Striving for silence

The importance of designing the Acropolis lies not so much in proposing a possible improvement to the archaeological park, in the trivial resolution of a very complex practical problem. Rather, it is an architectural exercise that, like few others, can force us to initiate “ontological” reflections on architecture, on the very nature of making architecture. There are several architects who show concern about the future of architecture, about its approaching a “world of the transient, of mirabilia” to which the architect cannot belong, in which architecture cannot exist by its very nature. “We are surrounded, crowded with useless forms. Excessive design elements, overwhelming ornamental deployments, try to distract with multitudes of special effects, the emptiness of their purposes. And even in that they do not succeed. It is water thrown into wells,” writes Campo Baeza in The Idea Built. Peter Zumthor writes “I believe that today architecture must remember the tasks and possibilities that are specifically its own. Architecture is not a vehicle or a symbol for things foreign to its own being. In a society that celebrates the superfluous, architecture can, in its own sphere, resist, rebel against the gratuitous dissipation of form and meaning and speak its own language. The language of architecture is not, in my eyes, a question about a particular style. Every house is built for a certain purpose, in a certain place and for a certain society.” Thus emerges, from the words of these architects (and those of many others) an underlying problem that is slowly leading to the involution of architecture, to a loss of meaning and power, increasingly unable to confront the glorious models of the past (not only ancient or classical), those moving, moving architectures. The image of an architect who is neither just a sculptor nor even a technician, but rather a composer, historian, dramatist. This is a situation that probably calls for a cultural change, a reevaluation of architecture and its social and cultural importance not only by designers but especially by the public. A contrast between the unprecedented technological and technical development, which makes it possible to build virtually any form the human imagination can give birth to, and the difficulty of generating meaningful architecture. Today's drama lies in the transfer into architecture of a series of meanings linked to the present, to immediacy, to unbridled consumption. But architecture is not this: it is dialogue with time, a testimony to human work, a container of meanings, images, thoughts and culture. The project is thus an excuse, a pretext for discussing extremely complicated universal themes, attempting to design meaningful architecture capable of confronting classical giants. Modern architectures, employing modern materials and technologies but designed to unfold over time. Works, not products. Our goal as architects for this project is to understand the effect of these forces on architecture. It can be a museum, a construction site, it doesn't really matter, it is relative. Monumentality is something enigmatic; it cannot be created intentionally. Neither the best material nor the most advanced technology should go into a work of monumental character for the same reason that it was not necessary to use the best pencil to design the Rotunda in Palladio. The image we have of monumentality from the past cannot live again with the same intensity and meaning. But we dare not discard the lessons these Greek buildings teach us, for they have the common characteristics of grandeur on which the buildings of our future must rely. Including those we have designed today.