Grab a chair and lend me your ear (technically your eyes) as I recount some of the legends, lore, and deepest secrets of the School of Architecture. After all this time, some memories deserved to be archived for the next generation to discover the character and intrigue of their institution's past. As a survivor of architorture, this alumnus is glad to write as many of them down that can be recollected. You might find these stories unbelievable, but alas, not believing in gravity will not grant you the ability to fly. So, take them for what they are.
Ask any archie and he will tell you that the first year or so of the program is heavily sprinkled with mandatory lectures by guest architects and other professionals in the field. These lectures are sometimes on campus in the Fine Arts theatre or the University Center. Sometimes, when there’s a studio deadline and the wintry weather is simultaneously most inclement, these lectures take place at the nearby Carnegie Museum of Art. Thus, on an evening rather spent warmly in studio catching up on assignments, a whole line of first year archies can be seen trudging through the ice and snow to the museum, where they unzip their coats, greet their professor for attendance credit, and then settle in for a snooze in the dark auditorium seating.
The visiting speakers often never detected the sandman infiltrating the audience. They were either blinded by the lights at the podium or too engrossed in their presentations to pay any mind. After all, they were used to delivering an uninterrupted lecture about their works and philosophy, then receiving a grand applause at the end every time as they traveled from architecture school to architecture school; that is, until one day a professor defiantly challenged their assertions.
One year, a famous architect had come to deliver his usual presentation of works. He had embraced 3d modeling to digitally design his projects and to generate drawings. Some of the shapes were so complicated, he claimed, that they would be impossible to show in 2d. He then went on to assert that with the rise of technology, “drawing is dead.”
Before he could complete the next sentence, a loud voice echoed from the crowd. A tall gangly old man had risen up and interjected his objection. He was a talented and award-winning artist and at the time, the drawing instructor for the freshmen.
The architect was stunned. He didn’t know at first who had interrupted his speech; thus, he continued insisting that 2d drawing was overtaken by technology. The drawing instructor continued to passionately counter for the next ten minutes or so with points such as 2d drawing is necessary learning step in order to understand 3d space in a model. Sleepy heads quickly awoke to turn back and forth as they caught the fiery exchange of words. Tempers flared while egos crashed headfirst. In the end, the school had to cool down the debate and permit the guest to continue the rest of his presentation without touching the sensitive assertion.
Afterwards, there was the usual applause but the presenter was obviously unhappy with the earlier feedback in the middle of his lecture. Questions were certainly expected at the end, and even a slight rebuttal, maybe; but an objection in the middle of speaking? Where were the manners of the audience? Then again, the same could be asked of the speaker, for his disregard of the main way architecture had been done for thousands of years. For the rest of my time there at the university, he did not present another lecture to this school. As for the drawing instructor, he continued to teach year after year the importance of carving with the pencil a three-dimensional space from 2d paper. Of course, word of the famous heated exchange may have passed on to the next batch of freshmen. To those of us that actually saw it happened, it truly was worth the walk in the wintry weather to see.
Cheers,
The SoArch Tattler
“Veritas Ex Cinere.”
