In this book, Bernard Rudofsky steps outside the narrowly defined discipline that has governed our sense of architectural history and discusses the art of building as a universal phenomenon. He introduces the reader to communal architecture--architecture produced not by specialists but by the spontaneous and continuing activity of a whole people with a common heritage, acting within a community experience. A prehistoric theater district for a hundred thousand spectators on the American continent and underground towns and villages (complete with schools, offices, and factories) inhabited by millions of people are among the unexpected phenomena he brings to light. The beauty of "primitive" architecture has often been dismissed as accidental, but today we recognize in it an art form that has resulted from human intelligence applied to uniquely human modes of life. Indeed, Rudofsky sees the philosophy and practical knowledge of the untutored builders as untapped sources of inspiration for industrial man trapped in his chaotic cities.
Bernard Rudofsky (Austrian-American, 1905–1988) was an architect, curator, critic, exhibition designer, and fashion designer whose entire oeuvre was influenced by his lifelong interest in concepts about the body and the use of our senses. He is best known for his controversial exhibitions and accompanying catalogs, including Are Clothes Modern? (Museum of Modern Art [MoMA], 1944), Architecture without Architects (MoMA, 1964), and Now I Lay Me Down to Eat (Cooper-Hewitt Museum, 1980). He was also famous for his mid-20th-century Bernardo sandal designs, which are popular again today.
Bernard Rudofsky’s picture book, Architecture Without Architects, is a delight to page through. It consists mainly of pictures with brief commentary showing what people who have no university training in the design of buildings actually build. The illustrations are intended to illustrate more than just the buildings themselves. They also illustrate the ideas Rudofsky expresses in words in his preface to the collection of pictures.
In the preface, Rudofsky (himself a trained architect) justifiably belittles professional architects, most of whom “are concerned with problems of business and prestige”. He describes the lessons to be learned from “non-pedigreed architecture” – what people build for their own use and enjoyment when left to themselves. First of all he points out that “The untutored builders in space and time… demonstrate an admirable talent for fitting their buildings into the natural surroundings. Instead of trying to ‘conquer’ nature, as we do, they welcome the vagaries of climate and the challenge of topography.” Certainly, a capacity to create our spaces within the living environments that surround us, to actively participate in these environments rather than battling them, is essential to discovering new ways of living beyond civilization.
I found it particularly interesting when I read these lines: “A town that desires to be a work of art must be as finite as a painting, a book, or a piece of music.” I am not interested in creating towns as such, but when I dream of how the world might be decivilized, I imagine space-times in which large groups of people may come together to share knowledge, stories, gifts and skills, a situation in which chance encounters can easily occur. Not only would the space of these temporary “towns” be finite, but so would the time. In fact, they would be more like festivals, carnivals or powwows. But their creativity and beauty would depend precisely on their finitude.
Rudofsky is no friend of Progress. He recognizes that it has not improved the art of building, because it has suppressed the art of living. This process has occurred as a result of the fragmentation that makes specialization the norm in this society. Fragmented life can only be ugly as it attempts to force its unconnected pieces into an artificial order. The capacity for bricolage (the art of putting a whole together from seemingly random bits and pieces – the art of collage applied to fulfilling the needs and desires of everyday life), which will certainly be needed in the process of decivilizing life, can only grow from a wholeness of life that industrial/post-industrial capitalism perpetually undermines.
This wholeness develops when individuals grasp their lives as creative projects that weave together with the projects of others. It provides the basis for a world in which the “general welfare” as an aspect of the welfare of each individual can put an end to the domination of profit and capitalist Progress. Not that Rudofsky is a radical. Rather he seems to be a utopian liberal. He believes (or at least hopes) that things could be done differently within this society to make it more humane. Still his emphasis on building as the ongoing, spontaneous, collective activity of people creating their lives together is itself a challenge to the atomized, specialist world of the state and capitalism, and so opens the door to broader vistas.
The pictures that make up most of the book illustrate the points Rudofsky makes in his introduction and, furthermore, offer amazing evidence of how beautifully people can build without the help of experts. As a whole, the book illustrates the potential for human creativity that makes the dreams of anarchists seem like real possibilities, even the dreams of those who desire a world beyond civilization.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book; it was an elegant expression and presentation of the vague thoughts that had been swirling around in my head concerning contemporary architecture’s dialogue with the past. Architecture Without Architects does not set out to convince the reader that ahistorical anonymous architecture is superior to the average new building, but it properly did so to me by the end of the book. My only complaint is that the book perhaps could have expanded into the relationships between the buildings’ environment and their manner of construction: the most important relationship that informed the finished construction. In the body of the book the text becomes a bit brief, only presenting and not consistently explaining the depicted forms. I appreciated the slights of humor though.
Architecture without architects although clocking in at only 150 pages in length is a fountain of ideas mixed with a wealth of knowledge. I like to leaf through this book every once in a while especially when I need some inspiration - it never ceases to amaze me that regardless of how many times you may have gone through it, there is always a detail, an element or a whole page that will stand out as fresh and inspiring.
The book is organized as a series of vernacular entities each beautifully illustrated by one or more buildings, monuments, settlements or towns. Unfortunately we have learned little from Rudofsky's accumulated information. Even in the age of information overload, the majority of the sites are still vastly unknown. Even worse, a number of the towns and settlements mentioned have been devastatingly changed especially by what Rudofsky terms the transformation of travel and tourism from art to industry. Therefore we have not only been unable to protect and conserve this priceless heritage, we are the proactive actors which are fueling its continued demise. Few cases serve as isolated exceptions to the rule: towns where continued building and subtle transformation keep the practice of the pragmatic vernacular thriving. More words would be worthless in describing this book.
I've been meaning to read this since my professor mentioned something in it my second semester in architecture school. I picked up a used copy a year or so later but just read it today...in an hour. I guess I could have gotten to it earlier.
Anyway, the writing is quite directly and appropriately outdated, as it turns out is my copy, which must have come from someone's basement because I had to hold it away from me while reading. I liked the reviewer who called it bombastic, but they are really just captions.
Really this is an excellent source of images to contemplate the heart and root of what architecture is and what it means to find solutions to the problems of living. Plus it gave me nice little list of places I'd like to go to see some of these amazing structures, but seeing as it's been almost 50 years of development since the author cried out about the destruction of these places, it's likely that most are gone, which makes it pretty special that we've got a book, poorly reproduced pictures or not.
Rudofsky discusses and the goodreads summary also mentions the archeological site of Muyu-uray (commonly latinized as Moray), describing it as a great theatre complex, the largest of which was capable of seating 60,000. This was a natural conclusion for western academics; due to their design the ‘theatres’ have fantastic acoustics, and their appearance is visually similar to Greek amphitheaters these western academics would have been familiar with.
However, further research has since concluded that this site was not a cultural center at all, rather a massive open air scientific facility where the Incans systematically experimented with new breeds of staple crops in varying conditions.
This, ironically, further reinforces one of Rudofskys central points, which is that applying outside methods without taking local context into consideration is a recipe for failure.
Overall, 3 stars for me. While the book has great merits Rudofsky ultimately struggled to state a cohesive thesis around which the book could be organized and understood
Anyway, so my architectural history/theory lecturer decided to give a talk based entirely on this book so I thought 'hey, this must be pretty famous/not fun to read/academically sound/pretentious/good for reference. Got it from the library and it's pretty much picture books for grown up architects. There's an ample amount of indigenous architecture but Rudofsky only barely touches each case. Short read and full of useful research ideas.
"It is a curious comment on our architecture, not to say civilization, that grown-up people have been known to be in raptures over the esthetic adventures afforded by a 'split level' house. Which suggests that we seem never quite able to leave the ground on our modest flights of architectural fancy."
This was great. It's mostly images with just a little commentary, but I think that format does the job of hinting at the vast diversity of built forms outside of traditional notions of the architectural canon. I've read a few books now that imply that the history of architecture is basically Vitruvius, Palladio, and the 20th century. This book makes a really persuasive case that we lose a lot by ignoring forms that were refined and perfected over centuries of adaptation to their local environment, rather than generated on a drafting table by a sole genius. Cities built underground, trellis-shaded streets, mobile houses, intricate urban patterns emerging from repetition and modulation on an architectural theme, all are evolved responses to unique social and environmental conditions. Witnessing this diversity provoked a strong feeling of the small-mindedness of contemporary architecture. I kept thinking of Hamlet: "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
I think Rudofsky also makes a potent argument against the newer-is-better mindset of the modern world: "Not only is the need for confining the growth of a community well understood by the anonymous builders, it is matched by their understanding of the limits of architecture itself. They rarely subordinate the general welfare to the pursuit of profit and progress." We can make buildings that are perfectly insulated from their environments, we can build a Radiant Garden City Beautiful in every culture and climate, but maybe we shouldn't. This book serves as a reminder that humans have been gradually tinkering with and improving their architecture forever, and we lose something of value if we start from scratch and remake the world in our modern, technology-dependent image.
Architecture Without Architects is an architecture book written by Bernard Rudofsky. The book is entirely based on his MoMa exhibition in 1965 with the same name. The exhibition only shows photographs but some texts are included in the book version.
Essentially, the book is about how buildings get constructed by time, nature, and culture. It's about architecture at the time where architects hadn't existed yet. Today we take it for granted that in order to construct a building, we would need an architect. This book is a great attempt to demystify that thought. It's surprising to me that today we're still using the same structures from tens of thousands of years ago. Picasso was right after all: we have learned nothing.
It's a short book, with only 150 pages long and it's filled with diverse photographs that range from primitive huts in Europe to stone silos in Africa to marble monuments in Iraq. Most of the photographs are of low quality, but I think that's alright since the book's originally published in 1987. For someone who isn't an architect, I find this very enjoyable.
3.5 stars. Really interesting mix of vernacular architecture, albeit with black and white pictures. Also interesting as some places appear to be completely changed now, or at least spruced up for the tourists. The text is minimal, and somewhat vague, even to the point of where a place is. Unsurprisingly given the age of the book (1960s), the text also gives off at times a sort of oo0-look-at-this-mystic-and-primitive-building feel, but perhaps this is also more the fault of his sources and the understandings in society at the time, than him personally. For example, the Jantar Mantar is offhandedly referred to as 'abstract architecture' that failed at its task and thus represents 'that rare instance of pure, or nearly pure, architecture of a functionless kind'. The Jantar Matar does work, and is now UNESCO listed, and still even used, although now at a recreational and educational level not scientific as modern technology has superseded it.
Feels like going on an adventure to see amazing buildings made by everyday people. Bernard Rudofsky shows us that you don’t need to be a famous architect to create beautiful and smart designs. Instead, he takes us around the world to explore how communities build homes and structures based on what they need and what they know.
This book makes you think differently about architecture. It’s not just about fancy buildings by professionals—Rudofsky celebrates the creativity and clever ideas of ordinary people who build with their own hands. The book is filled with examples of how simple, traditional methods can lead to incredible, functional spaces.
If you’re curious about how people all over the world create special places without any formal training, Architecture Without Architects is a great read. It’s a wonderful reminder that architecture is for everyone and that even the simplest designs can be truly special.
The book provides a broader understanding of architecture, though the target audience is not clearly defined. It feels like it could be suitable for everyone. However, it lacks a focus on the processes behind architecture. There is an absence of an anthropological perspective—how, by whom, and why were these structures built? The book is disconnected from reality, treating the buildings as mere objects with no interest in the methods or processes involved in the creation of their forms.
There is a link to Rossi’s view, who saw architecture as stable forms with changing functions, emphasizing the idea of urban artifacts. However, this concept is not fully explored or integrated into the discussion.
eye opening (lol). really though was great and a perspective on architecture i hadnt heard before or not since i read...damn i cannot remember the name or author of that book. it was a collection by an architect about 25 years ago. he wrote about the effect of Thomas Jefferson's commissioning of the survey of the US on our perception of the terrain and he also wrote about how aerial photography did likewise. and this in turn effected subsequent architecture. anyhow the book had that effect on me of causing me to think within a new perspective
Most people do NOT look forward to the extinction of pigeons. That is a total lie. Otherwise, this is a neat collection of dangerously unpermitted buildings. If you're the sort of person who drinks fluids, and plays games, you could easily make a game out of taking a sip every time one sees the word "vernacular" - and, as a bonus, Architecture Without Architects is the sort of book that one might like to bring to the toilet.
I always choose to work with experienced architects who understand my vision and can bring it to life. Dial one sonshine customer service helped me connect with reputable architects who provided recommendations throughout the design process. Their expertise and attention to detail guaranteed that every aspect of my project was carefully considered, resulting in a stunning architectural masterpiece.
A fascinating sample of vernacular and non-pedigreed architecture from around the world which helped to broaden the conversation about what architecture is worth studying. More background about the various cultures that produced these designs and more in-depth theorizing about why vernacular architecture is so much more stylistically unified and ecologically adapted than contemporary pedigreed architecture would be nice, but I suppose that’s the role of future works.
Un catálogo de una exposición qué ya tiene más de medio siglo. Que en su día tuvo el enorme mérito de declarar, ante la cultura oficial, el incuestionable valor de la arquitectura vernácula. Hoy sin embargo, su enfoque y contenido resultan una colección de lugares comunes, cuando no planteamientos discutibles. Queda, no obstante, como el icono inaugural de este apasionante campo.
i started reading this a few years ago after finding it while researching for my art history class on The City. i never finished it until i plopped down and read it yesterday. the granaries of spain that take moonlit strolls got me<3
This catalog is a stunning visual masterpiece, filled with B&W photographs that capture the essence of the vernacular architecture. It’s perfect for those who want to flip through from time to time a booklet filled with examples of traditional architecture from all around the globe for finding inspiration.
This is the coolest shit I've ever read honestly. The writing is sharp, witty, and concise, and all the examples are literally just so cool. I loved the history behind the granaries and the lemon garden (plus a lot more I'm probably forgetting because I'm writing this review like a week late). This really makes me think about architecture being a product of collective action not even necessarily of experts, but the community it impacts, which makes its way to the theories on participatory planning today. Really interesting would reread 10 times over 100 percent.
Second reread:
Even better the second time around. Rudofsky’s preface remains one of the sharpest and most concise critique of the Western architecture “canon”, the architect’s subjugation to capitalism, and the incorrect usage of the word “primitive” in reference to highly sophisticated technology.
Vernacular architecture does not go through fashion cycles. It is nearly immutable, indeed, unimprovable, since it serves its purpose to perfection.
I’m glad I read this while I’m taking my introductory class to archaeology. The overarching theme seems to be that there is so many different uses for architecture beyond the intellectual constraints of an architect and the capitalistic motives that limit it to either residential or commercial. This also seems to render beauty optional, whereas in ancient times this was not a separate concept to building. They were inextricably linked. It makes me question the things we accept as truth and necessary: roads, cars, high-rise modernity— they aren’t essential to life. They were not, once, and thus the architecture of their period (and possibly today’s) did not have to revolve around them. It is always good to be reminded that our conceptions of truth are not the only conceptions of truth in the world, and that architecture expands in those directions.
Architecture] is not produced by a few intellectuals or specialists but by the spontaneous and continuing activity of a whole people with a common heritage, acting under a community of experience.
whereas immature reflection tends to judge by usefulness alone, a discriminating mind may ask its share of beauty.
The disappearance of age-old pleasures and privileges is the first unmistakable sign of progress.
Some of my favorites: The amphitheaters of Muyu-uray, Troglodyte architecture (half underground half above), The hollowed-out Baobab tree, The Göreme cones, Italian hill towns (especially those that don’t have stairs inside but have exterior access to diff. floors: Apanomeria), The entire section on arcades (especially the lattice ones), the quasi-sacral granaries (rat shields! walking at night! the fat dancing ones!), the guano towers, the lemon garden on Lake Garda, the airconditioners of Hyderabad Sind, the celestial architecture of Jaipur, the pine tree windbreakers of Western Japan, the fluffy vegetal roof, the sail vaults of Iran, and the cosmic cupola of a Turkish bathhouse.
Some words: Maecenas, prosaic Some phrases: bogus vernacular Some recommendations: The Lemon Gardens by D.H. Lawrence Some quotes: Photographs can only hint at the actual experience of traversing passages through complicated space that plays on all senses: sheafs of light piercing darkness; waves of coolness and warmth; the echo of one’s own footsteps; the odor of sun-baked stones. The sum of these impressions adds up to an esthetic adventure that modest though it is, we are usually denied.
Distilling the raw sunlight into a sort of optical liqueur.
A whirlpool of bright stars, arrested, as it were, in its movement
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Great Catalogues--But Bigger Type Please Architecture without Architects by Bernard Rudofsky is sitting right beside me at the moment, ready for my next foray into the fascinating world of buildings made without formal plans usually by the people who will live or work in them.
Orginally the catlogue for an exhibition mounted in 1964, the book was republished in 1987, and still is worth tracking down. I found it particularly interesting reading after spending some time reflecting on that architect-driven city, Brasília.
The construcitons featured vary from cliff dwellings through ruins of ancient dried brick villages to rowhouses and arcades in modern Spain and Italyl. The overall impression os of organic growth, of spaces developed for uses that the builders understood well. It is a refreshing change from the monumental scale of the Brazilian capital, and of the other grandiose projects for city centres.
My big quarrel with the book is one I have with many catalogues--the size of the print. You must have good light to read the text, It is as if the pictures are so much more important that the publisher skimped on the space alloted to the very intersting explanations and elaborations.
The same problem arises with the most interesting catalogue to the recent exhibition of Peruvian art at the Musée des beaux arts de Montréal. Peru, Kingdoms of the Sun and of the Moon. I have had to put it aside more than once because my eyes couldn't focus one minute more on the undersized text. Would have been worth paying an extra $5 or so to have a book which was easier to read.
Rudofsky's short study is a great introduction to vernacular architecture and its many merits which have been overlooked for centuries by the western world as primitive and ugly. I am interested in finding any landscape traditions which incorporate the many beautiful and useful elements of colloquial architecture.
Notes:
Vernacular or "primitive" architecture is more closely related to landscaping, as it is never abstracted from the specific site and the social and environmental ramifications of its creation. Is the brick row home a form of vernacular architecture? It would seem to be by Rudofsky's definition. Arcades and semi-covered streets were once the domain of architecture but have been abandoned with all care of the exterior usefulness of a building, the civic virtue of private property shared with the public. It is the job of landscape architects to restore these values. Rudofsky shows the ancient vernacular equivalents of technologies we think of as modern comforts - air conditioning, plumbing, refrigeration, dry storage. There is a beauty in utility when it is manifested from nature instead of a purely human context.