Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.
This passage from Italo Calvino’s 1972 postmodernist novel, Invisible Cities, highlights the complex and often hidden nature of urban landscapes. They reflect not only a microcosmic universe but also the depths of our own human psyche.
The notion that cities can embody qualities typically associated with living beings underscores the importance of unique and thoughtfully designed structures and architectures. It suggests that cities should not and could not be reduced to generic and homogeneous boxes next to each other.
But the issue at hand is: should a space prioritize simplicity, clarity, and necessity, and strive to create a sense of order amidst the cosmological chaos to liberate us from the burden, anxiety, and fear of complexity? Or should it embrace complexity, intricacy, and ornamentation and celebrate the incomprehensible nature of the world we live in?
In the realm of design, our debate of minimalism vs maximalism is often discussed from the reference to good or bad aesthetics, the need for efficiency, and the purpose, function, and economy of design, and rarely from a metaphysical perspective — what does it mean to design? In the grand scheme of things how design fits into the universe and its functioning?
Perhaps that is why minimalism would always win, as it appeals more strongly to our innate desire for easy satisfaction and less to our itch for the deeper contemplation that extends beyond the mere physicality of things.
However, the notion that simplicity and minimalism now hold greater value reinforces Eurocentric standards of aesthetics that associate excess with ignorance and spiritual degradation, and that decluttering physical space can lead to a decluttering of the soul.
Such a belief has contributed to perpetuating limited ideas about what constitutes a good design.
Notwithstanding, this critique does not aim to completely dismiss minimalism but rather focuses on its overabundance and misinterpretation, and misconstrued application.
The fundamental principle of minimalism is centered around eliminating excess and observing an object through unadulterated sensory perception, free from any preconceived notions or prejudices.
As, David Raskin, a professor of contemporary art history at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, explains,
Minimalism can return you to this basic state where you’re perceiving purely, less is more because you strip away the familiar, opening an opportunity to see the world without preconceptions.”
But it is ironic that those who promote minimalism nowadays display a dictatorial attitude, which goes against the original empowering and optimistic idea of experiencing the world.
The narrative of minimalist arrivistes that ‘less is more’ can bring joy, freedom, good mental health, a better environment, and a focused mindset not only promotes a misleading form of minimalism but also represents an exclusionary and elitist philosophy that disregards the social and material realities of others.
Time has always proved that ideas, beliefs, and practices perceived as timeless in terms of aesthetics and morally superior often reveal themselves to be deceptive. Therefore, the trend should now begin to reverse itself.
Now the question: where is the answer?
If the unadorned Eurocentric approach to minimalist design has led us to a dull world of plain shapes and transparent walls, perhaps we should redirect our focus to Eastern design principles that prioritize bold patterns, embellishment, extravagance, grandeur, curves, and intricate detail to create awe-inspiring spaces.
The reason why maximalism, prevalent in traditional Eastern design, is needed is that it responds to the fragmented and dislocated realities of our contemporary lives. A space that is only uniform and well-proportioned devoid of any embellishment cannot reflect the state of our existence that is constantly in flux and uncertainty.
When we design a space, it often takes on a life of its own over time. The original intended functions may expand and change, taking on new meanings and uses. Design visions are not only realized, they often exceed expectations as well.
Gaudi originally envisioned Park Guell as a utopian community for the wealthy citizen of Barcelona, but it has since been transformed into a public park, proving good architectural design is multifaceted and goes beyond the original intent.
Similarly, The Dome of the Rock, originally designed as a shrine for the Islamic faith, with a unique octagonal shape and central dome adorned with intricate mosaics and inscriptions, that exude both function and beauty to this day.
But throughout history, modifications were made to meet new purposes — during the Crusades it was converted into a Christian church complete with a choir and bell tower. In the 16th century, the Ottoman Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent added a new pulpit/minbar to the building and commissioned new tiles and inscriptions, further enhancing the building’s importance and grandeur.
Hence, it is evident that spaces undergo a transformation, where the original designs may not have accounted for all the possible paths and functions, but eventually, they develop their own unique character and identity over time.
This is why Sullivan’s famous saying- form follows function — falls short as future generations will inevitably adapt space and design to meet new functions, meanings, and purposes.
In today’s world, where many buildings are designed to be utilitarian, there is a growing need for an imaginative and expressive architecture that can elevate the human spirit.
The Nasrid Palace in Alhambra is a magnificent display of such architecture that goes beyond just fulfilling its function. Unlike the simplistic aesthetic that dominates much of the world’s architecture, the grandeur of this palace offers a truly immersive and awe-inspiring experience that stimulates the senses and evokes wonder.
The palace’s design features many examples of the use of geometric patterns, such as the intricate interlocking star-shaped patterns on the ceilings and the hexagonal tile work on the floors. These complex patterns are often used in Islamic architecture to symbolize the veiled unity and harmony of the universe- behind the apparently chaotic universe, there is a complex structure within.
Moreover, these intricate details and elaborate patterns make for a visually stunning environment that creates a strong sense of place and identity.
We today can draw inspiration from Nasrid Palace by prioritizing decorative detail, celebrating diversity, imbuing our designs with cultural relevance, and creating buildings that are more inspiring, engaging, and meaningful.
Some modern designers from the East have tried to address the criticism of traditional designs as being excessively ornate and detracting from a structure’s fundamental characteristics. They achieve this by blending simplicity with elements drawn from traditional architectural styles to meet the needs of modern living.
The Heydar Aliyev Center in Baku, Azerbaijan is a testament to the dynamic and modern vision of Zaha Hadid Architects.
Its sweeping curves convey movement and progress and a sense of fluidity. This same sense of dynamism can be seen in the Nasrid Palace’s arches and vaults.
These two designs from different eras are strikingly parallel, with each showcasing unique interpretations of form that reflect cultural values at their respective times.
Karim Rashid’s philosophy of sensual minimalism provides an alternative solution to the problem of novelty in a world marred with sameness. His minimalism emphasizes the importance of simplicity in design for creating an emotional connection between individuals and their surroundings.
He argues that functional elements should take precedence over aesthetics, rendering extra details and styles unnecessary. For aesthetic value, one must play with shapes and colors. That’s why his work involves the careful manipulation of colors and shapes.
One issue with his approach is that his designs tend to be suggestive and evoke limited responses from people. For instance, while the pink round shape may appear pleasant, its meaning may not be sufficiently versatile or imaginative enough to accommodate individual variations in taste, preference, and personal associations with specific colors and shapes.
Perhaps that’s why traditional oriental design allows for a greater diversity of interpretation and meaning and resonates with people across generations and cultures.
Despite such critical interpretations, Zaha Hadid and Karim Rashid — both hailing from non-Western origins — aptly exhibit how crucial it is to defy conventional design standards while debunking the supremacy held by Western designers. Shifting our attention toward Oriental designers may very well be key in finding resolutions for a range of design-related predicaments; one such quandary being designing within diverse cultural settings.
With the limited space available due to human occupancy in this world, grand palaces and castles are becoming increasingly rare, therefore the combination of minimalist modern features and conventional patterns is essential as found in the work of contemporary Eastern designers.
Furthermore, one advantage that minimalism always holds over other art and design movements is its ability to resolve and streamline complex ideas into their simplest forms without overwhelming our senses.
However, there should always be a magnificent architectural creation, such as the Nasrid Palace, as a testimony to our artistic and creative capabilities. Such a grand creation should be present and continue to be built somewhere, if not everywhere.