I pose the question “how is public knowledge produced?” Within the field of architecture, I have found that knowledge, appreciation, and continued support of the design practice is a function of writing for the public; the development of our cities as habitable spaces is produced through criticality—“If there’s bad art, burn it down,” as Dave Hickey says. But what seems to be sorely lacking is a conversation about emotion—feelings that are entwined in how we experience cities, the politics of how stuff is made and built and fed to us. It’s a crucial component of public knowledge often cut from word counts.

I speak about music and lyrical writing as a form of building public knowledge: To understand the world lyrically is to create space for clarity, for experimentation and play; in which knowledge, form, and confidence can be altered. To look at writing through the lens of the lyric, and to sing what one knows, these methodologies are at the core of producing a public that does more than “know" information about the built environment. Instead, knowledge about the built environment can become embodied, rooted in placefulness, and acknowledged as intrinsic to our communities.