A recent Guardian newspaper bit of puff asked columnists to write about the most formative cultural event they saw in the field they write about. So the pop critic picked seeing the Pixies in 1988, Adrian Searle chose an exhibition of Goya and Billington wrote about a performance of Pinter's No Man's Land.
So what would I pick, as an architectural historian?
There are a few great buildings I can think of visiting while a teenager, some overwhelming experiences and moments of inspiration, Durham Cathedral, the Houses of Parliament, St Peter's in Rome, and so on. But the moment at which my love of architecture first stirred properly was in the National Theatre in London when my Dad pointed out to me how the concrete had been cast in wooden moulds leaving an imprint of their grain which then decorated the walls. I found the idea fascinating and weird. These clear cut lines and curves, otherwise overwhelmingly a man-made creation but with a texture and softness from nature. The sober grey of the concrete suddenly become much less alien from the quiet browns of timber. I felt I could almost imagine the decisions being taken at the architects' meetings; for the first time I truly appreciated the level of detail and depth that architectural design could take.
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