. With the help of Adina Hempel and Richard Wagner who organized the research trip to Dubai, KDG analyzed the urban problems of that city and proposed drastic solutions. These solutions took steps toward implementation and realization by making sure that our proposals fit the operating principles of Dubai: conspicuous wealth and authoritarian class distinctions. By operating as if we shared the same motivations as Dubai’s power structures, KDG gave blunt criticism of the capitalistic autocratic regime while proposing changes that were feasible given the restrictions of the given power structure.
The biting social commentaries, delivered through irony like that of political cartoons, are still relevant today since the expansion of the city came to a halt following the 2008 recession. Dubai still operates mostly unchanged from the period, in which these research-driven projects were produced. Furthermore, a shortage of adequate shelters still remains today in Dubai.
“Understanding Dubai Inc.” (Credit: Robert Cha)
“Cohabitation: Low income housing for Dubai” (Credit: Robert Cha, Amir Lotfi, Caroline Dahl)
From the article: “In the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, architecture found itself back at the drafting table. Clients got spooked (or went broke), construction rates plummeted in the United States and Europe, and young architects in particular had to find new ways to work. And so this past decade has greeted a welter of digital projects, performances, pop-up designs and “paper architecture,” by practitioners born too late for big budgets.
“These young architects are heirs to a deep tradition of architecture beyond building — and right now they can discover one of the greatest paper architects of a time before AutoCAD. Jean-Jacques Lequeu, more than two centuries ago, also saw his career upended by political shifts and economic crises: in his case, the French Revolution and the Napoleonic Wars. He, too, had to settle for a career of diminished scope, grinding out maps and renderings for a land registry office and other bureaucracies.
“But after hours, alone in his little Parisian bolt-hole, Lequeu (1757—1826) birthed on paper an architecture of wild grandiosity. Styles collided. Historical epochs blended together. European forms mingled with those of Asia and the Middle East. Classical restraint gave way to sensuous, sometimes racy ornament. Buildings became enmeshed with bodies: sometimes human ones, sometimes those of giant farm animals.
“…These painstaking sheets, capricious or perverse, steeped in powder blue and misty rose, are a remarkable achievement of the later Enlightenment — and yet they have much more to offer young architects today than a drawing lesson. When the building contracts dry up, you realize your one true client is desire.”
In times of uncertainty and turmoil, efforts toward sublime and beauty appear trivial in comparison to the necessities of shelter and functionality. Currently, the novel coronavirus pandemic is spreading at an exponential rate throughout the world and many people are suffering as a consequence. Constructions are being shut down indefinitely and architectural projects that are in the pipelines of many offices are poised to be put on indefinite hold or canceled due to problems of the economy and the realities of social distancing required to stop the spread of disease. An economic recession is on the horizon that can spiral down to another great depression.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs is a pyramidal diagram that organizes human needs from necessity at the bottom that supports higher activities above. For example, without the basic needs of food, the highest need for self idealization cannot be met. Philosophical inquires made by humans were supported by times of prosperity in which thinkers were allowed to spend time considering the nature of existence rather than going through the turmoils of simply existing. Architecturally, great achievements such as the Pyramids, the Parthenon, and the Vatican were built with money from a period of immense prosperity and a product of a zeitgeist that reflected abundance and peace. Unlike other creative endeavors such as music, literature, and paintings, buildings require clients with deep pockets. Buildings of great importance not only negotiate issues of money, but also labor and materials along with logistics and codes. If the current crisis leads toward a deep economic downturn, the construction of exuberant buildings will likely be on indefinite hold.
In the upcoming period of downturn, there are two possible scenarios for making good architecture that does not betray the circumstances of the economy and the zeitgeist.
First is to focus on the fundamentals of the necessity of function while striving for visual effects that soothe the spirit. Examples are the buildings produced during the 1930’s America under the funding of Works Projects Administration (WPA). Public buildings built during that period under the direction of WPA were not sparse sheds but ornamented boxes with flourishes of Beaux-Arts influences. There is a conservative element to the projects from this period that looked back at the past as a time of prosperity. Built projects in the foreseeable future will likely be more conservative and restrained if the past depression is any indication for the future outcome. However spartan this approach might be, architects and clients must remember that WPA projects never forgot the importance of aesthetic qualities for lifting human spirit.
The second option is to pursue speculative fiction architecture that escapes the bondage of immense capital investment. There is a place for cultural production in crisis to maintain a sense of humanity. This inclusive approach does not treat the arts as the pinnacle of a stacked pyramid, but sees beauty and sublimity as part of a holistic approach for living life without fear. What used to be called paper architecture, and now fiction architecture, exists not to envelop the subject who enters the building but exists to enter the minds of the subject through imagination. The visual representation of unbuilt projects has reached a level of realism unthinkable even 20 years ago. Much as recorded mediums of music expanded its outreach and popularity beyond the immediacy of attending a concert, the proliferation of unbuilt projects over the internet can excite or soothe the minds of audiences experiencing it via the transmitted medium.
Until the crisis becomes unbearably difficult, humanity must be affirmed through continued engagement with beauty and the sublime. This struggle should manifest all efforts in both built and unbuilt projects and leverage depression into an opportunity for growth.
Reflecting on the failure of capitalist society to provide humane social housing, the film Parasite draws a stark contrast between the living conditions of the haves and the have-nots. The famed architect designed Park residence, where most of the film takes place, feels spacious and agreeable -but never awe inspiring or too exceptional. The modernist principles of good residential architecture such as natural light, views, fresh air, and uncluttered open floor plan are not shown as common features but as luxury commodities afforded only by the elites. Even art and furniture are available only to the rich Park residence and not in the half-basement apartment of the poor Kim family. If the Park residence contained common trappings of luxury such as gilded furnishing and overly ornate decorations throughout, instead of sparse modernist details, the film would have been less powerful in terms of driving the point that certain living conditions in the built environment are fundamental for a good life regardless of class or money. Instead of chasing decadence, the poor Kim family is drawn to life in the Park house for easily grasped improvements from their own squalid living conditions. The director commented he wanted to make a film focusing on the problem of inequality in Korea, but found out after the film’s release that the film was addressing a global problem.
Globally, architects who practice as service providers for the rich have little power in determining the living conditions of the lower class. More often than not, developer clients are driven by motives of profit rather than a sense of duty toward improving the lives of the eventual occupants. In America, the standard of low-income residential spaces is higher than in countries such as Korea. However, that improved standard has acted as a deterrence for constructing new low-income dwellings. With America’s planning and building codes (that mandate standard features of natural light, ventilation, fire safety, accessibility, water drainage, and plumbing and electrical standards) housing developments have ran into a standstill as developers focus more on building housings for the upper class rather than spend money on building habitable low to middle class housings –in order to gain a higher margin of profit from their investments. This problem is exacerbated by the fact that each housing development must go through an entitlement process full of resistance from existing home owners. Hence, massive homeless populations have formed against the backdrop of the practice of housing as an investment. Societal failure to provide safe and comfortable shelters is a problem that can only be addressed through political interventions. Only once such interventions are in place, ethical architecture can address fundamental issues of ideal living not as decadence for the few but as an imperative for the many.
Motion graphic artist Agustin Vidal Saavedra uses After Effects to create a fascinating video of the painting “Ecstasy of Saint Francis.”
In western architecture, since the Christian adoption of a Roman invention, the dome has represented heaven. Heaven was thought to be in the sky above, and under visual observations the sky appears to be a dome. In the Bible’s Book of Genesis, God is said to have created heaven as a dome over a flat earth. After Pythagoras posited that the earth was not flat, and since Copernicus theorized against a geocentric universe, the architectural symbolism of the dome cast overhead as a representation of God’s overruling presence from heaven has been fraught with a sense of error. This sense of error reached its symbolic nadir when earth was observed from outer space in photographs taken by astronauts above its thin blue atmosphere.
In regards to representation of heaven using architectural domes, what is successful in Saavedra’s animation is that the artist creates a series of interconnected vertical passage though a montage of domes that terminates in outer space. The religious journey of a saint being taken up into heaven uses the motif of the dome not as heaven itself, but as a passageway to heaven and the afterlife. This animation is a great example of breathing new life to a symbolically depleted architectural formal gesture.
During the latter half of the 20th century, the conceptual artists Bernd and Hilla Becher anesthetized mechanical and machinic forms through their extensive photographs of industrial buildings, mines, grain elevators, gas tanks, mills, and water towers.
Shot in the mornings, under an overcast sky to avoid shadows, the frontally photographed “objective” images are displayed on a grid, and always without extensive explanations for the function of the structures. One views the photographs of Bechers with an eye toward formal compositions, and not toward operational performances. Whereas the Constructivists and the Bauhaus Modernists theorized machine and industrial architecture in terms of progress, the Bechers often documented built objects nearing obsolescence and disuse, as if some of their subjects are ruins from the past. Through their photographs, they present technology without instrumentality -and this absence turns their subjects into art.
Bernd and Hilla Becher’s photographs opens up a possibility to frame technology in terms of affect, and not as a measure of teleological advancements. Their documentations instill a sense of longing and poetry to functionalist structures that have outlived their usefulness: as beams, girders, trusses, domes, braces, towers, ducts, and pipes are displayed as formalistic components capable of eliciting emotional aesthetic responses. These machinic parts that are shown through their photographs parallel Vitruvius’ description of classical orders, as they generate formalistic effects rather than convey functionalist requirements.
Richie Hawtin utilizes Allen & Heath Xone, K2 PlayDifferently Model 1 Mixer, Ableton Push, and an Antelope Orion 32+ to create spontaneously improvised compositions. The type of intense music showcased here is a departure from the sparse minimal techno he has been creating and performing for the past decade and more, and the mixture of digital soundbits and the analogue synthesizer in rapid sequences result in a music that would be impossible were it not for recent technological advancements. Hawtin’s music sets have strong overall cohesion yet relentlessly intricate progression of sounds making up the parts -much as good architecture has overall gestalt broken up by tectonic and formal interplay in a temporal sequence of spaces.
This is a video of Johann Sebastian Bach’s masterful composition, the Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1 in G major, explained in an easy to understand format. Architecture and music are the most abstract of all the arts -in the case of this musical piece, such intricate play between two musical keys, to create an elegant narrative, has lessons for architectural compositions of limited formal components.
This is a well executed drawing of the alpha model of U.S. Navy’s primary carrier based aircraft. The graphic style, with crisp and bold line weights, is almost identical to the drawings found in the official technical manuals for aircraft maintenance and repair.
Donald Hoffman is a cognitive psychologist who argues for a formal theory of consciousness—the theory of “conscious agents”—that takes consciousness to be fundamental, rather than derivative from objects in space-time. This lecture begins by establishing that evolution for human perception lead to usefulness rather than for verification of absolute truths. Just as the perceptually “truthful” concepts of flat earth or geocentric universe were revealed to be fiction, the notion that consciousness arise from materialistic interaction (such as the synapses in the brain) is argued to be false. Instead, Hoffman argues that consciousness comes before biological interaction. This method of thinking tackles the issue of combinatory consciousness as a form of an entanglement in the quantum physic sense (the finding that certain particles behave as a single unified system even when they’re separated by such immense distances suggests the universe functions as a fundamental whole rather than a collection of discrete parts). To further explain entanglement of consciousness, Hoffman shows how a visual paradox of a necker cube is a digram for a basic form of entanglement that only exists due to our own “faulty” perceptual and visual interface. Hoffman provides mathematically explained panpsychist proofs for how consciousness agents interact with each other through interface.
If we see that architecture (both built and in images) is a form of consciousness interface, the act of making it “correct” in terms of styles or materials is revealed to be as fruitless as arguing that the earth is flat. Architecture, once cognizant of panpsychist concepts can become a new interface by proposing novel ways in which space and time interact with individualized consciousness. This absence of a single truth is a better expression of reality than a materialist world view. One way of doing this would be to examine the entanglement issue (such as a simultaneous duality of a necker cube) as a formal basis in which individualized perception of a form/space can have multiplicities of meaning and emotional effects that can be different, or even contradictory. If architecture were designed this way, it becomes a conscious agent in which panpsychist truth is revealed by making entanglement visible to the subjects through interface. It could be argued that unbuilt images of a project have the same agency as would a built project if the goal is to communicate universal complexity through visual means.
Architect Louis Kahn famously advocated seeking the spiritual essence of a tectonic element by asking a brick "what do you want to be?" (The brick answered it wanted to be an arch). Related to the spirit or consciousness of the inorganic, Philosopher Phillp Goff explores the philosophy of panpsychism, through which he seeks to counter materialist and quantifiable metaphysics of physical science, by examining the possibility that consciousness is universal and it exists from an atomic level to that of the universe. The academic papers that are available on his website http://www.philipgoffphilosophy.com lays out the arguments against dualist separation of mind and body, as he explains subjective qualities of consciousness from human to animal, then to the inorganic.
Goff argues that micro level parts have their own consciousness and the body is a collective coming together of these micro consciousness into a macro level whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. Unlike animism which postulates many individualized spirits or gods, Goff submits the idea of an underlying universal consciousness comparable to the entity of a single God.
With consciousness pervading each things and beings, this philosophy is applicable to the part to whole question of architectonics and also to the idea that architecture can be an open ended consciousness that interfaces with the consciousness of the subject/user. That is to say, architecture has a soul and it can affect yours.
Panpsychism is apt at revealing that the ontology of architectural creations have a spirit/consciousness that is manifested in form; this imbued consciousness follows that of the architect as much as the consciousness of the architect originates from the universal consciousness or God. As a basis for an architectural theory, this is not to say that these forms have to mimic an organism in a biomorphic form (after all, the brick wanted to be an arch). If the concept that inorganic forms can be constituted of macro level, further argument can be made to state that architecture is an extension of human spirit and it affects the human soul through interface.
This interface of consciousness existing between the object (architecture) and the subject (user/observer) can be applied to unbuilt projects existing only in images or texts, since an argument can be made that the unbuilt project is an extension or an offspring of the consciousness of the author. Therefore, in terms of architecture, panpsychism is applicable to the transference of concepts and not limited to the materials that constitute a built building. This way of thinking has correlation to deconstruction and structuralist way of viewing the universe in terms of texts. The groundbreaking new way of seeing available through panpsychism is that these texts are consciousness inherent in the inorganic rather than existing separate from physical reality.
Functionalism suggests austerity and engineered efficiency over issues of aesthetics or expressive formal qualities. However, in both architecture and military functionalism, there is a contradictory tendency to seek the opportunity for formal expressions beyond that of pure performance. Utilizing Deconstructionist mode of thinking that involves language, architect Peter Eisenman states that architecture is a “building with a sign of a building.” The need for designs to communicate, influences even the most functionalist forms, when designs are taken beyond the realm of pure utilitarian applications such as factories or grain silos. This tendency for functionalism to betray its own desire for pure efficiency, through expressive formalism, will be examined in architecture and the military.
A diagram of Napoleonic War hats by illustrator Andre Jouineau shows a variation in headwear as a system of communication. The bright colors utilized for the hats helped distinguish each other during the thick fog of gunpowder that enveloped the battlefield. Form does follow function in terms of legibility, but the varying shapes, materials, and sizes of each uniform indicate the taxonomy of forms beyond that of pure legibility.
A collection of U.S. Navy’s squadron logos shows a similar tendency for expressiveness in terms of aesthetics. These logos are emblazoned on uniforms, buildings, aircrafts, and on the architectural elements such as doors as devices of identification and signification. In terms of performance, an aircraft should be difficult to spot by the enemy. The colorful and often aggressively cartoonish icons of the squadron logos on aircrafts betray this basic function. The fact that squadron identifiers (such as the text “VFA-125”) are stenciled on the aircrafts means iconic squadron logos serve a function beyond efficient identification. The functions of these are ornamental signification pertaining to a humanist desire to locate art in what could be a dehumanizing business of warfare. This parallels architecture’s desire to signify beyond the performative requirements of shelter and stability. Such concerns of expressive formal appearance influenced the selection of Lockheed Martin’s X-35 over Boeing’s X-32 in the Joint Strike Fighter program for the F-35. Given a similar performance of both aircrafts, the bias over formal expression influenced the selection of sleek X-35 over the rotund X-32. The images of both aircrafts are posted above. It is easy to judge one over another in terms of which better signifies speed and aggression.
Functionalist architecture in buildings, other than those serving purely utilitarian needs, can be traced back to the early Modernist architect Adolf Loos, who proclaimed that ornament was a crime. With the absence of outright ornamental detailing, Loos designed architecture that has expressive qualities in proportion, the arrangement of massing, typography (in signage), and material choices. Rather than arrive at an overtly austere massing of boxes, Loos’ formal expressions betray the efficiency of pure functionalism. This is evidenced in his design for the Looshaus, shown above; while lacking ornamentation in terms of intricate details, the aesthetic excellence of the building is shown through a masterful arrangement of larger elements of architecture. It could be argued that Looshaus lacks ornamental details but does not lack aesthetic formal qualities. Loos’ buildings are never purely functionalistic.
An often misconstrued dictum by architect Louis Sullivan that “form follows function” also seems to place program and structural efficiency over the concerns of formal appearance of architecture. However, Sullivan utilized ornate detailing that deviates from the pure function through expressive formal articulations. In addition to ornamentation, Sullivan often utilized contrasting volume of space to emphasize grandiosity in public assembly areas –a technique of compression of space before expansion for contrasting emphasis. So what does Sullivan mean by “form follows function?” In regards to this, architect Wes Jones emphasizes the necessity of formal expressiveness in designs, that serve a need beyond that of pure utility, by differentiating a ‘building’ from ‘architecture.’ He writes: “Everyone is familiar with the phrase Form follows function. But what does it really mean? why form, why function, what do we mean by ‘follows?’ does it mean ‘comes after,’ or does it mean ‘takes its cues from’ or does it mean ‘subscribes to’ or does it mean ‘is less important than?’ The punch line is that this is all about legibility… While architecture is an elective phenomenon, building is not. The difference between the two is what raises the issue of function following form. Both are first occasioned by a need, but architecture goes beyond the basic need for shelter or program accommodation served by ‘mere’ building, to set that effort in an explicit context of meaning, expectations of meaning. While the building’s form IS necessarily functional, architecture’s form goes further to SAY that about itself.”
A study into the expressive qualities in Functionalism has been taken up by architectural historian Spyros Papapetros, who explored military ornamentation in regards to the stately uniforms worn by German Emperor Wilhelm II in his book “On the Animation of the Inorganic.” There is an opportunity for architects to examine the parallel between military aesthetics and architectural formalism, as both are explicitly tied to the requirement of function and structural realities. While Vitruvius saw harmony in Firmitas, Utilitas, and Venustas as a fundamental triad of architecture, the concerns of Venustas (beauty) is what architects have the greatest difficulty articulating, as it exists outside the realm of quantifiable performance. It is ironic that the often unbuilt architectural projects dealing mostly with the qualities of Venustas are regarded with the military term avant-garde by the discipline of architecture.
It is well documented how Modernist architects of the 20th century, such as Le Corbusier, sought formal inspiration for architecture in naval vessels and aircrafts. Military technology with its massive state-funded research tends to create the most cutting edge contemporary designs. There are contemporary architectural opportunities in examining military technology and visual cultures, that are currently ignored by the discipline. With the goal of discovering opportunities for expression in architecture that overrides the functionalist agenda of pure performance, the interests of military and architectural formalism should be studied.
The deafening noise and the sheer magnitude of the machineries on an aircraft carrier is breathtaking. Extreme cantilevers, moving blast shield decks, huge elevators to move aircrafts, enormous column free spaces, and the pure monochrome color scheme are all architect’s dream realized on a massive scale. Architects have a history of examining naval vessels for architectural lessons: Jean Labatut, professor emertius of architecture at Princeton University, researched dazzle camouflage of ships for lessons in architecture.
Images by others of the Star Wars Death Star (credits under each image), perhaps the most well known megastructure in popular culture. The geometrically pure form coupled with intricate detailing echos Étienne-Louis Boullée’s visionary drawings.