Landmarks

The Grand Canyon. The Eiffel Tower. The Great Wall of China. The Damon's off exit 110 on US-127?

I was discussing a project a few months ago at an interim stage of the work, and my colleague suggested to me that the structure might be a bit too monumental for the small scope of the assignment. My gut instinct was to argue that there's no reason to avoid monumentality, but following the suggestions of some folk to whom i am terribly indebted, i considered the point. It makes a lot of sense on a lot of levels, i have to admit.

Monumentality can be an awfully annoying thing. For example, most stores take shot at it in one way or another, usually through signs (the McDonald's arch is pretty iconic in that regard). Monuments say "hey! hey look at me!". The "good" ones say something culturally, historically, or otherwise important, like the examples of the Eiffel Tower or the Great Wall. Still others, which are neither "good" nor "bad" but simply "awesome" (in the true meaning of the word), like the Grand Canyon, instill in us feelings which most of us ignore most of the time; this is why we flock to them in the first place -- rare, sometimes new experiences.

But i was not designing anything on the scope of the Eiffel Tower. Would my building draw needless attention only to reveal...nothing beyond it?

I'll interject with a story. I visited some relatives in a mid-sized town in Wisconsin a year or two back. One of my younger cousins was working in a diner, and we had all gone there one morning when she was working. Here, in the most unlikely of places, was this big, leather-clad biker dude. His jacket was tossed across the back of his chair. Where his t-shirt ended, tattoos picked up covering the skin of his arms -- more were visible on his neck. Totally cliché biker, totally out of place. But what was even more strange was what he was doing, waiting for his food. He was reading a book (no no, that's not the strange part). I looked closer, expecting to find some trashy novel, fulfilling my stereotyped biker. It was Sophie's Choice. Wow. I did NOT see that one coming.

My brother had pointed this out to me, and he proceeded to launch into an explanation of how he loved to have his stereotypes challenged, how it reminded him that each person is an individual.

In my previous post i wrote about causes, and how we cement certain understandings of them in order to keep them straight. This applies to humans, too -- if you go into a 7-11 and the guy behind the counter has an AK-47, a mask on, and is "stocking" the liquor into a box, he's probably not going to ring up your Slurpee. That's a stereotype -- and, if i do say so myself, a damn useful one. It's important for us to distinguish characteristics of people based on appearance -- if you didn't, the 7-11 teller might shoot you one day, and you'll feel pretty stupid! When we do this wrong, it's called prejudice. When we do it properly, it's discerning.

I read an article once (sadly, i've lost the citation) which described a number of attributes upon which strangers evaluate you on first sight. These included the obvious like physical attractiveness, but also intelligence, social standing, and relative wealth. I wonder what first impressions people make of buildings?

Which brings me back to the topic of the project, which i eventually reined it in so that it would stand out without falling victim to landmark-tropes, and by referencing other landmarks in the area. The details are unimportant, but the mechanism by which it was interesting was much more subtly appreciated than the original design. When it advertised its monumentality, the design was not an individual in my mind, but an archetype. But no building should be designed as an archetype, because it can never achieve that goal. It may be perceived that way as a way to understand the environment, but that would be only a superficial involvement with the site.

So why would i mention a restaurant that hardly anyone knows (remember the beginning of the post)? Despite its blasé (archetypal) qualities, it is an individual. Unfortunately, i doubt its architects conceived of it as such.

When i return home from a particular direction, it's the first building that says to me "hey, you're pretty much home now." Sure, i can read the signs that tell me i'm, say, 3 miles out (that's 5 km for you metric folk), but it doesn't really have the same feeling of arrival. And i don't even go to that Damon's. In fact, i think it's owned by a different restaurant chain now, but it's still the same building. It's nothing special, really, but for some subconscious reason, it's the furthest point from my house that heralds arrival.

Which is just one example of how anything can become a landmark. There are others, to be sure. Admittedly, some places are more likely to be landmarks than others. Still, no matter what the building, there's no reason to shy away from monumentality. Ostentatious self-presentation, sure, but if you have a really great idea, there's no sense dumbing it down because it's loud. Let the world hear your thoughts!

And if it's a building, and your idea sucks, we can always tear it down later.