For the majority of living memory, we have been in a world dominated by functionality. When “new construction” comes to your city or town, I would hazard a guess that your mind turns first to an uninspired metal high-rise, an overoptimized grocery experience, or a parasitic data center before it comes to a red-brick library or charming little event hall.
In Chicagoland, for example, we have recently had to reckon with the long-delayed completion of the Obama Presidential Center. Billed as a resource for the local community, it looms over Hyde Park neighborhoods, a gray monolith conglomerated from awkward angles. I would not be surprised to catch Saruman peeking over the rooftop. It is hard to imagine feeling welcome in such a behemoth.
So long has it been since commercial, community, and religious spaces diverged from anything we might usually call “beautiful,” that we might even be tempted to view any effort to beautify our environments with suspicion. Is it a sales tactic or a political diversion? Are we being manipulated? At best, we might find a quaint attempt to recover the loose threads of our unraveled historical tradition. Beautiful spaces have become a novelty, a form of individual expression, but hardly worth imagining on a larger scale.
We are probably not the first culture to treat our shelters as more function than form. But we are, perhaps, the first to do so with full knowledge and capacity to make them otherwise. We are certainly the first to trek down endless aisles of fluorescent lights and overstimulating packaging, knowing every inch is designed specifically to part us from a few more dollars. We are the first to spend more time considering our online aesthetic than our real-world surroundings.
Architectural Ornament
In a society that bows to its economy above all else, it seems self-evident to us that anything not in service of profit would be cast aside in pursuit of that great pearl. Yet, for most of history, that was not the case. For most civilizations, advancements in science and engineering went hand in hand with advancements in aesthetic complexity, resulting in some of the greatest structures the world has ever seen: the pyramids of Egypt and Mesoamerica, the Colosseum and St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, the Hagia Sophia and the great French and German cathedrals.
Decoration was not incidental to these works; it was an essential element of their craftsmanship. Practically, embellishments projected wealth and status, reinforced power, and encouraged social cohesion through shared motifs and stories. However, on a deeper level, beautiful spaces reflected the hearts and minds of the communities they served. They indicated quality construction and a focus on the people who would actually use the space.
A small American church might hold a special collection to fund stained-glass windows from Munich so that everyone would have something lovely to look at while they prayed. A town might invest in an elaborately carved fountain to adorn the main square, providing drinking water or at least a place to sit and chat as people walked past. A city might go all out on its train station, the better to impress visitors and bring pride to those returning home.
In many cities today, grassroots movements aim to beautify communal areas. They tend to emphasize walkability, green spaces, and architecture that facilitates rather than hinders human connection. And, at least in the United States, architectural firms and city planners are beginning to notice. In every city I visit, it seems some form of intentional community atmosphere is slowly taking hold. There is certainly hope for the future, but to reclaim our environments for people rather than cars and companies, we need to recall what the world looked like before their reign.
Art Nouveau and the Victorians
Parlor in a New York House, 1850s
During the century leading up to World War II, the Western world alone saw countless trends in design. The world was speeding up as a result of industrialization and, much like today, increasing social alienation led people to look to the past for inspiration on how to conduct their lives and fill their spaces. What emerged were styles that drew upon history while retaining the most emblematic aspects of their contemporary cultures.
