Nandita Varma ‘26 is an architecture major. During the fall semester of her sophomore year, Nandita was able to use support from the Nanovic Institute to explore the relationship between sociology and architecture in three European countries.
I honestly never expected to find myself here; what started as a half-formed fever dream has now, as I write this, been realized in full. So, as a tribute to a dream turned reality, let me start from the beginning.
I’m an architecture major – not for the buildings, not for the history and not even for the beauty. I chose the field because it is both the grandest scale of art this world has ever known, and it is a magic lamp, per se, for culture, identity and people.
Early on as I pursued my degree, I realized I had a great personal interest in sociology in architecture; how can architecture be a vessel to hold the very triumphs and failures of a society? This led me to the specific concentration of post-catastrophic design. In European communities that have been ravaged by disaster, man-made or natural, analyzing architecture as a result of this destruction can grant us immeasurable insight into how society itself recovered and moved on. This leads me to a larger probing question: What parts of architecture have proven themselves to be immortal?
To explore my question, I identified countries of interest that fit this profile, wrote up a proposal, and it was granted! Over ten days, I explored three countries: Spain (Madrid), Germany (Dresden), and Italy (Sicily, Milan, and Rome). My travels consisted of tours to archeological sites, modern buildings, archival works and, to my surprise, a bit of field work as I spoke to people about their opinions on the matter.
What surprised me the most from this experience was how, upon telling people my business in their country, they would go to dedicated lengths to assist me on my journey to seek local knowledge. In Milan, I encountered a bit of trouble entering the Braidense Library because staff does not distinguish between scholars and tourists. As soon as I explained the purpose of my research, however, I was ushered into a reading room with the collection I requested. It was such a treat – I should have realized that humans exhibit such happiness and excitement when someone takes the time to understand their society and culture.
Another surprise occurred after I landed in Dresden, Germany. On my first day, I set out to find the Zemper Palace, which had burned down in the air raids of World War 2. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that the entire area had been taken over by agricultural protests focused on the hiking cost of diesel. I was wearing all black, and several protesters mistook me for a news reporter - I embraced the assumption and ran with it! I wanted to know what they were here for, and on what grounds they were protesting, so therein I became a reporter. No camera, no mic, just me. To experience a city, in all of its frustrations and pride, is a privilege.
If I were to give one piece of advice to anyone with an academic interest but who’s unsure of how to conceptualize it, I would say, “write it up.” With words on a page and an actionable idea, the dominoes have already been aligned. You just need to use your hand to tip the first one. Once the journey of self-discovery is in the works, I would say that no question you ask could possibly be “stupid.”
At Notre Dame, there is no such thing as embarrassing ignorance – if you make the effort to understand something, you will be met halfway.