I have lived in Las Vegas for 20 years. The city exists outside of the anomaly known as the Las Vegas Strip in Paradise, Nevada, where the incredible brand of "Vegas" provides a place for anonymous amorality. The Las Vegas I have grown up in, however, is one of quickly erected strip malls, storage facilities, and suburban neighborhoods with Spanish tiles ad infinitum. I have written about how the banal surroundings lack inspiration and creative vision. Those who want to improve the quality of the built environment come as often as flowers in Death Valley. It took a visit to Rome, Florence, and Athens to widen my spatial cognizance. If it weren't for that trip, I probably would have majored in art and found myself either unemployed or working in a completely unrelated field following graduation.
Learning from Las Vegas by Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown is typically the first book an architecture student reaches for when trying to learn about this city. The book teaches the implications of low-budget casino design in relation to American architecture in the late 1960s. However, the book has become irrelevant in the present age. Daniel Libeskind's design for the Crystals mall may be known as the finishing act for the resurrection of the duck (building-as-ornament). What publication accurately portrays Las Vegas as it is today? I recommend Urbanizing the Mojave Desert: Las Vegas by Nicole Huber and Ralph Stern. The photos alone are worth a look.
The perception of Las Vegas as a horizontal city has not been acknowledged by most architecture students. Some friends and I changed this in an AIAS West Quad conference in the spring of 2009. The conference took place in the downtown Fremont St. area. Here lies signage from the golden age of drive-by motels; restored to stimulate collective memory. In front of some bars and galleries one finds the unthinkable: pedestrianism. We showed them this in lieu of lectures from local architects, Dr. Libby Lumpkin, and Mayor Oscar Goodman. If these future practitioners have learned that there is more to Las Vegas than the Strip, the conference was a success.
Will I return to practice here after graduate school? It's possible but unlikely. I've spent my youth in a car long enough.
1.31.2010
1.21.2010
Messages
When Daniel Libeskind designed the Jewish Museum Berlin for a competition in 1988, he called it "Between the Lines." In the book Daniel Libeskind and the Contemporary Jewish Museum, he writes, "It is about two lines of thinking, organization, and relationship. One is a straight line, broken into many fragments, the other a tortuous line, continuing indefinitely." He then discusses the relationship between the figures of Germans and the figures of Jews. This concept carries the weight of Daniel's tragic loss of most of his family to the Holocaust. I have not visited this building, though I hear it is powerful.
After reading Libeskind's description, I stared at the plan and saw something different. The straight line became an individual's direction towards the achievement of a goal. The convoluted line became the path one must take to reach the goal. I wonder if it is wrong to interpret a building differently than what it was designed to convey. Popular artists and musicians often keep their message simple to attract the broadest audience. This allows the audience to relate to the work or song in their own personal way. I see beauty in his definition and my own.
In the DVD commentary of Æon Flux, director Peter Chung repeatedly states he intends the viewer to interpret the episodes in his or her own way. Each episode is thought-provoking and filled with bizarre messages, giving an audience the opportunity to discuss what they saw. The reaction and discussion increases the show's value. An architect should be aware that architecture provokes people in personal and unique ways. Good ideas are not static.
1.06.2010
Life Motto
It is not the critic that counts,
nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs and comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasms, great devotions;
who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
- Theodore Roosevelt
nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who strives valiantly;
who errs and comes short again and again;
who knows great enthusiasms, great devotions;
who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement,
who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly,
so that his place shall never be with those timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
- Theodore Roosevelt
12.17.2009
Internal Dialogue
I've realized something that I have never considered prior to graduation. Taking one year off is not enough time for artistic and architectural addendum. Instead of working on competitions, art, or reading, I've strictly dedicated the majority of my free time to the graduate school admissions process. I should be able to return to creative practices after applying, however, I'll need to attend a calculus class as a graduate school prerequisite. My final portfolio is not bad; it's the best I could have done given the time. However, the biggest criticism with my undergraduate work is that it lacks comprehensiveness and completeness--focusing too much on graphics and not enough on substance. Going back to previous projects can be frustrating when time is of the essence.
While half of my consciousness is concerned with the prior paragraph, I know that taking a year off was the best decision I could have made at the time. While two years off would have been additional time to create a stronger portfolio, receive a higher GRE score, and earn more money to avoid student debt, the biggest reason for not taking two years off is that I cannot stand living in Las Vegas for more than another year. Working full-time is rewarding but repetitive. Knowing my laziness, I probably would have done absolutely nothing for the first year and find myself in the same situation in the second year. Despite taking a year off, I'll be one of the younger students returning to school. The average age of a graduate student is 25/26. What takes them so long?
While half of my consciousness is concerned with the prior paragraph, I know that taking a year off was the best decision I could have made at the time. While two years off would have been additional time to create a stronger portfolio, receive a higher GRE score, and earn more money to avoid student debt, the biggest reason for not taking two years off is that I cannot stand living in Las Vegas for more than another year. Working full-time is rewarding but repetitive. Knowing my laziness, I probably would have done absolutely nothing for the first year and find myself in the same situation in the second year. Despite taking a year off, I'll be one of the younger students returning to school. The average age of a graduate student is 25/26. What takes them so long?
12.01.2009
Truth
Dr. Robert Tracy was the first person to formally tell me I was accepted to the UNLV School of Architecture. I was still a senior in high school. He explained about the classes I had to take before applying to third year, specifically citing the difficulty of Dr. White's history classes. At the end of the meeting we shook hands and he said "Welcome to the school."
To me, the title of "The School" elated the program to some sort of mythical stature like the School of Athens. Clueless to what lied ahead, I wanted to live up to that concept and came prepared that fall ready to work. During the first several months, however, I noticed the other students were unsure of their motives for pursuing architecture. Why they chose to be in architecture, much less college, baffled me. After many students dropped out, I did end up meeting a few students who shared a similar enthusiasm, but even the few of us rarely debated or discussed architecture. We just accepted Dr. White's lectures as truth and moved on.
Several weeks ago, I found myself walking through the trays of Paul Rudolph Hall. It was the night before a pin-up and the room was filled with students pounding away on their keyboards. Almost all wore headphones. Almost none talked. I've never seen such focus, discipline, and silence. I've never FELT selfless dedication from another individual's presence before. "This is it." I thought. "THIS is 'The School.'"
Now, if I get accepted to some of the so-called top schools, I want to think that the real learning begins. It is only logical because growth occurs when one surrounds themself with inspiration. But wait...Last year I shared that very same fascination with Torino--believing it was some sort of romantic escape. Torino became an emotional concept rather than a physical place. After living there for four months, it only turned out to be a different lifestyle. Better than America in some ways, worse in others. Now I'm starting to think that if I attend these programs, the romantic glory of 'The School' won't be found there either because it's an imaginary idea.
I wonder if I'll ever stop putting what I don't have on a pedestal.
To me, the title of "The School" elated the program to some sort of mythical stature like the School of Athens. Clueless to what lied ahead, I wanted to live up to that concept and came prepared that fall ready to work. During the first several months, however, I noticed the other students were unsure of their motives for pursuing architecture. Why they chose to be in architecture, much less college, baffled me. After many students dropped out, I did end up meeting a few students who shared a similar enthusiasm, but even the few of us rarely debated or discussed architecture. We just accepted Dr. White's lectures as truth and moved on.
Several weeks ago, I found myself walking through the trays of Paul Rudolph Hall. It was the night before a pin-up and the room was filled with students pounding away on their keyboards. Almost all wore headphones. Almost none talked. I've never seen such focus, discipline, and silence. I've never FELT selfless dedication from another individual's presence before. "This is it." I thought. "THIS is 'The School.'"
Now, if I get accepted to some of the so-called top schools, I want to think that the real learning begins. It is only logical because growth occurs when one surrounds themself with inspiration. But wait...Last year I shared that very same fascination with Torino--believing it was some sort of romantic escape. Torino became an emotional concept rather than a physical place. After living there for four months, it only turned out to be a different lifestyle. Better than America in some ways, worse in others. Now I'm starting to think that if I attend these programs, the romantic glory of 'The School' won't be found there either because it's an imaginary idea.
I wonder if I'll ever stop putting what I don't have on a pedestal.
11.13.2009
Criticism of Consumerism, Playing Long-Term
We live in an era of easily accessible information. Addicted to new stimuli, we expect new movies, sports events, and television dramas to distract us from living a banal existence. In addition, as a result of advertising, it has become considerably difficult to block out unnecessary information. We are told that buying things will lead to happiness. No one is telling you that happiness comes from self-esteem.
There are so many tasks worth engaging outside of the media. Traveling, for example, can force you to engage the physical environment at its uninterrupted glory. Reading allows you to specifically focus on a single task rather than juggling facebook walls and celebrity tabloid websites. Attending community events can help you network while you serve the greater whole.
In architecture, participation must be considered carefully and critically. In a past interview with Steven Holl, Charlie Rose began by complimenting his recent works, praising the construction of the Nelson Atkins Museum. "The interesting part is that the projects were designed 7 years ago," said Holl, "In a way it's like rowing a boat: you're going forward facing the past." He's right--architects play for the long-term. Like fashion, the public slowly finds themselves catching up to the ideas thought of years ago. Like Holl, I prefer to sit back and meditate on my actions rather than mercilessly push onward.
There are so many tasks worth engaging outside of the media. Traveling, for example, can force you to engage the physical environment at its uninterrupted glory. Reading allows you to specifically focus on a single task rather than juggling facebook walls and celebrity tabloid websites. Attending community events can help you network while you serve the greater whole.
In architecture, participation must be considered carefully and critically. In a past interview with Steven Holl, Charlie Rose began by complimenting his recent works, praising the construction of the Nelson Atkins Museum. "The interesting part is that the projects were designed 7 years ago," said Holl, "In a way it's like rowing a boat: you're going forward facing the past." He's right--architects play for the long-term. Like fashion, the public slowly finds themselves catching up to the ideas thought of years ago. Like Holl, I prefer to sit back and meditate on my actions rather than mercilessly push onward.
10.18.2009
9.16.2009
Transcending the Idea
This Eisenmen interview relates to my first post. Writing and publishing your ideas can transcend an esoteric expression into a tangible manifestation of your methodology. At one point he mentions that there is no such thing as paper architecture; architecture is about ideas: paper or built. As a theorist, Eisenmen defends his lack of built architecture by using writing as a means to contribute to culture. The book, the building, the art piece...each are all potential artifacts which express an idea. Although ideas die inside the artist, their physical manifestations prominently remain. Without the act of creation, there can be no cultural progression.
So let's say you create a piece of art, write an essay, or design a building. Even IF you make it that far, the act of creation is merely the first step. For the object to mean anything, it must provoke. It must then surmount all obstacles to become known by the public. If eventually, you make it past that point, you may become one of the select few in history who trigger a transformation in culture.
So let's say you create a piece of art, write an essay, or design a building. Even IF you make it that far, the act of creation is merely the first step. For the object to mean anything, it must provoke. It must then surmount all obstacles to become known by the public. If eventually, you make it past that point, you may become one of the select few in history who trigger a transformation in culture.
9.05.2009
Death and Memory
How have we become so fascinated with death? The recent news concerning the death of Ted Kennedy, Michael Jackson, DJ AM, or Heath Ledger contains the grandiose tale of their individual contributions. It is true that death is the closing chapter to one's life, allowing one's life story to finally be explained in it's entirety. It is, however, simply a chapter. Unlike Hollywood cinema, the goal is not to reach a resolution, but to enjoy the experience in its entirety.
Life has become a battleground for memory preservation. Like Achilles in the Iliad, we hope our fame will be sung upon the lips of future generations. We live in a time unique to the distant past: when individual significance was once only achieved by inheriting power, modern day immortality is now achieved by cultural contributions. Power and money no longer share any direct relevancies to one's individual value. There has never been a better time to create yourself.
Collective memory is also what grants cities to have cultural spaces. When a place has had enough time to allow significant events to occur, memories can be openly reflected upon, thus increasing the value of a place. A city such as Las Vegas can dress itself up as if it's been around for centuries, but it can only achieve great cultural value with the longevity of its urban artifacts.
Architects should strive to create buildings that foster collective memory. This is what Aldo Rossi defines as locus.
Life has become a battleground for memory preservation. Like Achilles in the Iliad, we hope our fame will be sung upon the lips of future generations. We live in a time unique to the distant past: when individual significance was once only achieved by inheriting power, modern day immortality is now achieved by cultural contributions. Power and money no longer share any direct relevancies to one's individual value. There has never been a better time to create yourself.
Collective memory is also what grants cities to have cultural spaces. When a place has had enough time to allow significant events to occur, memories can be openly reflected upon, thus increasing the value of a place. A city such as Las Vegas can dress itself up as if it's been around for centuries, but it can only achieve great cultural value with the longevity of its urban artifacts.
Architects should strive to create buildings that foster collective memory. This is what Aldo Rossi defines as locus.
8.30.2009
The Paradox of Time in our History
Found a quote on a girl's blog. It's long, but it made sense once you read it in it's entirety. So resist the urge to skip ahead and read this.
If you're a musician, you can wear whatever the hell you want and it always looks cool.
If you're a musician, you can wear whatever the hell you want and it always looks cool.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Subscribe To Wavyhair
Posts
All Comments
