Cultural Context
Cultural Context
Cultural Context
Cultural Context
WORKBOOK
Prepared by Umaru U-K
2
Contents
Workshops 1-3………………………………………..3
Interlude: Walks………………………………………6
Workshops 4-6……………………………………..…8
Workshop 10 ………………………………………..17
References …………………………………………18
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Workshop 1: Vitruvius
Educating the Architect
Self proclaimed, by the conventions of his time (the 1st Century BC), and apparent
to all posterity, Vitruvius was an author, an architect, an engineer and of course, the
subject of a drawing that manifests the interrelationship between nature and
geometry, drawn by a man with whom he shares many principles; none other than
Leonardo da Vinci (Vitruvian Man, 1490). Vitruvius was certainly no dilettante.
In his writings, namely the first chapter of ‘The Ten Books on Architecture’ Vitruvius
seems to delve into a dilemma so close to his heart, which he believes, is a matter
that is of utmost importance. This ‘dilemma’ is so brilliantly and seamlessly forged
into the body of work that if this body were one which sprouted life, mankind
would sing the gospel of its infancy. He writes that it is the architect’s “judgement
that all work done by the other arts is put to test”. He then goes on to explain that
for an architect to truly be able to proclaim his/her title, they must understand that
their natural talents would be redundant if unable to follow ‘instruction’. That it is
crucial for these ‘judges’ to be acquainted with copious amounts of knowledge
from various trades, including history, philosophy, and music among others. This
bold sentiment of ‘all or nothing’ is somewhat dissenting; because in this age of
information where an architect could have access to all rules of geometry and all
drawing conventions instantaneously, is it truly necessary to have an elaborate
range of dexterity? Do the rules which Vitruvius set in the principles of an architect’s
education develop true ‘judges’, or jacks of all trades?
My opinion on this matter can be simply put as a manifestation of the reasons for
my attraction to architecture as a profession: its interdisciplinary nature.
Vitruvius’ notions of an architect needing to be well versed in all fields of arts and
history may generate mindsets focused on, or more inclined to focus on, the
ornamental aspects of their designs. In a slightly different context, Jane Jacobs
seems to have inadvertently agreed with Vitruvius’ argument for well versed
architects in that she provides a new and odd perspective into what needs to be
considered when designing public and private spaces.
Jane Jacobs wrote ‘The Death and Life of Great American Cities’ in 1961; during a
decade known for its emergence of social and sexual freedom. It is then no
surprise that Jacobs considers ‘the streets of successful city neighbourhoods’ as
that which has safety at the forefront of its design. Through her highly descriptive
language and employment of clever literary techniques (especially her
personification of the ‘street’ as an orchestrated ballet), Jacobs carefully depicts an
immersive picture of how the street and sidewalk function as a safety precaution for
those she calls the ‘natural proprietors’. She describes streets as having to be
intricately designed to act as a natural deterrent or some form of perverted
defensive design against petty or large crime. Just as Vitruvius believed architects
need to be educated in the arts to apply a deeper concept to their designs, Jacobs
proposes and even observes the way in which the interweaving of public and
private spaces should be designed for practical and sociological purposes
Workshop 3: Drawings
To the philistines, untrained eyes and those who simply have no interest in the
spacial poetics of their surroundings, the plan, section and elevation (architectural
drawings in general) are plain and uneventful two-dimensional representations of
three-dimensional concept and or structures. Its varying line weights and
inundation with symbols hold no significance and even bore its observer. If this is
the case, the same can be said about lines of code; meaningless characters
amounting to a plethora of illegible content. However, both pieces of work convey
far more detail than one could possibly observe from the surface. For without such
detail and precision, we would have ill-fitted architraves and faulty foundations just
as easily as our computers could fail and send planes hurtling towards the Earth.
My point is, learning about how stupendously intricate architectural drawings
‘need’ to be, has given me an even greater appreciation for architecture.
Interlude: Walks
The Wallace Collection
Possibly the first thing that struck me on my visit to The Wallace Collection in
Manchester Square was the vibrancy of the atmosphere. Not the people, nor the art
necessarily, but the space which encapsulated the galleries and exhibitions, the
high ceilings, the rich coloured wall paper; its high saturation and flamboyancy
almost prepare the eyes for the coming journey through the artworks. As ludicrous
as it may seem, the fact that almost every room had a different shade of wallpaper
made me feel as if the walls could speak, or as if each room had a different story to
tell, another conversation to be had. The staircase encountered upon first entry to
the building seems to flaunt its curvaceous body; a sight to be exulted. And
manoeuvring through each room felt like an adventure with a surprise lurking in
every corner. And finally, after a trail of escapades, you reach the Great Exhibition
space: the final level to this mystifying game. A space which dwarfs all that it
encompasses. Leaving all who dare to enter with the greatest feeling of excitement
and crippling agoraphobia.
As gracious and beautiful the architecture of the building is, it would be remiss of
me not to mention the artwork. Or even more interestingly, the manner in which the
architecture compliments the artwork. The carefully placed roof windows allowing
the ideal, no, optimal amount of light to pierce through and adorn the paintings on
the wall (No doubt this modality had been influenced by the renowned work of Sir
John Soane). And what of the oval room which forces its occupants to walk in
circles till they realise they’ve seen the same artwork twice? All operating in
harmony and unison, the Wallace Collection is not only a building, but also an
unforgettable experience.
Chapter 2 of John Ruskin’s ‘The Stones of Venice’ is perhaps one of the most
interesting pieces of architectural literature that I have stumbled upon. In fact, if
architecture were a tripartite being of sorts, comprising of a soul, body, and mind,
it’s almost as if this work conveys the soul; or possibly even its spiritual nature. I say
this because Ruskin gives life to architecture — albeit puerile — by declaring that it
must “act well”…”speak well”…and “look well”; illustrated as though it were a young
child to be disciplined. And this is only one of the many ways in which Ruskin
personifies architecture. He later goes on to suggest that buildings do and even
should participate in a reciprocal ‘conversation’ with their observers; now
conveying architecture as if it has reached maturity.
However, one thing that truly struck me in this piece, was the employment of subtle
humour. Although somewhat dry, the nuanced ‘jokes’ Ruskin weaves into this
chapter helps reinforce his overall point; that an architect, as a first duty to their
conscience and their client, is to truly love their work, as this is the driving force to
their project. We hear so often the importance of skill, knowledge and
consideration, that we, as students of the profession, or even those in practice may
forget that it is passion and virtue, not a pecuniary agenda, that inspires form. And
from the marriage of this form to the necessary function may an edifice be erected.
I find it particularly interesting the manner in which Berger chooses to format his
argument. In this passage, it’s almost as if we travel through divergent epochs; from
paintings which he explains to be somewhat vessels that capture an artist’s
perception, forever frozen in time and space (with the few exceptions of
movements such as cubism), to the relatively new convention of perspective and
the creation of the motion camera. At this point, it seems that a picture transcends
space, but yet is still confined to addressing “a single spectator, who, unlike God”
he goes on to explain, “could only be in one place at a time”. However, the
ingenuity in this concept Berger proposes, I find in the nuanced theme he makes
known every now and again; which is that as well as these paintings/pictures
having their own respective ‘cultural mystifications’ (as he calls them), posterity will
forever perceive these works of art in moderately to radically different ways. And
this ‘perspective’ is conditioned by “what we know or what we believe”; an
inception of sorts…
I believe that architectural artefacts of the past are the scars worn by an ever-
maturing mankind. For this reason, I feel that Heinrich Wölfflin’s ‘The Grande Style’
or ‘maniera grande’ quite beautifully depicts the transition between the
Renaissance and Baroque periods. I was quite astonished to learn how
“gracefulness and diversity gave way to… large masses”. A metaphor used be
Wölfflin to convey a retrogression of sorts (from intricate detail to blurred lines
whose only outstanding feature is their sheer size). And although this may be an
attractive style to some, Wölfflin argues — in the frankest of terms — that bigger is
certainly not better. In fact, while reading this piece of work, I was able to make the
association of architecture being likened to a drug or poison of some sort. If this
were the case, then a harmonious Renaissance, filled with order and proportion,
that seeps through its observers body and is digested slowly, would be a slow, yet
blissful death. Whereas the immediate strike and almost venomous disposition of
Baroque architecture, leaves its observer to suffer a quick, yet painful demise; albeit
a contradiction to the nature of death.
Wölfflin asserts that grander architectural structures often detract from attention to
detail; an idea inferred from a book written in 1964. As much as I would like to
explore the temporal aspects of such an idea, — or whether or not the idea has
temporal aspects — I do not have enough information to state an opinion on such
an inquiry. However I do hope that through my studies in the coming months and
years to come, I can put this theory to the test and evaluate whether buildings in
this day and age are the magnum opus’ of meticulous architects, or grande yet
plain remnants of an outdated epoch.
Interlude: Walks
The Royal College of Physicians
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s a hovering spaceship… This was my reaction upon first
glance of the Royal College of Physicians in St Andrews Place. Why did I have this
reaction you ask? Well quite simply because the building is designed in a manner
which makes it seem as if its top floor, propelled by cantilevers, is levitating (which
happens to be a sort of ambulatory space that gazes upon the lesser tiers; similar
to an old surgery theatre where doctors and physicians alike would gather to watch
the spectacle of surgery). It also sort of reminded me of an upside-down birthday
cake. Which is quite exciting until you realise that it is highly unlikely that any sort of
party take place in the Royal College of Physicians. Nonetheless, the exterior of the
building seems to be merely a formality as the interior space takes a very
interesting form. Only once you’ve reached the staircase do you truly realise the
beautiful tricks this structure has up its sleeve. It too, appears to levitate, and not
only that, it also cascades upwards in a sumptuously arranged manner. Similar to
the shifting grand staircase depicted in the Harry Potter films (Hogwarts), this
staircase seems as if it is an illusion, but in fact seamlessly weaves its way to the top
floor.
Workshop 7: Le Corbusier
Towards A New Architecture
To the ‘eyes’ of those who pay attention to detail, probably the first thing that one
may notice about Le Corbusier’s ‘Towards A New Architecture’, is its pace. Just as
diverse music genres have varying bpm’s which influence a listeners mood and
thus enthusiasm (or a lack thereof), Corbusier’s fast paced style of writing, creates
excitement and zealousness in a reader. Which I believe is fitting, as this piece of
work seeks to redefine what it means to be an architect and break the mindset of
conforming to social conventions (which inhibits epochal evolution). I feel that
Corbusier, a modernist, is quite eccentric and exuberant in his approach to
architecture. As opposed to the likes of Vitruvius and Ruskin (of whose works we
explored earlier), Corbusier perceives the ‘house’ as a ‘machine’. This fascinates me.
As with Corbusier’s writing tempo, the book has a few recurring themes. Themes
such as an emphasis into the “eyes that do not see” and the idea of architecture
being a “revolution”. The concept of deceitful eyes really does intrigue me (much
like the work John Berger). It’s almost as if to say that our eyes, much like a
camcorder, capture a continuum of footage, yet unlike a camera, are unable to see
the snapshots of the footage to discern the individual instances or events that
define the epoch we live in. And Corbusier considers these epochal defining
instances, to be architecture. And the other theme of revolution is also quite
interesting because it refers back to the idea of architecture being a means to
break social conformity to set new standards for the “House Machine”; a shift in
paradigm.
The love and passion Federov has for knowledge, manifested by his enthusiasm for
libraries and museums is shared by Vitruvius (whose love for knowledge was
surpassed only by the employment of such knowledge in architecture). However
Federov took things a step further by placing faith (or religion) on the same
pedestal that knowledge — in the form of libraries and museums — lay upon. I find
that this may be quite dissenting to many as the dominant secular nature of the
21st century has quite radically segregated ‘faith’ and ‘education’. Although there is
a stereotype for the religious being ignorant to science or that which attempts to
explain the unexplainable (thereby contradicting the concept of ‘faith’), I feel that
Federov is quite right to suggest that religion/faith is necessary to preserving
history and is therefore fundamental to preserving knowledge.
This idea of architecture being a spooky time-travelling vessel of sorts, is not only
important for the purpose of preserving knowledge, but also for the perpetuation
of higher learning and development. This point, I feel, Morris conveys in a
somewhat verbose manner as he discusses the virtues of the Ancient Greeks who
were able to make great advances in the fields of architecture, literature and the
arts.
Interlude: Walks
National British Museum
Although i’ve been to the National British Museum in London quite a few times in
the past, the geodesic-dome-style roof that encloses the central hall never ceases
to amaze me; if you stand at the middle of the hall looking towards the staircase(s),
the roof sort of resembles a symmetrical vortex. However, something about this
aspect of the hall that irks me is the lighting (or lack thereof). England is overcast
more often than not, thus the great overhead roof isn’t always shown in its best light
(quite literally). I digress… The experience of the central hall is quite similar to that
of the great exhibition space of the Wallace Collection. And if not for the classical
orders and Greek style pediments, I would inquire whether this grand display of
architecture were a form of ‘maniera grande’ as described by Heinrich Wölfflin.
Another observation I find quite interesting about the museum, especially with
regard to the central hall, is the manner in which people interact with the
architecture; movement patterns. The sense of agoraphobia (the fear of large
spaces) arises as I notice people tend to congregate at ‘hot-spots’ within the space.
This may be because we as humans have a natural inclination to fear being singled
out, or it may simply be a matter of convenience (possibly that these locations serve
a particular function that majority of visitors want to see/use).
Much like the authors of the other pieces of literature that i’ve looked at, Sullivan
feels that buildings (the tall office building in this instance) is something to be
exulted and rejoiced, not a template to be copied and pasted at every street corner
as felt necessary. He reinforces his attraction to this sort of building when he
explains that it is believed that the “classical column” is the “true prototype” of the
tall office building, thereby placing it on the same level as the “Greek temple” and
“Gothic cathedral”. Although somewhat confusing to fully understand and therefore
analyse, I feel that in this piece of work, Sullivan poses an interesting question; are
tall modern structures built for pecuniary and or mercantile purposes truly
‘organic’?
References
https://www.flaticon.com/free-icon/settings-gears_60473
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Empire_State_Building
http://www.history.com/topics/ancient-history/the-egyptian-pyramids
https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/ap-art-history/west-and-central-asia/a/the-
kaaba
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/mid-21st-century-modern-that-jetsons-
architecture-2494820/
https://www.nytimes.com/2016/07/31/magazine/the-oppressive-gospel-of-
minimalism.html
https://www.elephantjournal.com/2013/11/spirit-yahia-lababidi-poem/
https://www.google.co.uk/url?
sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&ved=0ahUKEwiH25uXoobYAhVKIMAKHUH
hCTgQjBwIBA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fimg.elephantjournal.com%2Fwp-
content%2Fuploads%2F2013%2F01%2Fsoul.jpg&psig=AOvVaw1Srv2c2bR6mlscJ1s1u7u
t&ust=1513229730222698
http://mathworld.wolfram.com/images/eps-gif/Perspective_730.gif
http://www.landscapeforms.com/en-us/product/pages/35-Guide-Bollard.aspx
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_College_of_Physicians
http://interactive.wttw.com/a/architect-michael-graves-postmodernism-timeline