Modernizing History and Identity

Identity, knowledge, and legacy. These three words, by themselves, do not have a lot in common; but in the context of the history of architecture, they go hand-in-hand. History is filled with stories that speak of the time and place they are set in, from these stories we learn, and through these learnings, we create and build new stories that are set in our time and our place – the same goes with the history of architecture. The history of architecture shows us who our architectural ancestors were, what and how they contributed to our shared history, and ultimately, what they left behind for us to build upon. Essentially, those three words that have nothing in common, find common ground in the storied and vast subject that is the history of architecture.

 

These days, these aspects of history are very important; perhaps even crucial to us and our progeny. Frank Gehry has an apt saying for this: “Architecture should speak of its time and place, but yearn for timelessness.”; that idea that he expressed encompasses the three aspects that I have stated. Architecture, speaking of its time and place, educates the current generation of the design identity of those who came before i.e., the Architecture of the Greeks tells the story of a civilization that used simple methods to create timeless structures, in the same manner, Gothic Architecture introduces us to an era of religious exaltation using near-insane methods. In addition, understanding what they built and how they built them, is integral to our profession moving forward because from it we know what to do and what not to do – we know what ideas and technologies to explore and improve upon and we also know what to shy away from. Furthermore, truly understanding and appreciating everything that they have left behind is the best, most concrete form of the legacy they have – a legacy we hope to build on.

               Although simply leaving behind grandiose works and timeless structures does not guarantee the understanding of the architectural identity, the appreciation of the collective knowledge, or the builder’s legacy – simply put, the structures themselves are incomplete without understanding what was left for us. Case in point, we now understand that while the Greek colonnades were built purposefully to exemplify the strength of the Greeks (and their gods), more practical methods could have been used to create their structures; furthermore, the use of buttresses of Gothic Architecture was by no means practical, yet the impact of the element is iconic to this day – the same goes for the colonnade and most (if not all) of the old tricks that were used in earlier eras. In short, simply leaving these structures, beautiful as they may be, is just another step in the process of appreciating and understanding history and what it means to us today.  Otherwise, what would be the purpose of seeing the Erechtheion, or maybe even the Parthenon, today be if we didn’t understand the significance of these places. If we didn’t understand what they were, they’d simply be ruins of an old world and a strange pagan temple with oddly posed female columns – but of course, they are anything but those things.

 

               We appreciate these places because we have synthesized what they mean to our profession, and what they mean to society as a whole – you could say that synthesis is the secret ingredient to appreciating history as a whole and not just a sum of the parts.

 

               With that in mind, I would like to share a story: when I was still in college studying architecture, I had this professor who gave us an interesting extracurricular assignment – he wanted us to draw an assortment of houses and structures from Filipino History to help complete the ones he was missing. The drawing assignment was for a book he was writing at the time (which has since been completed) and he wanted his students to illustrate the drawings to help nudge the love for vernacular architecture (a little background, I’m Filipino and I studied college/university in the Philippines). Now, the architecture of the Philippines is a bit of a mixed bag due largely to the fact that we were colonized by the Spanish in the mid-1500s to 1898, then by the Americans from 1898 until 1946 – so as you can see, there wasn’t a lot of time to explore the identity of the architecture of our culture. Going back to the drawing assignment, my professor (at the time) was finishing this book called ‘Diksiyonaryong Biswal ng Arkitekturang Filipino’ (published 2015) and tasked the classes he was teaching with drawing assignments to help him finish the illustrations of his book – I mention this book because it’s a perfect example of what history, and the history of architecture, means to us today. History nowadays, demands a collective effort to not only compile the knowledge of our forefathers but to also appreciate it and preserve it as much as we can, just like this book. My former professor, Ar. Rino Fernandez, could have simply hired a team of illustrators to finish the drawings in his book, instead, he opted to have students help him draw them to immerse them in the experience (however small) of compiling information about their heritage. He also did a lot of firsthand research by going to the different regions of the Philippines, interviewing locals, and looking at what samples remain, all to ensure he has the correct data. He also constantly asked help from other conservation experts in the country and while the book was sought after, Ar. Fernandez himself said that his book was still a work in progress – he knew there were more entries to be included.

 

If I have strayed too far from my point it is only to prove that a., history, both physical and emotional, is something we all share - it should be protected, gathered, and appreciated by all, not just a select few, b., doing so requires a collective effort, there should be no starchitects in this area. It should just be professionals helping one another to achieve a grand and common goal of taking care of our shared treasures, heritage, and legacy. Finally, c., since history belongs to everyone, we should all bask in the identity, knowledge, and legacy left to us by our forefathers, there is a lot we can gain from it – we should use it every way we can and improve upon it so the next generations may do the same.

 

               It may be cheesy to think this way but think about it, architects as a whole rely on updating modern concepts all the time; we take the good ideas and modernize them, sometimes we even formulate ‘new’ ideas just to learn that they have already been done before – take the Torogan for example. A Torogan is a piece of Filipino Architecture that serves as both the office and the residence of the sultan, events are also held in this place, and not just mundane events but important events like thanksgivings, wakes, weddings, spiritual-related activities, and cultural events as well - this simple piece of architecture from the past currently has a modern counterpart and its concepts like co-habitation and multi-use spaces. See, we weren’t the ones who cracked the code on these things, we already had these ideas way before, but due to the unstoppable force that is progress, we lost some of these important ideas. The important thing, however, is that we can weed out what works and what doesn’t. We can slowly, but surely, help influence what functions of space come back into society and what needs to be tweaked – we can make some change; after all, we control design, or should I say we command design. We shape it to our collective wills - and after all, isn’t that the point of our profession? To create better spaces for society and to educate them on what the places they live in can do for them? To not just create grandiose structures and compete for who the next starchitect should be? Shouldn’t we learn from our collective histories what things made their simpler societies strong even without our modern technology and know-how? Shouldn’t we have a say about public space and how it should enrich lives and not enslave them?

 

I for one vote that we, as a profession, should always look to our collective histories and learn from them – after all, we may find some answers to present problems in our storied past.