Architizer's headline Zaha’s Changsha “Megaplex” Is More Zaha Than We Can Handle hints at the possibility that this project, more than any other, might represent a tipping point. But the actual tone of the article is sober and supportive, confining itself to a narrative that does no more than describe the formal development of the major components of this large complex.
In some respects, the published images indicate an architecture like many other proposals, by many other architects. These works are clearly the products of visualisation software, and of the plastic sculptural freedom such software affords anyone who can lay out a rudimentary circulation diagram. The illustrations are 'scaled' to human experience, by the same simple expedient as has always characterised architectural drawings: inserting the human figure in poses vaguely identified with the building program. Any concern about the realism of the images as representing buildable prototypes is in the first instance answered by the now common knowledge, that the illustration software captures underlying geometric data which can be fed with little further mediation to fabrication software, in turn capable of controlling machines that automatically deliver suitable components at building scale. There is no doubt that such buildings can be, and are being built.
So, do they represent the current parametric zeitgeist, a logical evolution of architecture outgrowing the artisan niche to which it was formerly adapted, or are there some other theoretical and practical implications that should be getting a better run in discussions on these sites? Again, the first reaction might be that more profound theoretical examination is to be expected in the scholarly settings of books and academic journals. Fair enough on the face of it, but a bit of a cop-out.
Even casual examination of the renderings suggests that their authors are simply not engaged in any rigorous anticipation of the built reality. It isn't that hard to comment on the absence of material clues in these otherwise photorealistic renderings; the absence, rather than the dissolution of clues to what is inside and what is outside, the missing distinctions between surfaces formerly characterised as ground, wall, or sheltering roof. More generally, this lack of coding of the layers of design intent leaves unanswered other profound questions relating to the life of the building, including how it actually achieves comfort and amenity, and whether it relies on sustainable supplies of energy to fulfill its most rudimentary functional tasks. The architects appear to be leaving that all to be somebody else's problem.
It is not a stretch to suggest that buildings like the Changsha Meixihu International Culture and Art Centre are the result of a relatively recent realisation – that really, almost anything is possible. But is it good for us to leave that proposition hanging, without self-imposed constraints and qualifications? Surely the theoretical discourse takes on an ethical dimension, in which even populist on-line magazines can engage? Something to do with whether imposing on others the consequences of such wanton profligacy should be the dominant paradigm of public architecture?
Of course, there is much more to interrogating the theoretical underpinnings of an architectural proposal, than asking whether it is right or wrong to stretch budgets. For me as a teacher, the implication of 'anything is possible' has very particular, everyday consequences – and many might be surprised that they are almost all negative. Imagine trying to maintain a shared critical framework with a student, in which to communicate that not all is right with his or her developing studio design. If students are seduced by Zaha in her 'anything is possible' mode, they have little incentive to accept such a critique. While the concepts of 'right' or 'wrong' are contestable, to have no such concepts makes learning very difficult.
