In the broad river that is architecture, there are many competing claims and styles. Some fail from grace, like the British School of Brutalism pioneered by husband and wife team Alison and Peter Smithson, whilst others are re-invented and reinterpreted in a myriad of forms, perhaps the international style of Mies van der Rohe is a good example.
However, it seems to me, that within this cacophony of disparate trends and movements, what is “good” architecture is that which, regardless of its form, respects and compliments its location and those who use it. This creation, and subsequent division, of space is the ultimate craft of the architect, and the imbuing of that space with meaning and resonance is the ultimate end. If you think about those buildings that you like, or maybe even respect, it is the artful fusion of creation, intent and finishing that defines the good above and beyond any particular fetish for style or genre. The graceful fulcra upon which the roof of the rebuilt cathedral of Coventry rests are a world away from the buttresses of Chartres, but they both sing with the sublime purpose of architecture to create a world in which visions of space and light are made manifest.
Inversely, that which in some way is deficient is usually denoted by the leadeness of touch, the poor execution and at its worse, the divorce of the purpose of any one structure from its eventual form. This is not a simple repeat of Bauhaus desires, but it is a personal belief that there should be some melding of space and purpose.
And it is here that I turn, with a heavy heart, to the building that currently houses my department. This is not to say the building is an “epic-fail” or that I dislike it without exception (the large hexagonal windows are excellent for example), but it does seem to me to fall short of its professed goals for a number of reasons.
From the outside, it is a gleaming monolith of white molded concrete, rising obscenely from its surroundings and overshadowing the buildings next to it. It makes a statement, but there appears to have been little thought to what statement it makes beyond “we are here”, as if the very act of making a statement was in and of itself worthy. Darkened windows peer out in a modern day invocation of the archery slits of 13th century battlements. Indeed we are only a few machicolations away from a siege mentality. It is an academic building ill at ease with inclusivity and openness, whose stark linearity professes an insecurity of context and an insensitivity to its manifest purpose.
Internally it is arranged as a hexagon, a large atrium space rises from floor to celling, and is covered over by a thick roof into which sun-lights have been recessed in a variety of geometric ways. This is the most successful part of the building, the space , whilst ultimately squat, is helped by vertical wooden panneling that draws the eye upwards, although this effect is mitigated somewhat by protruding balcony and stairwells.
What this results in, however, is a ring of offices of which only those on the outside of the building have windows in the traditional sense, although because of the sinuous form those windows take, some have mere chinks of glass, whilst others command panoramic views. Those offices which face into the atrium open inside the building. This facilitates at least two further issues. Firstly, gone is the presence of fresh air, natural sunlight or any appreciation of the “outside”. Internally it is world unto itself, where lights must be kept on even during the sunniest days, and a faulty air conditioning system circulating stale air replaces the summer breeze. Secondly, and perhaps most insultingly, the space in the atrium is used for all manner of meetings, coffee breaks and time outs. The noise reverberates across the space, forcing you to either close your “window” or to don expensive sound muffling headphones in order to actually achieve peace. A building that is designed for study and enquiry becomes instead an echo filled nightmare of distraction. Now, of course the building is intended for teaching and conferences, and who am I to claim sole ownership of its purpose, but surely there are ways to fuse those competing aims together harmoniously, or at least in such a way as to limit their currently antagonistic relationship. For those who live in the sunny uplands that are external offices, this may all seem trite, but for those proto-Morlocks who labour in the gloom of an introspective purgatory it is a daily annoyance made all the more rilingby the fact that it seems so willfully insensitive
It is a building of competing statements, each half done. Lights are placed at jaunty angles that sometimes complement, sometimes contradict, the pattern on the carpets. Eggshell greys and autumnal browns compete with pine laminate to wash the world of colour. The circularity of the buildings layout leads to endless corridors and whilst it may perhaps allow for the “flow” of people around the building, it also facilitates the allusion to a panoptican of academic proportions.
It has become a building that causes resentment amongst those so exiled, in which I choose to not work because it does not promote work. In which having a window, or not, has become some unspoken marker of species differentiation. It is a building that isolates those inside from the “outside” that they seek to understand, and which merely confirms the opinion of the outsider of academia as a closetted dweller of an ivory hexagon.
The only thing worse than being a bore is being a repetitious bore. I am sure that it says that somewhere in whatever holy book you care to refer to…. it was probably either the Bible or Delia’s Christmas Collection…. probably the former, given Mrs. Smith’s seemingly unlimited capacity to re-invent the Cranberry may well preclude her from any great utterances on the dangers of duplication.
Its raining outside, it has been raining for a long time, that surprisingly heavy rain that Australia can muster when it puts it mind to it. For those of you who check the Canberra Dam Levels, this will contribute nicely to the recent upwards trend. I am sitting in my little room, the TV blaring some ghastly Hollywood action movie which sees coiffured stars succumb to the perils of mediocre scriptwriting.The building is stale, the recent spring sun seeping warmth into the double brick walls. I can hear the raindrops quite distinctly drumming on a plastic veranda roof outside.
In a way what I am feeling is timeless, as vast an expanse of continuous emotion as I can think of, the horizon lost in all directions. My life feels taut on its monotony, a constant worry humming in my chest. This constant dread of going to the office, the incessant growing anger at no one actually supervising me, despite promises that I tried to believe. The same old gossip and issues emerging again and again. The brief respite that is the weekend, the dread that is Monday morning. I have been with this thesis twice as long as I was with Cameron and longer than I lived in London. (more…)
Before the Crisis ASEAN was Secure
In its commitment to the tried and tested way
But then it had to say bonjour
To the consequences of all that financial dismay
And turmoil this did create
Its people calling out for more
Wanting the side effects of tyranny to abate
A community to make ASEAN something to not abhor
This was a most promising opportunity
The chance at a better future
But Myanmar acted with impunity
Rending apart the region that together they could not re-suture
A woeful tale of failure we see
When ASEAN sought something more to be
I feel blue.
I had to spend 230$ on my mac hard drive, cos it died…. just when I needed it. Apparently this is a common occurance, which should dampen my love of apple products… it hasn’t, but i think it should have.
Last night part of my tooth fell out. I was munching nutrigrain and it fell out. It was just a chip (albeit a large chip) of the enamal off of the back of one of the molars to the back (left side for those who are interested). I have to pay to get this sorted out, and if it is something terrible like root canal, then we are looking at thousands…. lots of thousands…. this makes me sad… and it hurts…. not a lot, but a little bit more every hour.
All that is wrong with my life, all that I have made wrong through bad choices or rather inevitable choices that have bad consequences, plays like quiet music throughout the day. If I keep busy, if I rush about, then I can drown it out with the hubbub of regularity…. if it bursts through, in a newly emptied office, or just in the stillness of a quiet evening, then god helps us.
I am watching new 90210, dear god shoot me now
on the upside, I am loving my phone, and everything with nathan is peachy…..
but my tooth still hurts….
