In the Eyes of an Architecture Student: It’s Not Always Just Doing What’s Assigned

themichiganarchitect Leave a comment

Hi Everyone!

I’m back again this week to discuss this week’s topic: “It’s Not Always Just Doing What’s Assigned.”

Yes, I know, this week’s title is a bit wonky grammatically, but what I mean is that, in architecture school assignments, we as students are the creators of the proposals and, despite the assignment prompt, we are in ultimate charge of deciding what we should produce to complete the assignments.

To clarify, say, you get a prompt to write a paper in your English paper. This prompt most likely will provide you with specific topics you should cover in the topic of your choice, or specific additional questions to address if certain topics were already chosen for you. All you have to do is answer all these questions in your paper. right? Well, an architecture prompt is essentially the same as an English essay prompt. In architecture, the given prompts simply gives you the dimension parameters and maybe a few specified programs to be placed within your proposed building, and your professor will give you suggested modes of representation (i.e. models, drawings, vignettes, sketches, VR, gifs, etc) to produce in order to “answer” the design question graphically. Ahem, we place emphasis on SUGGESTED because there are many cases where certain modes of representation are more efficient in conveying ideas depending on the project.

It’s funny because I think back to my first ever semester in the school of architecture, and I remembered receiving the prompt and producing all of what was assigned in the prompt. All the while, I’d say that I’m just producing these views because it is what was assigned, or it “looks cool,” Now, four semesters later, I would receive the prompt and am able to comfortably consider what’s being asked of me to produce, but I’m able to decide on what modes of representation I should produce

I realize this skill is especially important because we only have so much time to produce hypothetical projects that, in reality, would take a real design firm months to maybe years to finish producing the real building or even just deem that the building just won’t work and not end up producing it at all (which, not gonna lie, is pretty depressing to have produced all models and drawings and calculations only to end up not conceiving it).

I’ll admit that I do still feel a bit insecure sometimes when I don’t produce some of the things that were suggested or even sometimes what my professor would recommend, but honestly that is a very common thing that happens in architecture school whether you’re an undergraduate or graduate student in design school, and it’s just the process of growing as a designer. This process of growth is ongoing, as I even observe such a thing happen between professionals. Even my professor will ask other professors for their feedback and learn at least one thing new each session! It’s very inspiring knowing that as a designer you’re expected to exhibit a sense of independence in making decisions sensibly, and that it will always be completely alright (recommended even) to ask others for feedback and criticism. In fact, it’s usually considered a bad thing if you’re not getting any sort of criticism because we know that nobody and nothing is perfect (no matter how close they get to perfection), and that projects are never in a “final stage,” so if your project doesn’t inspire thoughts from people then it usually means your work needs something more to even enter the realm of becoming “intellectually stimulating.”

I just wanted to share these experiences and thoughts with you all (especially if you’re a design student) because I think no matter the discipline you’re in, it’s important to establish your independence in making sensible decisions without having to rely so much on whoever you deem as a superior figure to manage your discipline. Your superior can only re-interpret what you tell them, so they will never really understand or be able to imagine your work as you talk about it. They can only come close, so it’s so much more powerful if you are able to produce whatever is necessary to get your own point across, and make your voice heard in the world.

Ciao for now 🙂 Hope you will all finish your semester strong and healthily!!

The Art of Translation

jushutch Leave a comment

As a student of the classical Latin language, I often translate famous Latin prose and poetry that has withstood the test of time. Working with these historical pieces is wonderful in a variety of ways, but I find it particularly fascinating how different translations of the same passage can vary widely in both their structure and tone. I was recently discussing some of my thoughts on what makes a great artistic translation in my Latin class and I thought it would be great to share those thoughts with you, and hopefully peak your curiosity in the art of translation. To demonstrate what makes one translation fall short, and another translation stand out, we’ll look at two translations of the same passage from the Aeneid by Vergil, a famous passage in which the protagonist Aeneas tells of the infamous “Trojan horse” being found on the beach and the priest of Apollo, Laocoon, warning the Trojans of Greek offerings.

Then Laocoön rushes down eagerly from the heights

of the citadel, to confront them all, a large crowd with him, 

and shouts from far off: ‘O unhappy citizens, what madness? 

Do you think the enemy’s sailed away? Or do you think 

any Greek gifts free of treachery? Is that Ulysses’s reputation? 

Either there are Greeks in hiding, concealed by the wood, 

or it’s been built as a machine to use against our walls, 

or spy on our homes, or fall on the city from above, 

or it hides some other trick: Trojans, don’t trust this horse. 

Whatever it is, I’m afraid of Greeks even those bearing gifts.’

– A.S. Kline, Poetry in Translation, The Aeneid (2002)

The first translation of the passage by A.S. Kline is interesting in how literal and linear it is; it follows the structure of the original Latin very closely, not adding implied or gapped vocabulary unless absolutely necessary for understanding. This leads to some sentences feeling unfinished, such as “what madness”, in which Kline decides not to include a main verb, making the sentence unintelligible in English. In contrast to his literal interpretation of the Latin, he does take liberties in his translations of adjectives and verbs. He shifts them around from the original Latin in order to paint a different picture that better fits the image that he wants to convey. It can be argued that these modifications of the original Latin are beneficial to the English reader, but it conflicts with his other literal translation decisions. It leads to this semi-modern translation that is choppy and lacks a consistent tone, while only being marginally easier to understand.

And now Laocoon comes running down

From the citadel at the head of a great thong

And in his burning haste he cries from afar:

‘Are you out of your minds, you poor fools?

Are you so easily convinced that the enemy

Has sailed away? Do you honestly think

That any Greek gift comes without treachery?

What is Ulysses known for? Either this lumber

Is hiding Achaens inside, or it has been built

As an engine of war to attack our walls,

To spy on our homes and come down on the city

From above. Or some other evil lurks inside.

Do not trust the Horse, Trojans! Whatever it is,

I fear the Greeks, even when they bring gifts.’

– Stanley Lombardo, Hackett, Aeneid (2005)

The translation by Stanley Lombardo is different than the previous translation in a few significant ways: Lombardo does not follow the order of the original, he uses numerous adverbs that are not present in the original Latin, and he generally uses more idiomatic and figurative English to create a tone to the passage.  In doing so, he creates a more flowing and intriguing narrative, and overall I think that a large number of Lombardo’s additions are supported by the original context of the Latin, if not by the literal structures and vocabulary. By being more artistic and presenting his own interpretation, Lombardo conveys better in English what Vergil conveys in the original Latin. The result is a much more interesting narrative that is more imaginative and easier to read, even if it strays far from the literal structure of the Latin.

In conclusion, there is something to be said for both consistency and imagination. A quality translation has a specific goal in mind, whether it be to follow the original language strictly, present a more imaginative narrative, or to make the passage easier to read and understand, and then makes consistent decisions to realize that goal. As far as which goal is best, each has its merits and particular nuances that make them great; such is the beauty of translation.

When Feelings Inundate

sarahshu Leave a comment

There is so much to feel.

If I could ever chronicle whatever resides inside of me, sometimes it would be the splashes of red blotched together with a myriad of orange colors dotting everywhere. The yellows of sunflowers are bursting at the seams of my mind, wanting to go and go. Maybe then you’d listen to me and you’d empathize with the oceans I am holding onto inside me. These oceans constantly slip my fingers, evading me like the very liquid things they are. 

Perhaps for the better too, because I can’t keep holding on to these feelings that rage on.

There is a lot to feel.

Most days are dull grey clouds blending together, shading the sun from view. But some days the sudden dopamines join forces to make me feel like endless vibrant blues within me, unexpressed simply because I don’t know how to make sense of it at all. Those are the days I say alhamdulilah (Praise to God in Arabic). I should be grateful everyday.

The snowflakes flutter delicately, now you see it, now you don’t, it melts into the pavements. Truly, what a view. It seems like we sometimes adore things that are temporary because if they’re always around, we’d never stop to enjoy it. In psychology this is explained as hedonic adaptation where we get used to something, be it good or bad, so much that whatever initial feelings we’ve had towards it fade.

There is much to feel, so go and feel them. Usher it into your thoughts, channel them into creations and when the right moment comes, let them escape, riding into the night with dark horses that neigh silently. Wave them goodbye and anticipate the rest that are bound to turn up, again.

Welcome them the next time they invite themselves in. Perhaps you could learn a thing or two from them.

(Image credits: Google Images)