2006 Ken Roberts Memorial Delineation Competion: A Call for Entries

The practice of architecture involves a wide variety of intersecting disciplines. Art, Physics, Math, Philosophy, Sociology, Religion, Biology are all emodied in the way we shape our built environment. Such matters often come into focus long before the final construction drawings are completed during the intial design phases. In contrast to the dull, highly specific information found in a construction drawing set, the first few sketches and colored renderings reveal a building's driving concept with dramatic clarity. Visual communications are essential on conveying ideas that are impossible to articulate verbally. Designers who have mastered skills in drawing and rendering frequently provoke greater receptiveness to their ideas. An elegant rendering of a building will sell a building far more than a well executed set of technical drawings.

Architecture competions have been common for a long time as a means of stimulating novel design solutions to a chosen site. The juries that select winners of these competitions judge submissions based on the merits of the project's concept, its appropriateness to the given problem and the effectiveness of its presentation. The renderings of these submissions are often dazzling and in isolation are true works of art.

And yet there are few if any major architectural competitions that award the artistry and sophisticated techniques involved in architectural rendering. It is for this reason that the Dallas chapter of the American Institute of Architects has sponsored for 32 years the most senior architectural drawing competion in the world, the Ken Roberts Memorial Delineation Competition. Continuing a yearly tradition the began in the late 1920's by the Architectural League of New York, the Ken Roberts awards both architectural professionals and students who exhibit outstanding ability in hand illustration as well as computer-based rendering. Entries to come from throughout the country, and it is hoped that an even broader number of submissions from around the globe are received for this year's competition.

I've chosen to volunteer in the promotion of the Ken Roberts competition partly out of the inspiration I get from looking at the numerous striking renderings found in professional studios as well as in the darker corners of architecture schools. It is a valuable opportunity for anyone engaged in the pursuit of building design to exhibit their talents as illustrators. If you are one of the many from the field of architecture are quite pround of at least one of the drawings you prepared for a school project or for a real-life building, I encourage you to submit it to the Ken Roberts Competition before the end of this coming October. The competition is open to everyone, whether from the U.S. or abroad, whether as a student or as a professional. Student work will be judge in a category separate from professionals, and work that has been hand-drawn will be evaluated separately from computer-derived examples.

For the first time this year, entries can be submitted electronically (by either PDF or JPEG of a certain size), though you can deliver your entry by mail if you wish. Multiple entries are encouraged, and illustrations in any kind of media are welcome. There is a $400 cash prize for best hand-delineated entry, as well as another prize for best entry in digital media. The Best of Show entry, which may be either done by hand or digitally, will receive $500. Recipients of the jurors citation awards will receive a $100.00 gift certificate from Asel Art Supply. The awards will be presented on November 8th, and the winning entries will be exhibited at the AIA Dallas for two months thereafter.

Such awards are pretty generous considering that you might have already have a competitive entry lying around from recent school work or or ongoing commissioned project. No lost hours incurred from devising entire building schemes from scratch as demanded by most architectural competitions. Architects invest much time and effort in crafting projects, but rarely are true gems that result from the design of buildings ever recognized.

Pllease visit the official web site at http://krob06.com/, which will show examples of previous winners, as well as the kind of jurors that will pick the winners. Contact us at infoRequest@krob06.com for any questions you might have. Please tell anyone you know who might be interested about the competition, and the Ken Roberts committee will be more than happy to answer any of your questions.

Click on these two images which provide detailed information regarding the Ken Roberts Memorial Delineation Competition.

Keepin' It Weird by Keepin' It the Same

Upon returning from my recent trip through the American Midwest, I’ve been reminded about how controversial architecture can be. Although few non-architects could tell you much about who the most famous architects are or what style a given building portrays, everybody has an opinion about which buildings are good or bad for their community. One often thinks that the construction of brand new buildings, whether they are new offices, residences, or civic landmarks is a sign of optimism and hope in the future. To outsiders, major construction projects are signs that a city is economically or at least fiscally healthy. From the point of view of poor inhabitants who have long struggled in communities offering few opportunities, the sight of construction cranes and scaffolding must buoy their spirits to witness something that is nothing but good.

But a city’s growth is also about its change into something permanently different. Although man is an adaptable creature that can overcome any change in his environment, he is also one that relishes a sense of predictability which allows him to be comfortable in his surroundings. It seems that the more a community prospers, the more concerns about quality of life arise, and the more antagonism against urban growth and change gain strength. NIMBY-ism (Not In My Back Yard) is often a response common to wealthier areas of a city against a new development that threatens its quality of life, usually because the people in those areas have achieved an ideal state that demands predictable comfort. Although cases of NIMBY-ism usually involve issues such as ecological impact and aesthetic disruption, the underlying conflict is informed by a fear of permanent change brought on by transforming the built environment.

In talking to a small group of residents in Madison, Wisconsin, I heard many opinions against the city’s growth. Whether it was the rapid rise of condominium towers dotting downtown, the recently built Frank Lloyd Wright-designed convention center, to the brand-new performing arts center, each development was suspect as to the actual benefit the state’s capital city. The typical questions were usually: Who can afford all these condominiums? What was wrong with the old civic auditorium? Isn’t the push to build convention centers really just a last-ditch effort by the city for desperately awaited revenue? Such criticisms that center on the actual need for a new facility, the dubious speculation for the elite or its flawed economics are actually quite valid. Since these criticisms are based on established facts and existing reality on the ground, they are often more persuasive than arguments for new buildings that rely on unverifiable estimates and abstract visions.

Madison is a university town and therefore is host to an eccentric cultural scene consisting of bohemians and traditional social outcasts. Many in the city relish its role as a liberal bastion surrounded the relative conservative rural areas that characterize the rest of Wisconsin. The emergence of new structures that symbolize wealth, bourgeois aspirations (the performing arts center, condos) and competitive boosterism (convention center, luxury hotels) goes against the communal and left-wing instincts of many of its long-time residents. There is a natural fear that the very fabric of the community is threatened by a new influx of middle and upper-income migrants which bring their own set of values that contrast sharply with native Madisonians.

This is similar to what is going on in Austin, a city which mirrors Madison in many ways except that it is a bit bigger and its transition to a bustling commercial center far more advanced. The slogan over there is “keep Austin weird”, which denotes that there was a time when the character of the city was indeed far more eccentric and that it should remain so. There are large portions of the city that still contain residents of a hippy and decidedly left-wing (or morally libertarian) leanings, but it is becoming more and more in difficult to stay due to rapidly rising real estate values. Yuppies are moving in, the tech sector dominates the local economy, and suburban growth encroaches ever further west towards the Hill Country plateau west of the city while massive new highways and bridges are being built to accommodate suburbs to the north (e.g. Roundrock). The consensus among long-time residents of Austin is that it wasn’t quite the place it once was (its golden age occurring during the 1970s). Aside from its distinct topography, there less that distinguishes Austin from other cities in Texas.

To those who oppose the city’s growth and development, it’s not only the loss of what once was but also what a particular faction could call as their own. There is little tolerance among the liberal-bohemians for newcomers that follow more traditional bourgeois lifestyles, who desire single-detached houses with two-car garage on quarter-acre lots. They accuse young professional singles who are buying condominiums downtown of homogenizing the city’s once supposedly distinctive night-life, while engendering the gradual bulldozing of old community businesses with new fitness gyms, grocery stores and other modern amenities.

In essence, such constant griping sounded by these factions, whether in Austin or Madison, is in essence a distinctly conservative impulse. Their opinions on these matters is based on their wish that the city’s growth remains static; or better, for the city to undo its recent growth and to become hospitable again to more liberal bohemians like themselves. This faction organizes itself to promote zero-growth policies against further development, rallying around protecting the local environment or preserving the city’s ‘authentic’ identity. The irony is that such policies only accelerate the rise in property values and with them unaffordable property taxes. Aside from the few former hippies who became business tycoons, most of these liberal bohemians earn relatively little income running low-profit businesses like trinket-selling shops and casual restaurants, or working in low-wage jobs in larger stores. This reality further undermines this faction to maintain the old status-quo, as cities often change to the dictates of its local business elites with considerable political leverage, not citizen-based coalitions who contribute relatively little tax revenue to the city’s coffers. The most these coalitions can accomplish is to stall development, which is often opposed by cash-starved city councils accommodating developers with tax credits on the promise that a new development will generate much needed tax revenue. Such political dynamics typical in most large municipalities overwhelms any grassroots effort with its own ideas on what their city should become.

The establishment of Madison’s new performing arts complex, the Overture Center, is a case in point. City politicians, always searching for ways to levy ever more revenue under the pressure of ever-rising budgets, are usually receptive to proposals that will stimulate new economic activity and consequent new tax revenue. Along comes a wealth businessman, Jerome Frautschi, who donates 205 million dollars of his own money to build a brand new state of the art performance hall with art galleries in the center of the city. The fact that the site of the new complex is located along State Street, Madison’s most cherished street for eccentrics, instigated heavy opposition from the liberal-bohemian faction. As part of a half-mile long pedestrian promenade fronted by an eclectic assortment of storefront facades from all periods, the Overture Center’s clean Modernist lines and its large scale (it occupies an entire urban block) are obvious visual intrusions to one’s impression of State Street. But the biggest underlying threat to partisans of the traditional State Street is the Overture Center’s effect on surrounding property values and taxes. Rents for the ground level retail spaces along the street have begun to rise, ensuring that many of the low yield-locally owned businesses that offer specialized fair will be unable to remain. National chain stores have gradually taken their place, as they are usually the only kind of tenants who can absorb the higher rents. In all the city’s coffers will probably make out well in the long run, collecting higher taxes from more valuable properties, at the cost of losing the former character of its best-known street.

Another major point of disgruntlement among the liberal-bohemian faction is that the city has to now maintain the Overture Center with tax dollars. Although operating expenses for the new center are expected to be a lot larger than the old civic auditorium it replaced, they are probably a small portion of the city’s annual overall budget. And despite the fact that the building’s construction was completely paid for with private dollars there has been widespread objection that taxpayers should ever contribute to the upkeep of a major cultural landmark for the city. It’s often the case that those who complain the loudest about how their tax dollars are spent are the ones who contribute relatively the least. Those who pay the most taxes and assume the greatest tax liability of any income group are often those who do desire a world-class facility and a desire to for their city to gain broader prestige. Such abstract aspirations are inherently bourgeois and antithetical to the values of community, simplicity and contemplation of the liberal bohemian faction.

After touring by myself the Overture Center without my friends’ knowledge (who shun it with passion) I was impressed by how well it turned out. Cesar Pelli’s scheme works well in transitioning the change in built scale from the administrative office district one side to the three story-high storefronts on the other side. A crisp modern idioms is in full display, sharply contrasting anything around it, but inserting an intriguing dialogue between its elegant formality and the hodge-podge casualness of the rest of the street. The site is distinct along State Street, as it occurs right to where the street itself terminates to the Wisconsin state capitol. The capitol is surrounded by much larger scale buildings containing offices, museum, and condos used by white-collar workers who likely would demand structures that lend prestige. One can get wonderful views of the city from the top steps of the Overture Center’s lobbies. What I think is helpful about the Center’s location is that it adds more programmatic complexity to a street that is mostly one long walk full of eateries, trinket stores, and small apparel shops. Now there is actual art to look at, a concert performed by a highly trained ensemble (as opposed to those oh-so-talented street performers), and a play to watch.

Unlike those factions who oppose almost any plan for future urban development, I embrace the view that the city is an unceasingly dynamic entity. Structures come and go, communities mutate through the ages in response to changes in the built environment. Certain patterns remain through time, such as the city’s street grid, its natural features as well as its sacred places that embody timeless importance to each generation of inhabitants. One thing that a city isn’t is an unchanging one, with its rises and declines often occurring many times over through long spans of time. For factions who have specific image of what their city should be, it should help to ask and consider what other groups’ ideas for they want their cities to become.

Cities are diverse places, a confluence a competing ideas and visions. For one minority group to hold the rest of the city captive to its narrow goals counters the messy give-and-take and ephemeral phenomena that make cities such exciting places. Maybe it’s just me but I look forward to seeing new buildings every time I return to the same city, since it satisfies my desire in witnessing progress in time and space.

Update: Here's a thoughtful post on urban dynamism from Dallas' very own Virginial Postrel.

I Hold the Ramsey’s Partly Responsible

I recently went to a county fair where I saw some kids I work with show off their cattle, hoping to place high enough to compete in the state fair. They were so proud of their heifers, steers and bulls, to the point where they spent hours grooming them, from making their tails bushy with cow hairspray to ridding them of all the excrement they routinely walk in. I couldn’t help but note the irony that Miss Champaign County was walking around, complete with sash letting everyone know who she was. I wonder if anyone else noted the eerie similarity between the way we parade cattle around and the way we parade ourselves around?

I completely understand the need to show and place cows; this is a way of ensuring we are good stewards of the animals, that we take care of them and get the most we can out of them. It also helps us scientifically understand more about the way cows are used for food and genetics, and helps us place a fair market value on them. (I am told there is simply no comparison in the quality of today’s cattle from 50 years ago. Thanks to these types of competition, cattle quality is superior to that from previous generations.) Now, why we do it with ourselves is beyond me. Just when I think we’re civilized, we do something as primitive as beauty pageants.

What’s even worse than Miss USA, however, is that 5 year-olds compete in these as well. Isn’t that a little too young to teach children that beauty is only skin deep? Pardon the cliché, but I don’t know what other values these sorts of pageants can possibly teach these children. Besides, of course, good posture. For that reason, I hold the Ramsey’s partly responsible for the death of their daughter. Even though it appears that someone is finally confessing to the murder of JonBenet Ramsey, I am not quite so ready to exonerate them for their part in making their daughter a target. I realize in the eyes of the law, they are innocent and even model citizens. But in a world where pedophilia is on the rise, why would you subject your daughter to such emotional brutality?

It is irritating that we look the other way when parents allow their children (who are barely old enough to even remember these formative years of their life) to participate in such sick competitions. Does it really matter that a child can wear make up, or dance or sing at the age of 5? Why is it okay that we glamorize this lifestyle, when the children have no opportunity to say no?

It is this sort of activity that reminds me that so many of our problems in America are self-inflicted. Systemic poverty and no father among the poor? This wasn’t nearly as big a problem before LBJ’s Great Society. Lung disease, diabetes and obesity? Smoking and high-sugar diets seem to help bring these on. I don’t want to turn this into a complaining session. I just want to point out that while the Ramsey’s didn’t inflict the fatal blow, they were complicit in what I see as a very sick culture. Perhaps the right people haven’t made the compelling arguments for putting children in this sort of limelight. But to me, it is asking for trouble when we see the totality of the human person in such a narrow light. After all, what else are we expected to value about JonBenet if her own parents don’t see beyond her glamorous possibilities?

Prophets and Martyrs: Can You Choose to Be Either?

In both the radical right wing of Islam and the radical left wing of Mainline Protestants, I see a resurgence of classical religious paradigms: the prophet and the martyr. As I hear of “martyrs” on suicide missions trying to wipe out as much of the West as possible or left-leaning American “prophets” critical of the West’s economic or foreign policies, I can’t help but think that not only are these two groups strange bedfellows, they also have come to rely on faulty understandings of both vocations. More problematic than that, however, is the arrogance it must take to give yourself the title of prophet or martyr, an arrogance which negates either title from being applicable.

Part of the problem with these words being so carelessly thrown around is that they will negate the power of the prophet or martyr’s role. Because history generally respects true prophets and martyrs, modern day self-idolizers have taken to use the term as they think it applies to them, hoping to borrow the power of the title to claim a monopoly on all things just, right, and ordained of God. I had similar thoughts when I wrote this. When someone starts talking about “social justice,” all of a sudden, we assume they are the all-caring, all-knowing, all-feeling god/goddess of compassion, when actually, they are at times selfishly claiming a monopoly on truth. But just because someone claims it doesn’t make it so. The same is true here. I am hoping the time is coming were self-assigned prophets and martyrs are ignored, so the real prophets among us may be listened to, and the real martyrs remembered.

I am by no means an Old Testament scholar, but the knowledge I do have tells me that prophets were two things that modern day prophets often are not: chosen by God, and generally unpopular. To be a prophet means to say things that invariably go against the tide, but often speaking to your own group. Amos spoke to his own group about their hypocrisies. Didn’t Elijah, Elisha, and Jonah also do the same? The prophets of old spoke to the Israelites, to remind them of their covenants with God, to keep them on the right path, am I wrong? And for this, they were often hated, appreciated like most great artists well after their deaths. To be a prophet should not involve media celebrity, but more likely a lonely life, one that involves isolation, betrayal, and possibility of death. (The martyrs I mention below could use some good prophets.) John the Baptist is the greatest New Testament example of the costs of prophecy (besides Jesus Christ himself who holds the job title “prophet” in a singular manner given his divine status). John spoke against the sexual antics of his own Jewish (or part Jewish) king, Herod. Ultimately, it cost him his head on a platter.

So when I hear left-leaning Christians confuse policy matters in DC with prophecy, when I hear them say that they are the new prophets who are called to fight for change, I must confess that my usually iron stomach is weakened. Besides bad economics, I find most self-acclaimed “prophets” in liberal mainline churches to be people that are angry at the world for their “exclusionary practices”, and instead of choosing humility before God and Church, they designate themselves “prophets” and demand to be included, no matter the reason they aren’t. But being prophetic does not merely mean railing at those who don’t like you; it means calling God’s people back to God. If you are doing prophetic work, it will speak for itself. The title will come in good time.

As far as martyrs go, doesn’t it seem rather arrogant to name yourself a martyr? Like that of the prophet, shouldn’t that designation be assigned by someone else? If being a martyr is a privilege, or an honor, how humble is it to choose how one will do it? Also, what is the distinction between being a defender of the faith until the point of death, and knowingly killing innocent people and yourself, supposedly for the faith?

I realize this strikes most sane people as obvious, but Nazi’s killing you because you’re a priest standing for your faith before the state is not the same as suicide that takes out women and children in the process. Martyrs die for what they believe, because the hostile world has left them only these two options: give up your faith or die. Until the world or even their home nation quits allowing Muslims to practice their faith, they commit a grave error in calling themselves martyrs. They are not faced with the limited options of life or faith. In most parts of the world, they have the option to have both. Unfortunately, the same is not true for Christians, who are regularly persecuted in Muslim nations, not to mention communist nations.

Does they miss the hypocrisy completely? That which they feel they are victims of they themselves commit! What audacity to proclaim themselves martyrs, when their faith is tolerated in so many of the countries that they hate. It is not up to me or any non-Muslim to straighten out their doctrine; Islamic leaders, if the faith is capable of all that the optimists say it is, must proclaim that this is not martyrdom but an evil manipulation of any religion outside of Satanism. It is so hard for me to imagine Christians ignoring Tim McVeigh if he said his execution was martyrdom, yet this goes on the Islamic world all too often.

Sarcasm: The New Generations' Weapon of Choice

Hanging out with 12 to 16-year olds for two weeks on two different church camps recently made me realize again how popular sarcasm is a method of communicating for that age group. One quip after another proved that honest open communication and even affection between teenagers is somewhat rare, happening in private, behind closed doors if at all. It seemed much easier for these kids to relate with other in exaggerated manners of speaking, self-deprecation and mutual teasing more than simply being honest and concerned for each other. Don’t get me wrong; these were great kids with good hearts. They’ve just learned that sarcasm is a “better” way for them to relate to one another. And sarcasm as the preferred way to speak is not limited only to teenagers. Generation X has long prized sarcasm as a valuable skill.

I remember in my single days (as of 08/06/06, I am officially no longer single, thank God) reading profiles on myspace.com or similar websites, and remarking how often people looked for others with a penchant for sarcasm. Not only that, but when Gen Xers described themselves, it was clear that they saw their sarcastic tendancies as one of their greatest gifts to offer others in a relationship. This question kept coming up in my mind: why would anyone value such an annoying characteristic in someone else? Didn’t we avoid such people in the past because it was hard to see them as trustworthy, or certainly as very straight shooters? Since when did sarcasm become such a worthwhile possession? It is true that good sarcasm at the right time and place can be wonderful wit. If used sparingly in familiar company, a lot of laughs can be derived from sarcasm.

But we’ve reached a time when sarcasm is not used sparingly, but persistently, and annoyingly. My theory is that sarcasm is en vogue because Generations X and Y have a hard time relating in mature ways with one others in their age range. (I’m not sure which I’m a part of; I think I barely made that troubled Gen X.) Even at a time when sex in some form or another is practiced by many middle school age and most high school age kids, sarcasm is popular not because it always brings people closer, but because it avoids the stages of discomfort that come in forming lasting bonds. Sarcasm by nature involves speech loaded with double meanings, which makes clear communication difficult. Because sarcasm usually involves words that should be easy enough to understand and a tone that contradicts the meaning of the words, sarcasm ultimately keeps others at bay, and leaves them wondering what you really meant. The Kids in the Hall skit (which I do find hilarious) explains it all.

But aren’t the pitfalls of this readily apparent? Isn’t it obvious that the great relationships (think marriages, best friends, etc.) are great because they involve clear communication, affection and mutual building up? Sarcasm is a weapon because it prevents all of these things from happening. Therefore, persistent sarcasm as a manner of speech will stunt the growth of teenagers, and it will make real intimacy between two people that much more difficult. I would go so far as to say that because this real intimacy has been lost, substitute intimacy in the way of sex has attempted (and failed) to fill the void. Is it any wonder that the generations that prize their sarcastic habits also seem to devalue sex and real affection?

Perhaps it has always been this way. Maybe teens have always related in such a way because it is safer. If you are on the offensive with sarcasm as your weapon, it is harder for others to hurt you. It just seems as though we prize a very strange thing when we tout the values of sarcasm. Sarcasm keeps others at a distance, leaves them wondering what you really meant and makes the truly worthwhile relationships that much more difficult to manage. I can only say that I will try to use sarcasm more sparingly, so I don’t end up like the Lonely Sarcastic Guy from The Kids in the Hall.

Le Corbusier Lives!

A rather significant event occurred in the world of architecture in the last year—at least from the point of view of this writer. In the city Firminy-Vert, a historical mining community in France, a church initially designed by Le Corbusier was completed. It is the fourth Le Corbusier structure to have been realized in this town, the result of the architect’s fruitful relationship with its post-war mayor. The Church of Saint Pierre was realized by one of Le Corbusier’s numerous acolytes, Jose Oubrerie, who collaborated with the master architect in the last years of his life during the early 1960’s. More than 40 years after his death, the church is finally complete, and in spite of Oubrerie’s own influences, the design of the church of Saint Pierre is remarkably consistent of Le Corbusier’s later works. Many details in the design were the result of stricter building codes, as well as Oubrerie’s own aesthetic predilections, but the rest of the structure combines formal elements that have become the trademarks of Le Corbusier’s most celebrated projects, such as his monastery at La Tourette, his Assembly building in Chandigar, India, as well as from his Chapel at Ronchamp du Haut.

It is not unusual for an architect to die before the completions of designs for a few years afterward. It is rare to build based on plans from several decades before, often because it requires another architect to interpret the design intentions of the original designer, divining on what he was thinking. The best way at ascertaining this kind of intangible information was to rely on an architect’s protégé. Frank Lloyd Wright, who surrounded himself by many sycophantic apprentices who lived and worked in his large private compounds in Wisconsin and in Arizona, produced dozens upon dozens of architects who mastered and internalized his style so as to be indistinguishable from Wright’s own work. Such disciples probably helped in the completion of the one project that I’ve seen which was built many decades after Wright’s death: the Monona Terrace in Madison. Although most of the details and interior spaces are contemporary, the overall lines of the structure are unmistakably Wright’s.

Le Corbusier ran his Paris studio like a monastery workshop, with young ambitious architecture students from around the world coming to work on his projects for little or no pay. They eventually left and returned to their home countries and disseminate the ideas and practices of their master. Le Corbusier’s former apprentices would thus synthesize his ideas and idiosyncratic forms with cultural influences of their native countries, creating a more localized Modernist vocabulary. Examples of this are found in Oscar Niemeyer’s work in Brazil and Balakrishna Doshi in India. Because of this desire for synthesis, it is not easy to confuse an actual Le Corbusier design with one of his acolytes’. Contrary to most people’s general view of Le Corbusier as the standard bearer of a monotonous machine aesthetic and standardization, his architecture was progressed quickly toward radically different phases. As he matured as a designer, his light and purist structures gave way to heavier, rougher, more organic buildings. His works for sacred functions expanded his expressionistic style and use of symbols that derived from his painting. The more sculptural his designs became, the more mysterious imagery, recurring formal themes and various textures would emerge. Unlike the relative consistency of his earlier villas, which followed his ‘five points’ faithfully and would not elaborate them any further than necessary, Le Corbusier’s latter works juxtapose symbols, creating tense dialogues between them. They also incorporate curves , shapes , and numerological codes that reveal deeper meanings less related to the building’s function than to the wandering mind and soul of the atheist architect.

The Church of Saint Pierre reminds those who relegate Le Corbusier as simply the inventor of the cubist architecture on stilts that there was much more going on in his mind as his career evolved. It serves as a summary of where the master was near the end of his life, and is a testament to his unceasing inventiveness. When put in the context of the architecture produced today, the church stands out in though its lyrical and sculptural complexity. Its deliberate artistic qualities distinguish it from countless other contemporary buildings, which derive their meaning from their function and from the obscurity of their fancy exterior skins. The effect of the latter is for one to say that the building’s effect registers a ‘je ne sais quoi’ response. Le Corbusiers’s late works leave so many vague formal cues and symbols that one naturally responds with “where do I begin to try to understand this?” In my experience the layers of embedded meaning are many yet accessible to all who make the effort.

Le Corbusier sought to enrich formal language of Modernism, and Jose Oubrerie should be thanked for providing us another example of the Swiss architect's achievement towards that end.

Hattip: Archinect

Coddling Jesus: He Was a Carpenter, You Know

After returning from a church mission trip to urban Milwaukee, I have a few new thoughts concerning assumptions about helping the poor. This was the first mission trip I had ever been on, and overall, I thought the experience was a good one. Working in soup kitchens, spending time with the mentally/physically disabled, and playing with children who get very little attention from home were rewarding experiences for all involved. It was good that the youth at my church got to see a different way of life, and to experience the reality that poverty, violence, and homelessness do exist. What I walk away with as much as anything else, however, is the realization of how generous Americans are. We have so many charities here, no one should ever die of starvation. In fact, I am convinced that we could probably make do without one more food pantry, soup kitchen, or government program. Seeing so many charities in action leads me to think that, if anything, we need to be personally involved with those whose life experiences have broken them as much as handing them a hot meal from time to time.

One of the popular sayings of those who favor liberation theologies (theologies that focus primarily on reversing the plight of the poor, often adopting Marxist ideas and politics) is that when you spend time with the poor, you begin to see Jesus in the their face. They make the point that Jesus had a “preferential option” for the poor, and therefore the whole mission of the church should be to care for the poor. I do not dispute that Jesus did have such a preferential option, but it was not limited to the financially poor only, but also the spiritually, mentally, or physically poor. And yes, as hard as it is, it is crucial to see Jesus in all people, as a way of protecting the sanctity of human life and seeing the value in those who are in very different situations. The problem for me is what we do with these people after we see Jesus in them, and even after we recognize that Jesus has a preference for them?

When I think about the life of Jesus, I do not see his ministry only, which was only the last three years of his life. I see a man who labored for probably close to 18 years in back-breaking work. The Greek word for Jesus occupation, “teknia” suggests that he worked with heavy materials, certainly wood, but also possibly stone or even metal. Jesus, unlike so many “holy men” of ages past, never looked for a handout, or found a way to get out of working. And from those precious 18 years that he labored we get the sanctification of work, of labor. We get holiness in the workplace not from cube-to-cube evangelism, but from the fact that Jesus himself, God made flesh, toiled with humanity.

Now, from here I will not go on to say that the poor are poor because they are lazy, although some of them certainly prefer begging to working. My point is that if we are going to say that we see the face of Jesus in everyone, and especially the poor, then why do we often coddle the poor? Why do we assume that the only way they can succeed is by taking money from rich people and giving it to them? Is that how we would treat Jesus, with pity, and not mercy, with a handout, but not love? I’ve said it before, and it’s worth saying again, when Bill Clinton suggested that every church should help to take one person off of welfare and help them transition into the workplace, this was a very appropriate understanding of how the church can and should help the poor. Unfortunately, the church (technically the National Council of Churches) said, “No thanks.” What a shame. So the poor have enough Jesus in them to be pitied, but we dare not have expectations for them? Can we not ask that addictions be quelled? Can we not ask that efforts be made by those able to work? Can we not ask that mistakes that helped lead to poverty not be repeated in the future, not out of high-handed elitism, but out of love?

The more involved I am in church work, the more I realize the real economic issues at work in America are either ignored or flatly misunderstood by the Church. I don’t expect such mission trips to be able to cover everything that is at play in what helps create, recreate, or sustain poverty. But let’s at least act like we mean it when we look for the face of Jesus in the poor. Let’s have a little respect for what they are capable of, instead of writing them off as welfare-dependent victims. Then we will really be looking for the face of Jesus in the poor. And not just the Jesus who died for our sins and fed the 5,000, but the Jesus who toiled with us so that our own labor might be redeemed.

Pride Mixed with Pain: The Recipe for Liberalism?

For conservatives, the last 20 years have been both an immense frustration as liberalism has become ingrained in media, academic and pop-culture circles, and a blessing as the new media has given voice to the conservative leanings of many Americans. The last 20 years have also defined conservative vs. liberal as much as the founding defined federalism vs. states-rights. And it seems we’ve now reached the point where the rhetoric has taken on a whole new level, where conservatives and liberals can hardly be in the same room and where liberalism is understood more as a “mental disorder” than a political ideology.

Michael Savage and Ann Coulter have both championed the idea that liberalism is a psychological condition instead of an set of opinions, apparently with much success in conservative circles given their book sales. And when one looks at some on the far left, I can at least understand the sentiment: such anti-natalistic tendencies as abortion-on-demand, fiscal policies that create poverty and unreasonable vitriol for President Bush all lead me at times to think that hard-core liberalism is based on a very different foundation than my conservatism. The emotion-driven responses to these sorts of issues often make the liberal making them appear to be irrational to the point of insanity. How can one, after all, support such silly fiscal policy after seeing how dreadfully it has failed for the last 40 years? How can it be that any group of people would fight so hard for the right to abortion? Does this not strike others as bizarre at best, and macabre at worst?

But I find the “mental disorder” schematic too easy, appealing to the masses in the worst sort of way, and simply ignorant of what is behind a lot of liberalism. In my experience with those who proudly champion liberal causes, I often find a combination of pride and pain. Now, if conservatives wanted to say that those who are prideful or in pain are, in fact, suffering from very real mental disorders, I suppose they could. But that wouldn’t be particularly reasonable, either. Most of the liberals I know speak from places of pain, not psychosis. This does not excuse their positions that fly in the face of logic (liberal fiscal policy), history (liberal foreign policy) or virtue (the liberal understanding of conception/human life). But it does more accurately diagnose the condition of liberalism as one in need of healing more than scorn. Telling those who hold near and dear positions to their heart that they have mental problems won’t help anybody.

I realize the arrogance of saying that a whole group of people live lives of pain, and make deluded judgments from there. But I find the combination of anger-driven political idealism, agnosticism (or atheism), and unfounded optimism for “progressive” attitudes to be most common among liberals. And I find that what drives it is the sorts of pains that many of us experience, and consequently want an easy answer to solve them. We see injustice, we see ideals not realized, we see meanness, and we all want a solution. But those with a sense of history and cautious optimism have the best chance of providing real solutions, not those who react to injustice with self-righteousness and blind faith in plans that have failed for years.

And that brings me to pride. A cursory examination of history should humble the examiner if nothing else. The past century was full of failed socialist experiments in every form and fashion, yet miraculously, socialism still has a lot of power in the world instead of fading. It is sheer pride in humanity that would allow anyone to hang on to Marxism for one more minute, because it completely ignores the brokenness of our human condition. It is also pride that allows anyone to think that tomorrow will bring something different, even though history often predicts what will happen next. Raising the minimum wage, for example, won’t work. To believe otherwise is an exercise in pride as much as ignorance. To not protect the sanctity of human life has serious consequences about how we care for all the vulnerable in our society. To believe otherwise is also an exercise in pride.

Would this be the wrong time to say I have a lot of liberal friends? This is not a diatribe against them. If anything, I aim to defend them against the Coulters and Savages of the world, who would write them off as loons as soon as consider the origins of their ideas. And this is nothing new. Conservatives are generally polled to be happier, more hopeful and more joyful than those who call themselves liberal. Maybe instead of trying to get liberals to be conservative, we would have more success if we could just get them to be happier.

Zidane: The Face-Saving Ethic Strikes Back

Zidane Head Butt


The last few weeks were surprisingly momentous for me and millions of my French compatriots. The success of ‘Les Bleus’, the national soccer team of France, was not expected at the beginning of the World Cup over a month ago. Consisting of a slew of relatively old players and a coach who consults his astrologer regularly, this year’s team achieved results that few would have believed possible after its lackluster performance in the preliminary group matches. I am by no means much of a soccer buff, as I only pay attention to the sport every four years for the World Cup, usually out of some inexplicable duty to one of my two native countries (the other being the US, of course). And still I was overjoyed by the championship victory of ‘Les Bleus’ in 1998 over the Brazilian favorites. Watching this year’s repeat of that match in the quarterfinals, I was convinced that France had finally rediscovered within them the spark that had spurred them to winning eight years ago.

Naturally I and many Frenchmen were disappointed by France’s loss in the final to Italy. So close, and yet so unjustly determined by penalty kicks. Since I was eating lunch with my family while watching the game from the corner of my eye, I had not noticed what the French captain Zinedine Zidane had done to merit his red flag. I only saw him talking to the referee after the red card had been issued and then strutting off the field looking quite dejected. Only after the match was I able to see the video footage online further clarifying his head-butting of an Italian player. Zidane’s display of aggression made all of us wonder what the reasons were for this kind of behavior, but it had already become the consensus among most in the French press that the act was reprehensible regardless of what provoked it, and that it had probably turned the tide against the French in the crucial final minutes of the championship match.

As the story on what was said between the two players unfolded, it was clear that offensive language and taunts were common in soccer. Zidane’s outburst was still surprising (not having paid attention to instances of his violent behavior throughout his carreer—remember I’m not much of a soccer fan) and to anyone who thought that the shear gravity of being part of the World Cup finals match would be enough to prevent any player to willfully eject himself from the game, few could imagine any kind of plausible explanation. It was clear that for all of Zidane’s impressive accomplishments in soccer, certain other issues were more important that could only be resolved violently.

As the past week progressed, the Zidane and his Italian adversary Materazzi offered sparse explanations of why events turned out the way they did. In an interview of French television, Zidane revealed that Materazzi had said some nasty things about his mother and sister and to not fight back against such insults would only condone these harsh insults. Zidane’s logic seems puzzling to me and others at first, since it assumed that a civilized response to such verbal provocations would be to ignore it and focusing on the more important task of finishing by winning the match. Materazzi’s behavior was likely an intended effort to rid the star player from his leadership role on the French team by exploiting Zidane’s tendency to overreact. Such tactics are quite underhanded on the part of some Italian players, but a truly great player would easily evade any opponent’s provocations.

And still, Zidane’s head-butt reminded me how the ethics of saving face can easily undermine larger goals of a community. Defending the honor of his family is more important than what over sixty million Frenchmen would otherwise like, such as keeping cool and focused, winning high-stakes matches. Such thinking is indicative of a pre-modern ethic and common throughout most Eastern cultures (Zidane is of Algerian birth) from honor killings of women to pressures in Asian families for their offspring to excel in selected professions. Face-saving has been largely supplanted in the West, probably the result of the emerging influence of individualism and humanism beginning in the Renaissance. Ideals would no longer worth being defended if there was no rational basis that could enhance individuals. Behavior would now be directed for productive ends, with individuals weighing on how to get the most out one’s own efforts as wells as from the efforts of others. Participating collectively in a task would no longer be a means toward maintaining long-standing social ties nor as fulfilling an obligation based on family honor and reputation; rather, the new Western model advocated collective action as the most practical means of accomplishing tangible goals.

Conflicts under this more modern and mechanistic mentality must be borne out of practical desires. Instances where two individuals are practically better off resolving a conflict than in working together are rare, because there is usually little rational basis for them. Yet a person acting in the name of preserving his family’s honor does not evaluate success in pragmatic or even utilitarian terms. Success relies on whether face-saving virtues have been upheld and familial shame averted.

Zidane accomplished the latter objectives, but his violent act left few French soccer fans to wonder how he was so willing to disregard the hopes and aspirations of millions just to settle a non-productive resolution.

Rafts and Rabbit Cages: What the Brightest Architectural Minds Have in Store for New Orleans

Like all members of the AIA (the American Institute of Architects), I receive my monthly complementary issue of Architectural Record, the official professional magazine of the organization. Along with the numerous glossy pictures of recently completed projects typical of architectural journals, the magazine focuses on the current events affecting the public image of the profession. Thus, constant concerns about climate change among many in the profession leads to copious articles about environmentally sensitive technologies and buildings, not to mention editorials excoriating architects for their failure to be ecologically minded enough. Naturally 9/11 and the rebuilding of the World Trade Center received lots of column-inches, with large numbers of elite architects handing down their own verdict on the submitted designs and related changes. Soon after hurricane Katrina flew over New Orleans and the Gulf Coast wreaking havoc along its path, contributors to the magazine were quick to lend their expert insights on what is to be done next.

As a profession innately desirous of the building for the future, the mood among the editors of the magazine was optimistic, since the storm had left a large scale opportunity to reinvent a major American city. Mindful of New Orleans’ chronic social and economic troubles during the last several decades, the columnists promoted progressive solutions that gave cleverly concealed nods to the local context and traditions while proposing abstract building volumes with high-tech and environmentally sensitive systems. Somehow the idea that much of the existing urban fabric of New Orleans could serve to inspire new proposals didn’t seem to get much attention in the magazine, except for a few scathing editorials against more historicist schemes of the New Urbanists, who sought to extend the local vernaculars to proposed areas for rebuilding. Reed Kroloff, the Tulane University architecture dean and the city’s eminent champion for the Modernist movement, helped organize an architecture exhibit in the Netherlands that featured schemes from avant-garde designers around the world. Each of these schemes is an attempt to remake the New Orleans, or at least to add and enliven the city’s sense of identity. None of the schemes actually show any reverence to the older architectural gems that characterize New Orleans. None of them seem to have ever consulted with New Orleanians. The exhibit wasn’t about actually building something as it was to stimulate the public’s imagination on what New Orleans could be.

And even then, some of the schemes are unintentionally patronizing. Several of the schemes made its most monumental function that of being a shelter in case of massive flooding. The Dutch firm MVRDV suggested the idea of a big hill in the middle of the city which would be tall enough so that people could seek refuge on it in emergencies. I could only imagine how inhabitant of New Orleans would enjoy seeing a big mound reminding them of the utter futility of even living in it, since the real essence of the city itself is about seeking shelter from the storm. So much for letting the good times roll if all you're really supposed to worry about is how to survive the next big one. Another much-discussed scheme by the dutch firm U.N. Studio features a green glass zigurrat that contains a media library and administrative offices for the city. Other than the form adding a bit of bold visual interest, the program itself is in my opinion quite irrelevant to the needs of New Orleans. Think about it: a massive hurricane wipes out a major American city and the best thing one can build to revive the morale of the city is to build a massive media library?

The architects wished to give New Orleans a new 'urban icon', as if of all things that the city needs a new symbol for progress is of the highest order. I seem to remember the largest indoor stadium in the world, the Superdome, filling that role quite nicely. Somehow, giving New Orleans a cool new ziggurat was going to have the same positive effect as Frank Gehry's masterpiece in Bilbao, Spain. The problem with that kind of thinking is that one shouldn't compare the uninviting Basque port that few wanted to visit to one of the U.S.'s top tourist destinations. Besides visitors come to the Big Easy not only for its quirky architecture as for its cultural ambiance, its food, its festivals, and as a welcome setting for debauchery and fun. A self-absorbed media library or hill with a school and buch of emergency shelters don't mesh with New Orleans' existing urban identity.

In the latest issue of Architectural Record, the magazine sponsored a design competition (co-hosted by Mr. Kroloff, again) for new housing prototypes for New Orleans. The best submissions were published, each accompanied by comments from the select members of the jury, each nationally respected architects. Browsing at the proposals made me shake my head at the arrogant naiveté conveyed by these schemes. Although the drawings, renderings, and forms were attractive, the absolute disregard for the on-the-ground reality of New Orleans was obvious. Maybe it was beyond the scope of the competition, but little was mentioned on what daily life is actually like, what people in the afflicted communities actually aspire to, what actually matters as important to New Orleanians. And although each of the schemes tried to resolve a problem by clever design, I really hope that the designers have the humility in knowing that the destructive social pathologies that afflict New Orleans are far more complex in nature than the simple elegance of their logical-looking drawings.

The submissions reminded me of a contant tendency that has helped generate public disgust against much of modern architecture. Most of the high-density housing schemes presented show little contextual response to the uniqueness that is New Orleans. They could be built in any other city around the globe, often exhibiting a look more in keeping with Dutch housing prototypes, which to me can look a stack of elegant rabbit cages. There is also a clear revisiting of LeCorbusier's Unite d'Habitation in Marseilles, from the design of the apartment units to the way they are related to the high-rise structure. And similar to Le Corbusier's tendency to design high-density dwellings that were so generous so as to be more fitting for wealthy bachelors than the 'masses', the schemes in the magazine propose units more generous and better built than the priciest uptown condominiums. Certainly the cost for housing a significant portion of the population that lost their dwellings in the ninth ward would be exhorbitant if built to the luxurious standards of the proposed schemes.

Among the entries for a single-family housing prototype, there was at least a bit of respect for the traditional housing typology of the shotgun home. And yet some of the designs harken back to the tendency to design with a patronizing air of pity. One scheme demonstrates how modular housing units no different from shipping containers on stilts could prove to be a quick solution to rapid and economic reconstruction. The most absurd scheme in my eyes was an entry by Harvard students, no less. It describes how many of the city's inhabitants would live inside a two-story cube to dwell in, and designed to float on water in case of massive flooding. The area where these units would be would in times of high water act as a large village of glorified life rafts. When the waters recede, the units would sit back on the ground, changed in location from before the storm, thus reconfiguring the order of the neighborhood. You know, I've always thought of humans being naturally terrestrial creatures, and I can't think of one place where people happily live on the sea in private life rafts. There are very good reasons why human settlement has gravitated toward drier land instead of embracing naturally flood-prone areas.

It is obvious that none of the projects submitted ever had the intent of being built. Competitions and exhibitions of theoretical work serve not only to stimulate new debate on the future of a place but also to enhance the prestige of those who submit the schemes (since preparing an entry takes lots of unpaid man-hours and deferred earnings doing 'real' projects). And although I'm all for promoting a lively philosophical discussion and fruitful brainstorming, it is not clear why the participants of these exhibitions and competitions believed it was necessary to complete re-envision the city of New Orleans. The Crescent City is blessed to have inherited the most picturesque urban landscapes anywhere, its architectural identity solid and beloved by everyone who lives there. In terms of pedestrian scale, the distribution of density, and its organic relationship with the landscape, New Orleans has much to recommend itself as an example of good urban design. Looking back, Katrina was more of a technical problem for the city, having little to do with the quality of its planning and urban monuments. Faultily constructed levees, poor evacuation planning and mobilization, and ill-conceived strategies for drainage of the Mississippi delta all contributed to tragedy following the hurricane. Fancy media libraries, man-made hills, or floating cubes in the water don't offer much in the way of helpful solutions to the technical dilemmas that face New Orleans. Such typically inadequate responses from these elite designers lead me sometimes to doubt the utility of even enlisting their ideas in the first place.

Superman and the American Way: the Postmodernization of Superheroes

While preparing for a sermon I would give on July 4th weekend, it never occurred to me that I should mention anything about the secular holiday that would be only two days away from the time I gave my sermon. When I got to church and noticed a rather large banner saying “In God we Trust” with stars and strips on it, I knew it would be a rather glaring omission. After all, as the congregation looked towards the pulpit as I preached, it would be impossible for them to miss this patriotic banner out of the corner of their eye. So I did my best to ad lib a few lines about how Jesus frees us in healing us, etc., which is even greater than the freedoms we celebrate on the Fourth of July every year. Hopefully, the assembly thought that was good enough.

Now, I would love to give a whole sermon on how the political freedoms Americans celebrate have theological underpinnings. After all, the founders could not have insisted on concepts concerning the freedom of man without first understanding that God created man to be free. (Of course, after the Fall, man became in bondage to sin, only to be made free again through Christ on the cross.) So if God intended man to be free and not enslaved, then naturally the systems that govern man should protect man from encroachments on such freedom, all the while condemning as well as possible the sinful aspect of man’s nature. So from this theological understanding of man as both free and enslaved, forgiven and sinful, comes our rare and wonderful constitutional republic that both protects man’s inherent freedom (don’t forget the Bill of Rights all limit government power) as well as protect man from his own sinful nature.

There is such a thing as the American way, and this is it, written into our Constitution. This is nothing to be ashamed of, but instead it rightly should be celebrated, not with a sense of naked nationalism, but with the understanding that what makes this nation’s founding so unique is not its political brilliance as much as the political carrying out of theological truths about the nature of man.

So why, then, has Superman stopped fighting for the “American way?” Having watched Superman IV in the past 12 months, I was struck by two things: how much worse it was than what I remember as a 12-year-old, and how clearly Reeve’s Superman stood for defending America. (The anti-nuclear proliferation idealism in that movie is rather silly, however.) The same was true after I watched Rocky IV; James Brown’ rendition of “Living in America” simply would not be filmed in today’s Hollywood studios. Having never read the Superman comic book, I am only learning now how prominent that theme is throughout the series, that Superman’s whole identity is rooted around preserving the noble values that America stands for. Yet, in “Superman Returns”, the phrase was purposely ignored by the writers and hinted at bitterly and cynically when the newspaper’s editor says, “Whatever happened to ‘truth, justice, and all that stuff?” or something along those lines. It seems even Superman has turned postmodern, skeptical of standing for the most basic values Americans cherish. I know the trend for comic book movies has been to turn dark (a change I welcome), ushered in by Tim Burton’s first Batman. But what good are comic book heroes if they do not fight for the values America excels at defending, in ideal if nothing else?

When I said I did not want to see the movie because of this blatant swipe at America, my fiancée reminded me that I loved the new Batman movie, which also took a turn towards the dark cynicism of postmodernism. But in thinking about it, Batman and Superman represent very different things. (I never thought I would make the following analysis.) Batman, a self-made hero of sorts, is more about conquering the inner demons that haunt him, and using the pain inside of him to help those in need. Superman is not even human, and seems to have chosen America to defend because of the goodness he experiences in the heartland, my fiancee’s home state of Kansas.

For those of you who aren’t like Comic Book guy on The Simpsons, you’re a lot like me. I could care less about owning Spiderman #1 (except for the monetary value), and I couldn’t tell you how many X-Men there are. But I do know that a $250 million movie assumes a place in speaking for and to the culture. Superman has officially become an America doubter like so many in Hollywood who doubt the greatness of America, who don’t trust its history or values, and who do not see the need for there to be an American defender any longer. Yes, no doubt the writers of the movie feel the world needs Superman to defend them against America more than America needs Superman to defend itself against the world.

Confession: The Value in Moral Self-Expression

Ahhhh, the good ol’ practice of admitting we’re wrong. You know, as hard as it is, it actually feels kind of good once we do it. It’s not instinctive, and it usually takes a long time to come around to it. I’ve heard it said that criminals often begin to leave clues behind because secretly they want (need) to get caught. When they finally are caught, I don’t doubt that relief is the prevailing emotion. But confessing not only goes against our survival instincts and the more base aspect of our nature, but it also goes against the culture. Many social critics regard the “no fault” divorce as one of the greatest tragedies in wording, as it has allowed an entire “no fault” culture to emerge. All that complaining we heard from our grandparents about how no one is responsible anymore, or how all these silly lawsuits are making life more expensive from us stem from the frustration of watching the concept of “no fault” become en vogue.

In Protestant circles, I wonder if a renewed discussion on the merits of individual confession and forgiveness would make a dent in the “no fault” delusion. Given that the Roman Catholic Church continues to consider confession (Penance) a sacrament and priests offer stories of waiting 15 years for one person to come, perhaps it wouldn’t make a difference. But when Luther considered Confession and Forgiveness to be a mere extension of baptism and thus not a sacrament on its own, I wonder if he could have foreseen the way the Church would essentially abandon confession and eventually regard baptism in such high esteem that it almost becomes a superstitious event of universal forgiveness? If Protestants had never officially declared Confession to no longer be a sacrament, how different would our world be?

Again, Catholics officially retained the practice of Penance, but did Protestants influence them to think they don’t need it, either? It’s impossible to say. But one thing I’m pretty sure of is that it is very easy to believe the lie that we don’t sin, we can save ourselves, and confessing silently in our mind/heart is the same as confessing to our brother. It’s not. When we allow ourselves to confess to another person, we experience the true relief of admitting guilt as well as the security of community. With another person, and not just some vague conceptual God, we experience the sensation of admitting something we would prefer to be hidden, and still having that person accept us. It is a rare experience, possible only with a spouse or truly great friend outside of clergy, and one that goes against our tendencies to hide the things about ourselves we think will be the most damaging to our precious reputations.

That being said, I have only been to Confession once and it was a rather intimidating experience. The pastor was very good at it, and helped me find the balance of admitting appropriate guilt without beating myself up. I can understand why even the most practiced Christian (much less non-Christian) finds the confessional booth or kneeler anathema.

But not only is it largely ignored by individuals, the liturgy of my own Church is going against the concept of confession altogether. Having “successfully” replaced the practice of individual confession with a “Brief Order of Confession and Forgiveness”, our new service books takes it a step further, where we provide an option instead of the “Brief Order”: “Thanksgiving for Baptism.” I understand the huge and profound importance of baptism, and I don’t want to neglect it in any form or fashion. And I do agree that forgiveness is an extension of baptism, etc. But when we get away from the confession of our nature, and instead turn worship into a gigantic celebration, what are we saying about God? Does God desire, or even need us to be honest about the way we fall short, or does he just want us to be happy that we’re baptized? Isn’t the possibility that we can take advantage of the gift of baptism with such a glorification of it worse than the “medieval” act of confession?

Finally, what has happened and what will happen as we get away from our own sin? I have heard that individual confession is gaining, very slowly but surely, in “popularity” again. Priests and pastors are encouraging it, and there are a few more takers than in years past. Good; the process of abandoning the lies we can easily slip into is the beginning of spiritual health. And this isn’t to say we go into the confessional booth to beat ourselves up, or to get beat up. Quite the contrary: we hear about the grace of God in an entirely new way, spoken to us as an individual by a priest or pastor who is acting in the stead of God. Given that many protestants and even some Catholics have never even experienced this once, I lament from time to time that Luther didn’t hang onto Penance as a third sacrament.

Looking Back at Postmodernism

Thinking back on my recent trip to Houston, it was obvious to me that the city contained relatively little historic architecture (pre-World War historic styles of classical and gothic derivation). Instead, the city serves as a broad catalogue for post-War styles: there are fine examples of minimalist mid-century modern such as the Houston Museum of Art by Mies Van der Rohe, the high-tech pavillion of Renzo Piano’s Menil Collection, as well as some refined examples of 60’s Brutalism.

My most recent impressions of Houston revealed a city characterized particularly by the Postmodern. This architectural movement rose in popularity during the 1970’s and became the ascendant architectural mode for much of the 1980’s, particularly in the United States. The style is often identified by the revival of historic formal elements, the superficial use of ornament, a pastel color palette, all composed in a way to acknowledge the surrounding context. Knowing fully well that the term 'postmodern' can be used as a catch-all to the many concurrent and contradictory architectural trends since the Sixties, I am referring specifically to a mode design that showcases consistent design elements and characteristics just described.

As a broader phenomenon, Postmodernism is often treated as a blanket term describing all aspects of our contemporary culture from a point of view that evolved from the social turbulence of the 1960’s. It was a reaction to the prevailing Modernist worldview, which understood the world in terms of elegant systems, machine-precision, scientific logic, the universality of man and thus the possibility at an objective and undeniable truth. Progress moved along a narrow path that favored abstraction, uncovering the layers to reveal an ideal world governed by reason and constant perfectibility. Modernism got its start during the renaissance in Humanism, and given a more sober and secular character from the influences of the French enlightenment, the scientific revolutions of the nineteenth century (including the contributions of Charles Darwin), Marxist materialism and finally the nihilist works Friedrich Nietzsche. These ideas achieved an architectural synthesis near the turn of the twentieth century with the first examples of structures composed of primary forms, straight-forward modern structural systems (reinforced concrete, steel), and facades abstracted to such a degree so as to abandon traditional ornament completely. Abstraction contributed to a building’s ‘honesty’, by exposing the reality of its structure, opening the walls to the outside with large expansive windows. Form was the product of function and nothing more. Building was an important part of moving civilization towards an ideal with large expanses of cities being torn-down to make way for ‘urban renewal’.

This worldview began to collapse in the face of growing social disenchantment in reaction to Modernism's seemingly repressive universalism. In philosophy, a deconstruction of general assumptions about what is believed to be true was taking shape, resulting not only questioning the validity of scientific knowledge, but also in the actual structure of language itself. In architecture, minimalist glass and concrete cubes were subverted by a restoration of historic styles and traditional idioms. But as Postmodern philosophy had tried to deconstruct language and describe the codified meanings of signs and symbols (semiotics), the revival of old and familiar architectural forms no longer necessarily connected them to its original meanings or uses. ‘Classical’ forms such as the column, the keystone, the gable, the arch and profiles of moldings provided designers with countless opportunities to compose facades that deliberately evoked irony by exaggerating proportions and traditional architectural relationships between these elements. Modernist 'honesty' was replaced by Postmodern superficiality at first, which revealed multiple layers of meaning ressed in humor. Modernist architecture was devoid of such ‘complexity and contradiction’ since it was designed under a different, more sober, mindset that tended towards unity by abstraction.

The architect Robert Venturi with his wife Denise Scott Brown are largely credited as having provided the first major theoretical underpinnings for the postmodern movement. Their 1966 book, Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture, was metaphorically the postmodern rebuttal to Modernism’s most influential manifesto, Le Corbusier’s Towards a New Architecture, published nearly forty years before.. The most memorable quip from the Venturis’ essay is that, far from Mies Van der Rohe’s axiom that ‘less is more’, the reality for most people is that ‘less is a bore.’ The authors cited countless architectural masterpieces throughout history that embodied formal complexity and were composed in such a way so as to suggest contradictory relationships between the elements. Mannerism and Baroque architecture are particular useful in describing his idea, in that designers were permitted tremendous flexibility to reinterpret traditional architectural motifs, subverting the tectonic and proportional relationships between column, arch and entablature. The period between the Renaissance’s (16th century) obsession for copying the ancients and the Neoclassical period’s (1750’s-1800) embrace of strict empiricism was one rich in architectural innovation, sensuous and passionate expression, and dramatic tension (here’s an interactive example).

Subsequent Postmodern architects gladly delved into creating a new Mannerist style, assembling together familiar classical elements in an eclectic purposefully inelegant way. Scale was often distorted, proportions exaggerated, and fine detailing neglected in favor enhancing a building’s symbolic effect from far away. Venturi’s house for his mother, Michael Graves' Portland office building, Philip Johnson’s ‘Chippendale’ building, Robert Stern’s projects for Disney and Charles Moore’s Piazza d’Italia in New Orleans are the most widely studied examples of the Postmodern practice of play and ambiguous symbolism.

Because of most of the public is rather fond traditional architectural modes, Postmodernism overtook its Modern predecessor as the preferred choice in most construction projects. Any recent building that evokes a traditional style or displays abstracted classical ornamental elements could be classified as Postmodern. If the look of the building appears to try to represent something else, whether a long-lost style, a familiar building typology, or even a symbol embodying meaning, it is Postmodern.

Older major American cities are blessed with beautiful beaux arts structures commonly built during the latter half of the nineteenth and first decades of the twentieth centuries. Houston, a city heavily bankrolled by the fortunes of the petroleum industry, seems to have massively built its great civic and commercial monuments during the Seventies when oil prices were high. As a result, Houston has become home to a vast number of ‘authentic’ Postmodern (an oxymoron, I know) style buildings, a treasure trove of architectural idiosyncrasies popular during the seventies and eighties, from the flamboyant use of pastel colors to the pastiche stucco facades with their seemingly cartoonish scale an abstraction.

The Houston skyline is dotted with Philip Johnson’s postmodern experiments, the profiles of buildings appropriating familiar typologies and forms of the past into a new context of corporate office buildings. His design for the architecture school at the University of Houston is nothing but literal reproduction of an un-built scheme by the eighteenth century French architect Claude Nicolas Ledoux. The opera house, especially its interior, is a vivid demonstration of the ability of ornament to emphasize festive pageantry, but is also a testament to postmodernism’s ephemeral nature. John Outram’s Duncan Hall at Rice University can be an overwhelming visual experience. Its bold color, elaborate ornamentation, and its Egyptian hypostyle hall stimulate the visitor to the extreme, while equally demonstrating the potential to activate a space by recycling past motifs. Venturi Scott Brown's design for Houston's Children's Museum is another excellent example of Postmodern flamboyance. The Federal Branch Bank of Houston by Robert Stern at first appears as an abstracted Greek temple from far away, but the highly contrasting colors, the broken façade planes, and the gigantic painted ‘brick’ mortar joints reveal a rather postmodern treatment. The front façade of the building resembles more a child’s drawing of house than a temple, and the gaps between the punched planes undermine the bank’s traditional image as being a strong fortress that protects wealth.

Rediscovering the examples above with other postmodern structures revealed to me how this style had a character and visual consistency that made it so identifiable. It is truly the product of its times, defining the built environment distinctively similar to fashions that defined social life during the 1970’s and 1980’s. Unlike its Modernist predecessor, postmodern architecture was less a radical rethinking of what built space could be. It gave little attention to the connection between outside and inside, the fluidity of open space, nor did it bring attention to new materials and technologies. Postmodernism in architecture was rather a restoration of what went on before the Modernist violent break of the past beginning after the First World War. Victorian, Arts & Crafts and Art Nouveau (as well as Art Deco of the 1920’s & 30’s) were attempts at creating new surface styles to dress many new building types that emerged near the turn of the twentieth century. Postmodernism is mostly about the manipulation of surface similar to those earlier, more beloved styles. The difference is that Postmodernism was less about simple embellishment and systematic formal vocabulary than it was about using signifiers to make a statement. Also the level of craftsmanship and attention to detail is mostly lacking compared to the older styles.

Although ironic humor is often used to describe postmodernism’s architectural expression, the underlying meanings of these designs is quite profound. It was an architecture that tried to make a point, ‘speaking’ through signs, quotations from the past and subversive proportions. Modernist glass boxes aimed to say as little as possible, their meanings pared down to nothing more than simple fact of merely existing. Nowadays, postmodernism no longer stimulates the interests of the current architectural vanguard. Modernism experienced a revival during the 1990’s, while the digital revolution has ushered the rise of biomorphism or ‘blobitechture’ while also breathing life into deconstruction. Postmodernism is now looked on as a clumsy effort to respond the conceptual dead end of late Modernism, suffering from its lack of timelessness and its indifference to actually being beautiful. To young designers, seeing a postmodern masterpiece from the seventies and eighties often causes them to cringe.

Update: Sam Jacob over at "Strange Harvest" explains why he admires the contributions of Postmodern pioneers Venturi Scott Brown in this insightful post. Hattip: Progressive Reactionary

Church Hypocrites: Hate the Rich, Want Their Money

First, a defense of hypocrites. Hypocrites, by nature, profess to believe in something. Usually, hypocrites profess to believe in things of value, noble principles or virtues, though I suppose it’s possible for a hypocrite to believe in things that have little moral value. Either way, hypocrites, whether they mean it or not, stand up for a belief. It is in that risk taking that the character of the hypocrite is revealed to be flawed, thus negating the very values the person upholds. So by that measure, I consider every Christian to be perfect examples of hypocrisy, and that’s not entirely a bad thing. Unlike their atheist or agnostic brethren, at least they confess to believe in something beyond themselves. And in that confession, they fall short, and are easily labeled as hypocrites.

So I am a proud hypocrite, but I do not hold that all hypocrisies are created equal. Blatant hypocrisy based on conceit or pride clearly are worse than the hypocrisies that are inevitable when one does their best to live out a moral life and falls short. So I will have the audacity to propose the kind of hypocrisy that irritates me the most. I was listening to a speech tonight by a pastor who is nothing short of courageous, who gave a very engaging speech, but also repeated a lot of very tired clichés that have been disproved enough times to be discredited. Yet here they were again, presented as gospel truth to impressionable teenagers who are too young to understand economics well enough to debate.

The sentiment was great, the intentions are well-meaning, but how long do we have to hang on to the following untruths: The minimum wage needs to be increased, the rich are greedy, and huge companies like Wal-Mart are helping to keep the poor impoverished? There was no discussion of reliance on social programs, or the hint that they might make poverty worse. There was no discussion about the importance of the father in the home. At least he, unlike the State, understood that real change could come to the truly down-and-out if they could make better life decisions. He, for example, worked closely with many to help them become free of addictions.

One story in particular jumped out at me. The pastor, who works in inner-city Milwaukee, asked a banking CEO who makes $4.6 million/year when “enough was enough?” That’s a fair question to ask. Eventually, it seemed to inspire this CEO to donate over a million dollars to scholarships for poor African-Americans so that they might achieve. Yet, the same pastor could not see the irony when he lamented the woes of capitalism and recommended such socialist drivel as “Pedagogy of the Oppressed” or “Nickeled and Dimed.” What was it that allowed the banker to donate the $1 million? Was it socialism? Communism? No, it was the capitalist system, and the prosperity that came as a result that allowed him to give away a third of his salary for a year.

At one point, he asked, “Why does this country so hate the rich?” I wondered when the last time he watched the news was. Has he not yet heard that we are the most generous nation in the history of the world? Americans per capita are more charitable than anyone else, is that not correct? I guess because the minimum wage is only $5.15, America must hate the poor. But what about the data that proves that the minimum wage has never statistically helped the poor, or the simple common sense that if it did, the first minimum wage would have licked poverty? Inflation, you say? What do you think causes it? Increased in wages leads to increased consumer prices, and so the cycle goes.

I won’t preach to the choir (pardon the pun) anymore than necessary, I just have one request. For those who bemoan capitalism, please do me the favor of not benefiting from its fruits. If money from capitalism is as good as “blood money,” please be happy running a commune. I realize there is corruption in capitalism like any other economic system, but given its voluntary nature, I will defend it as a more moral system than the systems Paulo Freire or Barbara Ehrenreich espouse. Meanwhile, I’ll be looking the moral capitalists in the eye at my church and thanking them for their generous donations, which we will use as best we can to help those in need.

Crankin' out the Hits: Why Many Architects Won't Design Traditionally

On the question of what is good design, architects and non-architects rarely seem to agree. Particularly since the ascendancy of Modernism during the last century, architects have used a different set of values in deeming what a well-designed building should look like. Much of the public, particularly in the U.S., have expressed their dislike of modern design and often for very good reason: modern architecture struggled to express monumentality, function was not apparent to the users due to the style’s minimalism and lack of signifying ornament. Modern architecture seemed contemptuous of the local context, deliberately clashing with the surrounding built context instead of harmonizing with it.

In response, the trends in design have adapted to these criticisms, incorporating context to form a new synthesis commonly called critical regionalism. The rise of the Post-Modern style addressed the importance of traditional architectural motifs and the need for the building to clearly express what it is (albeit in its ironic and ambiguous way). And still much of the design highly regarded by the architectural profession still borrows heavily from the formal innovations of the earliest Modernist pioneers. This incessant tendency among the most highly regarded architects to design in the modern idiom fails to win many fans outside professional and academic circles or people with a general appreciation for modern art. One gets the impression that only if architects could return to using traditional styles and conform to classical rules of design and re-use time-tested building typologies, then all would be hunky-dory and architects wouldn’t come off as smug aesthetes.

Quite a few architects have taken that route with much success, but in my opinion the reason that the most ambitious designers dedicate themselves to the modern style has lots to do with the nature of architecture as a profession. For much of the history of Western civilization, a pleasing design was one that embodied the visual harmony brought forth by the skillful use of proportional systems, of following proper architectural vocabularies evolved from local tradition, and often applying symmetry where applicable. Building types were few and simple technologies derived from masonry construction were all that was available for large permanent structures. The profession of architecture as it is currently understood did not exist throughout most of our history, since the job of designing structures was left to the master mason along with the engineer. Vitruvius, who wrote the first major theoretical manual on architecture, was a Roman military officer and engineer, with much of his text devoted to the successful planning of encampments and fortresses. During the European Middle Ages, the Gothic cathedrals soared because of the knowledge of the master mason, who drew very schematically the plan of the church and tried to retain designs of each design in the form of shop secrets.

The notion that a building should be designed by an academically educated professional came about during the Italian renaissance. This new kind of specialist, the architect, would be steeped in the theoretical knowledge inherited from the Ancients (Vitruvius’s manual, for instance) as well as be broadly exposed to prevailing intellectual doctrines of humanism, science, mathematics and art. Rather than coming from the work site as a mason and being closely involved in the manufacture of every building component as was typical of construction projects before then, the architect would generate a plan and compositions for the facades of the structure through the abstract techniques of drafting on paper. He would naturally use the knowledge he had acquired from his theoretical education instead of methods and common practices learned from a mason’s many years of apprenticeship. It is not surprising at this time that architects were credited with authoship, as individuals like Alberti, Brunesleschi and Palladio becoming among the first to be identified with their designs.

With the establishment of the first schools of architecture during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the profession became more formalized and naturally more mired in design theory. Although architecture schools did not train designers on how to manage a practice, it did inculcate a sense that what distinguished architects from other construction trades was a unique poetic insight. Before Modernism took over the beaux-arts curriculum at the architecture schools, the debate was on the nature of the proper rules that should govern design, such as the tension between the respect for the traditional orders and the desire to innovate within them. The Bauhaus-inspired curriculum would throw out such concerns, concentrating more on the re-learning the most basic concepts of forms, visual relationships, color and technology.

Contemporary architects in the U.S. are mostly educated under a curriculum loosely based on Bauhaus principles. They have studied the history of architecture to some degree, often traveling to old European capitals to sketch its marvels. And yet the notion that to be a modern architect is to therefore be a creative and artistically professional comes as a given. Modernism’s lack of precise rules of composition allows anyone to believe that they are generating a scheme as unique as any other. Everyone gets to be a special designer, can create their distinct signature on a building. The only problem is that a miniscule number of such designers actually have the talent to pull off an original but transcendentally beautiful building. For many, the design process is a true joy, but achieving a moving design is extremely hard. It is doubly difficult when applying the Modernist style precisely because the rules are too few or too subtle. In my ideal world, those who are short of design talent (but are good at everything else) should incorporate a traditional style and diligently apply classical rules of proportion and composition. It is a foolproof means toward pleasingly attractive buildings, and would be a much better alternative to the numerous lazy modernist design experiments gone wrong.

When people are given the right to express themselves as individuals in any vocation, it usually will never be voluntarily revoked. Creating an original object, whether it is art, an artifact, or a building is often fulfilling precisely because it allows an individual to realize himself in the physical world. The architectural profession during the last century has made this experience accessible to those who aren’t quite artists nor are they pure engineers. Demanding that architects should give up on employing Modernist design in favor of using historicism is in reality a demand for architects to renounce their identity as a theoretically educated specialist of poetic license. It is a demand for architects to resume a role similar to master masons and mere practitioners of classical rules of composition.

The American Institute of Architects supposedly awards projects that demonstrate genuine design talent and technical mastery. It does not award the skillful application of historic styles. Such awards are a recognition by the architectural community of efforts in innovation and quality. Judging by the comments from this post over at 2 Blowhards, it is clear that quality and sophistication are defined quite differently between those within the architectural profession and those outside. For those outside the profession, it is fundamental to understand that the buildings awarded were very difficult to execute and the risks involved much higher than a more traditional solution. The result might look minimalist at times, but such designs require tremendous meditation on the part of the designer. Classicist design, because of its elaborate codification handed down from the ages, requires relatively little reflection. It is the meditative aspect of the profession that inspires the young to become architects, and serves as a major basis in judging excellent work.

Would you rather have architects crank out the old hits anyway? Most of them think they are more than that, to their own success or demise.