Merging Creativity, Sustainability, and Functionality: A Challenge to 21st-Century Architecture - Essay Example

? Merging Creativity, Sustainability, and Functionality: A Challenge to 21st-Century Architecture Essay of University Introduction Architecture has been revitalised at the advent of the 21st century. Permeated with all forms of vigour from postmodern and contemporary designs, city and social demands, creativity, and new technologies, architecture is once more the limelight of urban planning across the globe. Extreme architecture is the norm at present. However, concerns for functional and sustainable design are still widespread. Thus, the question is, can creativity and sustainability be brought together in architecture? Is it possible to adhere to innovative, creative, or radical architectural designs without compromising functionality and sustainability? This essay tries to answer these questions. According to architect David Marks: Innovative architecture is now recognised as a powerful catalyst for economic regeneration and revival of our towns and cities. Imbued with visual and aesthetic appeal, it can provide an iconic and symbolic role, attracting vast numbers of visitors, underpinning tourism, and becoming so familiar that it is recognised around the world as a symbol of a particular place. When allied to an inspiring concept and supported by a strong business case, innovative architecture can provide a tremendous boost to the economy, vibrancy, civic pride and attractiveness of a city or town. Vision, scale, but above all the quality of design, engineering and purpose are the most important factors in determining the success of innovative architecture.1 David Marks believes that innovative or extreme architecture can exists in harmony with goals of functionality and sustainability. Nowadays, as remarked by Deyan Sudjic, “for any architect not to profess passionate commitment to ‘green’ buildings is professional suicide”.2 In architectural literature, the sustainable and functional necessity is depicted and viewed as a common dilemma in immediate need of solution through a joint attempt, comprising “actors as joint members of a new and all inclusive risk community.”3 Nevertheless, outside this clear agreement and growing acceptance of sustainable design ideals “the designation ‘green’ is extremely wide ranging, encompassing many viewpoints and open to broad interpretation”.4 Basically, the tension between creativity, functionality, and sustainability has transformed. As several scholars have claimed, it has become widespread due to the existence of extreme architecture. It no longer merely addresses the issue of whether an environmental crisis exists. Rather, the discourse on sustainable and functional architecture can be viewed as a setting of generally disjointed and conflicting interests and ideals. It has become a locus of incompatible perspectives wherein different actors take part in an unbroken practice of creating and recreating the meaning of architecture. Form and Function: Harmony or Conflict? Architecture is shaped by multitudes of design aspects which affect the preferences of architects. This intricacy usually creates conflicts. Underlying the entire design process is the age-old dilemma of function and form. Due to intricacy, different functional requirements emerge which should be translated into a generally effective design preference. A form is mostly shaped by a number of functional concerns.5 It is without a doubt that when architects choose their designs, they have purposes or functions for their designs. However, they can never completely anticipate and prove their outcome. Stewart Brand states that: Sullivan’s form-follows-function misled a century of architects into believing that they could really anticipate function. Churchill’s ringing and-then-they-shape-us truncated the fuller cycle of reality. First, we shape our buildings, then they shape us, then we shape them again—ad infinitum. Function reforms form, perpetually.6 When architects design a structure to accomplish a particular function, they endow it with particular features allowing it to carry out this function. Architects always choose a design for specific functions. It is quite easy to look for examples of how function influenced creative or fascinating designs. In the latter part of the 1800s fast-paced urbanisation required a large number of rigorous public services. Simultaneously, three key occurrences arose which radically transformed the design of office buildings: ‘steel framing, elevators and large sheet glass windows.’7 Steel framing enabled almost clear floor plan designs. Elevators facilitated the construction of skyscrapers. Large windows allowed natural interior lighting. A classic, perfect example is Chicago’s The Reliance Building, designed by Charles Atwood8: *image taken from Google Pictures Forceful demands for research and educational structures after the Second World War led to the re-evaluation of the relationship between form and function. In educational structures it resulted in particular spaces for educational activities. In research structures it resulted in a demand for adaptability in service processes with, partly, definite differentiation of service spaces and tasks. For these two forms of structure integration of services and huge structural expanses were the solution. The Science Centre at Harvard University, designed by Sert and colleagues, is an excellent example.9 Science Centre at Harvard University *image taken from Google Picture Nasar and colleagues discovered in a 2005 research about disclosing general function in the design of structures that “... people infer meanings from housing, restaurant, and small suburban-office exteriors; and this suggests strong commonalities in those inferences”.10 However, “... some building types failed to express, in the exterior form, codes that convey to ordinary the function housed inside.”11 Also, “... one might argue that architectural form and function has a many-to-many relationship, or that certain functions are not distinguishable through architectural form.”12 Function concerns relationships. It shows its effect in the design preference. In the intricacy of architecture, the effect of function can never be totally demonstrated because not all physical attributes of a design are discernible. The fundamental components of architecture explained by Vitruvius have stayed basically the same since olden days. According to him, architecture should offer beauty, stability, and functionality. By functionality, Vitruvius refers to the layout of spaces so that a structure is effectively adapted to its location. Stability means that support is strong and that the building materials are correctly chosen. Beauty means that “the appearance of the work is pleasing and in good taste, and [that] its members are in due proportion according to correct principles of symmetry”.13 Regardless of how this idea of beauty could have been interpreted by the following generations, the Vitruvian ideal is until now a reliable outline of the components of good architecture. However, the description of function became confined to an entirely involuntary or emotionless term with the emergence of the International Modern Architecture movement. The framework of this kind of structure was introduced by the AEG Turbine Factory and by Walter Gropius.14 This kind of structure was nearly entirely influenced by internal industrial procedures. Gropius, in 1926, designed the Bauhaus school building in Germany, the training annex of which epitomised industrial acceptance: *image taken from Google Pictures Simultaneously, Gropius described the new architectural concept: “A thing is determined by its nature and if it is to be fashioned so as to work properly, its essence must be investigated and fully grasped. A thing must answer its purpose in every way, that is fulfil its function in a practical sense, and must thus be serviceable, reliable, and cheap”.15 Le Corbusier, a Swiss-French architect, explained the functional failure of the modern house, remarking that, for the modern architecture and the modern period required by it, “the house is a machine for living in.”16 In 1929, architect Bruno Tau summed up the objective of International Modern architecture: “The aim of architecture is the creation of the perfect, d therefore most beautiful, efficieney”17—put simply, beauty would arise mechanically from the most rigid functionality. Schopenhauer deviates from the Vitruvian principle. He rejects the notion of basing architectural designs from images provided by nature. He talks about matters of proportion, symmetry, and form entirely with regard to the concept of structure18: Now all the laws of columnar arrangement, and consequently the form and proportion of the column in all its parts and dimensions down to the smallest detail, follow from the conception of the adequately appropriate support to a given load, a conception well understood and consistently followed out: therefore to this extent they are determined a priori. It is then clear how absurd is the idea, so often repeated, that the trunks of trees, or even the human form (as unfortunately stated even by Vitruvius, iv. 1) were the prototype of the column. The form of the column would then be for architecture a purely accidental one taken from outside.19 Nevertheless, the dilemma that became more and more evident as the 20th century progressed was that only a handful of buildings have the type of internal mechanism that can identify form in a pragmatic manner. Almost all human endeavours cannot be measured in numbers or diminished into a sort of automatic process. Louis I. Kahn, an American architect, said that “when you make a building, you make a life. It comes out of life, and you really make a life. It talks to you. When you have only the comprehension of the function of a building, it would not become an environment of a life”.20 One more dilemma confronted recently is that only a handful of buildings have kept on performing the function for which they were initially intended for. This has required adjustments, expansions, of the building of entirely new structures, with the original structure being transferred to a new function.21 The tendency is to argue that the old structure was no longer functional because it is not able to meet the new needed function. In reality, it could have performed its original function quite efficiently. The solution then is to design a structure in such a manner that any potential future functions can be met. This perspective was adopted by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe in the latter part of the 20th century. He formulated the “all-purpose space” or “universal space”.22 In fact, Mies is rumoured to have revealed that he and his colleagues did not match form to function: “We reverse this, and make a practical and satisfying shape, and then fit the functions into it. Today this is the only practical way to build, because the functions of most buildings are continually changing, but economically the building cannot change”.23 This is illustrated in the Crown Hall’s massive solitary room. Crown Hall’s Large Single Room *image taken from Google Pictures Although a massive solitary room can certainly accommodate any kinds of future activities, it fails to effectively function acoustically, because a sound produced in any area of the room undulates and echoes throughout the whole space. Mies merely adopted the idea that “there was a universality of human needs and function”.24 Sadly, this idea, quite compelling due to its obvious scientific plainness, disregards the fact that function is shaped by cultural and social factors, and that the form of a building is also a reaction to its physical climate and situation. Consequently, function has numerous elements, the most fundamental of which is ‘pragmatism’ or the taking up of a particular function in a particular space. Obviously, many buildings are made up of spaces with interconnected functions. Hence, people have to transfer from one space to another. Therefore, the ‘circulatory function’—the arrangement of rooms to provide easy movement from one place to another-- is almost as essential as the ‘pragmatic function’.25 When the Paris Opera was designed by Charles Garnier in 1861, he examined the opera’s function. Definitely the people of Paris come to the opera to listen to music, but as precisely understood by Garnier there was possibly a greater social function of the opera—people come to the opera to watch and be seen.26 An architect who took advantage of the possibility of expressive design by commemorating various functional endeavours was Alvar Aalto, a Finnish architect. An excellent proof of this is the Benedictine Monastery at Mount Angel. The main pragmatic function is to accommodate written materials which are organised in bookshelves that are arranged northward. However, the other activities needed different rooms.27 Each of the rooms is located where it has to be and is formed the optimum way to perform its function. Benedictine Monastery at Mount Angel (The Library) *image taken from Google Picture A structure also possesses a ‘symbolic function’ and displays a noticeable declaration of its function. People normally expect a certain degree of connection between what the structure seems to ‘indicate’ its function is and what its function ‘really’ is. Among the Baroque and Renaissance architect, Romans, Greek, and Egyptians from the 15th century to the 18th century, there were common rules as regards the appearance and design of structures for particular functions, but today there is a significantly greater leeway.28 Hence, beginning from the 1920s, architects had to perform two tasks at the same time: create original designs employing new construction technologies and formulate correct symbolic images for the uses they are accommodating.29 Frequently, the use of new technologies has overwhelmed the importance of symbolic depiction, and numerous 20th-century structures express less or nothing about their functions. No architectural design is committed entirely to a sole function. Almost all structures embody a combination of entirely symbolic function and pragmatic function. In addition, good architecture has physiological and physical uses to perform. As an illustration, a waiting room at a hospital or clinic is a site where almost all people feel a sense of intense fear. The architect may realise that building a domestic ambiance, with a garden outside, would contribute to the alleviation of those fears.30 Finally, buildings also have a ‘psychological function’, which may be described as the best gratification of all the forms of functions discussed.31 Possibly, the contemporary architect who ideally attained psychological use was Louis I. Kahn. Kahn thoroughly studied the actual functions of a laboratory, and he discovered that using the entirely pragmatic function of making room for carrying out experiments was simply a portion of his project. He was lucky, as well, that Jonas Salk, his customer, already saw the importance of something greater than the pragmatic use. As stated by Kahn, Salk understood that “the scientist... needed more than anything the presence of the unmeasurable, which is the realm of the artist”.32 Hence, the laboratory rooms were divided into two portions, small rooms for thinking and study, and large rooms for activities. The large rooms for performing experiments are located beyond the U-shaped layout.33 The work rooms are large and functionally capable, while the spaces for reflection are small, private, and conducive for studying. Creativity, Functionality, and Sustainability: Is there really a Conflict? ‘Green’ or ecological design is undoubtedly the key feature of sustainable architecture. Nevertheless, it is poorly understood and defined nowadays, which implies that sustainable architecture has a weak grounding. Sustainability is about putting together natural and built systems. To put together two incompatible elements, each should be accurately recognised in its own point of view. Current knowledge of the innate features of built systems is pragmatic and specific. On the other hand, architects’ knowledge of ecological structures is broad, often creative or imaginative.34 In both dimensions, the connections between geometries and systems are still taken for granted, with designs and forms created by routine and without creativity. There is an important need to gain knowledge of the central attributes of natural and built systems, and to take advantage of these commonalities and dissimilarities creatively. The central attributes that relate largely to sustainable architecture can be referred to as principles, geometries, and processes. The prospect of sustainable architecture may depend less on technological developments than in whether architects can resolve the differences between the central attributes of built and natural systems. Building does not generate its raw materials, but transforms current materials into components, and bring together those units into structures. This is quite apparent that it is usually taken for granted, but has a crucial impact on the geometry and processes of building.35 Cutting and assembling, along with form-making, are the fundamental processes of building. In living systems, immediate similarities to these processes are unusual. Constructing an arch and forming slabs is downright dissimilar from natural occurrences forming a stone arc.36 Building is a controlled process, governed by a particular tool and ruling out irrelevant factors. Form-making in natural systems is significantly distinct from the processes of building. Natural processes are erosion, decomposition, and growth, all totally unique than the assembly process of building. Mathematical knowledge of nature’s geometry is new, and architects are recently beginning to understand it. Caused by the processes of growth and decay, natural forms are referred to as ‘fractals’.37 They arise when diverse factors work together continually over time. Two principles should be mentioned here: Fractals represent long-term dynamic stability among many forces in a system, with no single dominant force (virtually a definition of biodiversity and health).38 Fractals are the optimal geometry for doing what natural systems do—collecting, transporting, and diffusing resources, filtering and recycling wastes, etc.39 Building, on the other hand, is clearly about constructing systems from which the effects of environmental and climactic change are left out, for the time being. Every structure clashes to a certain extent with nature’s forms and processes. Building makes the most of a few chosen alternatives; living systems seem to focus on diversity. Building seeks structural stability; living systems independently create permanence through change.40 Understanding the central attributes of natural and built systems can contribute to the discovery of new sustainability approaches, and assess current ones. A particular method is adopting architectural designs that are more naturalistic. Other methods are plain landscape integration and cyclical buildings. These approaches do not view creativity, functionality, and sustainability as conflicting ideals.41 Sustainable architecture is the trend nowadays. Traditional material- and energy-efficient architectural designs are not likely to be sufficient. The future of sustainable architecture is at the periphery between natural and built systems, where the forms needed by the built system interact with the forms needed by natural systems. Architects’ obsession with appearance is obviously not beneficial.42 Architects should use their visual expertise to appreciate how creativity and sustainability, or form and function, interrelate, not only in built systems, not only in natural systems, but at the boundaries between the two. One of the most useful activities that can be carried out for the future of the environment is to inspire and empower a huge number of individuals. If a sufficient number of individuals are sincerely concerned, important changes would be initiated. The drive for change will emanate from people’s knowledge and experiences of remarkably pristine, undamaged green landscapes, but also from informing people about the importance of understanding and restoring destroyed spaces. Whilst the former is the idea of naturalists, the latter is greatly the interest of landscape architects and restoration conservationists.43 By means of combining functionality and creativity, forming what may be referred to as ‘functional art’, architects can help in protecting nature. The explanation for this is that creativity or functionality alone failed to contribute wholly to the dream of infusing love for the natural world.44 For instance, nobody would be motivated by a sanitary, engineered canal to save other bodies of water. It was eloquently stated that “Art is the science of feeling. Science is the art of knowing. We must know to be able to do. But we must feel to know what to do”.45 But can ‘science’ and ‘art’, or ‘knowing’ and ‘feeling, be united by architecture as a way of protecting nature? Of course, it can, as proven probably by the current construction of beautiful and functional structures. For example, wetland architecture merges creativity and functionality. Wetlands have been built mainly by scientists and engineers for the improvement of water quality and prevention of flooding. Although such wetlands have worked successfully, their usually four-sided form has poorly benefitted flora and fauna and has been an artistic failure. However, the fusion of creativity and functionality has been quite successfully carried out in the construction of treatment wetland parks.46 *image taken from Google Pictures The movement away from one-dimensional wetlands towards multifunctional wetland parts is the achievement of sustainable architecture. There is no real disagreement between creativity and functionality. And, as many architects believe, the own functional forms of nature are absolutely stunning: “Sustainable landscapes need conspicuous expression and visible interpretation, and that is where the creative and artistic skills of the landscape architect are most critically needed”.47 The architectural design of Julia Barfield and David Marks suggest a direct connection between creativity and functionality. This principle creates a general perspective that guides all their designs. A case in point is their idea of a Bridge of the Future.48 The instructions stated that the bridge must be associated with nature and this encouraged Barfield and Marks to study how nature would guide the bridge’s design and to examine the largest bridge that was formed by nature. They found inspiration in a dinosaur’s spine, resulting in an examination of how the spine worked. The design then resembles the bone of a herring fish.49 The Bridge of the Future This shows a method usually espoused by architects, in which ingenious solution is used and revised for later projects. By enhancing the design little by little the risk factor is lessened. And by matching form with function sustainable architecture becomes stronger. There are numerous descriptions of sustainability. Engineers, who are more concerned with function than form, define sustainability as the maximisation of energy, abilities, and resources for the greater good. Architects, who are more interested in form than function, define sustainability in a different way. Architects are recreating the concept of ‘greater good’, and engineers are moving towards the improvement of their work efficiency.50 The working relationship between engineers and architects actually represents the relationship between creativity, functionality, and sustainability. However, what are usually overlooked in discourses between architects and engineers are the essential matters related to the science of building. As remarked by Christopher McCarthy: “It is common sense: hot air rises, gravity pulls us towards the ground, wind pushes buildings over. These are three forces that we, as engineers, work with. And, as engineers working with architects, I feel that the boundaries between our disciplines are fading”.51 Sadly, the idea of sustainable architecture has been used and promoted quite willingly that it is now an ambiguous notion. Conclusions Buildings have different functions, not only pragmatic. However, nowadays, we are witnessing the rapid rise to popularity of extreme architecture. The question that begs answer is thus, is this extreme architecture sustainable? Or does it meet the functional requirements of architecture? Yes, extreme architecture produces beautiful, exquisite, and original structures. But does this form of creativity overweigh the importance of building sustainable and functional structures? As shown in the discussion, all these aspects—beauty, functionality, and sustainability—can be brought together by architecture for the benefit of humankind. Bibliography Brand, Stewart. How buildings learn: what happens after they’re built (Indiana: Viking, 1994). Brandle, Kurt. Meaning and Aesthetics in Architecture (UK: Kurt Brandle, 2012). Brookes, Alan & Poole, Dominique. Innovation in Architecture (London: Spon Press, 2003). Brookes, Alan & Poole, Dominique. Innovation in Architecture: A Path to the Future (London: Taylor & Francis, 2012). Fox, Warwick. Ethics and the Built Environment (London: Routledge, 2012). Jenks, Mike, Burton, Elizabeth, & Williams, Katie. The Compact City: A Sustainable Urban Form? (London: E & FN Spon, 1996). Kibert, Charles. Sustainable Construction: Green Building Design and Delivery (UK: John Wiley & Sons, 2007). Muller, Dominique & Favet, Nicolas. Sustainable Architecture and Urbanism: Design, Construction, Examples (The Netherlands: Springer, 2002). Roth, Leland. Understanding Architecture: Its Elements, History, and Meaning (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 2007). Saunders, William. Nature, Landscape, and Building for Sustainability: A Harvard Design Magazine Reader (Minnesota: University of Minnesota Press, 2008). Scott, Andrew. Dimensions of Sustainability: Architecture Form, Technology, Environment, Culture (London: E & FN Spon, 1998). Thompson, William & Sorvig, Kim. Sustainable Landscape Construction: A Guide to Green Building Outdoors (Washington, DC: Island Press, 2000). Vandenabeele, Bart. A Companion to Schopenhauer (UK: John Wiley & Sons, 2012). Read More