Well, no, not really. I just managed to bamboozle my way into a Chicago-themed group exhibition at the Bridgeport Art Center with a couple of low-grade watercolor paintings I had sitting in a pile and gathering dust.
Do not worry about the spoiler above – there is a lot of other art to see there until Sept. 1. It’s well worth the visit, especially every third Friday of the month, when you can also check out some of the artists’ studios in the center’s vast innards.
The BP oil disaster continues, with heartbreaking results. I lived in southern Mississippi for about a year, so this is more personal to me than to most northern boys. I just found a widget from PBS that tells you more or less how much oil has gone into the Gulf of Mexico – but it doesn’t show you the brown pelicans, sea turtles and dolphins that it has killed, not to mention the people whose livelihoods it has ruined.
I don’t even have the heart to make snide remarks about BP here – they’re a bunch of callous murderers and money-grubbing destroyers of life. Period.
This is the third part of a post that starts here, and continues here.
In my “standard” tech class, we continued to develop the design of our studio projects from the fall semester. I have to say this was one of the more eye-opening experiences I’ve had at the SoA, which is lucky to still have people like Dan Wheeler around. It really changed my outlook not only on my project, which until now I saw as an exercise in complete fantasy, but also on the possibility of reaching beyond what is “buildable”. It definitely helped to have someone as experienced and incredibly motivated as Dan guiding us with these, but it also showed me that things aren’t necessarily as impossible as they seem at first.
Here’s the final project from the class:
Finally, but not by any means last, was my theory class with Annie Pedret. In her research Annie focuses on early Postmodernism, and so in general did our class. However, our own research subjects were only very loosely related to the class subject. I wrote a paper on the influence of the Modern Movement on post-WWII Polish architecture. This was a kind of a personal exploration, since my earliest personal reactions to architecture involved Polish buildings, most of which are not and probably will never be noted in an international context. I still remember rows of rhomboid-roofed pavilions on then-Marchlewskiego in Warsaw as one of the first buildings I really noticed, when I was probably no older than six or seven. I’m not sure if anybody else remembers them, but I clearly recall being fascinated by that roofline.
Another is the “new” church in Bukowina Tatrzańska by Wojciech Pietrzyk, built to resemble a shepherd’s shelter, but in a completely Modern idiom, its spacious light-filled interior still resonating with me more than thirty years after I first saw it. Seeing a picture of the interior in a 360-degree panorama today, I’m only surprised at the amount of folky detail, which completely escaped my attention back then – or maybe I should say that it didn’t interfere with my enjoyment of it at the time. Still it’s a gem.
The research is one of the first I’ve done that I’d love to continue. Maybe because of the personal aspect, but at least partly because the lack of source material in the US made it difficult to do an even halfway-decent job. I was incredibly surprised by the help I got from the Polish Academy of Sciences, but even the journal they sent me of their own volition (apparently the ladies who work there chipped in to buy a copy) only offered glimpses of what I was really interested in. So now I’m thinking that if I can’t find a decent job after graduation – and things aren’t looking too happy in the construction industry anywhere really – I just might go for a doctorate in Polish or Central European architecture. How would that be for a twist of fate?
This post starts here.
One of the more unusual classes was a tech elective with Doug Garafolo, in which we were supposed to design and build a prototype of a freely selected object that somehow related to architecture. I came up with a modular shelving unit that can in theory be expanded indefinitely – using only one panel and one connector type. Here’s the basic idea, though I admit originally I was going to go with some type of white plastic for the panels:
And a couple of views of the prototype:
I see something like this used both as a standard shelf and a room divider-slash-storage space:
Comments, good or bad, definitely welcome.
This post continues here.
This post comes to you in three more-or-less easily digestible bits, or as one of my professors would put it, easy pieces (choke, sputter). Part two is here, and three here.
I had a lot to say at the end of the semester, but unfortunately I had too much to do to sit down and write it all down. Now it’s a bit late to work up the same level of sanctimonious fury over some of the less major bits. But for those who are interested, here’s a more-or-less factual run-down of my semester’s doings:
My housing studio this semester was an apartment (or more accurately a co-op) building on Division and Paulina (i.e. here). The main idea was to create a space for a community of creative types could live and work. To do this I put a series of studio spaces connected by a common terrace area at the top of the building, with each studio connected by a private staircase to one of the apartments below:
In keeping with the egalitarian concept of the building, all of the apartments have access to street frontage, each with a loggia protected from street noise and the southerly sun by wooden louvers. To get light into the long and narrow apartments, I put in light wells that also serve as individual (though not entirely “private”) terraces for the apartments. Access is from the front of the building through five staircases, each serving four apartments.
Here’s a rendering of the Division facade:
This is the layout of a single third-story apartment, with the studio space on top:
And here’s how the whole thing comes together:
All in all, this was a fantastic semester and a very interesting studio, even if I’m not entirely satisfied with the work I did.
This scandalously self-indulgent post continues here. Part 3, if you are so resilient, is here.
Just wanted to share a few animations Eryk put together over the past few weeks:
The last one he did all by himself, no help from me whatsoever outside uploading it to YouToob.
Eryk and Maia have turned in their Young Authors competition entries in school. I am particularly impressed with Eryk’s style of writing. Not bad for a 10-year-old. Here are the “books”:
Eryk’s:
Maia’s:
As I read over my arguments against Murray Rothbard’s “For a New Liberty”, I started feeling uneasy about the rambling, unfocused writing. So here is a shorter and hopefully somewhat clearer explanation of what I meant:
First, something that may not have been really clear in the original post: I’m all for personal liberty. I think it’s peachy-keen, and I think we should work as hard as possible to expand the scope of liberty available to everyone. The problem I have with Rothbard is not the goal, but the reasoning he presents to arrive at it. Simply put, poor reasoning is easily refutable, and there is a very solid basis for supporting individual liberty. Unfortunately, Rothbard’s is not it. He bases his argument on the concept of “natural law”, which he doesn’t substantiate other than by stating that people have natural needs that they need to be able to satisfy. However, he doesn’t say why these needs are supposed to generate “natural rights”.
My argument is that people don’t have ANY natural rights – meaning rights outside the social framework. A hermit living in the mountains has no “rights” – claiming the “natural right to life” in the face of a mountain lion would be absurd. He either has the skills and luck needed to survive, or he doesn’t – it’s as simple as that. No rights involved, because without other people around, rights are a moot concept. If you have no rights in a natural environment, it’s easy to see there can be no “natural rights”. End of argument.
Now if rights are a social construct, then we have to consider what the “society” that grants them really consists of. Rothbard argues that society is a mistaken concept – that society is really the interaction of many individuals and that it is the individuals that have the power to act, individually. In his view, the concept of society is an excuse used by those in power to justify their actions. That’s partly true, but I think that society is a force independent of the will (or if you prefer the power) of the individuals that constitute it, even those most powerful. The example I like to use is the behavior of a body on which a number of forces act in different directions – the body will not move along the path of any of the constituent forces. It will move along the line of the resultant force – which though it is not an entity in itself, is the sum total of the real forces acting on the body. The same goes for a society – it changes differently than even its most powerful members would like to see – weaker power centers exert some influence, changing the outcome. Therefore, since “society” is not the product of any individual but the resultant of complicated interactions within it, in certain circumstances it is reasonable to treat it as an entity even if it does not have a unitary intelligence of its own.
This brings us back to the idea of rights – contrary to what Rothbard believes, we are dependent on the society in which we live for our survival and well-being, and therefore should consider it in our calculations. The utilitarian argument which he rejects – that personal liberty is useful for the common good – is in fact the best reason why people should be given the liberty to act the way they want to. It is also, as Rothbard rightly points out in arguing against it, the reason why sometimes the interests of “society” should prevail against the particular interests of individuals. However, the utilitarian approach shows itself more reasonable than ideology, even if it isn’t as pretty and clear-cut as Rothbard would like it to be.
Note: For those of you with a low tolerance for long-winded arguments and poor off-the cuff writing, I’ve summarized this post here: http://cygielski.com/blog/2009/08/05/another-take-on-rothbard/. Please read that instead. I’m keeping this post only for the sake of chronological accuracy.
At the recommendation of my friend Steve I’ve been reading Murray Rothbard’s “For a New Liberty: The Libertarian Manifesto”. Well, the first few chapters have certainly shown me why I’m not, and likely will never be, a libertarian.
I guess it would be easiest to start with Rothbard’s concept of society – or actually his denial of its existence. Now, on the face of it the argument seems reasonable – there’s no single sentient entity called “society” that could actually make the decisions and bear the responsibilities that have been laid at its door. Therefore, Rothbard concludes, it’s nonsense to talk of society as a force – it’s all up to the individuals that constitute it.
What he misses, however, is the fact that society does not have to be an entity to have a will separate from that of its consituents. To illustrate what I mean, imagine a number of forces acting in different directions to a body. The object will, not surprisingly, move in the direction of the resultant force, and not that of any of the individual forces. The same goes for society – what a society does is the resultant of the projection of the wills of its constituents. While some have a lot of influence over what happens (call it “power”) and some very little, even in an absolutist or totalitarian system nothing happens without the interaction of many power centers, and a single individual can’t ever completely control everything that happens. Thus, “society” does not have to be a sentient individual to be considered a unit that carries out its own actions, separate from those of its members. And being social animals, we are very dependent on our social contract for our continued existence.
The second thing that I disagree with him on, and this is really a fundamental one, is the idea of “natural law”. He cites three basic reasons for believing in the value of individual liberty: the “emotivist” or romantic, the utilitarian, and “natural law” argument. He rejects the first two as, respectively, too subjective to be used as an argument (you either “feel” it or not) or too flexible when circumstances favor placing limits on personal liberty. He sides with the “natural law” camp:
While the behavior of plants and at least the lower animals is determined by their biological nature or perhaps by their “instincts,” the nature of man is such that each individual person must, in order to act, choose his own ends and employ his own means in order to attain them. … Since men can think, feel, evaluate, and act only as individuals, it becomes vitally necessary for each man’s survival and prosperity that he be free to learn, choose, develop his faculties, and act upon his knowledge and values. This is the necessary path of human nature; to interfere with and cripple this process by using violence goes profoundly against what is necessary by man’s nature for his life and prosperity.
Now even in the 1970s when he wrote it, the idea that humans do not act on instinct but rationally choose their actions must have been at least suspect. In fact, the more you look at the way people act, the harder it is to find examples of actions dictated by pure reasoning and logic. Most of our actions appear to stem from our basic drives for survival and procreation – and these can all be boiled down into the Nietschean element of power – the ability to control ourselves and our surroundings.
Rothbard takes a different tack: he goes on to elaborate the principle of “natural law” into man’s “natural rights”, including the chief one, of self-ownership. It’s nice-sounding stuff, and something that few people would oppose as a principle. However, he fails to see that all rights we have are purely social, not natural, constructs. The rights he refers to were unknown to many people throughout history – slaves, indentured servants, harem wives – you get the idea. If you consider an individual living outside society – let’s say in the mountains somewhere – he has no “rights” at all. He can’t claim a “natural right to life” in the face of a mountain lion – he either has the power to survive or not, nothing more. Therefore, it’s easy to see that there are no “natural rights” – all the rights we have are a result of social covenants. Simply speaking, society – or the people who wield real power in society – decided that it is even in their own interest to ensure that an individual can only be denied so much. Likely as not this was the result of the realization that nothing in this life is given forever (i.e. is not a “natural right”) and it’s better to set up a limit on how much can be taken from you, just in case.
Rothbard then goes on to expand this concept into his entire libertarian philosophical framework. Once you overlook the fundamental flaw at its base, the argument seems very logical – if you’ve got a natural right to control your body, then you need the freedom to maintain it – to grow crops, clothe it, and so forth. This brings on the “right” to ownership of the means of production and to free enterprise. But with no “natural rights”, the whole argument falls apart.
Aerial photographer Yann Arthus-Bertrand’s view of the Earth and how it is changing. Make sure you watch this visually stunning video in HD if your equipment will let you:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqxENMKaeCU
also available as a copyright-free torrent:
http://www.mininova.org/tor/2657160
