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RADAR
FEATURES
COMMENT
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| | RADAROPINION WHY ARCHITECTURE MATTERS
| In the lastest in our series, Phil Harris argues that architecture
matters because, unlike ‘building’, it can provide both fit and
a show. And we need both. |
“Architecture matters
because we as creatures
need a show, and we need
a fit; and for some, even
better: a bloody good show
and a bloody good fit.
No show and no fit and
our very spirit may
shrivel up and die.”
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Perhaps architecture is to buildings as animals are
to amoeba. In a procreative sense, some things
– buildings and amoeba – simply multiply; others are
the product of an erotic display of courtship, or at least
a memorable partnership.
Procreate, v. now rare. Trans. To beget, engender,
generate.… (The Shorter Oxford)
Now of course courtship could be as simple as a
few beers and a quick lift of the eyelid (in the case of
some real animals) – but usually in the animal world it
contains some sense of rigmarole – a strut, a dance, a bit
of necking, a show of feathers, a display of blue objects
in a bower, a tour of etchings, at least a bit of running
around in circles and a sniff under the tail.…
My proposition is that, unlike its amoebic partner,
building, architecture clocks in at this sensitive edge
of town. It needs to be a turn-on for those who engage
with it. So as not to abort or turn out as a mongrel, it
should respect courtship rigmarole and respond to the
sensibilities of its partners-in-life. For example, it should
convey an appropriate message of strength and safety,
of durability (or demountability), of cost-effectiveness
(or opulence), as well as be dressed in the right manner,
in the right clothes.
As soon as we think of clothes we imagine cut,
adorning patterns, coordinating colours, the addition
of jewellery, but also comfort and propriety. Similarly,
words soon morph into poetry and literature, or at least
a joke, but they must also communicate – that is, be
understood and make sense. Sounds lead us to music
or a soundscape, the painting of a picture of place and
activity through sound – but if not sung with feeling or
orchestrated properly, or taken out of context, they revert
to mere sounds, and leave us confused or irritated. Images
lead us to art, and again, emotive communication – if
they’re in the right context at the right time in the right
light for the right audience. And certain landscapes come
to be seen as beautiful, or even imbued with spiritual
meaning, but only if they’re understood and cared for,
and approached correctly and not trampled or scarred
by the uncaring.
So, too, in architecture we have aesthetic potential –
show – and we have the pragmatic and delicate notion of fit.
Or, to look at this balance in another way. As
disarmingly gorgeous as Marilyn Monroe or James Dean
or J-Lo or Brad Pitt might be/have been, that doesn’t mean
they’ve got the magic – the nuances of responsiveness
and mutual understanding that you – and that means
you – want to bed down with for life (or at least a week),
at least not compared to the person you’re reading this
next to (and if that happens to be in bed, then oh my!,
go back to para 1 and relearn the art of courtship).
So, again, show alone is not likely to be enough. Rather,
it seems that the great agent of procreation, courtship,
is designed to deliver on fit.
Which is good, because with fit there’s a richness
there that’s as deep as you wish to go, for procreation
and fit also convey that sense of past-now-future. Every
creature is proud of its young, and carries the marks
of its ancestors – and the language of its ancestors.
Their adoptive landscape is their inherited world. Most
(I can think of Western humanity as one exception)
innately adopt environmental and cultural habits that
maintain continuance of this world, their ecological
context. This includes an avoidance of poisons, and an
eye to resource management that limits the possibility
of over-harvesting and that fits with the rhythm of the
seasons. And so a future ensues.
So, too, it is with architecture. The notion of an
architecture that learns from the past does not mean one
that rediscovers and copies adorning flourishes and other
pastiches with which to clothe a new structure. Rather,
an architecture aware of its roots will learn the lessons of
its antecedents in affording meaningful shelter through
pleasing the gods (and masters and neighbours), in
incorporating technologies, skills and materials to forge
a fit with place and time. An architecture that is rooted in
its past (rather than merely dipping into it) will work in
an understandable language – it will resonate (on and on).
Architecture built of these lessons will innately seek
to respect its setting, avoid polluting industries and
toxic substances, draw frugally from a place’s resource
availabilities, and respond to climate and seasons. And
so a built fabric for the future will continue to unroll.
Architecture matters because we as creatures need
a show, and we need a fit; and for some, even better: a
bloody good show and a bloody good fit. No show and no
fit and our very spirit may shrivel up and die. It would be
terrible to revert to a primordial pond where as amoeba
we inhabit mere buildings.
Phil Harris is a director of Troppo Architects and has
a very nice dog (who loves him).
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Copyright © 2010 Architecture Media Pty Ltd
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