Remember "design is a patient search," by one of the
Euros, I think. And true for much of what passes for
what is collectively considered to be the best of architecture,
most of which is bounded by the tried and found pleasurably
workable -- delight, commodity and X, another formula for
soothing frazzled nerves when nothing seems to be working
out.
To break the bounds, to go beyond nervousness and high
anxiety at meeting reasonable limitations of "scope, schedule and
budget," requires foolhardy experimentation, random exploration,
nutty misunderstandings and misapplication of the canon
of practice and moderation.
Scientists and engineers speak of the sweet spot of balancing
forceful intent against implacable nature's ancient way of
doing things: just the right enough explosive power and aerodynamics
to loft a rocket into space, the naval architecture of a steel hulled
vessel, nuturing successful transplant of human organs, any
human invention that attempts to do what common sense appears
to show impossible.
What of those imaginary designs yet to be built, lacking even
a starting place, a tradition to draw from or rebel against, those
which dwelling on make you feel terror of going further? Without
precedent, mentor, or wisdom of the ages. No teacher to
encourage, no client to pay, no world of welcome. Instead, alarms
and warnings: don't think that, don't do that, don't be foolish,
it'll never work. Do this, do that, be reasonable and moderate,
avoid extremes, don't waste time on frivolity, keep your head
down, "don't think, CAD" -- this latter phrase is the most common
command of the day, as were its predecessor mindbinders to
copy, copy, copy, always copy, from Sweets, from AGS, from
manufacturers' handy-candy disks and clients' predesigned modules
and school libraries and senior consultant copiers and Name copiers,
daydream not of what has never been done, not here in the
real world; if you must, do that on your own time, boss-intern-fucker
says.
That's what known of the practice of practicality, and it's almost
insane to go against that sweet spot of reasonableness and
moderation, to go against what's tried and true, what'll fly,
what'll float, what'll transplant successfully.
Almost. Hooray for experience-defying Houdini escape from
yesterday's and today's architecture, how else to discover
tomorrow's terrifying unknown pleasures.
Poor Muschamp, even he has succumbed to the siren of
reconstituted history and well-behaved design, professional
bad boys always do as ecstacy of the unknown is overtaken by
sedative wisdom of the way truth and beauty are meant to be --
formulaic, world class, superb dinner companion flea-pick.
Euros, I think. And true for much of what passes for
what is collectively considered to be the best of architecture,
most of which is bounded by the tried and found pleasurably
workable -- delight, commodity and X, another formula for
soothing frazzled nerves when nothing seems to be working
out.
To break the bounds, to go beyond nervousness and high
anxiety at meeting reasonable limitations of "scope, schedule and
budget," requires foolhardy experimentation, random exploration,
nutty misunderstandings and misapplication of the canon
of practice and moderation.
Scientists and engineers speak of the sweet spot of balancing
forceful intent against implacable nature's ancient way of
doing things: just the right enough explosive power and aerodynamics
to loft a rocket into space, the naval architecture of a steel hulled
vessel, nuturing successful transplant of human organs, any
human invention that attempts to do what common sense appears
to show impossible.
What of those imaginary designs yet to be built, lacking even
a starting place, a tradition to draw from or rebel against, those
which dwelling on make you feel terror of going further? Without
precedent, mentor, or wisdom of the ages. No teacher to
encourage, no client to pay, no world of welcome. Instead, alarms
and warnings: don't think that, don't do that, don't be foolish,
it'll never work. Do this, do that, be reasonable and moderate,
avoid extremes, don't waste time on frivolity, keep your head
down, "don't think, CAD" -- this latter phrase is the most common
command of the day, as were its predecessor mindbinders to
copy, copy, copy, always copy, from Sweets, from AGS, from
manufacturers' handy-candy disks and clients' predesigned modules
and school libraries and senior consultant copiers and Name copiers,
daydream not of what has never been done, not here in the
real world; if you must, do that on your own time, boss-intern-fucker
says.
That's what known of the practice of practicality, and it's almost
insane to go against that sweet spot of reasonableness and
moderation, to go against what's tried and true, what'll fly,
what'll float, what'll transplant successfully.
Almost. Hooray for experience-defying Houdini escape from
yesterday's and today's architecture, how else to discover
tomorrow's terrifying unknown pleasures.
Poor Muschamp, even he has succumbed to the siren of
reconstituted history and well-behaved design, professional
bad boys always do as ecstacy of the unknown is overtaken by
sedative wisdom of the way truth and beauty are meant to be --
formulaic, world class, superb dinner companion flea-pick.