Eh gyirl me like
ya featcha
Driving up the
Hagley Park Road the other day, my taxi driver slows down, leans his head out
of the window and motions a girl to cross the road in front of us. She remains
expressionless and moves across the road with an easy rhythm. My taxi-driver
suddenly becomes frantic, leans across me and shouts out “Eh girl, me like ya
featcha!” The girl walks on, kisses her teeth. Jamaicans have a way with
language. That last thought inspired me to think about what I would have said,
had I been in a position to celebrate the beauty of a well orchestrated
structure.
People may be excused for thinking
that architecture is the horrible mess that builders leave behind on the the
pavement after they have finished whistling at the girls while holding strange
implements. But this is no reason to turn away in disgust: People have to live
and work within that mess. Those people might stop and think how much easier
their life could be made if the space in which they perform that life was more
in tune with the life they had envisaged.
An informed public can make an
enormous difference to the urban environment: It is the public’s responsibility
to demand quality. They have to make
up their mind as to what quality consists of. The fact is that bad architecture
is not always the architect’s fault. The real fault lies with those who think
that architecture is somehow an easy thing, for which simple common sense is
enough. Architects, clients, committees and the general public often make that
mistake. The making of good
architecture is difficult. To make architecture work well, in today’s highly
urban society, requires a broad and deep training.
And we must have good architecture; it is as important as a good economy
and a healthy environment. In fact, good architecture is directly related to
both of those! Buildings are the setting of our daily life. They frame the view
from our window, they mark our passage through the day, they help determine the
success of our gatherings, reflect and mould our voices and channel our
activities. Good architecture has the ability to enhance our daily life,
effortlessly. I would suggest that good architecture is an agent of economic
development, not just by demanding a varied, self-disciplined and highly
skilled work-force but also because it provides some of the main ingredients in
that intangible space of a successful economic transaction: trust, stability
and potential. Good buildings create value, they draw people. Drawing people
together naturally creates the setting for economic activity.
And good architecture is not just a
luxury only to be afforded by the rich. Good architecture does not necessarily
cost a lot of money. It costs critical thought.
What is good architecture? That is
the mother of all questions. Let me begin by being rather vague about it. Good
buildings ease the processes of daily life. That makes the intuitive simplicity
which a good building must achieve, a very complex affair. Think of ho much
effort has been spent on making a computer program accessible to the layman.
The two things are comparable. Good design is as arcane a science as computr
programming.
One way of spotting bad
architecture, is to look for the overriding, dominating presence of one feature
in a building which actually becomes a hindrance to the proper functioning of
others. The exhibition of material wealth, for instance, has often hindered the
experience of the comforts which that very wealth is supposed to bring; so many
houses built against the hills of Kingston have become large, dank, amorphous
lumps of cavernous concrete, they do not exhibit the hard-earned wealth they
are supposed to represent; they merely exhibit a senseless waste of it. The
overriding obsession with mere size has killed off people’s access to light and
the fresh breeze, these wealthy people turn their back to the view they have
paid so dearly for. As a consequence such buildings defeat their own purpose.
They become the expensive obstacle to the pleasant life they were supposed to
ensure. How easy it would have been to create a place which has that air about
it which sustained success always carries: that air of being comfortable within
one’s skin, that air of self-sustaining and independent confidence, that air,
in short, that some people have as they walk across the road: self possessed
with the whole world there for the taking.