For those of you familiar with Bill Watterson’s comic, Calvin & Hobbes, you’d know Calvin and his toy tiger would play a game called Calvinball – an anything-goes-make-up-the-rules-as-you-go-along bastardization of a variation of sports and often, something that does not resemble sport at all and is at times, completely absurd, in the best way possible. This brings me to modernism and post-modernism and the way in which both still influence our design thinking today and why the latter was (and is) so important.
Going down this road requires an explanation of the dialectic cycle and a basic understanding of modernism and post-modernism within the context of architecture thereafter we can get back to Calvin & Hobbes and hopefully it will all make sense (or not) by the time we get there.
The dialectical method is a mode of an idea that a thesis (artistic movement) would spawn an antithesis, resulting in synthesis. This creates a new thesis which would be subject to the same interrogation. Applied to modernism which formed a new paradigm as a direct counter-reaction to its original ideas resulting, in a new thesis – Post-modernism!
Modernism is a term that encompasses many movements across a broad variation of timelines and disciplines and here I am merely referring to the architectural movement; primarily championed early on by architects such as Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier. It is characterized by embracing minimalism and in this way sought to reject tradition and stand as an antithesis to the classical.
Modernism became the most prevalent design approach within architecture in both the United States and Europe, especially following World War 2. However, various architects rejected the formal notion of a “building as a machine for living” and sought to physically represent symbolism, ornament and other cultural doctrines rejected by the modernists.
This was to certain degree a Calvinball free-for-all of architecture and stood in stark contrast to the dignified, clean and clinical modernist structures that were the norm for the previous few decades.
Post-modernism re-introduced adornment, frivolity and a much less formal approach to the buildings it cultivated; many of which are still to this day revered as excellent examples from that time.
The Venturi House (1964) is widely considered the first post-modern building and its designers, Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown, were essential in aesthetically encouraging the movement with their book, Learning from Las Vegas, which (in a nutshell) posturized that the vulgar and kitsch neon signage and world-landmark appropriation in Las Vegas was appropriate to its function and context and therefore could be aesthetically excused, if not embraced.
My favourite example of Post-modern architecture is the San-Cataldo Cemetery (1971) by Aldo Rossi, which appears strictly formal but was more subtle in it’s expression of symbolism and meaning, remaining appropriate to the brief and respectful of the genius loci of the place, proving that Post-modernist architecture did not need to be frivolous or kitsch to move away from modernist ideals and maintain it’s character as reaction to modernism.
A less favourite example of Post-Modern architecture would Michael Graves’ Eisner Building, built for Team Disney as part of it’s headquarters. It famously appropriates the ancient greek architectural element of a caryatid, a sculpted figure of a woman taking the place of a column, with the seven dwarves from Snow White. Aesthetically, I do not care for it and feel it takes the post-modern idea a little too far – but should personal taste count when discussing architectural preservation matters?
Many famous modernist architects, like Philip Johnson, went on to design post-modern structures and while they may be less high-brow than the modernist work they did, the point was for architecture to once again appeal to general public. The way I see it, the point was really for everyone to feel like they could make up the rules and do as they please – much like Calvinball.
Some may call it a moment of madness while others find it to be a breath of fresh air. Case in point; The AT&T building in New York, designed by a modernist champion and icon, Philip Johnson. Albeit, similar in principle, this building, like very few others like it, gets something right yet still seems far fetched to most architects today. This has raised the important question that led me to undertaking this thought piece: Who decides what buildings we preserve and what buildings we demolish. What is the value of art outside its stylistic period of romanticism?
I don’t have the answers, but I believe art should be preserved, whether or not it one’s favourite piece of art, or an obscure artwork from a particular period that one cannot bare the sight of.