26 April 2009

Streamlining

An airplane, moving wholly in the air in three dimensions, heads into the air stream. It is propelled by gripping the air with its propeller. The resistance of the air makes its upward motion possible, it climbs upon the air as a car upon the road. Thus, always the air is resisting it; always an air stream flows around and past it. The several streams flowing over and under, by the ides, form what are known as stream lines; they enclose a space of dead air which acts as a drag on the craft. Thus design must be adapted to the easiest flow of these streams with as little obstruction as possible, and the space of dead air they enclose in the wake area must be small.

The field of aerodynamics grew up around the problems posed by the motion of bodies through air. Countless thousands of experiments with models in wind tunnels built a mass of data. Finally, a design was worked out on mathematical bases to overcome superfluous air resistance, and the effort to obtain the perfect design was termed "streamlining."

Students of design studied birds. Then it was assumed that a drop of liquid falling through the air would take a shape of minimal resistance. So, the students studied high shutter speed photographs of falling drops. Hearing of these advances the world became fascinated. It saw aesthetic value in copies of nature. So streamlines were applied to trains, planes, and automobiles, with the promises of returning wonderful results of speed and saving of power...

If streamlines' applications had ended with transportation, however, they would have lost their symbolism and would have remained purely pragmatic. But, in the 1930s, they spread to buildings, houses, furniture, other things which are rarely required to combat air resistance. Putting aside special cases of environmental conditions (e.g. preventing large forces upon or resonant excitement of a structure), a building is inherently static. To sacrifice space, comfort, interior space efficiency, and solidity in order to give the outside look of something in perpetually rapid motion, is likely to engender restlessness in the occupant.

It represents the subjective ideal of speed divorced from utility. Not only can the ideal of speed never be obtained, but it is self-limiting. The ideal of speed which is non-specific has defeated actual speed itself.

Men standing at a bar, "killing" time. Women and children fretting over a game, puzzle, or contest, to kill time. Men and women quarrel when supper is not ready, but then quarrel again later when the evening is so long. They must get a new television to help pass it by. There is more time to kill because the subway, the microwave, and the instant food, all worked so fast. We use our telephones and electronics to get in touch Tom or Jane to talk about nothing. They too will need to kill time. What shall we do tonight, we have an hour to kill? Books, papers, magazines are slow. Even the radio is slow. If we are to do a good job killing time, we must do it fast. We might go out in the car. What is that snail in front of us doing? Now, we've missed the light. A cigarette, please, to keep us from doing nothing. Lighter's broken? Well, time to turn the old bus in, anyway. It's economically sound to turn them in every two years. The new model has an auto drive. There'll be nothing to do with your hands. What, then, shall we do with our hands?

....Roger Burlingame, c1934

0 Spam messages: