Expectations vs Reality I : The Big Picture

I loved writing before I enjoyed reading.

It took me two years and a few cases of having nobody to play with during recess and lunchtime that I was able to read pictureless novels. Before a group of boys welcomed me into their group, a pile of books was readily made next to me, waiting to keep me company for the next hour on a mint concrete floor inside the toilet stalls. Back then, I heavily relied on reading books that had images to consider the book a worthwhile read (and to have a general idea of how the novel was progressing). I guess it was because the ten year old me was still coming to grips with understanding English as I was still heavily reliant on communicating in Cantonese. This constant translating back and forth between two languages as I read a novel was taxing, moreover made it difficult for me to set up the scenes the author has crafted through text.

The ratio between text and illustrations is a debatable matter whenever I pick up a book. Guiltily, till this day I still rely on book cover designs and titles to help me generate the atmosphere and the genre of the novel before I could immerse myself within the landscape of text. I guess the advantage of having a vision mapped out for us is that we don’t need to constantly use our creative endeavours to manifest the world within our head. Sure, it may be ideal to picture where the trees would be planted, the type of house the odd couple lives in or even the bell diver was able to walk into the house in his awkward helmet would be a fascinating picture to imagine, but I believe that we enjoy having the experience of seeing the actual image before our eyes is favoured more for it would allow us to ignite debates about how things should be. Quite ironic considering that there are two groups of people in this matter: those who prefer to read before watching a motion picture that translates the text or those who does it in the reverse order.

Then does that mean the ratio of text to describe architecture to the amount of images of the architecture become debatable as well?

As mentioned in my previous entries (The Narrator that Shaped Architecture; You Speak What?), sometimes the assumptions produced from drawings and photos can somewhat separate ourselves from analytical thinking. In my ‘Writing About Buildings’ elective run by Architecture Critic Naomi Stead, our discussion for our final class was the importance of having photography to support the published text. The main issue of this is that how much does the photo support the text, let alone would people ever read the publication if those photos never existed. Frankly, I find that photography can become quite detrimental to architecture or to any subject matter. Whenever I travel with my family, they are very precious about the types of photos that they take - the types of technology we only had back then (a film camera) we were more focused on visiting the landmark, getting the souvenir shot with ourselves in it and share it with the family. It is only when I started to approach experimental photography that I began to find it difficult to take photos that are rather stage or cliched, and constantly focused on taking the perfect photo for people draws us away from focusing what we have in front of our eyes. Of course, there would be time to times where I would be happy to take a “selfie” (cringeworthy photos) to just mark a brief moment for my family to know that I am alive on the other side of the world, however, it is quite sad for me to realise that my inability to describe the landscape through text or even value the actual moment is rather disappointing.

On top of that, the evolution of technology I found has somewhat lowered our tolerance in patience and the waiting game. During our discussions in class, my friend mentioned about how an architectural company was sued on their inability to produce a building that was identical to an architectural render. Having said, if the company used sketches instead of a falsely generated photo, would the end result be a complete different story?

Personally, as a highly stubborn and old fashioned architecture student (who did a lot of fine arts and installations before stepping into the world of computers and digital graphic) I enjoy a touch of imagination and exaggeration added to each render since I consider rendering to be a false advertising gimmick. However, because of this new age method, are we simply taking our priviledge of vision for granted? Let alone, is it because the fear of not knowing what we are investing in that makes us impatient and demanding to have a sudden end result in order to seek validation of our own judgement? Then I would like to challenge those clients about the idea of not being able to see. How would you envision your final product if you have to depend on your other senses? Would you be able to trust someone who has given you an enticing description of your investment despite not being able to picture the aesthetics of it?

More importantly, if we could compare back to the past before computer imagery was the deciding factor of the project, authentic sketches and physical models were the main narrative that dictated the outcomes of the projects. It is a pity how those outside of architecture sometimes forget that these crucial skills are quite neglected - the speed and pace of today’s society has taken over and competition is growing, thus we have slowly departed from things that we loved the most.

I don’t mean that those talents are on the brink of extinction yet it is the depreciation of those skills is growing exponentially. Therefore, there needs to be an exercise where we practice our description solely through words and allow others to exploit their own creativity to envision what our experience has been. This constant obsession of having the final result before we even reach the end result is becoming dangerous, moreover it is the constant search for a pleasing aesthetic rather than realising the internal workings of the architecture can also lead to consequences that may lead to regret.