Pfeffer's Flamboyant Cuttlefish

Last quarter, I wrote my final paper about my design theory and supported it using information about transcendentalism and Lou Kahn's philosophy.  My theory was only based on what I knew from studying Emerson in American Lit and a basic recollection of Kahn's philosophy from his son's documentary about his life.  I wish I had had access to this week's readings for that assignment, because I'm sure my paper would have been a hell of a lot better.

Kahn's architecture isn't really my cup of tea - I'm not all about the heavy, obvious platonic geometry.  But the more I read about his thoughts on the metaphysical and monumental aspects of the built environment, the more I realize I like his philosophy.

I struggle a lot in my own design process because I try to jump too far ahead to what the solutions should be and over think details; I don't spend enough time contemplating the big picture and trying out lots of things that are probably crap, but are what Kahn thinks is most important:  PROCESS.  The arrival at the solution, the final stage of the project, or the grade is not what I should be thinking about from the very beginning.  Reading Kahn's words helps me realize part of what my huge problem is.  When I complete a project, often I feel unsatisfied with my work, like I could have done much better.  Sure, everybody feels that way to a certain extent, especially if they had just had one more hour... but for me, part of it is that I don't explore the full range of possibilities, all of the possible solutions (including the garbage) that are inspired by the asking of the question.  I don't ask enough questions.  The most successful design students I know probably ask five times more questions than I do.

First there is denial, then there is acceptance.

Kristin's New Year's resolution:  Ask more questions about my projects.  To quote Ms. Wreden from free hand drawing in first year:  "What are you doing, potato?"

Kahn's idea about the "ina" and the existence will of every object and living thing fascinates me.  There is a unifying spark of life in every organism, I can go along with that.  Are we defined as what we are because something in us "wants to be" it?  With humans this becomes too complex to understand fully, and thus what humans produce (architecture) is too complex for this concept to be applied.  Are you who you are because of what your genes and your environment "want" you to be?  Or are you who you are because of what you intellectually desire to be?  I want and try to be easy-going and level-headed, but my genetics from my dad (nature, not nurture in this case) want me to be a deep feeler and emotionally guided (which I struggle against constantly).  Should I not struggle because nature has chosen my course?

So in architecture, does the design of a library dictate itself to the architect because of what libraries "should be", or does the architect dictate the design based on where he wants to take it?  These aren't necessarily mutually exclusive concepts, but what is at the root of this design?  Does a cathedral want to be a cathedral?