Why are all of our buildings so boring?

• • Sitting on this vintage upholstered couch in the waiting area of the tattoo shop, I reach for my phone to start scrolling to fill the time. Something in me, though, prompts me to put it back down. My eyes begin searching for something to see, and I look around the room. It’s not your typical tattoo shop decor: plants line the windows, the art is dominated by florals and fine-line drawings, and the walls are a calming light gray. My gaze is quickly drawn to the bottom half of the wall across from where I sit, to an intricate pattern carved into the wall. I’m fascinated by the perfect lines, the artful sweeps, and how each panel is perfectly symmetrical. Before you chuckle at my seeming obsession with this wall, I would challenge you with this question: when is the last time you actually looked at your surroundings? Not just the steps in front of you or the chair you’re going to sit in or the clock on the wall. Not just whatever you happen to notice when you occasionally glance up from your phone. No, when did you set your phone down and just sit there, looking around, observing what’s beautiful or odd or interesting or different? That afternoon in the tattoo shop, it dawned on me how long it had been since I’d done that. Have you ever noticed how modern architecture seems to become more and more… boring? You might argue there are some counterexamples, but what I mean by “boring” is this: if you had nothing else to look at, how long would you enjoy looking at it? I always think back to my days on campus at SIU Carbondale, when I would often find myself on an early morning jog through the tree-lined sidewalks of the older part of campus. Part of how I learned to enjoy running was to notice the beauty around me; while the trees and landscaping contributed a great deal, I loved the old architecture at least as much. Buildings like Wheeler Hall, pictured below, were fascinating to look at: there was always something new to notice, whether it was the details around the windows or the precise stonework around the doorframes. As I would make my way further towards the newer part of campus, I would be hit with a stark contrast as Faner Hall (below) came into view. It’s just… concrete. Sure, some of it is in pillars and some in slabs and there’s some windows, but it’s hard to look at it and smile with appreciation. Functional? Yes. (Well, aside from the fact that it’s a freshman’s worst nightmare when it comes to finding your classroom on the first day. There are several floors, three sections with separate staircases so you can’t walk along the length of the building once you’re in side, and, believe it or not, everything looks the same.) But, beautiful? No. • • You may challenge me—Why does it matter if our buildings are beautiful?—and I think that’s a fair question. I’ve actually been reflecting on that very question for several months, since the day I sat in that uncharacteristically beautiful tattoo studio and noticed the intricately-carved wall panels. I have a theory. When we’re not looking at the world around us, what are we usually looking at? A screen, with thousands or even millions of pixels, displaying bright colors and constant movement as we scroll and tap. I could be wrong, but it seems like since the introduction of color TV in the mid-1900s, buildings—and our interiors—got a lot more boring. (You could argue with me about the 80’s, and I’d happily listen to your theory on what happened there.) I’ve begun to wonder if we are subconsciously overwhelmed by the color on our screens, causing us to build plain buildings and to paint our interiors nothing but grey and beige. Then, in an endless feedback loop, we’re not interested in looking at what’s around us, so we stay locked in on our screens. Let’s say you’re bought in to my theory now, but, like most of us, you don’t design buildings for university campuses or build houses. What are you supposed to do, then? Just look around and be bored? If you want my honest answer, I think sometimes, yes. Being bored isn’t going to kill us, and it might even help us calm down, taking a break from the constant stimulation we usually experience. I think there’s something else we can learn, though, and that’s the importance of creating beauty around us in the small ways we can control. Maybe it’s planting flowers in your front yard instead of just shrubs and a bed of rocks. Perhaps its painting a room in your house a real color, even if it’s not the popular trend. Hanging bold wall art, decorating with antique books, or filling your space with plants are all ways to give our eyes something to pay attention to outside of a screen. I’m not sure how the world will be different when we deliberately make our spaces more beautiful and interesting. I’m not sure how it will change your life if you leave your phone in your pocket more often and simply look around instead. But, here’s what I am sure of: I’ve never regretted spending more time paying attention to the real world and less time being sucked into the online one. I have a feeling the same will be true for you. Subscribe now

Journal Prompt of the WeekTry leaving your phone in your pocket while you’re waiting somewhere this week and look around. Write about what you notice, and come back and share it here with the community. Leave a comment