We don’t notice this until we look at ourselves from outside, especially when the physical and mental distance presents us with a landscape, whether a natural scene in the countryside or an artificial cityscape. So it is we who want buildings to fit into their surroundings, like sensitive objects that integrate with nature, composing simple and effective images that inspire joy and satisfaction.
We want buildings to combine with what is already there, conveying peaceful sentiments and a harmony of forms, so as to find the same peace and harmony in attitudes and human relations. We want buildings to be objects that bear witness to our technical skills and the thinking that guides us, humbly representing our beliefs.
Above all, we want them to be objects that are full of life. A life less building is a dead object, an unacceptable encumbrance on the planet’s surface. A building full of life deserves to exist even if it’s inappropriate. A beautiful but lifeless building is no good to anyone. We want the 5,000-year history of human building endeavours to form the basis for understanding what activates life. This is the value of the large objects that we arrange on the crust of our planet: not merely shapes representing functions, but also objects that generate life.
Distance defines scale and dimensions, with height, depth, thickness and material details. For designers and planners, distance also determines the referential discipline, because designing landscapes that are seen from afar requires an overall view, open-mindedness and above all a multidisciplinary inclination, as a landscape combines all the expertise of the creative disciplines.