The Phantom of the Opera

This is not the case with the monument. It continues to exist and will continue to exist as long as mankind feels the need to commemorate, to evoke, to revalorize. But the monument has lost its monumentality. And then, both architecture with a vocation for nobility and profundity and monumental works of art have no choice but to reinvent themselves.

Architecture and the path of exorcism

Monumentality was defined, in terms of form and substance, as the grandeur by which an authority presented itself to the world. The established patron of monumental architecture was consistently power, political and religious. For six or seven thousand years. But in just a hundred years, things have turned upside down. Today, architectural programs traditionally intended for monumentality - palaces, town halls and places of worship - have serene, introverted attitudes, while "commercial" architecture - business centers, shopping malls, office buildings, Olympic structures - races in size and affirmative attitudes. It all began, of course, in the 19th century. The proper categories of great architecture - grandeur, verticality, the end of perspective, symmetry and lions, centrality and double-headed eagles, marble and gold - began to be mocked in the corners by a few nonconformists. In Paris, for example, instead of making a beautiful edifice for an important event, they supported the erection of an ugly, industrial, monumentally tall metal monstrosity, but from an anonymous program that praised no one and didn't know what it was trying to say.

Things then got worse, when modernism tried to abolish from architecture not only the known hierarchies, but also any kind of connotation with its vocabulary, in favor of a strictly denotative vocabulary that designated only utilitarian functions. It didn't always work: sometimes, by mistake, it also expressed subtle meanings, but only for the initiated.

Only the powers that be (fascist, then communist) didn't catch on or didn't take account of this shift from explicit and univocal symbolism to a more enigmatic, but pluralistic and open semantics. It has commissioned architects to create a new, unambiguous monumentality of the same scale as always, designed to intimidate. And to convey the primitive message of the dictatorship, the architects once again chose classicist language, but purged to the point of severity. At the same time, modernism also continued to demonetize the monumentalist language.

For example, the long-privileged treatment of public buildings - single, isolated, isometrized volumes, to be highlighted as monuments of the city - was transferred to the housing blocks for the masses. They now stood tall and dignified as monuments, but cloned by the dozens and dominating suburbs. After the war, the same banal program, but in the form of apartment blocks, grew in size to gigantic scale.

Because modernism overstepped the mark - literally and figuratively - the postmodern counter-reaction advocated a return to some hierarchies, but by no means to traditional monumentality. On the contrary, postmodernism went further, copiously ironizing monumentality and all its details. But, for the sake of the audience, it did so with tenderness. And vice versa: like the ready-made modernists, they wanted to show that any banal object could be not only art, but even a monument. Take Grandma's pendulum. (AT&T)

Today, not only have the bicephalous eagles, the colonnades of the colossal order and the whole expressive arsenal of monumentality fallen into disuse, but the aforementioned shift has also occurred between the programs and the attitudes of their architecture: in order to stop evil spirits from haunting them, the new seats of power have neutralized their physiognomies, while harmless popular programs are free to impose their presence with a semetic presence. And the great architecture preserved from the past has also lost its ability to hoard values that once seemed permanent. The glory of the sovereign, the glory of divinity, victory in battle and other great things have all faded into the melancholy of historical significance.

Not so the case of the monument. It exists and will continue to exist for as long as mankind feels the need to commemorate, to evoke, to re-valorize. And so all that remains for not only architecture that aspires to nobility and profundity, but also the monumental artwork, is to reinvent themselves.

Architecture and exorcism

In terms of form and substance, monumentality was defined as the grandeur whereby authority presents itself to the world. The patrons of monumental architecture were always political and religious power. This was the case for some six or seven thousand years.

In the space of the last one hundred years, things have been turned upside down, however. Today, the architectural programs that had always been monumental - palaces, city halls, places of worship - have serene and introverted attitudes, while the architecture of commerce - business centers, office blocks, Olympic stadiums - vie with each other in size and assertiveness.

It all began in the nineteenth century, of course. The categories proper to great architecture - grandeur, verticality, symmetry, lions, centrality, bicephalous eagles, marble, gold - began to be derided from the sidelines by a few nonconformists. In Paris, for example, instead of creating a beautiful edifice for an important event, they supported the erection of a strange, ugly, industrial, metal structure of monumental height, but of nondescript program, which praised nobody and did not know what it wanted to say.

Things were exacerbated when modernism tried to abolish not only the familiar hierarchies of architecture, but also any kind of connotation, vocabulary and all, in favor of a strictly denotative vocabulary that designated nothing but utilitarian function. They did not always pull it off, of course: sometimes, by accident, they still expressed subtle meanings, but only for the initiated. Power (fascism and then communism) was still out of touch or did not take into account this shift from explicit and univocal symbolism to a more enigmatic, but pluralist and open, semantics.

Power still demanded of architecture a new, unequivocal monumentality, on the same intimidating scale as ever. And the architects, in order to convey the primitive message of dictatorship, chose yet again a classicist language, albeit one that was purged to the point of austerity.

In parallel, modernism also continued its process of demonetizing the language of monumentality. For example, the always privileged treatment of public buildings - unique, isolated, isometric volumes, in order to make them stand out as urban monuments - was transferred to housing blocks for the masses. These now stood as tall and dignified as monuments, but cloned in their dozens and dominating the suburbs. After the war, the same banal program, but in the form of groups of blocks, grew in size until it reached a gigantic scale.

Because modernism had exceeded its limits - literally and figuratively - the post-modern counter-reaction supported a return to some hierarchies, but by no means traditional monumentality. On the contrary, postmodernism went even further, copiously ironizing monumentality and all its details. But for the sake of the public, it did so tenderly. And vice versa: like the modernists with the ready-made, they wanted to show that any banal object could be not only art, but even a monument. For example grandmother's pendulum clock. (AT&T)

Today, not only have bicephalous eagles, colossal columns and the whole arsenal of monumental expression fallen into disuse, but also they have produced the switcheroo between programs and the attitudes of their architecture that I have been talking about: so that the evil spirits will no longer haunt the new premises of power, they have made their physiognomies take on a neutral cast, while the innocuous popular programs have free rein to impose their presence grandiosely. And the great architecture preserved from the past has also lost its ability to store values that once seemed permanent. The glory of the sovereign and of God, victory in battle, and all the other lofty things have all faded away into the melancholy of historical signifiers.