I am often reminded of the experience of eating, and choosing the day’s specials, at restaurants around the world (Michelin starred or not). The inventiveness, the perfectly cooked subtle and innovative flavors, and the beautifully presented dishes are part of showing off the chef’s skill.

Excellence is de rigueur and should be expected. Yet, to repeat without failure traditional and staple foods (i.e., steak frites, well-cooked fish or tasty pasta), day after day, seating after seating, is how you know that you are at a place that values cooking and not simply catering to the discriminating palettes or pocket books of its patrons. Ironically, my greatest disappointment with the choice of a special was not with the quality, but once, with the out of the norm price at a favorite neighborhood bistro (a fall dish consisting of venison with spaetzli, brussels sprouts and roasted chestnuts at double the cost of any other entrée).

As a professor of architecture, to launch a blog based on the metaphor of the above dining experiences may seem farfetched, but my interest in writing about simple and seemingly straightforward topics is a way to rethink fundamentals in a clear and succinct manner. This may seem in opposition to exploring “specials” that seek an immediate WOW effect. I will not deny that the latter are important, but for students, especially architecture students, it is imperative to contextualize what is essential from what is exceptional, to redefine tradition rather than simply celebrate innovation.

I also see my blog as an invitation to find the exceptional within the mundane, or better described, to explore fundamental and straightforward topics in art, architecture, food, travel and urbanism (the five categories of my blog). I like the quote by French painter Amédée Ozenfant (1886 – 1966): “Art is the demonstration that the ordinary is extraordinary.”

All this effort is to propose possible pedagogical strategies outside of the classroom context in order to extend students’ academic experiences. As the number of blog entries increase, I find much delight in the interconnectivity that is created between posts. Not solely to convey ideas that I have found to be constants in my teaching, but to further research activities as important background to my arguments. Selfishly, I have found that this new digital output has extended targeted learning opportunities, allowing me to see the world differently, thus the pleasure of conveying my ideas through a medium other than space making, namely seeing “the profit [pleasure] of writing was in the very act of writing.”[1] Perhaps one day, these short essays will find their way into a larger collection.

Finally, while students are at the forefront of most content in the blog—yes, architecture students should also find delight in cooking—I have an increased interest in sharing ideas with neophytes, to all those who do not have an architectural background. The purpose is dual. To allow a larger and anonymous public to understand that seeing, looking and observing are part of our ability to understand and to belong to today’s world. Second, as we in academia pride ourselves in ushering in talent with high professional aspirations and design ingenuity, I have always wondered how to introduce students to future Medicis, the patrons who will allow them to interpret their dreams, thus contributing to a better environment that is more sustainable, more humane, and above all, richer in meaning.

These blogs are dedicated to those anonymous readers with the humble ambition that they can pause in their day, and find pleasure in the mundane.

[1] Giacobone, Nicolás, The Crossed-out notebook, a Novel, New York: Scribner, 2018,p.79
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