THE ARCHITECTURAL THIRD OPTION
|
|
Developing African nations can pioneer a new architectural wave blending modern engineering with classical design and enriching it with local cultural elements.
Every year people across the globe pay thousands of dollars in airfares and hotels to experience the beauty of Europe. However, one major question I have always had is why do they have to go to Europe to see beauty? Is there something unique in the climate of Europe or a special skill that previous Europeans knew that'd been lost through the ages, or do Europeans have some sixth sense that no one else on the planet has? All of these suggestions are quite obviously wrong. The European climate is not particularly unique in any regard (we can build anything bigger and better than any previous generation of humanity) and yes, Europeans are just like everyone else, human. I’d argue that the underlying cause that makes Europe so beautiful are the ancient buildings built during previous eras, and the way those buildings integrate within the cities themselves which has led millions of tourists from around the world to visit, bask and be inspired by European design. Now knowing this, one major question arises that many of these tourists and I have asked ourselves: why not, with our knowledge of modern engineering and cost-saving materials, just replicate and make even grander and more beautiful buildings than our European counterparts? Such events would inspire the imagination and tastes of not only the would-be tourists of their country but also those who can’t afford to see Europe.
Most people leave that question at that as their everyday lives return to normal, and the memories of the beautiful cities they saw fade into the recess of their minds. Anxious to uncover the problem, I decided to pull on this thread and see where this question might lead.
While I ran into a panoply of arguments about cost, practicality, and material, the most conclusive answer to why we don't build classically beautiful buildings came down to the issue of institutions.
In the Western world, for the most part, every facet of everyday life is institutionalized. If you want to become a doctor, an institutional system trains you to become one, likewise for bureaucracy and engineers. The case is no different when it comes to architects, the planners of beautiful buildings and cities. Architects are trained to design buildings in a certain way which is, for the most part, a post-modern architecture that derives from brutalism. Without going down a rabbit hole as to why this architecture won out over classicism (because of issues having to do with cost or theories from men like Krier who believe that brutalism was the victorious allied powers’ response to Nazi classicism) the post-modern architectural movement has been reinforced over decades; breaking that institutional training is almost impossible. An example of the power of these institutions comes in the form of the Trump administration's ordinance to design all new federal buildings in the classical style. Such an ordinance derived from the late philosopher Roger Scrutton’s Build Back Better Foundation’s push to reintroduce classicism into modern life as a way to inspire people. The ordinance, in principle, shouldn't be too controversial considering that many famous federal buildings within the United States are in Washington, D.C. Most of them, at least the most iconic and visited buildings, such as the Capitol, Lincoln Memorial, and Jefferson Memorial, are all classical. However, the institutional blowback was immense. Countless architects fought the ordinance with whatever tools they could muster. Upon the entrance of the Biden administration, the institution won and got rid of the previous administration's decrees.
So what? You might ask. Is it impossible to revert our architectural style to a different time that mixes modern engineering with classical design?
From the inside, institutional change would require decades of effort and, in the end, may actually end up being impossible. Despite this gloomy reality, there is a possibility for change not from the inside but from the power of the outside. If another country or region without the powerful institutions of the West mixed classically beautiful buildings with modern engineering, they could create a shining example of a different way to design and build cities. Based on the billions spent annually to see European beauty, such a project would pop the regressive institutional bubble of architecture present throughout the west, creating a movement of new classical architecture worldwide.
However, finding such a place seems impossible. How many places in the world are, in a sense, a blank slate with little institutional pressure forcing them to copy what everyone around the world is doing? Such a concern remained unmovable until I visited the Republic of South Sudan. Although I wasn't there for long, I saw immense potential.
For those who might not be as familiar with South Sudan, the country gained its Independence from Sudan in 2006 and, after a long and brutal civil war, created a coalition government in 2013, making it the youngest country in the world.
As the youngest nation in Africa, they inherited little from their predecessors but are on the path toward rapid development. While I was there, the city was full of action; workers were building a new airport terminal, paving roads, and setting the foundations for apartment buildings. To say the least, I was witnessing the creation of a new nation, and I think that an important question remains for the likes of South Sudan and other developing countries like it; will they have their own future in culture, style, and architecture or follow the blueprint of the developed world? In the particular case of architecture, the developing nations within Africa do not have institutions forcing specific designs; they only have their cultural heritage from home and Europe. They have the unique opportunity to choose to either:
If South Sudan and countries like it chose the third option, they would not only create a statement for the people of Africa as a nation that seeks to build its own unique identity, but it would also position itself as a new central actor in the spheres of beauty and art that would force the rest of the world to follow.
The implementation of such a new strategy should be conducted in the following manner.
First, encourage every newly built architectural school, along with the existing ones, to focus on classical architecture.
Second, legislators within the cities of these countries should make city ordinances that force a specific style of classical architecture to be incorporated within the nation.
Third, scholars and legislators should, whenever possible, not just copy European architecture but add an element of African heritage to their architectural projects. In the last example, I mean that African nations can use their own styles influenced by landscape or history to influence their buildings. An example of this idea can be seen in the Burg Al Arab in Abu Dhabi. The building imitates an iconic Arab Sail. Abu Dhabi’s decision to add this component to the building has led it to become an iconic building that has gained universal acclaim among architects worldwide. African nations and architects can do the same, using their local cultural icons and landscape to complement classical skyscrapers.
In summary, the question remains for the developing African nations, people, and architects: do you want to copy everything, both good and bad, that the developed world has to offer? Or do you wish to copy only the good and add your own culture to it? If you build it people will come. Your answers will determine whether walking your cities will be a luxury or an inconvenience.