Doctor’s handwriting

The Catalan woman Maria Branyas, the oldest living person in the world at 116 years old, took advantage of the recent Father’s Day to share on her Twitter account the story of her father, Josep Branyas, who passed away at a young age. At 38, he was diagnosed with a severe lung condition while living in New Orleans, in the United States. The doctor recommended a sea voyage to heal his lungs, so Mr. Branyas decided to sail back to Catalonia. But after a long journey, he died on board just days before reaching his destination.

It was 1915, and it was common for doctors to prescribe such remedies. In the absence of advances like the tuberculosis vaccine, they often recommended fresh air, living by the sea, or in high-altitude areas. It was the era of anti-tuberculosis sanatoriums, with large windows and balconies for patients to recover in the sun. The connection between this disease and modern architecture is undeniable and has been extensively studied by architects like Beatriz Colomina in numerous books and publications.

Architecture and health have always been closely linked. One of the first urban expansions of Barcelona outside the Roman walls, around the 11th century, originated from efforts to escape the plague. Duke Guillem Ramon de Montcada built a series of palaces with spacious, well-ventilated courtyards, which today form the buildings of the Picasso Museum on the street that bears his name.

The Eixample district designed by Cerdà was also built for reasons of health and hygiene. Wider streets and buildings were intended to mitigate the effects of tuberculosis, a lung disease whose cause would be discovered a few years later by Dr. Robert Koch. With these discoveries, doctors began prescribing more vaccines—remedies in the form of injections and medicines. Architecture was no longer urgently needed for health, at least not as visibly.

But then came the 2020 pandemic. Just 100 days of lockdown were enough to realize the importance of our homes’ architecture. This time, it wasn’t about curing illness, but simply providing shelter. For 100 uninterrupted days, they became the stage for our lives.

Architecture and health have always been closely linked.

The environmental quality of the spaces around us directly impacts us. That’s why, on March 14, during TV3’s Planta Baixa program (an aptly named architectural coincidence), Josep Maria Argimon, the former Minister of Health for Catalonia, reflecting on the pandemic and mental health, said: “What I want is to prescribe housing. It’s not just about medicines; we need to approach it holistically. The treatment is housing.”

Few disciplines have a specific law overseeing their quality. The pandemic accelerated the approval of the Quality Architecture Law in June 2022. In its preamble, an essential part for understanding the law’s intent, it states: “The pandemic and the associated lockdown periods have demonstrated the importance of the physical environment around us in fostering health, well-being, and quality of life.”

This is why it is unacceptable that the recent approval of LOSU, the Organic Law of the University System, reduces the contribution of architecture professionals who have long served as professors. Back in 2009, their teaching time was cut by a third, and now they intend to reduce it again by the same amount. Teaching architecture at the university involves an essential component of transmitting the craft—guidance that stems from professional practice experience and is entrusted to adjunct professors. Cutting back on adjunct professors undermines the quality of architecture education.

Interestingly, LOSU makes an exception for professionals teaching certain disciplines: Health Sciences. When it comes to health, professionals can teach as many hours as necessary. It seems those who included this exception haven’t read the preamble or the provisions of the Quality Architecture Law. Architecture is health.

Josep Maria Argimon’s prescription is clear. Rarely has a doctor done so much for architecture.