An artist will gaze at a flower and admire its vivid color, clear form, disheveled texture and, perhaps, the striking way in which shadows cast against a subtle play of light. A scientist examines an identical specimen and ponders the biochemical properties and interactions that produce such color and form. An engineer analyzes how the hydrostatic pressure within the flower’s cells allows it to grow to critical height and size, providing the necessary resistance to lateral and gravity forces. Regardless of how one understands the world, there is an intuitive, universal beauty to it; an attraction to the “natural, ‘honest’ aesthetic.”
Similarly, most people when looking at a complex, steel canopy design do not appreciate the delicate balance of forces supporting it, or the countless hours spent drawing and detailing each structural element. However, one does not have to be an architect, an engineer, or an artist to look up and be amazed by the elegant beauty and harmony. This is the power of the aesthetic. Masterpieces, even structural and architectural, use this power to captivate and inspire; to create a proud connection for the observer to their community and, even, to humanity as a whole.
Although not every engineering project can or should be a masterpiece, aesthetics should not be an afterthought. Within structural engineering aesthetics must be a driving force. Each structure produces a message that is more than just the elegant solution of concrete and steel mathematically conquering nature. Each structure has the potential for creating an aesthetic that speaks to humanity. As Gustave Eiffel so eloquently stated:
“Can one think that because we are engineers, beauty does not preoccupy us or that we do not try to build beautiful, as well as solid and long-lasting structures? Aren’t the genuine functions of strength always in keeping with unwritten conditions of harmony? Besides there is an attraction, a special charm, in the colossal, to which ordinary theories of art do not apply.”
What we build is an expression of the human condition. Buildings are social artifacts, representative of culture, community, and history. There is a language to architecture, a nonverbal communication between it and its occupants and observers. It has the ability to change the interaction between a city and its citizens.
The aesthetics of any structure send a particular message to the people who view it. Few people hold any conscious awareness of the psychological significance of the structures that surround them or the background they create. While driving down “Main Street, Suburbia, USA,” few attend to the inundation of American commercial culture and its message of “buy me now” that calls out from cement block form and economical rectangular constructions designed for quick remodeling when the fad of today moves over for the trend of tomorrow.
For decades, New York’s trademark skyline spread out with the unrivaled twin towers rising from its midst. Few recognized, prior to their destruction, how personally connected they had become to the tower’s message of strength and invincibility. The horrific mass murders traumatized a country, but the quieter blow came to our national psyche, as we witnessed a hate-filled attack on the American dream, the destruction of the World Trade Centers’ aesthetics.
In 2002, I visited the Pantheon in Rome. I serendipitously walked through the grand doors at solar noon. For a few brief moments, the archway above the entrance was magnificently illuminated by the solar rays shining through the oculus. Everyone underneath the massive dome stopped and stared. I was awestruck and inspired with the realization that an ancient Roman had used the science and technology of his day to calculate the exact orientations of the building and the path of the sun, such that they would perfectly align to create the shared communication that is art, the type of art that results when the collaboration of structural engineering and aesthetics results in the synthesis that is part masterpiece and part genius.
When multidisciplinary teams collaborate and combine their skills profound structures are built; structures that have the power to change people’s lives, to revitalize a rundown neighborhood, create cultural icons, or to invoke emotions. In a divided, disconnected, consuming-obsessed country devoid of any unifying culture or sentiment, how do you bring people together, breed tolerance and unity, and create community? How do you gather and represent our common goals, our principles, and celebrate our diversity?
It seems like such an absurdly optimistic, utopian fantasy. However, there are places in the world where a sea of strangers are brought together, and feel a sense of belonging. I think that there are methods for developing economically efficient, socially conscious, structurally sound, and environmentally respectful buildings and bridges. I also believe that is possible to simultaneously express the structure. I believe there is a beauty to the inner workings of a structure. The chemical-physical interactions of systems and the mechanics possess within themselves an inherent beauty.
Modern structures require the supervision of both architects and engineers. Additionally, many modern architectural aesthetics require complex structural design. I have limited experience in the field, and I have already noticed that this forced marriage of disciplines is not always a happy one. The increasing interreliance on these disciplines begets the need for people who can view and understand the structure, both as an architect and an engineer. Few architects can think as an engineer, and few engineers can think as an architect. The collaborative efforts between architecture and engineering was epitomized by the pragmatic visionary, Fazlur Rahman Kahn, of Skidmore, Owings, & Merrill. His genius drastically improved the efficiency of high-rise construction and made masterpieces, such as the John Hancock Center and Sears Tower possible. As Kahn once said, “The technical man must not be lost in his own technology. He must be able to appreciate life; and life is art, drama, music, and most importantly, people.”
The importance of this fellowship is to foster this idea in the minds of tomorrow—to expose young engineers to the masterpieces, and hope that the power of experiencing the structures first-hand will ignite a spark in the next generation’s Fazlur Khan. Traveling has been the capstone experience to classic architecture education for hundreds of years and it is essential to the spirit of the profession. I am not so arrogant as to believe that I will be a Michelangelo or a Leonardo da Vinci, but my life’s dream is to integrate my passion for art, architecture, and engineering into a fulfilling career, which allows me to work collaboratively to create safe, efficient, beautifully designed structures.
When I tell people that I want to be both a structural engineer and architect, the incredulity of my proposition causes most people’s eyes to widen, their jaws to drop, their noses to squish up, and then they ask in a skeptical tone, “WHY?” I explain that I have been an artist my entire life, but I also enjoy math, science, and engineering. From Lego and Erector Sets, to Popsicle stick bridge competitions; my passion for building has never waned. My multitude of interests and hobbies include drawing, painting, art history, writing, furniture building and design, history, astronomy, mathematics, language, literature, and of course, architecture. Originally, I thought it would be impossible to combine my interests into a profession—I wanted to be an engineer, but I also loved art and architecture. I knew I had to make a decision.
In the spring of 2003, I had the life altering experience of studying abroad in Rome. There I witnessed the integration of art, engineering, and architecture. This professionally formative, profound experience taught me more in four months than the previous four years of college. I came home not only with thousands of memories, a broadened mind and world perspective, but also a decision. I knew I could combine architecture and engineering and I was determined to do so. I declared my major to be in Civil/Structural Engineering with minors in Architecture and Mathematics. After graduation, I plan to continue my education, and attain dual master’s degrees in Architecture and Structural Engineering.
Designing structures, bridges, or buildings, is a complex and multifaceted endeavor, which envelopes a variety of disciplines. To divide it, is to divide the art, to diminish the true elegance that lies within its functional beauty. No matter who you are, it is important to be a citizen of the world—to learn from other cultures and to learn from diversity. This of course, also applies to structural engineers. Having an appreciation of our profession’s heritage seems fundamental. This fellowship provides that essential grounding and further education. It is the perfect opportunity to meld academic and career goals. Traveling, visiting, studying, and experiencing the sites of important structures is an experience guaranteed to provide a young engineer a lifetime of aesthetic inspiration.