One of my all-time favorite classes in college was David Brownlee’s history of modern architecture. It was one of those few classes that genuinely changed the way I was able to look at buildings and cities, by introducing me to the vocabulary of modern architecture, and giving me a measure of appreciation for interesting places I’ve visited since.

So between that background and my current gig, I was interested to see Slate architecture critic Witold Rybczynski argue that avant-garde architecture, which is often described as “‘experimental,’ ‘innovative,’ or ‘cutting edge'”- and thus a preview of what everyone will be designing in years to come- is actually a pretty unreliable guide to the future of architecture:

the term architectural avant-garde is an oxymoron, since an architect, unlike a painter, is able to experiment only within relatively narrow bounds. Buildings are expensive, and they are intended to last a long time, so the people who build them tend to be risk-averse…. Even if a building succeeds in breaking the mold, that is no guarantee that it is showing the way, for innovative buildings rarely anticipate the future. There have been exceptions. Frank Lloyd Wright’s first Usonian house, built in 1936, with its one-story living, open plan, carport, and low-slung roof, did foreshadow the ranch houses of the ’50s and ’60s, and Mies van der Rohe’s novel Lake Shore Drive apartment towers in Chicago, completed in 1951, were the first example of the steel-and-glass-curtain wall that would dominate commercial architecture for the next two decades….

The truth is that buildings belong firmly to their own time. This is especially true of architecture that self-consciously attempts to predict the future. That’s why the settings of old sci-fi movies are often so funny; the future never turns out the way people imagine. Most buildings have a shelf life of 20 to 30 years; that is, it takes 20 to 30 years before they are perceived as “old-fashioned.” This doesn’t mean that the buildings are ugly, or not useful, or not cherished—simply that they now represent the past. That’s not necessarily a bad thing—it would be disorienting to live in an environment that never aged (actually, it would be like living in Las Vegas).

[To the tune of Mogwai, “Big E,” from the album “Life at Cafe de la Danse, Paris, May 14, 2001”.]

Technorati Tags: architecture

This forthcoming issue of Convergence looks really interesting.

Special Issue on ‘Digital Cultures of California’

Guest editor: Julian Bleecker (Near Future Laboratory and University of Southern California)

This call invites submissions for a special issue related to digital cultures of California. Internationally, California is a phenomenon in terms of its relationship to creating, consuming and analyzing the era of digital technologies. From the legendary garage entrepreneurs, to the multi-billion dollar culture of venture capital, to stock back-dating scandals, to the epic exodus of California’s IT support staff during the Burning Man festival, this territory plays an important role in the political, cultural and economic underpinnings of digitally and network-mediated lives on a global scale.

Half of my brain trying to figure out if there’s some piece of my end of cyberspace project that I can carve out and submit, and the other half is more sensibly telling me to get the Hell back to work on the book ms. This damn essay on paper spaces- on how some interactions with paper are more architectural and spatial than merely personal (obviously I need to work on the language a little)- is the last distraction I should allow myself.

[To the tune of Billy Idol, “Flesh for Fantasy,” from the album “Rebel Yell”.]

Technorati Tags: California, digital culture, end of cyberspace, postacademic, writing

The New York Times recently had a small, but surprisingly touching, article about educator Janusz Korczak and the last surviving members of the orphanage he ran:

They are in their 80s now, the last living links to Janusz Korczak, the visionary champion of children’s rights who refused to part with his young charges even as they were herded to the gas chambers.

When they speak of him, the old men are young again: transported to their days in his orphanage, a place they remember as a magical republic for children as the Nazi threat grew closer.

Korczak’s ideas for a declaration of children’s rights were posthumously adopted by the United Nations, and dozens of Korczak associations exist worldwide. Last year, a compilation of his advice for parents was published under the title “Loving Every Child.” Its message: listen to children at their level, celebrate their quirks and dreams.

His work at the orphanage was interrupted in 1940 when the Nazis forced him and his orphans into the Warsaw Ghetto.

A pediatrician, educator and writer, he was born Henryk Goldszmit (Korczak was a pen name) to a Jewish family in 1878. He was beloved in Poland for his children’s stories and the radio show on which he counseled parents. Friends offered to smuggle him out of the ghetto, but he refused to abandon the children. When it came time to be deported to the Treblinka death camp in 1942, he led them, each clutching a favorite toy or game, in a silent march of protest to the train that would carry them to their deaths.

[To the tune of Joni Mitchell, “Blue,” from the album “Blue”.]

Technorati Tags: education