A Tale of Two Architects - Part 2

Scene 3: The Dream

Drowsy from the Mediterranean heat, with not enough sleep and some more wine, each of our heroes begins a gentle decent into a deep dream. The fixed realities of the world around are about to succumb to their prayers. First one, and then the other, arrive in a strange new place.

Their table lengthens and, quite suddenly, there appears an impressive cadre of venerable architects from the future, along with some from the past. They’re dreaming too, and equally surprised to be together, and their attention focused, as if there’s some sort of mandate, on these younger architects. This never-before-assembled dream constellation has come to bring their wisdom to I+K. They’re also wishing this dream, this magical moment, had come to them when things were bumpy in their own work.

Imhotep, that architect from ancient Egypt, arriving through the mists of time, is seated prominently at one end. Louis Kahn, an American architect, occupies the other. Both Imhotep’s and Kahn’s devotion is for the eternal, making architecture that embodies the culture of one place, one age, and yet, in their hands, resonates far beyond their own time.

Seated between them, every major architectural idea and strategy from around the world is represented by its greatest master, from Vitruvius of Rome to Gaudi of Catalan, from Visvakarman of India to Brunelleschi of Tuscany, from Adjaye of Tanzania to Frank Lloyd Wright of the United States and Zaha Hadid of Baghdad. These are the Venerables.

They are somehow aware that they have a common mission and need a way to proceed. First, the Venerables agree to jettison the unique views and passions of their own times in favor of the broadest, most powerful underpinnings of all architecture, from and for all the ages. They have always worked with a non-negotiable belief, that every great building rests on those deeper principles.

Scene 4:  Parados, The Chorus Speaks in the Dream

In unison, the Venerables sing: “Your answers will come by listening.” I and K are surprised. They thought the design would come exclusively from their inner beings. The Venerables are saying the answers can come from others? Then they begin to get the idea: the people that care most deeply about what you design may bring you the deepest, most heartfelt questions. Invite them in. Respect them by respecting their wisdom.

Start with their emotions and their aspirations. Understand how they feel when they engage with architecture. It’s there in their individual and collective gut. Your job is to reveal it, decode it, find words and images for it. All of that will turn out to be rich fodder for your own imagination. Their contributions will ignite your creativity.

The place I+K is trying to design has an objective that relates to them: it must embody their collective tone and values. They have told you they want a place that has meaning, that has a deep sense of order, a respect for intellect, and, perhaps their deepest wish, architecture that declares deep pride in their civilization.

Understand and respect that each citizen, every person you design for is your protagonist, your lead character on the stage architecture creates. Ask them the right questions and the narratives you draw from them will light the way. With your architects’ wisdom fully engaged, you can literally build on their hopes and their dreams in your own thinking. Their truth, combined with your talents, is your path to revealing the answer that seems so elusive right now. 

You’ll find, if you’ve been listening very well to the non-architektons, that they will admire and support your ideas enthusiastically, because they recognize themselves in them. They’ll feel connection and deep-seated warm and positive feelings instantly, in their guts, their hearts, and their souls. 

If something costs more, they won’t cut it – they’ll find the resources because your design is too good, too uplifting, too “right” to be compromised. If some loudmouth discontents sound objection, your supporters will gag them. They’ll fight for what they now feel they own. 

Some of the Venerables, are, by instinct and temperament good listeners. Others developed those capabilities after failures from not listening. Kahn says “I wish I had listened to my client for the Salk Institute. I would have gotten it right the first time. It cost me a fortune to redesign!”

For now, a pause: the final installment of this tale will arrive soon.

Milton