October 29: Field Trip

During this month in 1968 Denise Scott Brown and Robert Venturi took their studio class to Las Vegas.

They undertook their field trip two years after Venturi published his “gentle manifesto,” Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture, which skewered the assumed perfections and heroism of “Orthodox Modernism.”  Venturi called for an architecture that was not falsely pristine and pure, but one that related to the diversity of meaning in contemporary life, not to mention the conflicts of serving the Vitruvian triad of firmitas, utilitas and venustas that had challenged architects forever.

Following several years of Scott Brown’s individual research on the planning of Las Vegas when she was located on the west coast, their joint studies in Las Vegas resulted in another publication.  In 1972, Venturi, Scott Brown and their associate Steven Izenour published a folio, A Significance for A&P Parking Lots, or Learning from Las Vegas, most commonly known in its revised form, Learning from Las Vegas: the Forgotten Symbolism of Architectural Form, published in 1977.  Their arguments against cold, silent modernism and its false heroism, in favor of more accessible, meaningful architecture, opened up the discourse about architectural values at a time when Modernism was still prominent (as seen here) but losing its stranglehold on the profession.  One of the book’s most forceful ideas, enduring ideas and provocative suggestions, was its approach to understanding all buildings as one of two symbolic categories, either as “ducks,” in which the whole building contributed to its own iconography (the case with big formalist Machine Age Nouveau modernism), or “decorated sheds,” in which a box of a building was preceded by architecturally scaled signage announcing its meaning through overt, although sometimes double-coded, symbols.  The latter was preferable; studied in Vegas and manifest in the firm’s early work (and not-so-early work, too).

We’re not always crazy about the way that revolutionaries go about their business, but we are grateful for their success in toppling the tyrant.

Image: Denise Scott Brown in Las Vegas (from this source)

June 18: Duck!

On this day in 1931 the Big Duck opened.

This funky kiosk was the brainchild of duck farmer Martin Maurer, who thought a giant reinforced concrete anatidaeopomorphic building was just the thing to advertise and sell his ducks and duck eggs, which was at the time a big thing for roadside retail.  She might have been just one more novelty act along with huge donuts and coffee pots, the famous Brown Derby and the infamous Longaberger headquarters, if it wasn’t for Robert Venturi.  With his super-important book, Learning from Las Vegas (1977), Venturi made another important assault on the tenets of what he termed Orthodox Modernism.  One of its more memorable and important passages differentiates between buildings that are “ducks” (buildings that are fundamentally symbols in their entirety) and those that are “decorated sheds” (boxes with signs on the front).  The former were castigated–either as the silly Big Duck (albeit successful and honest in its capacity as a roadside attraction) or the boring/ugly Crawford Manor by Paul Rudolph (a sad failure, a fake hero).  The latter were celebrated–be they Santa Maria Novella or a Las Vegas Casino (or Venturi’s own Guild House).  Now, that is provocative talk on many grounds, but it helps us forgive the somewhat uneven work that has come out of Venturi’s office lo these many decades because he has been a helpful provocateur.  And he is the proof of the pudding, that the joker at court may be just a fool, or may be the wisest person in the room.

Image: it’s the duck (from this source)

Bonus! Check out her rarely-seen backside

October 29: learning from Las Vegas

During this month in 1968 Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown took their studio class to Las Vegas.

They undertook their road trip two years after Venturi published his “gentle manifesto, Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture, which skewered the assumed perfections and heroism of “Orthodox Modernism.”  Venturi called for an architecture that was not falsely pristine and pure, but one that related to the diversity of meaning in contemporary life, not to mention the conflicts of serving the Vitruvian triad of firmitas, utilitas and venustas that had challenged architects forever.

Their studies in Las Vegas resulted in another publication.  In 1972, Venturi, Scott Brown and their associate Steven Izenour published a folio, A Significance for A&P Parking Lots, or Learning from Las Vegas, most commonly known in its revised form, Learning from Las Vegas: the Forgotten Symbolism of Architectural Form, published in 1977.  Their arguments against cold, silent modernism and its false heroism, in favor of more accessible, meaningful architecture, opened up the discourse about architectural values at a time when Modernism was still prominent (as seen here) but losing its stranglehold on the profession.  One of the book’s most forceful ideas, enduring ideas and provocative suggestions, was its approach to understanding all buildings as one of two symbolic categories, either as “ducks,” in which the whole building contributed to its own iconography (the case with big formalist Machine Age Nouveau modernism), or “decorated sheds,” in which a box of a building was preceded by architecturally scaled signage announcing its meaning through overt, although sometimes double-coded, symbols.  The latter was preferable; studied in Vegas and manifest in the firm’s early work (and not-so-early work, too).

We’re not always crazy about the way that revolutionaries go about their business, but we are grateful for their success in toppling the tyrant.

Image: Denise Scott Brown in Las Vegas (from this source)

June 18: duck!

On this day in 1931 the Big Duck opened.

This funky kiosk was the brainchild of duck farmer Martin Maurer, who thought a giant reinforced concrete anatidaeopomorphic building was just the thing to advertise and sell his ducks and duck eggs, because that used to be a big thing for roadside retail.  Whe might have been just one more novelty act along with huge donuts and coffee pots, the famous Brown Derby and the infamous Longaberger headquarters, if it wasn’t for Robert Venturi.  With his super-important book, Learning from Las Vegas (1977) Venturi made another important assault on the tenets of what he termed Orthodox Modernism.  One of its more memorable and important passages differentiates between buildings that are “ducks” (buildings that are fundamentally symbols in their entirety) and those that are “decorated sheds” (boxes with signs on the front).  The former were castigated–either as the silly Big Duck (albeit successful and honest in its capacity as a roadside attraction) or the boring/ugly Crawford Manor by Paul Rudolph (a sad failure, a fake hero).  The latter were celebrated–be they Santa Maria Novella or a Las Vegas Casino (or Venturi’s own Guild House).  Now, that is provocative talk on many grounds, but it helps us forgive the somewhat uneven work that has come out of Venturi’s office lo these many decades because he has been a helpful provocateur.  And he is the proof of the pudding, that the joker at court may be just a fool, or may be the wisest person in the room.

Image: it’s the duck (from this source)

Bonus! Check out her rarely-seen backside