The First Home
or, Why we Decorate
All really inhabited space bears the essence of the notion of home.
What you will learn
- The First Home
- The Primitive Hut
- Why We Decorate
The previous issue covered the idea of shelter. Safety is essential. You simply cannot flourish without refuge from the dangers of the natural elements and predators.
Architecture is the act of changing our environment. Shelter is where architecture begins, but it is not where it ends. Let’s investigate what turns a hut into a home!
The First Home
A personal fiction of architecture’s beginning.
Grunk returns empty-handed; the day-long hunt was not fruitful. His mind is filled with woulda’s and shoulda’s — remembering critical moments when the mammoth escaped his squad. “Grunk should not stomp” he thinks. “Stomps no quiet. Mammoth notices stomps.” Failure ain’t easy.
As Grunk ruminates, he notices a bunch of bright flowers nearby. A few branches from a flowering tree have fallen. Grunk scoops them into his hands, returns to the entrance of his rustic abode, and carefully tucks the special branch into the limb that spans his doorway.
“GUH!”, Grunk erupts. ( ‘Guh!’ is caveman for Eureka! )
Grunk leaps with delight looking back at his by his creation — how splendid!
He eagerly seeks out the rest of his hunting crew, bringing them to his wonderfully adorned hut. The others notice his decoration. They too jump excitedly.
More and more of the tribe turns up to ogle at Grunk’s lovely entryway. It’s a scene just like the apes celebrating the Monolith in Kubrick’s, ‘ 2001: A Space Odyssey.’
As night falls they prepare a great fire by Grunk’s fabulous door. The entire tribe eats, drinks, and dances around his uniquely decorated hut. The next day, everyone wants to know, where on Earth did Grunk get such a lovely branch?
Grunk teases, “I got it at Ughkea.”
Then gives in, “It just fell on the ground. I picked it up, and placed it there myself.”
The next day Grunk gathers more select branches, twigs, and stems. He decorates his closest friends’ doorways. Showing them his methods along the way.
The remaining huts are decorated with personal touches — tulip petals adorn one hut, fern fronds on another — no two shelters look identical.
In a few days Grunk’s settlement transforms: what was a collection of bleak huts, is now a village of beautiful homes. Their dwellings are now elevated into the first true pieces of architecture — the first home.
The Primitive Hut
The man is willing to make himself an abode which covers but not buries him.
— Marc-Antoine Laugier
A suave, debonair Frenchman by the name of Marc-Antoine Laugier wrote an essay titled, “Essai sur l’architecture” (Essay on Architecture). [ c. 1753 ]
It is commonly referred as “ The Primitive Hut “. This phrase primitive hut is used to refer to the mythical genesis of architecture — where it all began!
Laugier explains that each primary architectural element refers to a piece of nature — particularly the tree.
“Pieces of wood raised perpendicularly, give us the idea of columns. The horizontal pieces that are laid upon them, afford us the idea of entablatures.”
The Post ( or Column ) is the Trunk.
The Beam ( or Entablature ) is the Branch.
The Roof ( or Pediment ) is the Foliage.
A building’s column appears similar to a tree trunk. A stable, vertical cylinder arising from the ground. The columns primary role is to carry the structural load from above to the ground. Many columns are detailed with “flutes” or vertical ridges that simulate bark.
Bridging horizontally from the column is the beam — like a branch spreading out from the sturdy trunk. The roof comes from the layering of angled branches with their foliage. Like a tree’s canopy, a building’s roof shades you from sun and rain.
Laugier concludes, “The little rustic cabin that I have just described, is the model upon which all the magnificences of architecture have been imagined.”
His account ties an abstract concept to a material construction. Nature gives guidance on functionality, balance, and beauty. Humankind adapted the structure of trees into a way of building beautiful homes.
Why We Decorate
The building’s identity resided in the ornament.
— Louis Sullivan
If you ask Mr. Merriam-Webster, “What is architecture?”
He will reply, “The art or science of building.”
Art or science? What do you mean “or”? It’s either one. Or the other…right?
Well, no. Architecture is both the technical aspects of construction and the pursuit of making places beautiful and personal. But why should architecture be beautiful? Why do we decorate?
Think back to Grunk’s addition of a flowering branch to his hut. Was this a practical decision? Did he add directly to the utility of his space?
No, not exactly.
That flower does not help keep water out. It doesn’t keep predators from entering. And it certainly doesn’t provide electricity or running water.
But… it does make his hut into his home. His act of decoration makes his house distinct from others. It speaks to his sensibilities, his preferences, his values. It gives his home an identity.
Practically Impractical
“Design is where science and art break even.”
— Mieke Gerritzen
Architecture is an applied art — both practical and impractical. You could say a building is just a collection of materials combined in a particular form. But that is not all it is. Architecture is the most durable and physical representation of culture. This is self-evident, just think of: the pyramids, the coliseum, Eiffel’s tower… you get it.
While the ornament itself isn’t “pRaCTicaL”, its placement is. In fact, ornament is placed at the seams of building’s openings — at the header above a door, or on the lintel of a window. This place is incredibly practical. Those spots are the areas water gets into a building. Once materials were slapped onto these critical locations, the pieces were shaped into mouldings — adding beauty to utility. Mouldings are a basic unit of architectural language, like words are a basic part of sentences. ( more on this in another issue of GIMME SHELTER )
Home, sweet home.
The mother art is Architecture. Without an Architecture of our own we have no soul of our own civilization.
We decorate to celebrate, to personalize, to tell our story. To remind ourselves: of our memories, our families, our friends. Plus, it looks cool.
We decorate our buildings to display our values. We embed symbolic meaning in our homes. The earliest known works of art are cave paintings depicting hunting expeditions. The zig-zag patterns on a tepee represent lightning. The stories of Christianity are carved into the stone walls of Cathedrals worldwide. The examples are countless and ever-present.
Think of your home. Think of how it looks. How it smells. How it feels.
How you dress it up to be spooky for Halloween.
How cheery you make it for Christmas — the smell of the tree, the glow of lights, the cat leaping with unfettered aggression at the garland.
All of these things are what makes a house your home.
For some reason, Le Corbusier, a prominent, influential Swiss-French architect, did not think this way. He is famous for saying,
“A house is a machine for living in.”
…but he is wrong. A house is not a machine.
A home is a place of comfort. Built with love.
It is not pristine, like an unopened collectible. It is lived-in.
Ornament shows the relationship between our ideas (abstract) and the built environment (reality). We understand pen and paper as tools of communication, but how often do we look at our buildings that way? Buildings are much more durable and long-lasting than paper. We embed the most significant cultural ideas in our buildings.
We don’t question a peacock’s brilliantly colorful train of tail feathers. We don’t go to lengths to understand why a sunset is gorgeous. What compels us to wonder “Why We Decorate”?
Decorating is no stranger than singing carols together at Christmastime. Or laughing at your Dad’s bad jokes. Or dancing at a loved-one’s wedding. The “Why” of it simply is not important.
Perhaps “Why?” is the wrong inquiry. Maybe “Why Not?” is the right question.
For what would Christmas be without ornaments?
What you learned
- The First Home — How it came to be.
- The Primitive Hut — Why Nature & Architecture are inseparable.
- Why We Decorate —To give a building an identity.
What’s Next?!
Next month’s post is all about Vernacular Architecture, the building traditions that are based on what is local — the climate, the availability of construction materials
Draw Something!
Saying something like, “I can’t draw.” is lame.
Shift that fixed mindset to: “I don’t practice drawing. Like any other skill, if I draw more, I will improve.”
Today, we are drawing: A GOLDEN RECTANGLE
Refurbish Your Feed!
You become what you give your attention to. If you do not choose what thoughts and images you expose yourself to, someone else will.
Remember, you absorb anything within your field of attention. This is where we intentionally remove #FearPorn from our timelines — replacing negativity with positivity.
I implore you to add BEAUTY to your social media feeds.
In this edition, I encourage you to add @Solarchitects to your feed.
He is a practicing architect. His work harnesses the benefits of the natural elements — sun, wind, seasons, rain, etc. This is in opposition to most contemporary architecture which guards against nature by spending unnecessary amounts of energy on heating and cooling. He utilizes lost lessons from our past in his designs:
ie. -> place bedrooms on the eastern side of a building, to bring light in when sun rises.
Did you like this post? Share it to a friend of yours! If your mind is churning, drop a comment below.
I want to hear from you.
This is more than a newsletter, it is a dialogue. Tell your friends about GIMME SHELTER. Ask me questions about architecture. Send me feedback!
You can find me in many corners of the internet. But, please seek me out on the magnificent, digital plaza that we call, Twitter: @buckthundaz
Be curious,
Michael
Originally published at https://gimmeshelter.substack.com on November 4, 2021.
