Architects have made architecture too complex. We need to

Host: The air inside the café felt warm and inviting, the soft hum of conversation blending with the occasional clink of a cup or spoon. The world outside had quieted with the onset of dusk, and the city lights flickered like stars amidst the shadowed streets. Jack and Jeeny sat together, a comfortable silence between them. Jeeny, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup, finally broke the stillness with a quiet thought.

Jeeny: “I came across a quote today by Toyo Ito: ‘Architects have made architecture too complex. We need to simplify it and use a language that everyone can understand.’ Do you think that's true, Jack?”

Jack: He leaned back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. “I get what he’s saying, sure. Architecture is about design, but it’s also about function. The more complex something is, the more it risks losing its purpose. But simplifying it? That’s easier said than done. People expect buildings to be more than just functional. They expect them to be innovative, creative—and that doesn’t always mesh with simplicity.”

Host: Outside, the streetlights flickered in the growing dark, their soft light casting long shadows into the café. The sound of the rain had quieted to a soft drizzle, and the world seemed to breathe with a quiet intensity. Jeeny’s eyes remained fixed on Jack, her voice steady, but there was an edge to it—a quiet challenge.

Jeeny: “But isn’t the essence of architecture supposed to be about people? Architecture isn’t just about impressive structures or mind-bending designs. It’s about creating spaces that make people feel comfortable, inspired, and connected. Complexity may look good on paper, but when it doesn’t speak to everyone, when it’s hard to understand, does it really serve its purpose?”

Jack: He tilted his head, thoughtful, but the skepticism never quite left his voice. “Yeah, sure, but isn’t there room for both? Complexity and simplicity can work together, can’t they? A building can be both functional and artistic. People want to be impressed, and sometimes that takes complexity. If we make everything simple, don’t we risk losing the depth that comes from thinking outside the box?”

Host: The café, warm and quiet, felt like an island in the middle of the city’s rhythm. Jeeny’s eyes softened, but her response was calm and firm, as if she had already reached her own conclusion.

Jeeny: “I think the goal is to find a balance. Complexity in design can be beautiful, but if it doesn’t communicate clearly, if it doesn’t make the user feel at home, then it’s not effective. It’s like a language. You don’t need to use big words to convey a deep thought—you need to speak in a way that resonates, that people can easily understand. Architecture should do the same. It should speak to people without being overbearing.”

Jack: He leaned forward slightly, intrigued but still uncertain. “So, you’re saying buildings should be straightforward, something anyone can walk into and immediately get? No room for artistry or innovation?”

Jeeny: “Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. “Artistry is important. Innovation is important. But it’s about the language of design. If a building is too complicated, too hard to navigate, it becomes more of a maze than a space. What Toyo Ito is saying is that we need to take away the unnecessary complexity and focus on the fundamentals. A building should speak the language of its environment, its purpose, and the people who will use it.”

Host: The quiet between them was palpable, each word hanging in the air like an open door. Jack’s usual resolve was starting to soften, though his voice still carried a hint of resistance.

Jack: “I get what you’re saying now. Maybe simplicity doesn’t mean lack of creativity. Maybe it means clarity. But isn’t there something lost when we take away the layers, the intricate designs that make a building stand out?”

Jeeny: “I don’t think simplicity means sacrificing creativity. I think it means that creativity can exist within simplicity. When you strip away the unnecessary, you’re left with the essence—the most important parts of the design. And those parts can be just as powerful as the most complex structures, without losing their meaning.”

Host: The warmth in the café seemed to increase, the energy between Jack and Jeeny shifting, like a thread weaving through their conversation, bringing their thoughts closer together. Jack sat back, his expression thoughtful, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jack: “I see it now. Maybe it’s not about making everything simple for the sake of simplicity. Maybe it’s about finding that point where function and beauty meet. Where the design isn’t just about showing off, but about creating a space that feels like it’s meant for the people who are going to live in it.”

Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s about purpose. A building should have layers, yes, but those layers should have a reason to exist, a reason that everyone can understand, that resonates with anyone who steps inside. Simplicity doesn’t mean stripping away meaning—it means making sure that every choice you make is for a reason, that it speaks clearly to those who experience it.”

Host: The café, still and warm around them, seemed to have embraced the quiet clarity of their conversation. The city outside continued its rhythm, but inside, there was a sense of understanding between them, a recognition that architecture, like life, is most meaningful when it speaks clearly—when it mixes the bold and the subtle, the intricate and the simple. In the end, it’s not just about creating beauty for beauty’s sake—it’s about creating something that speaks to the people who experience it, that makes them feel like they belong.