Dear Trivian, Architects have tummy aches too
Maybe it's just that we can't really have fun and relax about it when our work will become “the backdrop of people's life”.
This is my fourth letter to Trivian. The previous one is here.
The field of sustainable home design can go one of two ways. The first is the natural building movement, traditionalist, conservative, suspicious of technology. This is where you get all the cob houses, the log Cabins, the earthships. Low-tech on steroids.
The second is the high-tech gang, where thermal efficiency is top priority. This is where my dear friends the passive houses are born, and where Polyurethane Insulated Concrete forms thrive. Gadget-land.
Which side will you be on in the war for sustainable supremacy?
We’re all human after all and the "narcissism of small differences" takes a bite. (You will notice I have a deep love for terms. My husband doesn't quite consider it a quality.)
This is the idea that we fight our neighbors much harder than we fight anyone else, because we see the small differences between us and them much more threatening than our differences with some distant foes like, say, real estate contractors. Or the Tatars.
So instead of finding middle ground and a practical way forward, we argue endlessly with the guys who are of the opinion that we will save the planet by hyper-insulation with non-recyclable materials instead of doing it, say by only using local reusable materials yet burning a wood stove all winter and putting on gloves inside on cold evenings. (All hypothetical opinions here, don't get all fussy about which is best)
The reality is this: whether with polyurethane or hemp, sheep wool or concrete, make it boxy, round or pineapple-shaped, there’s a common objective - making homes that are better for us and the environment. Right? Which is more that we can say about 99 percent of residential real-estate oriented architecture on the planet. So we might as well, in my opinion, get our differences aside and recognize that it honestly doesn't matter what infill your walls have. What matters is that you care and that you're doing your best.
So between these extremes of green building design my choices lie. Everyday I make tiny decisions one way or another. Every single tiny choice one way or the other weaves a canvas that is a final home project. A lot of the choices are ultimately the client’s. Of course, if one has a preference for a certain type of finish for his wall, who am I to say against? The architect's role becomes a tad ambiguous, floating between two extremes (again?): total control over the project by his narcissistic personality or surrender to the dictate of whoever shows you the money.
In mapping these hard lines of architectural design thinking, I have a vague feeling of starting to sound important, dear Trivian. Like architecture is the most serious and important job - no, profession - no, Art - in the world and how lucky you are to be sipping on my wisdom. A lot of architects I know have this tendency. I wonder why. Maybe it's just that we can't really have fun and relax about it when our work will become “the backdrop of people's lives”.
Over the last couple of months I have been taking over the management of my mom's meds, doctor visits, papers, housekeeping, food, etc. It was natural that I do so, in the context of things. And I was crushing it. I responded to every challenge quickly and efficiently. I was acing the test.
It was very important that I do so, to prove my love was real and that everything was under control.
God was I stressed. And serious. And important. And God were they all lucky to be sipping on my wisdom.
Then I let go. I gave her back some responsibilities, we found a balance. She’s sick, not gaga. She can handle her own stuff. The grip I was trying to have on things was clenching on my gut, tightening more and more as I myself was tightening more and more. It went way as if by magic the moment I loosened up my grip.
So maybe architects have this same claw holding onto their stomach as they grasp for control. Maybe every time a client's idea is outside of their zone, their tummies ache.
So thank you again for the wise advice. It’s obvious when it’s about others, but when it’s about oneself… Well. And what about doing the same loosening thing with architecture for a change? Out with the stress, in with the fun.
You might disagree about the stress thing. Maybe it’s just me.
Let me know,
Sincerely,
Jo
PS Look at this rammed earth complex
