Alexandra Fu
E603A – 34425
October
26, 2006
To
Guard Tradition and Beget Originality: A Paradox
As
far as I can remember, the University of Texas has always been a part of my
life, if not an integral place of significance as the school I now attend, then
at least as the largest institution in Central Texas that I could vaguely
relate to because it is in my hometown. In the month that I've been able to
actually call myself a student at UT, I have fallen in love with the university
and developed a newfound sense of pride and community here. I cannot say that I
have always been an avid Longhorns fan since I could distinguish between burnt
orange and maroon, or that UT has always been my dream school; nor could I say
that upon becoming a student here, the majestic grandeur of the campus inspired
a new academic zeal in me. I can, however, say that I have discovered that actually
living on campus, attending a plethora of diverse classes, and just walking
around and soaking in the realization that my next four years will be spent further
developing my education – and, in the words of Yeats, Ò[hammering] my
thoughts into unityÓ – at the university promotes a warm sense of
familiarity.
However,
our much beloved UT could still withstand a few key changes. Former UT president
Robert M. Berdahl said that ÒLinking people to a place through a shared sense
of commitment is what building a community is all about.Ó[i]
But how can a community be built on that shared sense of commitment when even
something as basic as the physical countenance of that place does not exhibit a
sense of architectural unity and integrity? My affection for the institution has
always been inherent just in its geographical proximity to my home of fourteen
years, but could be strengthened were there a true sense of place. UT would
benefit from changing the current master campus plan to one which both unifies
the university as a whole and does not impede modern progress. My propositional
vision for the new campus master plan for the University of Texas combines
elements of both the Spanish and Modern architectural styles in a way as to
both honor the old traditions and allow for progressive development.
The current campus master plan has far since
abandoned the style of Paul Cret, whose style was derived from Òthe formal
American campus design tradition established by Thomas Jefferson [in his plan
for the University of Virginia].Ó[ii]
JeffersonÕs original plans Òare an icon of American architecture,Ó and he
designed the UVA grounds Òto signal the pre-eminence of reason,Ó[iii]
but UTÕs own campus has fallen into a disjointed semblance of what should be a
cohesive university master plan. We should follow JeffersonÕs example, to
return UT to a caliber that cannot be met alone with curriculum within the
buildings. Though UT appears to be architecturally unified at first, the
contrast between many of the buildings is discordant upon closer inspection,
breaking the initial sense of aesthetic unity. For example, while the Robert
Lee Moore building serves a purely practical purpose, it is essentially a
utilitarian monolith with little to no architectural merit; strikingly
different is the decidedly Spanish-influenced Sutton Hall, which emanates a
tranquil beauty in addition to its functionality.
While some
may argue that the traditional collegiate Gothic would be the best master plan,
as it returns a simple college to its historical origins as a prestigious
institute of higher learning, other styles can do the exact same without the
need for the lavish and intricate details of grotesque gargoyles, sharp spires,
pointed arches or asymmetrical turrets. Could one really imagine taking ÒMusic
307 Jazz AppreciationÓ or ÒElectrical and Computer Engineering 302Ó in edifices
such as those that make up Oxford College or Harvard University, especially in
Central Texas? In considering how nature serves as the touchstone – or
basis of judgment – to architecture, and in the sense that architecture
should also reflect its geographic locale, the Spanish/Mediterranean style is
much more appropriate here. Southern regions, such as Texas, connote warm,
sunny, prairies where low red-roofs and the Spanish-style of architecture are
more appropriate than the forbidding, looming behemoths that Gothic buildings
tend to be.
The high inner
ceilings contrasted with low outside roofs, light-colored limestone walls,
colorful details and rounded arches of the Spanish style reflects that of the Mediterranean
region and encourages a sense of tranquility and deeper wisdom. From the tiny
fragments of shell embedded into the limestone to the sweeping, intricately
painted eaves which constitute the defining rudiments of the Spanish style,
these fundamental elements must remain constant as to promote a unified sense
of artistic intellectualism. For example, current specimens that ably exemplify
this style are Sutton Hall and Battle Hall. On the other hand, Modernism
connotes a moving-away from tradition, and the progression towards skyscrapers
and the like. Now one may – and understandably – ask: if the
Spanish represents 
historical
convention and the Modern epitomizes the very opposite, how can a campus be cohesively
constructed as a well-integrated combination of the 
two? The very idea suggests two dissonant
notes that, when played together, produce a discordant and unpleasant jangling.
However, since Modernism is Òa weasel of a word, whose meanings slip and
slide"[iv]
and can be taken just to mean the Òsimplification of form and elimination of
'unnecessary detail'"[v]
rather than the stereotypical connotation of avant garde eccentricity, it is really altogether quite simple
to splice two such apparently different architectural styles into one of unique
harmony. The fact that modern architecture is more basic and fundamental than
the extravagantly wrought structures associated with styles such as the Gothic
does not deter one from finding truth to nature in it; rather, its simplicity
is what makes it so readily aligned with the Spanish.
Fundamental
elements of each, such as the red roofs and rounded arches of the Spanish and
the sweeping lines and geometric shapes of the Modern, can be melded quite
easily into one. JeffersonÕs influence, with the simplicity of the Monticello
style that is displayed the the University of Virginia, could even be
incorporated, as the white arches of the Monticello windows and doors could
very well be analogous to the arches of the Spanish style. At that, such
characteristics do not even need to all be found in a single building, so long
as these are the two predominant styles of all the buildings on campus. My main
objective is to do away with the tasteless and pointless appearances of
buildings like the Robert Lee Moore building and Jester dormitories. The elegant
Spanish style is better suited for edifices of knowledge and learning, as it
connotes the sophistication of higher learning, whereas the Modern style better
fits housing facilities, offices, and the like, as it reflects the contemporary
comforts we like to associate with our homes. For example, the Robert Lee Moore
building would be rebuilt with the warm brick, wide eaves, and arched windows
of Battle Hall. While Jester is technically considered Modernism as it is now,
it has none of the sophisticated flair that should be associated with
Modernism. In my hybrid master plan, it would be reconstructed as a soaring
structure of large-paneled glass windows and shining beams in alignment with
the contemporary standards of aesthetic comfort.
In fact, one can see the vestiges of Spanish
influence in buildings that would not appear to be so otherwise. For example,
at first glance, Gregory Gym seems just as massive and clumsy as the Robert Lee
Moore building, and is even similar in coloration and bulk. There seems to be
no likeness between Gregory and the clearly Spanish-influenced Battle Hall, yet
Gregory bears an uncannily striking resemblance to the Santa Maria del Naranco,
from its gently sloped pointed roof to its tall, round-arched windows in sets
of threes. When the basic structures are already in place, such as for the Gregory
Gym, all it takes is for one to find the similarity that unifies the university
with a unique sense of place under the banner of Spanish architecture.
I do believe,
however, that certain educational edifices must be Modern rather than Spanish.
For example, the Red McCombÕs School of Business already falls under the
category of Modernism, designed very simply but elegantly, giving off a sense
of professionalism that reflects the nature of its academic program. Its
straight, hard lines and wide expanses of glass windows mirror the vocation
taught within, with its quintessence of the no-nonsense, efficient, streamlined
quality of the business world. With something as fast-paced and
constantly-changing as the world of modern business, it only stands to reason
that the building such a progressive profession is taught in would embody its
inherent nature.
Additionally, as
progress and efficiency are often associated with urban sprawl and development,
a universityÕs campus must be thought of as a cluster or group of several
edifices rather than a structure as a whole. While there is an underlying need
for unity, the concept of the academic village is extremely important. A
university is like its own subdivision within a town, a city within a city; it
has its own population, politics, and personality. Therein lies the need for
crucial details such as transportation, layout and space. Completely
disregarding the architectural style of the buildings themselves,
transportation flow must go mainly around the outskirts of grounds and avoid
inner campus as much as possible, as to promote student safety and ease.
Also, as Jefferson
had planned, Òsocial and intellectual ideals [should] be inseparable from
[their] spatial formsÓ in an academic community and give Òequal value to open
spaces and buildingsÓ because Òthe design of buildings and open spaces is
equally important to create the ideal campus.Ó[vi]
The buildings themselves as well as the space around them are of equal
importance because such space promotes a more metaphorically open environment.
Buildings should be arranged around courtyards so that a sense of place may be
found outside as well as inside. Rather than tiny meandering alleys that run
alongside large buildings such as Welch with narrow streets twisting
haphazardly through inner campus, there should be more open space with perhaps
CretÕs use of flora to separate and isolate spaces. In that vein, nature is yet
another fundamental element in the Spanish/Modern master plan. Cret used low
hedges to Òdefine the perimeter of spacesÓ and various other plants to Òmodify
and articulate spaces around buildings.Ó[vii]
This served to illustrate natureÕs role as the touchstone to architecture and
further align a sense of place with natural elements as well as structural
buildings.
My
representation of my ideal campus master plan integrates the Spanish, the
Modern, and even JeffersonÕs original plan, into one unified building. It
combines red Spanish roofs with ModernismÕs simplicity, in terms of a basic
structural foundation, and the elegance of white Monticello windows and doors.
The smooth rounded arches of the Monticello style are also similar to those
already apparent in UTÕs own Battle Hall, a clear demonstration of the Spanish
style. The more decadent elements of the Spanish are eliminated in accordance
with Modernism, in regard to the usual colorfully intricate Spanish engravings,
opting instead for simple designs that repeat around the top of the edifice.
Also true to ModernismÕs avoidance of complex structures, the building is
composed of just two basic geometrical shapes aside from the arches –
three four-sided rooms with triangular roofs. Due to a lack of space, I could
not incorporate courtyards and foliage as I would have liked, but
hypothetically, the amount of space taken up by buildings would have an
equivalent amount of empty space, enhanced by low hedges and centralized
courtyards. Herein, it is apparent how easy it is to combine apparently
otherwise contrasting architectural styles.
It is all too true that Òour society expects it colleges (and its architects) to be both guardians of tradition and incubators of originalityÉ to exalt individual genius but not offend the ordinary herdÉ to stand for both the old and new.Ó[viii] The University of Texas is a well-respected college, renowned for its academic prestige, pride in tradition, and establishment of innovation, and should have a collegiate campus of the same caliber to reflect that reputation. It is here, at UT, that this ideal will soon be exemplified. It is here, that with a tasteful combination of the traditional Spanish with the new Modern styles, both intrinsically in individual buildings and among the different types of edifices, that UT may reach the epitome of an ideal campus and satisfy both the old and the new.