DAISY AMES

eric felten makes an accurate account of modern architecture and its evolution toward purist and non-ornamental design, but his article is debased by his simpleton point of view. he argues that the “trademark glass-and-steel boxes of modern architecture” are still being built, but with little change or adaptation. perhaps that’s because no one can figure out how to master one, or design one as well as mies did, himself. felten further states, “thanks to this ascetic aesthetic, we’ve seen decades of buildings impoverished by plainness.” this statement further highlights the fact that he is oblivious to subtler details in these buildings, which makes such “glass boxes” enigmatic masterpieces. ornament is not detail nor does a molding provide any more comfort than an exposed i-beam… these are socially constructed entities that only exist to those who cannot read a building for what it’s worth - literally in plan or subconsciously in spirit.

paul graham writes about the things we own, the stuff we accumulate over time, the value we place on our belongings, the money we spend acquiring them, the time it takes out of our lives, and the burden we feel by being weighed down by them. growing up in a household with four older bothers - hectic, uncontrollable, dirty boys - an image of a sprawling array of toys, balls, and damaged walls immediately pops into mind for most.  but actually our parents, minimalist modern architecture enthusiasts, despised clutter. we were discouraged from keeping things for long, and i have to say, i don’t miss anything i ever threw away. we had an active youth, spending a majority of our time outdoors wandering around our neighborhood or most notably, playing sports. there was little for us to do at home, no video games, board games, toys or junk to play with, so as a result, home became a place where we simply slept and spent time with the family.

even in college my brother only had a tree stump (yes, a tree stump) and a guitar in his room, while he crammed his matress and the few clothes he had in his closet. extreme, i know (how thoreau-chic!)… so his “home” was a place for him to sleep and study. today, i keep my life simple too - no clutter, no unnecessary belongings, no distractions, but a soothingly bare, white, tiny, sun-drenched apartment…  and a wall of books! i feel free when i have less. i prefer that my daily activities define my life along with interaction with others which i feel ignites a kind of education that “things” and “stuff” cannot stimulate. no photo collage, snow-globe, indian dream catcher, stuffed animal, decorated lamp can reflect my life better than words i speak or the things i do. it’s not the belongings that i come home to that make me feel at home, but instead, its reflecting on the day’s thoughts, interactions and experiences that help define who i am.