The rational and irrational processes are not two separate notions but rather just one. One might push the rational process to the extreme, to the point that it becomes its own opposition.
Digital space is no substitute for architectural space. To me that seems pretty obvious.
—Yung Ho Chang
Yung Ho Chang is an architect and Professor of Architecture and former Head, MIT Department of Architecture; Professor of the 1000-Scholar Plan, Tongji University, Shanghai; and former Head and Professor of the Graduate Center of Architecture of Peking University. His degrees in environmental design and architecture are from U.S. institutions, including the University of California, Berkeley. He established China’s first independent architectural firm, Atelier FCJZ, which undertakes a variety of projects, ranging from private residences to museums and government building, as well as experimentation in furniture, product, stage, and graphic design.
Chang is the recipient of numerous awards, including the UNESCO Prize for the Promotion of the Arts (2000), a China Architectural Arts Award (for the Hebei Education Publishing House, 2004), and a Business Week/Architectural Record China Award (for Villa Shizilin, 2006).
Note: This dialogue took place on the beautiful Mediterranean island of Mallorca, off the eastern coast of Spain, within the framework of the inspiring “Stonemasonry in Context: The Artifex Workshop,” sponsored by Artifexbalear and its director, Miguel Ramis, in June 2009.1 This text was revised by Yung Ho Chang in June 2015.
Adolfo Plasencia:
Professor Chang, welcome to Spain. And welcome to the wonderful island of Mallorca. You are here to participate in the “Stonemasonry in Context” workshop, organized by a courageous group that promotes the traditional use of stone as an element of the Mediterranean heritage. This essential material is part of the collective memory of every civilization that has emerged around the Mare Nostrum, as the inhabitants of both its shores have called this sea of ours for thousands of years.
In its online statement, the workshop is defined as “an in-depth discussion that explores the intersection between nature and creativeness.”
Do you think that creativeness and all that it achieves is the result of architecture’s inherent creative processes, determined by a rational human mind? Or are emotions more decisive in shaping the outcome of that creative process? Some people say that at the end of the day, commitment and hard work are the determining forces. Which factor is for you most crucial for maximum success in an architectural creative process? Hard work and self-discipline? Technical knowledge? Emotion and sensitivity? Or the constant effort required for the creative process?
Yung Ho Chang:
That’s a whole set of questions. I think I can answer maybe three elements of the first issue. First, as far as hard work and self-discipline are concerned, they are actually the bedrock for any work; you can’t do anything without a readiness to work hard and without exercising self-discipline. But as for the notion of rational and perhaps irrational approaches to architecture, I do believe that you need both; that’s why architecture is so attractive. However, personally, I think such rational and irrational processes are not two separate notions but rather just one. One might push the rational process to the extreme, to the point that it becomes its own opposition, so what is a rational way of thinking in the end becomes irrational—and the outcome is at one and the same time both rational and irrational.
A.P.:
Aristotle, one of the greatest minds to emerge from the Mediterranean world, said, “When you are compelled to build something well, you become a good architect.”
Do you think Aristotle was right? That building well—in other words, becoming involved in the practical activity of constructing something—is the best way to become a good architect?”
Y.H.C.:
That’s actually a harder question than it seems because, for society in general, good buildings are very important—maybe more important than good architecture, if we can make such a distinction between buildings and architecture. However, for students, I think that it’s vital to acquire a knowledge of what good buildings are as part of the design foundation. We take a good look at examples of successful buildings in the world; we examine buildings that were well built, then we consider buildings that work very well—and we assume that these buildings may also be capable of inspiring people. If a building can move people, that’s truly something that goes beyond the basic function of architecture, which is also something that’s very necessary for us. To put it another way, for basic learning and a clear understanding of the quality of a building, and for society, again, well built and functional are crucial. But for the discipline we have to go further than that. You might say it’s a game for architects, but a very serious one. In a way, it’s the Olympic Games for architects to go beyond that point.
A.P.:
Mies van der Rohe is universally considered to be a great master of architecture, not only for his work but also for his thoughts.
He once said, “Each material possesses its own unique characteristics, and you must know them in order to work with it properly.” He also remarked, “We conclude that nothing is achieved from the material alone, but only from the correct use of that material. New materials do not guarantee better results, as the worth of each material is tied to what we create with it. Just as with materials, we also must learn about the nature of our goals.”2
Do you think that, with the abundance of new materials and technology, we sometimes forget to learn the nature of our goals, as argued by Mies van der Rohe?
Y.H.C.:
There are two very important points here. First, in general, I very much agree with Mies van der Rohe; I’m very much influenced by his way of thinking about architecture. Architecture is the art of building, I too think this way. If you agree with this statement, it follows that architecture is really about materiality; materiality is the basis of architecture. Second, as for new materials, Mies himself embraced the new materials of his time—steel, glass, and so on—in such a way that he not only used them to create architecture in the traditional sense, he perceived a new architecture in such materials. And of course he became very influential, a super-significant milestone for modern architecture. So today, when we look at new materials, we have to look beyond their novelty. At the same time, we have to examine old materials in the light of the new materials available today and do this in a very democratic way and on equal terms. Because a material is new, it’s not necessarily better. Similarly, because a material is old, that doesn’t necessarily make it more interesting. Old and new materials have to be considered in the same light and examined on the same terms, and then that examination needs to go further so that we explore their deepest, most fundamental quality.
A.P.:
There is an architectural tradition that has been recently revived in a contemporary context. The architect Steven Holl, who received the BBVA Foundation Frontiers of Knowledge Award, said that he does not want to build here and there on the basis of his own style. He’d rather have no personal style, as each architecture should emerge uniquely at each specific place, in each location.3
The German philosopher Martin Heidegger, in his essay “Build, Inhabit, Think,” argued: “The location is not already there before the bridge is. Before the bridge stands, there are of course many spots along the stream that can be occupied by something. One of them proves to be a location, and does so because of the bridge....a location comes into existence only by virtue of the bridge.”4
Do you think that architecture and place should be linked, as Steven Holl says? Furthermore, with the appearance of each work of architecture, does a place emerge that did not exist before, as Heidegger maintains?
Y.H.C.:
I have two comments. The first is about the notion of style. It’s not that architects don’t have styles but rather that styles have to be based on something: an attitude, an understanding of architecture, strategies, and so on. I know Steven Holl personally as a friend quite well, so I understand his argument. It’s also very important to understand that it’s not someone who changes the look of a building who qualifies as a more progressive architect but rather one who may have a more consistent use of certain forms and materials yet is trying to really focus on certain issues. Such architects are architects without styles because they are really working on issues rather than questions of style.
The second comment relates to this notion of how architecture might change a place or not, or make a place. I’ve had that experience myself. We did a project called “Commune” by the Great Wall outside Beijing. Once the project was completed, a lot of people asked me and the client how we picked a special valley outside Beijing in which to undertake it. The truth is, it was not a special valley; it was a typical valley outside Beijing. There were hundreds of valleys just like that. That said, a work of architecture, when carefully placed into the landscape and working with it, can give the locale and landscape a further legibility. That’s actually what architecture is all about.
A.P.:
Professor Chang, in your opinion, is architecture a discipline that can be simultaneously eternal and in constant evolution? What do you think?
Y.H.C.:
I agree with your statement. Let me explain why. Right now, we’re talking about architecture in a strictly academic context, so we are not talking about the market, the economy, society, and such. However, architecture is totally rooted in society, so it’s part of the economy, culture, and so on, and it evolves with changes in society, technology, and the like. So much for the change part. And then it’s not so much that the physical buildings are eternal; they aren’t in any way, and indeed may actually have rather short lives. But the need for a settlement, a city, a building is constant. Not too long ago there was a tendency to talk about how digital space, cyberspace, would take over physical space. It was a seductive argument but it didn’t make sense. Why shouldn’t we have both? Indeed we do have both, we enjoy having both, because in the end, digital space is no substitute for architectural space. To me that seems pretty obvious.
A.P.:
I have seen the website of your Architecture Atelier.5 Although I am not able to understand some of your comments because I can’t read Chinese, I think I can make two observations. The first is that you agree with the statement by Mies van der Rohe that “less is more.” Your website is very elegant and synthetic, and the architecture featured there exemplifies this very principle. My second observation is that the chronology of the website, the order of access to your projects and works, is not the usual one; rather, it seems to be chronologically reversed or randomly arranged.
Are these impressions of mine accurate?
Y.H.C.:
You have two questions there. The first question is about “less is more.” That statement has been frequently challenged during the postmodernist era. People argued, “Why not ‘more is more,’ ‘less is less,’ or ‘less is more’?” As a purely aesthetic statement, I think there is room for such questions. But in reality, two things dictate the practice of architecture. First, architecture, the actual building, is always complex. It is not about a single idea, however pure that idea may appear. In reality, architecture is all about the synthesis of space and usage, structural engineering and mechanical engineering. And it will always be that way. So no matter how simple the original conception is, in architecture it ends up being complex, if not complicated. Even so, having a simpler, clearer idea to begin with is very important. I really believe that’s what Mies van der Rohe meant and that he used it in an aesthetic, “minimalist” sense. So I agree with that, although more in terms of the design process rather than as a fixed aesthetic. As for your second point, I have to say if I redo my website I probably would think about reordering it, but at the time it was set up, we didn’t have much work to show. Then again, that’s what I understand as interaction: letting people look for something rather than it being presented straightforwardly, so that what you might call “our office on the Internet” achieves a labyrinth-like quality. I’m actually open-minded about it. The website does have some kind of inherent architectural quality that is probably very true to the way I understand architecture. In a way it has to do with the way that we put it together. It’s all about a very simple structure to present a rather complex experience. I hope that I can keep that on my website—and do it even better in my buildings.
A.P.:
The architect Rem Koolhaas, winner of the Pritzker Architecture Prize, said: “The outcome of contemporary architecture is ‘junk space’: an infinite, undistinguishable interior space defined by innovations such as air conditioning, escalators, acoustic ceilings … which have damaged architecture’s credibility forever.”6
Do you agree with him?
Do you think that such excesses of modernization are affecting the credibility of architecture?
Y.H.C.:
In a way that’s true because architecture initially—or rather buildings initially—were there to create a shelter for people. It was all about comfort, and then somehow the task of providing comfort was taken over by technology—by things like air conditioning, insulation, almost everything except architecture. It was a problem then and still is one. Some elements of this technology have been around for rather a long time but we architects have not yet fully digested their possible impact on architectural design, so we have been reacting rather passively. We all like to imagine our pure space, but in the end we get all this extraneous stuff, and therein lies a problem. If we can’t solve it, maybe the next generation of architects can, so that we actually manage to fully integrate the mechanical systems into architecture within contemporary issues of importance such as energy and sustainability. In this way architecture remains as powerful as it was before while working effectively together with all the engineering disciplines. Maybe I’m overly optimistic but I think it’s possible.
A.P.:
Finally, what do you think about the friendly atmosphere and, you might say, the “heroism” of the “Stonemasonry in Context” workshop, devised by Miquel Ramis, Luis Berríos-Negrón, and Michael Ramage, here in Mallorca?
Y.H.C.:
I’d like to use a couple of words that Luis Berríos used when translating for me: one is heroic and the other is materialize. Heroic or not, for me the whole idea of heroism today is very different from that of ancient times, in both the West and China. But I think that whoever takes on a larger than life challenge is pretty heroic. I think there is a level of idealism in this project that challenges the status quo in architectural education. It’s important and it’s clearly heroic, especially today, when a lot of our students, because of the way we teach—I can’t blame others because I'm part of the system now—may actually forget that architecture, however conceptual it might be, is deeply rooted in materiality. So that’s why this term “materialize” is very important. It’s not so much a matter of thinking about abstract ideas or big ideas but rather whether such an idea is firmly rooted in something tangible.
On the surface, there appears to be something almost innocent about this workshop: to get an idea of the traditional, age-old craft of stonework. But in fact this poses several questions. Number one: Is craft still relevant and important for architecture today? And then we can ask how the past and present are connected. This is really interesting since ultimately it leads you to the question, what really is architecture? Is it something physical, tangible, so that it’s always about crafts—although crafts can, of course, evolve? Or is it more an intellectual exercise, in a way that’s attached only to the metaphysical world and has nothing to do with the physical world? These are important questions. I think workshops like this for students are very important experiences for them to consider in depth such questions, which they may or may not have had opportunity to reflect on. In a sense it’s a process of materialization, meaning that by the end, some issues will have been clarified in their minds, so it’s a very, very rewarding experience for them. Finally, I’d like to add that I’ve never been to Mallorca before. And I’ve never been to a workshop like this, so I’ll tell my own students about my own experiences here, where I’m learning quite a lot.
A.P.:
Professor Chang, thank you very much for your time. Thanks for this conversation.
Y.H.C.:
Thanks to you.