So I last night I had some bizarre dreams. I am sure the two and a half rounds of beer from dinner had something to do with it. I was in a marching band. Actually I am not sure what I was doing. There was a marching band. I was not in it. There was a dance crew for the band. It was the sort of thing you see at half time during a college football game, lots of girls in tight spandex numbers running around in a somewhat organized manner. But there was also a real dance team to go with the band. This group was more like what you would see on Broadway. Everyone looked like they belonged in “The Entertainer,” or “West Side Story.” There was lots of practicing during this dream. (Side note, our pregnant waitress at Chilis from the night before gave birth at a nearby hospital in the dream as well.) Of course, I did not practice. I do not play a band instrument, or dance. Really, I have no clue why I was there. But in the end, I was glad I was able to be there to see everything come together. Shortly before the alarm went off, all three groups came together to perform simultaneously. It was amazing. It was all real, no special “dream effects”. What got me about the whole thing was how out of the box it was. The dancing, the music, etc.. were so creative. So, when I finally woke up I had this burning question: Where does it all come from?
I am not talking about dreams. I have no clue where they come from. That would be an entirely different article. What I want to know about is creativity. I am an intern architect. I am supposed to be creative all the time. We spend five years in school doing bizarre and amazing things. But I still do not understand where it all comes from.
In school, my process for design was about logic. Sounds boring, but it can produce some neat stuff. The reason for the logic had to do with how architecture school operates. At the end of each project, you have to present everything out in the hall to guest critics, the professors, fellow students, and anyone who happens to be standing there. If you get up there and tell everyone you think your design “looks cool” you are not going to do so well in the grade department. The critics were looking for reasons and explanations for all your design choices. Sure the plans had to function properly (but not always.) It would also be nice if your design would keep out the rain and stand up against gravity, but not always. In fact, gravity did not happen for us until the second year of school. Adding gravity to our designs sucked!! When you stood up in front of everyone and explained your design, you had to have reasoning for every move you made. You had to be convincing and make a point. Countless times people would present their work and you could see they had just made it all up. Not a good way to design! So, in my work I did nothing without having a plausible explanation. Typically, my reasoning was some irrefutable logic based on science or need or just plain good sense. By the end of my presentations, the critics would have a complete understanding of my building, how it worked, and why it worked. Instead of asking me questions and trying to knock me down, they would just argue amongst themselves about various details and whose theory of whatever was the right one. When you make the judges argue with themselves, rather than with you, you have done something right!
Since this is an article in a car club newsletter, I figure I should eventually talk about cars. No problem! Let’s think about car design. I know how to design a building, but I have never designed a car. What do those guys have to think about when they put pen to paper, or knife to clay? What was Pinninfarina thinking about when he put giant blood troughs on the side of our spiders? What is up with the shoulders on the earlier cars? What is it about Bertone’s GTV that makes it so darn pretty!! Why does the late model SZ/RZ (es30) look so mean?
Being designed by Italians, I doubt any of their ideas were based on logic or reasoning. At least it probably was not any reasoning I would use. But you have to remember, these are Italians! They have more design sense in their little finger than most of us have in our whole bodies. Design is a part of their culture. It is an entire nation of people who really do believe it is better to look good than to actually be good. And you know what the most frustrating part of all this is? It is the fact that I can feel their design, but I cannot explain it. I swoon for my Alfas. I get the tingly butterflies every time I drive an Alfa. And yet, I am almost certain if I ever tried to design a car it would be more like a BMW than an Alfa. My design would be clean, taught, and sterile. Everything would make clear sense. A place for everything, and everything in its place! Alfas are not like that at all!! Nothing makes sense. And yet it is all so perfect! Arggh!
Maybe that is what is so magical about these cars. For me, something is magical only if I can fully explain it, and yet it still remains special. Think about it. Magic is only magic until you know the secrets. As we learn more and more about how stuff works, less and less stuff retains its magic. But if something can stand up to understanding and still keep it’s luster, that is magic!! And Alfas most certainly do!! Everyone has a basic understanding of how an engine works. Most people can grasp the basic physics of how handling works. And we all know how to drive a car! But even then, the Alfa is different! It is almost as if putting an Alfa badge on something is like sprinkling it with pixie dust. You get in, you turn the key, you drive off and attack some curves, and when it is all said and done, you know you have been part of something special.
So where does this creativity come from? What makes these cars so special? Is it just randomness mixed in with some luck and intuition? Are Italians just better at “feeling” what is right about an automobile? I have no clue, but I think I am going to keep driving and working on my Alfas until I figure it out!!
