Gaudi and the Tenets of Good Architecture After our discussions about different styles of architecture, as well as what sort of architecture would be appropriate for UT, I found Gaudi's approach to architecture to be an interesting example. Here was someone who actually put into practice many of the things we'd discussed as tenets of good architecture, especially architecture's need to be true to nature. Gaudi took this to an extreme: he "banished right angles and straight lines" (van Ryzin 581) from his work. This resulted in a style of whimsical, flowing architecture that, arguably, should blend into nature more smoothly and naturally than its traditional counterpart. The curves of the buildings don't set them harshly at odds with the surrounding nature. The colors and materials -- smooth gray stone, bright tiles, circular designs, "unfinished brick and wrought iron" (van Ryzin 580) -- though unusual, somehow seem natural.     Façade of Casa Mila Colorful tile decoration   Another characteristic of Gaudi's work that resonates with our discussions is his reference to the past: he used past architecture, a “bizarre mix of past styles...fueled his imagination” (van Ryzin 580), as a jumping off point for the development of his own style. I think many of us found the physical manifestation of Modernism’s insistence on breaking from the past and making something new somewhat distasteful. The “floating box” is simply alien to our experience and often times I feel repulsed by such architecture. Though Gaudi’s work is extremely unique, untraditional, and, in a sense, modern, I still feel drawn to his buildings. The colorful designs are simply massive works of art which delight and engage the viewer.     Curves of Casa Mila Vaguely grotesque balconies of Casa Batllo   Even though Gaudi’s architecture includes many aspects of good architecture, I don’t know if I’d want either to live in a Gaudi-style house or in a city with a great deal of this type of architecture. Though more natural than Modernism’s boxes, Gaudi’s designs are still otherworldly. The contortions sometimes become grotesque, almost threatening; the serpentine curves can seem labyrinthine; and, as Prianka said, his design can seem like a “fun house--there is no rhyme or reason for the shape and asymmetry.” As humans, I think we enjoy and often need “rhyme and reason” in our experience of the world. Though Gaudi’s magnificent buildings would be amazing places to visit, but, perhaps simply as a result of habit, I find comfort in the order of right angles and rectangular structure.