Is Adaptability More Important Than Art In Architecture?

Something we see every day falls into the background and becomes part of the mundane.  We drive down familiar roads, past the same buildings and rarely notice the things that amazed us the first time we saw them.  I hate to upset my artist friends but that also happens with art. 

Recently a friend of mine did an extensive remodel of his apartment.  I know that he is an art lover so I wondered if he was going to buy some new art to go with his updated decor.  “No.  My friend Kenny has a warehouse full of his art that he is tired of and has had in storage for so long so he said that I should just go in there and use what I want.”  Original works of art, costing thousands of dollars losing their impact and being put in storage is just part of what it means to be a work of art, except in architecture. 

What happens when you can’t take that art down?  What happens when the piece of art is a monster-sized structure that dazzled the eye because of its size, but now fades into the background?  Can the next generation of users adapt it to their needs?  Besides, it is only the rare piece of art that transcends the trends of its own generation. 

In 1973 Ricardo Bofill discovered a cement factory that was in various stages of decay and demolition.  It was part of an industrial complex from the turn of the century, comprising over 30 silos, underground galleries and huge engine rooms. Bofill saw the adaptability of these structures and decided to transform it into his head office.  

What was not adaptable had to be removed.  Things specifically used for the production of cement had to be gutted from the buildings along with parts of the structure in order to sculpt the space for its new owners.  Once the useable space was defined, eight silos were left standing.  The landscape architecture also had to be adapted with newly planted greenery. 

The former cement factory was adaptable enough to be turned into offices, a modeling laboratory, archives, a library, a projection room and a huge space known as “The Cathedral,” the venue for subsequent exhibitions, lectures, concerts and a whole range of cultural activities linked to the architect’s professional life. 

Gardens of eucalyptus, palms, olive trees and cypresses were planted where machinery formerly ground everything to dust.  The vision of Ricardo Bofill was such that he not only saw professional buildings but also his house and guest rooms on this site.  All of this was started in 1973.   
 

When we force our architecture onto the next generation, maybe we should also be asking what they might do with it?  If it is not adaptable, maybe it should be designed to be temporary?

We have a huge oversupply of buildings in the United States.  Which ones are going to survive?  I think that the ones that are of value are not always the ones that were most artistic at the time they were built.  I think adaptability has priority over artistic impact in the long run.  We can fix ugly, as Bofill has demonstrated with this cement factory.  But we can’t fix useless.

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