Stephen Gerard Dietemann Design

Cognitive dissonance theory holds – as noted by L. Festinger – that, “there is a tendency for individuals to seek consistency among their cognitions (i.e., beliefs, opinions). Where there is an inconsistency between attitudes or behaviors (dissonance), something must change to eliminate the dissonance. In the case of a discrepancy between attitudes and behavior, it is most likely that the attitude will change to accommodate the behavior.”

I don’t know about you, but I recognize a valid concept when I hear it. This theory is a recognition of the human condition since attitudes and behaviors are often in conflict. You know you should be thrifty and save for the proverbial rainy day but the first payment on that new car/boat/house/sofa – you fill in here – is coming due anyway. “Hey, it’s only money…” just might be the most popular “attitude” in the United States today.

Not surprisingly the theory, slightly modified, holds up wonderfully in the world of architecture, both in and out of the Berkshires. Call it the theory of “visual dissonance” and these days visual dissonance rules. Route 7 north of the river in Great Barrington is a wonderful case in point; as I have noted often in the past it offers a rich amalgam of disparate materials, styles, ages and intentions. Fast food temples abut just constructed nineteenth century New England boutiques, all floating on a shimmering sea of asphalt. Still, as noteworthy an example of my theory as this stretch of road is, my very favorite example is located just outside the Berkshires, in Albany, New York. There, the timeless question, “Why do they call that restaurant a French restaurant anyway?” is presented for our analysis.

The setting: a restaurant whose name suggests a French pedigree is located within a suburban expanse of closely packed private homes, low-rise apartments and numerous “medical arts” buildings. The restaurant abuts the backside of a single-story shopping mall. Moving closer, you see that while the restaurant is set at a slightly higher elevation than the mall, the mall’s large dumpster is a mere stone’s throw from the restaurant. A loose ring of shrubs and trees surround the restaurant, but hardly shield (visually or otherwise) the restaurant from the mall, the dumpster or the wash of typical American urban suburb.

By even the loosest of criteria, this restaurant is less French than its name suggests. Certainly no “prix fixe” or “pate”, but I am not really concerned with the food or the pricing on the menu. What interests me is the fact that this place views itself -- and is popularly viewed – as representative of the “European” experience. A friend of mine who eats there admitted – when pressed on the subject -- that he, “liked the European feel” of the place.

He has never been to Europe, knows little about France and less about its cuisine. That is not said to ridicule him or the restaurant. Rather it is to demonstrate the remarkable degree of disconnection from an authentic experience that we are increasingly capable of accepting. To paraphrase Lloyd Bensen: “I’ve been to many restaurants in France. French restaurants are friends of mine and that restaurant is no French restaurant.” That means food and “dining experience”; for those of you who have not been to the old country, watch or read “A Year in Provence” by Peter Mayle. Now that’s the French dining experience. An experience that combines history, architecture, culture and location to create an authentic moment. For its part, the architecture of the many restaurants shown in the video blend seamlessly with the dining experience each houses.

At some not-too-deep level I think we are uncomfortably aware of the dissonance, aware that we are being had and fooling ourselves at the same time. We are left increasingly with the distinct feeling that the entire country is becoming some sort of “tourist trap”. We are passing through but never truly participating, never truly belonging because there is increasingly nothing there to belong to, nothing solid to hold onto. Sadly, I am forced to observe that we should not expect less “dissonance”. We like our illusions; it seems clear to me that our, “attitude will change to accommodate the behavior.”

I have seen the future on this one. For anyone uncomfortable with visual dissonance and the illusion of authenticity – particularly as regards the architectural setting of our lives -- my advice is to fasten your seat belt tightly.