Manmade vs Mankind
Why do we build? Why do we make architecture?
I’ve always loved the Palm tree. For me it is a symbol of my childhood. It is synonymous with my time lived in California. These photos, however, were not taken in California, but instead, the desert of Arizona. Showcasing their versatility, their enduring qualities.
Concrete. Concrete for me is a beautiful material. The texture, the weight, the strength of it. It is synonymous with my love for architecture. The way in which the late afternoon light paints its volume. How it feels to glide your hand across a concrete form.
And yet, the juxtaposition of the two: Palm Tree and Concrete, couldn’t help but make me examine the concept of the built environment a little further. More specifically, it made me ask the question: What is manmade? And what is for mankind?
Concrete is not naturally occurring. It does, however, take the combination of naturally occurring elements to compose. It is the result of the earth. Perhaps this is why it is so striking – it is a direct, physical manifestation of our ability as people to make things. It is a tour de force of a material in the world of architecture.
Palm trees, on the other hand, already exist in nature. They are what they are, they do not try to be anything else. They are undeniably beautiful, and strong, like concrete. But they are different in the way they gently sway in the wind. They are effortlessly pleasing to look at. Something to enhance the human experience. A gift for mankind.
So, as I walked under the overpass, I found myself at a mental impasse. Here you have the natural beauty of a palm tree, locked into place by the surrounding concrete forms of the freeway. I was fully engrossed in the noise of trucks passing on the road as the smell of gas and fumes filled the air. Why are these freeways here? They connect us, but they also divide us. The exist to get us places faster, but we drive past the palm tree in the process.
The palm trees took on this personified identity. They seemed like lonely background characters, ever-present and yet nonexistent. The brutalist nature of the surrounding, dare I say, Architecture, completely absorbs the palm trees of their free will, their intended purpose. And with this realization that architecture can be a force for good or for bad, made me question how we perceive it, and how we use it.
IS the architecture (manmade) in service of the surrounding nature (mankind)? Or is the palm tree an afterthought, something to spruce up the design, or make it more “sustainable”? These are the questions we must think about as designers, but more deeply, as people.
The context of this site, city on one side, industrial buildings on the other, scrap metal yards, seemed to foreshadow the impending wreckage. What will become of these highways? Are they transient or permanent? Are they careful, or will they become carnage? Will all roads and highways one day be walking parks, places we can bike, lined by palm trees?
The multifaceted nature of this place, and its ties to my childhood, proved to be a perfect case study in the built environment. Do these photos absolve me of responsibility or heighten my awareness of it? How do we compensate for the carelessness? Can mankind be proud of what is manmade?