Volume III, The Oregon Experiment, is the slimmest of the books and describes Alexander's vision for a process by which the University of Oregon at Eugene could avoid haphazard, ill-planned and out-of-scale "growth." These books have been out for several years now and they have been extensively reviewed. But what is in the books is theory-at the U of O in Eugene, people have been attempting to put the theory into practice. Several projects have gone forward, despite problems, and their success is visible. To the campus planners, the experiment has been "proven" now, for some time. In the early '70s the university's planning staff became dissatisfied with their "Master Plan." Typically, it was a set of maps that showed existing buildings and then a future "planned" campus that would consist of an orderly "whole"-large, new structures built according to the standard cast concrete and glass formula with little or no consideration for the land, the community, the users of the building, or the relationships between them. The U:niversity made known its desires for a new "plan" and Alexander was chosen, from a competing group.of design consultants, to,help formulate one that woul~ respond to expressed needs and that would create a cooperative way of meeting those needs. Language is the key he uses to open up the process of design. Alexander's particular language depends on differentiating between two kinds of order. "Totalitarian" order (the bad kind) is a whole that exists only on paper or in the minds of'the planners-it is a simplified answer to bureaucratically defined problems such as "statistical ne{ld," "projected growth," and "available funds." The other kind of order is "organic" (the good kind). Organic order is like-a shell that grows in increments, in proportion, and according to the shape of preceding sections. And like a shell, growth does not go on forever. The school has·created channels so that faculty, students and community members can become involved, but these integrated "committees" inevitably find their creativity and efficacy hampered, not only by a bureaucratic, "big is better" funding process but also by the split structure of the "community." Universities, however, are towns; they have economies, they have a politically organized, diverse population (consider the supporting staff and maintenance crew; the college town that depends on college dollars; and the increasing number of older people who are going back to school part-time). Such places offer a broadly supported, well funded and uni- . versally recognized opportunity to grow truly organic communities, but ~. ----- ~~--- . . --1· • ulll~II r1 Aug. /Sept. 1980 RAIN Page ·the effort_will require not onlfa renewed interest on the part of "apathetic" students, but also new spaces for "learning," that won't separate it from "real world" activities. It will also require a change in our concept of "school" as a camp in which youth are trained for entry into "_useful" society. As is true of most residential universities and colleges, the university population is fragmented into a transient student body and the more permanent faculty and administration. Students don't normally put too much emphasis on "making where they live a paradise" since they are only'there for four years and since they also have to pay to·be there. You pay, you expect to be served; that's the way that the "free" market works, right? The architecture student I talked to noted a trend that has ·received lots of attention lately, in the media and in educational institutions themselves: students seem to be more concerned with getting saleable skills and a marketable degree than they are with the qua_lities of a living and learning community. Students who "get involved" often become frustrated and "burn out," as this one did, when they see their work in the community conflicting with the "education" they are paying for. Burn out fosters cynicism. "Involved" students find that their "interests," as defined by narro~-minded curriculums and credit requirements, are at odds wfth the interests ofthe faculty arid administration, who have longer-term concerns at stak~, who are paid for their ·community efforts and who }lave the continuing support of their peers in working towards a well-defined set of goals. Within the student body itself, another division occurs-student "representatives" and the stu- •dents they represent find that concerns of "community" and concerns of credit requirements rarely coincide on a day-to-day basis. The planning committees continue to work despite various hindrances and have, in spots, succeeded admirably. The new addition to the School of Education is the best e_xample of the whole process of diagnosis, pmblem solving, coordination and construction. That the building is satisfying, and that it works, both inside and outside, is not due to the control and "vision" of an artistic "genius." In fact, the architect for the School . of Education yielded his own professional vision to a method that allowed the "user" group to work with the "designers." They created not only a beautiful (and passively heated and cooled) building, but also a charming courtyard and a pleasantly warm atmosphere to work in. Individuals are very important. This architect was important because of his own long experience in "us1er-initiated design." The concept itself, as I learnea: does not originate with Alexander's books. However, Alexander's work with language, and the effort to put it into practice at Eugene, are significant steps in a broader effort to nurture the quaJities that could make an "organic" civilization out of "totalitarian" societies. -KO •
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