Architecture as Social Critique: Holl in Beijing

Architecture as a form of social critique: we’ve moved past that, right? As practitioners, as historians, as a society that learned the lessons of modernism and reveled in the erudition of postmodernism?

Here’s what sparked this post: Holl’s new building in Beijing, the so-called Linked Hybrid. Now some would argue that architecture cannot be critiqued in the same way as, say, a sculpture or painting, but art criticism is where I started - those be my roots- so forgive me if I want to talk about the cultural production that we call the built environment in ways that reflect the social, political, and aesthetic context of its making. So perhaps you understand how, when that glossy AR cover (Architectural Record, January 2010) came to occupy my breakfast table this morning, I saw a building that spoke to a social condition in a way that the buildings on that cover have not in some time. 

Full disclaimer, I was one of those who spat venom at the starchitects and little guys alike who went running to the money pouring out of China and the Middle East in the past decade. Many defended their work under the guise of buzzwords like “global community” or argued that they were bringing inspiration to the oppressed masses in the form of a free, democratic building style (Architectural Record, July 2008). Let’s just say that I found those excuses unacceptable, simply means by which they could avert their gaze from the reality of those situations – slave labor where expenditures could sometimes mean the occasional life or money being pulled from the starving underclass to feed a newly developing upper class and an ambitious government’s deadline for presence on the world stage.

Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against the dollar. I like money and wish I had more, but I also have ethics which lead me to despise those who would gain a dollar at someone else’s expense, especially a disenfranchised cog in the authoritarian machine.

Take that for what it is. Let’s talk about what I saw on that cover.

At first glance, Holl’s building elevations are oppressive, concrete grids, stiff exoskeletons that provide the primary structural support. The effect is heavy and there’s no tripartite scheme here to lighten the mood – just the grinding monotony, the equidistant spacing, the squares multiplying up and down, left and right. No cornice to end the march; the building just stops. And there are eight of these buildings, clustered in this new development just outside Beijing’s Second Ring Road. Honestly, the scheme immediately brings to mind Soviet architecture in East Berlin, which did a good job of this sort of building-for-the-people that lacks any sense of life’s color or vitality.

Maybe it was the fresh coffee and morning light, but something sparked. Before I read the feature article (and Holl’s statement that he would never do a project that “relocates” people – Good for you, guy, I guess) I suddenly saw the building grid as representative of the people in the Chinese communist system, each counting equally, square by square, separated from each other by the heavy hand of government supervision. The containment of each individual is palpable.

But then Holl and his Beijing-based partner Li Hu begin to offer opportunities for subversion, slight changes in the grid that suggest an unstoppable human spirit. Diagonals run across small sectors of the building, not breaking the grid or even severing the barriers between squares, but connecting two, sometimes four individuals at a time. This is a slight subversion of the order but enough to hint at the human will to connect and engage, even while operating within the grid’s structure. (Yeah, yeah, after reading the article, I understand that these diagonals are actually the lines of structural support, but why should that deflect interpretation?)

Then come those large swaths of color – the bridges that penetrate and connect these blocky volumes, reordering the grid at its moments of intersection. Like a beam of colored light bouncing off of surfaces, these bridges seem to represent those streams or digital flows of information that are cutting through the society. Try as you might, you cannot block out those outside influences and dialogs. People will connect to the world. They will be exposed to the outside. Being found out is inevitable.

All of a sudden what looked like oppressive blocks with novelty bridges become a subversion of power. Revolution in construction.

Is this what Holl and Hu intended with their building? Probably not, but I will persist. Irony in design is too rare in architecture. To find it in Beijing is the only positive sign I’ve seen in the field recently. I’ll take it.

A Late Arrival.

To all those who know me well, I know what you're thinking. For years I've commented on the self-aggrandizement and narcissism of blogging, my upper lip curling when thinking of the mundane drivel that so many bloggers take for content, a smug smile when wondering "really, who's listening?" Yet, here I am, equipped with my formal apology to (most) of the blogosphere. I'm here because like so many others, I wanted an outlet that (1) got me writing on a regular basis; (2) increased the web presence of my new small business venture; and (3) allowed me to participate in the vibrant virtual community of designers, writers, architects, and scores of other creative professionals out there (many of whom have probably been blogging all this while, dismissing my snears as ignorance - and justly so).

So what is this blog about then? The good stuff. Ok, some days I may write about writing. Other days, in fact most days, I prefer to talk about the latest article on architecture I read or the new bottle of wine I discovered. I love the arts and design, and these days those words cover a lot of territory: architecture and cool products, sure, visual culture and dance, of course, but, also, food & wine, fashion, and travel. Basically, this spot is for me to talk about what's interesting to me today. Is that narcissistic? Perhaps a little, but maybe it's interesting to others as well. And if it is, let me know? I'm all for connecting to a creative community that sees the traditional boundaries between disciplines as suggestions rather than requirements.

Background:
This blog represents part of the new act of putting myself out there in ways I never would have previous to my experience of the past year, namely unemployment which took me to various levels of uncertainty and despair before converting to resolute determination.

One day, I just woke up and realized the plan I've nurtured for myself was not working. In fact, the plan was dead in the water. No life plan is foolproof. None can stand up to Great Recessions or government bailouts or other catastrophic circumstances without giving way. Some plans bend, some break. I decided mine was broken for the fact that it was never flexible enough in the first place.

So what to do? Cliché as it sounds, I decided that if I was going to live life, I better start now. "Waiting for the right time" became the most ridiculous phrase to me because there's never a "right time." There's now and there's later. And if this little niche business was (surprisingly) bringing in work, then stop half-a**ing it and take the world by storm.

Thus my new year's resolution: To be a "better boss of me." I'm investing all my spare energy into really seeing if this self-employed bit can work for me in the long term. So now the stack of books on my coffee table are all new non-fiction, not cultural history or theory as usual but, rather, books on business strategy, viral networking, and start-ups. I've become one of those people... but with spunk.