I have always been excited to learn a new word that more accurately conveys a concept or a sentiment. In “The Architecture of Community” I have been given a book-length load of “new words” that have enabled me to articulate things I have long thought, but was unable to communicate. For this I have the author, architect Leon Krier, to thank. Why is a strip mall or “big box” store so completely disconnected from its environs? How could they seem so curiously uninhabited when there are hundreds of cars zipping about in their lots? Why does a spacious suburban or exurban neighborhood feel so soul-drainingly isolating? Why do our glass cube skyscrapers and “challenging” public buildings appear anti-human?

Of course, this is a minority opinion, akin to being a pagan in Athens of 520 AD. We are told the world has moved on. But we are what we build for ourselves to live and work in. This makes it even odder that buildings around the world built since the Second World War, in an age of so-called “diversity” seem so alike. Krier would describe this as the “anti-conformism of the establishment”. This is a feature of our present world, that the powers that be in all fields, from architecture, to music, to painting, to sculpture, to literature, to philosophy, to politics and religion see themselves are rebels when in fact they are the rulers. Perhaps in the world of architecture this is most apparent, because it is “just as food concerns us personally in a daily manner, we live with buildings whether we like it or not. That is why we all have strong feelings on the subject”.

As a secular priesthood, the mainstream of architects surround themselves with jargon so that if an average person doesn’t like it, they would respond that if they don’t understand some building-it’s YOUR fault for being a philistine and an ignoramus. Krier responds to this by saying “if you don’t like a dish or a car design you don’t feel guilty or for disagreeing with the experts’ choices. Why should architecture be any different?” Krier is perhaps on to something more than he realizes, as you could apply this statement to not only architecture, but the whole panoply of what is called “modern” or “post-modern” without this statement losing its sting.

At first glance, the manner that this book is written seems at odd with Krier’s stated objections to modernism as it is not a traditional text on architecture or urban planning like, for instance, Ruskin’s The Stones of Venice. The Architecture of Community is more of a collection of notes, short essays and sketches, something we would associate with the “modern”. But he would probably like it to be taken in a different way, somewhat like The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, giving us a view into Mr. Krier’s mind. Krier fills his book with photos, drawings and his own simple yet profound doodles illustrating his ideas. Three that stick out on my mind are on pg. 89 illustrating the hypocrisy of the prominent modernist “starchitects”, another on pg. 106 on urban growth and one on pg. 160 about order and disorder. These sketches made concepts clear to me in a way that merely reading about them would not.

But to stick to the subject at hand, Krier says that in traditional architecture there was a distinction between the public and the private, and buildings filling these functions were thought of in different ways and with different architectural expressions. He calls these “classical” for the public and “vernacular” for the private. As a side note he explains that his use of the word classical does not necessarily mean the architecture of the Greeks and Romans, but anything more grandiose and ornate-a gothic cathedral or an art deco skyscraper would also be examples of classical. Classical is also geometric order-grids and right angles. Vernacular is simpler and is more “organic”. It is the simpler design of a house as opposed to a palace and, say, the winding streets of a medieval city as opposed to a rigid grid. In modernism these differences are blurred, as Krier says “museums look like assembly lines and churches look like industrial warehouses.” (He also warns of the opposite, but in my opinion, that is far, far less of a problem.)

This is not to say that we should be hide-bound and uncreative. Krier remarks of the fact that “Types” (typical examples of a building) have not crystallized for new categories of buildings that have emerged since the last era prior to modernism. For instance, trains came into widespread use in the mid-19th Century and the railway station rapidly took the form we know today. Contrast this with airports, where despite 50 years of more or less similar technology (the 707 is no more different in external form from a 787 than a train of 1850 was from one of 1890) the “type” of airport is in a constant state of flux.

About half of the book covers Krier’s projects at Seaside Florida & Poundsbury in England and hypothetical ones for Washington DC and a remarkable one for Tenerife called Atlantis which certainly looks like it would have fit in on its namesake. Some of Krier’s personal predilections come out when the readers sees his projects, as one notices that he loves trussed terraces and quadra-obelisks on towers. These appear over and over again in various forms. Krier seems to prefer to work in a vaguely Mediterranean style, with nods to the Doric. The difficulties and obstacles to those like Krier who work outside the modern mainstream are apparent, as few of his projects have been completed to his satisfaction. Contrast this with someone like Frank Gehry who has numerous monstrosities under his belt and cities lined up to be site of his next project.

As for urban planning, Krier is the godfather of the movement known as “New Urbanism”. To put it as briefly and succinctly as I can, New Urbanism attempts to build for man on a “man-sized” scale. Urban lots are smaller, neighborhoods are mixed-use and walkable, and limits are placed on expansion, both outward and upward. Again, Krier’s doodles illustrate this better for me than words. For Krier, the difference between public and private correlate with the difference between classical and vernacular, his terms for the difference between churches, schools, libraries, museums, courthouses and such and houses, small commercial establishments and industry. All would work together for a whole. This concept is best explained by a pair of charts on pgs. 304-305 and pgs. 306-307.

I find it odd that New Urbanism has not been embraced by two groups generally on opposite ends of the political spectrum-traditionalists and environmentalists, as it is a way to organize society in a more “organic” way. For traditionalists, the isolation and alienation of the suburban world is avoided along with the anonymity of urban life. For the environmentalists, the all-important ecological footprint is smaller than that of our current sprawl regime. But stranger coalitions have occurred in the past.

The Architecture of Community is certainly a bracing and uplifting work for those opposed to the pervasiveness of modernism in all hydra-like manifestations. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in architecture or urban planning (which as Krier would say is everyone, as we all live in buildings).… (más)