In 1943 Ayn Rand wrote the novel Fountainhead, the story of Howard Rourk, the disillusioned architect struggling to make a living practicing Modern architecture in a world of tradition. Ms. Rand’s novel illustrates her fiction of the ideal modern man, and how individual genius triumphs over collectivism. In the end, Howard blows up his final masterpiece to avoid having it compromised by his client.
Today every student of architecture is expected to read Rand’s novel in order to prepare for a career of battles against the traditional collective (and no doubt also their clients)- of course, to illustrate to our future young architects that to compromise to tradition is to lose one’s integrity as an artist. Every student is taught that his or her genius will be the salvation of our society and that those who adhere to tradition would stand in the very way of that individual’s ability to change the world for the better.
As I walked through Old Harvard Yard, populated with students and groups of aspiring students herded to their orientation, I anticipated my arrival at Gund Hall, Harvard’s Graduate School of Architecture, where I was to give a talk. I passed from the verdant space filled with people, through the ornate iron Harvard gates into a sterile modern plaza that led to a large concrete bunker that I knew as my destination. I walked across the open space, and crossed the street to the front door. Here, I found a sign that said, “This is not an entrance”. I then circumvented a concrete silo to discover a non-descript door several meters down where I could enter. Although comical, not being able to recognize simple things like an entrance is so commonplace today that it has given way to the new industry of “way-finding”. It is a industry made up of (surprise) architects telling us how to find our way through our new edifices- something that has for millennia been a natural function of the buildings we occupy and use. The simple act of finding a front door has never been an issue until just recently.Gund Hall, Harvard’s Graduate School of Design- Front door (not) straight ahead.

Gund Hall, Harvard’s Graduate School of Design- Front door (not) straight ahead.
What is worse, is the assault on our cities and public spaces that we see today. With every architectural institution’s need to be different; with every architect who asserts his or her genius upon the common collective, we continue to diminish the public realm. It strikes at the very heart of who we are and who we think we are. As a society, we have allowed the narcissistic tendencies of a few to sever the continuum of our building history and all that it means to us as a people.
So we find ourselves challenged daily by the genius of others – those who wish to change our lives for the better, creating even greater challenges because, rather than trusting in human nature- the things that come naturally to us as functioning human beings, they have come to trust in their genius only. Someone recently directed me to the Latin definition of “idiot”, or Idiota- One who is concerned only with self-centeredness and has no regard for the public and refuses to take part in public life. I find the term humorously appropriate.
Note- We are not normally given to academic rants, and have no desire to draw battle lines within our profession. However, given the so very strong response to our last blog, I felt obligated to follow up with a couple of more entries on the subject of a balanced and responsible approach to architecture; after which, we will return to our normal, more light-hearted programming! Comments regarding way-finding were inspired by a recent talk by architect Elizabeth McNicholas of MGLM Architects, Chicago.
My family took a tour of Harvard yard last summer. The very genial student guide was openly abusive of Harvard’s newer buildings. He did not like them, but he also did not know where Gund Hall was and what and who they train there. We must do a better job of bringing knowledge of traditional architecture and its presence in present practice to the knowledge of those who know better than to embrace modernism but do not know how to do otherwise.
Quite frankly, Michael, I think it’s great to see you blogging on such matters. This is an important time in the culture of architecture. Rant on, I say.
-EKE
Nice article Michael. A former coworker of mine once remarked how he had no intent on understanding the details of traditional architecture. I asked him why. He replied that he only plans on designing modern buildings.
I have always believed that even the greatest modern architects of our time understood and at least somewhat appreciated traditional architecture, if not adhered to it. I did not understand this until I traveled to Europe for the first time, seeing how the avant-garde architecture manages to compliment their historical counterparts, no matter how strange they appear within the urban fabric.
A great example of this is IM Pei’s design of the glass pyramid at the Louvre in Paris. When you take the escalator and descend into the brightly-lit cavernous space below, beneath all that towering glass and tensile steel, you catch your breath to take in the awe-inspiring view of the 17th-century palace looming in the distance.
As a designer and a purist, I appreciate traditional architecture and the craftsmanship that goes along with it. A lot can be said about the bastardization of traditional buildings that lack scale, proportion, truth in materials, integrity, etc. No matter how much Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright opposed traditional architecture, I believe they would have opted to build their buildings next to something that was relevant and had historical precedent versus something that made a complete mockery of itself.
Wonderful Comment, Lawrence. I received an interesting fortune cookie the other day that appears relevant to this discussion, “He who has imagination without learning has wings but no feet”