A week or so after the destruction in New York, Washington, and Pennsylvania, I ran into a colleague in the Berkeley Bowl. He asked me if I would address these events in my next Comment. I told him that I was reluctant to do so, and I am. Not being obliged to respond quickly, as some architectural spokespersons were, I escaped the temptation to seize upon the events as an opportunity to point out, to a presumably indifferent public, the importance of architecture. I’m grateful for the reprieve. What these events mean for architecture, or what architecture means in the midst of these events, is not at all clear to me.
In the first place, to lose a loved one in the collapse of a prominent building is not so different from losing a loved one in a plane crash in an empty field or, indeed, on a roadside in the Kyber Pass. The one is not more noble than the other, nor is it less so. To talk proprietarily of buildings is, in this context, so much static.
To talk of the symbolism of buildings as if it were the special and effective province of the architect seems equally impertinent. The emptiness of the reference to Arabic architecture in the World Trade Center’s columns we may view as merely ironic. The patent futility of painting a red cross on the roofs of buildings housing relief supplies is anything but ironic. In each case, the building is more symbolic in ruin—as is the demolished West Bank home of the widowed mother-in-law of an alleged Palestinian “terrorist,” of which we have lately read.
Neither of the latter two buildings will make it into the architectural history books. Nor, for that matter, will the tents designed for the U.S. Army by an architectural firm whose offices on Chambers Street in lower Manhattan face south to where the Towers once stood.
What I would most regret, in the aftermath of these events, would be the reinforcement of the pernicious dichotomy that Nikolaus Pevsner introduced into architecture, but which is equally destructive in the political or economic sphere: “An Afghan village is mere building; the World Trade Center is Architecture.”
Our current issue looks at California’s water-related infrastructure. It is no handbook for mischief; one may look elsewhere in the public domain for technical data. Here, we focus on paradoxes that have emerged, conflicts that have developed between natural systems and the diverse human interests that have reshaped them. The issue is organized roughly from north to south, beginning with the Sacramento/ San Joaquin Delta and ending at the Salton Sea. Because the topic is clearly too vast for our pages, we have included a bibliography and “webiography” to guide you to further resources.
On the water front, it is encouraging to note that Governor Davis recently signed into law a bill requiring developers to demonstrate an adequate water supply for new developments. Evelyn Nieves wrote in The New York Times (11 October 2001), “The new law, hailed by its proponents as one of the toughest in the country linking land-use to water supplies, imposes strict requirements for cities and counties in issuing permits for new subdivisions of 500 or more homes. It requires that the local water agency verify that it has enough water to serve the project for at least 20 years, including long periods of drought. The governor signed that bill, written by Senator Sheila Kuehl, Democrat of Santa Monica, and its companion bill, by Senator Jim Costa, Democrat of Fresno, requiring that cities and counties consult their water agencies early in the planning stages of a development.”
Originally published 4th quarter 2001, in arcCA 01.4, “H2O CA.”
