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Evoke feelings and/or emotions within the human spirit. It should arouse the senses; to transport a person to that exact place in that exact moment. To “stop and smell the roses” is the phrase in which I like to begin:

Most of the time we are all too busy with our lives to give a moment to appreciate our surroundings. We work on "autopilot" all too often. Television, radio, cell phones, texting, friends, family, responsibility--do you allow yourself 30 minutes of silence a day to reflect on the things that are buzzing around you? Western culture has little appreciation for the values of focusing on the "here" and "now".

Great architecture, to me, is able to demand my attention in such a way that I am fixed in that space. Imagine if you walk into a cathedral such as the Winchester Cathedral in England. The close attention paid to the craft, the lighting, and the space generated from the design absolutely demands that you stop, take a breath, look down the central nave, and view the height—the delicate ornamentation, etc… That room grabs you by the throat and says “TAKE A MOMENT......................”

To create a series of these “moments” throughout the building would indeed make for an exquisite building. When you go to an art museum that’s filled with many pieces, many times you cannot give every single work of art the same amount of undivided attention—so you shut your brain off for a while and let your eyes take over. Your thoughts roam around meaninglessly until a spark—a particular piece of art captures your eye. You can’t help but find it intriguing. You may have found a common value with the artist that he/she put into their work. If you were to go to a gallery with many pieces of art that you found enjoyable, I’d imagine you would have some sense of enlightenment after leaving that particular museum. Architecture that is able to leave with you that same sense of enlightenment, in my opinion, is darn good architecture. This is not to say that I find certain styles more attractive than others, I feel that many types of architecture are able to do this—it is all in how the designer/artist/architect wants to transport the viewer.

There is a relationship between the architect and the person(s) experiencing the building made in good architecture. The architect has to put them self into the shoes of the person and think “what is this entrance like? What do I see? How does this make me feel?”  The person experiencing the building stops and says “What was the architect trying to achieve here? How and why did they create this entrance this way?” Through this disjointed communication, the glue that joins the viewer and the creator is the concept. Without concept, there is no foundation for spirit.  

The architect projects these future experiences and controls them through the concept. If a building’s concept is to “isolate” then the architect must know what isolation feels like firsthand—and recreate those feelings within that imaginary building that he/she forms.  Everything within the design should ultimately reference isolation in one way or another. This is the path in which everything in the design is governed. The function of a building is important, but function can be achieved in through infinitely variable ways.  There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Although there are “better” ways to accommodate functionality, I believe the feelings that a building generate are superior to merely the function.

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Generic spaces are stagnant and designed without spirit. I find many buildings very spiritual, even if they do not serve any particular religious purpose. I most identify with many Japanese architects like Tadao Ando and Kengo Kuma. They pay extremely close attention to the craft, the site, and how the spaces will affect a human being.  One of my favorite buildings I saw when I first started architecture school was Ando’s Water Chapel. Even though I was only able to experience this building through images, I yearned to go sit on those pews and enjoy the sounds of nature myself. There are plenty of small ponds similar to the one shown in the image above found in my area, but the architecture responds so well to that site. Ando executed his design so that you would want to do exactly that--meditate and enjoy the sights and sound of nature.

I feel that a building is best experienced alone—or at least experienced with a sense of solitude. When our class took a trip to Houston last year we were given the chance to walk through many great buildings. I felt so much more connected to the design, the architect, the site, and pretty much everything about that building when I was able to take my time and do it on my own.  Although having fellow classmates and professors accompany me was nice—the connection was lost. I felt like I could only give so much of my attention up at one time.  For clarity’s sake, it is good to have someone to bounce ideas and theories off with later on about such building(s).
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  Good architects pay close attention to the exploration of materials, the craft, lighting and space--these things to me are what affect the spirit of a place more than anything else. When I begin designing a building, I first explore the site given.  Depending on the building type, client, and other important factors that play a role in the program I derive some sort of concept.  With the concept, I am able to begin explorations of forms, materials, and light. The more specialized the design becomes, the stronger the spirit becomes. Like I said before, a generic space that only accommodates the function has no spirit. I must put myself in the shoes of the client and derive the feelings and/or emotions that the building ensues within me.

Architecture should be poetry--it should create a desire for us to interpret it and relate to it in our own way.

Analysis of the site is the most important factor when beginning a design. It is not just the particular plot or site that the architect builds upon--the architect should take in ALL of the surroundings--the surrounding buildings (if there are any), and the communication of one building to another. One of the most irritating things I see just about everyday in my own town are individual parking lots down a road. Most small American towns have a main road or street that contains gas stations, fast food restaurants, and small businesses.  Have you ever noticed that if you need to go into the building beside the one you're at, you have to turn out onto a street into busy traffic, get into a turning lane and make your turn into the next parking lot. Wouldn't it be much easier if you could just drive right to it? Now, I'm not saying that every business should be like a mini mall with huge parking lots, but there should be a connection and communication between each building. It should accommodate a human being--not a consumer that owns 1 car and 2.5 children. There are social contexts in which to examine that are incredibly important that are very often overlooked in mainstream building design. Maybe this is due to the fact that there is a skewed system already in place and one individual does not have the power in which to change it by him/her-self. A good architect should want to create a good community, not just a good building.


Daniel Libeskind says in his lecture above: “architecture is not the language of words. It’s a language, but it’s not a language that can be reduced to programmatic notes that we can verbally write. Too many buildings that you see outside that are so banal tell a story, but the story is very short: it says ‘we have no story to tell you’”.  I feel that he hits the nail on the head with this. He is saying that there is a lack of spirit and expression in many buildings.  Why is architecture so hard to change? The revolution in art (from artist that did commissioned works only to support a salary versus artists that did works to express themselves and in-turn made a salary) happened over a century ago. We (as Americans) drive mostly new vehicles, have the latest technology, and adhere by the current fashion--but why are buildings still being designed now with the same notions as what we had 50 years ago?  Maybe since architecture is a permanent fixture in space, or that architecture has a much longer functional life than many other types of art...
And I digress— I would like for architecture to bring us out of the industrial ditch that we have dug ourselves into and to revert back to nature.  This brings me back to the theme of meditation and reflection.  My favorite time of the day is right when I crawl into bed and am able to stop and remind myself of everything that had happened to me throughout the day. It brings me together to a sense of wholeness. There are buildings that I feel achieve this same type of feeling.

An exquisite work of architecture, to me, is Peter Zumthor's Thermal Baths located in Graubünden, Switzerland. Zumthor was able to create spaces that communicated wonderfully with the site, he explored the importance of using earthly materials (such as the stone), the craft was executed very well (notice the connection between the wall and ceiling as to let light creep in), and viewed how human beings would interact in these spaces. He created rooms in which many people could bathe and enjoy the geothermal water, but he also created small pools in which 1 or 2 individuals could relax on their own. He paid close attention to craft, the lighting, the spaces, and most importantly—the spirit that the building was going to create.




 


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