建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑

迈克尔·贝内迪克特/Michael Benedikt尚晋 译/Translated by SHANG Jin



建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑

迈克尔·贝内迪克特/Michael Benedikt
尚晋 译/Translated by SHANG Jin

摘要：艺术现代性的一大特征是对其自身载体特性的自觉。这种自觉趋于将永远“前卫”的智力艺术与社会阶层路线的大众和经典艺术区分开。但艺术会像物种一样进化，过去100年中音乐的进化在速度和多样性上均胜于建筑。建筑若要更多地向音乐学习，就不能只是对二者在结构和心理上的相似性进行不时的反思，或是为音乐创造美妙的建筑以及为建筑创造音乐。它必须革新建筑创作、“分配”和回报的基本方式——使之进化。它还必须找到新的、而非讽刺的手法来复兴与融合自身的经典传统，就像新音乐那样。

Abstract:One of the hallmarks of modernity in arts is a selfconscious interest in the nature of their own media. This interest has tended to separate intellectual art, forever "avantgarde", from both popular and classical art, along social class lines. But arts evolve rather like species do, and music has evolved much faster and more richly than architecture has over the last hundred years. If architecture is to learn more from music, it will have to do more than occasionally re fl ect on the structural and psychological similarities between them or make nice buildings for music and music for buildings. It will have to update-evolve-the very way architecture is produced, "distributed", and paid for. And it will have to fi nd new, non-ironic ways to refresh and incorporate its own classical traditions, just as New Music has.

关键词：建筑，音乐，进化

Keywords:architecture, music, evolution

Music in Architecture · Architecture in Music

音乐与建筑之间存在着诸多相似性：二者都是超越生存底线的文化表达；二者都可划分为从民俗到先锋的流派，以及各种时代风格；二者都有各自的调色板（一种是声音或者“声音材料”，一种是有形材料）；二者都表现出有规律的重复的结构（韵律、序列、乐句、模数等）。此外，二者都需要极具才华而富有活力的个人——作曲家和设计大师——他们先从模仿先前的大师开始，而后走上自己的道路。建筑与音乐最后必须在现实世界中实现：演奏、建造、聆听、居住。乐谱与建筑图纸可以进行说明，但并不是全部。

音乐与建筑之间的区别也同样明显，而这就意味着把音乐和建筑相提并论的人必须更深入、更犀利，而不只是列出它们的相似性——这种相似性只会说明比喻是不着边际的，却不涉及这两种艺术本身。

古巴比伦人看到了建筑与音乐之间的关联，古希腊人也是。毕达哥拉斯（显然是从巴比伦人那里）学到了绷紧的弦长与拨动它时发出音高之间的关系，此外还有弦长与和声之间的比例（击棒、木琴或拇指琴以及排笛等管乐亦然）。这种关系对他们而言根本不是比喻。在巴比伦人和希腊人看来，这是对现实本身的探索，一条从客观几何与数字游戏通向对美的直接、直观的感知。到了公元1世纪，维特鲁威指出，所有建筑师都应该研习音乐“以掌握标准的数学关系”[1]（据笔者所知，他没有提倡作曲家学习建筑）。1835年，歌德将建筑描述为“凝固的音乐”则是更具浪漫色彩的一笔。这不仅指出了这两种艺术的形式或数学基础，更点明了二者的情感力1）。这种双重特征大致对应着二者的社会阶层：较高的阶层“懂得数学”并能感受到更细腻的情感；较低的阶层不懂数学，只能感受粗疏的情感。

有些东西是永恒的。

当然，现代音乐与现代建筑更关注自身的形式与有形的可能性——即他们的“数学”——而不是常人的感情（当然，如果后者成为一个副产品也不错）。关注自身的媒介和方法成为进步的现代性的标志。在其先锋的前沿，中产阶级会质问：“嗯，但这是音乐么？”“嗯，但这是绘画么？”“嗯，但这是建筑么？”而这会成为一种荣誉的标签。在很大程度上，今天还是这样。虽然 “参数化建筑”像20世纪中叶的“严肃音乐”一样——抽象、陶醉、渴求新感受，以摒弃流行性为动机——但作曲家固有的材料是声音，建筑师固有的材料是空间，这种观念并没有被大多数人抛弃。

除建筑之外的所有艺术都已前进，就连严肃音乐都已前进（但并不是没有作曲家依旧自诩“音乐艺术家”）。前进到了哪里？到了对政治、关系、比喻、历史和情感现实的兴趣，到了对粗糙、人的表演和工艺以及前现代艺术的兴趣——其意义单元绝不是简单的物理单元（空间、时间、质量、运动、振动等），也不是唯我论现象学（我时刻的见闻、质朴、孤独）。若要了解我所谓的21世纪的古典音乐（有时被称为新音乐），可以听一听约翰·亚当斯、迈克尔·托克、康伦·南卡罗、保罗·德雷舍、费尔南多·奥特罗、安娜·克莱因、埃里克·惠特克、奥斯瓦尔多·戈利约夫、伊桑·弗雷德里克·格林和叶夫根尼·沙拉特等人的作品。这是当下数十位从传统（非）音调和形式中找到新生命的作曲家的一部分2）。在“严肃建筑”的世界中，这个名单就没那么容易列了。我们可以列上王澍和斯韦勒·芬恩么？当然，不能列SANAA或是BIG，他们在现代主义的两个极端上更进一步：一边是纯粹的极简主义，另一边是超现实的功能主义。也不能列1970-1980年代的后现代主义者。

那么，新的音乐给建筑传递了什么信息？我相信：波普不是曾经时髦而今陈腐的“试验”现代主义的唯一替代品。极度悬挑、玻璃墙、技术狂、无穷的“模糊内外边界”（就好像这是一种不证自明的伟大成就）或是将建筑放入地下，仿佛羞于露面的藏在地毯底下——如今都已毫无新意，脱离了生活。其中的矛盾在于，每位运用这些手法的建筑师都希望自己住在19世纪的巴黎或是略加修整的古老乡村别墅（当然实际上要比这好得多）。

幸运的是，音乐和建筑都在进化，即便速度不同。进化有两个过程：变异的繁殖和选择。“繁殖”是模仿早期作品，“变异”指不完美的模仿（原因多种多样，包括刻意的不同）。“选择”指通过判断让某些内容不再繁殖，要么因为它们在得到机会之前就灭绝（或被毁掉，或被遗忘），要么因为它们过于复杂，要求大量细致准确的“文字工作”而难以推进或完成。一切艺术形式、风格、流派和思想都有这样两个过程，尽管人类是选择者，而“繁殖”更像复制。不过，成功的艺术形式、风格、流派和思想不断增多、繁衍（繁衍的确是生物学上“成功”的定义），而不成功的就不会繁衍，或只是在特定、有限的环境中或生态位上少量繁衍。严肃音乐的世界与严肃建筑的世界（比如这种杂志中的）只是两种这样的生态位。在这里，就像生态位中的动物一样，健康（更多的生存机会）和富有魅力（更多的繁殖机会）就是一切3）。在建筑上能成功的，就像在音乐中一样，是在某些技术经济生态位上能够生存的，以及被认为是可繁殖的（“我们可以创造出这样的建筑”“我们可以创造出这样的音乐，并备受欢迎”），而且的确如此。

如今，经过几代的进化就会呈现个体或种类的复杂性，包括（文化）专业化和（生物）种别化。这种趋势是由繁殖成功本身驱动的。毕竟，某个领域越是拥挤，就越难在竞争中取胜。关注细节、刻苦努力、更好的社会组织、运气和个人创造力愈发重要……直到出现新的技术或理念（或DNA变化），让艺术与人的生存或繁殖突然变得更加容易。重置！游戏又开始了。这就发生在1920年的建筑上，功能主义意识形态逐渐剥除精妙，使混凝土框架和幕墙工艺变得更快速、更廉价。低效花哨的新古典主义再见！小巷和人行道再见！

对于1950年代的音乐，（带电子扩音的）摇滚让人不再需要多年的音乐训练和教育。任何4个少年都能组成乐队，让5000年历史的音乐社会化步入新的纪元。录音、收音机和高保真音乐史无前例地进入家庭。有了数字合成音乐、iTunes和耳机，全新的音乐获取、策划和消费随即出现。随着技术的普遍和唾手可得的目标得以实现，竞争又重新出现，进化继续。今天，从氛围音乐到柴迪科舞曲，各个音乐类型的顶级艺术家必须掌握的音乐、制作和商务的复杂性都是50年前不可想象的。

与此同时，建筑发生了什么？它改善、发展、进化了吗？它分化成数百个类别，每个都需要专业的创作技术与选择的眼光，并与过去的模式有机地连接起来了吗？是的，但没有这么多。不考虑计算机，全球大量出现的建筑一目了然：体形巨大、毫无特色、快速建成的各种实用建筑——酒店、公寓楼、仓库、办公楼——矗立在坚硬的高速公路之间，千篇一律。雷姆·库哈斯所谓的建筑助兴音乐、伪劣品、垃圾空间，背后是一堆陈旧的建筑思想。

为什么？建筑师不用争夺开明的客户么？建筑不用争夺买家、租户和摄影师么？如果需要，他们的技艺为何没有根本性的提升——进化——就像音乐、电影、汽车、照相机和计算机那样？主要的原因在于：无法取悦或吸引或满足听众的音乐很快就会消逝，不留遗迹、没有消耗，也不占用空间。建筑不是这样。建筑用户更替的速度远远慢于从零开始建造一栋建筑的速度。结果，平庸和低劣的建筑得以保留。可以肯定的是，它们对租户的吸引力在下降，入住率降低。没有人在维护它们（于是倾颓得更快），甚至无人居住，但它们不会立刻被拆除并进行更新。相反，它们的形象得以生根，经济和心理的压抑影响着周围的街区。这些建筑仅因创造足够的收入就会存在……但它们依然被复制。为什么？某种意义上是因为人们对它们根本就没有什么期望，因而使问题延续：选择的压力根本不存在。相反，陈旧糟糕的音乐很快就会被新颖优美的音乐取代，甚至根本无人演奏。结果，音乐的创作永无止境，类型不断增多，专业水准持续提高4）。

要在建筑领域里激发出音乐领域一般的活力，需要模仿音乐领域里的经济生态。这最突出地体现在世博会和奥运会的建筑上。在这里，昂贵、富有创造力、短暂、被赋予“登月”般竞争使命的建筑最能展现可以繁衍的类型——前提是建筑一旦被遗忘或抛弃，就即刻拆除。

笔者还难以触及音乐与建筑在经济条件上的差别。这种差别很深。要从总体上改变建筑——加速它的进化、专业化、精细化，以及对人的努力和关注的回报——我们必须改变它运行的经济条件。这就意味着改变标准的“建筑师——业主”的雇佣制；这就意味着改变建筑的资金、房地产关系、施工方法、市场营销，甚至是建筑的“分布”——或是我们对此的概念。建筑在能被体验的地方是无处不在的，而不只是在它的地块上。因此，几乎每座建筑都是一种“公共产品”，就像经济学家所说的，可以得到应有的补助。在建筑不属于公共产品的地方，自动化的射频识别（RFID）微支付系统就会针对个人收费。加在一起，只靠这两种方式就能带来艺术的革命，让建筑师赢得永恒的荣誉、而不是一次性的设计费5）。这和音乐一样。

经济就讲到这里。2013年，在编辑出版《18中心：建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑》之前，我正在策划“建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑研讨会”以及奥斯汀（“世界现场音乐之都”）的系列演出。那时我常被问到为什么不把整个活动命名为“声音与空间”（或“空间中的声音·声音中的空间”）。“显然，”人们说，“‘声音与空间’具有更多可能性。”当然这是更现代的概念，也会吸引更多的人。就在那时，我开始看到将建筑与音乐进行比较的价值和局限，这种比较太抽象了。音乐不只是声音——而是比声音更有趣。同样的，建筑也不只是房子——而是比房子更有趣。这就是我的信念，也是我要探索的：在今天，将音乐与建筑这两种直观上相关的艺术进行比较，想象它们的相似性，以及还有什么“更多”的价值。所以，2010年9月美国建筑与设计中心发布了两个活动：一是征集论文，以新的视角观察建筑与音乐的古老关系，而不转移到“空间”与“声音”的讨论上（或至少意识到其中的差异以及更高的追求）；二是同时发起建筑师与两类作曲家的现场合作：（1）为呼应室内或室外、现状或改造的特定建成环境，或在其中进行现场演出谱写的音乐（这一类叫“建筑中的音乐”）；（2）“利用”建筑谱写的音乐，即把建筑作为某种意义上的乐谱，或相反地，用听到的或演奏的音乐、音乐理论或乐谱创作的建筑。这第二类叫做“音乐中的建筑”，其理念在于音乐蕴含或隐含于某种建筑作品或建筑体验中，反之亦然：建筑内在于某种音乐作品中，在我们聆听时形成于脑海中。所以，研讨会和专著的标题有点复杂且带有阴阳意味——《18中心：建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑》。论文以通常的形式出版；现场合作分别在德州大学奥斯汀分校的6个场地（由组织者选出）上进行演出。

这两个活动从世界各地收集到了80多个方案。由6个评委组成的评委会选出19篇论文进行演讲和发表，8场合作进行布场和现场演出6）。此外还委托了3个项目：作曲家和表演家埃伦·富尔曼的《彼端之画》，由她本人用长弦乐器根据其比例在建筑与规划图书馆的巴特尔厅（由卡斯·吉尔伯特设计）阅览室中布场后演出；作曲家保罗·德雷舍和建筑师迈克尔·贝内迪克特（与建筑师迈克尔·罗通迪和科尔曼·科克尔合作）为南希·李与佩里·巴斯的音乐厅舞台创作的《低、近、广》；“线上线”打击乐和米汉/珀金斯二重唱以及蒂莫西·布里奥尼斯设置了6个扩展鼓组，以便在戈德史密斯厅的哈尔与伊登箱庭院（由保罗·克雷设计）演奏伊阿尼斯·泽纳基斯的杰作Persephassa（1969）。它们都在德州大学奥斯汀分校里上演7）。

所有演讲和演出都在2011年10月19-22日的“建筑中的音乐·音乐中的建筑研讨会”中进行8）。不少参与者也出现在本期《世界建筑》杂志中。

敬请欣赏！□

注释：

1）根据《大英百科全书》，歌德事实上抄袭了谢林于1805年（比其早25年）出版的《艺术哲学》。谢林写道，建筑“是空间中的音乐，就仿佛凝固的音乐”。显然谢林引用了他妻子索菲的话。

2）这是一个很长的名单，读者可以在iTunes上或用Google查询。与约翰·亚当斯的访谈值得一听，其背景可见这篇文章http://www.npr.org/player/ embed/450560466/455432749。在“替代摇滚”的世界可以加上接受传统训练的埃米·纽伯格和沙拉·沃登（比如，《我最闪亮的钻石》）以及劳里·安德森。

3）乔治·米勒的《交配思维》以及丹尼斯·达顿的《艺术与进化》在这一点上颇具说服力。

4）有人认为，世界上大多数商业流行音乐并不比建成的商业建筑好。二者都充斥着陈旧的手法，对平庸的法式、唯利是图的海量复制。只需听听收音机就会明白。我要说：有道理。但截然不同的地方在于：人可以不听平庸的流行音乐，但不得不看平庸的建筑和乏味的景观。收音机和耳机很容易关掉，或选择其他的。要从单方面选择住在优美的建筑中或在它的周围要困难、而且昂贵得多。我还要说（但不指望所有人接受，所以很难量化），从总体上看大多数流行音乐——从音乐创作到录制——通过收音机体现的创作价值超过了（建成的）普通建筑的设计和施工所体现的创作价值。

5）关于建筑重新形成价值并重新进入市场的方式，参见“建筑的价值”http://mbenedikt.com/coda.pdf（未发表稿，2003）。

6）6位评委是：建筑学院的迈克尔·贝内迪克特、卡尔·马修斯和达内尔·布里斯科教授；巴特勒音乐学院的叶夫根尼·沙拉特、格伦·钱德勒和爱德华·皮尔索尔教授；以及奥斯汀新音乐合作社主任、作曲家特拉维斯·韦勒。

7）《彼端之画》也由新音乐合作社音乐家的一个四重唱组合在特拉维斯·韦勒的指挥下演出。《低、近、广》由12位音乐家组合在音乐导演斯科特·汉娜的指挥下演出。所有演出的人员表在http:// soa.utexas.edu/files/caad/MIA-AIM_Performance_ Program.pdf。

8）获取活动的概述，包括视频以及上述演出及其他，请访问http://soa.utexas.edu/caad/mia-aim了解这部专著的更多信息，请访问http://soa.utexas.edu/ publications/center-18-music-architecture%E2%80%9 4architecture-music。

Certain parallels between music and architecture leap out: both are cultural expressions that exceed minima having to do with survival; both can be categorized into genres from folk to avant-garde, as well as into stylistic time periods; both have palettes （one of sounds or "sonic materials", and one of physical materials）; and both manifest regular, repeating structures （rhythms, sequences, phrases, modules, and so forth）. Additionally, both depend extraordinarily on talented and energetic individuals-composer and designer virtuosos-who show the way, first by emulating earlier virtuosos and then by branching off. And finally, architecture and music must ultimately be performed in the real world: played, built, listened to, and lived in. Musical scores and architectural drawings are indicative, but not enough.

The differences between music and architecture are equally obvious, however, which means that writers who would address music and architecture together must offer something deeper, something edgier and more useful than the lists of parallels-parallels whose existence might say more about the permissiveness of metaphorical language than about either art.

The ancient Babylonians drew parallels between architecture and music, as did the ancient Greeks when Pythagoras learned （from the Babylonians, apparently） about the correspondence of the physical length of a taut string to its tonal pitch when plucked, as well as the correspondence of dimensional ratios of string lengths to tonal harmonies. （The same applies to struck bars, as with a xylophones or thumb harps, and to wind instruments like pan pipes.） This correspondence was to them anything but metaphorical. To the Babylonians and Greeks it seemed to be a discovery about reality itself, guaranteeing a route from objective geometry and the play of numbers to the immediate and intuitive perception of beauty. By the first century, CE, Vitruvius could opine that all architects should study music "in order to have grasp of canonical and mathematical relations."[1]（As far as I know, he did not advocate that composers should study architecture.） In 1835, Goethe's characterization of architecture as "frozen music" took a more romantic turn. It pointed not only to both arts' formal/mathematical underpinnings but also to their appeal to emotions1）. This dual nature mapped roughly onto social class in both cases: the higher classes "knew the math" and felt the finer sentiments; the lower classes knew no math and so felt only the rougher sentiments.

Some things never change.

Certainly, modern music and modern architecture were more interested in their own formal and material possibilities-in their "math"-than in appealing to ordinary people's affections and emotions. （Of course, if the latter was achieved as a by-product, that was fi ne.） Preoccupation with its own media and methods became the mark of progressive modernity. At its avant-garde edges, comments from the bourgoisie like "yes, but is it music？" "yes, but is it painting？" "yes, but is it architecture？" became badges of honor. And so, to a greater extent, it remains today. With "parametric architecture" as with "serious music" through the mid-twentieth century-abstract, heady, hungry for new perceptual e ff ects, and spurning popularity as a motive-the notion that the proper material of composers is sound, and the proper material of architects is space, has yet to lose its appeal to many.

Alas, all of the arts but architecture have moved on. Even serious music has moved on （not that there aren't composers who see still themselves as "sound artists"）. Moved on to what？ To an interest in political, relational, figurative, historical, and emotional realities, to an interest in roughness, human performance and craft, and pre-modern art whose meaningful units were never the simple units of physics （space, time, mass, motion, vibration, etc.） or solipsistic phenomenology （what I see and hear, raw, alone, moment to moment）. To hear examples of what I mean in the world of twentyfirst-century, classical music （sometimes called New Music）, one might listen to composers such as John Adams, Michael Torke, Conlon Nancarrow, Paul Dresher, Fernando Otero, Anna Clyne, Eric Whitacre, Osvaldo Golijov, Ethan Frederick Greene, and Yevgeniy Sharlat. These are among scores of composers today finding new life in traditional （a）tonalities and forms2）. In the world of "serious architecture" the list is harder to make. Shall we list Wang Shu and Sverre Fenn？ Certainly not SANAA or BIG who are extending modernism's original poles even farther apart: purist minimalism on the one hand, and surreal functionalism on the other. And not the Postmoderns of the seventies and eighties.

What, then, is the message from newer New Music to architecture？ I believe this: that pop is not the only alternative to sleek, now stale, "experimental" modernism. Extreme cantilevers, walls of glass, techno-fetishism, the constant "blurring of the boundary between inside and out" （as though this were a self-evident good and a major achievement）and/or pushing buildings into the ground, hiding under carpets as though embarrassed to exist, are clichés now, disconnected from life. The irony is that every architect doing these things wishes he or she lived （though well-off, of course） in nineteenthcentury Paris or an old country villa, lightly re-done.

Luckily, both music and architecture evolve, if at different speeds. Evolution consists of two processes: reproduction-with-variation, and selection. "Reproduction" means copying older works, "with variation", means doing so imperfectly （for any number of reasons, including intentionally）. "Selection" means the application of judgment to descendants so that some do not get to reproduce again, either because they die （or are destroyed, or are ignored） before they get the chance, or because they are too complex, require too much, narrowlycorrect "paperwork" to get it on or get completed. Art forms, styles, genres, and ideas are all subject to this two- step process, even though humans are the agents that select them and "reproduction" is more like copying. The more successful art forms, styles, genres, and ideas, anyway, multiply and proliferate （indeed proliferation is the very definition of "success" in biological terms）, while the less successful ones do not, or thrive only in small numbers in special, limited environments, or niches. The world of serious music and the world ofserious architecture （such as appears in magazines like this） are just two such niches. Here, as with animals in ecological niches, health （enhanced chance of survival） and sexiness （enhanced chance of reproduction） are everything3）. What succeeds in architecture, then, as in music, is （a） what survives in some techno-economic niche, and （b） what is thought reproducible （"we can make buildings like this" "we can make music like this, and people will want more of it"）, and is.

Now, over many generations of evolution there is a general trend to individual or genre complexity, including specialization （in culture） and speciation （in biology）. The trend is driven by reproductive success itself. The more crowded the field, after all, the harder it is to beat the competition. Attention to detail, intensity of e ff ort, better social organization, luck, and individual creativity start to count for more and more until a new technology or ideology （or DNA trick） comes along that suddenly makes survival and/or reproduction easier to secure for both the art and for actual people. Reset！And the game begins again. This happened in architecture around 1920 with the introduction of reinforced concrete frame construction and curtain wall （faster, cheaper）, aided by the subtletystripping ideology of functionalism. Goodbye ine ffi cient and fussy neoclassicism！ Goodbye alleys and sidewalks.

In music around the 1950s, rock and roll （with electrified amplification） made years of musical training and education unnecessary. Any four teenagers could have a band, and the fi ve-thousandyear-old business of music-aided-socialization entered a new era. With records, radio, and "hifi", music entered the home as never before. With digital music synthesis, iTunes, and earbuds, a whole new regime of music availability, curating, and consumption has emerged. As technologies permeated and the low-hanging fruit was consumed, competition returned and evolution continued. Today, top performers of every musical genre, from ambient to zydeco, must master musical, production, and business complexities unknown fi fty years ago.

What happened to architecture over roughly the same time period？ Did it improve/develop/evolve？Did it branch into hundreds of genres, each requiring specialized skill to produce and connoisseurship to select, linked organically to past modes？ Yes, but not as much. Computers notwithstanding, what proliferated instead can be seen world over: gigantic, anonymous, rapidly-erected, pragmatic blocks of whatever-hotels, apartment buildings, warehouses, offices-set among gritty freeways, all looking the same: architectural Muzak, schlock, or junkspace, as Rem Koolhaas calls it, driven by a handful of tiring architectural ideas.

Why？ Do architects not compete for wellendowed clients？ Do buildings not compete for buyers, renters, and photographers？ And if so, why has their artistry not radically increasedevolved-as music's has, and movies, cars, cameras, and computers have too？ Here is the main reason: pieces of music that fail to entertain or engage or satisfy quickly disappear, without residue or blemish or taking up space. Buildings do not. The rate at which buildings are replaced is a fraction of the rate at which they are built from scratch. As a result, mediocre and bad buildings persist. To be sure, their power to command rent diminishes, and their occupancy rates go down. They stop being maintained （which accelerates their decline）; they are even abandoned, but they are not quickly removed and replaced. Rather, their landscapes are allowed to go to seed, and economic and psychological depression is allowed to set in for blocks around. These buildings need only make enough money to survive…and still they are replicated. Why？ In part because people have such low expectations of them in the first place, which in turn perpetuates the problem: selective pressure is all but absent. By contrast, old and bad music is quickly replaced by newer and better music. Or not performed at all. As a result, musical invention is constant, genres proliferate, and connoisseurship thrives4）.

To stimulate anything like music's dynamism in architecture would require simulating music's economic ecology. This happens, most closely in the case of architecture at World Expositions and the Olympic Games. Here, expensive, creative, shortlived, and competitively commissioned "moon shot" buildings come closest to demonstrating what kinds of architectures would proliferate if buildings were as frequently removed as they are forgiven for not working.

I have hardly scratched the surface of how the economic conditions of music and the economic conditions of architecture differ. These differences run deep. To change architecture in general-to speed its evolution, specialization, elaboration, and capacity to reward human e ff ort and attention-we must change the economic conditions under which it operates. That means changing standard architectowner contracts; it means changing architecture's finance, real estate connection, construction methods, marketing, and even, in a sense, architecture's "distribution"-or our concept of it. A building is everywhere it can be experienced from, after all, and not just on its plot. As a result, almost every building is a "public good," as economists like to say, and could be subsidized to the extent that it is. And where buildings are not public goods, automated RFID micropayment systems could allow admission to be individually charged. Taken together, these two arrangements alone would revolutionize the art, as would architects being paid royalties in perpetuity rather than one-time fees5）. Rather like music.

Enough about economics. While editing the book CENTER 18: Music in Architecture· Architecture in Music in 2013 and, before that, while planning the Music in Architecture · Architecture in Music Symposium and performance series in Austin （the "live music capital of the world"）, I was often asked why we did not name the whole a ff air Sound and Space （or Sound in Space？ Space in Sound）."Surely", people said, "‘sound and space' left more possibilities open." Surely it was the more modern conception, and would get more people involved. It was then that I began to see the value, but also the limitations, of comparisons of architecture to music that were too abstract. Music is more than sound—more, even, than interesting sound. In just the same way, architecture is more than buildingmore, even, than interesting building. This was my conviction, and this was the quest: to explore what that "more" was today by imagining that it was the same, or at least comparable, for the intuitivelyrelated arts of music and architecture.

So two calls went out in September of 2010 from the Center for American Architecture and Design: a call for papers that would take a new look at architecture's age-old relationship to music without devolving to discussions "space" and "sound" （or at least aware of the difference and desirous of the higher）, and simultaneously, a call for live collaborations between architects and composers in two categories: （1） music composed for live performance in, and in response to, specific built environments, indoors or out-, found or adjusted （this category was called Music in Architecture）, and （2）music composed "from" architecture, i.e. from using architecture as a score in some way, or conversely, architectural designs derived from music heard, music played, music theory, or musical scores. This second category was called Architecture in Music, on the notion that music was somehow buried or encoded in certain kinds or works of architecture or architectural experience, and vice versa: that architecture was inherent in certain kinds and pieces of music, conjured up in our minds as we listened. Hence the somewhat dizzying, yin-yang title of the symposium and the book: CENTER 18: Music In Architecture· Architecture In Music. Papers were presented and published in the usual way; collaborations were installed and performed in real time at one of six sites （chosen by the organizers） on The University of Texas at Austin's campus.

Both calls received over eighty proposals each from around the world. A jury of six judges asked nineteen papers to go forward to presentation and publication, and eight collaborations to go forward to realization in installation and live performance6）. In addition, three works were commissioned: Tracings by composer and performer Ellen Fullman, performed by her on The Long String Instrument, which was installed in the reading room of the Architecture and Planning Library in Battle Hall （designed by Cass Gilbert） and based on its proportions; Low, Close, Vast, by composer Paul Dresher and architect Michael Benedikt （with the collaboration of architects Michael Rotondi and Coleman Coker） for the stage of the Nancy Lee and Perry R. Bass Concert Hall; and a performance, by line upon line percussion and the Meehan/Perkins Duo with Timothy Briones, of Iannis Xenakis's masterpiece, Persephassa （1969） for six expanded drum sets, in the Hal and Eden Box Courtyard of Goldsmith Hall （designed by Paul Cret）, all on The University of Texas at Austin campus7）.

All presentations and performances were given from October 19-22, 2011 at the Music in Architecture · Architecture in Music Symposium8）. Several of the contributors also contributed to this issue of World Architecture Magazine.

Enjoy.□

Notes:

1） According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, Goethe was in fact appropriating Friedrich von Schelling, in Philosophie der Kunst published in 1805, i.e., twentyfive years earlier. Architecture, wrote Schelling, "is music in space, as it were, frozen music." Apparently, too, Schelling was quoting his wife, Sophie.

2） This is a long list, which the reader can investigate on iTunes, or with Google. This interview with John Adams is worth listening to in the context of this article: http:// www.npr.org/player/embed/450560466/455432749. Closer to the "alternative rock" world one can add classically trained Amy X. Neuberg and Shara Worden （as My Brightest Diamond） and of course, Laurie Anderson.

3） George Miller's The Mating Mind as well as Dennis Dutton's Art and Evolution are convincing on this point.

4） Some would argue that most of the commercial pop music produced in the world is no better than the bulk of commercial architecture built. Cliches abound in both, the cynical reproduction of banal formulas, in oceanic quantities. Just listen to the radio. I would say: you have a point. But here is the critical di ff erence: you don't have to listen to banal pop music the way you have to live among banal and buildings and neglected landscapes. Radios and headsets can be turned o ff easily, or selected amongst. It is much harder, and far more expensive, to select-to choose-unilaterally to live in and around fi ne architecture. I would also opine （but not expect everyone to agree, so hard is it to quantify） that in general the production values-from musicianship to recording-of most pop music that makes it to the radio exceeds the production values brought to the design and construction of quotidian buildings （that get built）.

5） For more on the ways architecture could re-value and re-market itself see "The Value of Architecture", at http://mbenedikt.com/coda.pdf （unpublished manuscript, 2003）.

6） The six judges were: Professors Michael Benedikt, Carl Matthews, and Danelle Briscoe of the School of Architecture, Professors Yevgeniy Sharlat, Glenn Chandler, and Edward Pearsall of the Butler School of Music, and Travis Weller, composer, and Director of the New Music Co-op in Austin.

7） Tracings was also performed by a quartet of New Music Co-op musicians with, and under the direction of, Travis Weller. Low, Close, Vast was performed by an ensemble of twelve musicians under the direction of Music Director Scott Hanna. Full personnel and credits for all performances can be found at http://soa.utexas. edu/ fi les/caad/MIA-AIM_Performance_Program.pdf. 8） You can get an overview of the events, including videos of the above and the many other performances, by visiting http://soa.utexas.edu/caad/mia-aim. More about the book can be found at http://soa.utexas.edu/ publications/center-18-music-architecture%E2%80%9 4architecture-music

参考文献/Reference:

[1] Vitruvius. Ten Books on Architecture. Ingrid, D. Rowland, and Thomas, Noble Howe, trans.. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

收稿日期：2015-12-18

作者简介：德州大学奥斯汀分校建筑学院联合会（ACSA）特聘建筑学教授，哈尔·博克斯（Hal Box）城市研究主席