From the vantage point of the third year of war in America, it is easy--suspiciously easy--to review the turbulent and ultimately successful progress of the contemporary movement in architecture and to evaluate its sometimes divergent trends.
That the battle for acceptance is practically over can no longer be doubted, and one of the strangest phenomena of our period is the crusader, still unaware that the battle is won, who goes on attempting to trade blows with adversaries who in some bewildering fashion are becoming his allies. The crusader, too, like his adversaries has changed in many instances, for his unwillingness to realize that the conflict between modernism and eclecticism is approaching an end is directing his opposition towards the processes of life itself, with reproaches to his one-time heroes for having progressed beyond the limited formulas of the 1920's.
That this confusion should exist--and exist in the minds of many more than the noisy group constituting the ultra-left in architecture--should not be the occasion for any surprise, for the success of modern architecture has come about with incredible rapidity. It reached its first peak with the Chicago school and Sullivan and Wright, only to succumb to reaction; it hit another with the completion of the theoretical work of LeCorbusier and others; a third