Relationship Between Experimentation and Theory

(This is really a comment on Kevin's post from March 10, placed in the main thread in order to draw attention back to the question.)

The question of the relationship between experimentation and theory is a sub-set of the larger question: what is the relationship between action and thought? The answer is: thought drives action, and it is subsequently informed by action. This is the core lesson of the feedback loop. To act effectively, we must guide our actions with knowledge acquired from our observations of the world, and to enhance and expand our knowledge of the world, we must engage it in action. We must explore and discover. The relationship between action and thought is not unilateral, in which one element dominates the other, because we are integrated beings, possessing both a body and mind. We need both to survive and to thrive. To paraphrase Ayn Rand: A body without a mind is a zombie, and a mind without a body is a ghost. Both are archetypes of the undead.

Experimenting is an action. It is a way of doing the work of design. Its antithesis is perpetuating, which is the mainstream’s dominant way of working. That is a different action. So the question really is: what ideas (i.e., what theories) are coupled with these actions? What are the ideas that complete the necessary coupling of action and thought in the work of architects? Perpetuating … what? Experimenting … for what? Experimenting is pointless as an end-in-itself. It must be directed, guided by a curiosity about something. It is always guided by an idea (explicit or implicit) about what is important to explore and discover about the world. In other words, every act of experimentation implies a value-judgment – a choice to explore this as opposed to that, which implies that the selected subject of experiment is more important than alternative subjects not pursued. Every act of experimentation expresses a view of the world – a view of what is important about the world or life in it.

Perpetuating is the same. What does one choose to perpetuate? Every act of perpetuation involves a choice, and thus, it too expresses a view of what is important.

So what have you been experimenting with in your projects this semester? What aspects of the world have been drawn out and accentuated? What conventions have you accepted and perpetuated in your work this semester? Answering these questions will lead you toward an understanding of the view of the world embodied in your work. It is a good way to begin to see what your work means.

Individual Work: Jefferson's take

Architecture as embodying theme, in Thursday's New York Times, no less! I wish there was more architectural criticism of Poplar Forest, but it is a general-interest article.

"Its elegance is as stunning as its impracticalities, its form creating less a place for living than one for contemplation (which is why so many of the home’s owners, over the years, were compelled to make modifications). Restored to original form, the house reflects an ideal, lightly compromised. It seems an echo of Monticello’s larger, more polished expression of that ideal."

"Jefferson's Blind Spots and Ideals; in Brick and Mortar"

mankind inhabits nature, nature inhabits mankind

Since the diagrams don't show up too well, I'll describe my intentions for this project a little bit. As the title suggests, I believe there is a dual or symbiotic relationship between man and nature - but only to a degree. Man can gain a great deal studying nature in part or in whole, and the more contact man has with nature the more he understands nature and has the properties of the natural world influencing his thoughts - and actions toward the natural world. Likewise, nature can be made more suitable for human inhabitation, and in this sense improved as far as its suitability for human habitability is concerned. Mankind ultimately determines the nature of this relationship since he possesses a will, and nature is subject to the rules that govern its growth and propogation. Ultimately, mankind can gain an understanding of the physical properties of nature, and a clue to the greater governing laws of the universe, but cannot sharpen his will merely by this study. He must understand that the will dwells above nature, and is governed only by a will greater than his own. This project seeks to give mankind an opportunity to see nature in these different ways. First, on the ground level, is a necessary and intriguing element of shelter and study. Lessons are there for distilling as nature dominates. As mankind progresses to the upper level, he takes a route that gives glimpses of nature in a more exposes fashion, in this case mankind is pushing his limits of comfort, as he sees nature in a more direct way. The uppel level allows mankind and nature to cohabitate the same space in a way beneficial to both. Mankind realizes both the benefit of his natural surroundings, and the dominance of his will over it, but also ultimately his need to utilize nature in a wat that preserves it for his, and its, benefit.

Whew, maybe that makes some sense? Anyway, my question is wide open, but related to this topic: Where does mankind fit in the relationship between the governed and governor? Feel free to answer in any way you feel is appropriate.

on meaning...

"I used to think of meaning as something that one had recourse to - a touchstone or base. Now it seems to me that unless an act or an occupation is suffused with meaning, constantly and indivisibly meaningful, it is meaningless. It is not possible to work at meaningless work, and then go home or to church or to a museum and experience meaning, as one would recharge a battery. The model would be the life of the primitive hunter or farmer, whose work was never divided from ceremony."

Wendell Berry
"Notes from an Absence and a Return"

LaDallman Lecture

The lecture given Friday by La Dallman was entitled 'Sedimentation, Strata, and Other Stuff', although I would argue that simply 'Other Stuff' would be sufficient to describe what was presented. I left the lecture surprised and confused by their work for a number of reasons. Let me attempt to frame my thoughts and analyze them in the context of emerging contemporary design.

On material and craft:
Grace described a situation in which panel ties for the cladding system were not placed in the concrete wall with sufficient accuracy. These ties are the crucial link between the heavy CORTEN sheets and the structural walls of the house. Their imprecise placement seems to be not the result of negligence of the construction worker who placed them, but rather an unavoidable byproduct of manual process in which they are placed. Rather than embracing this emergent behavior, it was deemed a mistake. A system of lasers was quickly employed to 'correct' any of these mistakes made in construction. This presents an particularly interesting and troubling scenario to the contemporary designer in which mass customization is used in the pursuit of achieving sameness. In this light, we as designers appear to be apologizing for the lack of precision that is inherent in hand craft and materials. There seems to be two roads to go down from which we must choose. The first has already been described. This is life of abusing the technological power that is now available to us in the name of form. The second requires the designer to listen and observe what is physically happening and extract the best qualities. If we embrace this way of thinking, we do not dogmatically have to accept all of these potential 'failures', but it does offer us a flood of new opportunities. In this case, it seems as though La Dallman missed one.

On meaning and metaphors:
In the Levy House: Peeling the finishes off at particular moments in the interior to reveal the structure somehow connects the occupant to nature. The idea of floor plates stacked on top of one another somehow being reminiscent of the ground plane. A structure that sits as an object in the landscape, but through its form is connected as well, maybe?

Why? Why? Why?

What does any of this have to do with anything? La Dallman describes their projects in a metaphor-rich fashion, but fail to ever take a stance on what they believe. Is a metaphor able to hold meaning in and of itself in the first place? In a formalist tradition it seems as if the building is put in place first, and meaning is applied like a band-aid at some point in the future. There was little to no mention of any of the spaces entrained within any of the firm's projects, which was disappointing. I wanted to know the feeling they were trying to achieve with the marsupial bridge as it wound its way through the ancient ironwork underneath Holton Street, and what about the Levy House that they thought made it so great [other than its shiny finishes, vast swaths of glass, and overhanging floor plates of course...]

I was equally disappointed in the meaning behind the use of materials, although maybe not so much in the arrangement of the materials themselves. In saying that, what I mean is that I think the form and shape of the house are ok aesthetically. They are perhaps a little conventional and boring, but that.s not the point of my analysis [im striving for a not so subjectivist approach to this all]. I was hoping that the title of the lecture implied some sort of research that had a direct effect on the way that firm thought about materials. Perhaps the study of strata would reveal unique and interesting ways in which different materials engage one another. Or how the immense forces inside of the earth push and pull on sedimentation creating beautiful patterns. Unfortunately, this proved not to be the case. Rather, a fairly conventional house was constructed on site, and there is nothing wrong with that. I do think its absolutely ridiculous to design a house in that manner and label it a fabricated landscape. Not allowed. I couldn.t help but feel like I was sitting through a sophomore review as I was, piece by piece, walked around the house. The house is just that, a collection of pieces that seem to lack any greater meaning now that they are in place sitting on site.

Let me just say that I am not cutting down any of the work that La Dallman has done. Rather I think we are better off for it. They are pursuing innovative production methods, and seem to take on the types of projects that other firms would scoff at. Its empowering for us as contemporary designers in Milwaukee to be able to not only analyze but also improve upon the quality of architecture in our fair town and beyond.

Discovering Your Convictions

My favorite aspect of this class is the relation between our designs and our "world view". Discovering your own convictions and world view is a quite enlightening, if not very challenging, exercise. And the words that define these convictions, especially the phrase "world view", are often discussed in class and frequently mentioned between classmates. My first question is what does that exactly mean?

When trying to grasp my own world view, it always leads down a path of spirituality and religion. Would your convictions about the relationship between Human and Earth differ if you believed in reincarnation? Would your convictions about the relationships between different people differ if you believed Heaven and Hell? I think these are all deep and important questions. I understand that religion and spirituality are often taboo in liberal institutions, Macalester is a shining example of that. So is this what we are talking about when we say "world view"? Or is it a distinct idea, somehow separated from religion and spirituality?

I have another question, but I think I'll save that one for later as I ponder this one...

Breakthrough!!!

After a morning of frustrations, the corner transition is resolved. The issue keeping me from realizing the potential of the system to resolve the corner was my lack of belief in the rules I established for the system's structure. The same tectonic system is used for the flat portions of the triangular grid, but for some reason I assumed that the corner would have to be resolved by breaking the rules at some point. Wrong! Only by following the tectonic rules of the system at every moment was the system's inherent flexibility harnessed. I won't attempt to describe the system's connection rules here (you can try to figure them out from the pics), but they remain unbroken! Oh happy day!

Business versus Art

"A man is never wrong doing what he thinks is right." (Ben Cartwright, Bonanza, Season 4, Episode 13).

This is not a statement of subjectivism. It is not meant to say that whatever you happen to do is right just because you chose to do it. Rather, it is a statement of individualism. It expresses the fact that the only way to have any chance at doing what is right is to follow the independent judgment of your own reasoning mind. It is only through independent understanding and evaluation that each person can hope to stay on a path toward truth, and the only real way to deviate from this path is to subordinate your judgment to that of others - be it your teacher, your employer, your client, your friends, your family, or your peers.

According to Mr. Cartwright, nobody should ever substitute his understanding of right and wrong, truth and falsehood, important and irrelevant - for that of another person. To relinquish the responsibility of judgment is to become vulnerable to all the wrongs, falsehoods and distractions that can thwart life, which one could no longer reliably discern.

If this is true, isn't there a contradiction between Mr. Cartwright's dictum and the one put forth in my reply to Manto's comment under "Life at the BreakWater": "The customer is always right"? How can architects be good businessmen, placing the needs of their clients first, and also be good artists - true to their convictions? The service-provider-architect would say, "Ah, yes - this is precisely why it is foolish to hold convictions. Being idealistic will cause you to fail in business. It is the arrogance of architects who believe they know what is right that is the downfall of architecture. It leads to buildings driven by the egos of architects, rather than the needs of inhabitants."

Do we have to choose between business and art? If not, how do we resolve this apparent conflict?

This is the current state of things. The concept driving the model is the idea of the world as a framework for exploration. The images show the progression from ground level to birds eye to overview, revealing and concealing the different elements to be explored and engaged. Also, it looks like a spaceship.

Paul

Life at the BreakWater

I finally got a chance to look at the BreakWater "debate", which Cassie was kind enough to post. The whole discussion strikes me as an exercise in the arbitrary - on both sides. Renner (the architect) against the architectural critics - what a grand battle! Or is it? Both sides seem to agree that architecture is just a matter of opinion, and each side offers its opinion with no substantive reasons. The architectural critics bash the BreakWater for its allegedly bad connotations: an institution, a McManson. Scandalous! Renner bashes the critics for being Modernists and intellectuals. Thinking too much? - you should be ashamed! But wait. Why are institutions and McMansons bad? Why is Modernism or intellectual inquiry bad? Nobody in this discussion says. I think McMansons and Modernism are bad, but I find the whole discussion pointless because it is filled with Post-Modern subjectivism - a battle of whims and a battle over public influence. Rather than providing clear reasons that might elucidate some truth, both sides seem more concerned with molding public opinion.

More relevant questions: What does the BreakWater mean? What convictions does it express? What kind of life does it promise those who purchase condos there? These are not esoteric questions for architectural theorists to ponder in the classroom, detached from any relevance in everyday life. These questions are simultaneously theoretical and practical. They are desperately important questions, to which every customer of the BreakWater needs real answers. In that spirit:

Comfortable rather than Beautiful

Renner clearly states his intention to make a place that is comfortable for its residents, rather than visually appealing. He wanted to give people entertainment centers, well-equipped kitchens and spacious decks. He values the simple pleasures of ordinary life, rather than the sophisticated delights of the refined life.

Generic rather than Distinctive

Every unit here is basically the same, a fact broadcasted loudly on the exterior by the relentlessly repetitious balconies. Everybody gets exactly the same balcony. Everybody gets basically the same interior living spaces, as well. The conviction expressed is that we are more alike than different. The things that make us distinctive - our individual personalities - are not really relevant. In design we can safely filter that out of consideration. One size fits all.

The same conviction can be seen in the treatment of the structure, enclosure and form of the building. The driving desire is for conformity to an established model, rather than exploration of something new. It is more important to reinforce convention than to deviate from it. We should not question too much (if at all) the way things are normally done. It is crucially important in life to be normal, that is, to be like everybody else.

Money-making rather than Landmark-making

Renner is probably right that the BreakWater will make money for its developer, and maybe also for its residents. According to Renner's own statements making money for his clients is clearly one of his driving intentions. Conversely, he does not even mention such things as pride of ownership. So he conveys to us the conviction that what is most important in life is getting a return-on-investment, rather than garnering rich and meaningful human experiences.

Renner's Ideal

So what is the kind of person who would thrive inhabiting a condo at the BreakWater? It is a person who values physical comfort above beauty, a person without a strong sense of personal identity, and a person who pursues the acquisition of monetary wealth over emotional fulfillment. These are all characteristics of the materialist. Everything Renner says in the debate reveals that he is an extreme materialist, and he has succeeded in giving us a building that embodies his view of the world.

Anyone who purchased a condo at the BreakWater and does not hold these convictions is a poor fool - a sucker who was duped into buying something that stands for everything he hates. That is the real crime here - not that the BreakWater exists - after all, it is an expression of the values of the architect and the client (i.e., the developer), as it should be. The crime is that many of the customers who purchase condos here, now and in the future, are supporting the propagation of convictions they actually consider destructive. If these convictions were identified, as I've tried to do here, those same enthusiastic buyers would run away from the BreakWater with a sick stomach. Ignorance of the meaning and significance of architecture renders people helpless against buildings like the BreakWater, which I actually don't think expresses the convictions of many people.

In an enlightened society the developers (who own the land) have every right to pay to hire an architect of their choosing and construct a building that expresses whatever values they choose. And in an enlightened society, people have every right to buy homes elsewhere, and to watch the BreakWater rot. The fact that the BreakWater is sold-out indicates that either we live in a society with a large number of materialists, or we live in a society with a large number of unenlightened persons, who don't know what the ugly face of materialism looks like. I believe the latter is true.



Postscript: I wanted to clarify a couple points related to the issue of making money through architecture. In this post it might seem like I'm against profiting from architecture. Nothing could be further from the truth. I question two aspects of Renner's mode of business operation. First, his premise that the way to "make money" for your client is to design an ugly, minimalist box. Notice that Renner never even asks the real Capitalistic question: how much money can I make? Is 0.0001% profit really okay? Certainly not. The goal of every good Capitalist is not to merely make a profit, but to maximize profit. The reality is that minimal solutions never maximize profit. People want more (if given the option), and they deserve to have more. Second, I question the process in which customers buy homes in complete ignorance of the convictions embodied there. It is wrong to sell people a chocolate bunny that's really made out of poop. No architect can be considered an honest businessman when he pursues profit by pulling the wool over people's eyes - obscuring issues of conviction and way-of-life under the disguise of "functionality" or "resale value". Architects have a responsibility to help their customers understand the significance of a place, so the client can make an informed decision.

                                                                                I am searching for meaning with my own project - and struggling a bit.  A thread of meaning has been flowing through my early projects this semester, but distilling it has been tricky.  I started with the choatic, but very purposeful, way that connections form in the brain; then moved to a sectional reinterpretation of that idea in order to explore its layering and spatial implications.  

As I move into serious development for project_03,  I keep coming back to this idea that space is also found within, not just around, built elements (much like the internal structure of the biological precedents we have found).  This idea is important to me because many of the most influential buildings I have inhabited in my life were those where I could climb on walls, see to the floor below, or view into another space through a "mistake" in the construction.  These spaces create a rich experience, and instill memory of the experience - a wall that can be walked on or sat in, a floor that offers a view, a ceiling that reaches down and invites you to go up and dwell.  

These images are examples of such places.  In Berlin, a memorial to the nazi book-burning offers a view below the street into the world of the "purity" the nazi party was attempting to achieve - an empty library, a place devoid of people, books, and therefore meaning.  

In Manitowoc, a view up the silo of my grandparents' old dairy farm reveals a view of imagination and exploration.  I could always imagine myself traversing the "corridor" that led to the top.  

Now that I've rambled on long enough, I ask for anyone's response.  What way(s) can you summarize my disparate thoughts on this subject?  Is there a larger, yet more concise, principle driving this project?

Architecture as:

built exploration playground?

facilitator of memory?

tectonics of imagination? 

I will post pics of my project shortly.

 

The Half-Resurrected Field of Architecture

It's inspiring to see some midwesterners tearing it up in Minnesota, a state as conservative as ours. Rock on. I appreciated Houminn's devotion to process. When they talked about process, I liked what they had to say, and they talked about it sufficiently deeply to keep me interested.

When they started talking about product, however, I dosed. Houminn is symptomatic of leading-edge practice today, which can't talk about product deeply. Houminn's projects were essentially like the Dubai project Manto slammed on Friday - the one that defined "plant irrigation" as its primary design intention. So Houminn defined "natural ventilation" as a primary intention, or on another project, the reduction of solar heat-gain by 1%.

Clearly they had other things in their head. They mentioned racecar air-intakes and camouflage. But... why? What is relevant about those things? Why did they spend so much time justifying their work functionally, and so little time talking about the significance of their sources of inspiration, or the significance of the experiential impact of their designs? When it came to aesthetics, they were basically silent. Were they holding out on us, or are they oblivious to the deeper significance of their work?

The same problem arose in the Office da lecture. In the Q&A she was very explicit: "Our designs are driven by program." Yet clearly they weren't. No purely functional explanation can be offered for the faceted skin of the gas station canopy, nor for the crazy folded-plate roof of the drive testing facility.

What's going on here? If contemporary architecture is supposed to incorporate a return to meaning - a return to the significance of architecture beyond minimum functional solutions - then why do these folks remain so silent on the meaning of their work? The answer can be found in the nature of leading-edge architectural education, and the rediscovery of introspection among leading designers.

The current generation of leading-edge designers is the first of its kind. When in leading-edge architecture school, its members were mostly indoctrinated into the still dominant Post-Modern view of the world, and its corresponding approach to architecture. Central to this approach is the belief that architecture (like everything) is ultimately meaningless. Meaning in Post-Modern thought is subjective, that is, it is arbitrarily projected onto things by an observer, according to each observer's whim-of-the-moment. What a building means to me, Post-Modernists like to say, is not what a building might mean to you. And what a building means to me today might not be what it will mean to me tomorrow. If this subjective view it true, then designers have no control over the meaning of their work, and thus, according to Post-Modern architectural theory, designers should not be concerned with meaning. The idea that designers can make meaningful architecture is a delusion of the past.

This idea is still deeply infused in the thinking of first-generation Genetic designers. It is as though they have habitualized the turning-off of any thinking about meaning. They instinctively avoid any line of inquiry that might lead them there, steering clear of the "hornets nest of unanswerable questions" it implies to them. This peculiar habit of mind makes them blind to the absurdity of such statements as "Our designs are driven by program." They have contorted their thinking in such a way that they've actually convinced themselves this is true.

(This is a dangerous state of affairs - a vulnerable time in the growth of Genetic architecture - in which the whole movement could careen into a New Functionalism.)

The first generation of Genetic designers have been successful in taking back only the field of design process. Here they have aggressively cleaned out the cobwebs of Post-Modernism. They have opened the field back up, allowing architects to reflect on process and experiment with it beyond any prior age. But they have not yet broken the Post-Modern vice-grip on product and the closely linked consideration of significance (i.e., meaning). This, I hope, will be the great achievement of the second generation of Genetic designers. This will complete the pending architectural renaissance. Designers will again develop the ability to reflect on product as well as process.