Virtual Regionalism

Virtual Regionalism by Robert Moric 
Is it possible to discuss regional architecture and the Northwest without mentioning technology? If regional design is an expression of the culture of a place, it would seem that technology would be an important component in Seattle - home of Microsoft and its many spin-offs. The high-tech industry has already had a direct impact on architecture in the region. The wealth created by Microsoft has built homes for new million- aires and financed major city projects including the new football stadium, the Union Station development, and the Experience Music Project. So what role can technology play in architecture besides bankrolling it? 
To most people, technology and the imagery associated with Northwest style appear to be inherently at odds. It's a clash between silicone and heavy timber, software and stone. This dichotomy seems to persist in theory, too. Kenneth Frampton suggests that one aim of critical regionalism is to resist the globalizing force wrought by technology. But rather than a reflex reaction against modernization, Frampton posits developing a critical stance toward technology. In this context, the term critical does not mean to find fault or be negative. Instead, to be critical - according to social and cultural historian Raymond Williams - means to develop an active and complex relationship with a situation and its context. 
Surprisingly - or perhaps not - the attitude toward technology evidenced in Bill Gates' new residence is highly uncritical. According to Gates in The Road Ahead, the main purpose of technology is to make a house "easier to live in," but upon closer examination it is obvious that entertainment is the only function fulfilled by technology in his own home. High-definition monitors situated throughout the house display movies, television programming, and digital paintings. However, not a single system makes the house more livable by taking care of domestic chores such as cleaning, cooking, or making the bed. Instead, the latest technological advances are primarily used to allure, seduce, and shock. This is analogous to an expensive Hollywood production resorting to the latest special effects in order to entertain. 
The Gates house automatically adjusts air temperature, lighting, music, and digital art as people move from room to room. This is based on personal data programmed into pins worn by family members and select guests. However, this technological application appears to diminish experience by inhibiting spontaneity and promoting the expected and mundane. In order for the system to function optimally, all deviations from the norm need to be eliminated and all activities need to be reduced to a set of predictable tasks that can easily be programmed. Something as unpredictable as a child can cause a glitch in the system. This leads to the inevitable question: will the system serve us or will we have to adjust to the system? 
Although he may not be as savvy about architecture as he is about software, it still seems strange that Gates would feel the need to cloak technology in familiar forms. Rather than expressing the latest technological advances, the reverse is true: technology is cleverly concealed in the Gates residence. At one point in the design process there was a failed attempt to make the screens of the high-definition monitors disappear by electronically displaying a wood grain pattern. As a compromise, monitors are hidden behind sliding wood panels. Throughout the Gates house familiar forms and materials are used to soften the disruptions caused by the numerous technological interventions. The architecture of the house is seductive and can easily be mistaken for regional if evaluated exclusively on its use of heavy-timber, wood finishes, and stone. However, regional architecture should be more than formalism; it should draw on the specificity of the site and local socio-cultural conditions. This points to the irony of using a regional architectural vocabulary as the primary expressive mode for the founder of Microsoft: a company whose hallmark is globalism. 
Another often cited component of Northwest architecture - and a stated goal for the design of the Gates house - is an image of harmony with the natural world. At first glance the huge complex appears to be sub- servient to the landscape by being dug into the side of the hill. Through technology, however, the house renders the site as simply another reference to the man-made. Banks of monitors conjure up idealized and exotic scenes more enticing than the views glimpsed through the windows. Consequently, one becomes insensitive to the natural beauty and idiosyncrasies of the site. By trying to be everywhere at all times it's possible to be nowhere at any particular time: site-less, therefore homeless. 
Even though individual architectural components of the Gates residence are impeccably conceived and executed, the overall design stops short of being successful since technology is treated autonomously. The design expresses a narcissistic view of architecture and technology by fetishizing each without adding significant value to either. Only by critically integrating architecture and technology can we begin to approach what Gilles Deleuze refers to as the machinic phylum: an overall set of self-organizing processes in which previously disconnected elements - man and machine or architecture and technology - reach a synchronous level of cooperation. While the Gates house may not have achieved its full potential, it is still a valuable addition to the discourse since successful experiments merely reinforce our beliefs, but unsuccessful ones force us to modify, to adjust, and to improve. 
Robert Moric holds a Masters in Architecture from Columbia University. He currently teaches and practices in Phoenix.