All of the worst architecture I have ever seen was designed with clear disregard and disdain of context. That context is what cartography provides to architecture.
The earliest portion of the conceptual design process, when the architecture begins to condense and precipitate from the nebula of possibilities, is when a map is to be rolled out, drawn upon, and drawn from. There is nowhere else for the architecture to acquire its roots, its belonging, its sense; without a loving and considerate study of context, on several scales, architects and designers produce nonsense. Even worse, we might come up with something glamorous and gorgeous that's still just as rootless as it would be even if it weren't shiny enough to seem like it's good, but since it is, it acquires influence. Pretty architecture is never really beautiful without thought given to its context. Bright, impressive, new, groundbreaking, it stands in the middle of a place that doesn't recognize it, and as tempting as it is to believe that it looks strange because innovation always faces resistance, it's really because it is silly and lacks elegance. Without cartography, architecture becomes presumptuous and overrated.
Architecture exists at the intersection of art and science, truly, of all arts and all sciences. It's related directly or indirectly to every other possible field of study, even those that no longer exist or have yet to arise. This is because it manifests from the consideration of human needs and wishes, in response to our environment and the nature of the physical world around us; in other words, it touches all sides of humanity's relationship with our world. It's an expression of humanity, a mark of human minds upon the divinely-established world we're operating in. So something of everything about us, in every time and place, goes into the places we build. Rational and functional, expressive and dynamic, architecture is always both science and art, whatever degree of success it may have. And two important things that science and art have in common are that they belong to humankind, and that they never exist in a vacuum. There is always context, whether it is acknowledged and considered or not.
That space of time when we know we're going to build something but little has yet been decided about what the architecture is going to be like, is when we must begin to consult the spatial and temporal context. This should continue throughout the design process, but it all begins with a designated time period devoted to research, reconnaissance, reflection, probably some ground-level exploring. Because designers need to know what is needed here, what this region has to offer, what this new architecture has the opportunity to offer that this place is in want of. If we skip this part the result is not just architecture that doesn't look traditional enough, because that is only sometimes a goal (and it is sometimes a goal). Rather, without a nuanced understanding of the area in which the new architecture will intervene, we will design something that has nothing to do with anything -- irrelevant at best, disrespectful at worst, and always failing to achieve true timelessness.
It's one thing to offer an appearance and functionality that's unlike anything the place has seen before. It's something else entirely for new architecture to land in a place like it dropped fully formed out of the sky, speaking a language that no one there knows, and take it upon itself to set the new standard of what shall be considered bright and beautiful going forward, at the expense of all that was already growing there. That's not innovation, that's colonialism. It's presumptuous and introspective, and if it's impressive enough, that failure to treasure and consult with the context can result in the more native existing architecture being more generally undervalued going forward. In this way, as a manifestation of human imagination, architecture has the ability to respect or disrespect, to honor or dishonor. In contrast, true innovation offers something new, perhaps unusual or even strange, that succeeds precisely because of its engagement with the actual current needs and hopes that exist in a specific place. The difference that it makes is grafted in as a congruous and beneficial evolution of what was there before, an intelligent, sensitive, and ingenious response to context.
If the design has not emerged from the study and creative treatment of its intended surroundings, then it has no real claim of belonging there; without context it could belong anywhere, and therefore it doesn't truly belong anywhere. There is no architect in the world who is such a star, such a master, that they have transcended the need to consider context. In fact, it's the only way to achieve true excellence in architecture. Great architecture is inspiring yet conscientious, singular yet native; it achieves timelessness not by ignoring but by both belonging to and transcending its time and place, so that it simultaneously belongs to a people and to all people.
Maps can be the best way of asking questions about context, because cartography is essentially a joint interview with urban planning and the natural environment. Architects and designers need to consult with the built and natural environments in order to know what we are doing when we intervene in them. We need ways of spatially visualizing the data we collect, in order to establish the relationships between the new architecture and the existing place. These are some of the key questions that we need to ask about context from the early stages of a project (by no means an exhaustive list).
What is adjacent to the site? What can you see from here, and from where can you see the site?
What kind of earth is under our feet? What infrastructure is in place under there?
What quality of air is around us? What regulations exist concerning height and sightlines?
What is our relationship to water in this place?
What is the latitude here? How exactly is the sun experienced on this site?
What is the texture and rhythm of the surrounding urban area? Are there lines and patterns that can be drawn upon? Is there a dance to be joined in with, that can help this architecture to fit in with its friends?
What materials are commonly used here, and why? Should something else become more common?
What colors and shapes, what features are characteristic of this place?
How are the buildings configured, and how do people get around? Is there anything inspiring, anything obstructive?
How do people arrive at this site? How do they find it?
What forms do private and public transportation take here?
What are the demographic and socioeconomic realities of this region?
What outcomes and disparities is this region experiencing with regard to health, education, nutrition, crime and justice, safety, housing, employment, wealth? What are the connections between these factors?
What environmental changes do older and younger people worry about, or hope for, in this place?
What architectural resources are within walking and driving distance to this place? What's missing?
What resources of clean energy can be harvested in particular abundance here?
What key historic events have physically shaped this place? What wounds have been inflicted that might still exist, and which people are most affected by them? What stories can architecture help tell?
What historic landmarks does the region have, and what is their significance? What is the spatial relationship between them and this site?
Does this region have a significant relationship with some other place, near or far? What cultures have interacted here to give shape to this place?
What factors are objectively unhealthy and unsafe here, and what are the causes? How can resources be added to help bridge gaps and break cycles?
Which areas have been honored or destroyed by the passage of time? Is there any need of restoration of local memory?
What has existed on this very site in the past century?
How will the new architecture affect the property value of nearby areas, and the success and wellbeing of people who live here?
What features and resources does this new architecture have the opportunity to provide, that would be different if it were to be built someplace else?
By addressing questions like these, maps and other kinds of data visualization can be key tools for forming a nuanced understanding of the place the architecture is going to be a part of. It would be a terrible shame to deprive ourselves of the possibilities, the opportunities, and the unique sources of inspiration that can only come from comprehensively studying the site in context. Part of the beauty of architecture, whether on the scale of a part of a building, an entire building, or urban planning, is that every place is part of something. In every location, history has led up to this point where the architecture intervenes and consequently becomes part of the history to come.
Through architecture we get to enter into a story that's been going on for a long time, and create a place that becomes part of that story, intimately involved with people's daily life hopefully for many years. The only way to take responsibility for our architecture's influence on its surroundings is to understand what we're coming into the middle of, and make a place that meaningfully engages and positively participates in community life. Just as architecture is never born in a vacuum, it cannot help but literally become part of the context for everything around it, part of a conversation and a narrative that connects us with one another.
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