The Aesthetics of change.

i was going thru my google doc archives, and found this piece i had written for a real estate magazine about 3 years ago... cant remember why i didnt post it online earlier, or why i am doing it now... just one of those things where i like to put thigns out again after a long. its like trying to bring back a joke no one thought was funny then, and seeing if they find it funny now....

The
Aesthetics of change.
 
 Karthik Natarajan

Architecture has always been about expressions. Through Pyramids, we reflected our desire to be remembered. The Greek took great pains in forming an architectural aesthetics system so as to get building aesthetics to reflect a sense of grandeur. The buildings they built in function also reflected their ideas of culture, class, politics, religion and leisure. Architecture then was a privileged art and an extension of sculptures skill and talent to make sculptures with spaces enclosed. The cathedrals that came about in the later ages also showed a strong sense of visual character so as to reflect the standing that religion held, or was expected to hold in its days. Architecture then moved on from becoming just a means of external expressions, but through spatial order within the buildings as well, hierarchy of use, the ideas of exclusion and elite were reflected. Not just in western cultures, even in ancient India, we started building larger campuses around temples, with layers of exclusion and order, which would reflect our class distinction system prevalent through ages. Richer the community, larger and grander the scale of buildings.

According to architect Lebbius Woods, the French revolution failed in its intent of drastically changing the society as it did not accompany with a stronger architectural expression. In his words, “the French revolution failed because it installed itself in the buildings of the royalty it overthrew”. With a promise of new social order, a new architectural order must ensue, or the ideas become incomprehensible.

Each time that a successful shift in social systems has occurred, architecture has reflected the change through change in style. When there was change from the Greek social culture to a Christian culture, the style and nature of expression in built form also changed visibly. We moved from an ordered system of design, to a more imposing, decorative and layered system. The church became the center of the society and not the kings. Through renaissance, the age of logic and reason, architecture started taking on a closer to classic order again. During the industrial revolution as well, architecture and planning became more transparent and approachable, as opposed to the previous systems which were more exclusive. The modernist changed the aesthetics according to what they felt best reflected the needs and ideals of a progressive society. The post-modernist then reflected what they felt was the change needed. Each order of building aesthetics, thus has contributed significantly towards its function. Form follows function is only half true now. Function also significantly follows form.

Working towards larger goals of a sustainable future and how architecture can bring about change, it is worth reflecting upon the visual language that these buildings have, and how what we do as design measures are expressed to those who inhabit the space within. May be the sustainability of a new design methodology also requires a considerable change in its aesthetics as well for it to be widely accepted. A reflection of the design intent of the built environment, which lends the building the character it needs to express, not just make pretty pictures, but also bringing about change.

Quoting Philip Johnson, “All architecture is shelter, but all great architecture is the design of space that contains, cuddles, exalts or stimulates the person experiencing it”.

"smashana vairagyam"

this is deep thought. its also rubbish and fragmented. its been written over atleast 2 months of one sentence a week, so if it makes little or no sense, it is most likely that you are not losing your mind... but then again... may be you are....

recently, i saw death. fairly up-close. not in the kinds that motorcyclists describe as the last few seconds before their heads get smashed in the pavement. but like the kinds where an aged relative who was slowly fading just ceased to exist. the post departure motions and the talks that ensue always makes one wonder what would people talk about when i am gone.

my mother taught us a phrase very early on. "smashana vairagyam" which badly/loosely translated means the divine selflessness attained at the cremation grounds. its the end result of the introspection that happens once you see the futility of living in the eyes of a dead close relative. you feel that all they did, is summarized, as good by the close ones. mundane by the ones that aren't so close, and as stern silence by the ones who watch cynically. you suddenly start looking at life from an obituary perspective. what would people say after i died. how would dad react, or mom feel or my aunt who never liked me talk of when she's consoled. what would my cousins who now look at me as an anomaly say. what anecdotes would be brought up? would it be the ones where i rebelled. or the ones where i obeyed. the ones where i was idiotic or the ones where i was brave? and after all these questions it suddenly starts to dawn... you need to live better. you need to do more for people. you need to be a better son, brother, friend, support to those so related. your desire to hoard money suddenly becomes a thing of great guilt and you wish you had done more for society in general.

the thing with SV is that it only lasts as long as the fires burn. the minute you are back home, the minute you interface reality, you start to slide back into your ways, you worry about the insufficiency of funds provided at work. the futility of asking for a raise, the promotion politics. the new car, the unpaid credit card bill that you got your tv with. all come back as if they never left, and all that is left of that moment of absolute renouncement is a shred of determination that you will one day rise above it all. i would like my V to last longer than that. i would like it to translate into everything i do. i wish to live life with complete abandon of someone connected with things but only to experience them. i wish to be rid of all things lineage driven. my investments will be in people and the things they do, not tangible assets that will give me dividends and returns when i turn 70... i want me experientially abused today... i dont want to wait until i am old and over ripe to experience life... i want to travel, move, be uncomfortable and learning everyday. i dont want tomorrow to be like today and like yesterday... a brand new tomorrow in all sense of the word. coming back to my obituary, i want it to simply read... karthik natarajan lived. fully. and i dont want people to remember me for the things i did, i want them to remember me for the fun we had together. at my funeral i want everyone all drunk and disorderly and mildly riotous. i want it attended in clothing of your determination, and i want it celebrated with the gladness of having being transferred to an exotic location for work.


funeral day playlist:
(guns and roses) november rain
(iron maiden) number of the beast
(metallica) turn the page
(pink floyd) the entire discography
(doors) ghost song
(doors) truckers song
(U2) even better than the real thing
(U2) even better than the real thing
(coheed and cambria) welcome home
(nadaka) pick any and other songs that will be determined over the course of the remainder of my life.

who killed the music?

who is to blame for mtv?


I was at the hairdressers today. For me he is more of a hedge trimmer. Cut the excess, leave the head. No fancy stuff. Cut and dry. 8 weeks later repeat. But this postg is not about the hairdresser. Neither is it about the disinterest he has in my hair. Its the easiest thing to cut. One sweep of an electric sheep shearer would do the trick. This post is about what I read, in the papers while waiting for my turn on the chair.

Well, its todays sunday express. Big bold letters tht state 'who killed the music?' the article goes on and on about how reality shows and 'evil' corporations and their hunger for trps killed music channels and transformed them into their songless state. They blamed the internet too. Youtube killed it too they said.
But is tht so? If music television is dead and if the internet and trps killed it, we watched it die. We asked for them to change. We wanted them to show more skin. I remember a ban on reality shows back in the 90s when channel v on a dare got a girl to stip down to bare necessities. How did it creep back on us. Talent shows, the races, the rodies and all that. They all seem to appeal to our dark desires. We slave at our work all day, and go back home where these seem to present a vent. the things we want done to others. we want to watch people cry, break down, plot and do the deeds we frown and fantasize over.

I would like tv to go back to being entertainment none of the mindgames all of the fun. music channels that play music. news that show the news, and not sensationalize avalanches. i think its about time we went back to reality and not reality as we doctor it. TRPs shall take care of themselves, show things that make sense and people will watch them. we saw the BBC mastermind quiz. no one complained. the audience hasn't changed. television just needed an easy way out. youtube will keep doing what it does. videos of cats doing funny things. but music television needs to do what it needs to do...

in the words of billy joel:
sing us a song, you’re the piano man
sing us a song tonight
well, we’re all in the mood for a melody
and you’ve got us feelin’ alright

{i wrote this post, on my SE X1. from the hairdressers chair. (or rather from outside the hairdressers place) where i waited for over an hour to get my hair butchered in less than a minute. all typos in this post shall be attributed to my fat fingers and the small keyboard on the X1 god love 'em. but the really serious mistakes in content, and the mindless banter is all me.}

dead at the funeral.

it happened right there.

after the super heavy post of last week, i thought i should go lighter this time. may be something not involving explosions genocidal idiots and such. but then only time will tell if i can let that happen. (this is like the recap section that so many day time televison series have)

(title track)
(silly adverts of soaps, perfumes, insurance companies and their likes)
(and finally the plot fades in from black)
we were at a funeral this week. a friends father had just passed on. (or as they say 'expired' here) but this incident has nothing to do with the death, or the funeral, or even the friend. its just to tell you that this was the kind of place that almost screams out meaning less discussions to keep the place from going explosively silent.

so there we were, talking about our worldly stories, exchanging stories of holidays, work, and others, the newly weds talking of the recently gone valantines day, and how they had the coziest little dinner, or how work ruined their weekend but they still managed to do something valantiny, and the always evident married ones preaching to us singles as to how awesome married life is and how we should get married the minute we can. (at this point i always imagine that they suddenly turn into these preacher like clothes, the white cassocked, balding bearded men and very nun like clothed women without the bald or the beard, preaching/sermoning us to get god/religion or what ever it is that they are selling). thus wading from meaningless conversations to meaningless conversations we waited for the decent time to leave.

one such topic we walked by was the existence of a digital life, social networking, mafia wars, farmville and such. and people ridiculed the obsession that others had and how when we were kids we had such games we played offline and on LAN. and how even seniors today have gotten on to these trivial pursuits. then like any other conversation between friends fingers were pointed on how that person did things the same way as those described earlier. when it comes to anything remotely on the internet, i am generally the one to be pointed to. not because i am good at anything there, but because of my dependence on all things digital. my phone, ipod, macbook all of these things that i shall shamelessly acknowledge that i cannot do without. what if started to emerge, what if i woke up one day, my laptop wouldnt boot, my phone died, m ipod wont play, my email addresses erased, and everything that i did on the internet just basically vanished. (this blog included, but no one mentioned that because i am sure no one reads it) and so on and like every other time, it would end in if that happened i would kill myself. and they all somehow enjoy that ending. something about, now i know this man is mortal. his life can be in our hands, its not diabolical, its just natural that people dont like to know that there are people whose weakness these people dont know.

(commercial break. bad adverts and such. go grab your popcorn, or change the channels now, cos the tone of this series is about to get preachy)

but then i started wondering, dont we all have such things? for some its their little blinking screens, for some it is their online persona, for some it is their money, they pride, for some it is their loved ones. everyone has a set of things, that enable them to get by without which you would find it difficult to function. if that thing, is your digital persona so be it.

the argument they have against it, is that its not real because i cannot touch it. and because i can go to all those places without leaving my chair, those places dont exist either. i think that is a sad assumption to make. the internet, and therefore all things that happen on it are real. the places, the people the things that these people do in those places . second life is not an extension of you on the internet, it is you online. the mind does things that the body just cannot catch up with. so when you lose something online, when your associations with it are purely that of the mind, you would tend to lose it.

imagine if your house got bombed. would you understand if someone killed themselves over it then? (i know i promised not to talk of bombs and death, but this is just to show you why someone would kill themselves over lost facebook pages)

we are ok with people jumping off buildings over lost jobs. but we are not willing to accept that there are some who would do everything they do, online... and if they lose it they almost lose it all. in this day and age? wake up neandrathal and smell the instant coffee!
(fade to black....)
to be continued...

(meaning less white noise between two badly made series.)

so Mr grasshopper, whats your story?

there was once a grasshopper named bob.

now bob had is ways with the world. he would do what he wanted, when he wanted and how he wanted. all things that he wanted he did and all things he did, everyone wanted. now bob keeps doing things, good things bad things, new things, but all different kinds of thing. hopping away to glory. eating what he finds when he finds, no saving for rainy days no burrowing thru the grounds, no making homes or nests. just living it up each day, grasshopper style.

same time there are these ants. millions of them. running around toe to tail, one after the other , in sync, in style all with the same dreams of one day being the queen bee, sitting and eating, hatching eggs at the heart of the hive. the good life they said. with the big rooms, the sweet honey, the friends, the admirers, the jealous onlookers the evil empires. everything under the sun and behind it to make us happy.

but every once in a while the ant would glance a shady glance at the grasshopper. dancing till his shoes hurt, doing his thing, the grasshopper thing. being himself smiling dancing making merry, doing the joke and poke thing. everyone watches him and so does the ant. part in awe part in envy and part wondering why hes not that guy? why is he doing this in the line on the floor thing? why cant he just leave this all and take up the violin and play the strings to oblivion. he knows he will be happy that way. it may not be all honey and empires, but he would do it for the happiness and stories. the guns and glories. the small town man with the big time dreams, making it in the big city without losing his chee.

but then he marches on. he get back in line, dons the helmet that his predecessors did and soldiers on. hoping, nay knowing one day, he makes it to the top, get the girl, the house, the sweet nectar of gods and all that. and resolving under his breath that one day he shall meet the grasshopper, watch him play the songs do the dance from high up above in his silvery throne. and tell the next generation as to how the grasshopper stayed where he was, while he moved up and moved on! the grasshopper froze each winter, the ant stayed warm, moral of the story work for your happiness nothing is for free. the end.

but no one asked the grasshopper, sir, what is your version of life? are you happy making merry or is there something to look forward to? dont you want to do the queen grasshopper thing? the life of luxury, shiny objects and fresh cut leaves? dont you want to be at that place? be that guy who everyone wants to be, who everyone either envies, or talks about? i think if someone did ask him these question he would reply in the most lost voice of all...

hell yeah. i want to be that guy that you all want to be. but i want to be happy first. and i cant make up my mind what i want to do about either of them? i cant commit to a life on the path, i think its just too slow, and too tedious. i want to do what i want to do and i want to have what everyone wants to have and i want it all now. i cant wait till the end of my life to do what i want, wait for my parents to pass on the mantle to me, wait for my kids to take on the mantle, wait for the birds to leave home the bees to go out hunting before i go out and play the fiddle the violin and become the traveling one piece band i want to become. but what can i do? can i stop being me for an indefinite period of time and then keep who i want to be for later? i dont think i can refrigerate desires?

we are all born at the crossroads. the fiddle in one hand, and a shovel in the other. you can find your time to do both, or bury one with the other. most make their choices early on, some have them made for them. i am still staring at both my hands, trying one, and then trying the next... still at that cross roads staring into what lies ahead. i am still the hopper i was the day i hopped in. and guess what.. i think i shall be happy hopping for a while.... and not cos i am happy doing it, no, and definitely not because i want to do it all my life, hell no. i will be hopping because that is all i know how to do, and if i stand in one place long enough, may be i would miss out on all the other places i want to be in. so there's this and thats that. now can i go please? i see something new i havent done before and i want to get done with it.