Alan Holgate.
The art in structural design:
an introduction and source book.
Oxford University Press, 1986.

Chapter 6. Architects, architecture, and aesthetics.

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 coloured images on the web.

When this text was submitted as part of a PhD thesis in 1996, the Notes were greatly extended. Most readers may prefer to ignore them. They have been collected at the end of each chapter, with internal links leading to them and back to the text. They are a mixture of: simple page references; additional examples or quotations to justify generalisations; and some afterthoughts.

Relevance to the work of the structural engineer.

It is perhaps difficult for an engineering student to see why he or she should take an interest in architects, architecture and aesthetics. The reason is that the majority of structural engineers in the consulting field, and many of those in government and 'package deal' enterprizes, work on buildings or other structures with a considerable architectural component. It is the architect who is responsible for the functional planning of dwellings and office buildings and, more frequently these days, of industrial buildings. In these cases, the architect is usually the leader of the design team. Thus as we have seen in the case-study of the Sydney Opera House, the personality, attitudes and aims of an architect may have an enormous impact on the quantity and difficulty of the work that is required of the structural engineer.

Furthermore, the increased political power of community groups concerned with the environment has made it essential that executive engineers give careful consideration to the aesthetics of prominent structures and that they be able to argue the aesthetic merits of the scheme in public debate. In many cases they may not have the services of an architect to assist them in this.

The interaction between architect and engineer should not be a one-way process. As a non-specialist in the field of structures, the architect is often unsure, during the initial stages of design, of the potential of different forms of construction and of different structural systems. Many architects complain that structural engineers are too willing to accept the form of the building as initially proposed by the architect and content to simply 'make it stand up' by choosing suitable sizes for the members. These architects would prefer a more positive contribution in which the engineer presents them, at least conceptually, with a range of structural options or is willing to suggest modifications which are structurally feasible and will enhance the effects for which the architect is striving.

Unfortunately, there are a number of factors which make it difficult to achieve an ideal interaction between architects and engineers. Of all the professionals with whom the structural engineer has to work, the architect is probably the one he finds hardest to understand. The mechanical and electrical engineer speak the same language and have the same basic philosophy. Even the financier and developer have a quantitatively defined objective which the engineer can easily comprehend. The lawyers like to order experience and set it down in a form which looks superficially much like an engineering specification, or a code of practice.

In contrast, the architect's methods and objectives appear quite nebulous. When asked the reasons for the demands and restrictions which he places on the engineer he often seems unwilling or unable to rationalize them. The reaction of even the more sympathetic engineers is characterized by Arup's enigmatic pronouncement:

"The engineer's chief headaches are created by the Architect for possibly perfectly good reasons." [Note 1.]

It is generally accepted that the disciplines of engineering and architecture attract people with differing personalities; that these differences are reinforced by traditional professional training; and that they are then maintained by the fairly rigid institutionalized structure of the professions. Engineers and architects even speak different languages. The words 'design', 'function', 'economy' and even 'structure' may have quite different meanings for each, depending on the context in which they are used. Added to this is the fact that each is concerned, within the design team, in looking after different aspects of the same task and the requirements of, say, aesthetics may conflict with those of structural efficiency. Tension is almost bound to arise during the process of resolving these clashes.

Some practitioners deny that any problem exists, but as we shall see in later sections, the topic is so often raised in the literature, not only in the English-speaking world, that it must be a matter of concern to a great many people. A different, and quite valid viewpoint, is that a certain degree of friction provides a healthy and necessary stimulus to creative design. This is true as long as the debate contains positive criticism and proposals which improve the design while respecting the competence and responsibilities of the other professionals. Unfortunately it sometimes degenerates into mere bickering and, worse, to retreat behind closed doors and hostile silences. One of the most common causes of misunderstanding, as implied above, is an ignorance of the abilities of the other members of the design team and of the pressures which are placed on them by their different responsibilities. The next chapter is therefore devoted to a brief resume of the duties of the architect and the way in which he tackles them.

If the engineer is to interact positively with the architect in the initial stages of conception of form it is desirable that he should have a rudimentary knowledge of architectural philosophy so that what he proposes is likely to be in keeping with the architect's general aims. This is quite a tall order because it implies that the engineer should be able to categorize the ideas of the individual architect with whom he happens to be working, and to do so in terms of a vast literature and a continuing and lively debate. Fortunately, two factors make this somewhat easier than might at first sight appear. A number of basic motifs constantly reappear throughout the history of architecture such as the dichotomy between elegant simplicity and messy complexity and that between a concern for functionality and a self-consciously artistic expressionism. If the engineer can identify such basic themes in the thinking of the architect he can considerably improve his chances of making a positive contribution. The other saving factor is that no creative architect will fit exactly into any given category. His response to a project is bound to be complex and may even include mutually contradictory facets. His philosophy will change over the years and he may even design different buildings in different modes concurrently. Thus if the proposals of the engineer correspond only roughly with the general thinking of the architect there should be potential for fruitful interaction.

A brief outline of the history of architecture, concentrating on recent developments is provided later in this chapter, together with a brief review of some of the major themes of architectural philosophy.

All this begs the question of whether the engineer should indeed co-operate with the architect if he is completely unsympathetic to the other's approach. Some views on this are included in later Chapters. An individual consultant has the option of refusing the brief, but an employee in a large private consultancy or a government agency may be obliged to work with the architect as best he can.

An interest in aesthetics is of even wider use to the Engineer than an interest in architectural philosophy. Engineers are generally content to leave the planning of buildings to the architect, even when they cannot immediately see the reasons for his more challenging demands on their skill. It is when he makes demands on them in order to achieve a particular visual effect that engineers are liable to feel mystified or resentful and to talk scornfully of the 'whims' of the architect.

There have always been some engineers who have thought about the appearance of their structures but until recently too many have considered good aesthetics an expensive luxury. It is significant that, as recently as 1973, an author should feel the need to entitle his paper Appearance Matters. [Note 2.]

However, it is now common for reports in engineering journals to include some comment on the aesthetics of new structures. Much of the impetus for this increased interest in appearance is due to the sensitivity of the modern public to projects which are likely to have a large impact on the visual environment. Bridges are often prominent features, particularly when they cross over valleys. When a bridge was proposed to carry a highway across a scenic canyon in Colorado the authorities built a full-scale in-situ plywood mock-up of sections of the bridge to allow the public to visualize the effect. Computer illustrations and artist's renderings were also provided. [Note 3.]

It is clear that engineers as well as architects are prepared to spend money and go to considerable trouble in order to achieve a satisfactory appearance, and in recent years the power of the public and of government to force them to do so has been strengthened. [Note 4.] It is therefore important for the structural engineer to be able to discuss principles of aesthetics with members of the public, government agencies and architects.

The theory of aesthetics is another vast field, being a branch of philosophy. The brief treatment provided in Chapter 12 is necessarily limited to the more simple aspects, with an emphasis on practical applicability. An engineer who devotes even a small effort to the study of this subject will soon find that his appreciation of his visual environment is greatly increased and will soon understand how easy it is for the architect to lose touch with the undiscerning layman.

Notes.

Note 1. From an article in the Times newspaper, quoted in New Civil Engineer 1 Jan 1978, p.46. [Return.]

Note 2. North, B.H. Concrete May 1973, pp.18-23. Also relevant are the report on the "visual disaster" of the Gravely Hill Interchange, New Civil Engineer, NCE June 1972, pp.38-9, and criticism of the Lyne Bridge, Consulting Engineer, Mar. 1979, p.7. [Return.]

Note 3. Examples relevant to this paragraph were:
Colorado Highway Bridge. (Engineering News Record, 5 Jan. 1978, p.15.)
Tay Road Bridge. (Tay Road Bridge Joint Board 1966.)
Tyne Metro. (Civil Engineering UK, Nov. 1977, pp.31-5.)
Electrostatic Particle Accelerator. (New Civil Engineer, 5 May 1977, pp.24-5.)
Mosel Valley Bridge. (Civil Engineering - ASCE, April 1975, pp.60-64.)
See also Steinborn (1970) and Linse and Wössner (1978), Klus and Wortley (1973) and Percey (1975).
Planning permission for the particle accelerator, which was situated on a prominent ridge in open country, was obtained only after a public enquiry. Strenuous efforts were made to ensure a good appearance. The New Civil Engineer describes the result as follows: "an unusual structure with slipforming complicated by incompatible aesthetic and practical requirements ... the result seems to repay the effort of those involved and the architect's insistence that the method be adopted despite unknowns and expected difficulties."
At the Mosel Valley, the decision to span the valley was due to a desire to avoid the deep cuttings which would have resulted from taking the autobahn across the valley floor. The next consideration was to interfere as little as possible with views along the valley by keeping the construction as slender as possinle and keeping the number of piers to a minimum. An arch was contemplated, but was rejected because of the geometry of the valley cross-section, the poor soil conditions, and the problems of erection. Six pier-and-beam solutions were considered in detail, of which the cheapest proved to be a prestressed concrete box girder on piers, with an average span of 78m. However, the more expensive alternative of a steel girder with an average span of 156m was adopted because it was more attractive environmentally. The report in Civil Engineering - ASCE continues: "the main span of 219m crosses the river, railway, and motorway ... This big span emphasizes the impression of a gate to the Mosel valley. From here the spans decrease in proportion with their height above ground so the ration is similar to that of the main span. This is a common aesthetic consideration in German bridge design. With decreasing span the depth of the girder also decreases, again for aesthetic reasons rather than economic." [Return.]

Note 4. Confirmation appears in the sources listed above and in Grimm (1975). [Return.]

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