1000 Words

To Be Human Is to Know Good Architecture                          

by Mackenzie Finklea

May 2019

In my time spent on this Earth, I’ve come across some very beautiful buildings. In my time at this university, I’ve gained some extra knowledge to help me appreciate some of those buildings. As my degree draws to a close, I find myself in more thought-provoking, discussion-based classes; such as this one. We’ve talked of several things concerning architecture: monumentality, timelessness, taste and style… but one theme that I just can’t shake from spending time in the school of architecture is the most peculiar mixture of elitism and self-doubt. Yes, I do see the irony. Allow me to explain.

I see elitism from students and faculty: “I know best because I am a trained architect.”

I see self-doubt from students and faculty: “What if my work is not good enough in the eyes of other trained architects?”

It seems that architects are fairly confident in their ability to identify the best works, better than say the layman, but are not so sure about their ability to execute it. I say, to hell with it all. 

For a moment, forget about rules, aesthetics, renowned architects and practices. Forget about the totem pole of authority and the pages upon pages of textbook material. Forget everything you’ve ever learned about architecture and follow along with me on this thoughtful dissection of your entire discipline… from a humble anthropologist’s perspective.

What is an architect? Without consulting any outside resource, I think that an architect is a person who designs a structure for humans to inhabit; temporarily or long-term. But why take my word for it? I’m not an “architecture major.” Let’s see what the all-knowing oracle, known as Google, has to say about it.

Architect (n.): a person who designs a building and advises in their construction.

Funny enough, the two definitions are almost identical. So, if myself, a non-architecture major, can develop a fairly accurate definition of what it means to be an architect, then I feel confident that I should be able to define “good” architecture. 

First, I wonder what does it mean to be an architect by society’s standards? A formal degree? A respected practice? Maybe none of those things. Maybe, perhaps, the “laymen” know “good” architecture when they see it. They certainly know “bad” music when they hear it. You don’t have to be Mozart to know that a toddler gleefully tinkering on the piano won’t top the charts, but it is music nonetheless. Or perhaps it could, since Mozart after all was only 4 when he began composing.

Maybe a toddler could produce a hit.

Maybe an all-star could compose a flop.

Maybe a layman could design an awe-inspiring building. 

Maybe an architecture student could produce an uninspiring work. 

Maybe a layman could design an efficient and functional living space.

Maybe “architects” produce awkward and poor spaces daily.

Maybe you’re thinking of one right now.

Studying architecture can give you the tools you need to pursue a career designing buildings and shelters for other humans. What studying under other studied architects will never give you is creativity or intuition to produce “good” architecture: those things simply cannot be taught. They are practiced, and they are honed; but talent is not taught, and we know this to be a universal truth. If this is so well known, then why are architects still so convinced that they know best? 

Architectural study can show you how, but it’s up to you to produce it. For a moment, consider architectural practice like a recipe. Someone can create an awe-inspiring and even innovative museum, like the renowned Guggenheim, and even show you exactly how to do it, but you could still end up with a Pinterest fail. Moreover, once something innovative has been created, is anything remotely similar just a copy? “No, it becomes a style.” 

So, is all of this, knowing “good” architecture, subjective? Is it all a matter of style and taste? We’ve touched on this thought several times this semester, and an architect would say, “No. There are rules. There are things that make architecture good.” Absolutely. There are rules to music. There are things that make music good. There are chord structures and progressions, tempos and beats; all things, if done “right,” make pleasant sounding music. By pleasant I mean not uncomfortable to the ears. So, what are the rules that make architecture pleasant: not uncomfortable to the body or eyes?

I’ve spent enough time on this Earth as a human to understand when music sounds good. When music sounds good, you have a positive reaction: or not a negative one. I also believe I’ve spent enough time on this Earth as a human to understand what makes architecture “good” by the same principle. I’ve learned the rules by living, not by studying. Architecture that evokes a positive response usually has one if not all of the following qualities: symmetry, consistency, efficiency, and creativity.

“Good” architecture is not as “subjective” as we might think. These four things that make architecture good are not only qualities or rules; they are human desires. The very nature of desiring involves seeking pleasure, and these four things evoke pleasant feelings.

You don’t have to be an architect to know good architecture. You have to be human.

Being human means feeling, emoting, expressing. So maybe it is style; maybe it’s taste. Bottom line: it’s reaction. Take a look at your favorite building, think about how it makes you feel, and look for these four qualities.

I’m not here to say that, by any means, I have the tools to execute good architecture: those things have not been taught to me, but I am saying that I certainly understand it when I see it. Also take a moment to consider the difference between good and great. I argue one is far more superior to the other and therefore has a different set of defining qualities, but that’s a provocation for another time.

To be human, is to know good architecture. I am human. Plain and simple.