Ricochet is the best place on the internet to discuss the issues of the day, either through commenting on posts or writing your own for our active and dynamic community in a fully moderated environment. In addition, the Ricochet Audio Network offers over 50 original podcasts with new episodes released every day.
Sunday Aesthetics: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly
Consider this building–Building A, for our purposes:
And now, consider Building B:
One of the great solaces of Ricochet is that I will not have to persuade anyone here–I hope–that the second is in fact more beautiful than the first, and that to say so is to say something more interesting than, “I like the second one better, although they’re both equally beautiful because of course that’s all relative.”
Nor do I think I’ll have much difficulty in persuading people to take seriously the idea that beauty–as an objective, external reality, perhaps even a Platonic one–may well be connected, in an important way, to moral goodness. (I may have trouble convincing some people here that this is so, but I’ll bet you’ll take it seriously, as an idea.)
I have lots more about this to say, as you may have guessed. But it’s still too fuzzy. I’d like to translate my broad intuitions about this into a very defensible argument, and for that, I need a robust theory of aesthetics. To my surprise, though, I’m finding the philosophical literature less helpful than I would wish. Perhaps I’m not looking in the right places?
So: can anyone suggest interesting ways to look at the following ten questions? (I think I can handle some of them quite well, but I’ll hold fire for now.)
- Why exactly is Building B more beautiful than Building A?
- Assuming that we have good answers to question 1), do they suggest principles that may be broadly applied to all buildings?
- Assuming the answer to 2) is yes, does this suggest principles that may broadly be applied to the idea of “beauty?”
- What are your intuitions about the connection between “the beautiful” and “the morally good,” particularly in this context? And 4a): What are your arguments, as opposed to your intutions?
- What are your intuitions about what it might do to human societies, morally, if they start constructing many more things that in terms of beauty are far closer to A than to B? And 5b): See 4a.
- Looking at 5) from a different angle, what are your intuitions about what might be going on, morally, when a given society begins to think it’s a good idea to build many more A-like buildings than B-like ones?
- Can you back up those intuitions with evidence?
- What, for that matter, would constitute “evidence?”
- If your intuition or answer thus far involves, “something morally bad is probably happening when the As start vastly exceeding the Bs,” can you rule out–with sound arguments, and even better, evidence–a response such as, “the answer here is less importantly connected to beauty and goodness than it is to changes in building technology and economics?” (I mean the latter in the sense of, “It costs less to build something like A.”)
- To which philosophers–particularly those who focus on aesthetics–would you turn in thinking through this problem?
Now, some special rules. To make this more fun and challenging for James Gawson, he, in particular, is not allowed to mention this. Others are however allowed and encouraged. To make this more fun and challenging for Gödel’s Ghost–and yes he is among us, apparently–he is not allowed to mention Moles, Nake, or Schmidhumer. Others are however allowed and encouraged. To make this more fun and challenging for us all, everyone is encouraged to see whether he or she can with a straight face and in all seriousness include a genuinely useful thought from a philosopher in the school of Derrida. And to make everyone stop laughing themselves half to death once they’ve tried that, I suggest a quick review of Vitruvius. That will sober you up right fast.
Published in General
I am not qualified, unless one somehow considers and art appreciation course and Architecture 101 to be qualifiers, but to me, the first building overfills the space, and this offends my senses, and the second, designed with I am sure application of the golden mean, calms and entices my senses. Thus I like B better than A, as I suppose do most.
On an economic front, building A is a way to put a larger building onto a smaller footprint, e.g. expensive urban real estate. The problem is then, that it results in blocking too much light and views for persons not looking out from it. This inverted structure looks like it is trying to bore into the ground and hide, rather than ascend into the sky and shout “We are here”.
I think building B is better because I like it more!
That’s spooky. It’s like you read my mind or something. :)
You see? You look at it long enough and it does something pernicious to your brain.
I just remember that which it replaced.
A little on the florid side perhaps, and the signage on the roof was a bad idea, but when you see it you think “courthouse,” not “Seven/Eleven World Headquarters.”
Well…I have only a few minutes before I head off to my classroom.
I think the problem is that building A treats people as movable commodities. Objects to be stuffed into spaces and likely highly interchangeable. It reminds me of the pigeon holes on old roll-top desks. Its design places them in unrelated spaces, due to the somewhat asymmetrical relationship of the building, and one that likely gives them a false sense of space through the use of the balconies.
Building B with it’s larger (presumably) living spaces and use of windows gives them a wider view of the world, even if it doesn’t give them the false sense of privacy. At the same time, the larger entrance and likely common staircase of building B probably allows for a more communal shared common area than building A which would require many smaller and isolated hallways and a lack of common spaces since the interior is probably prioritized to get people to their apartments. There is also a lack of breathable space in the design of A, while I am not particularly impressed with building B, I do prefer it to building A.
Building B also prioritizes clear lines, symmetry, and the use of natural materials that still bear the stamp of their natural origins, but also the hand of man to rationalize them in a way that is not, unhuman. It is that marriage of the natural and the human in B that makes it more attractive, even though I think it is a second or third rate structure of its kind. Also there is an attempt at beauty at each level, for each component and at stage of the structure, which is not present in A. There is also a breadth of space.
To relate the two, A is dark, cramped, and cave-like, even though it features a solid wall of windows, because they are dark themselves in a way the rusted shutters of B are not.
Also, there is a certain atomization in A that B lacks, now B is divided into floors, rooms, etc., and presumably into varying, though rather alike living spaces, why does it not do the same thing as A to my mind, and am I merely reading into A that which I wish to without any argument or evidence?
That I really don’t have time to explore at the moment but will later today if someone else hasn’t beat me to it, and done a better job of it.
One other thought, I suspect building B places a priority on living spaces for a family over A, in the sense that A is designed to house a much smaller family unit, and/or the individual without relation to the other dwellers in the structure. Whereas B, likely saw either multiple related families, or families and/or servants living together in relationship to one another, even if individually distinct units. Also building B feels like it in relationship to the other structures of it’s neighborhood and therefore in a dialogue and a relationship with the historic and continuity of the space, whereas B feels imposed on the space.
If that is more than a mere impression, and due to the fact that B may have been imposed on a previous neighborhood, and that A may be in fact part of a pattern and trend within its own, that may be a completely false idea. However, if true, it signals that designers, builders, and/or planners of the space see human beings – as reflected in their dwellings – as part of the continuity of time and space, and therefore in need of a wider set of relationships besides their own autonomy and merely physical needs, but rather as seeing the architecture of their dwelling space as part of a spiritual component of their lives and not merely as “housing.” That their living space is a link to their wider world and community and a way of bringing them within a place and connecting them to it. Hence the importance of historic revivalism in the 19th century when society was rapidly changing, it was a source of continuity that they prized in their architecture that is lacking in later periods where discontinuity with the past seemed to be the goal. It says, in building B, while we may have demolished an older Parisian neighborhood to make way for this new building, we see it as still part of a continuity with our past in Paris and in France, we invest this structure with elements of the past to show that while we have modern needs, as families in discrete units (apartments), and older buildings were inadequate to the task of supplying comfortable and sanitary housing, we wish to continue to relate to our shared past as a city, even if this building is fulfilling a commercial purpose.
Building A, says, get the past out of my way, modern people do not need such connections, they need privacy and space, and a sense of autonomy, so we will building something that fulfills a need yes, but at the same time will break with the past, because we do not need it (whether or not that is passive or aggressive in the dismissal, I can not divine from the building), but we have other priorities. Likewise the previous emphasis on open space, height, breadth, and architectural common places are restraining, and we can surmount them by providing efficient housing with no reference to them. There is a possibility, that we see them as ultimately unfair elements, wasteful because only those with the money and space could afford them, and we would rather show that people do not need them, and we reject them as concepts, because all can not have them, none should.
These are my random thoughts, and are largely liable to a hefty debunking, and they lack credible rational argument, but there they are.
Now, I must go before I’m late.
I think you like it more because it’s better.
Random they may be, and perhaps not so fully developed as to be unassailable, but they do not lack credible, rational argument. Very much appreciated your taking the time to share them; they’ve given me good ideas with which to work. Thank you.
Midge, that reminds me immediately of First Baptist in my hometown, Columbus, Indiana:
Which is deliberately modeled after various early churches in the Middle East.
Do I understand correctly? Someone tore down the second to replace it with the first?
Surely I am not the only one to think that when people start thinking that this is a perfectly sensible thing to do, it should be treated as an important and disturbing symptom? No, I don’t yet know “of what,” but I really don’t think it makes sense to say, “Nah, doesn’t mean much, we just stopped wanting to be surrounded by pleasantness and decided, “Oh, ugliness’s no big deal.” I mean, if we weren’t very used to the fact that this happened, we would find this amazing, and future historians will: Suddenly we’re got the emergence of an unvoiced but collective decision to make ugly the spaces we share and in which we live. You would almost think that against some kind of biological law, wouldn’t you? Would you do it in your own home–deliberately toss out the furniture and paintings that are soothing and pleasing and replace them with things that are as ugly as possible? Would you douse your well-tended garden with herbicide so that looked “functional” and “unornamented?” Would you go out and choose your clothes on the grounds that they were depressing, unflattering, and didn’t fit you well?
I mean–this is strange, is it not?
It may be worth pointing out (since the first comment is about my hometown) that virtually al of Columbus, Indiana’s famous architecture was privately subsidized. It breaks me up more than a little to read about that ending.
Here’s more of Columbus’ architecture, which I hope some enjoy.
You are correct, Claire. The latter stood where the former squats.
Yes, Claire, I meant state funded. My comment was rather terse, but I’ll look into this more, too.
And…just for laughs…hardly definitive:
http://www.buzzfeed.com/bennyjohnson/the-7-most-heinously-ugly-government-buildings-in-washington
Look how the monument rises in concert with the older building and how the new belittles it.
I am late to this thread but there are a few basic principles which make B more beautiful than A:
1- A is not only tall, but top-heavy whereas B seems heavier at the bottom. European buildings from the Renaissance to the Beaux-Arts all have heavier bases and lighter upper floors. Note B’s heavy base below the first floor windows. Note also how B’s windows get smaller as you go up, to accentuate this effect.
2- A has horizontal windows, B has vertical windows. Vertical windows always win the beauty contest.
3- A is articulate, whereas B is symmetrical. Symmetry wins 9 times out of 10.
4- B has a grand entrance with a design that stretches to the second floor. Good luck finding the entrance to A.
5- The floors of B are taller, with higher ceiling. Higher ceilings always win over low ceilings. A packs as many floors as possible with small floor heights.
6- Color: B has the warm colors of stone, wood and slate. A is white and cold.
7- Light: The street next to B can be sunny. Not the one next to A. Or not often.
8- A literally looms over you threatening to crash over your head. B greets you with a nice entrance and “Sapeurs Pompiers” (Fire House) over the door.
Most modern architecture is absolutely dreadful. Compare the prewar buildings on Park Avenue in NY to postwar.
I like this one. Inviting vs imposing.
My gut says the beautiful is born of the idea of moral goodness and reflects that idea back to us.
Some time ago we rejected the idea of moral goodness and replaced it with usefulness. Buildings were built to be useful. More recently we’ve added the value of frivolity.
So now we have an idea reflected back to us that life ought to be useful and fun.
Two previous posters mentioned Roger Scruton. Here’s a link to his BBC program on the concept of beauty and how modern art has turned against beauty:
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1euvbw_bbc-why-beauty-matters-full-version-bbc-roger-scruton_tech
This broadcast includes a segment on “the greatest crime against beauty that the world has yet seen . . . the crime of modern architecture.”
A is a trick, it tries to be cute, it isn’t meant to be taken serious, it’s a trick. B is a statement of thought, an expression of design, a pointer to something classic, it’s meant to be serious. It’s hard to be beautiful when you are a trick, easier when you are thoughtful.
Again, the comments above are really useful and good. Thank you. I can’t fall into the temptation now of answering them all–what I need to do now is organize the good thoughts that came my way and the ones I may already have had. But I really want to stress how much I appreciated these ideas. (And I so wish that I could just keep talking about this with everyone, but here we come up against the Ricochet limitation: It’s great for starting a conversation and great for continuing one, but in the end, if you’re me, you have to produce something that takes a different form: something in the form of an essay, with a clear introduction, exposition, argument and conclusion; and within a word limit–and I have to do it in the next 48 hours.)
Q1 – Building B is more beautiful than Building A for several reasons. First, it’s ordered. The lines make sense. The first building is just haphazard. I’m confident that the designer of the first building had something in mind. I’m just not sure what it is. There is a symmetry to the second building that is simply non-existent in the first. Building B says “I’m here, I’m strong, deal with me.” The first building just sort of says “I’m here, but I don’t really know why, and I will probably fall over in a few minutes.”
Q2 – Yes. Buildings are meant, at their very essence, to hold, organize, protect. When you look at a building, you want to know it’s going to do that. I am sure the first building will provide an occupant with exactly what they need from it. So will the second. But the first building doesn’t look like it will.
Q3 – No. Beauty in architecture is different than beauty in, say, oil painting. Some of the principals may apply to oil painting, but they don’t necessarily have to.
Q4 – I don’t think there is necessarily a connection in all forms of beauty. But I am more inclined to find a woman beautiful if she is morally good. For example, I find Lena Dunham to be one of the ugliest women alive, primarily because I also find her behavior morally reprehensible.
Q5 – I think that’s the car before the horse. I think that as we move towards a less moral society, I think art will reflect that. But I reject the notion that oddly shaped buildings reflect morality.
Q6 – I guess it’s likely that society is becoming dissatisfied with the normal, and wants something different. Something that doesn’t fit the mold, so to speak. I don’t want a straight sidewalk, I want one that curves amongst the bushes. Perhaps society is bored? Perhaps people should spend more time in the woods, or fishing, or climbing a mountain?
Q7 – No. They are my intuitions.
Q8 – I guess one would have to talk to architects and learn why they are designing those kinds of buildings, and talk to the people paying them to do so, to learn why they paid for one design over another. And talk to people who live in those buildings and find out why they chose that building. I am sure a government study is in order.
Q9 – this page intentionally left blank
Q10 – I have no idea. I am just a regular guy, and I haven’t the foggiest idea which philosophers would shed light on these questions. I might ask Jeeves.
You need a corporate job. It’s all the continuing without any of the pesky starts and finishes.
I–again–really need to stop reading and talking and start organizing and writing, but very quickly, when I posted a link to this on Twitter, I received some very interesting replies and hints for further reading. Is there enough interest in this that anyone would like me to reproduce/summarize them here?
I would be interested.
Lest anyone get the idea that Joliet is without any sense, a few years after the courthouse fiasco, the
barbarianscity fathers had the idea to do away with the Rialto Theater. They wanted a parking garage or something.It lights up nice.
Okay, it lights up really nice.
My mom took me here to see Bambi in 1965. We got Cokes in the lobby.
That’s the lobby.
Claire,
I have been all over the place with your post. First I was overly conscientious with a full Kantian disclosure on taste. Next, I got facetious and had to make my joke. Finally, I offered up a real world zoning situation in a slightly facetious way.
None of the above were what you are looking for. I did not dislike building A because it was of the modern school. I disliked it because it was ‘bad’ modern. I referred to it as goofy modern. Building B was stately and dignified and in need of a little repair. There is not much more to be said on B.
The question that remains if building A is ‘bad’ modern what is good modern and how do you tell the difference. Bad modern is modern that really believes that human life can be reduced to just utility. That there is some science of spaces that can be determined and followed by wrote. Good modern, for which I always identify as American modern, is a yearning for the new. Not new for the sake of newness but new as in rebirth, new hope. The American dream-experience is about freedom. Even the freedom to be a little wrong. It is an innocent wrong that comes from exuberance and a love of humanity. Not a conformist non-conformist’s obsession with ideology.
I like this guy and his American International Style homes. He wasn’t trying to break the mold. America had already broken the mold and he was trying to do justice to it.
Edward Durell Stone.
I know some people who have a large home that is pure International Style. It’s incredibly beautiful. I always feel like it’s a pure American design no matter what the name suggests. Unfortunately, the home only will get a fraction of the value of more traditional European inspired designs.
Regards,
Jim
Wasn’t there a time where “state-subsidized” buildings were the epitome of beauty at the time? When state supported architecture, art, and music were the building blocks for what we deem ‘beautiful’ when looking back in history?
And so, maybe it is not so much the state subsidy that damages beauty, but what is deep within the heart of the modern state?
If the heart of the state is ‘ugly’ how can it form or support anything more than that?
Claire,
One last after thought. I gave you my interest on the International Style and Edward Durell Stone. You have got me to do a little more homework, thanks I needed that.
Kant divides the Sublime (morality subjectively perceived through formlessness) into measurable sublimity and mighty sublimity. The measurable sublime is static like a mountain range. The mighty sublime is dynamic like a railroad locomotive.
I think the International Style, at its best, invokes the feeling of a dynamic mighty force. It is the American post war force in the world for good. I can’t help myself from thinking of this every time I see this kind of architecture and get great pleasure from it because of this.
Regards,
Jim
Much depends on the context in in which buildings are designed.
Building A, for example preserves space at street level, while accommodating more people in its land footprint than a simple vertical tower. And how is the street-level space in building A used? I can’t really tell from this picture, but if it’s small shops, restaurants and pubs, the builder may have done a good job at preserving an attractive public space at street level, while still providing accommodation for large number of people.
Now look at building B. Clearly it was given an attractive design, and in its day, presumably space was not as in such high demand as it is today. But I very much doubt that anyone would rebuild it today, particularly not on the site of building A.
Finally, people, as they come to understand and appreciate the design of public structures can change their mind on what’s beautiful. The Eiffel Tower, now probably one of the most iconic and admired structures in the world was despised by its critics as a monstrosity, a desecration of Paris when it opened.
This was great. Thanks.