What interests me about buildings such as Brunelleschi's dome in Florence is the amount of effort people were prepared to put into them. Their builders had practical problems to solve, but they also wanted to make something extraordinary. Religious conviction gave them a reason to attempt it, and craftsmanship gave that conviction a physical form. Centuries later, the care taken over those buildings is still apparent. I struggle to imagine much of what we build today inspiring the same attachment.
Brunelleschi's Dome
Le Corbusier's machine for living in [1] offers a useful starting point for understanding the change. A building's function can be specified and its construction cost calculated. The value of an intricate façade to someone walking past it in a hundred years is harder to enter into an .xlsx file. Standard components and repeated layouts make the budget easier to control, while ornament becomes an expense someone has to defend. Taken far enough, the result is a street of interchangeable buildings, each suspiciously close to an enlarged IKEA LACK. I prefer buildings that reward a closer look: brickwork with a pattern, carved stone, a curve that does something interesting with the light [2].
Philip Johnson’s Glass House
Robotics could change the cost of making those details. If a machine can reliably carve stone, mill timber or lay intricate brickwork, some of the skilled labour that makes ornament expensive could become cheaper. The saving would depend on the equipment, setup, energy use and amount of supervision required. Materials and installation would still matter. But it is a possibility worth testing: how much of the price of an elaborate façade comes from the hours needed to make it, and how much of that work could a machine do?
St Paul's, London
Even a substantial saving would leave the question of what we value. We devote considerable ingenuity to shaving fractions of a second off financial transactions, yet seem increasingly willing to accept poor surroundings as inevitable. A building may remain part of daily life for generations. Its construction budget captures very little of that experience. Cheaper production could put more elaborate work within reach of ordinary homes, but someone would still have to commission it and care enough to get it right.
Ornamentation no more
I would like to see that possibility taken seriously. Give architects and craftspeople access to machines that can carry out demanding, repetitive work, and test what they can make together. Start with a carved doorway or a section of brickwork. Compare the cost with a standard component, including finishing and installation, and see whether the difference is still prohibitive. There is no reason to assume the result must copy a cathedral. The opportunity is to attempt details that are currently dismissed before anyone has properly considered them.
A lower construction cost would be welcome. I would find it disappointing if all we did with it was produce the same buildings more cheaply. If elaborate work becomes affordable, I hope we spend some of the saving on places people will want to keep.
Footnotes
Le Corbusier, Vers une architecture (1923), which sets out his idea of the house as a machine for living in. The Glass House pictured below is by Philip Johnson.
A beautiful setting can make a fairly ordinary building look convincing. I am more interested in what the building contributes to it.