Festival dell'architettura

Snøetta, Library of Alexandria, Alexandria in Egypt, 1989-2001

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Abstract

The author questions himself on the existence of Criticism, on its state of health and the ways of practising it. "Places to Criticize" sets itself the objective, not so much of restoring dignity to criticism or critics, but of verifying the possibility of building hierarchies of value that do not wait for the necessarily long times of historiography. Nine aspirant critics were invited to choose as many works of architecture (or urban spaces) to try to show their good and bad points.

I.

Does architectural criticism exist? And, if it does exist, what are its methods, assessment parameters, unavoidable capital virtues and vices? Who is authorized to speak of architecture, and why? How is a judgement of architecture formed, when it is contemporary architecture that is at stake, namely, those buildings, cities or territories that are born and grow (or die) around us? Is there a specific language of architectural criticism that does not slip into esoteric jargon? What relationship might still be built between history and criticism? And lastly; could architectural criticism play a leading role in guiding the choices that countenance the construction of contemporary cities and territories?

It is not easy to answer these questions, especially without answering the first one, i.e. without knowing whether architectural criticism is alive or is simply a way of speaking about architecture, conveniently sidestepping the pitfalls of philology and history.

More than ten years after the death of Manfredo Tafuri, the time seems ripe to start discussing the subject, to confirm its limits and cognitive and interpretative capacities. Architecture, also in Italy, is by now at the centre of attention of an increasingly vast audience, who have problems with not understanding the sense of what is happening around them, even if they do not seem to possess all the tools to form a judgement. Hence, the objective of the initiative Places to Criticize, part of the 2006 edition of Parma's Festival of Architecture, was not to restore dignity to criticism or critics, but rather to verify the possibility of building hierarchies of value that do not wait for the necessarily long times of historiography.

Nine (aspiring) critics were invited to choose the same number of architectural works (or urban environments) to attempt to show their merits and shortcomings. Together, these works of architecture yielded a documentary exhibition, an integral part of the project, since it offered an occasion to reflect on what homogeneous parameters might exist for each possible criticism, also from an iconographic point of view.

Choosing the critics and selecting the works of architecture was already an exercise in criticism, conceivably one that unavoidably conditioned the entire project. The undersigned chose the former: each of whom then chose an exemplary case to criticize. The result was a partial panorama, perhaps too partial, which nonetheless aimed to be a first, tiny contribution to resurrect a by-now moribund practice, in Italy at least[1].

II.

It may not be such ill fortune, but architectural criticism – as such – is not one of the disciplinary areas recognized by Italian universities and research. That apart, and not just in Italy, there are no Chairs to aspire to and there are no manuals of theory or "good practice" to consult: a ghost profession or a clandestine trade, we might say. So who exactly is an architectural critic, given that no one authorizes others to become one or to declare themselves as such? It is not easy to answer, even if some hypotheses can be made based on what happens most often. In a first, rough assessment, there are three trades that end up exercising their right to criticize, no better defined: architects, journalists, and historians of architecture and the contemporary city.

Clearly, everyone has the right to state his or her opinion on this or that project; everyone can feel the urge to speak well or badly about this or that work of architecture. Architects via an ethical duty, journalists via a duty to give news, historians because virtually every non-fictional narration by now seems to fall into their brief. However, the point is not who exercises the right to criticize, but what this right consists of and how it can be exercised. It is a question of cultural strategies and cognitive methods, by respecting which the right to criticize is acquired, and without which one can only aspire to idle gossip.

The critics invited to Parma – it can be inferred from their curricula – often have something to do with the history of architecture. This was not a predetermined choice, but perhaps not an accident, either. Among architects, journalists and historians, it is the latter's trade in particular that has reflected on the ways to build critical judgement by recounting past events, no matter whether a short or long time since: these are facts to take account of. For their part, serious journalists have always taught us how to observe reality, also by investigating less obvious aspects, in order to reconstruct an unforeseen outline at the beginning: a task not so far from that of the historian, at the end of the day. Moreover, both historians and journalists seem to carry out work that has much in common with that of the policeman or judge, always heedful of the proof before formulating a judgement (crisis, in fact).

In this light, architects are actually those under investigation: it seems imprudent to entrust them with investigations.

III.

A part of the difficulties that criticism and critics of architecture encounter appears to be linked to the uncertainty of their own scientific statute. For example, it is anything but clear within what boundaries a criticism can be made. If, in fact, it is fairly obvious that places like Parma Cathedral or Colorno Park are historical objects, a greater dubiety subsists for (already) equally famous places like the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao or Potsdamer Platz in Berlin. Everyone erects a barrier around every act of judgement, which may then turn out to be extremely insubstantial. The former constructions would be works of art, the latter would not: this is the most inconsistent distinction (but also the most frequent). The former constructions would be old enough to boast consolidated sources and therefore would be material for history, the latter would not: nevertheless, sometimes it might only be necessary to seek consolidated sources, also for more recent, even very recent, objects of study. The former would be obsolete objects, devoid of any capacity to influence the present, while the latter would be living material, still operative. Yet, according to many architects, in the mind's eye the Parthenon would seem to live on more easily than the Munich Stadium in Bavaria.

In reality, everything would appear to be a potential object to criticize. Once again, it is better to refer to the possible cultural stratagems at work behind a critical project. From this point of view, it is more important to ask ourselves why we should speak of one work of architecture rather than another one, and in what terms. In fairly provisional terms, we could say that historians cannot tolerate a different objective for their work, from reconstruction to historical truth (whatever that means); critics, on their part, are summoned to judge a work to the extent to which it means something else, it may become a metaphor of a more generic attitude, in the present and perhaps in the future: of a taste, a tendency, or even of a frivolous, fleeting fashion. History cannot deal with these terms, but criticism can. For the historian who writes of the Parthenon it is of little interest to know how many post-modern architects keep a model of it alongside their computer, while the critic who writes on the Munich Stadium must be interested in how much this construction might mirror a current or predictable scenario. Yet again, it is a question of stratagem and method, not of objects: it is possible to write a criticism of the Parthenon or a history of the Munich Stadium without upsetting the order of things.

IV.

In these conditions, the life of architectural critics is made awkward by the difficulty of identifying sites suitable for their practice. In Italy, the situation is depressing: the newspapers simply ignore the built environment, unless there are building scandals or destruction of land to talk about (even if justifiably). It is true that certain famous architects do put pen to paper, but sometimes they do so only to credit their own work or discredit that of others – and in doing so thwart any critical effort, even the best intentioned. Often, architecture is written of (or is compelled to be) while writing of something else: books, exhibitions, travels. This is a paradoxical scenario, with very few exceptions, in which everything is reviewed, from TV reality shows to reissues of 'fifties records. Yet, when it is necessary simply to speak of a recently opened work of architecture, it is expected that the architect should be nothing less that a media star. On occasion, this paradoxical scenario appears to be mimicked even by specialized journals, which sometimes seem to write about everything except architecture: to the extent that, at the newsagent's or bookshop, they are widely ignored by specialist readers par excellence, namely, students and professionals.

In these cases – it is true – even before the problem of criticism, there is the problem of information. What information needs to be given about a work of architecture so that readers can follow critics in their reasoning? This is far from clear, either to critics or to the iconographs who deal with illustrating the above-mentioned publications. Journalists' manuals of professional ethics could be of great help in this sense, for instance by eliminating any misunderstanding, any allusion to apparently shared codes, any sarcasm or complacency that might be muddled with the information. However – and this is well known – behind anyone who sits down at the computer to scribble a couple of lines stands Roberto Longhi or at least Alberto Arbasino: risking to hide them, in the space of 4,000 characters, would be a crime.

V.

As always happens in uncertain terrain, not even Places to Criticize could clarify all the doubts on the practice of criticizing architecture. There are too many trades, more or less interested, too many variables at stake. If, however, this were all, it would not even have been worthwhile dreaming up a project whose primary objective was not so much to provide the epistemological coordinates of architectural criticism, as to elicit its absolute necessity.

This is not about offering a useful service to the more willing students or less cynical professionals: architectural critics must be able to (re)conquer their cultural role as a tool for the construction of the civic and political conscience of the citizens, democratically called upon to decide on their vital space, whether directly or indirectly, but with utter awareness. Yet again, the interest is not in the object under discussion (an art museum or railway station, a surveyor's cottage or the mega-villa of an archistar), but in how it can be discussed, and why. The critic must (once more) be the main tool through which every citizen, and not just architects or town planners, can understand what is happening to the substance of the city, to the built environment. Failing again in this mission, perhaps the only one that is really worthwhile, would be the definitive signal of a drifting apart of architecture and civil society that risks confining architecture to the role of a sophisticated game among the well-intended.