One Wall at a Time

Musical Expression

As I delved into my thoughts to find out what my true passions were, I only found vague shadows of feelings that I couldn’t define. I love to compose music, I enjoy writing poetry, and art is an expression that I am so fond of that I am in the process of making it my career. The closest thing to a passion that I could define was the fact that I love to create; more than anything, the emotional release of artistic expression is something that I know I cannot live without. However, when I tried to find how these passions connected me to the world around me, the result was often contrived. Finally, I decided to take a simpler approach. I asked myself, “When was the last time that I was excited?” “Excited” at first seemed to be an overly simplistic criteria, but I arrived to an end much quicker than I thought I would.

I remembered my senior road trip and college acceptance letters, graduation and my first date, and a plethora of other random events that made high school bearable. Then, after a while of soothing nostalgia, I remembered an event that had a very significant impact on me. This “event” was a lecture by Antoine Predock, an architect from New Mexico. He was being awarded the American Institute of Architects (AIA) Gold Medal Award, and was giving a presentation after the ceremony. During the presentation he talked about current projects, how he became interested in architecture, and various other background information. Finally, he started his slide show and went into detail about various projects. He talked about the collaboration with his fellow architects, satisfying the parameters set up by the client, and figuring out how to make an artistic statement throughout the entire process. The result, as portrayed by the slides, had a compelling effect on me. For the first time, I was moved by the structure of buildings. The spaces within, the materials, the orientation; everything had a purpose and specific intent. Buildings were actually exciting.

Austin City Hall by Antoine Predock

Although I was positive that this was going to be the topic of my paper, I continued to browse the cranial archives. This time I made my focus a little more academic, and thought of papers, research, and teachers that had made a lasting impression on me. After a bit, I recalled a particular subject that I always found myself arguing about during high school: global warming. As of today, my opinion is that global warming is a pressing issue with a complex solution. But this was not always the case; for the majority of my life I was convinced that the shrieking environmentalists talking of imminent death were out of line and completely irrational. During my sophomore year, I saw “An Inconvenient Truth” for the first time. I was blown away, and was ashamed of my wasteful ways. At the dinner table, I brought up various facts and tidbits that I had seen in the film, but was surprised by my Dad’s reactions. For every depressing fact I had, he seemed to have a retort that was supported by scientific fact. Frustrated and confused, I decided to do some research on my own. I found out some very surprising things. Scientists were in the process of suing Al Gore, and were lead by John Coleman, the founder of the weather channel. I soon learned the topic was not as black and white as Al Gore had made it seem, and that climate trends have been far more volatile in the past than they are now. So who was right?

The global warming issue was then and is still an issue that I have mixed feelings about. However, it made me aware of a mindset that I believe makes sense. I concluded that global warming trends, if natural, would be nearly impossible to stop through by our doing. However, if the weather changes were the result of our CO2 emissions, then it would indeed be possible for us to correct them. Here is the part that determined my stance: we have no way of knowing what is causing the global warming, we only know the suspects. I decided that it is our duty as a society to make the effort to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. If it turns out that we were wrong about their significance, then the only result would be an atmosphere with less CO2. On the other hand, if the alarmists were correct in their predictions, then we will have preserved our fragile ecosystem from further damage.

You may have seen this coming, but it turns out that my seemingly unrelated “passions” actually fit together quite well, and are even the basis of a building craze today. Green architecture is becoming a more dominant force today than it ever has been before. For the first time, “skins” are surrounding buildings in order to reflect light and contain heat, walls are getting thicker and contain more insulation, grass roofs or “green” roofs are becoming mandatory in cities such as Chicago…the list goes on and on. Universities are offering classes on green building, and students are eager to sign up for them. And, perhaps this is the most important part, consumers are more willing to pay for them. The reason isn’t as noble as it sounds. Green buildings, by nature, maximize efficiency and cut down on heating and cooling costs. They also have a smaller impact on the environment around them. These buildings cost significantly less money and resources to operate, and for this reason are attractive to consumers living in a world where energy prices are constantly rising. So why aren’t there more green buildings? Why do the majority of people see them as an extra cost instead of an investment? Why aren’t more cities willing to see them as a benefit and not a political liability?

In Paul Roberts’ book, the End of Oil, he brings up an interesting phenomenon. American consumers, when purchasing a car, don’t see the fuel efficiency as a significant cost. If someone drives their SUV 15,000 miles a year, then the costs for fuel can be well over $3,000 per year. Depending on how long we own the car, the cost of fuel can equal more than half of the total initial cost of the vehicle. So why isn’t this one of the most important factors of buying a car?

$$$

The same ideology occurs when people build houses or offices; the upfront costs are more important than the maintenance costs. With a minimal amount of public education, green buildings won’t be seen as a “yuppie” fad but as a worthwhile investment. Even with this new motivation for purchasing green buildings, the original intent will be preserved. Maintenance costs, typically water, heating, and cooling, typically translate directly into electricity costs. Electricity is one of the biggest carbon producers due to its origins: coal fired and gas fired plants. So, if consumers start making efforts to save money by cutting costs, they are indirectly—but very effectively—reducing carbon emissions. Roberts’ illustrates this point again when he states that one of the more effective ways to reduce carbon emissions is through efficiency. He maintains that if the U.S. would have kept its strict fuel efficiency standards that were made during the Gulf War, oil prices wouldn’t be nearly as volatile or have as big as an impact on our economy as they do now. Again, there is a parallel to green architecture. If we make the efforts during a building’s design and construction to save costs, then energy demands will go down or at least remain stable as the years go on. The effort just needs to be made.

As a young adult and future architect, the field of environmentally conscious architecture is exciting. It provides an interesting and engaging challenge for me as a designer, and unifies beauty with efficiency. It also inspires innovation; green buildings aren’t just about florescent bulbs and double paned windows. The “De Young Museum”, designed by the renowned architects Herzog and Meyer, is covered with a perforated copper skin that reflects light in order to help keep the interior cooler. The School of Art, Design & Media at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore has a sloping, all grass roof that has insulating qualities as well as a beautiful look. For me, this is more than a fad or a romantic ideal; green building is a necessity and the smartest move that both designers and buyers can make. I still have much to learn about techniques, technologies, and the environment in general, but it is a driving force behind my perception of architecture. In fact it is almost a driving force behind my survival—not really. But it might help keep the summers a bit more bearable.

School of Art, Design, and Media De Young Museum

Hammering thoughts works if they are sharp and pointed, but not if they are illuminating.

Unity. University. That was easy.

So, a common theme that I seemed to pick up on while reading the previous blogs was rationalization. People were trying to rationalize their reasons for going to college. And quite frankly, some of the motives were depressing. How do I know? Because I'm here for the same damn reasons. Money, Job Security, "Intellectual Growth," Learning; it all seems so right. And its especially funny for me because this is the first time I've been able to see these ideals driving other people (I can just see Buddha sitting at his computer, thinking, "you poor lost little souls"). I probably sound pretty pompous...I'll explain.

Silly Children.

Since about, oh lets say fifth grade, I knew where I was going. The plan was simple: get straight A's, and womp the competition. This ideal changed somewhat during high school when I lost all competitive desire, and needed only personal success. In fact, I wished everyone around me success; if everyone in the school got straight A's, I would have been thrilled (there were 7 valedictorians in my class, and I was happy to share the rank.) The point is, I still thought that everything would be gravy if I stayed on track academically. I never stepped back to ask myself why.

Then, one miraculous day, I asked that question I seemed to be so afraid of: "Why?" In fact, it was about the time that I was going to choose which college I was going to attend. For the first time, I was doing some serious thinking about what I wanted to get out of my education. Surprisingly, it had nothing to do with what society had impressed upon me since I was a wee child. It doesn't even have that much to do with what I'm doing right now. Which is depressing. I had fallen into a trap that Newman describes perfectly: "Men whose minds are possessed with some one object, take exaggerated views of its importance, are feverish in the pursuit of it, and make it the measure of things that are utterly foreign to it (311)." I realized that I have been motivated by money and success for the bulk of my education. My motivations for doing well in school were always to "get into a good school." Why did I want to get into a good school? To get a good job. Why did I want a good job? Ask Pink Floyd. The soft focus is way too dramatic.

So why didn't my heart skip a beat when I got accepted into Cornell? Why didn't USC sound exciting? What was wrong with me? For fortnights I was in a funk, and my thoughts were all glazed over by a feeling of pointlessness. THIS was what I had worked for all of these years. THIS was it. What is wrong with me? Here I stand, in the University of Texas at Austin, where they "as an institution focus on the greatest of all resources--the human intellect" (307). Isn't that what I want? Here I stand, with one foot in Plan II and the other in Architecture and my youthful beauty radiating out of every orifice (thanks partly to JCL). Why am I not excited?

These seem like rhetorical questions. They aren't.

So after thinking about it, I've realized that I lack unity, no matter how cheesy it sounds. I lack unity between my desires and my actions. I lack unity between wants and my needs. I lack unity between my measure of success and society's measure of success. I lack unity between my dreams and my abilities. Newman tells me that "Knowledge, which is desirable, though nothing come of it, as being itself a treasure, and sufficient remuneration of years of labour" (310). Newman tells me that "knowledge is not merely a means to something beyond it, or the preliminary of certain arts into which it naturally resolves, but an end sufficient to rest in and to pursue for its own sake" (306). Mmmm, I feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Until I realize that these ideals are far from being realized in our society (no unity, get it?). I'm not saying that it's hard to get a job with a liberal arts degree; in fact, I think that the degree can be very competitive for grad school or even a job. Still, we are not learning for the purpose of learning...it's not its own end. The job is. So what am I supposed to do?
Apparently this is a "sleekstalk" from the "Land of the Lost." Relevant?

I don't really want to become an "intellectual", nor do I like arranging little black squares in order to convey primary and secondary spaces. I just enjoy creating, whether its words, poems, music, drawings, or buildings (someday). When I feel like I'm learning stuff that will help me with this, I am excited to learn. I just want to create. Is this my motivation for education?

Ever since that day when I asked myself "why?", life has been fuzzy. Almost nothing can phase me, and very little can excite me. I realized that I have no idea why I've been doing anything. It is with this broken motivation that I enter UT Austin, and is the tone of the first chapter of college. Don't get me wrong, I'm a very happy person and I've been having a blast on my own. There are motivated, friendly, funny, and smart people surrounding me, and I can think of no other place I'd rather be. I just lack a unified vision for my being here. Maybe that is the purpose of a university: to unify me. To unify us.

The Buggy Whip

Change is something that is hard to cope with. Whether its changing from a hydrocarbon based economy or changing the style of glasses that one wears, it naturally creates feelings of uneasiness. Both Dana and Andrew's blogs deal with change and a departure from old methods. Although this can sometimes have negative consequences, I think the examples they discuss are not as harmful as they imply. So...

Dana, I'm sorry but I must disagree. In your blog you mention that modern forms of communication have taken away your ability to communicate. This paradox does not make sense to me, although it does bring up an interesting question: What is "communication?"

To you and to many people, "communication" seems to be limited to hand written or verbally exchanged words, and all other forms are inferior or less eloquent. However, the logic behind this assumption is fatally flawed; these methods are certainly two of the older methods of communication, but does this make them more qualified? If you think hard, you may remember that there was once a period in the history of the world when there were no telephones, or even telegrams (sorry that was kind of sassy). Long distance communication consisted of two methods--letters and face to face conversations. Now when the phone was invented, was humanity robbed of a certain skill or talent that they once had before? Yes, the pony express and strong walking legs. Still, the cost of losing these skills is greatly outweighed by the benefit of instant communication.

Now, after the invention of email and computers, people are complaining that we are losing the ability to physically write. This may be true, but this isn't a viable argument against using emails or word processors. When ball point pens and pencils were invented, I'm sure that there were people who complained about the tragedy of losing the ability to write with nibs. Does that mean we shouldn't have graduated to portable writing devices that don't need ink wells? My drum teacher was once complaining to me about the fact that marching bands still exist (they ruin a percussionist's technique, so he is very opposed to them). When he asked me why schools still have them, I replied, "They've always had marching bands." His response was, "Yeah, but we used to 'always' have buggy whips. Does that mean you should have a buggy whip?"

What he was trying to say is that traditions should not be confused with standards. Change is inevitable and should be embraced, whether it is in communication or education. Andrew's teachers defined us as the "sesame street" generation because we want our education to be entertaining. My response is, why shouldn't it be entertaining? I'm sure if I asked that teacher who his most memorable teacher was, it wouldn't be the professor who was able to "purify" his teachings by removing their entertainment value. Interactive material may be more memorable, and therefore a more efficient method of teaching. Professor Bump provides an excellent example in his essay "Left vs. Right Side of the Brain." While describing a website that combines Dante's writings with images of hell and audio clips of medieval Italian, he states that "Integrating the video clips and the voices in this way, with the images and texts, results in a more powerful and complete reading experience" (X 110). If this new method of experiencing the writings of Dante results in more engaged students, why shouldn't it become the new standard for education?

Instant communication is not only convenient; it is effective. In Stephen Coveys The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, he states that "Synergy works...it is effectiveness in an interdependent reality...[and] the development of unity and creativity with other human beings." (Covey 283) Although this probably isn't referring to the synergy of texting our friends about an attractive classmate, the principle is the same. If we are connected we can be more effective and accomplish more. "The Machine is Us/ing Us" isllustrates how truly connected we can become. The video may be somewhat contrived, but it does have an interesting point: the internet is a powerful force that has amazing potential. So, what if we lose some of the abilities we have now? When we're old we probably won't have the nicest cursive, but we'll be able to text 50 wpm. Just imagine texting that fast...

"Do u want 2 go 2 dinner at 4:30?"

I'll close by saying that I do think that handwritten letters are definitely more meaningful to receive. I think education is better if its fun but not pointless if it isn't. And if I couldn't text for a day, I wouldn't mind chatting with all of my friends by telephone. Still, I'm not going to get too upset if the standards I have now change.