On Humanity and Architecture

On Humanity and Architecture A Travel Journal

By: Joshua Forrest Gabbard

...I’ll start off by saying the journey I took cannot be summed up by images, sketches, diagrams, or any other abstractions of reality. Quite frankly, I don’t believe that any journey worthwhile can be compressed as such. As a student of architecture, there’s a distinct feeling that arises as one approaches the location of any previously studied site, particularly of historic significance. Books, slides, and the shared knowledge of Professors will never compare to experiencing a building in person. Chills, an increased heartbeat, and childish excitement begins to outline the effects of these encounters. Some may view this as a traveler’s ecstasy of sorts – experiencing a new place never ceases to rouse. However, some in the architecture field may dig a bit deeper and categorize it as an encounter with the spirit of place – the “genus loci”.

It is through this lens that one may find an omnipresent order.

Architecture that Heals A haze of gloom still surrounds the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics due to the tragic events that transpired there – a memory only further tarnished when one thinks of the national image Germany tried to reframe after the games held in Nazi Germany in 1936. However, one may re-evaluate the success of the games in 1972 by the way in which this site lives on today. As a return to the idea of Olympic afterlife - a guiding thought that this particular Lyceum competition situated itself around – I decided to visit what I consider to be the most intriguing Olympic site ever built.

As I stood atop the hill overlooking the site, thinking about the layers of World War II rubble that lay buried beneath my feet, a storm began to march in from the West. As people scattered about the site, the structure that was originally designed as a series of hills, became a protective canopy. The outstretching form provided shelter for those who came to enjoy a bit of democratic freedom in the landscape. The park was bustling with activity before the rain began to fall and as the storm rolled in, very few abandoned course.

There is something to be said about resiliency in architecture, and this building, while lightweight in construction and light at heart, epitomizes resiliency beyond edifice.

1

In Architecture Nature , Frei Otto describes his collaborative research that led to many of his breakthroughs in form, stating “We wanted to know whether our bold assertion that ‘In the beginning was the pneu’ was really true and if this lightest of all lightweight structures did indeed lead to a preliminary stage of life”.

Analyzing my experience retrospectively, these thoughts and others outlined by Otto truly begin to materialize. Otto understood nature not as a system built to withstand anything, but as a system of fragile equilibrium – one in which simple provocations could lead to disaster. Instead of trying to leave his ideological mark with imposing massivity or monumentality, he planted a seed with the hopes that it might evolve into something much larger – an archaeon of the site, if you will. Veins and arteries; limbs and roots now spread out from the site as a nation is reborn and the collective memory of its people continues to heal. Though dark shadows may be cast from clouds above, the imbedded programmatic and metaphysical functions may serve to remind and protect the people of Germany from storms to come...

Future, Revisited The third leg of my travel took me into the heart of the old empire: Rome, Italy. It goes without saying that Rome is beautiful.

However, as with anything of great beauty, there’s always the possibility that something quite evil lies just beneath the skin.

With an understanding of the past and an eye for the future, I can say for certain that the most unsettling site I visited was the Flavian Amphitheatre. The bones of this colossus structure brought to life not only the programmatic exploits of such a structure, but the societal power dynamics and attitudes toward humanity that eventually destroyed a proliferating empire.

When you put aside the grandeur, the well-articulated ornamentation and the detailing of such a body, you are left with nothing more than a playground for violence, over-indulgence, and blood-thirsty amusement. This was part of the model for entertainment in Roman times – distraction was a key political tool.

Two thousand years from now, I wonder how a student of architecture might look at the skeletal remains of a large athletic structure such as Cowboys Stadium in Dallas. Maybe they’ll see the beauty of such a feat of engineering – perhaps as a statement of man’s progress. Maybe they’ll reflect on the large crowds that gathered on Sundays to see the heroes of our time battle for glory… or maybe the facade will have withered away…

Future, Revisited This is not to say that beauty doesn’t still exist in the present state, but rather the deep connections to Western society prove to send signals into the current of a future that is bound to repeat itself if we don’t slow down.

This described beauty does not exist in the physical remnants of the past being held up by life supporting scaffolds; but rather in voids throughout the city, both interior and exterior, that cater specifically to the human moving throughout the public realm. The best way to see Rome is to just start walking. After meeting up with two of my good friends from college, that’s precisely what we did – we walked. Just as any architecture student will tell you, seeing this far back into history is breathtaking. Every turn of the corner is something of architectural or historic significance.

However, the most important lesson that I wish to carry on from Rome has nothing to do with architecture at all. As we wandered around the city, often aimlessly, the beauty of Rome emerged as we began to simply slow down. With the rapidity of modern life and the push for hyper-productivity, it is often forgotten how important it is to take time and relax. Reflection and deep thinking goes a long way in the face of distraction and chaos. Sharing a bottle of wine on the steps overlooking the Pantheon… laying around in the Circus sketching Palatine hill… sitting on the Ponte Sisto Bridge until the early hours of morning: these are the experiences in which I will remember Rome and perhaps how the Romans remembered it as well.

Architecture that Lives

Like a crossroads in time and culture, the second leg, or crux of my journey took me to Amman, Jordan. I could attempt to characterize the architecture to place you in the region, but that wouldn’t do it any justice—it was the heartbeat of the area that caught my attention. Every site, sound, and sensation was just a bit different from anything I’ve ever known. Amman is a city of around 4 million 2 people set within the rolling desert hills and valleys of north-central Jordan. As a westerner visiting the Middle East for the first time, I picked up on a rhythm of life that just doesn’t seem to exist in the States.

What seemed at first to be chaos – horns chirping, buildings overlapping buildings, brassy vocal exchanges, and no evident structure – was actually quite the opposite. Maybe it was the honesty of interaction, or maybe it was the fact that I had just arrived at a location that simply doesn’t follow the same constructs as I’ve grown accustomed to. Either way, everything seemed to be flowing on a logical current of which descriptions are quite difficult to bring to shape. Ordered disorder, self-organization upon necessity, beauty in simplicity begins to classify the impressions that this city left upon me.

Architecture that Lives

…But let me take you on a side journey up highway 15 from Amman. Somewhere between East and West exists a city of vitality.

In this city, there are no borders, but barbed wire signifies the perimeter. Over 80,000 souls reside in this city and under every roof exists a story of survival, of perseverance, and of hope for a better tomorrow. The children that grow up here may not know where they came from, but they will be free. Welcome to the city that should never have to exist – Al Za’atari Refugee Camp.

As a member of MUHabitat, (a studio initiative within Miami University that seeks to provide design solutions for those who need it most), I journeyed alongside a few other members to the site. A core value rooted in the foundation of this effort is participatory input. While the first year of this effort relied solely on media exchange (Skype, Facebook, and email), there is an ever-present need for a designer to show up on site, look the end-user in the eye, and let them know that their best interest is in mind. Though participatory design has always been part of the process, there must be trust and honesty to build. The mission of this trip was to gather design feedback from members of the community. Everyone from young children to the elderly suggested ideas ranging from playground equipment and soccer fields, to community gathering spaces and dwelling unit modifications. There is no shortage of creativity or innovation within these barbed wires – it is merely the scarcity of resources that prevent it from growing into another Jordanian city.

What we gathered from these discussions were fantastic. Obviously, there was the raw data which included the needs and possible ideas, but the magic was in the collaboration and the light in the eyes of those who haven’t been able to have influence in their environment in quite a while, other than to flee from persecution.

Architecture that Lives

One afternoon while discussing the outlook of our project with a group of resident artists, we were invited by one of the elder artists to visit their home. This man, a friend from very early on in the project, suggested that we meet his family and stay for conversation – a kind gesture and surely an experience that I’ll never forget. As we sat down for coffee (as is customary for any guest), I realized that the space in which I was sitting would be remembered as the most important space that I’d visit throughout my month-long journey. Here I was, one of maybe a handful of westerners within a camp of over 80,000 Syrian refugees – I was the outsider. It doesn’t take much to describe the underlying tension between the U.S. and Syrian civilians, especially after the results of the recent election. But instead of being treated differently or hassled as a foreigner, I was treated with dignity and respect.

There simply is no section view of the cordial act of being welcomed into someone’s home and treated as an equal. A few days later, while conducting a design charrette with a group of children from this refugee city, one of them asked the simple question of “when will you be back?” “I will be back soon” was the answer that I gave. I intend to fulfill the honesty in which I said those words.

This trip left an impression on me that cannot be taken away or un-learned. Architecture from now on will have new meaning along with what the ideal “building” is. During this trip, I realized the true power of architecture and the extents in which the impact can be spread. Described poetically and quoting Nobel Peace Prize laureate, Robert Zimmerman,

“I’m living in a foreign country but I’m bound to cross the line Beauty walks a razor’s edge someday I’ll make it mine If I could turn back the clock to when God and her were born ‘Come in,’ she said, I’ll give you shelter from the storm.”

4.

Back to Building Architecture, in the most primal rendering of the idea, is the mediator between human and the elements of nature. Architects, almost instinctively, cite nature as design inspiration. This often leads to an abstraction of forms found in nature; molded and contorted by program and vanity. However, the best formal interpreter of nature in my opinion, Frei Otto, admits “I try to understand nature, although I have come to realize that it is not likely that nature can be understood by a creature that is itself a product of nature.” 1Architects have over the years, begun to separate the human from nature, maintaining a theoretical congruence with, but forgetting the relationship between humans and other humans. Buildings ought to be considered as extensions of the human experience and inherently natural throughout.

However, it is much more than just buildings, in the merely physical definition of the term. In Mass Design Group’s recent manifesto entitled The New Empowerment 3, they outline architecture as “…a physical manifestation of the power relationships in our world” and that it “reveals the political, economic, and cultural priorities of those who have the privilege to build.” And they go on to declare “...Whether we acknowledge it or not, architects have power, too”. Through this lens, and knowing the community building processes they have employed around the globe, the noun (building) is used as a verb. The power endowed to architects goes far beyond the production of a product or object. Architects have the ability to transform communities, rebuild social fabric, and empower the people. Architecture should not be seen as the new shiny corporate headquarters, but instead as a vessel in which you begin to understand and relate to your fellow humans. Architects are meant to build and strengthen the ties that make us human.

Though I disagree with the divisive act of separating generations by branding and flimsy associations, I write this as a voice within the generation that has been labelled as “millennials”. Many of my peers have begun to question power structures and outdated models of the past and instead create our own versions of reality – our future will be built, not constructed.

We are in the year 2017; and as I write this, for anyone with a conscience, it has been a year of tragedy. For others, it has been a year of mindless distraction. For those who are yet to wake up to reality, we are ready to build, but don’t expect us to wait up. For those that have already awoken, we will continue to build our best version of reality that we can. Again quoting Nobel Laureate, Bob Dylan,

“He not busy being born, is busy dying”

To the leaders that taught me to think inside and outside of the box…and more importantly, who is affected by the existence of the box: Proffessor Murali Paranandi, Proffessor Diane Fellows, Proffessor J.E. Elliott , and all others within the Miami University Dept. of Architecture and Interior design.

To the Lyceum Organization: None of this would have been possible without your help. I cannot thank you enough for this experience of a lifetime To my father who helped edit this paper and taught me at an early age... to say more - with less.

Thank you.

Notes: 1.

Meissner, Irene, et al. Frei Otto: forschen, bauen, inspirieren = a life of research, construction and inspiration. München, Detail, Institut für internationale Architektur-Dokumentation GmbH & Co. KG, 2015.

2.

“Population stands at around 9.5 million, including 2.9 million guests.” Jordan Times, 30 Jan. 2016, www.jordantimes.com/news/local/population-stands-around-95-million-including-29-million-guests. Accessed 30 Aug. 2017.

3.

“Architectmagazine.com.” Architectmagazine.com, www.architectmagazine.com/design/ the-new-empowerment_o. Accessed 30 Aug. 2017.

4. Buildings constructed by Building Peace Foundation. Painted by Za’atari resident artists.