As an architectural historian, I like my movements and styles to have clear, or at least plausible, definitions. What has happened to “modernism?” It seems to me that what used to be a well-defined, well-researched schema for building design associated with the Modern Movement in Europe that flourished from the 1920s until well after mid-century, has been debased. Modernism is now something like a seasoning, or a brand. It can be used to give legitimacy to a fashion line, a museum exhibition, or the work of an up and coming architect. It sells books and magazines. It appears in all sorts of ads, especially for things like cars. It gets tacked onto almost every Architectural Record article or critique, except ones that the editors don’t condone. It’s like the fig-leaf on the crotch of a Renaissance satyr, just something to make sure the artist’s work is seen as profound rather than dirty.

The sign that things have gotten out of hand appeared in today’s New York Times section, The New Season. Alexandra Lange got the assignment to survey the exciting things that will be happening this fall in the world of architecture and design. I don’t envy her. She had to put a reasonable spin on the exhibition, “Hippie Modernism: The Struggle for Utopia” opening in October at the Walker Art Museum in Minneapolis. Apparently the famous Drop City in Colorado that we 1960s “hippies” found merely amusing has now acquired a new epithet: modernist. Modernist? Not just weird, or drug-addled, or “pop” or something that the zeitgeist would understand?

Andrew Blauvelt, who clearly doesn’t understand the 1960s, but who has gotten the nod to take the reins at Cranbrook, ought to have his head examined, perhaps by someone like Paul Goodman. He apparently thinks that “hippie artists” were designing “modernist utopias” while riding around in the bus with Ken Keasey. I don’t remember it that way. But, hey, I thought “Deconstructivist Architecture” was nutty. Perhaps the Walker won’t regret hiring Mr. Blauvelt because ticket sales will soar in October. But don’t tell a scholar that Buckminster Fuller and Gordon Bunshaft were hippies, or that desert utopias were invented by the SDS. Paolo Soleri would turn over in his grave.