I agree with Brad wholeheartedly in our campus’s need for a Gaudi of our own. His wildly imaginative, beautifully constructed buildings give surprising character to their environment. Their aura of fantasy and play, as Prianka and Meagan described, can provide needed contrast to our boxy modernist buildings and coincide well with our Spanish-Mediterranean architecture. Like Barcelona, we too must have our “discordant trio” (van Ryzin 582) of styles. Gaudi’s break from our harshly linear boundaries can inspire creativity and intellectual thought, much like the unfinished neighborhood of Parc Guell was intended as a “carefully masterminded colony of like-minded Catalan intellectuals” (van Ryzin 582). We should look to the past for inspiration but keep a constant eye forward for newness and modernity, so that we can create our own unique history. We must learn from Gaudi as he “created a dynamic mix of old and new, revived the role of the artisan, rejected the unnatural straight line or mechanical form and looked to the past for symbolic inspiration” however, as Brad said, he made sure not to abandon his identity. By constructing structures bordering on the abstract or the controversial we can add dimension and character to our campus while still maintaining a reverence for the past.

I personally find this style of architecture immensely appealing, I feel drawn to it as it combines the best use of past styles while still maintaining a spirit of innovation and break from tradition. For me, “modernisme” brings to mind the classic Art Nouveau, a style meant to resemble nature, but in a way that portrayed it as flowing, or almost dripping, around floral adornment. It seems almost psychedelic in its attempt to fuse the natural and the industrial almost seamlessly. Gaudi’s architecture is similar in its use of flowing textures, turning his building into “a wonder that shimmers and undulates in an almost hallucinogenic riot of colors and forms” (van Rysin 580). How appropriate that Spain, home to the surrealist movement and the likes Salvadore Dalí, should give rise to such originality. By utilizing our vast pool of diversity of people and thought, we too may be able to create a “design identity that few cities claim” (van Rysin 580).

In questioning why there are griffins in the President’s office, I agree with Prianka in the idea that these ancient symbols of power, the lion and the eagle, remind the President of his responsibility and influence over the campus, and as we graduate, how his decisions may affect the world. This fusion of the beast of land and sky may symbolize the need for the university to keep itself grounded by respecting its roots in the past, but to also always be trying to fly higher as we develop new ideas and progressive forward thinking. This idea can be reflected in our campus master plan as we create our “living essay” (van Rysin 582) on education and collegiate life.