Arch Viz: The legacy of the past and its relevance to the future

 Image Courtesy: MIR

Images such as this one by MIR, in which the dramatic use of light and dark, atmospheric effects and perspective makes a powerfully emotive visual statement, have become a familiar feature of architectural visualization. One only has to glance through the last few years’ winners and nominees for CGArchitect’s 3D Awards (the commissioned category) or browse through its gallery of featured images to see what a prominent position this style holds in the industry.

The visual rhetoric employed here is far from new. But that is not a criticism. Rather, it points to something very interesting. Briefly put, these images are, to a considerable extent, a continuation (or revival) of the North European Romantic tradition in painting. This raises the question: why did a style that was specific to northern Europe during the first half of the 19th century, and that arose as a response to a very specific cultural situation, re-emerge so strongly in the 21st century, and why does it now have such a global currency?

To answer this, we need to go back to the 17th century when Sir Isaac Newton presented the world with his Principia Mathematica, one of the greatest works of both physical science and applied mathematics. Newton firmly believed that, by revealing, in this work, the mathematical order that underlies the workings of the universe, he was demonstrating the existence of God, the Divine Architect. This view, shared by most of his scientific contemporaries, was effectively a development an older philosophic tradition that goes back to the late Middle Ages. And it was responsible, to a large degree, for the buoyant optimism that characterized the first phase of the 18th century Enlightenment. (The notion that most Enlightenment philosophers and intellectuals were atheists is far from true). But this happy marriage of science and religion was not to last. During the 18th century new scientific discoveries started to cast an ever-increasing shadow of doubt on this world-view. As the historian Norman Hampson puts it, science was defecting to the enemy, and intellectuals were now faced with the very real possibility of a universe governed by blind chance and meaningless chaos. This precipitated one of the biggest intellectual and spiritual crises in Western European history, one that was to leave a marked impact on the culture of the modern age.

Philosophers, poets, artists, composers and other intellectuals responded to this crisis by turning to their intuitive ‘inner voice,’ which was believed to have the power to penetrate beyond the reach of empirical observation – and therefore beyond the scope of science – to reveal the eternal, divine truths of the cosmos. Jean Jacques Rousseau largely laid the philosophic foundations for this belief and Immanuel Kant gave it its most authoritative treatment. This movement culminated in the Romanticism of the first half of the 19th century. One of the greatest exponents of Romanticism in painting was Caspar David Friedrich, who used landscape as a vehicle to express his sense of the divine in nature. 

Caspar David Friedrich. The Wanderer above the Sea of Mist. 1817. Hamburger Kunsthalle.

The lone wanderer in this iconic Friedrich masterpiece is not merely a tourist admiring a spectacular view. He is the archetypal Romantic searching for communion with the divine. Traditional Christian iconography was no longer seen as viable because the emerging scientific worldview was steadily undermining the credibility of such overtly supernatural imagery. Therefore, God had to be sought through more abstract means. Artists in the Protestant North of Europe, who for centuries had been grappling with the issue of not being allowed to openly represent the divine on canvas, were at a distinct advantage here. Friedrich, a devout Protestant (who seriously considered becoming a pastor) was therefore well-positioned for his pioneering role of searching outside established religious iconographic traditions to reveal the divine in a more abstract way.

Albert Bierstadt. Among the Sierra Nevada, California. 1868. Smithsonian Museum of American Art.

The landscape tradition started by Friedrich and others spread to far-flung parts of the world. The spectacular natural landscape of the Americas proved ideal for the expression of the sublime, as this view of the Sierra Nevada (1868) by Albert Bierstadt demonstrates. The Romantic pursuit of the sublime in nature was essentially a preoccupation with those aspects of nature that instilled an overwhelming sense of awe, wonder, and even terror in the viewer – a type of scene that could make the viewer feel as if they were in the hidden presence of an omnipotent divine being. With time the original spiritual concerns of the Romantics were often replaced by what is merely picturesque views of natural grandeur. It is not always easy to say whether a scene such as the one above falls into the former or the latter category, or somewhere in between. But it would be a mistake to condemn such art for straying from the original intention of Friedrich and his Romantic colleagues. The same visual language is used but adapted to a new cultural context.

This is equally true of the use of this tradition in architectural visualization. The visual repertoire of the sublime has become a prominent feature of arch viz imagery. The following image, by Labtop, is an excellent example. The awe-inspiring mountain peaks and cliffs have been replaced by equally awe-inspiring, precipitous architecture. The thunderous, billowing clouds and other atmospheric effects have remained more or less the same, as have the dramatic effects of light and shadow.

Image Courtesy: Labtop

Friedrich also used architecture, specifically ancient ruins, to convey his message (see below), and his utterly poetic, evocative treatment of the interaction between architecture and the natural environment has played a fundamental role in establishing the visual rhetoric inherited by arch viz, as can be seen in the following image by Blok Studio.

Caspar David Friedrich. Monastery Graveyard in the Snow. 1817-19. Destroyed in a WW2 bombing raid.

Image Courtesy: Blok Studio, inspired by House to Catch the Forest, by Tezuka Architects

But the contemporary use of this tradition is not confined to the familiar vocabulary of emotive atmospheric effects, as seen above. Through a carefully considered composing of all the visual elements – the balance of light and dark areas, of contrasting shapes, hues, levels of saturation, textures, etc. – the following two images, by MIR and Luxigon respectively, evoke a powerful sense of mystery that comes remarkably close to the similar effect created by the art of Friedrich and his colleagues. 

Image Courtesy: MIR

Image Courtesy: Luxigon

But why has this tradition gained such currency in the 21st century? One could track the historic dispersal of this tradition across the planet during the last two centuries, but this would not fully answer the question. The answer might lie, to an important extent, in the fact that humans find it hard to break with their very long-standing traditions of spiritual belief and experience. Leading academics in the field of evolutionary psychology, such as Robin Dunbar, have recently argued that religion, developing out of collective song and dance, played a crucial role in the evolution of the human mind – a process for which the groundwork was laid, in earlier hominin species, long before the emergence of Homo sapiens. Because of this, whether or not we are actively religious, we have an inbuilt propensity for a religious mode of thought, feeling and behavior. We live in a world that is increasingly dominated by science and technology, which are constantly at odds with this spiritual inclination. It makes sense to argue, therefore, that this crisis of the human spirit, which was initially precipitated by scientific advances during the 18th century, makes images such as these more relevant than ever, speaking powerfully to our instinctive natures – no matter where you may find yourself on this planet or what culture you belong to. The sense of perfect harmony between cutting edge modern architecture and the sublime effects of nature, which can be found in the finest of these images, is arguably, amongst other things, a way of dealing with this crisis – even if it is only by escaping into the fictional world of art, where the conflict is momentarily resolved. 

All of this naturally makes arch viz images of this kind powerful marketing tools. But many of these images give the impression that the primary driving force behind their creation is a more purely aesthetic one – that marketing, and the income that it generates, is sometimes merely a means towards a more human and artistic end. They are serious works of art in their own right, regardless of their commercial application.

This pursuit of artistic goals brings to mind a recent discussion between Jeff Mottle and Justin Hunt (in CGArchitect of 14th December 2017, following Juraj Talcik’s article Finding your look). They were talking, with reference to a previous post by Jeff, about the lack of inspiration in arch viz and how the democratization of rendering will seriously threaten the viability of many studios that rely mainly on their technical skills. The upshot of it is that artistic creativity is going to become crucially important for the survival of arch viz studios in the very near future. With designers and architects who are not technically inclined soon being able to do their own visualizations, arch viz studios will have to offer something more – they will have to be able to produce images that display a level of artistic creativity in image-making that is beyond the scope of the average client. Studios such as those featured here, as well as others who pursue artistic creativity in different, but equally effective idioms, have already shown the way forward here. Their striving for true artistic creativity has multiple benefits. Apart from the aesthetic satisfaction that the image gives to both the artist and the viewer, and the marketing power that this brings, this approach could also ensure the survival and further development of the industry.

Understanding how arch viz fits into a general history of art is important here. The past can hold vital clues to future possibilities, and the ability to identify and analyze currents that drive and shape cultural phenomena in a wider arena will enable us to navigate the future more decisively and effectively. It is comforting to know (or suppose) that, in spite of the bewildering technological changes that lie ahead, certain fundamental human needs will probably remain relatively unchanged, precisely because they are extremely old and therefore basic to our natures. And the future shock generated by these changes will make the need to address these deep-seated human values and attitudes even stronger.

Written by Deon Liebenberg   

After a stint as art director, Deon Liebenberg has gone back into teaching. In collaboration with Construct Media, a Cape Town based architectural visualisation studio, he is currently developing a training programme to equip design and visualisation students for the challenges of the near future when computers will replace many people in the job market.

https://constructmedia.co.uk/