Showing posts with label style. Show all posts
Showing posts with label style. Show all posts

Saturday, 25 February 2017

At the office

At the office

If Were to catalogue comedy taking place in an office, it would result into a huge list relating to the social aspects of office life. Tati's Playtime also focuses on the physical aspects of the modern office and the alienation it may cause. The enormous, purpose-built set that contributed to Tati's bankruptcy following the making of this film is quite often not the background but the subject to the comedy. The only problem is that while Tati once again points out the absurdity of what we take for progress, his solution seems to be just regression to earlier patterns of life. He may have been right, though: office life hasn't improved much since the making of this film, despite repeated promises, including recent attempts and informality and playfulness.

This is evident in a more recent film, where physical aspects also play a prominent role: Office space. It's a film primarily about bullying: how office layout can be used to oppress people. It is quite different from Playtime but it too makes clear how the peripersonal space that dominates human activities and interactions in an office never fails to affect us. If one wants to harm us, they'll find many opportunities in our peripersonal space.

So, I come to the idea that Tati, despite his masterly grasp of affordances, couldn't give us an alternative because Playtime was less about peripersonal space and more about architectural style and the wider cultural changes associated with it. As for architects, this space remains a major challenge. Until they manage to focus on it and find some solutions, comedy will make thankful use of office spaces.

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Architecture and aspiration

Architecture and aspiration

I'm often bemused by architectural nostalgia: the admiration for old buildings that are no longer feasible or required - garnish gothic railway stations, overdecorated stuffy theatres, austere and oppressive classical banks. Architects but also lay people tend to bemoan the reduction of such buildings into utilitarian, often anonymous architecture. The post office is no longer a public grand hall but an insignificant small shop or even just a counter in another shop. We appear to find this evolution a kind of degradation; we prefer monumental designs, expensive materials and rich decoration. The success of digital architecture but also the renewed interest in urban-centre high-rise is related to that.

While every building should receive the care and attention it deserves, I fear that we fail to understand a fundamental difference in the role and hence function and character of buildings in different periods. A railway station in the nineteenth century wasn't just a transport hub; it was a transport hub for the affluent. It had to be upmarket to attract the right customers, those interested in luxury and comfort. At the same time, to other people, less affluent, it was aspirational" if you wanted to improve your station in life, this was the kind of environment you should try to get into - from the clients' side, although the servants' side to such places wasn't a bad beginning.

Much of the nostalgia for old-fashioned buildings comes from such aspirational connotations rather than pure aesthetic or historical value: there are not just nice old stuff; they are old stuff we link to luxury, success and high social status - status that could be acquired with money, the Orient Express nostalgia. Architecture has always been aspirational -just think of the Renaissance and Classicism and their role in elevating society; architectural ornamentation as a status symbol; eponymous architecture (labels) and our current keenness to enrich our life with it. In the case of past architecture it is even more so: past aspirations refer not only to historical high points but also to analogies with today's aspirations. Promoting the preservation of even doubtful old buildings is also a mark of culture; supporting such actions has its aspirational aspects, too. Moreover, old aspirational buildings tend not to be as controversial as new ones. On the contrary, they are objects of civic pride, cultural achievement or at least technical achievement.

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

The cool cats

The cool cats 

Some time ago I watched Melville's Le Samouraï again after a long time. I enjoyed as much as the first, second, third or ... time (how many, actually?) but probably with more detachment than when I was young. At that time, the atmosphere had a different meaning; the tragic heroism of the story permeated every aspect of the film. The magical, then unknown environment of Paris was as strong as the hero's character; it had a charm that attracted and inspired. Now I smile when I realise how Melville made everything look cool. The people are cool; their dress is cool; they listen to cool kaxx; they drove cool cars (Jeff only steals cools Citroën DSs - one of the reasons why I love the film); the criminals are not miserable low-lifes but cool, silent types; even Jeff's filthy apartment looks cool in the film's dark photography.

That was what they were selling to us back then: cool. Delon was cool, McQueen was cool, Newman was cool. That weren't the strongest or invincible or whatever they have been selling to us before or after. They were just cool - as detached, as ironic as I feel now watching them. Reality was a game to them but a game with principles - their own, eclectic and idiosyncratic principles, as Jeff's pointless death illustrates: what was he trying to achieve? And so we tried to be as cool as that by putting on similarly cool clothes, listening to cool music, watching these cool films, feeling cool by proxy. We didn't have to achieve much, be or become something. All we had to do was adopt the style. Easy.