Greetings Architecture
I sat in on a talk about you once.
A good-sized group was present. We were in the sort of room that would be made pleasant by the right kind of sunset. On the plateau, though, this was easily managed.
A tall philosopher had just been introduced. A very smart man. I recall at a function a few days later speaking to a Dutchman who was very impressed by his presentation;
“He’s very clever, and he’s right you know.”
“Oh and also, I’ve just come back from Kampala; I am sure Africa will be the final countdown place.”
To return to the point... What I think the philosopher was driving at was that architects are the ones with the right skillset to get through the ‘bubble’ of nonsense insulation, nonsensulation, that had wrapped itself around the industry – and what it might be able to achieve.
On its best day.
“You can get through it.”
We grasped most of what was being said, concepts were made clear and accessible - for the most part, and there were moments in which we felt gripped by honest motivation. Not quite crusade-ready, but certainly ready to head down to the workshop and get something going. Something thoughtful. Hopefully practical.
That said, however, there were also moments in which we felt a bit like we may just be missing something; a bit out of touch.
The right kind of sunset seemed to be taking some people away.
Just then, an old man stood up. He wanted to participate in the open Q&A.
He said,
“I don’t know much about what is being said here, I have my thoughts, but you know I am an old man.”
“All my life I’ve thought architecture was the making of containers for people.”
“I’m very excited to be here with all of you, young and old, talking about architecture.”
The right kind of sunset hit a warm resonance with the quiet in the room. Those with lids shut would’ve missed it, but remained happy all the same.
“But that’s precisely it, how you’ve so eloquently put it. Containers for people.”
The smart philosopher was touched and emboldened by this brief exchange. His voice matched his height; he had the attention of the room.
Time dipped past us. We’d been well held. We’d listened to a clever man, and an old architect – held up by his cane.
His supporting structure imparted on him no small degree of wisdom.