Showing posts with label Language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Language. Show all posts

Friday, September 04, 2026

Post Babel: Death of Craftsman

One of the important texts in the history of modern architecture is Adolf Loos’s “Ornament and Crime,” written in 1908. Loos argued that ornament had become unnecessary — and, more importantly, that it represented a waste of human labour, material and time. Architecture should no longer be burdened by the decorative traditions of the past simply because they had been inherited from previous generations.

His argument can be understood through five central ideas:

1. Ornament was economically wasteful. Decorative details required additional labour, craftsmanship and material without necessarily improving the function of an object or building. For Loos, this was not merely an aesthetic problem; it was an economic one. A society should not continue investing enormous amounts of labour into things whose primary purpose was decoration.

2. Ornament represented an earlier stage of civilisation. Loos suggested that as societies developed, their need for decoration diminished. The modern individual should not need to surround themselves with elaborate ornament in order to express status, identity or cultural sophistication.

3. Architecture needed to respond to modern life. The world in which Loos was writing was changing rapidly. Cities were expanding, industrial production was transforming economies, new materials were becoming available and objects were increasingly being manufactured rather than individually crafted. Architecture could no longer simply reproduce the visual language of the past.

4. Architectural quality did not require decoration: Architecture could derive its richness from proportion, space, material, construction and composition, rather than from applying ornament as a superficial layer.

5. Architecture should express its own time. A modern society equipped with modern technologies and new systems of production should not continue dressing its buildings in the architectural language of previous centuries.

What I find particularly interesting about Ornament and Crime is it sits at a fascinating moment in history when industrialisation was fundamentally changing the relationship between society, production and the things we used every day.

The emergence of mass production created an entirely different logic. Instead of producing an individually crafted chair, lamp, door handle or building component through hours of skilled labour, industry could increasingly produce thousands of identical objects efficiently and cheaply. Standardisation became an economic advantage. Repetition became a virtue rather than a deficiency.

In that context, Loos's rejection of ornament aligned remarkably well with the emerging industrial economy.

• The simpler the object, the easier it was to standardise.
• The more standardised it became, the easier it was to manufacture.
• The easier it was to manufacture, the more widely it could be distributed.

And suddenly, architecture was no longer simply about designing individual buildings. It became part of a much larger transformation in which the entire material environment of society could be designed, manufactured and distributed at scale.

These principles eventually proliferated into furniture, interiors, products, graphics, transportation, appliances and virtually every other aspect of the designed environment. The modern world increasingly became a world of standardised objects: chairs, lights, windows, kitchens, cars, telephones, appliances and eventually entire building systems. Thus rejection of ornament therefore became intertwined with something much bigger: the industrialisation of design itself.

Architecture moved away from the idea of the building as a unique, handcrafted object and towards the idea of the building as something that could be rationalised, systematised and potentially mass-produced.

And here, for me, lies the great irony. Loos was attacking ornament partly because he saw it as a symbol of wasted labour — yet his rejection of ornament arrived at precisely the moment when industrial capitalism was developing the capacity to produce the material world at unprecedented scale.

What began as a cultural and architectural critique of ornament consequently became part of a much larger transformation in the relationship between architecture, technology, economics and society. There is something almost paradoxical about this trajectory.

Loos was, in many ways, arguing for less: less decoration, less waste, less unnecessary labour, less attachment to the past. Industrial modernity took that principle and turned it into more: more objects, more buildings, more production, more consumption and ultimately more of the same designed environment reproduced across society.

In parallel, Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, written in the 1930s, looks at a related transformation, but from the perspective of art rather than architecture. His concern was not simply that technology could reproduce artworks; it was that mechanical reproduction fundamentally changed what an artwork was, how it was experienced and what gave it its cultural authority.

The consequence was not simply that there were more images. It was that the relationship between production and consumption had fundamentally changed. The artwork no longer necessarily needed to be experienced as a unique object created through the hand of an individual maker. It could become an image, a reproduction, a commodity and a mass cultural experience. And I think this is where Benjamin's argument begins to speak directly to architecture.

Because architecture was undergoing a remarkably similar transformation- of the building itself was increasingly becoming detached from the individual act of making it.

• The craftsman was gradually replaced by the industrial worker.
• The workshop was replaced by the factory.
• The individually made component was replaced by the standardised product.
• The knowledge accumulated through generations of making was increasingly separated from the person who designed the building.
• A building could now be conceived in one place, documented in another, manufactured somewhere else and assembled by hundreds of people who might never have met the architect — or even understood the building as a complete work.

This was an extraordinary gain in productive capacity. But it also represented a profound cultural loss.

The medieval or traditional craftsman was not simply a pair of hands executing somebody else's instructions. Their knowledge was embedded in the material itself: knowing how stone fractures, how timber behaves, how a joint should be made, how ornament relates to structure, how a particular material should be handled. The act of making was itself a form of knowledge.

In this sense, I see the crisis of modern architecture as part of the same crisis Benjamin identified in art. Mechanical reproduction did not merely change the appearance of things; it changed our relationship with the act of making them. Architecture, perhaps more than almost any other discipline, embodies this contradiction. Modernism gave us extraordinary possibilities: standardisation, efficiency, affordability, new materials, new construction techniques and the possibility of providing better environments to millions of people rather than a privileged few. But the same process also progressively displaced the craftsman from the centre of architectural production.

The building became a product of systems rather than the expression of a continuous chain of human making. And perhaps this is the deeper story behind the transition from ornament to modernity.

We often tell the history of Modernism as a story of liberation — liberation from historical styles, unnecessary decoration and outdated conventions. And there is truth in that. But I think it can also be understood as a story of displacement.

We displaced ornament. Then we displaced craft. Then we displaced the craftsman. And replaced them with an alienated workforce, separated from the material, process and final product of their own labour.

And perhaps that is the real crisis that both Loos and Benjamin, in very different ways, help us see: the transformation of culture from something made through human hands and embedded in particular places into something that could be reproduced, standardised and distributed at scale across the globe (goods, services and labour).

Architecture did not escape the crisis of mechanical reproduction. It became one of its largest and most permanent expressions. The modern environment was no longer simply designed. It was manufactured.


Saturday, May 31, 2014

Doha (26th - 31st May)







 

Having worked on various projects located in Doha over the past 5 years, it is only recently that I had the opportunity to visit it. It being a short trip we had just enough time to visit a new development called Katara and Souk Waqif that felt like public spaces, while rest of the experience was through the car on a busy high speed road surrounded by tower (West Bay) or low rise suburban sprawl. The built environment seemed to reflect the demographics of the place where one could visibly see the difference between built forms and spaces that were for Qataris, expatriates and low skilled workers, and a conscious space planning to keep these segregated. Workers were seen to use the street or vague in-between spaces as their public space to linger in the background, almost invisible.
This contradiction of desiring segregation but aspiring for an image of public life for each of the three groups under consideration reminds me of China Mieville’s The City & The City, described here as “The City & the City takes place in the cities of Besźel and Ul Qoma. These two cities actually occupy much of the same geographical space, but via the volition of their citizens (and the threat of the secret power known as Breach), they are perceived as two different cities. A denizen of one city must dutifully 'unsee' (that is, consciously erase from their mind or fade into the background) the denizens, buildings, and events taking place in the other city – even if they are an inch away. The twin cities are composed of crosshatched, alter, and total areas. "Total" areas are entirely in one city, the city in which the observer currently resides. "Alter" areas are completely in the other city, and so must be completely avoided and ignored. Between these are areas of "crosshatch". These might be streets, parks or squares where denizens of both cities walk alongside one another, albeit "unseen." Areas that exist in both cities usually go under different names in each one. There is also Copula Hall, "one of the very few" buildings which exists in both cities under the same name. Rather than being cross-hatched, it essentially functions as a border. It is the only way in which one can legally and officially pass from one city to another. Passing through the border passage takes travellers, geographically (or "grosstopically"), to the exact place they started from – only in a different city”. Only in case of Doha it would be 3 cities interlocked within one another. For designers who don’t have the luxury of fighting social injustices or demand democracies, developing such self-indulgent design briefs is the only way to survive work in the middle east, which to be honest can be lot more interesting given the crazy money + ambition combination than do work in a democratic process with restricted budget, a 100000 page convoluted policy guidance, 1 km deep sub terrain infrastructure, public consultations and if that is not enough bunch of boring consultants who are hired to purely tick the boxes to give rise to a reasonably well reasoned masterplan that reeks of absence of any ambition for the built environment.
 

Saturday, June 04, 2011

London International Documentary Festival

My friend Mukul had two of his film screenings at the London International Documentary Festival, Vertical City and Certified Universal both of which were being screened at the Horse Hospital. I could make it for the Certified Universal, a beautiful short film with the audience relishing every second of the film as images from films and the city fused together to form Bombay.
I remember reading Berger where he writes there are numerous paintings of water lilies, haystacks, sunflowers and nudes, but only a few come to be truly beautiful where the artist and art merge and are inseparable. For me Certified Universal was one such beautiful film in which I see the city, the film and Mukul, all tightly composed in 14 minutes.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Voynich Manuscript

I have written before small, odd, confused articles on language (1, 2, 3, 4) and other speculations associated, one of which being erasure of language. To speculate on possibility of losing the memory of sounds and symbols that make up words and how to arrange these together. Being able to imagine an alternative history where Rosetta stone was never discovered and we are left with only encoded unrecognisable vast archives that look exquisitely rich in their meaning but undecipherable,quite similar to the symbol of human infertility, where Zizek talks about Art in the absence of its context in Children of Men.
I can only imagine the feeling cryptographers, ciphers, linguists and historians get when they study The Beinecke MS 408 or also popularly known as the Voynich manuscripts presently housed in Yale University's Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library building (designed by SOM). A treasure trove of history, symbols and science locked up meaningless without its codec. Some images below for visual intrigue and pleasure.
(All images for this post have been borrowed from the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript online Archive, Yale University.)

Sunday, October 17, 2010

To Learners of New Languages and Old

According to Foucault, the relationship between thought and language is that of geometry and algebra, where all the geometric shapes spontaneously pre-exist in nature waiting to be drawn and discovered but it is the algebric expression that provides the shape a meaning that is precise to its nature, where the spontaneity of the shapes' existence gets tuned in a mathematical meaning that when played will become that shape. And sometimes it is formulation of an algebric expression that could lead us to an undiscovered shape.
I loved this metaphor as it immediately makes one conscious of the proximity of language to space and social structure.This simultaneous Independence and symbiotic interdependence between language and thought I believe makes it even more crucial to conserve, learn, understand, speak and make new languages or else we lose out on all hopes of making something truly original that sprouts from the fertile soil of human conscience.
Some linguists estimate that a language dies every two weeks with the death of its last speaker. Apparently India tops the list with 196 endangered languages, geographically most of them located in the North and North-Eastern regions which had an interface with rest of the Asian landmass.
Maybe some decades down we may come to inherit a handful of fine words distilled to perfection by the utilitarian global culture, that quite ironic for their meaning sum up the true essence of human rot: LOL & LMAO!

Sunday, April 05, 2009

Abulafia! & Foucault's Pendulum

I had been reading Eco Umberto's Foucault's Pendulum. Its a nice book and left me very inspired. Not so much by the plot, the linguistic manoeuvring or the humbling intellectual self index of his knowledge but by The Plan a product of a programmed Abulafia! Abulafia- a fantastic device capable of assimilating disparate texts from scriptures, pop culture, age of reason to insanity into strings of comprehensive and almost convincing conspiracy theories. Like Musikalisches WÃŒrfelspiel to create music!
Inspired by all this, I wordled (A "Wordle" enables you to see how frequently words appear in a given text, or see the relationship between a column of words and a column of numbers. You can tweak your word "clouds" with different fonts, layouts, and colour schemes) together some of the most influential speeches of the 20th century, which you may find here. The speeches are:
1) We shall Fight on the Beaches by Winston Churchill
This speech was delivered to House of Commons on June 4 1940

2) A Tryst with Destiny by Jawaharlal Nehru
This speech was delivered to the Constituent Assembly of India in New Delhi on August 14 1947

3) I have a dream by Martin Luther King
This speech was delivered on August 28 1963 at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington

4) Ask not what your country can do for you by John F Kennedy
This speech was delivered by John F Kennedy at his inauguration in Washington on January 20 1961

5) An ideal for which I am prepared to die for by Nelson Mandela
This statement was made from the dock at the opening of Mandela's trial on charges of sabotage, Supreme court of South Africa, Pretoria, April 20 1964.

On wordling all of the above speeches together one comes across a word cloud or more of a primordial soup for a very good speech.
Now all we require is a sentence maker to reveal the true capacity of these words to give rise to the right rhetoric or even left, but this is what I came across the sentence maker a tool to teach kids to make sentences. On adjusting the html source to serve our purpose, the sentence maker may be able to assimilate the words below based on programmed syntax of adjectives, adverbs,nouns and prepositions to give rise to a more comprehensive arrangement of words. Maybe cross connecting it with Babelfish we might be able to design the most powerful speech of words, sounds and grammar meaning different things in different languages. I wonder if such a thing like Abulafia is already sitting within one of Googles laboratories with its robotic mind plugged into Google Earth, Search engines, Blogger,Sketch up and numerous streams of data and applications, enabling control over media, money and power.

Friday, March 07, 2008

Language

Being surrounded by people from diverse regions of the world each having their own language, we often come across familiar sounds, words, proverbs and phrases that we discover and compare, revealing encoded moralities, ethics, value systems and perceptions of entire civilizations ingrained within the meaning of a single word. As if through the language we understand and build the world, through words with subtle differences that are so similar and often accidentally considered synonymous, but become exact in their meaning during a beautiful sunset or in the middle of a crisp argument.
During our meals we often have elaborate culinary conversations, with people talking about rotting, fermenting, aging of different expressions that describe fruits, vegetables, cuisines, and all this flavoured by prose communicating spices that many a times I feel reveal the spiciness simply through their phonetics. Like Italo Calvino’s story “Under the Jaguar Sun” words dissolve, marinate and become food, form and space. Kostas says language is like an organism, which requires people and food so that it survives and not by just talking or reading your language but engaging with it and giving birth to new words and new methods of arranging words so as to represent form and spaces and our new ideas about them. As I involve myself presently in the process of informally learning some light hearted Greek, I have become even more aware of how the structure of language even structures the experience of the world around. On comparing it to my mother tongue, I realise there are different objects, spaces, forms, our bodies, feelings etc that have been asserted the feminine or the masculine gender, my neck is feminine, the door is masculine, the tree is inanimate etc. With the pleasure of having a choice (and vice versa) between different words conveying the same meaning but to choose different genders I suppose turns the experience of the world into something much more beautiful than “it”.
In the Greek language different words with meanings get added and subtracted like a mathematical or design process in order to almost invent a new word like oplismeno skirodema......which is a word communicating reinforced concrete through combinations of “to support” +“strong”+”small stones” + “earth” and each of these words having multiple other connotations and references. The Spanish language seems to thrive on accents and slang that hides and reveals meanings based on which history one is a part of, but on most occasions everyone is your “socio”. The Japanese language through its words for numbers can reveal what is the nature of the object that is being counted and also sometimes its status simply through the number. When my Brit friend Tom asks “anyone fancies a drink?” at the end of a tiring day, I enjoy retorting “always a pleasure”......two sentences filled with enough desire, to turn going for drinks into a an absolute passion in a city with a fast eroding public realm.
So as we through language, assert pluralities, sexualities and history on forms and spaces, do our experiences of these spaces change as well? Is it that the very language used to construct and sell the idea of these spaces got reinforced through the process of their implementation? Or am I simply building myself an elaborate “baroque” trap that will keep me engaged in the process of ornamenting the language and convoluting the content?