Architecture has always begun with drawing. Music, as we know, begins with a score. In this manner, both architecture and music have completed a work.
Architectural drawings and musical scores live a life of perfect solitude even if in a drawer or an attic. Their future is yet to come.
Strangely enough, people cannot conceive of architecture or music without a physical performance.
One can build a building, and yet wind up without any architecture. One can make architecture in a drawing, yet never get to build. A composer may write a score, which may never be performed, but its lack of being performed does not disqualify it as a piece of music.
Herein lies the paradox of unbuilt and unperformed works.
They live their own existence, oblivious to time. The power of a drawing and its creative force does not lie merely in its use as a tool for practical purposes. It lies in the beholder’s imagination.
A drawing might lodge itself in the mind and build itself to great heights within it. Beethoven composed his last works without physically hearing them played. He heard them in his mind; in his being.
So, too, architecture. […]