Stuggle / meditation / acceptance.

This semester has been a strong test of my general approval of architecture, and more specifically, my place within it. Of course, I'm not talking physical architecture here, but rather the industry, practice, and teaching of architecture. To sum it up neatly, I've realized for myself, like so many before me, that architecture is a sham and a general waste of time.

I don't know when my resistance to the whole concept began, but being in Italy has definitely proliferated my disdain for architecture to a higher degree. I think this is because my main grief deals with the authenticity of our practice, and for me currently, the authenticity of architectural instruction. Over winter break I picked up a book randomly from the architecture library at school, Architecture Depends by Jeremy Till. I was only able to get through the first few chapters before coming here to Florence, but in it he offers (among other things) an unapologetic criticism of the architecture studio, often humorous, but at the same time painfully true. The main message of the book isn't exactly this, but Till relates the architecture studio to an autonomous culture, trying so desperately to separate itself from society being both self-referential and pushing its own bourgeois stylistic code.

Unfortunately his critiques are incredibly relevant for me when I consider my current existence. But for me it's not so much the professors expecting students to perform at certain standards, thus assimilating into the “society” by using meaningless words, designing projects with catchy one-word concepts, and accepting the aesthetics and trends of contemporary design to name a few, but rather the students' apathetic acceptance of these ludicrous methods. Because let's admit, passive acceptance better guarantees a good grade, and a good grade will eventually lead to an (idealized) well-paying job. I asked a fellow student a while ago, who had said he didn't come into architecture school expecting what he found (being that architecture to him meant the traditional-style house he grew up in), if he truly believed in what he was now doing. In short, his answer was no, and even openly admitted to conforming to the architecture world in assumption that that was what he had to do. And I know that this doesn't just happen at Kent, but that it manifests itself in programs across the world with schools pumping out “architects” who are merely shadows of unsubstantial ideologies.

I said earlier that Italy has been a catalyst for this realization, and in fact being in Florence at this time has very conveniently lined up with my griefs in that being here has proliferated my hated towards the inauthentic. Here in Florence I have been unexpectedly bombarded with fakery...namely the presence of tourism as an industry and all the atrocious things that spring from it...more so than anything I could have experienced before in Ohio where tourism is admittedly a foreign concept in the realms of coexisting with everyday life. So it bothers me, and I mean this in the worst possible way, that Florence is a Renaissance amusement park. This amusement park is only fun if you remain ignorant to truth, believing that everything around you really is from past eras, traditional, and authentically "Italian" as the people here want the world to believe. In fact, so much here is a sham that the boundaries between what is faking authenticity and truly authentic are horribly blurred and almost indistinguishable. To complicate this, when I try to seek out the authentically Italian I don't know where to start because I don't know what the point of originality is here. But more than that, ironically attempting to study contemporary architecture in a culture that is outright against what I am here to learn would make anyone uneasy and a little bit disillusioned.

So what do I do and how do I reconcile the fact that the world that I am a part of and feeding into is so inauthentic? My response thus far has been a complete lack of motivation or inspiration and the work I've done in studio to this point would reflect that. And what does that say about me if I realize all of this but still remain without a single creative urge? Is the joke ultimately on me, because I can observe all of this in incredible anguish and nobody cares? I came into architecture with a very innocent and naive aspiration of changing something about the world, but I never would have thought that I would end up wanting to change something about architecture. And I find that very disheartening.

Certainly the story doesn't end here, but starts here. In the case of studio, motivation has (somehow) found me again and over the past two weeks I managed to push my project (slightly) forward. My battle with authenticity is just beginning and I think that accepting this is probably the best step I can take at this point. A friend recently reminded me that school is about finding yourself and what you're actually interested in, despite the polluted situation we find ourselves in. I'd like to think that this personal battle is evidence that I'm doing exactly that, but if not, then it at the very least helps keep it all in perspective.

Sketching // a progression from first to last.

I'm currently taking a sketching and drawing course here in Florence.  Freehand sketching and drawing...no straight-edge permitted.  I believe I came into this course okay at sketching, but having never devoted much time to it, I've never developed a drawing language, a style, of my own.  This course, if worth anything, is at least worth that, and I think I'm finally coming into one....or at least on my way.  

The first sketch (of the Piazza della Santissima Annunziata) was interesting.  It was our first class, and with no direction we were asked to sit and sketch.  Since class is 2 1/2 hours, I technically finished my sketch in about half the time but continued to render and render until I ended up with a fairytale-like scene of the piazza.  You learn from your mistakes.  

More to come.

Cioccolato.

Chocolate festival in Florence this past weekend.  The best thing to happen in the city yet.  Hands down.

Mom, this is for you.  But, unless you come in March, you'll have to wait until May to find out its identity. 

It was a chocolate lover's paradise.  A tent in Santa Croce went up and was soon filled with booths from all over Italy representing different cioccolaterias.  Here's the website for the event, in Italian.  Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera with me to snap a few images.  All you need to know is it was amazing, you should be jealous, and I was quite content that night.  

Firenze, another fiera del cioccolato soon?

The sched.

Today concludes the first full week of classes here at the Palazzo de Cerchi in Florence. To allow for travel on the weekends, classes end on Thursday creating a three day weekend. My schedule is both jam-packed and quite open, since I have one lecture on Monday, a crazy day on Tuesday and Thursday, and no classes on Wednesday. BUT, most importantly, I find all of my classes to be at least mildly amusing...a big improvement compared to the unreasonable, mandatory, and technical classes of last semester (Yes, that would be Environmental Technology and Methods & Materials. And yes, I did beyond horrible in both classes.)

The schedule (roughly) is as follows >>>

Monday // 11:00 – 2:45a Forces That Shape Cities > Marcello Fantoni
Tuesday // 8:30 – 10a Basic Conversational Italian > Roberto
10 – 12p Sketching and Drawing > Sylvie
12 – 2p Italian Art from Giotto to Bernini > Rocky Ruggiero
2 – 6p Third Year Design Studio > Alberto Francini
Wednesday // nothing!
Thursday // same as Tuesday. (And yes, that leaves no time for lunch in case you were wondering.)
Friday – Sunday // romping about Europe

Other classes // Reading cities > includes 4 mandatory weekend field trips to different cities in Italy
Urban Design > writing intensive component to Studio course

In total > 20 credit hours.

One of the pleasant differences between Kent campus classes and my current classes is that most are held within the city itself, outside of the classroom. Today, our lecture about the history of Florence in Italian Art was spent in the buildings or within the public squares we were actually learning about. Later, we will be taking class-time trips to the many museums and galleries within Florence to do the same. I can't tell you how incredible and beneficial it is to see the work in reality, rather than the slide. In fact, one upcoming lecture will be held on the top of the Duomo - extreme lecturing. (We are excused from that lecture if we have claustrophobia or a fear of heights.) In any case, the classes are much more immersive, interactive, and personal than anything I've experienced on the main campus. A welcome change, no doubt.

I will update on other more personal matters some time this weekend. A lot has been running through my head, but I'm not yet sure how to put it into coherent sentences.

The power of pop stars.

The last place I want to hear Rihanna squealing her lastest single is while contemplating the fenestration on the Duomo, but in Florence American music is the sound of the city.

The prevalence of American pop music is astounding. This was something I wasn't expecting in the least. As an example we were entertained by Shania Twain, The Bee Gees, and I think Busta Rhymes while eating in a quaint little snack bar today for lunch. I never realized the power that these pop stars hold, especially if the entire world is listening to their work. Is it a shame, or a benefit?

Figuring out italy.

For someone who has never been abroad (okay, I've visited Canada but we can all agree that hardly counts), studying in Italy this semester is a big change. And being transplanted from cow-town Ohio, maybe even more so.

Orientation week started yesterday. This is meant to help us in our transition to Italian life, and also to complete necessary tasks and documents associated with our extended stay. We heard from the Florence program director, Marcello Fantoni, first. Even though his welcome was far from brief, he said some very important things that shed light on some the troubles I have been experiencing since my arrival here in Florence. Amongst them, and the most notable to me, is that Fantoni made a remark comparing Florence to an American mall or amusement park. He claimed the two to be very similar, especially considering themes, but where the theme in a mall tends toward a “tropical” environment with palm trees and foliage, here, the theme is the Renaissance. He warned us to not be deceived by the appearance of it all. And taking a second look around with his words in mind I now see clearly why I had the uncomfortable feeling that the city was a fabricated movie set from the very beginning. Because that's exactly what it is. Of course, Florence has its moments of truth I am sure (and am even more motivated to discover them), the real intent behind the city isn't so obvious. I am still feeling it out, but the city will have to prove itself to me as I get to know it better.

Fantoni urged us to seek out the real Italy and the real Europe, which he believes exists outside of the main tourist cities. This has had me thinking a lot over the past day. It appeared that Fantoni essentially dismissed the substantially of entire cities based on their touristy status. He offered another example when explaining his experiences traveling to the States. Specifically, he believes New York City is not an accurate depiction of the United States as a whole. While I agree with him, I also disagree because I do believe there is truth there. But being a citizen of the country familiar with its customs, habits, political landscape, and history, I can decipher somewhat easily what is reality and what is fake or for show in a comparatively familiar place. This however is not true for me in Italy. Since I know almost nothing about the country, I cannot fully understand one thing from another. It's people, it's buildings, the customs, the language, and other elements of the whole I come into contact with on a daily basis must be taken as they are, yet there exists a reason and a history for all of these things. For example, I must take everyone I see on the streets as they appear to me, but to me almost everyone looks Italian. Except for a few obvious exceptions, I cannot decipher who is a native, a businessman, a tourist, an illegal immigrant, likely poor, likely wealthy, or from other parts of Europe. To Italians, understanding the typology of the local population seems very important when considering day to day life and current issues, for reasons I don't yet understand. What troubles me, and causes me slight paranoia, is that I am told everyone in this country can likely determine just by sight my status as an American student (a label, I learned, that holds certain connotations).

This was pointed out by an Italian police officer that spoke to us yesterday in addition to Fantoni, and was also successful in shedding some light on the conditions we now find ourselves in. When coming here I didn't expect quite what I have experienced so far. I of course expected differences from my life in the U.S., but being here puts a new spin and perspective on so many elements of my existence in this world that goes beyond what I could have imagined. My hope is to discover the true Italy and maybe even the truer me. Time will tell, but one thing is definitely unquestionable: this experience is changing me.

And it has only been four days.

Florence!

So, in order for this to work, as in provide somewhat regular updates, I've realized I need to operate in a more stream-of-consciousness manner with regards to posting, despite how unintelligent I think I sound. Which I gather is the point and heart of blogging anyway, but I've always had trouble with giving up control.

Living and traveling throughout Europe will likely help me change that.

So on to the big news. ITALY. I arrived yesterday around 6pm Florentine time - 12pm u.s. eastern time. I have traveled by plane before, but this time was significantly different being that the destination was someplace so unfamiliar. The oddity lied in how traveling itself was ironically so non-unfamiliar. Even when we landed for our layover in Paris, it didn't seem like we were actually in France. An airport could be anywhere. So emerging from the Florence airport for the first time was a strange experience. It makes me think that airports are teleporters. I step in the doors of the Detroit airport and somehow step out in Florence.

Upon arrival we met with someone from the KSU-Florence staff at the airport and she gave us our keys to our apartments. I do not know yet who this woman and her colleagues were, which is something I've noticed so far about Italians. They don't introduce themselves like we do in the U.S. I don't yet know if this is an accurate impression, but in addition to this woman, I had similar experiences with the man I met at the apartment and the landlord both in separate events. Eventually our landlord, Laura (who does not speak a sentence of English), participated in a round of introductions after about ten minutes of showing myself and my roommates how this and that worked. This is initial observation is something I'll keep in mind for upcoming interactions with the Italians.

However, trying to communicate with Laura was different experience for sure, feeling like an idiot for not being able to understand what a person is saying. Something I'll have to get used to. My usual reaction so far has been to just stare blankly at the speaker. Maybe I'm trying to communicate with my eyes or telepathically instead. But being so frustrated in these situations really gives me a better understanding of similar situations I have encountered in the States where I am the one who speaks the language and someone else does not.

I will update on the rest of my arrival soon. But for now I am meeting Liz, her roommates, and others for dinner at their apartment. Pictures soon. Ciao!