Exploring form, function, and especially symbolism from the observer’s POV rather than the architect’s, unlocks myriad existential possibilities; the architect just one existence in billions caught in freeze-frame infinite time. Serious criticism requires observer-facing analysis as people “...can never…experience form without deriving meaning from it” (Scully 123).
A Distinction without a Difference—“Formtion” and Monumental Myopia
Of form, function and symbolism, the form v. function dialectic creates a synthesis (the two become one) best described as “formtion.” Louis Sullivan said that “form follows function,” a truism for every conceptualization (foresight), but once concretized (hindsight), form is function; it morphs into a “living” thing or “phenomenon” (Greek for “that which reveals itself” through “experience”). (Barrett 213, 214). As Kierkegaard said, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Too bad Kierkegaard wasn’t an architect, he understood life forwards.
Guided by hindsight, one could even say that “function follows form” as in the case of adaptive reuse projects… today’s urban modernities are tomorrow’s ancient ruins. Even the great Louis Sullivan’s conceptualizations couldn’t anticipate unforeseeable consequences, nor could Gustave Eiffel conceptualize a radio tower, nor could the architect of an over-the-top bell tower, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, anticipate a functional platform for Galileo’s gravitational experiments or its later symbolism of both gravity and subjacent subsidence (we will explore symbolism next).
In arguing for the reconstruction of an English Parliamentary “isle” which would have to be “crossed” in order to vote with the opposing party, Winston Churchill said “We shape our buildings, and afterwards our buildings shape us” (Roth 58). Who knows if the original designer ever intended for “isle crossing?” As Vincent Scully says, “[constructions] always exceed the intentions of their makers” (Scully 155).
The gold standard for monumental myopia (function following form) is the great visionary Minoru Yamasaki (1912-1986) whose embarrassing erections include both the World Trade Center and the Pruitt-Igoe Public Housing. Would you let him design a doghouse for your Fifi? Yamasaki is now one with his creations — symbolic dust — but his namesake firm abides. In a stunning display of hubristic detachment, their website proudly displays the World Trade Center in its portfolio, but be careful, this artsy, graphics-driven site might “crash” your machine. At first I thought the site was a parody; you can’t make this stuff up!
To summarize, architects: 1) design without hindsight, 2) lack Nostradamian foresight, 3) are sometimes incompetent or greedy, and 4) are often hamstrung by client parsimony. “Architecture is … the creation of environment” (Conti preface) which is subjectively interpreted over generations. Therefore, inquiry and analysis must be observer-facing as the observer phenomenologically experiences a kaleidoscope of simultaneous form and function just as simultaneity is similarly experienced gastro-intestinally. Eating an omelet with two “Cuisinarted” ingredients, egg and chicken, provides a fulfilling experience, perhaps sublime—but bifurcate the ingredients instead of just eating them—you fall down the rabbit hole, lose the sublime, and gain an unfulfilling experience, the cerebral conundrum of which came first, the chicken or the egg? To experience the omelet, you have to eat it, not dissect it. Embrace “formtion.” Bon appetite!
The Myth of Purely Symbolic, Non-“Formtional” Architecture
Are all formtions symbolic and do all symbols have formtion? This second question, “do all symbols have formtion” is easily answered. All physical symbols have formtion or they wouldn’t be symbols (symbolism requires both form and function).
The next inquiry asks whether we ought to attribute formtion to highly symbolic structures that lack physical utility, e.g., monuments and memorials. With human activity driven by symbols, feelings, and Jungian archetypes, a narrow interpretation of formtion would exclude what is often considered the essence of being human. Why study the external physical building blocks of structures, but ignore the internal emotional building blocks of our existence? Even the least “functional” highly-symbolic form has, in a very real psychological sense, function. Does it provide shelter? No. But does it manipulate the observer’s psyche? Yes. Just look at post-mastaba funerary architecture. Of what practical physical (worldly) purpose are its formtions?
The Myth of Purely Functional, Non-Symbolic Architecture
People live life though their emotions, absorbing life-and-death stimuli viscerally. While externally we project mostly our intellect, internally we are emotionally-driven beings. Therefore, I would submit that non-symbolic activity exists solely between inanimate objects. Symbolism permeates our existence — igloos and Terra Amata to Hagia Sophia and Chartres — all “installation art.” Even the mere height of a structure makes a symbolic statement. “You can tell what’s informing a society by what the tallest building is” (Campbell 118).
Take the “purely functional,” non-symbolic igloo, for example. Does it make an intentional, symbolic statement? We really don’t know. But does it make a deep symbolic impression? You bet! Scale, location, orientation, thickness, foundation, height, width, pattern, repetition, texture, durability, and workmanship all make a statement to, and subconscious impression on, visitor and inhabitant alike. Also consider Terra Amata, the oldest known stick-built shelter and, if you look closely, the first primitive non-load bearing pointed arch/vault. It speaks volumes. Our Homo erectus “nest builder” may not have intended symbolism, but like the Western (Australia) Bowerbird, he most likely constructed superior, dwellings which, in and of themselves, are symbolic.
Just how different are the two nest builders, Homo erectus and our avian architect? Their respective ability to mate depends on their ability to construct symbolic structures. Here’s the Western Bowerbird’s Terra Amata: “…a strange two-walled construction of twigs. This is not a nest; it's an art gallery, or perhaps a treasury. And these are the jewels that it's been built to show off, bones, snail shells, pebbles. And they have one thing in common. They're all white because the artist that built this has a passion for white” (Flying Casanovas at PBS.org).
If the Bowerbird fails to impress the female, she takes flight. The symbolism is clear: superior nest/symbolic constructions, including ornamentation, provide procreative opportunities spawning prodigious progeny of future “architects” endowed with hereditarily superior constructions. Or not! Homo erectus went extinct, presumably victim of genocidal homocentric Homo sapiens who misappropriated symbolism as an invention of their own. And what of our Western Bowerbird? Too much ornamentation did not serve them well either; the species recently joined the tree kangaroo on the Australian endangered species list.
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