More than Bread and Circuses

Sorry, no pictures today!

Architecture, we supposed, is concerned with three things: durability, utility, and beauty. It's fairly simple to talk from a subjective view about the beauty of a building; there's a lot to it that can be spoken objectively, yes, but ultimately that judgment comes down to a person's opinion. Durability, too, is relatively simple to talk about; does the building collapse upon itself? If not, it's probably pretty good. Utility, on the other hand, is a little trickier.

Really, this is kind of strange, if you think about it on the surface level. By definition, a building's entire purpose of existence should be for its utility! Durability is critically important, of course, but thinking in the short term an unscrupulous architect might not concern themselves too much with that. Beauty, too, is important but can, in a pinch, be laid aside. Just look at Soviet-era construction. Those buildings were, on the whole, hideous. They were largely ugly on an existential level; just being in eyesight of them makes me less happy, but they still stand, and are still in use in places.

But, the trick is, the building's utility is not necessarily obvious from its appearance. We have some conventions and styles that are obvious, like the idea of a dome to bring people together, but others are less so, like the atriums I discussed in Beckman Institute. And even those had clearer intentions than something like the bridges in TBH. And, even then, these are simply the utility of the floor plans. So much more goes into helping a building to accomplish its many goals.

For one, people like to be warm, but not too warm. So, we have a system of heaters on the windows to keep the cold from getting too far into the building, and a series of pipes to feed into heaters or to help cool the air in individual rooms. The air is cycled through the building, so it doesn't feel stale to the people inside. Water is drained off the roof so it doesn't cave in. There's a system in place in TBH just so people can easily change the light bulbs above the giant atrium!

For a building to successfully have built up its utility, ideally what people will notice is that everything is how they expect it to be or want it to be. Or, alternatively, they do not notice that anything is wrong. The building's greatest achievements could go entirely unnoticed by its patrons by design. There's more to architecture than just making pretty things that are large enough to walk through. It's that, sure, but it's also the composition of so many invisible things that make the building actually usable. A tree fort can be a very delightful thing to look at on its own, but it becomes a true feat of architecture when you somehow manage to rig it so that it supplies more than just shelter and rustic charm.