One of the “big questions” that the field of architecture is constantly grappling with is the difference between Architecture (with a big ‘A’) and architecture (with a little ‘a’). I was introduced to this debate in my first undergraduate architecture studio at Connecticut College when my professor, Bill Pollack, broke down his view. In his eyes (I’m paraphrasing here), architecture encompasses the more mundane structures that we interact with in our everyday life, what he called “strip mall architecture”. Architecture with a big ‘A’ was reserved for the exciting structures, buildings that reflect our values and end up on the covers of magazines.
Since being introduced to this debate, I have grappled with where I stand on the issue, and where I place it within the larger field of architecture. In my first semester of graduate school, Henri de Hahn, my architectural history professor, asked us to distill our thoughts in a paper where we compared the difference between building and architecture. The following paper, titled “Architecture ≥ Building”, reflects my inevitably naive thoughts based on my relatively young understanding of the field of architecture.
Architecture ≥ Building
What is the difference between a building and architecture? In trying to answer a question like this, it is typical to first look at the definitions of these words and seek potential differences from which to build an argument. Complicating this question are the different applications of both of these words. Building as a noun refers to a completed structure, but as a verb refers to the act of constructing something. Likewise, architecture can be interpreted as either a completed work or the act of designing. Some even consider drawings themselves as architecture.
According to the Merriam Webster Dictionary, building as a noun is defined as “a usually roofed and walled structure built for permanent use” and “the art or business of assembling materials into a structure.” As a verb however, building is “to form by ordering and uniting materials by gradual means into a composite whole.” Architecture as a noun is defined as “a unifying or coherent form or structure” and a “formation or construction resulting from or as if from a conscious act.” Architecture is also “the art or practice of designing and building structures and especially habitable ones.”
Because of these different meanings, one could create a matrix of different potential ways to go about answering this question. At first, one might compare architectural design and building as processes. Under this question, a simple analysis looking at the different types of work completed during these two stages of construction would result in an informative, although admittedly dry essay. On the other hand, there is a controversial version of this question that asks for the difference between building and architecture as nouns. As an educational exercise for first year architecture students, it's likely that the most controversial possible combination here is employed as a catalyst for our emerging intellectual opinions.
Unfortunately, my answer to this question of architecture and building as nouns isn’t very juicy. I tend to think the difference between the two is minimal. As I contemplate this question, I’m finding myself comparing the two ideas to the rules of a square and rectangle. A square always fits the definition of a rectangle, but only a specific rectangle can fit the definition of a square. As I understand this question, a building will always fit the definition of architecture, but architecture doesn’t necessarily have to fit the definition of a building.
This question of building and architecture references the debate between Architecture (with a capital “A”) versus architecture (with a lowercase “a”). I have never found this debate particularly productive. Entertaining this question enables the pretentious nature of architects by creating an unnecessary dichotomy among buildings and leads to the notion that professionally licensed architects are the only ones who can create architecture. I think this is a mistake. If I fully understand the heart of this question, it appears to be centered around the notion of quality. If quality is what architects are trying to measure in this debate, it would be more productive to talk about the specific aspects of buildings that result in good or bad outcomes for the end users. We might also debate why certain factors are more important than others in determining quality. For example, is good architecture required to evoke certain feelings, attain certain aesthetic outcomes, fulfill a functional role, promote environmental ideals, or some combination of these? What about bad architecture? Do typical gas stations have to be defined as bad architecture simply because we don’t enjoy looking at them? Can we overlook the essential role they play in powering our everyday lives? Should we discount the importance of gas station architecture just because we tend to think it’s ugly?
As I write this essay, I’m sitting in the ground floor cafe of Virginia Tech’s Newman Library and I can’t help but notice my answer to this question staring me in the face. I have had the opportunity to explore many libraries in my lifetime, ranging from the massive Library of Congress complex in Washington to the one room public library dubbed “The Borough Branch” in Eagles Mere, PA. I think it’s safe to say that most architects who subscribe to this debate would classify the Library of Congress as capital “A” Architecture. I think it’s also safe to say that those same architects would classify the Borough Branch as lowercase “a” architecture. But where is the line drawn between these two buildings? I believe it is impossible to draw this line. Libraries are the heart of any community. They house intellectual life, foster dialogue, provide spaces for children to grow, and so much more. It would be degrading to the field of architecture to suggest that any library, no matter how big, attractive or functional, could not be classified as architecture, period.
The Borough Branch in Eagles Mere, PA, is a great example of my point. Situated in a village of approximately 120 full time residents, it is a very modest building located next to the town hall. From the outside, there isn’t much to see. But on the inside, the entire essence of this small community emerges. Started as a lending library in the 1980’s, it has evolved into a community staple, a favorite gathering spot providing comfy chairs, free wifi, a computer, printer, and board games. I don’t believe that it is the provision of these services that classify this building as architecture, but rather the democratic decisions that led to providing a space for them. Community demand and input first catalyzed this building and continues to shape its influence today. That isn’t to say this building is perfect, far from it. A lack of funding has plagued its physical structure in recent years. My point is that buildings, and more broadly architecture, embody these deliberate choices and reflect the true nature of architecture.
Just because this community space is bare bones, I don’t think it is appropriate to segregate it into either the Architecture or architecture categories. Architecture is the result of human choices and economic constraints, and is therefore imperfect. While many buildings aspire to perfection, it will never be achieved. There will never be a building that suits the exact needs of all users on demand. Instead, I believe we should look at architecture on a spectrum.
Suppose we classify architecture through the narrow lens of functional importance to our society. In this scenario, gas stations would probably be near the top of the list with homes, grocery stores, factories and hospitals. Fancy art museums and cultural centers would probably end up near the bottom of the list. But if we were to classify architecture solely by aesthetic beauty, our list of “good” architecture would probably omit many of the buildings we interact with on a daily basis. If we are trying to capture the true essence of architecture, and classify buildings appropriately, we should look at a succinct list of factors that define a building’s overall contribution to society. This way, we are not discounting the cultural importance of museums while not overlooking the functional importance of gas stations.
On a deeper level, this question of classifying architecture demands a personal definition. For me, it is the product of a long process. Establishing function, gathering community input, reviewing property constraints and the prevailing building rules, revising designs, construction, etc. are all important parts of architecture. Architecture is oftentimes the result of a highly political process. When land is being developed, competing interests are all vying for greater say in the final design. This highly collaborative process results in architecture, even when it doesn’t result in a building. It is the architect’s job to consider all potential end users of a space and to design for the best possible outcome.
Great piece! Thoughtful and enlightening!