The text presented here is not precisely as published by OUP, but modifications are minor. Illustrations are another matter. Where images used in the original book were not my copyright, I have in most cases been able to substitute links to sources on the web. See Image Acknowledgements.
Note. When this text was submitted as part of a PhD thesis in 1996, the Notes were greatly extended. As the reader may prefer to ignore them, they have been collected into separate web pages. They are a mixture of: simple page references; additional examples or quotations to justify generalisations; and some afterthoughts. As there are so many, the existence of a Note is indicated discreetly in the text below in the form [1.x]. (These are not links.) [Notes to Chapter 1.]
Overview.
The concept of 'aesthetics' adopted in this book is a broad one, and it is appropriate to provide a brief overview of its coverage before concentrating on particular aspects in subsequent chapters. This is particularly so because most engineers who have written on the subject have adopted a basically formalist position, concentrating their attention on the purely visual qualities of the structure, and seeing beauty as a matter of elegance, clean and clear outlines, and unity of form and finish.
This approach is based on well-established principles of 'formal analysis' developed in the worlds of art and architecture which permit the description and investigation of our reactions to visual stimuli. Applied to architecture, the concepts used include the proportion and scale of built forms and their elements, and impressions of visual 'weight' which may be related to texture and colour. The relationships between the elements are seen as giving rise to visual 'forces' of attraction or repulsion which have nothing to do with the forces engineers know. It thus becomes possible to analyse an assembly of elements for visual 'balance' and 'massing' (Figs 1.1, 3.4, and 8.3). For many observers, the way in which the eye scans the field of view leads to impressions of 'movement' in buildings and of 'rhythm' in repetitive features.
Fig. 1.1. A geometric composition of simple elements, carefully proportioned and balanced. West facade of Robert Blackwood Hall, Monash University, Clayton, Victoria. 1971. (Archt: Sir Roy Grounds. Struct. Engrs: Irwin Johnston and Ptnrs.)
Such concepts were developed intensively in the nineteenth century for the appreciation of painting and sculpture and have some shortcomings when applied to buildings. While they may appear strange, at first acquaintance, to those with no previous training in the appreciation of the visual arts, they offer a useful language for discussing the appearance of structures and permit insights which may heighten our enjoyment of them. An attraction of this type of analysis is that it can be related to the scientific study of perception. Impressions at this level are more likely to be shared by all observers than are the more complex types of response to be discussed later.
However, the experience of visiting a structure involves much more than visual impressions. The senses of smell, touch, and hearing may have a strong influence on our feelings towards buildings, either through a direct sense of pleasure or distaste, or by kindling memories of former experiences. Buildings such as libraries, hospitals, and wine cellars have characteristic smells. Though we may not often touch the surfaces of walls, we may be very conscious of what it would be like to do so. Acoustics are also important, and cathedrals provide an example of special and influential reverberation characteristics. We also have a sense which indicates how the parts of our body are positioned at any moment, and which allows us to estimate our present location in terms of our previous movements. This comes into play as we move from one room to another, climb complex staircases, or cross an uneven floor.
Our response to architecture may also involve emotions such as awe, fear, and claustrophobia. Many people are gratified by the apparent conquest of gravity implied by the erection of tall or wide-spanning structures. It is believed that visual stimuli may induce specific states of mind. Symmetry in built form, and an emphasis on horizontal lines, are associated with calm and repose. Vertical emphasis and asymmetry are associated with striving and disorder. Evidence for the validity of these perceptions is produced from literature, where spires and towers 'soar' and arches 'leap'; and from everyday language in which people attain 'high' positions in an organization, 'come out on top' or 'let go' and 'collapse'. This is perhaps because our emotions are so closely linked to the state of our musculo-skeletal systems. We speak readily of 'stress', 'strain', and 'tension' in everyday life, and of feeling a 'weight on our shoulders'. As a result, it has been suggested that we identify ourselves with buildings and thus empathize with a column subjected to crushing weight, or share the 'depression' of a squat, ugly building (Fig. 1.2).
Fig. 1.2. Fascination with the ungainly. Provident Life and Trust Co. building, Philadelphia. 1879. (Archt: Frank Furness.) Photo: Encyclopedia Britannica.
Architects and engineers may gain additional pleasure in appreciating the quality of functional planning or the choice of structural form. (These are not always evident even to the trained observer.) If we recognize a particularly novel or daring structural solution we are able to appreciate the designer's ability to step outside the limits of traditional conceptions. If we know something of architectural history we can take pleasure in our ability to categorize or accurately date a building, or to recognize that a particular element, perhaps a doorway, is a copy or parody of an original to be found on a building of an earlier period.
The fact that such responses depend on the personality, experiences, and training of the observer means that they are much more difficult to predict and manipulate than those related to formal analysis. It also means that they have much greater importance for the individual and therefore demand the attention of designers who care about the effect of their structures on the general public.
The processes of design and appreciation in the fine arts are often seen as a sort of communication involving a 'language' of built form. The analogy is used in several ways. In fine art, the physical characteristics of the materials used greatly influence the way in which moods or impressions may be conveyed. The effect can be seen in the difference between a statue fashioned in clay, and one cast in bronze [1.1]. A similar diversity may be seen in the world of built form between the bulkiness of mass concrete and the lightness of skeletal steel. In a somewhat different way the forms of engineering structures are governed by the strength and stiffness of their constituent materials and the way in which members may be fabricated and connected. Thus a further analogy has been drawn between structural design and the 'rules' of grammar concerning the combination of words in spoken language. In Classical architecture similar 'rules', or conventions, are considered to govern the arrangement of elements such as columns, doors, windows, and pediments. Commentators may thus write of 'the language of classical architecture' and 'the language of concrete'.
A third type of analogy relates to the more direct 'meanings' derived by habit and convention from direct association. Thus a classical colonnade and pediment may denote a building of public importance: a town hall, a museum, or a church. For much of this century, metal truss roofs were used mainly in utilitarian buildings and acquired the inferior status of anything associated with industry. This 'meaning' was transferred to space frames when they were first introduced, and it was some time before architects were able to persuade clients that they could be used in areas such as the foyers of international hotels, and in department stores. Now, suitably clad in gold and silver, they have now acquired connotations of glamour. Making use of similar associations designers may play with forms or elements such as tents, or spires, which have a common significance to themselves and to observers. In this way they are able to kindle the emotions or invoke analytical responses as referred to in the previous section. Such communication has also been compared with language. Yet deeper meanings may be transmitted as a result of subconscious associations. Shell structures may be seen as womb-like. Pitched roofs are important to many as a symbol of 'shelter' and 'security'. The ability to recognize these influences is obviously dependent on the willingness of observers to listen to the prompting of the subconscious.
Moral values are often applied in the appreciation of built form. They may be expressed as a demand for 'honesty' in design: an insistence that appearances should reflect the realities of construction, or in a strong distaste for ornament and perceived extravagance. All designers are committed to maximizing the benefit-to-cost ratio of a project, but the values that the engineer applies to the equation differ from those of the architect and thus define a distinct moral stance. In the nineteenth century, religious and political affiliations played a large part in the 'battle of the styles' between the advocates of gothic and classical precedents. Doctrinal politics played a large part in discussions concerning architectural styles during the period before World War II. At a broader level, architecture has been interpreted as an expression of the power of autocracies and of the alienation of ordinary people. It has been seen as an antidote to the problems of industrial society, offering a vision of a perfect future society.
Again, such perceptions are very dependent on early experiences, education, social milieu, and nationality. At a superficial level, preferences tend to form a consistent pattern. People whose politics are to the right of centre are often classicists and favour 'redundancy' (such as ornament) in art while those to the left are often functionalists who give priority to efficiency and cost-effectiveness. Examined in depth, the situation appears more complex, as is discussed in Chapter 6. However, the classicist's insistence that visual design should conform to established rules and traditions does conflict with the 'clean slate' approach and innate functionalism of the engineer, and has important implications for our interaction with architects.
In the philosophy of architecture, these value systems have been given labels such as Functionalism, Rationalism, Romanticism, Modernism, and Post-modernism. Like all categorizations, they are blurred and arbitrary, and many architects object to their work being 'pigeon-holed' in this manner. Used wisely, however, these labels are useful aids to analysis and discussion.
A major theme in 'aesthetics' is the search for means to reduce the subjectivity of discussion. One school of thought sees an answer in the limiting of the range of objects to which aesthetic theory may be applied. Some commentators wish to exclude objects which have a practical purpose, and some define the 'aesthetic object' so narrowly that they exclude beauty in nature [1.2]. A quite different school of thought hopes that the analysis of response may be placed on a scientific footing by patient investigation of the psychology of perception. The effect of these attitudes on the theory of appreciation of built form is referred to throughout the book. Of particular relevance here is the distinction often made between 'architecture' and what is referred to as 'mere building'. This would exclude utilitarian buildings and industrial structures from consideration. The major impediment to objectivity - the observer's personal contribution to the process of perception - also forms a central theme.
The relevance of aesthetics to practical design.
Professional benefits.
Public interest in both the built and the natural environment nowadays ensures that 'aesthetics' and architectural philosophy (briefly, the discussion of the nature and aims of architecture) greatly affect the work of the structural engineer. The engineering periodicals contain constant references to cases in which clients, owners, designers, and public interest groups have seen aesthetics as an important factor in the choice of built form for engineering projects. [1.3] These include dams, power stations, bridges, river barriers, pit-head frames, and nuclear research facilities. When industrial zones occur on the edges of towns, there is strong pressure from the municipality for architectural treatment. French 'colour consultants' have been particularly active in designing colour schemes for equipment and storage facilities in dockyards and oil refineries. [1.4] There are normally a number of solutions to any engineering problem which are equally satisfactory from a technical and economic point of view and, as Oscar Faber noted (1945), "…most engineering designs for important structures are ultimately chosen on their aesthetic merits…". [1.5]
Design engineers will find a knowledge of the concepts and terminology of aesthetics to be useful in presenting controversial projects to clients, bureaucrats, municipal councillors, or public interest groups and in helping them to choose between proposed alternatives.
Aesthetics matters more to the users of a building than is often imagined. Apart from providing a general feeling of well-being it can result in increased productivity in employees. Manufacturers and operators of construction equipment report that plant which looks good is better cared for and maintained, with colour being an important factor.[1.6]
Aesthetics is particularly important in the design of bridges, but these have not been treated in this book as a distinct category because the subject has been so thoroughly discussed elsewhere.[1.7]
Public benefits.
Arnheim, whose criticism of architecture is based on the psychology of perception, maintains that the need for a sense of mental balance and visual harmony are felt in more or less the same way as needs for warmth and shelter [1.8]. Although people may be unable to express their finer feelings about their surroundings they are still deeply affected by them. Few engineers would oppose the view that we have a public duty to make the built environment as agreeable as is practicable, although there might be debate about what is economically feasible. The preferences of the majority will be different from those of people who have had an education in aesthetics and architectural philosophy, and it is important to cater for both groups. In recent times, architects have been exploring ways of doing this.
Improvement in the working of the design team.
Structural engineers take responsibility for the appearance of many bridges and industrial structures. Inspired by the work of designers like Nervi (Figs 1.3 and 3.23) and Calatrava [1.9] they may feel an urge to extend their responsibility into the area of building design. That such a development would antagonize the architectural profession is perhaps less important than that the engineer runs a high risk of being unsuccessful. Those who wish to take this approach should know something of the theory of the appreciation of built form, unless they subscribe to the functionalist view that extreme honesty and efficiency in design will inevitably produce a beautiful object. Even then, it is important that they have studied the relevant arguments concerning this philosophy.
Fig. 1.3. Valid engineering structure expressed with a sure sense of sculpture. Palazzetto dello Sport, Rome. 1957. (Struct. Engr: Pier Luigi Nervi. Archt: Annibale Vitelozzi.) See also Fig. 3.23. [Photo Bluffton.]
When architects are employed to advise on the appearance of industrial structures, it is of great importance that design engineers be able to understand and relate to their suggestions. A more fundamental position was adopted by Faber in his lecture, which was expressed so forcefully that it is worth quoting at length.
"A beautiful structure does not mean an ordinary structure (whatever that may be) with applied ornament added to it. It is no use saying you will design your structure and then hand it over to somebody else to add the architectural features or to apply the suitable ornament which will convert it from a plain into a beautiful structure. Beauty arises from the essential lines, the fitness, the harmony, and so on of a structure, which cannot be superimposed but which either are or are not in the original conception … From this it is clear that the treatment from the aesthetic aspect cannot be delegated without also delegating the whole basic design … If the engineer is not interested in the aesthetic side, the engineer cannot be the author of the basic design." [1.10]
In most building design projects, structural engineers act as specialist consultants to architects and are contractually one rung down the hierarchy. The demands placed on them in the interests of aesthetics and architectural philosophy define the problems set for the engineers and limit their responses. There is strong pressure from architects and often from clients to produce a building with a distinct architectural character which will attract critical acclaim and impress prospective tenants or project some desired corporate image. Engineers may decide that these are matters entirely outside their area of competence and simply attempt to provide whatever structural form and load-bearing capacity the architect demands. Many enjoy the resulting challenge to their ingenuity and analytical skills. However, the form demanded may be extremely expensive or impossible to construct. Then must follow a period of interaction which often involves spirited conflict between the demands of the architect and the ability and willingness of the engineer to meet them [1.11]. If the engineer has some knowledge of aesthetics and architectural principles this process is likely to be happier and more productive.
There has been a marked change in architectural outlook in the last two decades as the concern of the Modern Movement with its own interpretation of 'functionalism' has given way to an interest in historical reference, and particularly in 'meaning' and symbolism in architecture. These trends are often lumped under the heading of Post-modernism. Despite the dubious validity of Modern Movement 'functionalism', engineers at least felt they were speaking the same language. Now, if they wish to co-operate with or merely comprehend Post-modern architects, they will need to learn the concepts and terminology which these architects employ in defining and expressing their ideals (see, for example, Jencks 1987).
Difficulties facing the technologist.
Differences in perception.
Someone with a background in science or technology faces certain difficulties in approaching the subject matter of this book. Our habits of perception, our value systems, and our use of language differ from those of the architects, art historians, and critics who have developed the subject. Most of these differences will appear naturally in the text, but a few examples may be given at this point.
Technologists seem less likely than artists and architects to have the habit of 'scanning' a scene to form a general impression. It has been suggested that engineers have a greater interest in detail than architects (Armstrong and Jack 1970). With our training in statics we are also more likely to see beauty in the equilibrium (or 'repose') of a suspension bridge than in the 'sweeping lines' which are so attractive to others. As a result, we may find it difficult to share perceptions of 'movement' and 'rhythm' in buildings (Figs 3.11 and 3.21).
Writers on aesthetics often impose a preconceived order on what they see. Charlton feels it is "natural to see in a rectangle whose sides are in the ratio of two to one, the squares which are its halves". [1.12] People who are visually oriented tend to extend the length of lines in their imagination and to 'develop', in the mathematical sense, linear members lying in a plane into the full surfaces which contain them. Arnheim seems to prefer to see the Eiffel Tower as having outer 'surfaces' defined by the members which lie in their planes, rather than the complex reality of its individual elements.
Sometimes the visual 'forces' described are more powerful than those with which engineers must contend. If two tall towers are built close together, Smith sees them as "unstable" because they have a tendency to "push each other apart". [1.13] The type of box-like apartment block which has an open ground floor and is perched on slender columns (Fig. 1.4) forms a powerful image for many analysts. Arnheim writes of one "floating like an anchored balloon". [1.14] Such imagery does not come easily to an engineer who has added up the dead load of a building and seen blocks of concrete burst in the testing machine. The difference in perception of 'force' and 'weight' thus forms a major stumbling block to our understanding of visual analysis, but once an engineer has learned to share this type of visual analysis the enriched experience will be made more piquant by the conflict between these two modes of perception.
Fig. 1.4. Monolith 'floating' on unobtrusive support. Swiss Students Hostel (Pavillon Suisse), University of Paris. 1932. (Archt: Le Corbusier.) [Photo AGRAM. Enter site and look under 'Le Corbusier' for 'Pavillon Suisse'.]
Differences in language.
Contrasting perceptions are reflected in contrasting terminology. 'Weight' may be a visual property and 'dynamic forces' may arise between stationary rectangles. The words 'structure' and 'design' may refer to the arrangement of visual elements in a facade. Arnheim states that "one function of a row of columns is to spell out the dynamic character of walls, which are devoid of expression when their surface is empty and therefore unstructural." [1.15] (Compare Fig. 1.5 and Fig. 1.6.)
Fig. 1.5. Renaissance facade articulated with pilasters. Palazzo Rucellai, Florence. 1451. (Archt: Leone Battista Alberti.) [Photo archINFORM.]
Fig. 1.6. Heavily rusticated Renaissance facade without pilasters. Palazzo Strozzi, Florence. 1507. (Archt: Benedetto da Maiano.) [Photo Firenze.]
For good reason, critics of architecture often use words and concepts which are less clearly defined than those of technology and science. They are often more interested in the 'resonances' or associations sparked by words than in their relevance to a single, clearly defined concept. They are more free in their use of analogies between concepts and forms. These stratagems are recognized in psychology and design theory as key elements in creative thinking and are employed by engineers and architects in the early stages of project design. [1.16] However, it does require a special effort to switch to this mode of thinking from those associated with painstaking analysis and checking of detail.
Descriptions of buildings are often lyrical. Ackerman describes the vestibule of Michelangelo's 'Laurentian Library' (Fig. 1.7), a favourite subject of art historians and critics, in the following terms:
"Continuity in the design of the wall heightens the shocking effect of the stairway, which pours out into the vestibule as an alien intruder … There is, after all, a dramatic if not a formal harmony between the stairway and the walls, because both conspire by their aggressiveness against the observer's ease: the wall planes, emerging forward from the columns, seem to exert inward pressure on the confined space in response to the outward pressure of the stairs." [1.17]
Fig. 1.7. 'Flowing' marble. Entrance to the library of the Monastery of San Lorenzo, Florence ('Laurentian Library'). 1557. (Archt: Michelangelo Buonarroti.) [Photo Museums of Florence. See views of the staircase.]
Practising architects may use similar language as the theorists, particularly when making presentations to clients. This may lead to incomprehension and even hostility on the part of their audience. As Charles Moore has admitted: "Architects' words seem to rile people".[1.18]
Differing values.
The extensive differences in the values of engineers and architects have been discussed elsewhere (Holgate 1986a). Engineers' attitudes towards aesthetics are affected by our parsimony, our interest in maximizing efficiency, and our concern for elegance in form and in design solutions. All these contribute to a general aversion to ornament. Engineers and functionalist architects are often criticized for being 'alienated' from normal human discourse because we see buildings mainly as a means to an end and neglect the opportunity they afford for symbolism and the expression of sentiment. [1.19] It is true that we find it difficult to share the viewpoint of someone who lives in a glass box because it appeals to his aesthetic sense, but this is simply because our feelings and sensitivities are directed elsewhere. [1.20]
Disdain for the superficiality and transience of fashion and style is common to most technologists. It is the aim of the dedicated Functionalist to do away with these and allow the appearance of an object to be governed solely by the 'laws' of technology and economics as applied to pre-defined needs. However, these constraints are rarely sufficient to define completely the form of an object. The majority of architects will take the opportunity to play on the basic form and will see buildings as symbols conveying a range of meanings. Users will also take pleasure in novelty and decoration and will often apply it to the bare forms of modernist architecture to provide a sense of identity.[1.21] This is something which the pragmatic designer must accept and learn to understand.
In any era, there is a tendency for forms and design solutions to have much in common. Style in this sense is heavily influenced by the level of available technology, but also has much to do with the limitations of the human mind in coping with the complexity of the design process. Styles and fashions of this type have been identified even in the preferences of structural engineers at various times for concrete or steel in multi-storey buildings, and for box-girder or cable-stayed bridges.[1.22]
The value of the engineer's approach.
Engineers have made, and continue to make, a positive contribution to the world of art and architecture. There are often periods in history when artists and architects feel that they have reached an impasse in the development of their ideals and theories. On such occasions technology is one of the sources to which they turn for inspiration. In the nineteenth century the work of leading engineers was seen as offering a valid and dynamic alternative to an unsustainable preoccupation with classical and gothic prototypes. In the 1920s Le Corbusier praised engineers for producing structures such as grain silos, admiring their primary geometric forms. In the 1960s engineers were seen as realizing the dreams of many architectural thinkers in massive and sometimes mobile structures such as those at the Kennedy Space Centre. Currently [1990] co-operation between architects and engineers is producing a new generation of exciting lightweight structures whose forms have not yet been properly considered in the literature of architectural aesthetics.[1.23]
Image Acknowledgements. Linked images, Chapter 1.
AGRAM. (Rein Saariste.) Link.
archINFORM. Link.
Encyclopedia Britannica. Link.
Florence (Firenze). Link.
Museums in Florence. Link.
Sullivan (Prof. Mary Ann), Bluffton College. Link.
Aesthetics of built form navigation:
[Contents]
[References]
[Preface.]
[Notes to Chapter 1]
[Chapter 2.]
Site navigation:
[The art in structural design.]
[Papers.]
[Work of Jörg Schlaich.]
[John Monash's early engineering.]