I studied architecture in New York. So, really I was very moved

Host: The city hums softly outside the window, the distant sound of traffic mingling with the occasional call of birds in the early morning. Jack stands by the window, his eyes scanning the skyline, but his mind clearly elsewhere. The light in the room is soft, casting long shadows as Jeeny sits at the table, flipping through a book. There’s an intensity in the air, the kind that always accompanies deep conversations — an unspoken pull between them, as if a new thought is waiting to emerge.

Jeeny: “Jack, I came across something I thought you might find interesting,” she says, her voice gentle, but with a hint of excitement. “It’s a quote by Daniel Libeskind. He said, ‘I studied architecture in New York. So, really I was very moved, like everyone else, to try to contribute something that has that resonance and profundity of what it means to all of us.’ What do you think about that?”

Jack: He turns, his gaze flicking from the window to her, an eyebrow raised. “Architecture, huh? Sounds like he’s talking about creating meaning. But what does it really mean to contribute something that resonates with people? Does architecture actually do that, or is it just about building structures?”

Jeeny: She tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I think what Libeskind is saying is that architecture isn’t just about making something functional. It’s about creating something that speaks to the soul — something that holds meaning, that resonates with the people who encounter it. What if architecture could tell the story of who we are, and where we are in time?”

Host: The light in the room shifts as Jeeny’s words hang in the air. The sound of the city outside seems to pause for a moment, as if even the world outside is listening. Jack leans back, his arms folded across his chest, as he considers her point. The room is charged with the tension between them, each of them finding a different way into the conversation.

Jack: “Sure, I get the romantic side of it,” he says, his voice edged with skepticism. “But architecture is still about practicality, isn’t it? It’s about space, design, and the materials you use. Sure, there’s meaning behind it, but you can’t just throw a building together and expect it to have this kind of profound resonance. There has to be a purpose — a reason for it beyond just being ‘meaningful.’”

Jeeny: Her expression softens, and she stands to join him by the window. “But don’t you think that the purpose itself can be meaningful? That by creating spaces, by designing places where people can live, work, or just experience the world, we’re shaping the way they feel and move through life? Maybe that’s what Libeskind means when he talks about resonance. That architecture, at its best, becomes something more than just a building. It becomes a part of our story, our identity.”

Host: The city outside seems to come alive again, the lights of passing cars streaking through the darkening sky. Inside, the conversation feels like it’s moving toward a deeper place. Jeeny’s words hang between them, a quiet challenge to see beyond the physical nature of architecture. Jack watches her closely, the flicker of understanding beginning to shine in his eyes, though he still holds onto his own reservations.

Jack: “I guess I see your point. But isn’t it a bit much to expect every building to carry the weight of something so personal? What about the practical side of things? People don’t look at a building and think about its soul when they’re rushing to work or grabbing lunch. They just need a roof over their head.”

Jeeny: “Maybe they don’t always think about it consciously,” she replies, her voice quiet but firm. “But everything we design affects how people feel. The way a space is laid out, the way light flows through it, how it feels to walk through it — it all shapes our experience. Think about the way a beautiful building can make you feel small or awe-inspired. Or the way a well-designed space can bring people together, make them feel at home. Isn’t that where the profound part comes in?”

Host: The rain has slowed now, and the room feels still, as if waiting for the conversation to reach its natural conclusion. Jack and Jeeny stand together, each contemplating what architecture really means, both practically and symbolically. There’s a quiet tension in the air, but also a sense that something is starting to click.

Jack: “Maybe I’m starting to see it. Maybe it’s not just about the function of a building, but about how it fits into a bigger story — how it reflects what we believe, what we value.”

Jeeny: She smiles, a quiet warmth in her eyes. “Exactly. Architecture isn’t just about creating buildings. It’s about creating spaces that have meaning, that connect us to something greater than ourselves. It’s about leaving a mark on the world, just like Libeskind says — contributing something that resonates with people, something that speaks to them.”

Host: The world outside continues its busy hum, but inside, there’s a quiet understanding settling between them. Jack and Jeeny stand together in the half-light, no longer seeing architecture as just about bricks and mortar, but as something more — a reflection of the people who design, build, and experience it. The resonance of those spaces, like the profound impact of a well-told story, leaves its mark on everyone who encounters it.