What an eyesore!
by Renáta Nelson
7 September 2019
Not too long ago, I had the pleasure of attending an intimate seminar by a professor and architect on the future of architecture. The lecture began in classical antiquity and flowed seamlessly from the Greeks to the Romans, taking a brief pause on Marcus Vitruvius Pollio and how his architecture was influenced by Cicero’s philosophy, only to continue into the medieval era and the rebirth of classical influence during the Italian Renaissance. There the audience could allow their minds the opportunity to catch ‘a breath’ after running through more than a millennium of European architectural history. During this short sojourn our imaginations could conjure up images of how Leon Battista Alberti might have first envisioned the plan of a modern home as he merged his book on the family with his architectural style – a move that would shape the modern European home that we know today. The concept relies on the fluid yet dependent relationship between the town/city and the surrounding countryside. The house – family home – itself should be designed like a town, as the family is a community in miniature. The living room is like the piazza where people gather, the corridors serving as streets connecting the ‘piazza’ with other public and private spaces.
The work of Renaissance architects such as Alberti and Andrea Palladio raised the status of architects from that of a lowly hand worker to one of importance. “Architects had become, in a way, decision makers in their city-planning and building design, shaping future societies for generations,” I paused to think.
With this status came a level of responsibility not unlike that of the statesman. It is in the same way not at all surprising that Vitruvius was inspired by the words of perhaps the greatest orator who ever set foot in the Roman curia – Marcus Tullius Cicero. As the statesman is responsible for the well-being of the republic and its citizens and therefore needs to maintain order, dispel public fears and model the virtue expected in society, the architect must take into account the preservation of the community, the flow of the people within, and respect the need for traditional spaces – courts, government buildings, places of worship, markets, piazzas and, of course, the home. I would even suggest that Cicero could have served as an inspiration to Vitruvius through his eloquence, clarity and showmanship. Known as a man who could use words to sway the whole of Rome, he cultivated this talent during a lengthy study of Greek philosophy, rhetoric and oration, which included the adoption of a lifestyle of temperance, routine physical activity and strengthening the mind that the ancient Greeks strove for, i.e. balance between the human mind and body. There was nothing short of both beauty and purpose in Cicero’s words, with the clarity and understanding of the context in which he delivered them. In this vein, the architect must be aware of the context in which he designs so as not to disrupt the order, strive for a balance in his/her work, while achieving both beauty and purpose in the construction of towns/cities, public spaces and the very homes that we inhabit.
With barely enough time for my thoughts to stray in this direction, I am whisked into the baroque and rococo with the mammoth monarchic constructions manifesting themselves in palaces and gardens and their miniature versions copied by any who could afford to incorporate elements of these styles in their own estates. The long winding road came to an abrupt halt with the 20th century modern and post-modern architect breaking from the understanding of the community, abandoning the relationship of the building or city-planning with the tradition and flow of the community and setting aside the balance between beauty and purpose in favour of standing out through jarring shapes and materials sometimes at odds with the surrounding environment.
Again, I am thrown into thoughts of my childhood and remember inquiring of my mother why my school building and countless other buildings such as shops, restaurants, offices, etc. had flat roves rather than slanted ones. The question had arisen since my school building’s roof frequently sprung leaks in different spots whenever it rained and the janitorial staff had to pull out buckets to catch the rain water and mop the floors so we children wouldn’t slip and fall. The day’s science lesson had included a lesson on gravity and its effect on the flow of water. I commented to my mother that I also thought these flat roofs were ugly, making the buildings look “fat” (squat) and that the 19th century schoolhouse down the road – a museum today – was much prettier, in addition to the fact that its roof probably leaked less often. These flat-roofed buildings are an abandonment of both beauty and purpose without consideration of the existing surroundings – the beautiful stone colonial buildings of the New England area. Since then, I have often wondered why we don’t build beautiful buildings anymore – or at least seldom do. If it is a matter of cost or sustainability, I would bring into question the value of abandoned strip malls, leaky roofs and the energy efficiency of steel and glass in increasingly hot summers and conversely cold winters. As pointed out by Sir Roger Scruton, a beautiful building can be repurposed, if its initial purpose has faded into history. This is seen throughout the centers of European cities. However, how often are old abandoned strip malls repurposed? Additionally, who wants to live near an old abandoned – or even fully functioning – strip mall?
There are examples of attempts to maintain this balance in architecture in the 20th century although largely pre-dating the destruction brought about by the two world wars and the Spanish Civil War. Examples in the early part of the 20th century are found in the architecture of Otto Wagner, the Secession and Art Nouveau architecture sprawling across Europe from France to Hungary and Romania, or the Art Deco in the US…with only a few attempts in the latter half of the 20th century, such as Hundertwasser’s efforts to beautify industrial buildings. Instead the 20th century moved towards deconstructivism, blobitecture and stripped classical architecture, which to me looks like a reboot of fascist architecture. I would venture to say that no one dreams of living in something that looks like a pimped up version of a concrete block or series of blocks. Such apartment blocks require the tenants to sputter apologies for the ugliness of the outside of the building and mutter reassurances that the apartment inside is actually quite nice and cosy with all the traditional spaces – the creation of an illusion of a traditional home while desperately trying to forget what the outside looks like. This serves as the architect’s strange adoption of the classicism of Alberti’s architectural philosophy when it comes to the family space, all the while neglecting Alberti’s principles applied to the building’s exterior, the community space.
Sadly, politicians and billionaire builders continue to commission such insults to civilian eyes. Perhaps it is just my background as a daughter and a sister of artists, but I am not so sure. I find it very hard to believe that aesthetics in art or in architecture should be politically polemical, and perhaps there is some truth in beauty – as might be demonstrated by the general lack of odes, paintings and award winning photographs of your local strip mall. Perhaps we should not only be thinking about the conservation of historical buildings and monuments – something we, in the West, are perhaps at least a bit better about than in earlier centuries through government-imposed or historical society preservation codes – but also looking to reinvigorate architecture and city planning with the philosophy of Cicero, the architecture of Vitruvius, Alberti and Wagner, and thereby re-establishing the balance of beauty and purpose.
