Homes redesigned by a pandemic
The earth has not been universally re- oriented since the Chicxulub asteroid ended the Cretaceous Period 65 million years ago.
In the 21st century, humanity, like that asteroid, has come to dominate our world. Climate change is an obvious global change wrought by humans, but slow to convey its existential threat. Now, COVID- 19, a fully global pandemic, has made it clear that this era’s easy and fluid connections between humans have immediate and deep consequences.
My hope is that we will not be this epoch’s dinosaurs, despite all the forced change. I think understanding the way people adapt to change can give all of us hope in times of fear. Architecture is referred to as the “Mother of the Arts.” It is the synthesis of aesthetics, technology, use, the environment, even culture in the way we build. Building is perhaps the most human of human acts. How we make things reflects how we see the world. COVID- 19 has revealed that we did not see the consequences of how we see the world.
It has only been three months since the COVID- 19 asteroid hit our lives, and humanity is in a fenzied rush to devine how this impact changes the way we build. In March, Alyssa Giacobbe of Architectural Digest heralded the acceleration of the death of the open office plan, new ways of defining “open spaces,” the use of “anti- bacterial fabrics,” and the elimination of common access bathrooms.
Forbes Magazine chimes in with reporter Jeffery Steele who talks to architect Marianne McKenna who sees other architects “hitting pause” in their professions.
Dwell magazine has been thinking of “How the COVID- 19 Crisis Will Change Our Homes Forever.” The post- World War II bathroom, five feet wide, seven feet long, is too tiny, and the whole house will change in favor of large open spaces — deterring easy viral spread, and there will be, of course, new focus on the home office.
This rush to judgment reflects the fact that architects design buildings with other people’s money and values, just like the immutable certainties of gravity and the environment.
Many architects have defined ourselves by the branding of a “style,” or the use of cutting edge technologies, or even the elusive pursuit of “beauty” in their work. But those crutches, tropes and aspirations, go silent when suddenly the game has no board. Into a new place that does not offer “correct” or defendable aesthetics and approaches, all of us need to take a breath and listen.
What do you value? Have those values changed? How has that change affected the way you live? Our homes are simply our largest suit of clothes. They should reflect those who wear them, or they bind, droop and chafe.
In our coping with forced change, all humans inevitably jump to conclusions. There are endless thinkpieces proclaiming “work from home is here to stay,”
“skyscrapers are dead” or “people will grow their own food,” may all be true. Or none of it may be true.
Just like the asteroid violently told the dinosaurs, the world may just be telling us, again, just to get over ourselves. Rather than be victims of our circumstances, we can listen and learn before we act. Architects can start by giving a voice to all those involved in making a building, including those in the community where you build and then weigh all that criteria, so that this lack of control becomes a creative opportunity.