2013年3月17日 星期日

幸福建築 (Alain de Botton) The Architecture of Happiness

Alain de Botton 幸福建築及其他

紐約時報:Published: January 24, 2013:訪作家談書:Alain de Botton: By the Book
 http://hcbooks.blogspot.tw/2012/02/consolation-of-philosophy.html


Are there any architects that you think are also particularly good writers? What are your favorite books on architecture?
Le Corbusier is an outstanding writer. His ideas achieved their impact in large measure because he could write so convincingly. His style is utterly clear, brusque, funny and polemical in the best way. His books are beautifully laid out with captions and images. I recommend “Towards a New Architecture.” It’s a deep pity that while Le Corbusier’s style has been much copied by architects, very few have drawn the right lessons from him about literature and prose style. 
 既然Alain de Botton選Le Corbusier 
我們應該知道他在 幸福建築 一書中是如何介紹Le Corbusier的著名的Savoy 公寓的
似可用一組英文字眼來形容之.

 幸福建築 台北:先覺2007/2013.1 第7刷
每一種建築樣式,都是一種對幸福的理解
除了幫我們遮風擋雨,
建築也邀請我們成為獨特的自己。
透過建築,我們看到理想的人生。
我們所欣賞的建築,用各種方式展現我們所重視的人生價值。
建築物以及我們在房屋內陳設的物品,對我們的影響其實超乎想像。
我們希望建築能平撫我們的心緒,或激發我們的活力;
發揮隔離的效果,或塑造和樂的氛圍。
我們也期待建築能保存歷史與記憶,甚至象徵未來。
對建築美感的需求,就是對美好人生的認知。
從生活中最細微的物事,到世界最偉大的建築,
狄波頓在這一場穿越建築哲學與心理學的迷人旅程中,
帶領我們探索建築與人之間密不可分的關係,
以及什麼樣的設計能讓我們獲得幸福的人生。
讀過本書,你將會以全新的眼光看待住家、街道,
以及你自己。
作者簡介
艾倫.狄波頓(Alain de Botton)
  1969年生於瑞士蘇黎世,在瑞士和英國兩地受教育。會說法文、德文及英文。現居於倫敦。
   狄波頓才氣橫溢,文章智趣兼備,使他不僅風靡英倫,外國出版社也爭相出版他的作品,目前已有二十多國語言的譯本。書評人康納立(Cressida Connolly)讚嘆狄波頓是「英國文壇的奇葩」;另一位書評人葛雷茲布魯克(Philip Glazebrook)認為:「這種奇才作家,恐怕連掃帚的傳記都寫得出來,而且這柄掃帚在他筆下絕對是活靈活現的。」
  著有:《哲學的慰藉》(究竟出版)《我談的那場戀愛》《愛上浪漫》《吻了再說》《擁抱似水年華》《旅行的藝術》以及《我愛身分地位》(以上皆由先覺出版)。
  個人網頁:www.alaindebotton.com

詳細資料

  • 叢書系列:人文思潮
  • 規格:平裝 / 320頁 / 25k / 普級 / 單色印刷 / 初版
  • 出版地:台灣

目錄

推薦序
壹、建築的重要性
貳、我們該採取何種建築樣式?
參、會說話的建築
肆、理想的家
伍、建築的美感要素
陸、一片原野所蘊含的未來希望
附錄 

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The Architecture of Happiness
buy from amazon.co.uk >
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One of the great, but often unmentioned, causes of both happiness and misery is the quality of our environment: the kind of walls, chairs, buildings and streets we’re surrounded by.

And yet a concern for architecture and design is too often described as frivolous, even self-indulgent. The Architecture of Happiness starts from the idea that where we are heavily influences who we can be - and argues that it is architecture’s task to stand as an eloquent reminder of our full potential.

Whereas many architects are wary of openly discussing the word beauty, the book has at its centre the large and naïve question: ‘What is a beautiful building?’ It amounts to a tour through the philosophy and psychology of architecture, which aims to change the way we think about our homes, streets and ourselves.
The Architecture of Happiness
- Flying over London with Norman Foster >
- Islamic Architecture >
- Architecture in Japan >
- Introduction >
- Coherence >
Status Anxiety
The Art of Travel
The Consolations of Philosophy
How Proust Can Change Your Life


 http://www.alaindebotton.com/pages/content/index.asp?PageID=56


A concern for architecture has never been free from a degree of suspicion. Doubts have been raised about the subject’s seriousness, its moral worth and its cost. A thought-provoking number of the world’s most intelligent people have disdained any interest in decoration and design, equating contentment with discarnate and invisible matters instead.

The Ancient Greek Stoic philosopher Epictetus is said to have demanded of a heart-broken friend whose house had burnt to the ground, ‘If you really understand what governs the universe, how can you yearn for bits of stone and pretty rock?’ (It is unclear how much longer the friendship lasted.) Legend recounts that after hearing the voice of God, the Christian hermit Alexandra sold her house, shut herself in a tomb and never looked at the outside world again, while her fellow hermit Paul of Scete slept on a blanket on the floor of a windowless mud hut and recited three hundred prayers every day, suffering only when he heard of another holy man who had managed seven hundred and slept in a coffin.

Such austerity has been a historical constant. In the spring of 1137, the Cistercian monk St Bernard of Clairvaux travelled all the way around the Lake of Geneva without noticing it was even there. Likewise, after four years in his monastery, St Bernard could not report whether the dining area had a vaulted ceiling (it does), or how many windows there were in the sanctuary of his church (three). On a visit to the Charterhouse of Dauphiné, St Bernard astonished his hosts by arriving on a magnificent white horse diametrically opposed to the ascetic values he professed, but he explained that he had borrowed the animal from a wealthy uncle and had simply failed to register its appearance on a four-day journey across France.

Nevertheless, such determined efforts to scorn visual experience have always been matched by equally persistent attempts to mould the material world to graceful ends. People have strained their backs carving flowers into their roof beams and their eyesight embroidering animals onto their tablecloths. They have given up weekends to hide unsightly cables behind ledges. They have thought carefully about appropriate kitchen worksurfaces. They have imagined living in unattainably expensive houses pictured in magazines and then felt sad, as one does on passing an attractive stranger in a crowded street.
We seem divided between an urge to override our senses and numb ourselves to our settings and a contradictory impulse to acknowledge the extent to which our identities are indelibly connected to, and will shift along with, our locations. An ugly room can coagulate any loose suspicions as to the incompleteness of life, while a sun-lit one set with honey-coloured limestone tiles can lend support to whatever is most hopeful within us.
Belief in the significance of architecture is premised on the notion that we are, for better and for worse, different people in different places – and on the conviction that it is architecture’s task to render vivid to us who we might ideally be.
 
However, architecture is perplexing in how inconsistent is its capacity to generate the happiness on which its claim to our attention is founded. While an attractive building may on occasion flatter an ascending mood, there will be times when the most congenial of locations will be unable to dislodge our sadness or misanthropy.
We can feel anxious and envious even though the floor we’re standing on has been imported from a remote quarry, and finely sculpted window frames have been painted a soothing grey. Our inner metronome can be unimpressed by the efforts of workmen to create a fountain or nurture a symmetrical line of oak trees. We can fall into a petty argument which ends in threats of divorce in a building by Geoffrey Bawa or L

2013年3月10日 星期日

A History of Future Cities (book review wsj)




The Rise of the Cosmopolis

Four cities that have provided financial and intellectual rocket fuel for the world.


The economic progress of nations has come to be inseparable from the progress of cities. First comes the great population shift, as farms are abandoned for high-rises, jobs in the rice fields for jobs on the production lines. Once you have most of your population in the cities, all kinds of forces can turbo-charge growth: the faster sharing of knowledge as people see one another more frequently and their productivity intensifies; envy and competition, as people look out over air shafts and alleyways and see their neighbors clawing up the economic ladder and determine to outstrip them. It happened in Europe and the United States, and it has been the story of the growth of newer markets in Asia, Latin America and now Africa.

A History of Future Cities

By Daniel Brook
Norton, 457 pages, $27.95
MATTIAS KLUM/National Geographic Stock
New view Downtown Dubai.
For the Davos class, the world long since ceased to be one of nations and became one of cities, seamlessly plumbed together to enable the flow of high-end capital, both financial and human. An expanding class of the rich and their service providers can now whoosh to and from Tokyo, São Paulo, Geneva, London and New York, barely noticing the difference.
It is more useful to think of the leaders of these cities less as local political hacks than as Doges with influence far beyond their city walls. When he only headed his own company, Michael Bloomberg was merely one of the richest businessmen in the world. With the mayoralty of New York filling his sails, he has become much more.
In "A History of Future Cities," Daniel Brook describes the rise of four cities that were designed to thrive far out on the economic and social frontier: St. Petersburg, Mumbai, Shanghai and Dubai. They were intended by their planners to be sources of financial and intellectual rocket fuel, venues for the world's most ambitious organizations and people. And so they proved to be.
St. Petersburg was the heady fantasy of Peter the Great (1672-1725), one of the most engaging characters in Mr. Brook's book. Peter had developed a taste for Western Europe as a youth, frequenting the taverns of Moscow's German Quarter, an orderly, elegant pocket of the city whose residents kept up-to-date with European ideas and technology. It was, Mr. Brook writes, a great contrast to the "xenophobic, theocratic Russia into which Peter was born." So restless and curious was Peter, he set off in his mid-20s for Amsterdam, "not as Peter I, Tsar of All the Russias, but as Peter Mikhailov, a simple Russian carpenter hoping to augment his skills."
He drank in all that the mighty Netherlands had to offer and determined to create a Russian port city as open and innovative as Amsterdam. The great difference between Peter and the conveyor belt of politicians who travel to Silicon Valley these days in the hope of re-creating its magic is the scale of ambition. Peter wanted not just to match the best of Western architecture but to outdo it. He wanted not just communities of scholars but museums and a university to rival any in the world. Catherine the Great, later in the 18th century, inherited his addiction to building and pillaged Europe's art collections to adorn the Winter Palace. "The more you build, the more you want to build," she said. "It's a sickness somewhat akin to being addicted to alcohol."
Of course not all great cities are guided by the hand of despots with cultural aspirations; sometimes it is the invisible hand of commerce that does most the work. Shanghai and early Bombay were developed largely to serve the trading interests of the British. In the mid-19th century, Shanghai was known as the "El Dorado of the East," an extra-territorial city that drew ambitious men from all over the world. There were still racial hierarchies, Mr. Brook tells us, with the whites on top and the Chinese on the bottom, but Shanghai's great appeal was its social fluidity.
Even while the rest of the Chinese empire imploded, Shanghai kept busy getting rich. The Shanghai Chinese who came into contact with the foreigners developed different habits, ideas and ambitions from the rest of their countrymen. And more than a century later, when the Communist leadership decided to seed its own form of Chinese capitalism, Shanghai became its natural greenhouse.
On the Asian Subcontinent, Bombay Island was a wildly diverse port town that attracted opportunists from across Asia—even before the British decided to invest heavily in its development. The Indians in the city were among the most commercially minded and Westernized in the country, and the most friendly to the British.
In return, the British, and the city's mid-19th-century governor, Sir Bartle Frere, decided to create what Mr. Brook calls a "factory for producing Westernized Indians—people who, though they still practiced their non-Christian religions and wore their distinctive fashions, would be English on the inside." In a spirit of cultural uplift that Peter the Great might have admired, Frere hired the best architects in London to build a new Bombay, inspired by English architecture but tailored to the climate of southern India.
All three of these cities—St. Petersburg, Shanghai and Bombay—suffered while their countries pursued centralized economic planning. Robbed of their freedom and the oxygen of unfettered trade, their entrepreneurial spirits went out and with them their reasons for being. It took dramatic changes at the end of the 20th century for them to rediscover their footing, or something approximating it.
St. Petersburg sloughed off its Soviet name, Leningrad, in 1991, and the city and its people were in the van of Russia's rush to privatization. The excesses and mismanagement of that process hit the city hard, and it became a magnet for criminals. But President Vladimir Putin has scrubbed up the city's historic buildings, trying to make it the most European of Russia's cities. Today it is affluent, cultured and elegant but lives under Mr. Putin's peculiar shadow.
Shanghai's skyline has become the image of capitalist China. Even Daniel Craig's James Bond had to go there in "Skyfall," to prove his modernity. But as Mr. Brook notes, Shanghai is a success that the Chinese government struggles to control. "In its de facto deal with the central government, Shanghai's economic openness is contingent upon the authorities keeping the city's cultural and intellectual life under wraps." When Tom Cruise's "Mission Impossible III" was shown in China, scenes were cut that showed laundry hanging from Shanghai buildings. It was inconsistent with the city's image.
Mumbai may generate an outsize share of India's gross domestic product, given that it accounts for just 2% of its population, but according to Mr. Brook it is a deeply dysfunctional place. The rich have turned inward, creating First World colonies for themselves in a city where clean drinking water remains a privilege rather than a right. The rich have their special sphere, air-conditioned and clean, the poor their slums, and there is no sense of community shared between the two.
In the meantime, Dubai has seized its moment. Starting in the 1970s and accelerating through the late 1990s, under the leadership of Sheikh Mohammed, it built extraordinary hotels and office parks long before there were people to fill them. It attracted international businesses and universities, offering them sweet deals to set up branch offices. After 9/11, the investment paid off, as Dubai became the most important safe haven in the Middle East.
The pleasure in Mr. Brook's unusual history is in his descriptions of the creation of these cities. The deeper message, though, is about the tensions such cities create. It takes an autocrat to design something so ambitious as a city of the future. But if successful, such a city will chafe under autocracy. You cannot attract the world's best and brightest and expect them to work brilliantly in silence.
The built environment of London, Bartle Frere once noted, "expresses what the people think, feel or mean, and not what they are told to think, feel or mean." It "grows from within." We may swoon at the engineering and organizational feats of these new cities, with their gleaming airports and sleek monorails. But as Mr. Brook writes: "The true city of the future is not simply the city with the tallest tower or the most stunning skyline but one that is piloted by the diverse, worldly, intelligent people it assembles and forges." For a city truly to succeed, it must allow individuals their freedom as well.
—Mr. Delves Broughton's latest book is
"The Art of the Sale: Learning From the Masters About the Business of Life."
A version of this article appeared March 9, 2013, on page C7 in the U.S. edition of The Wall Street Journal, with the headline: The Rise of the Cosmopolis.