Analysis Of Proper Themes For Buildings.

Aesthetics
1

In The Fountainhead we learn of a man that judges buildings as he judges men: both must have integrity. Integrity for a building, to me, means the extent to which it adheres to a single theme. Here I have a question: Is function the only element that establishes a building’s proper theme?

For example, Roark built a home for his friend Austin Heller which was situated on a cliff (if I recall correctly). Now, the function of the building was “home for Austin Heller,” but I can’t say with confidence that its theme was completely determined by this function. The building itself was described as looking as though it belonged and completed the rise of the cliff (forgive me, but I don’t have a direct quote at present… help?). The theme, in this sense, seems to have been determined by the locale of the building combined with its function. Am I right in thinking that, yes, form follows function, but function isn’t what completely determines theme and thus isn’t what completely determines the form of a building? It seems to me that the theme of the Heller house was “home for Austin Heller made to look like it belongs on the cliff and completes its rise”, roughly.

On the other hand, not only did Roark take issue with buildings whose identity was not governed by a single theme, he also took issue with buildings whose themes were strictly Renaissance or Gothic etc.; i.e. themes which strictly speaking seemed to completely disregard function as a determining factor. But with regard to his Heller house, was making it look like it completed the cliff strictly a consequence of the building’s function? I would say “no”: there is nothing in the function of “home” that leads to “completing the rise of the cliff”.

In essence, it seems to me that themes are driven primarily by function but also secondarily by other factors. How, then, does one evaluate what a “good” theme is? Roark seemed to think that a theme that was driven primarily to impress, to awe, etc. was wrong. So, what is the standard of judgment for evaluating a building’s theme?

I’m not certain but I could be using “theme” and “function” incorrectly. I view “theme” to be the underlying, fundamental idea driving a building’s identity. The theme of a skyscraper, for example, could be “pride”. Pride exemplified by flaunting, not hiding, its long lines.

After chewing on this and assessing whether I’m being clear in my thoughts, I’d like to hear answers to the following: Can a building’s theme be something like “to impress upon people the importance of history”? For example, suppose I wanted to commission Roark to design a library for me, do you think he’d accept the commission if I asked him to design in such a way so as to impress upon people the importance of the contents being held in the building, the contents being the product of the greatest minds in history?

What about if I asked Roark to design a building whose theme was “the importance of the Roman Republic”? What if I felt a strong kinship with these great men and I wanted my home to exemplify this? I’m not interested in impressing anyone or awing anyone, I’m interested in metaphysically representing the kinship I feel with the great men in ancient history by coming home to such a building. Would Roark take this commission?

2

Between, “home for Austin Heller,” and “home for Austin Heller made to look like it belongs on the cliff and completes its rise”, there is probably an intermediate step. Something like: “good-looking/aesthetically-good home for Austin Heller”.

An architect must take a building’s surroundings into account. The next question would be: should it compliment its surroundings or should it be a contrast? Do I want a building to have aesthetic features that make it appear taller than it really is or ones that gives an illusion that it is not as tall as it is? Do I want to stress its solidity or make it look more delicate than it is? Do I want a house on a hill-top to disappear into the landscape or to stand out as an obviously man-made structure? I think the answer depends on the specifics of the situation: why I’m building it and what I want it to be. I can imagine good reasons (and bad ones) for either decision.

The fact that Heller’s house blended in with its surroundings is interesting. It is interesting to speculate why such a house would be appropriate for Heller. Does it represent the privacy he seeks? Or what? I don’t remember enough about him from the book to hazard a guess.

3

Are the questions in your second paragraph to be answered by the architect or by the customer, or both? Roark seemed to demand that he be given simply the function of the building, not the theme. The theme seemed to be decided by him. However, remember the Stoddard Temple? The theme was explicitly stated by the customer.

What of the possible commissions I mentioned in my original post? Would Roark take a commission if I demanded that it remind me of the greatness of Rome?

4

I don’t think I can manage any mind-reading of a fictional character to know about theoretical commissions, but I do have some thoughts on the esthetics of architecture . . . actually on beauty in general.

The easiest way to explain this, I think, is to start with the fact that we find random, naturally occuring things to be beautiful, such as rainbows, snowstorms, wind-driven surf, strange rocks, trees, etc. Why should that be? Naturally-occuring images have no apparent significance, right? They don’t have meaning. They aren’t art.

However, they do have esthetic value, and here’s why I think that they do: we find beautiful, in nature, sights that stress the aspects of life that we find metaphysically (sense-of-life style) important. If we find clarity, sharp contrast, and elegant simplicity reflect our view of the world, we will love the sight of new snow in sunlight. If we find competance, ability, precision, and rectitude to be important, we will enjoy the sight of huge granite crags thrusting out of the woods. If we love clean purity, we will rejoice to see a rainbow.

A building, when constructed, becomes a part of the landscape; you can’t look at a building and not see the landscape. The landscape determines the building’s esthetics. So, in order to have esthetic integrity, a building has to take its setting into account. There are numerous examples of this in The Fountainhead, from the Heller House to Gail Wynand asking Roark, “Do you control the light?” when they’re talking about the home he built for Dominque.

Now, as I indicated above, not everyone will have the same esthetic judgements about a particular patch of landscape. Roark’s personal esthetics are indicated, I think, most strongly in the opening scene when he stands over the pool, about to dive, and sees the world around him as things to be shaped and commanded by man.

If you think about the Heller house in this context, it becomes fairly obvious (to me) why it had to be exactly what it was. Did he build the house cowering at the base of that crag of stone, which would have been much easier from an engineering perspective? No! Because man is not a creature that shrinks from the natural world. So, the house was right on top of the rock, the most difficult place it could possibly go. Did he make it stick out like a sore thumb, a defiance and denial of the natural world that surrounded it? No! The house was the perfect completion of the cliff, the visible demonstration of the fact that nature has meaning only through man, and that man’s control of nature, is, well, the most natural thing of all.

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Yes, I know, you have angst with discussing “what would so-and-so do?” when so-and-so is fictional. I, however, think it is a perfectly valid method of analysis within a certain context and given certain motivations, but not all. For example, not in order to mindlessly follow what one thinks so-and-so would do, but to discover what so-and-so would do given intimate knowledge of his principles and character. Fictional characters, after all, if created properly, can most assuredly be understood in principle, just as any real-life person. Anyway, that’s not the point of this and it doesn’t change things, so let us leave that. :stuck_out_tongue:

So then is the only proper theme for a building one of belonging to its surroundings? Disregarding the “differences as to esthetic judgment,” inevitably the judgment must be guided by the idea of fitting to its surroundings and accomplishing its purpose?

Would this mean that a building in the classical theme in the middle of Manhattan is “wrong”? Take, for example, the civic center near Wall Street. It is very Roman in theme. The Roman theme doesn’t “blend with its surroundings.” Is it wrong?

You see, it is my opinion that it belongs because without the men of the ancient times, this city of glass and steel would not be possible. It belongs in this sense. But clearly it doesn’t belong esthetically. Is estehtic belonging how one judges whether a theme is proper or not?

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Additionally, consider the New York City public library. Is that “wrong” as well (with its columns and lions at the front)?

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Could you provide links to pictures of those buildings, incidentally? I’ve never seen them.

Fitting into its surroundings isn’t the only proper theme for a building; it depends on what those surroundings are. What I was trying to indicate was that you can’t see the building without the surroundings: esthetically they are part of the same picture.

Those surroundings don’t just have to be natural background, of course. What would be the meaning of a small, flat building built in the middle of New York’s commercial district, among all those skyscrapers? It would be an insignificant dot of a building among soaring giants.

It might help you to reconsider some of Ayn Rand’s writings on general esthetics, too. In evaluating a work of art objectively, you first need to articulate what the artist’s theme was. Then, given his theme, you see whether he has communicated it properly or not. That’s where issues of esthetic correctness or incorrectness come in, which is what I’m interpreting you mean by right and wrong.

If, instead, you mean good and evil, that’s a much more personal interpretation, based on your own sense of life and judgement of what things in life are actually important. If you look at the be-columned and lioned public library and you feel a sense of permanence and grandeur, your next step is to treat it like any other emotion you want to analyze, and ask “why do I feel this?”

Because you associate it with ancient Rome, which you consider great? Because you were told it’s great and you want to avoid the responsibility of judgement?

As long as you have a legitimate rational reason for why you like it, I don’t see how anyone can attach a moral evaluation to your like/dislike of a particular building.

8

That’s very precise, and perceptive of you, yes. I agree with this. Thanks for your comments.

I’m currently reading Polybius’s The Rise of the Roman Empire. It is a classic which was practically memorized by the founders (written 2nd century BC). I’m falling in love with the Roman Republic and all it stood for. I don’t consider Rome great because I was told so, I consider it great because I’m coming to realize for myself that it was.

Back to the topic: So in essence, one thing is to assess to what extent a piece of art stays true to its theme, but quite another thing to assess why that theme appeals to you? This brings in another question for me: Are there any themes that while not wrong to like them, could be wrong to build a building around? Suppose your theme, in a novel, was “the wonders of sunsets.” Suppose your entire novel was centered on this. What would you say about the person that this appeals to? Similarly, what about a work of art with a theme of “the greatness of man as seen by the achievements of Rome”? That would, in my opinion, be a delightful theme for a novel, but would it be appropriate for a building?

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P.S. The WORST esthetic crime when it comes to a building is to consider it non-esthetically, as, essentially, four walls supporting a roof. The Kettering Tower in Dayton is, I think, an exponent of this. It’s the tallest building in Dayton and it looks squat because it’s really wide on one side; essentially they built it to fit into the lot. That, and it looks like a bunch of warehouses stacked one on top of another. Even the coloring is ugly, it looks like particularly noxious oil slick. Only at night is this monstrosity beautiful.

The linked picture, btw, is an astonishingly good one.

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Could you provide links to pictures of those buildings, incidentally? I’ve never seen them.

This seems to be the New York Public Library that Felipe is talking about.

Reminds me a bit of the Chicago Art Institute Museum.

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The problem I have with these types of buildings is that they are more like copies rather than tributes. It’s a bit like asking an artist to make a painting that pays tribute to Leonardo da Vinci, and he produces an exact copy of the Mona Lisa.

Suppose you were to tell a rational architect how you loved the Roman Empire and what you loved about it, I think he might well think it would be fun to incorporate that theme into the design, whether it is in the layout, the choice of stone or metal used, the patterns of the ornament… I figure it would be a house for a modern day Roman, with elements and ornament that remind you of its theme.

There could also be contexts where you rationally want to create as close a reproduction, with modern conveniences [and up to city-codes :D]. The motivation of the architect is different from yours. Even if he understands your purpose, if he thinks it’s too simple (a “copying job”), he may not want to do it. On the other hand, if he thinks it would be fun-puzzle to make a copy while hiding all the modern internals, it might intrigue him.

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Roman Republic , not the Empire!

Modern-day Roman, I really like that. Perhaps when I’m ready I’ll commission for just such a house, if I think I’ve earned such a label.

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Roman Republic , not the Empire!

:slight_smile: Sorry! Excuse my ignorance.

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I don’t like columned buildings made from concrete. In addition to being un-original, they’re also dingy, a la the Dayton Art Institute.