Tradition and Architecture by Michael S. Ellars Copyright Fall 1997 All Rights Reserved Like few other professions, architecture has a rich tradition stretching back to the beginning of recorded history. This has mainly been a tradition dominated by aristocratic males (usually white) who have overseen the so-called evolution of architectur e. What this traditional view fails to account for - and that which several authors of late have addressed - is the challenge presented by more enlightened views of ecology, gender, and race, as well as new political and economic relationships between ar chitecture and society. In his essay "Second Nature: On the Social Bond of Ecology and Architecture," Richard Ingersoll examines the extraordinary relationship between ecology and architecture. Realizing that "every act of building is inherently antiecological to the degree it induces a displacement of 'natural' relationships," Ingersoll promotes the common-sense approach "to lower entropy and encourage a 'sustainable' environment" (Ingersoll 1996, 119). Entropy cannot be reduced - so say the physical laws of the universe - but it can be slowed, and this is what Ingersoll proposes, through the use of traditional passive techniques (such as long roof overhangs) to modern technologies (such as photovoltaics). Sherry Ahrentzen's attack on the male-dominated profession, in her essay "The F Word in Architecture: Feminist Analyses in/of/for Architecture," comes off as less refined than Ingersoll's approach. Although her detailed explanation regarding the differ ences between gender and sex is indeed enlightening, and despite strong evidence in some areas to support her claims that women are adversely discriminated against in the architectural world, some of her supposed scenarios border on the absurd. Specifica lly, her attacks on the Mormon Church (which seem beyond justification or proof) and her claims to rampant sexual harassment in scholastic studios (which in two and a half years I have never even heard about) make the rest of her arguments fade into the s ame skeptical light. Struggling through her error-riddled rhetoric, Ahrentzen calls for an end to the male-dominated aspects of architectural education and professionalism, specifically the masculine modes of thinking and education. Since males are cond itioned to work independently and value competition, this creates a hostile atmosphere for females, who are conditioned to work collaboratively and with little competition. This atmosphere of adversity also squashes personal initiative and creativity, ef fectively disabling new graduates from their ability to survive in "the commercial realm" (Ahrentzen 1996, 102). In "Accommodation and Resistance: The Built Environment and the African American Experience," Bradford C. Grant's view of the African American architectural plight seems, at first, to suffer from the same rhetorical errors as Ahrentzen's essay. But the n a difference emerges: rather than dwell on the horrible things done to the African American community over the history of architecture, Grant describes how that community has struggled to overcome those adversities. Grant identifies three historical s tages of African American architecture: Slavery, when African Americans actually wielded significant influence over American architecture, albeit in a subtle manner; the Jim Crow Era, when African American architects suddenly found their services not onl y excluded from the "mainstream" but actively discriminated against, forcing the creation of schools specifically for - and specifically catering to - African American architects; and Civil Rights, when African Americans found themselves on the forefront of the profession, both as clients and designers. Today, Grant explains, African American architects are often "invisible": despite being nearly as tall as Mies van der Rohe's Lake Shore Towers, African American architect John Moutusseme's North Pier Tow ers go virtually unknown (Grant 1996, 213). As Grant sees it, there are three ways to deal with this problem: to create a "mainstream identity," to survive through "group insularity," or to go it alone as an independent architect. Marshall Berman addresses yet another challenge to architecture in his book, All That Is Solid Melts Into Air: this time, it is the relentless pursuit of "Modernity" and the terrible - and, tragically, necessary - destruction it brings. From his discus sions on Goethe's Faust and Marx, through Baudelaire and Robert Moses, Berman paints a disturbing picture of Modern society: a culture bent on producing the latest and greatest thing, be it a physical product or just an idea, at the cost of everything th at came before it. This is "the real tragedy," as Berman sees it: the necessary destruction "of everything most vital and beautiful in the modern world itself" (Berman 1988, 295). And just who is to blame for this wanton destruction? Here Berman point s to Marx, who identifies the bourgeois as the catalyst. The capitalist society created by the bourgeois is chaotic at best, and it is this chaos which consumes everything before it. Last in this line of authors, though by no means the least, is Hassan Fathy. Fathy's book, Architecture for the Poor, is a detailed examination of his (mostly) failed efforts to create New Gourna. "Old Gourna" is a small village in Egypt whose main sou rce of income is from the tradition of grave robbing the ancient Egyptian tombs nearby. The new village was an attempt by the government to quell this theft; yet in the end, it was the government's own bureaucratic interference and inactivity that led to the project's failure. Despite his pilot project's doom, Fathy nonetheless was able to develop several important techniques - most notable the formless vault - which he as continued to advocate as architecture for the poor of the world. Fathy's sad tale reveals a key problem with how the government views housing for the poor: rather than examining traditional, sustainable solutions to housing and employment problems, governments tend to be more content to rush the latest (and therefore untested) solutions to the masses. The unfortunate problem with this approach is that the latest solutions tend to be expensive and difficult to understand and emulate without a high degree of education. As such they are completely inappropriate. Though at first the arguments of Fathy and Berman may seem similar, it is actually Grant with which Fathy strikes the closest chord. Most of the problems associated with the African American architectural plight are directly related to government-sancti oned interference and discrimination - not unlike the Egyptian government's red tape in Fathy's little experiment. In addition, American society's blind refusal to recognize many American architectural achievements (such as the large covered porches of S outhern plantation mansions) as the works of African Americans is as equally frustrating as the Egyptian government's abandonment of Fathy's traditional methods and materials. Society and government, it would seem, are more interested in crediting achiev ements to the ruling class while advocating only the latest technologies. (Though Ingersoll may enjoy this advocacy, he also points out that the savings in efficiency are balanced by the sheer increase in population.) At the same time, the problems Grant exposes are closely paralleled by those of Ahrentzen. Both represent the views of minorities not only in society, but (especially) in the architectural world. Ahrentzen's tales of feminine oppression may be question able in the extent she describes, but their existence is no less real than the well-documented adversity faced by African Americans. (Were it not for my personal experiences in several areas in which Ahrentzen claims knowledge, I might be inclined to fol low her carrot of a horrible masculine conspiracy; alas, what she claims to be commonplace, I have never witnessed anywhere.) Both advocate an increased awareness of minority issues, specifically the way the profession recognizes and integrates with them . For Ahrentzen, this means a turn away from the masculine loner tactics to a more humanistic, collaborative, and supportive architecture process. For Grant, due recognition for African American achievements and sensitivity to the social concerns of the African American culture are paramount. Berman's exploration of the Modern condition is very interesting when compared to Ingersoll's appeal for responsible use of materials out of respect for ecology. Ironically, the same society Ingersoll wants to slow entropy is the same bourgeois society Berman labels "the most violently destructive ruling class in history" (Berman 1988, 100). How does Ingersoll expect his ideas to be taken seriously? Ingersoll draws on the architecture profession itself: following the idea behind "The Housing Question " (which addressed the need for fair and clean housing for everyone, not just those who could afford it), he proposes "The Ecology Question." Such an idea, he warns, runs the risk of "treating the symptoms without changing the system" (Ingersoll 1996, 14 3). It is essential to treat not only the current, tangible ecological problems (such as nuclear waste), but intangible aspects such as cultural response to environmental responsibility. Thus, Ingersoll's solution calls on one of the fundamental aspects of Modern society: the propensity for change. These writings all address serious deficiencies in the modern architectural atmosphere. Though some are poorly explained, each leaves the reader with an enlightened view of the deficiencies of architecture today. Architecture is not a perfect professio n; indeed, from the material presented here, it would seem to be a very imperfect profession in almost every aspect, from social to economic to political. And yet, despite overwhelming evidence of the need for change, little happens. For architecture is fiercely proud of its traditions and will fight to the bitter end to see them preserved. [word count: 1501]