There’s a quote I heard in Architecture school that’s stuck with me for all these years after I left.
Architecture is the trellis on which the plant of life grows.
I wish I knew who said it first, but for the life of me, I can’t find the source anywhere. For some reason, I think it was Mies van der Rohe, but I’m likely entirely wrong. That idea, though, has always resonated with me. The sense that the work itself is not what’s beautiful, but what it supports. Life is beauty, not the objects or materials in it. But those objects and materials are necessary for life to thrive and grow.
Life, with all of its twists and turns, roots, stems, shoots, leaves, thorns, blossoms, fruit, all of the colors, all of the intricacies and delicacies, life needs STRUCTURE. Life needs stability, something to hold onto, something to support it as it meanders and winds around, striving and reaching for the light. Without structure, life crumples into a heap. It can still wander about on the ground, but it doesn’t get very far.
But, structure is rigid, it is hard, unyielding. Structure is straight lines and right angles, grids and restrictions. Structure is strong and absolute. Structure is cold, structure needs LIFE to give it purpose and meaning. Without life, it is pointless.
There is a symbiosis that exists between these two. They need each other, the qualities of the other that they do not possess themselves. They are one of creation’s many “opposites attract” pairings. And it’s this relationship that Ivy & Iron is about.
In many ways, we see this as one of the images of our relationship with each other as a married couple. One of the personalities is stable but cold, the other vivacious but volatile. And while both of us have absolute value as human beings on our own, we find so much beauty in the relationship we have with each other, a unique pairing that brings out the best in both of us. We are Ivy & Iron.