
Tropic. ‘Faded Elegance’ (1)
This house is no longer a house.
The Tropic is unique. Everybody wants to visit the Tropic; it is warm, exotic. Visitors have always taken away something from it: a pink plastic flamingo, a toucan-shaped mug, tons of bananas, petroleum, exotic woods or a pair of Hawaiian sandals (which are now available in all shops around the world). At the time, it was gold, cocoa, men, women and children, exotic fruits and tropical diseases: the Tropic gives off itself. In exchange, culture, fashions, canned food and tropical fruit juice in 5-liter bottles were imported, together with city models, entire buildings and economic models — all canned. This is a consequence of “globalization”, the persistent, picturesque process that we used to call imperialism.
Today, just a few centuries after the beginning of this exchange, the Tropic is no longer the same. From the Pre-Columbian style to the Post-colonial and, finally, to the Latin American style, at the turn of the XX century, the initial stage of this process — still unrelated to the markets — was shaped by the newcomers, who introduced their architectural and urban planning traditions, as well as other less valuable folk elements, as part of an enriching syncretism. The exuberant Tropic adopted and re-composed those traditions with its climate, customs and needs, defining a unique, elegant and sensual style. Vegetation did its part. This is how cities, public buildings and the “house” were outlined.
The Tropical house was characterized by having spacious rooms, a backyard and several bedrooms, but mainly, by the kitchen and the living room: always open for neighbors and friends; they were venues, public-private spaces for social construction. The needs and customs of society shaped the heritage and defined a typical architecture. The exchange continued: goods and resources left the Tropic, and new city models and architectural fashions were imported and imposed, but no longer as part of the traditional ways inherited by the early settlers, but rather as trends designed by a thinking and increasingly trade-minded elite that is alien to local customs and traditions.
Along with a process of development came Modernism; the house and society went through a dramatic transformation. That marked a turning point in many respects. Architecture inevitably modifies the environment in which the house is located, just as the house modifies the lifestyle of its dwellers. Society changed, and so did its needs. The modern family required a different typology, and the Tropical house was abandoned until nearly disappearing, getting extinguished, and with it, a way of life, and a city and society model also faded away. A period of strong architectural development began, and it continues unquestioned to this day, leaving a trail of inconsequential proposals and very small achievements, mainly regarding collective housing. It was a sterile architecture, fraught with topics, but containing very little of the Tropic.
The legitimacy of mixed-race people building houses suited to their needs was replaced with the market model: that is, the idea of “I build with the resources I have at hand”, was replaced with the imperative “Live in the house I sell you”. In essence, culture was replaced with the market model.
Today, housing is one of the biggest issues in the region’s political agenda. We are faced with dilemmas that are proving to be very expensive and complex to solve. Society, with a precarious balance between individual and social values, demands for a new typology, a flexible house and new spaces for reunion, public spaces that help recompose human relations, collectivity. We are at a tipping point in the understanding of the city and “making” architecture.
Planning and approach issues are deepening with the demographic explosion currently undergone by tropical cities. The rural population, driven off their land, is setting off in search of a new habitat, and the cities of the region are no longer open to new settlers as they were in the past.
This wave of immigrants is faced with the reality of the modern city, which is decomposed, obsolete and unable to meet the demands of an increasingly complex and unequal society. New informal urban settlements were gradually consolidated, and these are currently claiming for essential living conditions, not just a house, but a home. New buildings are not enough to provide a response to the housing issue; that is a positive response which benefits just a few for a given period of time. This is a more complex issue, and requires previously planned long-term measures, with auditable results in the short and medium term. Social, urban and architectural coordinated measures should be urgently agreed upon and implemented.
The Tropic requires deeper questions to be asked. This situation brings us face to face with the need of changing our perspective on the city and the house, and starting a more serious and committed analysis that takes into account the actual habitat needs, not the housing aesthetics needs.
We need to stop looking outwards and importing canned products; instead, we have to develop local products by taking advantage of local resources and experience, we have to learn from best practices and pass on the know-how.
As professional players in the field of architecture, we have to think about our role in the design of the city in view of this new socio-economic reality. The city has reached its limit; the house has reached its limit.
I believe the time has come to understand and accept that, as Mitchell Kapor stated, “Architecture is politics”. When we “make” architecture, we “make” city, we “make” society: we modify the environment that hosts the social and economic reality, the needs and demands, etc. If we continue raising the same questions, we will keep on making the same mistakes. Ethics is fundamental to design. We are indirectly responsible for the extinction, the dismantling of the Tropic, for the lack of decent responses to housing problems. We are accountable for not knowing the right questions to ask. We could easily be accused of lack of professional rigor and social commitment.
This house is no longer a house. It only remains the hope of vegetation, the hope that one day the backyard orchard might be our biotope again and the Tropic is back. Otherwise, we are also threatened with extinction.
Carol Burton, Architect
Texto Original en español publicado en Architecture Pills http://www.archipills.com/tropico.html
1 Faded Elegance is the title of the photographic exhibition on Cuba of the artist/photographer Michael Eastman — http://eastmanimages.com/