Daily my social feed bombards me with thousands of images of architectural delight. Buildings portrayed as unique snowflakes or gems that seem to self generate in their thousands. This volcanic plume of the hottest trends , the lava flows of the latest aesthetic. So volumous we cannot contain them in stylistic boxes anymore. We simply settle on the label of modern contemporary.
No this is not a manifesto calling for the abolishment of the modern contemporary pointing to the next savior "ism". It is a series of questions firstly directed inward:
What am I to do as the young architect faced with this tsunami ?
How will my voice be heard in this storm?
How many milliseconds before my mark on this world is irrelevant?
My masterpiece worked and reworked, iterated in blood sweat and tears, lost sleep and years all forgotten in a swipe down the screen.
No , this wont be my way. My buildings will not be the sparkle. They wont be the bell of the ball for their half second in the limelight.
My work will be silent , silence in a world of noise. My work will be honest and raw. It will be utilitarian , for utility is timeless. It will be well hidden. It will blend it into the site or be overgrown in vegetation.
My method will be subtraction.
My buildings will open onto courtyards and terraces hidden from the street. Places of contemplation where you walk slowly bare feet.
Privacy will valued over pseudo-openness. No glass for glass sake - Pretence sold separately.
My designs will age and weather and feel worn in . And at the end of it time will make the most intriguing of ruins.....