Later this month I will be heading to Associazone Canova in Italy to participate in the 14th Annual Architectural Encounter so I am thinking about the future of architecture.
My three years in Silicon Valley have demonstrated the revolutiuonary transformation of human interaction and the infrastructure of our environment: the landscapes, pathways, and buildings we inhabit. The App Age of Über and Airbnb and Google has reprogrammed our normal relationship to goods; services, and to space itself. Interviews are carried out in coffee shops, coffee shops are in libraries, homes are hotels, cars are taxis and even clothing may not have a single owner. Clients are no longer fixed but fluid, and the key design element for future resilience will be in fact fluidity: the space, the plot, the wall or the wearable that can adjust to the next radical disruption.
As a human society we are arguably moving away from the settled lifestyle we pioneered 11,000 years ago when we shifted from hunting and gathering to agriculture.
small agricultural plots in Dali Dong village, Guizhou
Are we moving back to a peripatetic lifestyle where we constantly move not only in space but also in technological platforms? The Industrial Age was a major shift away from agriculture, but until recently even that transformation, involving massive human migrations to cities, remained in the mode of a settled multigenerational life. The end of World War II saw the rise of the nuclear family, who were still supposed to settle in a single geographic location and work for an industrial concern for a lifetime.
Studebaker – the only car company that started with the Industrial Revolution (Palm Springs).
Now we are in the age of retooling as knowledge systems explode and individual lives are subject to constant reeducation and career moves. We adapt to changing realities and modalities. Resiliency has replaced sustainability as a leading concept not only in architecture but in political economy as well. We are in the obverse of High Modernism, which felt it could determine all future needs and design accordingly.
IBM Building, Chicago, by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. It was designed for room-sized computers and floor-sized heat exchangers. Now it is a hotel.
The design byword today is resiliency, a kind of adaptability, which interestingly, has been the dominant mode in historic preservation/heritage conservation for the last 50 years. Indeed, when the High Modernists were designing buildings for Forever Needs, preservationists in Soho and elsewhere were repurposing old buildings for new uses.
Even in Milwaukee
Jane Jacobs saw old buildings as incubators for new ideas and new businesses. Don Rypkema, the leading spokesperson for the economics of preservation, makes the same argument every day and has made it in over 40 countries worldwide. We know that adaptive re-use is the economic underpinning of older buildings, sites and structures. What does this mean for design?
“Long life loose fit” is one foundation for resiliency. Buildings become non-specific in their uses. Again, this has been a foundational idea for historic preservation for a half century, but the Über/Airbnb world requires a further step: multiple uses not simply in time, but in space.
Musee d’Orsay, in time and on time
I am reminded of an example I learned from the architect Yatin Pandya back in 2008. Yatin described the Manek Chowk, a major public square in Ahmedabad, a city on the tentative list for World Heritage status. In the morning the Manek Chowk is covered with hay as animals wander and feed throughout the square. By late morning the plaza is transformed into a shopping area as people buy pots and pans and choose from a vast array of locally grown vegetables. By noon it becomes a market for bullion and jewelry. Each evening the shops vanish, tables fill the square and dozens of nighttime food stalls service a human population in the same space where animals feasted the morning before.
Manek Chowk, 2008, mid-day
Market at Manek Chowk, Ahmedabad
I think our future buildings – and of course our past buildings, will become microcosms of the Manek Chowk. We are already seeing this in coffee shops that have recognized – and started to monetize – their role as offices for the legions of information and service workers who no longer have or choose to use a formal office.
Palo Alto, California. It was a movie theater. Then a bookstore. Now it’s a coffee shop/entrepreneurial platform.
The idea was incipient in preservation when I came on the scene over 30 years ago. I recall the buildings of Printers Row in Chicago, formerly industrial and now transformed into residential lofts, office lofts, shops and even religious structures. Every city in the world has a former warehouse and industrial area where the buildings have been saved and re-used as housing, galleries, offices, shops and more.
And the church (left) serves multiple congregations
This trend will continue to define our future and the shifts will become both more broad-based and more granular. We will share buildings as we share our apartments on Airbnb and our vehicles on Über and our bicycles with everyone else in New York or London or San Francisco or Washington.
Chicago I think
Adaptive re-use of buildings is morphing into adaptive use of all buildings (and sites and structures). While recent architectural theory has revolved around issues of sustainability and resilience, technology has been viewed as a new way to design, and a new set of elements to incorporate into designs.
Refracting light through colored glass is a hell of a technology.
The technological revolution actually implies a new approach to design that in many ways will finally realize the century-old modernist goal of uniting engineering and design. Modernism was a reaction to In the idea that 19th century architecture had become obsessed with the visual qualities of facades and lost its connection to engineering – modernists were to reunite those two elements, and our friend Mies van der Rohe was one of those proponents. Yet, as I explained in my book The Architecture of Barry Byrne, there is always the attempt to sweeten, or make beautiful, the resultant form.
Sweet! LeCorbusier – Mill Owners Building, Ahmedabad
I have been having many discussions about the future of the National Register of Historic Places, which will be 50 years old next year. One of the challenges, which I wrote about in connection to the need to make the National Register reflect the diversity of the American experience, is to get beyond the focus on facades, which still dominates our review of potential landmark buildings and districts. While this makes sense for those buildings nominated under Criterion C for architecture, it cannot be supported at the same level of formal scrutiny when you are dealing with sites significant for Criterion A (history) or Criterion B (famous people). That significance may be interior, and it is inherently related to use, not form.
The barn where legendary horse Man O’ War lived, near Lexington Kentucky.
If these musings prove true, the multiplicity of meanings embodied in historic significance will be embodied in spaces that were used in multiple ways by multiple agents, lending over time a multiplicity of significations. This will take us farther from the facade, or the facade will become – as it in in the Manek Chowk or Piazza Navona – an interior wall, a backdrop for actions that will resonate in that wall over time.
this place matters
As we slide into the Über future we should also take with us the other great lesson of preservation: how to make good buildings. We save them because they CAN be saved, because they have sufficient inherent resiliency to be repurposed. Indeed, preservation of old buildings, site and structures is all about resiliency. So when our 21st century shared space economy gets in full swing – remember where it started: with old buildings.
Its an asset, a resource, a performer that beats any new building by 48 truckloads of debris.
FYI last one is a totally altered 1880s cottage where Walter Burley Griffin and Marion Mahoney lived when they first married. You should see the amazing fireplaces they designed on the inside. Oh, and she lived there in the 1940s after Walter died and she was compiling Magic In America. So there.