Monday, January 14, 2013

The Contemporary Beautiful


Ken Smith gave a presentation at Dumbarton Oaks on his design for the newly completed Santa Fe Railyard Park. His design transformed the formerly degrade site into play areas for children and quiet areas for relaxing. Drainage ditches were cleaned up to allow the stream to thread its way through shady places, historic rail lines were preserved, and utility poles for light fixtures were cleverly designed as glu-lam posts that concealed the electrical conduit. The surrounding areas are responding with new stores and cafes. I’ve been there, and it projects a sense of place unique to Santa Fe: sunny, rugged and industrious. I asked Smith a question that he and John Beardsley the moderator were unable to answer. Was this park beautiful? I suppose it was a trick question because after looking at a presentation of gorgeous landscape photography, the stage was set for thinking about the park as a picture, or an image of an object. My intent was not to challenge the representation, but to question what can be beautiful in design today, and I wondered if these two imaginative innovators had a thought.

The contemporary beautiful is ecological health. This park design had taken a derelict place and returned it to be a contributing member of a vibrant environment. New graded land forms shaped distinct places within the park, shady plants and trees grew in their naturally-occurring forms, flash-flooding was oriented toward channels that could accommodate the occasional inundation without damage, and people had places to walk, sit and play.

The park was hard to photograph. No single vista beckoned or artificial composition of “features” begged to be captured as a “photographic moment.” My memories are less visual and more recalled feelings of experiencing gradations of light and shade, movement and rest, activity and interesting details. Most think of the beautiful, as opposed to the sublime, following Edmund Burke’s 18th century definitions. Beautiful objects were to be small, smooth with gentle variation of form, and delicate with soft colors. Smith’s aim was not to create the beautiful using these attributes. Nevertheless, the park was beautiful even according to Burke, because it fit.

Fitness as an aesthetic attribute has been part of design principles - firmitatis, utilitatis, venustatis (strength, utility, grace) - since at least the treatise of Vitruvius in the 1st century, CE. The underlying foundation for all three principles is fitness. Strength comes from using the right material and method of construction that are appropriate to the site and intended purpose. Utility is often summarized as satisfying a list of operations of which the network of natural processes and human activities must fit together to be sustainable. Grace, the most difficult to interpret, can be reduced to the design’s pleasing and elegant appearance, but it can also be considered to be the design’s full perceptible vitality as a dynamic part integrated into networks of ecological operations. What could be healthier than experiencing a design that is well-made with local materials thoughtfully employed, performs well for all users human and otherwise, and is intellectually and emotionally engaging; what could be more beautiful?     

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