Two Languages for Architecture. Nikos A. Salingaros Department of Mathematics, University of Texas at San Antonio, San Antonio, Texas 78249, USA. salingar@sphere.math.utsa.edu */Talk presented at the International Seminar: "Architecture, Community, and Participation: Which Language?", University of Rome III, 4-5 April 2002. Published in /**/Plan Net Online Architectural Resources/* */ (February 2003), approximately 8 pages./* *Abstract*. Design in architecture and urbanism is guided by two distinct, interacting languages: a pattern language, and a form language. The pattern language contains rules for how human beings interact with built forms -- a pattern language encapsulates practical solutions developed over millennia, which are appropriate to local customs, society, and climate. A form language, on the other hand, consists of geometrical rules for putting matter together. It is visual and tectonic, traditionally arising from available materials and their human uses rather than from images. Different form languages correspond to different architectural traditions, or styles. The problem is that not all form languages are adaptive to human sensibilities. Those that are not adaptive can never connect to a pattern language. Every adaptive design method combines a pattern language with a viable form language, otherwise it automatically creates alien environments. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ * /Introduction: Pattern Language and Form Language./ * /Linking pattern language to form language./ * /Antipatterns do not define a language./ * /Analogies in human communication./ * /The internal structure of form languages./ * /The transmission of a style as a virus./ * /Minimal complexity and life processes./ * /Architecture as a living process./ * /A new architecture./ * /Conclusion./ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ *Introduction: Pattern Language and Form Language.* Architectural design is a highly complex undertaking, which has been subject to a mysticism that obscured the processes at its base. Attempts to clarify the design process have been many, yet we still don't have a design method that can be used by students and novices to achieve practical results. Even professional designers sometimes present solutions that can only be termed "aberrant" and even "perverse". In the absence of a design method and accompanying criteria for judging a design, everything is subjective, and therefore what is built today is influenced largely by fashion, forced tastes, and the desire for shocking innovation. Following Christopher Alexander and Léon Krier, I believe very strongly that there exist invariant laws behind design in general, and architecture in particular. This paper puts forward a theory of architecture and urbanism based on two languages: the /pattern language/, and the /form language/. The pattern language encapsulates the interaction of human beings with their environment, and determines, say, how and where we walk, sit, sleep, enter a building, enjoy a room or open space, and feel at ease in our garden. The form language, on the other hand, is strictly geometrical, and represents a particular style of building. The importance of a pattern language for architecture was originally proposed by Christopher Alexander and his associates [1], and a fairly general pattern language was presented. Alexander emphasized that, while many if not most of the patterns in his pattern language were indeed universal, there actually exist an infinite number of pattern languages. Each pattern language reflects different modes of life and behavior, and is appropriate to specific climates, geographies, cultures, and traditions. It is up to the designer/architect to extract specific, non-universal patterns by examining the ways of life and tradition in a particular setting. Alexander also uses the term "form language" to describe the geometrical basis of an architectural style [2]. It has been used in this context by other architects, for example Robert Stern [3]. A form language is a set repertoire of forms that can be combined to build any building, and so it represents more than just a superficial style. The form language depends on an inherited vocabulary of forms; how they can be combined; and how different levels of scale can arise from the smaller components. One extremely successful form language, the "Classical Language", relies on a wide range of variations of the classical style of building based on Greco-Roman ancestry [3]. Every traditional architecture has its own form language. It has evolved from many different influences of culture, lifestyle, traditions, and practical concerns acting on tectonic geometry. A form language is highly dependent on traditional and local materials -- at least that was the case before the global introduction of nonspecific industrial materials. Along with many other destructive changes that came along with the industrialization of the building process in the twentieth century, the complete loss of traditional form languages around the world has been a catastrophe of tragic proportions. *Linking pattern language to form language.* I am going to propose a general theory of design, following the ideas of Christopher Alexander. Its essence is to link one pattern language to one form language so as to create a design method. The process may be summarized as follows, with details to be developed later in this paper. */An adaptive design method consists of an interacting pair: a pattern language and a form language/*/./ I have indicated what a pattern language and a form language are; we still need to understand what an /adaptive design method/ refers to. Out of many approaches to design, there are very few that result in structures and environments that are adapted both to physical human use, as well as to human sensibilities. Human use is straightforward to understand: the dimensions and geometry have to accommodate the human body and its movement. By human sensibilities, I mean that environments should make human beings feel at ease; to feel psychologically comfortable so that persons can carry out whatever functions they have to without being disturbed by the built environment. This imposes a strong constraint on the design process to adapt to the many factors (known and unknown) that will influence the user emotionally. A major source of confusion is that a design method could be adaptive, but not to human use and sensibilities. For example, it could adapt to a set of predetermined geometrical prototypes, such as cubes and rectangular slabs. This is minimalist Modernism, which has a clearly-defined geometrical goal; i.e., its peculiar crystalline form language. It is successful on its own terms while at the same time ignoring human patterns of use. This is the reason why minimalist modernism is incompatible with Alexander's Pattern Language [1]. In this paper, we will use the term "adaptive" to refer strictly to human beings, and not to abstract ideas. Since there exist an infinite number of pattern languages, and an infinite number of form languages, there are of course an infinite number of adaptive design methods. The crucial point is that there are also an infinite number of design methods that act against adaptive design by producing structures that are not suitable to human needs. In the absence of an accepted term for design that violates human needs, we will call such actions "non-adaptive design". Modernism is fundamentally non-adaptive. Its form language produces structures that are intentionally hostile to human sensibilities. Studies by environmental psychologists have confirmed physiological reactions such as the onset of anxiety and signals of body stress in modernist environments. For reasons discussed later in this paper, minimalist modernism precludes the use of patterns. That means that patterns of human function cannot be accommodated within the modernist design canon. To proudly proclaim such a design method as "functional" is a mockery of the term, but it was admittedly a remarkably effective propaganda ploy that helped to spread modernism. *Antipatterns do not define a language.* In the theory of pattern languages -- actually developed more extensively in computer architecture rather than in buildings architecture -- the concept of "antipattern" plays a central role. An antipattern shows how to do the opposite of the required solution. Sometimes this knowledge can be helpful in order to avoid making the same mistake repeatedly. As pointed out in an earlier publication [4], knowing the antipattern does not also indicate the pattern, however, since the solution space is not one dimensional; therefore, doing the opposite of the antipattern will not give the pattern, precisely because there can be many different "opposites". Antipatterns do not comprise a language, just as a collection of mistakes do not comprise a coherent body of knowledge. It is therefore not appropriate to talk of a language of antipatterns, but simply a collection of antipatterns. These could (and often do) substitute for, and displace a genuine pattern language. I have given rules for distinguishing between a true pattern language and a collection of antipatterns [4], based on their internal consistency and their connectivity to external patterns. Our present aim is, of course, to be able to discern whether a pattern language is genuine, so that we can connect it to a form language and thus define an adaptive design process. It is imperative not to be fooled by a collection of antipatterns, otherwise our design process will be non-adaptive, even though we may not know it at the beginning. We will eventually see it in the non-adaptivity of the results, at which time it will be too late (i.e., after a city such as EUR, Milton Keynes, or la Défense has been built). The analogous non-adaptive failure in a form language is more difficult to define. Most of that research is indeed very recent, and relies on mathematical properties [2]. A form language that adapts to human beings encapsulates certain very specific geometrical properties such as fractal structure, connectivity, and scaling. (I define these properties in other publications). Again, a form language that does not contain those mathematical properties should not be called a language at all, because it is too sparse to define a rich language of forms. We will call such a form language a "crude form language", or "protolanguage". As can be seen from the above definition, an adaptive design method requires the union of a pattern language with a form language. If either the pattern language or the form language are flawed, then the design method will fail to create adaptive structures. One may employ a pattern language together with a crude form language to create structures unsuitable for human habitation and use, such as modernist buildings that try to use Alexandrine patterns. They may satisfy some functional patterns, but they still feel dead and alienating, so that users are uncomfortable. Other examples were built by alternative "counterculture" architects soon after the Pattern Language [1] appeared. They satisfy all the patterns, yet they look chaotic and unbalanced -- far from satisfying Alexander's original intent [2]. In the opposite instance, one can use antipatterns together with a decent form language to damage the environment. Buildings were built in the Classical form language that are inhuman either because of scale, megalomania, or the desire to intimidate. They may look nice from a distance, but are hostile in actual use. This is a characteristic of some Fascist architecture. Modernist architects were also very fond of employing part of the same language of rich, detailed materials, but to intentionally create alien forms. It is only the correct pairing of pattern language with form language that gives an adaptive design method. The architecture of squatter settlements is an interesting case of genuinely adaptive application. Slum dwellers use a particular form language determined by available scrap materials to build their houses. Residents are preoccupied with basic survival, and have no wish to copy elements of a theoretical form language. They definitely apply a pattern language (albeit unknowingly) because they want their dwellings to be as comfortable as possible. Here we have an excellent example of an adaptive design method, which, were it not for the miserable conditions of life represented by the overcrowded slums of the world, is an excellent example for architecture schools to teach. *Analogies in human communication. * I can think of a parallel for two design languages in the necessity of pairing two entirely distinct types of language to enable human communication. Spoken language is used together with nonverbal emotional cues. These independent channels usually interact when one is speaking face-to-face with another person, and even on the telephone. Nonverbal communication gives a message of friendliness, ease of interaction, emotional comfort, or hostility independently of what the spoken language is communicating. Nonverbal cues are the basis of a host of messages that are often more important than verbal content. Human beings developed and need both verbal and nonverbal modes of communication. Nonverbal cues carry through in telephone conversations because one can hear emotional signals encoded in the speaker's tone of voice and inflections. This is obviously not as effective as speaking in front of one-another. A decreasing sequence of information content corresponds to the gradual loss of the nonverbal language, and is represented by regressing from face-to-face meeting, to videoconference, to telephone, to handwritten letter, to e-mail, to typed memorandum. This is appreciated by the business world, where the value of serious communication is reflected in the price busy executives are willing to pay to arrange face-to-face negotiations. As both lovers and fighters know very well, one can rely almost entirely on nonverbal language for rapid communication in certain situations. Indeed, in those situations, it is sometimes the case that verbal language is used to decoy the true feelings and intentions of the parties involved. Amateurs cannot disguise their emotional language and so betray their true intentions. Psychopaths and hardened criminals, however, learn to control their nonverbal cues so as to support what they communicate through verbal language, and thus deceive their victims. Here we are interested in building things rather than communicating a message. Still, as the linguistic analogy makes clear, a building or urban setting communicates a wealth of signals to human beings, and those signals influence the structures' eventual use. The built environment needs to communicate on many different levels. It is therefore imperative that we be aware that several different design languages contribute to the overall effect on users. The model of two languages -- a pattern language and a form language -- is a simplification of what is probably a more complex phenomenon, yet it is a necessary first step to understanding the design process. *The internal structure of form languages. * All human spoken languages are contained in a "metalanguage", which has a grammatical or syntactical structure common to all known languages [5]. Human languages, even in the most technologically primitive cultures known, are not themselves "primitive". Independently of their technological achievements, all groups of human beings have developed a richly complex spoken language. Differences arise in specificities, in the breadth of vocabulary for concepts important to that culture, and in their transition to a written language, but those do not affect the general richness of the language. This point is easy to explain from the mathematics of communication. In order to describe and communicate complex human activities and interactions, a spoken language itself has to have an extraordinary capacity for encoding complexity. An isolated primitive tribe has developed millennia of complex activities that are comparable to the complex activities of an urban dweller in the most advanced industrialized nations. For this reason, both sets of people require, and have developed, a richly complex spoken language. An artificially crude language, on the other hand, would not be sufficient for verbal communication. It would consist of, say, six words such as: yes, no, hot, cold, eat, drink. It is a protolanguage that a computer would understand, or a person stranded among others who spoke a different language. In this example of a non-speaker amidst people speaking another language, however, he or she will rapidly pick up the host language, facilitated by innate metalinguistic structures that define the person's own native language. What we conclude from the study of spoken and written languages is that, whereas each may appear totally distinct on the surface, its level of complexity and its internal structure have to obey general principles. A protolanguage, on the other hand, is characterized by the absence of such internal complexity and structure. It has been proposed that the transition from a protolanguage to a real language corresponds to the evolutionary transition from the language of apes (and people brought up in linguistic deprivation) to human language [5]. Turning now to architecture, a viable form language is characterized by its internal complexity. Furthermore, the complexity of different form languages is comparable, because each shares a commonality with other form languages on a general metalinguistic level. So, while each form language is distinct, it is not really a form language unless it possesses a minimum of complex internal structure. The exact details of the structure must necessarily parallel the internal structure of pattern languages [4]. Roughly, these are described as /combinatorial/, /connective, /and/ hierarchical/ features. The accuracy of our argument is borne out by the enormous number of distinct form languages developed independently by different peoples around the world. It is reasonable to claim that for each spoken language, there is also a form language. Loosely (and deprecatingly) classed together as "vernacular architectures", this vast body of complex styles shames the poverty of "official" architectural styles. In terms of richness and sophistication, contemporary form languages promoted by the architectural magazines represent an evolutionary regression. Perhaps in order to protect its own obvious deficiencies, the architectural establishment has been destroying traditional architecture as fast as it can. *The transmission of a style as a virus. * If we oversimplify a form language and call it an architectural "style", then we can discuss and explain some events in architectural history. We are now faced with a serious contradiction. Why do some design styles proliferate even though they are poorly adapted to human use and sensibilities? (Such styles or design methods could be deficient because they lack either the pattern language, or the form language, or both). Even worse, it appears that the most damaging, least adaptive styles actually proliferate with the greatest ease. The answer is frightening in its implications for our civilization. In analogy with the replication of viruses, the crudest minimalist form languages spread the fastest in society [6]. That is simply because they encode a minimum of information. The "style" as an informational unit to transmit among human minds in a population carries over better when it is simplest. A few catchy images, such as flat sheer surfaces, transparent glass walls, pilotis, shiny "industrial" materials such as polished steel, etc. define a simplistic style. Never mind that the components of this protolanguage do not define a true form language; the public accepts them because of propaganda from respected authorities [6]. We know how the spread of a virus can be accelerated, as part of the arsenal of biological terrorists. First, disguise the pathogen in seemingly attractive substances, so as to have the victims consume it voluntarily. This corresponds to the promise that modernist architecture and planning solve social problems and liberate oppressed classes [6]. The people buy that. Second, artificially spread samples of the virus in as many places as possible so that the maximum number of persons will become infected. Here the media plays a key role, showing and praising modernist structures and urban projects [6]. Our architectural schools and press have done a very effective job of promoting protolanguages while suppressing true form languages. Someone who has been raised in the twentieth century and taught that beautiful objects have no hierarchical organization will then apply this rule subconsciously to build a building or a city. The reason for this can be traced back to artistic and design trends in the 1920s. Design in art and architecture overturned all established rules of treating three-dimensional forms and two-dimensional images. Concepts such as hierarchy were eliminated. They had never been written down; they exist in nature and as examples in all traditional art and architecture. The new artificial objects: paintings, sculptures, and buildings influenced the way we think. They serve as mental templates for conceptualization. Why did this occur only at the beginning of the twentieth century and not before? I believe that it had to do with radical social changes spurred by population pressure so that for the first time, some people were willing to sacrifice adaptive design in exchange for the false promise of a better future [6]. Prior to that, people on all socioeconomic levels shaped their environment as far as they could to provide physical and emotional comfort. Another contributing factor was the creation of a new communications network formed by the convergence of telephone, telegraph, newspapers, magazines, and film. The new media tied the world together as never before, yet also made possible the rapid proliferation of advertising and political propaganda. The spread of modernism could never have occurred were it not for the new media [6]. Just as in the case of internet computer viruses, which could not exist before the internet, crude architectural form languages could spread only through architectural picture magazines. *Minimal complexity and life processes. * An excursion into biology is helpful here. There is a direct analogy between architecture and living processes. In examining how life arises, Freeman Dyson proposes that two distinct processes characterize all living forms: /metabolism,/ and /replication/ [7]. Metabolism involves the physical interaction of an organism with its environment in a way that portions of the environment -- i.e., nutrients -- enter and are processed chemically by the organism. There is an interpenetration between the organism and the environment which maintains the functions of the organism via a chemical engine. The other component of life, replication, is the distinguishing characteristic of forms that survive through copies. Although an organism needs pieces of the environment as raw material to build a copy of itself, the replicative process is fundamentally distinct from metabolism. Replication is directly dependent upon coding the organism's structure into a template, so that replication is theoretically tied to information storage rather than to interactivity. Perhaps the most important distinction between the two components of living structure is their independence. This is better discussed in terms of artificial life, as, for example, in entities generated by, and residing in a computer. It is possible to create a metabolizing entity in the sense that it moves around on the screen and is nourished by devouring other nearby entities. It does not, however, have to reproduce. If one has played with the computer game "Sim City", then one imagines how an internally complex entity can survive indefinitely, and even grow in complexity as long as necessary "nutrients" are inputted. It can carry on an existence independent of other complex entities -- it only needs simple supplies. On the other hand, it is also possible to create a computer virus whose sole function is to replicate. A virus does not metabolize -- it is simply a minimal piece of code (either computer, or genetic) that uses the internal machinery of a far more complex entity in order to make copies of itself. A pure replicator cannot carry out an independent existence -- it is entirely dependent on more complex entities for its continued survival. Without them, it lies dormant as an inanimate piece of information. This is the reason why biological viruses are considered not to be really "alive", but to somehow occupy the interface between inanimate crystals and living forms. *Architecture as a living process. * Turning now to architectural form, we identify the metabolic aspect of living structure with the pattern language. After all, a pattern language dictates how built form interacts with human activities, which are the defining characteristics of a useful structure. A building is perceived as functionally "alive" when it accommodates human functions in an exemplary fashion. This is entirely independent from the style in which it is built, though the way it is built, and the way it looks, have a major impact in whether humans feel comfortable inside and around such a building. A building that is built so as to discourage or hinder human activity is effectively "dead", since no-one wants to use it. Replication of a building style does not depend upon whether it is useful or not, but on its form language. A building replicates if for some reason an architect decides to erect another similar building somewhere else. We naively imagine that this is due to a building's success in accommodating human beings and their activities, but this is not the case. A building replicates only because its form language is used to build another building, and this is independent of the original building's success. The principal factor behind this is the ease of copying a particular form language (which becomes an unbeatable advantage in a protolanguage). Other factors that influence the success of a particular form language include sociopolitical forces that condemn one style while promoting another style; the physical presence of a particular style so that it can be copied by everybody; the /virtual/ presence of a particular style promoted in terms of visual images currently fashionable in the media; etc. Obviously, techniques of advertising and proselytizing can promote a protolanguage and spread it in the environment, after which its dominance guarantees further spread. If the form language is too bizarre, involved, or idiosyncratic, then the building, even though it may be perfectly adapted to its uses, will not be used as a model for another building. This helps to explain why certain successful buildings were never used as typological prototypes. On the positive side, it is doubtful whether deconstructivist buildings will take off like modernist buildings did -- simply because their protolanguage is not copyable. On the negative side, Art Nouveau buildings also did not spread, in part because their sophisticated form language could not compete with the simplistic protolanguage of early modernism [6]. Since a form language is one-half of the pair pattern/form languages, a form language must tie in to a pattern language. Here is where the crucial distinction is made between effective and ineffective form languages, as far as human use is concerned. A crude form language can be enormously successful at replicating, but be totally unsuited for human needs because it cannot encode complex enough information. Form languages that are adaptive have to join mathematically with a pattern language. The join is possible only if the two languages share a comparable internal structure. Two abstract languages can interface only if they both share similar structural characteristics. One of those characteristics is a hierarchical structure, while another is an internal combinatorial structure. Just with these two requirements, we can exclude the modernist style and the deconstructivist style as lacking the fundamental basics of a form language that can join a pattern language. It follows that it is hopeless to try to satisfy a pattern language using the form language of either modernism, or deconstructivism. Perhaps because of this perceived impossibility, Alexander's pattern language [1] has been ignored by the architectural profession for the last twenty years. *A new architecture.* It is possible to begin implementing a program for the new architecture, but only after globally institutionalized architectural forces are neutralized [6]. What this paper proposes will appear as totally impractical to present-day architectural students, who have been trained in an architecture of empty images and bizarre forms. They are falsely taught that architecture depends on simplistic protolanguages: first modernism, then postmodernism, then deconstructivism. The basis for real architecture, which was outlined here, has no relation to what is currently taught in architecture schools. The only way to change this is to replace the teaching in leading institutions with a curriculum on how to design buildings and cities for human use. The new architecture will, not surprisingly, look a lot like traditional architecture [8]. If it is successful, it will certainly elicit the same feelings of naturalness as those historical built regions still preserved around the world. Yet, as Léon Krier emphasizes, we can build today urban environments that are every bit as comfortable as the greatest examples built in the past. The widely disseminated opinion that we cannot reproduce the past for a multitude of reasons is just propaganda: Christopher Alexander [2], Léon Krier [8], and other sensitive architects have built new structures that are timeless in their human adaptation. These ideas are rapidly coming together with scientific support from my own work to define a new architectural paradigm. We will see the inevitable collapse of the present architectural system, sooner or later, because of its irrelevance to human life. It is time to begin training the young architects who will build the future, and who will be asked to repair the wounds inflicted upon the built environment over the past several decades. In all probability, the demand will come from society itself. When that time comes, graduates of today's institutions who can only impose destructive images on the environment will be unemployable. *Conclusion*. This paper has presented a theory of design based on the combination of two types of language: a pattern language, and a form language. The pattern language encodes elements of human interaction with buildings that are to be found in traditional architecture and urbanism. The form language corresponds to whatever geometrical style the building or urban region has. In principle, there is enormous freedom to choose a form language. Nevertheless, what is used in place of a form language in our times is not complex enough to define a language at all, which results in environments unsuitable for human use. Moreover, the adoption of an overly simplistic form language, such as modernism, precludes the necessary link with a pattern language, thus guaranteeing that human needs will never be satisfied. Once these mechanisms are known, it would appear reasonable that the world could again build its cities in a way to accommodate human beings. Another factor, however, comes into play: a form language spreads as a virus among the population of minds. The characteristics of a successful virus/form-language are the opposite of those of a form language required for adaptive design. The fast-spreading one is too simple for human use, whereas the useful one spreads too slowly to compete. Thus, we are fighting against a scientific phenomenon: adaptive design is difficult to spread, whereas pathological design spreads very easily. Hopefully, our civilization has enough foresight to reverse this process, and save what is left of our built heritage. *References* 1. Alexander, C., Ishikawa, S., Silverstein, M., Jacobson, M., Fiksdahl-King, I. and Angel, S. (1977). /A Pattern Language/, Oxford University Press, New York. 2. Alexander, Christopher (2001). /The Nature of Order/, Oxford University Press, New York. 3. Stern, Robert A. M. (1988). /Modern Classicism/, Rizzoli, New York. 4. Salingaros, Nikos A. (2000). "The Structure of Pattern Languages" in /Architectural Research Quarterly/, vol. *4*, pp. 149-161. 5. Maynard-Smith, John and Szathmáry, Eörs (1999). /The Origins of Life/, Oxford University Press, Oxford. 6. Salingaros, Nikos A. and Mikiten, Terry M. (2002). "Darwinian Processes and Memes in Architecture: A Memetic Theory of Modernism" in /Journal of Memetics -- Evolutionary Models of Information Transmission/, vol. *6*, approximately 15 pages . Reprinted in /DATUTOP Journal of Architectural Theory/, vol. *23* (2002), pp. 117-139. 7. Dyson, Freeman (1999). /Origins of Life/, (Revised Edition), Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. 8. Krier, Léon (1998). /Architecture: Choice or Fate/, Andreas Papadakis, Windsor, Berkshire, England. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Publications in Architecture, Complexity, and Urbanism