I remember 5th grade when the teacher was showing us what she promised to be the most amazing thing in the world. It was almost a magic trick the way this particular paper machine functioned. It didn't have an inside or an outside. It was a milestone in mathematics, physics, and perhaps even philosophy. And yet, nothing could disappoint more than a flimsy piece of paper twisted then taped back together again. Lame.
It was not revolutionary in my world. I even think I totally understand the mystery, and yet it was truly lackluster, pedestrian, banal.
As a fifth grader gawks at a strip of paper, so do civilians at Rem Coolhouse. What does it mean? What does it really do? Outside of a few esoteric circles, nothing. Insert here the economist, George Stigler: ordinary people don't have the time or energy necessary to appreciate/understand the world around them. When it comes down to it, do these things really matter? Of course they do! (so says the architect) And thus, it becomes our duty not only to produce things that matter, we now have to supply the relevance as a sort of operator's manual. A building that blends inside and outside is good for the soul because _____.
We could legalize stimulating drugs, that would make these ideas much more appealing to most people, sure. However, I think we are just going to have to please ourselves. We will go to Pratt, push the envelopes, erect some crazy designs then submit them to an unappreciative world. I don't really see any other way to do it. And yet, isn't that the best way?
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