The following essay was written a while ago for a Philosophy & Theories of Architecture class. It should be treated as an introduction into a subject that is very important to me and that I wish to develop further over the coming years into something which can actively contribute to rural architecture/society in this country.
The Future of Rural Architecture in Britain: Its relevance and its place in the battle against Globalisation
In this essay I will attempt to address the state of present rural architecture in Britain and outline the direction I believe it needs to take, as well as looking at the current state of the country’s identity and suggesting what we need to do to preserve it. I will talk about the negative impact of Globalisation but consider optimistic ways to react that can allow the positive effects to continue to grow but limit the negative. I want to suggest how we as a generation can bring pride back to all groups of the nation not just the lager drinking football supporters. I will ask what architecture can do in response to these concerns.
I hope to conclude that rural architecture is highly relevant and is getting more so. Rural architecture is integrally linked to our future beyond the climate change crisis. The future solutions of both lie in the earth, they must relate to the earth and do so to a level where an equilibrium can be reached, a symbiotic relationship must be achieved. This is the strange thing about present rural architecture, in most cases it doesn’t relate to the earth, it appears to have been placed upon it by some mysterious race, which in fact, it has; a race that has lost touch with it’s home and become very inward facing.
In a recent seminar at my university a fellow student raised a question about our need to see the night sky over our heads and the fact that the opportunity for this is being reduced by light pollution. Through the discussion of this point it became clear that the removal of this simple activity from our daily lives was part of a trade off for our 24-hour culture. The main argument in favour of this constant lighting was keeping the streets as safe as possible for people travelling by night. I think we need to question this definition of a ’24 hour society’. We have always had one, it’s just that life varies through the hours of a daily cycle. Life continues when the sun goes down but why must we strive to make it the same as life during the day? Surely we are just encouraging a bland existence from which there is no opportunity to pause for breath. The argument for safety is of course a strong one but it leads me to question that if lighting is the solution to night-time danger, is it necessarily worth being safe? Overall, the problem here is that globalisation encourages blandness and if everything is provided for us then decisions and choices are taken away and so we loose variety. We who are a nation built on rich variety, from the physical diversity of our island to the intermingling cultures of our towns.
The afore mentioned 24 hour culture that is so valued is a result of modern societies’ expectancy of immediacy. Everything must be easily obtainable at the push of a button at any given moment. This removes us from the earth. We can learn so much from nature; in nature things take time, if you plant something it will grow but it takes time, and to get from A to B takes time. After all, ‘What is this life if we have no time to stop and stare?’1. The ability or even the want to take time to appreciate things, whether it be nature or architecture, or just life itself is something that differentiates us as an educated people from our predecessors of previous centuries.
The townsman envies the villager his certainties and, in Britain, has always regarded urban life as just a temporary necessity. One day he will find a cottage on the green and ‘’real values’’.’ 2. This quote from Ronald Blythe in 1969 is thankfully not true for everyone but I think this applies to a very high percentage of people living in towns and cities, especially London. There is an increasing desire for things that are natural, organic, real. We are more aware of the artificial and superficial than ever. Members of my generation have grown up in time with the awareness of global warming, we’ve seen recycling become a mainstream necessity, and since our early years people around us have voiced a deep dislike for ‘ugly 60’s tower blocks’. We have seen supermarkets consume our high streets and erase their identities. All these factors and more make us, and the generations that follow, the ones who will complete the cycle of human consuming and development and transform it into the behaviour of participants of a symbiotic relationship with the earth. If the Oxpecker on the Water Buffalo’s back suddenly becomes carnivorous and starts dipping into the flesh of its host then the relationship is doomed. Why should we think that we could maintain such an existence for a prolonged length of time?
And so, when looking for the form in our new rural architecture I do not think it is as simple as looking to nature and creating organic shapes, although this research and the rules discovered should be considered. But if the ‘organic shape’ is made from some kind of obviously ‘artificial’ material than then I think the design has failed as rural architecture. Materials must be natural and local and as such be allowed to influence the design. In the words of HRH Prince Charles: ‘Let where it is be what it’s made of.’3. In the English countryside an organic form of timber or earth instantly connects to the surroundings in their natural state. It is also the case of that the use of natural materials in a design stands a much higher chance of success when combined with organic form. When using the term ‘natural materials’ I do not think that it is necessarily necessary to limit ourselves to the original natural state of the material. For example, I am not out ruling bricks if they can be produced locally from sustainable materials with a low carbon output. Our perception of ‘the brick’ should be more open. A brick in most cases would probably be made from earth and straw or maybe clay. Also, I am not suggesting that the presence of man should be completely removed, that would be beside the point as well as unrealistic but in our presence a respect for the surrounding must be readily apparent.
’If a real England is to be found anywhere, it is surely in its countryside – the landscape that has fuelled the national imagination for centuries… Whatever we do in the Sodom and Gomorrah of our cityscapes and traffic queues can later be undone in the distant rural landscapes of the mind.’4 I believe we are starting to see the murmurs of a shift that will see us start to move away from the time of a country centred around its cities, where all matters of importance and relevance happen with in the city, where ‘progress’ and the ‘future’ can only have an urban context. It is widespread knowledge that we are reaching a tipping point in regards to the climate and as a result we are starting to see large changes in our behaviour. Just the word ‘Green’ that is now pasted into our lives from every direction speaks volumes. Everybody wants to be green, and the irony in the way that it has suddenly become so mainstream to care about our planet is not lost on me, but in this case the result is positive. And so, the word Green is thrust into our lives, we all desire it, we all want our friends to know that we are chasing it. The inhabitants of cities are developing a part of their lives which is very impact conscious, an impact that can be observed, more so than anywhere else, in the countryside. In this respect the important or relevant space, the space that is in the limelight becomes the rural one.
Unfortunately if we approach the countryside as a canvas it is far from blank and work needs to be done to repair the damage our predecessors or we have already done. A lot of the problems began with the industrialised farming that started after the Second World War in an attempt to avoid the situation of relying on imported food. ‘I cannot analyze the historic landscape without noticing how much of almost every aspect of it has been lost since 1945….Almost every rural change since 1945 has extended what is already commonplace at the expense of what is wonderful or rare or has meaning’5 Thankfully the government has since realised the error of its ways and is now subsidising farmers to return the land to its former glory by replanting hedgerows and wild meadows and the like. In the case of rural architecture we still need to raise awareness of the damage that is being done. It seems criminal now to think of the damage done to natural habitats by ripping out hedgerows etc and I like to think that in years to come we will look back and see clearly that we lost our way with rural architecture too. It is not blind hope either; we have already started to design the buildings that will make this future. A prime example is the Tjiabao Cultural Centre in Noumea, New Caledonia by Renzo Piano fig 1. To me this building represents the glory of the diversity of cultures on our planet. The building is undoubtedly contemporary with a practical use that supports the local economy and yet it is ethical in the way it involves local tradition and vernacular style fig 2. It is through its intentions to support the vernacular that leads the building to relate to the nature of its surroundings.
Fig 1
I am always very cautious of using the word tradition as it tends to scare a lot of people off but embedded in tradition is the vernacular. When designing abroad it seems it is very acceptable and ethical of us to consider and respect the traditions of that country such as Piano has done with the Tjiabao centre. But when it comes to building at home to talk about such considerations is seen by many as ‘twee’ or out of date. It is a mentality that has been educated as a part of the global style, as seen in countries with enough money to take part, of computer generated forms with no real meaning. The problem with this global movement and indeed globalisation is that it is killing the identity of individual countries. Without that identity the future is bleak, a world not worth travelling. Thus we must continue to look to the vernacular when designing. I am not suggesting that we simply recreate buildings of the past following a traditional style, simply that it should be considered, referred to. It’s more about the principles than the forms themselves.
As we can see, good ethical, architects already exist. The problem lies in the mainstream. New rural architecture normally arrives in the form of a new estate on the edge of an existing village or maybe the outer reaches of a town. These sites, although they are normally close in proximity to exiting buildings, are prime candidates to move forward into what I see as the next logical phase of rural design. As it stands I pass this kind of new development all the time, presumably because of the lack of affordable housing on the market in recent years and the ever-increasing population. I am persistently faced with a gathering of what appear to be suburban houses without the suburbs. Identical pokey houses based around a system of short roads and drive ways, frustratingly, often surrounded on at least two or three sides by fields! It s clear in almost all cases that there is no relationship (save a snatched view from a bedroom window) between the country side and the buildings, it appears that the architecture is quite literally turning it’s back on the land. The houses sit in a kind of uncomfortable gathering, all silently questioning why they are even at the party, as they don’t like anyone else there, all exuding something between boredom and self-loathing. The only life comes from children playing football between cars. Nobody else wants to gather outside and other than the lack of any real public space it’s the architecture that is discouraging it.
The space that is purchased to erect these estates bares no resemblance to the finished article. I think the land should survive the process and still be allowed to have it’s own voice, it should be seen between buildings, in the use of green spaces and should be seen to engage in a conversation with the surrounding land. In turn the buildings should relate to these spaces as well as the surroundings. The developers ‘Living Villages’ have made steps in the right direction and will hopefully inspire other developers. Their first real development, The Wintles Estate in Shropshire, was completed in 2008 fig 3. With its broken up layout, clusters of small numbers around green spaces and eco-friendly materials (predominantly wood), The Wintles display an obvious connection to the land. Although fairly conventional in their shapes the key here is the variety of forms, something that seems reminiscent of the original establishment of ancient villages where buildings arise more organically and less industrially. The developments have a ‘no car’ rule amongst the houses making the area instantly more human, they also have land set aside for orchards, woodlands and allotments which work around the house and ensure a relationship between the people and their architecture and the surrounding land fig 4. The aspect of the development that I would like to see improved is the connection to a local vernacular, whilst I enjoy the variety; they lack a certain historic seriousness. If the theory I have described, of gaining from the principles of vernacular style, was put into practice here it would just add something to tie the buildings together subtlety without loosing the quality of the mixture.
Fig 3
Fig 4
Nostalgia - A wistful or sentimental longing for things, persons or situations that are past and irrevocable. It’s a word that you will almost certainly be presented with when encroaching into this line of conversation. At some point in time this has become a derogatory term, but whilst I won’t deny that passionate conversation about the country’s identity is partial to being tinged with nostalgia, it is a sad thing that it should be thought to apply here because what we are arguing for is the future and although we may reference the past it is more about preservation and if that is nostalgia than these things are irrevocable and therefore beyond preserving.
The identity of our country has obviously developed over hundreds of years and part of this development has seen the positive effects of globalisation, one only has to look to the rich variety people that make up our culture. This would not have been possible if we were totally closed off to the rest of the world. I suggest that, by considering the vernacular and the traditional, architecture can support and represent the identity of the country in an ever-changing world.
Another key aspect of the relevance of rural architecture is modern technology, the affordability and power of computers, broadband access, email, web-cams. All these components create a strong case for the opportunity for a large percentage of jobs to be carried out at within the home reducing the need for city living and commuting. Obviously not everyone lives in the city through necessity but a lot of people do live there purely because of their employer or because of job opportunities. With expanding communication technology it will become possible to stay in touch with these things from a distance.
It can be assumed that given the opportunity a lot of commuters would not commute as they are striving for the life and values the country can provide and so have located their homes there and are travelling to work in the city. Technology also provides the possibility for continued but easier commuting and possibly a new wave of commuters, with the introduction of high speed transport links. A prime example is the new south-eastern line which has been tested by one of the new ‘bullet trains’ that will run on the line. The journey from Ashford in Kent to London St Pancras will now take only 32 minutes, this makes living in ‘the garden of England’ chronologically closer to King’s Cross than, say; most of the South London Suburbs.
The danger of this easy commuting is that town’s people move to the country but are still very much in touch with the benefits of city living and it’s way of life. In this instance you get people living in the countryside without connecting to it or the community that they live amongst. In short, they miss the values that rural people live by which is the very thing that connects them to the earth while town values act as a barrier to it, ‘The urban dweller is an uprooted person’.6 This is where architecture can once again make the difference, if the architecture and planning respects the community and the surroundings these intentions could be made evident in the forms and the layout. At the risk of suggesting a modernist approach the architecture can determine whether people feel a connection to their home, not just the building but in the wider sense.
In Conclusion, the rural architecture of our future is already starting to emerge. From the Tjiabao Cultural Centre in New Caledonia to The Wintles in Shropshire architects are displaying a willingness to design responsibly and demonstrating that ethical building can be done at a successful and contemporary level. Both of these examples show the relationship with the earth and the local culture and history that is nearly always missing from present rural design yet is so important.
We must continue to approach design ethically and sensitively, considering the vernacular and the natural whilst exercising contemporary creativeness. Among other benefits, through this method we will maintain a national identity and although I am concentrating on Britain the concept should apply to all countries and in turn ensure we continue to enjoy an interesting and diverse planet of exciting, living, cultures.
I think the fashion for not showing national pride is a product of globalisation and the way that is has disconnected people from the large community that is their own country. With the current social climate and shift in values by mainstream society I think this notion is about to change. However we can not just sit back and wait for these changes to make their lumbering shift onto
the public agenda as like so many things before, including various environmental fashions, they will be forgotten a hundred times quicker. We, as architects, must be seen to say ‘no’ to the homogenisation of our rural communities and their identities and all the quirky, twee elements that make them. We must be seen as sensitive and respectful and proud. Technology, innovation and progress will all continue to move forward as they must and will continue to solve many of the problems we face but hopefully this can happen in tune with a renewed maturity and an awareness of our roots and our relationship with the land.
1 William Henry Davies, Leisure, A poem from The Collected Poems of William H. Davies (1916)
Other Sources Used:
Dwellings by Paul Oliver (2003)
‘Inside Britain’s happiest eco-town’ an article from The Independent (6 Feb 2008)
The Living Villages website – www.livingvillage.com
No comments:
Post a Comment