If I asked you to describe what architecture is. What would you say?
Would you launch into a diatribe about space and function and economy? Would you mention light? Texture, materials? Construction? Commodity? Emotion? Is architecture about creativity? Is it about individual expression? Is it about design? Passion? Is it an art?
But maybe not.
When I was 21, one of my professors described architecture as a dialogue, with each individual structure lending its voice and its point of view to the overall conversation of the city. Each building is an individual expression of an artist until it’s released into the fabric of the community, then the community responds to this with another point, and a counterpoint, and a contradiction.
Individually, each architect marks his place in form, and idea.
Each architect marks his place in time.
And then the city responds, quietly.
Someone else chimes in, in built form.
And then another.
So, the dialogue continues.
At some point I started to imagine my buildings whispering into the ears of my future.
photos are from Zach K’s photostream on flickr (used under creative commons license)