1. AT&T Building, New York (1978–80); architect: Philip Johnson (born 1906). Philip Johnson had been involved in a hugely successful exhibition ‘The International Style’, that introduced modernist architecture to the USA in 1932. He worked with Mies van der Rohe on the authoritatively modern Seagram Building (Figure 18) and his writings had on the whole been persuasive in the modernist cause, though they made some mischief along the way. His design for the AT&T building, making use of classical motifs such as the broken pediment against the skyline, was seen as profoundly shocking at the time. It caused a furore and the architect was pictured on the cover of
In the chapters that follow, the text is organized in a fairly conversational way, moving between views of different aspects of the buildings that are used as examples. I have tried wherever possible to refer points back to the buildings that are illustrated, which may give an exaggerated impression of a building’s importance, when it is used to make different points at different places in the text. The buildings are not discussed in the order that they were built, but they are all located on the timeline at the end of the book (p. 117). It will be noted that the buildings are not spread evenly across the time that is spanned, but are disproportionately from times close to our own.
In Chapter 2, the classical tradition is pieced together from a series of buildings beginning in the relatively recent past, and moving backwards in time, which may seem like a perverse way to order the material. In fact it reflects the way in which we piece together our traditions. We start with a familiar building (in this case Monticello, which is one of the most visited buildings in the world) and look for its precursors. Then we look for the precursors’ precursors, and so on. Then what usually happens is that the sequence is reversed, to move forward in time, and that produces a narrative drive that brings with it an idea of forward movement, and it seems that the point of the whole tradition was to bring about the flowering of the final most developed works. This effect of historical narratives can be used in order to persuade us that one type of architecture is right for the future, or for the present. If we approach the present from a particular direction then it is obvious where the next step will take us. If we approach it from a different direction, then the next step will be going somewhere else. I have tried to avoid this kind of tendency in the text, but if I am asked what the architecture of the future will be like, then my answer is that it is likely to be more varied than ever before.