ARC500.2: When in Rome...it's impossible to outdo what the Romans already did.

The day we spent in Rome was life-changing. Not only had my friend and I visited the Colosseum, Musei Vaticani, St. Peter's Basilica, and the Pantheon all in one day, I was also surprised to find my notoriously lazy self sketching like a maniac. The spaces themselves demanded more attention than just photographs, I think. I sketched like a madman until my fingers were numb, and until I felt pain in both legs from awkwardly standing for hours.

I can never wrap my head around ancient Roman architecture, and how many of the people who took over after the Roman Empire had disintegrated (the Saxons in London, for example) seemed to go back to antiquated approaches of building, because they were also too perplexed by Roman engineering to know what to do with these magnificent concrete structures.

A Pantheon-like space in the Musei Vaticani.

Gah! I can't tell what's relief and what's painting!

Bramante double helix staircase in the Musei Vaticani (Giuseppe Momo, 1932)

On towards St. Peter's Basilica. This sketch was particularly difficult because we started at the left side of the line wrapped around the basilica, and quickly moved across to the right (and therefore changed perspectives).

The colossal monstrosity that is St. Peter's Basilica. Seriously, you can't even begin to imagine the scale of this until you come up to it and realize the column bases are taller than you. (Michelangelo, Donato Bramante, Carlo Maderno, Gian Lorenzo Bernini, 1626)

And, even though it's larger than human comprehension, it's also easily the most ornate and detailed building you'll ever encounter.

Climbing the cupola. How weird that there are renovated stairs with modern dimensions...

The view from the top of the cupola. I'd like to believe that we were so high up we could tell that the Earth is round. (But most likely it was because of the camera's distortion.)

On another note, can someone tell me where I can get some of these Roman trees? They's so poofy and perfect for renderings.

Some sketches of the Pantheon. We saw the oculus change from its daylit mode to its night-time mode, which was fun.

Obligatory touristy photo to end this post. We didn't have enough time in Rome (we did all this in a day!) to get into the Colosseum, but even the exterior is awe-inspiring. I still can't believe they used to flood the stadium for naval battles. Is this real life?

ARC500.2: Cool House

Shortly after the Koolhaas lecture last night at the AA I was struck with an intensity of emotion that made my hand literally tremble as I tried (and failed to) take zoomed in iphone photos of Rem Koolhaas and his bffl Zaha Hadid. My pen was shaking as my handwriting deteriorated into a series of scrawls as I formulated a question about whether or not the Digital can be hybridized with humanity. He looked me straight in the eye and answered yes, that he thinks this process is already taking place. But I wonder then why there was humor in mocking people who have unquestioningly accepted technology into their lives. It seems that there is still the separate entity of "the digital," so much so that it is given character and identity as a collective thing outside of and completely juxtaposed to the human body. Therefore, when we see a Japanese person using a high-tech toilet that calculates our excrement patterns, we can't help but chuckle. But the truth is we have given birth to the Digital. It came from the human mind, yet we do not accept is as any way associated with humanity. The digital incites fear although its original intention was to surpass fear, the oldest human emotion associated with mortality.

More sustainable, more long-term thinking, more 50 and 100-year plans ahead with the help of the Digital--what's to say that this is the right solution? We are trying to command timelines far beyond the scope of the human body. The real control we have, if any, is over these individual bodies that fall back into the ground when we die. 

In a way, this era is trying to achieve monumentality through the command of time, because that is a far more effective and profound medium than space. Instead of just building big, we are building to last. We're trying to territorialize the future by using predictions and we're encroaching on the past through re-writing and redefining history. But what we perhaps forget is that Wren's St. Paul's Cathedral (~1675) did not command respect because of its sheer size, but through careful proportions and perspective. St. Mary-le-Bow (1680) draws attention to the stone steeple that marks its identity, but the majority of its functional space is quite modestly built in brick and hidden from its public sight lines. Jean Nouvel's One New Change (2010) is a building to look from, not at. In this way One New Change is given significance not by aggressively competing with St. Paul's, but by lavishing the latter and giving it alternative views, reflections and circulation. By lengthening the vertical view, Nouvel creates new meaning in going up and down a transparent elevator, so that it questions what sees and what is seen. These techniques show a thoughtfulness about the art of building that lasts--it is knowledge, not information, that can be eternal.