Chr. Norberg-Schulz Intentions in Architecture

Intentions in Architecture Christian Norberg-Schulz

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Contents

Preface

7

1.

Introductio n

II.

Backgro und 1. 2.

Perceprion Symbolization

II

53

III. Theory 1. 2.

3. 4. 5. 6.

Towards an integrated theory of architecture. The building task Form Technics Semantics The architectural totality

IV . O utlook

.

Experience Production 3. Analysis 4. Education 1.

' 95

2.

2 01

Bibliography

225

Index

233

Ill ustrations

243

Preface

The present study has grown out of the concrete problem s an architect encounters in his profession. We do not, in the first place. think of the technical difficulties which have to be surmounted in connection with any building task, but we rather have in mind the problem of defining the task, and of deciding whether a planned or completed solution is satisfactory. In both cases we have to take into consideration ' practical ' and "artistic ' needs which concern the architect as well as society and the individual client . Today we lack a real basis for this procedure, and the result is a rather discouraging' debate' where the parties talk at cross purposes without arriving at fruitful , mutu ally helpful approaches to the problem. In other words, we lack a satisfactory theory of architecture. Under the continual pressure of new demands, most professions have in our time had to develop comprehensive theoretical' tools' . Our architectural solutions, however, are still the result of more or less accidental improvisations. T he architects have shown themselves rather unwilling to work out a theoretical basis for their field, mostly because of the prejudice that theory kills the creative faculty. In the present study an attempt will be made to prove that this view is erroneous. While our practical problems have to a certain degree been analyzed, architecture also comprises important' environmental ' problems which so far have by no means been adequately investigated. T herefore, I originally assigned myself the task of discussing' the psychological background of architecture '. During this work , however, it became clear that this aspect cannot be separated from the practical side of the matter, and that architecture both as a problem and as ready solutions, must be considered as a whole, of which the individual parts are mutually interdependent. The present study has therefore developed into an attempt to present an ordered survey of all the ' dimensions ' which may be imagined to enter a work

7

of architecture. It aims at general validity. and any architectural solution may be understood as a special case which is covered by the theory. In other words, I attempt to bring order into that complex of ends and means which the concept ' architecture ' comprises. The study therefore gives the outlines of a conceptual scheme which may be used to analyze building tasks as well as finished works; and I address myself both to the practising architect and to the architectural historian. It must be stressed that the purpose is not to solve the problems. Th e stud)' is neither a ' textbook ' of architecture, nor an historical survey. Th e intention is only to organize the subject-matter in order to arrive at a common basis for collaboration in solving the problems. Th e study, therefore. is theoretical in the real sense of the word. The theory should open our eyes ' to the richness of the possibilities, rather than support ready-made rules and cliches. T o enable us to see the connections between the theory and our concrete empirical problems, the study opens with a short account of the present architectural situation, and concludes with an ' outlook ' on the pcwible applications of the theory. These parts of the study (I and IV) pretend neither to be exhaustive, nor to 'explain' the actual situation. Th ey only have the purpose of giving the study a wider frame of reference. Only in part III, the theory proper, have I attempted to carry through a comprehensive presentation. Because of the vastness of the problem, it naturally remains a 'skeleton ' which should be completed through future, more detailed research. Part II results from the necessity of applying scientific methods, and of basing the architectural theory on information from other fields. H ence, methodological, psychological, sociological and semiotical information is presented, which in my opinion should belong to the general educational background of any architect or architectural historian. It was found convenient to separate these topics from the theory proper, in order to make the latter more lucid. All comments and quotations are collected in notes. These have become rather numerous, but only in this way could the main text be given a coherent and clear form. The theory is derived from my knowledge of architecture, that is, from a limited knowledge of a limited number of examples. The theory therefore has to be tried out and refined through application in the largest possible number of concrete cases. This 'successive approximation' is 8

necessary if a satisfactory theoretical tool is to be found . I believe I have established a point of departure, and given the opportunity I shall continue the research through extensive investigations of ancient and contemporary architecture. I wish to express my thanks to T he Norwegian Research Council for Science and the H umanities for a two-year travelling fellowship, which made it possible to collect the historical material which gives substance to the study. The work would hardly have been possible without the inspiration I received as a pupil of S. Giedion at the Eidgenossische Technische Hochschule in Zurich. The idea of seeing architecture as a general cultural phenomenon has been born through innumerable discussions with Dipl. Ar ch. E. Neuenschwander (Zurich) , Professor A. Korsmo (T rondheim), Professor A. Dorner (ex-Benning ton College), H. MjcIva (Oslo), S. Fehn (Oslo), Professor B. L. Mohr (Tro ndheim), H . Ryvarden (Trondheim), and Dr. A. Brenna (Oslo). Special thank s go to Professor H . P. L' Or ange (Rome), Professor Mies van der Rohc (Chicago), Professor Ph. Frank (Cambridge, Mass.), Professor T. Parsons (Cambridge, Mass.), Professor T . Maldonado (Ulm), and above all to O. Skardal (Oslo), who made the author understand the fruitfulness of the psychological and sociological approach to art and architecture. T hanks are also due to the authors of those wr itings which have been of special importance to the study, above all E. Brunswik, C. Morris, G. Paulsson, H . Sedlmayr, R. Wittkower, D. Frey, L. Mumford, J. Piaget, J. Jorgensen, M. Wertheimer, and L. Wittgenstein. The study is furthermore based on my experience as a teacher and lecturer at Th e State School of Arts and Crafts (Oslo), Hochschule fur Gestaltung (U1m), The University of Oslo, T he Technical University of Norway (T rondhcim), and as a Smith-Mund t-Fulbright scholar at Harvard University (Cambridge. Mass.).

Rome, December I¢ I

1.

Introduction

The present situation of architecture is confused and puzzling. From th, client we hear constant complaints about the architects' lack of ability [ 0 satisfy him, from a practical as well as from an aesthetical and economical point of view. I The authorities give us to understand that it is often doubtful whether the architects a~ qualified to solve the problems which society poses. 2 And the architects themselves disagree on issues so fundamental that their discussion must be interpreted as an expression of groping uncertainty. The disagreement does not only concern the so-called •aesthetic' problems, but also the fundamental questions of how man should live and work in buildings and cities. l It is also characteristic that architectural education has been under revision for a long time. New didactical principles are wanted. but the ends and means are in dispute. 4 All these symptoms unite to indicate a confusion in our environment which we do not agree about how to unravel. The unified character we know from the cities and architectural lay-outs of the past is becoming a dying memory. 5 The result of this situation is that the architect is hardly accorded the same recognition as other specialists with an equally high education. Many look upon him as a •necessary evil' , with the sole task of trimming the ideas of the client. And in writing and speech he is pointed out as responsible for the inconveniences and monotonous confusion of our present-day environment. Many architects, on the other hand , pay scanty respect to the taste and wishes of the client, and maintain that he has to be ' educated' . 6 The situation is very unfortunate. The absence of mutual confide nce between the parties and the lack of opportunity to co-operate on a common basis will of course: reduce the chances that new buildings and lay-outs

13

I Stt the in troducricn to S. Giedion: A Dff'tldc 0/ NCIII Arrhitmuu 19J7-1~7. Ziilich

195°· 2 In f inl:lnd . howev~ . thi . ..sput of the l.iru..tion i. very positi...,. Stt E. 6: C. Neu -

enschwander: Fi,,,,i,rhc & uu " / AtdieAlt'/lr Atllto '950-5' . ZUrich 1954. pp. 5 if. l The n~ ideas brought fonh by the architects of the modern movement have cTuted strong ro nlroy=ics. To adYOCate their views more efficiently. the ID(xk rn architects fou nded the Ccngres Inter n:u:io""w: d'Archi. tecture Moder nc (Cl AM) in 1o10 fuori It m ura.

II It is common that work , of ar l arc cv ..• luated ..o:. trained in the design of churches and palaces, were u nable to plan for tbe rnaSiCS oE indum ial society, and lost contact with large parts of building activit}".

departure, and gave us the first systematic attempt at an examination of the actual building tasks. Its investigations usually aimed at finding the .correct ' minimum measures (sizes), on the assumption that architecture above all means efficiency and economy. ZI As time passed, however, many architects recognized that the 'classical' functionalism was based upon too narrow a definition of the building task. They understood that it is not ~nough to adopt the most economical solution, and lately another problem has come steadily to the fore. It has presented itself in many different ways, but in general we may say that interest has begun to grow in the milieu-creating function of architecture. Environment influences human beings, and this implies that the purpose of architecture transcends the definition given by early functionalism. zz Fer the present, however. we know very little about how this influence works, and the new point of view is therefore subject to disagreement .cid misunderstanding. 2J The question whether we need a new ' monumentality' has also been considered. Through giving a visual expression to the constitutive ideas : : a community or to the social structure, architecture becomes symbolic : : •monumental ' . 24 In other words, one tries to make manifest a common oasis which may counteract the lonelincs of modern man and the separacon of the artist from the public." Th e misunderstandings created by -ais problem arc closely related to the confusion within the 'aesthetic ' .iimension of architecture. T he styles and formal ideals of the past have ceen exposed to increasingly strong attacks, on the grounds that new -r oblems demand fundamentally new solutions. Schinkel, deeply impressed ~ :' the new industrial buildings he saw in England in 1826, exclaimed: . Should We not try to find our own style?' 26 Afterwards, however, he went on building both in the neo-classical and the Gothic styles. 27 T he ;:yle had become a ' mask ' covering the real structure of the edifice. 28 Juring the great epochs of the past certain forms had always been reserved for certain tasks, Th e classical orders were used with caution outside churches and palaces, and the dome, for instance, had a very particular function as a symbol of heaven. 29 In the nineteenth century these forms ";\'ere transferred to completely new types of buildings, and a ' devaluation' of the forms resulted. 30 Th e reaction against this 'confusion of styles'

'7

21 It wa•• funct ional ' to solve a task like Wolinung fiir dar ExIJlenzminim um. (Th~ tid e ref~" to a ClAM-publicatio n, Sum g:ll"t 19.30)' Neuferr's BlJucnlwurfslclirc is a cha racteristic product of m e period . Di~

22 T he new attilUd c ....:to programmatica lly Cllr~"ed

at the confercnce ' T he Social na. is of Design ' , hd d at Princeton Uni versity in 1947. Stt T. CrdghlOn; B"ildi" g Jor Modern M"n , Prineeton ' 949.

23 It i. asserted rhae 1'CT)' large apartme nthuildi ng> have ;I harmful effcci on the inhabitant s. Solutions like: the: Unitt! d'H llbitlltion of I.e Corbusier in ~br""il1e, h;lve: been c:xposal to violent eriticism. W e do DOT. hownn". kno w .m ytbin g e:~act ;l1>out such • dfC'l:ts ' , and nced pSj'c:bologieil and wt iological in vc:sl:igations. 2~

Giedion:

Di~ nc~

Mo"" menuJ itiit.

2S Rom;lntic art ;lnd later nprn,ioni.m ~d impressionism abo..e :ill expressed the J'C'rson· ality of the: artist . Thi s impliro. the: emanc ipa. tion, but ;1110 the ""laoo n of the indi..J.dual. See A. Oof"ner, The Way bryoni ' Art ' , S ew York '947. :!6 w~ wililatn" discuss the concept of style. 21 See H. Bc:cnken: &lifjf/~risdlc Ba"iJun dn deutrchcn Rhmant;k, Main>: 1'JSl.

111 H. Sedlma jr . Vcr/ust i n .\I;tlc, Salz• burg 19'fS, p. 6~. • ~ K. Lehmann : ' Tfic Dome of Heaven ' , .4rt Bull. Vol. XXVlI . j() See S. Gledion : ' :"bpolc:on and the Dcnluation of Symbols ' , Architcctur~I Review , No. II , t 9~7. As ~ s~lf-made man Napclecn was typical of {he ni ne{~nth centur y. He had to show hi. ' good taste " by im i{31ing the accepted culture of the pan, thus g3ining a 'hu manist ic alihi ' .

2 99

happened in two different ways. In some places an attempt was made to establish a new contact with the past, in the belief that this would bring architecture closer to life. 31 Elsewhere. what is fundamentally new in the problems of our day was stressed, all kinds of historicism was eschewed, and neue Sachlichkeit propagated instead. 32 Thi s movement found its inspiration in abstract art, and in the possibilities offered by new building materials, such as iron. concrete. and glass. 33 Little by little new characteristic forms developed, displacing the devaluated cliches of historicism. But the public remained without understanding of this radical new orientation, which also created a split among the architects themselves. Since the second world war, architecture has obviously entered a new phase. Instead of seeing historicism as an alternative, many want to make modern architecture ' human' by ' softening' or 'enriching' itsnaked elementary form s. The en richment , so far, has mostly had the character of fancies, degenerating into an ever more forced play with strange forms and effe cts. 34 We are here faced with basic problems which involve a revision of the aesthetic dimension of architecture. How can architecture again become a sensitive medium, able to register relevant variations in the building tasks, and at the same time maintain a certain visual order? A new aesthetic orientation transcending the arbitrary play with forms is surely needed, although it is not elaimed that the result should resemble the styles of the past. Undoubtedly we need a formal differentiation of the buildings corresponding to the functional differences of the building tasks. 35 But so far we have not found any answer to the question whether the differentiation should also acquir e a symbolizing aspect by the assignm ent of particular forms to particular functions with the purpose of ' representing' a cultural structure. So far modern architecture has had the character of a ' belief ' , rather than a worked-out method based upon a d ear analysis of functional, sociological, and cultural problems. The lack of agreement among the architects has deprived architectural education of its stability. It has undergone transformations which correspond to the phases of the aesthetic ' debate ' . 36 After the teaching of styles in the academies came the Bauhaus, and a complete break with all historicism. Th e history of art and architecture was dropped from the curriculum. Instead, a free experimenting with materials and forms was introduced :

18

j l In Scandinavia thi, tendency do minated around the turn of the century. Th e nationa l architecture . however, hardly archi",cd anything but a , uperlicia.l. borrowing of motives , and therefore did not contr ibute 10 the $0lution of actual tasks, Sec T. Pauluon , Saz'lldi. '114";4 '11 ArcMteet..u , London 1958, p. 18a. 1! See P. John son , Mia New York 19-\7, p. 186.

3

". '11

der Rolle.

II See S. Giedion : Sptue. Time ."d ATt Mt«ture, Cambridge 19"16, pp. 126 If . 34 Th i, tendency 'IanM in Sweden. showing il>el! already in the Ian works of .'"plund . Recently it bas ~n especially pronoun ced in IUl ly. 3~ We will bt...r d i,cu,s the concept of order and it, relation to art iculation and variation. So far, we will only assert that it is a misunderstanding to regard order and variation a, antagonists.

36 See part IV, ch. 4 of the present mllly .

everything should be invented anew. 37 The purpose was not to create a new style, but to establish a •free ' approach to the tasks. It was said that this implied a new contact with reality. 38 Today we may say that the Bauhaus initiated a cleaning process which freed us from the blind copying of obsolete forms. But we also realize that the Bauhaus method ought to be supplemented and developed on the basis of a better understanding of psychological and sociological factors. 39 Education in this field should above all be founded upon an understanding of the nature of the architectural totality, and it may be doubted if the free experiments and •artistic ' activities of the Bauhaus will retain their importance in future. It is also interesting to notice that generally the history of art and architecture has again been introduced into the curriculum, not for the purpose of copying, but because it seems somewhat imprudent to throw the experiences of several thousand years overboard. il) These reflections show us that the debate among the architects is related to and yet differs from the criticisms of the client and the authorities. The architects often react too, of course, because of habits and prejudices, and may wit h more or less justification accuse each other of building ' ugly' or •unpractical ' houses. But they also discuss problems on a higher level, at which the layman would hardl y be able to participate. The public does not easily understand that issues such as the relations between technics and form, or form and function, really are important . As long as the house looks like a beloved prototype and does not cost too much , the problem of the layman is solved. Any closer scrutiny of the ideas of the last hundred years, however, shows that the new architecture is not a result of the wish for rArt pour t'Art, but has sprung from the strivings of idealistic individuals to make man's environment better;" Hence the architects seem to believe that the satisfaction obtained when fulfilling the wishes of the individual is only apparent. Another reason for the existing difficulties in bridging the gaps between the architect and the layman and between the architects themselves, is the lack of a precise terminology. Our confused debate on architectural matters is a demonstration of imprecise use of language and meaningless formulations. 42 This loose terminology adds to the disorder, and makes sound discussion difficult even among the architects themselves.

'9

31 ' Wir pfl~gt~n d~ s intuitiv~ Reagiec~b auf die unmitt~lbar~ Erfahrung ·. W. Gropius: "Dies ist rneine Form~l ' in DN' Ardiuk'.

No.

12,

1958.

3a Sec Gropius : Archil~ktur, Fraokfurt /M

1955. pp. 15 s. 39 Th e didactical philo sophy presented by G rop ilU in Archiu't'ur emp loys a v~ impreeisc: terminology and is ~ upon frag. me ntary or obsolete infor m.:nion from the ~uxi1iary sciencn. Sec pp. 26 ff. il) TIl " Importance of arc hitectural hi.tory hu been streosnl by Bru no Zevi, but we an: still far from a ...tidaetory teaching of th e .ubje:et.

41 Espn:ially known is th~ contribution of Le Corbusier. ~ I.e Corburicc: UI n"ulO"

dn hommn . Paris ' 9+" 42 Above .all we have in mind the use of the word •space. ' , which is c:rnploya:l without making clear if one refers to a phy.ie.a1 or a psyehological sp~c~ . or peebaps to some unddillCS and spr e:od. the effects into t he en viro nme nt. The nature of the [ens is cond ilionw. by what has to be collected , and d eterm ines the effects.

47 Sec T . Par son. &. E . A. Shil. : ' Value•• Motives and System. of Action ' , in Tow a, J a wnmJ Throry of Action. Cam bridge 1951, p. 56.

to human predictions and control, and the architect has to participate in the planning which should secure stability through the changes. In general we may say that architecture is a human product which should order and improve our relations with the environment , It is therefore necessary to investigate how human products are brought forth. Hence we should ask : What purpose has architectu re as a human product? The functional-practical, the milieu-creating and the symbolizing aspects constitute three possible answers to the question, all of which have to be investigated more closely, and which should, if necessary, be supplemented with other factors. 48 If we return to the layman, we may assert that architecture undoubtedly concerns him in many different ways. Our life consists of changing activities which demand changing surro undings. This implies that the environment will 'look ' different according to our immediate state or ' role '. 49 To take into consideration this relative and variable rd ation between man and his environment, it is necessary to stress the question: How does orchitccture ( the environment] inpu~na us? It is a truism to say th at the environment influences us and determines our ' mood ' . That architecture is a pare of our environment is just as evident. If we take this point of departure, architecture has not only an instrumental pur pose, but also a psychological function. T he question could also be put in this way: In what outer circumstances do we have this or that particular experience? se And further we shall ask: Do we always have the same experiences in similar outer circumstances? From everyday experience we know that the last question has to be answered in the negative. We do know that we might have very different experiences although the surroundings remain the same, A kn own object may suddenly appear completely different, and We ma y say that we have become alive to anothe r of its aspects. Does this relativism mean that architecture only plays a minor role as a background for our daily activities, and at the most, illay induce certain ' sentiments ' ? And if this is the case, docs it necessarily have to be like this? An yway it is evident that the relationship between man and his environment is not as simple as it may seem at first sight. We therefore have to investigate more closely how we really perceive the world around us. 51 A better understanding of this process may also help us to grasp what it means to 'cxperi22

4&

The ..ctu~i pul'JlO2 of uchito:cture n atur-

ally differs from reg;on to region. In ItaI,.. the utisfaction of simple ph)'1ial needs is of prene imponance; in Norway, Instead, the milieu-problem is urgent. 49 See H . A. Murr~y: 'Tow~rd a Classifica· non of Interactions", in To wa~d a Glm craf Th~ry oj Actiol1 , P: 459.

woro

:so The ' u perience' abo w yers the perceptions of which we arc not immediately cc nscieus, 51 This problem is treated by the psychology of perception which I",.• been de Ydopcd On an e"'p"rimelllal basis duri ng the last 70·80 }'cars.

cnce architecture ' in the changing situations of daily life, It is possible to learn to experience architecture, and the architects need such a training , That the public 'learns to see' is also necessary if we want to increase the respect for architecture and to bridge the gap between the professional man and his client. To give the questions about the purpose and effec ts of arch itecture a basis, it is necessary to inqu ire whether particular form s ough t to be correlated with part icular tasks. We thus have to ask : Why has a building from a particular puiod a particular form ?sz This is the cen tral problem in architectural history as well as in architectural theory. 53 We do not intend that the study of history should lead to a new historicism based on a copying of the form s of the past. The information given by history should above all illustrate the relations between problems and solutions, and thus furni sh an empirical basis for further work. If we take our way of putting the problem as a point of departure for an investigation of architecture's (changing) role in society, a new and rich field of study is laid open. 54 Today the so-called analytical explanations of work s of architecture are usually rather dubious. 55 To render an account of why a building 'looks' as it does, we should rirsr have to describe it in an accurate and illuminating way, We here again retu rn to the demand for a well-defined and coherent term inology. This terminology should not only have a logical structure; it should also be empirically founded to enable us to order our subject-matter in a convenicnt way. 56 We thus have to develop a conceptua l scheme which makes it possible to answer the question : What docs 'architectural form' mean? This is logically related to the preceding question. In both cases we have :0 study the relations between corresponding structures in different fields. Firstly we should' trans late ' a practical-psychological-social-cultura l situation into architecture, and subsequently the a~chite cture into descrip tive terms." In doing chis, were are treating the relation between build ing task and architectural solution, which is the core of our problem . On a purdy theoretical levc:l we gain knowledge about the relation between task and solution, But this know ledge may also be incorporated Into a m ethod wh ich helps us in solving concrete probl ems, and which might facilitate the historical analysis going from the solution back to

'3

51 We could 31s0S3Y : ' Why does ~ buildi ng from a certain time look as it does ? ' .

n The que'tion of Ihe m eaning of ' tra_ d ition ' lxclong. here. Wh;' d o we tak e over some for ms fro m th e J"I,t, and wh y d o we reject mhets~ 54 Severa l art historia n> have understood the imporlaoee of th is poim of view, C5pcci.:llly Gregor P,m l. son. Sec K anft llu kctt ByggnllJ, Stock holm 1W , 'm d Die Sodllic Dime,u;on der K Ulfft , Bern 1955.

55 "There CXUIS, how ever , a ver y valuah le literalure treal ing more limitro., special proh_ lerns, 56 So far , su.c:h attempts have remained {rag. mcmM y, for instance the ' G rundlxgri ffe ' of H einrie h WoltRin. See H . WOltRin: Kunst_ gudru-Julichc Gn".Jbcgrit!c, Miinm o:n 1915'

5; Huilding task _ Building _ r>ncriprion .

the task. T he historical analysis orders our experiences and makes the judgement of solutions possible. All in all, we arrive at a theory treating architectural problems. That does not mean that architecture is reduced to this theory. Architectural solutions are not brought forth by intellectual analysis alone. On the other hand it is not possible for responsible architects to base their solutions on the arbitrary tastes and wishes of the public. We may actually claim that the visual chaos of our day stems above all from the architects' attempts to satisfy isolated or misunderstood needs. Th e responsibility of the architect as the one who more than anybody else gives form to our environment, can only be based upon a clarification of the purpose and means of architecture. The questions we have taken as a point of departure for the present study belong to three different categories. Firstly we have the questions concerning the relationship between buildings and those who use them. that is, the prerequisites and effects of architecture. Subsequently follows the question about the organization of the means, seen independently of their effects. Finally we question whether particular means correspond to particular prerequisites and effects. Taken together the questions cover all aspects of architecture as a hum an product. 53 Th e theory thus becomes complete, if we succeed in answering these questions. T he' nature of architecture ' is not something which has to be added to our questions. ' The nature of architecture' can only be characterized by combining the answers to the three kinds of questions we have indicated, and does not consist in any unk nown metaphysical factor. Th e term is, by the way, a characteristic symptom of the lack of clear thinking still common in architectural aesthetics. We should stop' freezing ' architecture into abstract dimensions which only rarely have any contact with actual reality. The logical ske/cton of our architectural theory will always remain valid because it is purely analytical. Thi s does not mean that architecture is always the same, only that the theory is capable of covering all possible historical 'c ontents'. Hence we do not want to present a 'textbook ' , but to establish a convenient method of architectural analysis. At the centre of our investigation we put the work of architecture, and we understand this as a human product, that is. we study the conditions under which it appears.

53 The c1anific~tiDn in JlfincipJe correspond. be d ;scu.Kd

to th je(1 G exists" is Untamoun t to " such and such symbolizing phcnomella are present" '. Jorgensen: op . clr., p. 157·

relations between phenomena. Thus they have no independent existence and it is meaningless to talk about "das Ding an sich ". 6 Wh en we say that an object has ' unknown' properties, this does not mean that it has an independent existence, only that our conception of the object is insufficicnt and has to be revised through futu re experiences. We use the word ' object' in the widest possible way in accordance with Carnap, who defines the object as ' alles woriiber cine Aussage zcmachr wcrden karin". i Both the ' things' of our daily life and the less intelligible concepts of science, such as 'atom ' , arc objects. Works of art, social groups, political parties, and even the State itself, are objects. although they are not physical things. O BJECT LEVELS

Generally we judge and act on the basis of a few representing phenomena, that is, we have an incompl ete and superficial idea of the world of objects. This may, of course, be dangerous, and may lead to unfortunate actions. :f we marry the girl because of her beauty, it may bring along unpleasant surprises. If we experience or judge a work of art on the basis of an accidental but conspicuous property. we are guilt y of an injustice, disre;arding the more essential properties of the object. Generally the objects .i:C represented by diffuse ' totality-phenomena' or by particularly pro-aounccd properties. It may of course happen that this gives a satisfactory oasis for our behaviour, but in front of works of art this is hardly the ~ a 5C . Works of art are generally very complex objects and therefore not easily accessible. Thus we generally do not advance beyond the perceiving )f secondary properties. It is a fundam ental misunderstanding to believe -har a 'good ' work of art is characterized by being easily perceived. We show the tendency to abstract single properties and regard them as if they ·.. .-ere the whole object. 8 It is also impor tant to underline that the phenomena receive their -cprcscntative function through ourselves. T hus we have to learn that a .ertain phenomenon is mediating a particular object, and through expe- ie nce we have to discover the relations between the phenomena, and build "P a world of objects. We have to learn a foreign langua ge. just as we

(, ' Dj ~ Moglkhkeil ..inc. Vor kom mcn' in ist riotts, Oxford 1953. p. 193. T his makes u' underst=d the nature of ..lsual illu. ions and Gestall phenomena. Th e illu. ion of Kundt, where the left ,ubdi..idcd hall sam. longc.th an the righ t one. resul ts from the formation of an inlermcdi..ry obj= lrtw~en num~ and length. The ha.lYe$ :are eq=l. but the left one comists of more p:uu. T his ' I!IOR' influences the pcrceptinn of the lengt hs (Brunswik : WQ },rnd mung. .•• p. '40). The WC'IIkllOwn M iilla.L~ illusion can be und erstood ..s the form ..rion of an intermediarj- object between a length and an ard (Brun. wik : WQhr"chm" "l··· . p. I SO).

" of the situation. 96

Werner : op. eil. • pp. Il6 ff .

and personal factors, 91 On the other hand , we can within any culture recognize characteristic errors of perception. These may follow from an insufficient organization of the situation due to the lack of appropria te schemata, or from the employment of wrong schemata. The last case often presents itself as trom pe-l'oeil or as a confusion of Sein und Schein (we marry the girl because of her beauty).

9i We can of course imagin e' 'impossible ' organbt. R2der: A Modern Boot of Est"~tiCl , New York 1951. p. 1111).

7'J ' By communica.ting the .. incom muniQb!c " , it (art) cnates " com munity of appreeiatioo to supplement the community of scientific in terpretation.' (Rader : op. cit. ,

p?

:S:'. II.)

pp. 38~ If. SlJes>CS one-sidedly tha t the work of art is a.n 'objea of d irect gratification ' . 76 Parooos: op. e il.,

oom~ what

';'1 See Morris : • Science. An and Technology' , T"~ Krnyon & view 1939.

objects, but in these the evaluative attitude balances or outweighs the cathexis. What has been said in the preceding sentences belongs to the pragmatics which initiate the semiotical study of art. Art-history tells us that the objects concretized by the work of art can be of the most different kinds. Th e art of the Renaissance, for instance, was partly conditioned by the contemporary theories of geometry and musical harmony." More often the ' raw-material' is taken from our daily life. 79 Th e contents of a work of art are distributed on several interconnected object-levels. Panofsky dis. tinguishes between three levels. T he lowest one embraces all physical objects and actions, and is named ' primary or natural subject matter ' . The second he calls ' secondary or conventional subject matter ' , and it comprises the meanings designated by the physical objects and actions. Thus we know that a man pierced by arrows ' means' St. Sebastian. On the last level we find the higher social and cultural objects mediated by the meanings, such as the religious objects manifested by St. Sebastian. Panofsky calls this ' intrinsic meaning or content ' . In art-history the two higher levels are usually denominated ' iconography' and 'iconology'. 80 Th e study of the pragmatic dimension therefore falls into two parts: the question of the meaning of the art-forms, and the question wh y certain meanings are intended at certain times. 31 Kn owl~dg( is always necessary to experience the art of the past, a knowledge which centres on the semantical relations between forms and meanings. The syntactical study of form in art has been given much attention. Particularly well known are Wolfflin's five pairs of Grun dbegriffc , which were intended to describe the formal metamorphosis from Renaissance to Baroque. " Although the concepts of Wolfflin have an empirical basis, they are of limited use, and the attempts of other scholars to transfer them to other historical periods must be considered somewhat unfruitful. More and more do we realize that the artistic form is so complex that it cannot be described by means of a few ' basic concepts'. Instead we need a much more flexible tool. Th e decisive step to solve the problem was taken by H ans Sedlmayr, who introduced the method of ' structural analysis' (Strukt uranalYJ( ). Th is aims at rendering an account of 'd ie Hierarchie der Motive in dem fenigen Werk, auf deren sinnvollen

n Stt R. Wittkower: Jf,d;~..,.al Prill· npln ill the A~ oj Humall"m . London 1949. i9 We often hear that modern non-figura. tive 2rt represents the Einsteinian four. dimensional space-rime continuum. We should not take such .Il comparison too literally. as it is neither ne« u:>ry nor possible to present pbysicil theories in another language than thaI of physies iudf. We C:ln say. oowcYd' , that boclt the theory of rclatittity and madan art hue a common point of departure in the bet dl:lt the phenomena do DOt crist in isolalion, but relative to a sirw.tion . We thenfore no longer KCept the idea of an absolute and infinite tri-dimensional space, and modern painting exhibits a ' rdatitte ' space which cannOt be described sterecmeu kally. $0

A~u,

See E. Panofsky: M~rm;"g i" the Vuual New Yod: 1955, p. :z6.

. 1 ' Naturalistic art '. tberefoee, is no unittOUI concept. A scientific description is just as ' naturalistic' :IS a phowgra ph, and CTidcntly there eaist an infinite number of pon ibilities for equivalent but d ifferently oriented descriptions.

82 Wijlfflin : op. cit.

10

Zusammenhang und innere Funkt ion. 83 The: method of structural analysis has shown us the inadequacy of the absolute: descriptive categories of the past. It has even shown that the same work of art may have several 'formal levels ' governed by different structural principles, and that each level may have a dual or plural structure. &4 We: will later return to these problems in connection with form in architecture. T he method of structural analysis may be further elaborated and refined by means of information theory. n As we: have seen, information theory defines a structure (a system) in terms of the probability of sign-combinetions. Any sign is related to the others within the system by varying degrees of probability. If only the most probable combinations appear, the work lacks originality and corresponds to the: norm we usually call ' the style'. Less probable combinations define the originality of the work relative: to the style. 86 Before, the successful work of art was supposed to coincide with the style, and one discovered with some surprise that this ideal led to a dry and academic art. Today we recognize the underlying misunderstanding of the role of norms. While a style, so far, has been defined in terms of a few particular formal traits common to a number of works of art, we should rather let' style' imply the formal probabilitystructure of a symbol-system. The work of art has to express itself withi n the limits of the norm , but without reducing these to a few self-evident principles. · 7 Artistic originality always has to be ' measured ' relative to the style. It is a well-known fact that a work of art may be experienced man y times without losing its import. T he information is not eliminated by our knowing in advance what is taking place. We therefore obviously experience the message relative to the style and not to our own expectations. In this the work of art differs from cognitive: messages. A concretization may be experienced over and over again, whereas knowledge is imparted once for all. We have defined 'style ' as the formal probability-structure of the symbol-system. As the symbol-systems reflec t the purposes they have to serve, we understand that the style manifests social and cultura l objects independently of any particular work of art. 88 Symbol-systems have a varying capacity of symbolization and may thus be considered more or less valuable. The same holds true for the individual work of art realized within a symbol-system. It is therefore a basic misunderstanding to believe

7°

53 I I. Sedlmayr: • Zum Degr iff der Str ukluranalyK ' , in Kn'titCM Bmdllr, 193(0-2 ,

p. ISO, &-! H . Sedlmayr : ' Zu einer OO'engo:n Kutl otwiuenschah', in X ..,utwissnudlljtlicM For_ leI".", I , Balin 1931. p. 7]. Also H , Sedlmayr : K.. ,u! u" iI W. ,I,r! tit, Hambu.rg 1958.

.5 As far as we k llOW , this hi onl y bttn utilized by L. B. Meyer in bis excellent writ_ ing\ : Emotio1l II" J MCllni"g in M~, Chicago 1956; • Ma ning in Music and Infomu. lion Th eory' , in Journal of Aut! a ics imJ Art CriticUm, JUDe l'fil (Vnl. XV, NO.4); ' Some Remacks on Value and Greatn ess in Music ', ibid. , June 1959 (Vol. XVII, NO. 4). 56

83 84

85

Heyer : Emot;on. .. , p. 32.

S1 A full break with the style is impossible, a. this would deprive the work of aoy i nforma tion value, Brunellescbi'a • creation ' of the Renaissance style in Florence shortly after ' 400 was ponihle becam e of the T uscan 'proto-renaissance". The form s of Brunellesehi were not 'completel y new ' , but connected with certain aspects of the local tradi tion. Th e quick spread of the new style was possible because Brun ellescbi immediately formulated a consistent s~l"lD., cealizing its most probable strucrures and thereby auting a d imension of compari son for the whole later dcvelopm etll. ~ also m , 3. t>oIe 1J4. " We may foe Instance experience the geometry of the wor ks of art of the Renaissance as a symbol of the cosmic harmon y.

that all works of art are •equally good ' . T his idea is a product of the lA rt pour I'Art attitude and the general levelling of all values . Artistic meaning thus is ' measured ' relative to the probability structures we call styles. But we should also notice that the single work defines its own individual probabilities. This is particularly evident in music, where the opening theme 'determines ' what may or may not follow. Corresponding conditions can be found in the other arts. The style thus conditions the form in general, while the theme determines the individual development of the single work. In both cases the meaning is a function of the deviations from what is most probable, brilliantly labelled ' designed uncertainty ' by Meyer. 89 From this we understand that the experience of a work of art presupposes that we know the style, that our expectations correspond to the probability structure of the symbol-system in question. Very often the experience is hindered or distorted by the lack of such a correspondence. '10 Again, this emphasizes that it is a misunderstandi ng to believe that work s of art from any epoch may be experienced ' spontaneou sly' . 91

The study of artistic forms and contents is not complete until we have placed these two aspects in relation to each other and clarified the generally neglected semantical dimension, The artistic problem proper consists in concretizing a content (an intermediary object) in another medium, and the scmantical aspect therefore is of central importance. How may the concretization take place? The answer above all is suggested by the term . struct ural similarity ' , If the artistic symbol has a structure corresponding to that of the content, the semantical contact is established. Charles Morris has introduced the concept ' iconic sign' to cover this case." It may be illustrative to mention that the same idea is taken as a point of depart ure for the analysis of handwriting, by assuming that the •structure , of the calligraphy reflects the motoric behaviour of the writer, which again is functionally connected with his inner state. The psychologist Arn heim discusses this problem in detail and maintains that we have the best reasons to assume that particular arrangements of lines and shapes correspond to particular emotional states, 93 Or rather we should say that particular structures have certain limited possibilities for receiving contents, We do not play a Viennese waltz at a funeral. T he structural similarity only

7'

89

M~r~r :

' M~~ nin g

in Music.. . ' , p. 419.

90 Meyer borrows a ter m from irtlmmalioll th=ry and t;llks about ' cultural noise'. 91 In experiencing mu sic w~ ~lIcou ntl'r a difficulty. Th ~ musical score is not a wurk of art in Ih~ sam~ w~y a, a build ing or a p;!inting. It i, only a more or l~ .. , aliso f:lCtlIry r~pr=ntation of the real artistic phencrnenon, and hu to "" 'intl'rprct ni ·. The inte rpretation requests certain de viations from whn i§ printe d (such as ' ru b.alo' etc.j. This does flO! man. however, that these deyiation~ ' are' the: work of .:lr t, :as maintainnl by Ehren ~w~i g (op. cit.) . p~r tie u la r

9~

Morris : ' Eting.weigh ing-]", employs a d itfu'IC sp:ta: concept and makes the mean ingleu .UtCmenl that • , .. the appearance of our vi.ual world ha , on e dim ension only. i. e. deJ'lh ' (p. 32).

In architectural theory there is no reason to let the word ' space' designate anything but the tri-dimensionality of any building." But it is not said that this property is always of architectural importance. Expressions like ' spatial experience ' or ' spatial effect' should therefore only be employed when the stereometric volume is of decisive importance. It is not practical to distinguish between "physical ' and •architectural' space, but only between physical space and architecture , The organization of the physical space enters as an intentional pole in the architectural concretization. We thus maintain that it is convenient to employ a narrow but precise spa~ concept which denotes the tri-dimensional organization. Before we investigate its possible differentiations, however, we have to take a look at some of the more valuable cont ributions to the development of the form concept in general. The first important step was taken by Paul Frankl. 55 Frankl tried to establish a conceptual scheme for the analysis of architectural compositions introducing terms like ' space-cells.' (Raumull~n) and ' mass-forms' (Kor· p~rformcn). T his presupposes a purely quantitative spa~ concept; space is something that can be measured, divided and added. Frankl was thus the first to attempt a description of the important physical space relationships in architecture. He does not talk about experiences, but describes in an exact and pertinent way how architectural totalities arc organized. 56 The two basic concepts employed by Frankl, are 'addition ' and "division' . While the buildings of ~' O: Renaissance may be understood as an addition of independent clements (s}-ice cells, limited surfaces and defined masses), the Baroque deprives the pal ': S of their independence by assigning them a form which appears meaningless in isolation. In Baroque architecture the totality is given ' in advance' and ' divided ' afterwards. As we understand it, Frank l introduces the numerical and geometrical relations we have discussed above in a new way. Instead of losing himself in abstract mathematics , he refers to concrete architectural Gestalten. H e also introduces concepts like ' row' (Rdh~) and •group ' ( Grupp~) to designate different types of formal structures. Such rows and groups can be ' open' or ' closed ' , and may result from the operations of addition and division. Finally he uses the words ' interpenetration' (Durchdringung) and ' fusion ' ( V~rmisch u n g) to express that the elements arc melting together. 57

97

'l-4 Some writers have cmplo~ the concept of ' £our -dimensionl l sp;>«' in connection with Hchitectunl problems. Zevi thu s writes : ' ... b mente dell'uomo scopri me . oltrc Ie tre d imen sioni prcspett iche, ne esisteya una qu aere." (op. cit.• p. 25) We haye maintained that the abstract physical concept of '.pace.time ' which rd er. 10 microcosmie and astronomical phenomena . has noth ing 10 do with the space of architetmr e. Th e att hitectur:d tou]ily poslOses an infinite nu mber of dimensioes,

55 P. Frankl : Di~ EIIlWickf"flllpIusJ~fl J" flr""~11 B""k'u-

kunst , Frankfurr/M 19II . 60 Brinckmann : BauJ:.unst.._. p. 73. 61 D.

Fr~y :

Gatik u" J

R~"iJJ4"a .

Aug.va· gl~id~"k" Ku" stwUu " sd aft , w tee 1949.

busg

'929.

and Gru" dk gu" i zu

ti,,"

61 Sec D. Frry : Grr." dl~gu"g ...• pp. 6, 80 if. Frry defines the W~g-Motj" relative 10 a beholder , as an apm.encc , but th is is not neasury. Th e successicu nn very well be d.,.rnbcl as " purdy formal property . 6)

12

For insu llCC in Palladia' s Villa RotOnd.:! .

terminate a spatial succession. " In general we may say that the studies of Frey show that it is not enough to describe the indi vidual forms as such, their position in the system must also be indicated. Prey's concepts not only open interesting new possibilities for the description of the architectural form , but also establish a contact with the' meaning' of the work of architecture (see note 90 for Frey's definition of the architectural totality). T he conceptual schemes of Frankl, Frey, and Brinckmann show that the formal analysis can and should become more exact and complete than the theories of proportion and the diffuse space concepts allow. Thus we have to describe the stcrcometrical form of the spaces and masses as well as the character of the bounding surfaces. Furthermore, we have to render an account of all the different possibilities for the formation of rows, groups and hierarchies, and of the ordering principles they stem from (addition-division, simultaneity-succession etc.). T his leads to the demand for a systematic theory of architectural form, which incorporates relevant information from psychology. system-theory and informatio ntheory. The first attemp t in this direction is due to Hans Sedlmayr. 6'i Sedlma yr takes Gestalt psychology as his point of departure, and stresses constantly that the parts have to be u nderstood as functions of the whole, and that any work of art results from a ' basic formative prin ciple ' . 66 H is book on Borromini illustrates this view. The investigation starts wit h a formal description of Borromini's principal' architectural Gestalten'. Space-form, space-boundaries, vertical organization, and particular elements of impartance (such as the usc of the orders) arc described and are unified in a conclusion defining the formal structure as consisting of "relief-units " (Rd i( f( inh( ilm ) 61. T he properties of these units arc examined in more detail, with the result that they have certain possibilities of variation. They may also be employed in such a way as to create an ambiguous form. Furthermore Sedlmayr explains that the formal structure may have several . levels' (Schicht(tJ ) at which different formative prin ciples are reigning. The spatial composition may. for instance, exhibit a type of order different from that of the boundaries. He compares this state of affairs to the distinction of •melody" 'harmony' , and ' rhythm ' in music. No T he formal 99

38

S4 ' Die indische Weg-Form i.! be. tirnmt durcb d:I.. L'mwandc1n und Umkreisen des Males. ' (D . Frey : G,u "dl~grmg ... , p. 1 0~) 6S s.,e H . Sedlmayr: Vir A ,....},it....kl u. 80'romi" iz. :1-. Aufl., ~{ iindt en 1939: Dir £"1_ ttC}," "K der Kal},rJ':orberg-Schub : • Nervi _ ingeniiir ellef ;If. kiteh " , in Bygge1(unsr, NO.2, T¢:1.:n1/on of the architectural rcrality. It is also valid when applied to uc_ banistic units. 80 Usually w e em distinguish between an •external' :Illd :In • intern al' spu e. In present. day n chitccruce the boundaries between these .paces are oftcn ambiguous nr indefinite. T he last case, however, is :lIso open to exact analysis. 8\ Th is, however. does not entitle us 10 characterize one .izc :II m"", ' human ' than anot her. The word ·foot ·, for inn ance. does nOI m er to a human propcny as maint:Linffl by Ra,mu,sen (op. cir. , p. 12.{), bur deno mi_ nares a pracr.ie:ll rool for mea'urement!..

31

this is carried beyond certain limits. A square room measuring 3 x 3 metres surrounded by closed walls 2 metres high, may with justification be treated as a •space-cell ' which could be unified with other cells to form a spatial composition. If we increase the dimensions to 300 x 300 metres, the formal conditions will be completely different, even if we increase the height of the walls proportionally. 12 We have to infer that the validity of any formal system presupposes a particular scale. Empirical insight shows that the change of the formal properties relative to the size is not continuous (this would in reality make any order impossible). Instead we find that some systems have a large: range of validity, others a more limited one. Buildings normally belong to the same general group. whereas larger lay-outs and urban units demand a certain revision of the formal principles. IJ Finally we have to mention that the incorporation of plastic arts, of ornament and other types of decoration has to be considered both under the functional and the formal dimension. H For the architectural form, decoration is of decisive importance. Through decoration a plastic form can both be accentuated, or on the contrary assigned a mere surface-like character. 15 T he decoration may also indicate how the form as a whole should be interpreted. " We may conclude that a description of the architectu ral totality has to be carried out by means of three basic dimensions : Building T ask, Form , and T echnics. Th e classification is not very original. but we hope in this study to define the categories more precisely than it has been done previously. " It is also imperative that we investigate the interrelations between the dimensions. How is it possible to represent a building task through a formal structure, and how can the form be • translated ' into a technical solution? Th e architectural totality is completely described when we also have answered these seman tical questions. M Th e semantical dimension thus covers the changing relations between the pragmatical, formal, and technical aspects. A typical way of organizing the architectural totality, we will call an "architectural system ' . Thus we may talk about ' the architectural system of the early Renaissance' , as well as about' Brunelleschi's architectural system' , The word' styl( ' will be used to designate a characteristic formal organization. It is essential to realize that the

'°4

82 Th i, does not ;.n ply th ~t ih~ b5Ut th~[ size form' an in~gnring p~rt of the fw m . T he size i. described in trrms of ~X:l(1 dim~nsions of comparison. ~ntul

83 Th e extre mely extended centre of Ch~ndi· g:orh as planned by Lc: Corbu,kr, seemingly stands in contr~5t to ~II lr:Hiitionai priociples ot city-planning. 3'4 In th~ pan .uc h Ges""" k""srswrke wrr e normal. Today the integration of the ant is much dUcuuN, but SO far no convincing tol ution has been found .

81 Vogt-GOknii (op. cr., pp . 80 fl.) mainth~1 the "aarrcw ' .~ of Romanesquc ~ch.itceturc mult from the heuy man-fonm of the space houncbries.. She forgets, however, ~l the surfaces of the g cmanesque churches were painted. in .uch ~ way th~l this inter pretation becomes irrelevant . tains

2S

66 For instance in :!>fichcla.ngd o·s Cappella Medici .... hc:r ~ a . enical addi tion of three zones correspond s to an iconographic di.ision. (See C. Norberg-Schulz : .l.ficJ,rl""gelo ...'"

""'kitekt, Oslo 1!)5S). 19

11

In principle

o:at~gories

n cormponds

.. tilittu,

tI'0 have the farms and fishing villagn of Southcrn Europe.

98

1

reasons. First ly one admires pnmltlve architectur e because we ourselves have lost the ability spontaneously to find the adequate expression for a building task. Secondl y we want to be democratic and maintain that the simplest hut is just as importa nt as the cathedral. If we assert that architectur e has to participate in a symbol-milieu, however, we have to reject the one-sided worship of primitive architecture. Without negating its positive qualities, we have to recognize: that it stems from social conditions completely different from our own. What has been said above implies that society puts forward tasks which are not only added to each other, but which form struc tures where some tasks' dominate ' the othe rs. T he architect has to adjust himself to this state of affairs by employing more or less neutral forms, and by introd ucing • themes' which represent particular tasks. Also in our time the task s which directly serve the community have to be leading. W e do not primarily think of the places of work but of the buildings which serve the social life. This demand is not arbitrary, bur follows from contemporary sociological insight. Today social life lacks coherence and meaning. " We should therefore remember that architecture not only forms a frame around existing activities, but that the frame may create new activities, that architecture reacts on society and may help in creating a richer fellowship. One migh t question the criter ia we have for defining the needs of the society. We have, of course, to consult sociology to understand the shortcomings and to be able to define the measures which may produce an improvement. Morris, for instance, shows that the inhabitant s of large cities are more passit ,~ than those living in villages and small towns. ~ I If we want to fight passivity, we should therefore have to give the large cities a different structure, and we should make use of experiences from the smaller urbanistic units for this purpose. T he recognition that certain urbanistic characte ristics have an activating effect has led to the idea of splitting the large city into , neighbourhoods". In our time the verbal aspect of hum an comm unication has come to dominate in such a way that we tend to forget that we have other means at our disposal. T he solution of any complex problem is attempted through conferences and discussions, while the physical planning which should

M Giedion: Sl Morris:

Arch il~kwr

Vari~ti~s

G~t>1~;IJJc"afl .

,,,,d

of Human

V"lu~,

p. 83.

--:

react on the psychological and sociological situation, is unsatisfactory and fragmentary. The neglecting of the non-verbal dimension has made us so blunt that we accept any work of architecture if it functions in a tolerable way. even when a more careful analysis would show that it only satisfies the most banal needs. This •vulgar-functionalism ' even enters when architectural competitions have to be decided. The situation is very unfortunate as architecture increasingly dominates our physical environment and influences us more constantly than any verbal symbolsystem. Language belongs to the means of communication we may switch on and off at need, while architecture forms a part of the permanent milieu in which our activities take place. U Feeling this fundamental social and cultural importance of architecture without being able to realize meaningful solutions, one has today seen the reduction of architecture to a lower status as the only way out. Only by means of a full understanding of the tasks may we find the means relevant to their solution. It is more important for the result to put correct questions than to give correct answers to wrong questions.

13°

8:: Ruesch

&. K~, :

op. cit. , p.

!J6.

have to talk about -space-boundary ' (Rattmgr~nu), ' mass-boundary ' (MasJ~ngun u) , and in general ' bound ing surfaces' ( Gr~n zflikh ~71) . The word 'mass' denotes any tri-dimensional body, while the word ' space ' denotes a volume defined by the bounding surfaces of the surrounding masses. In both cases We have to do with measurable physical entities. As an architectural ' mass-dement ' we denomi nate a body which is separated from its environment in such a way that its extension can be described by means of a Euclidean co-ordinate system. ' The first qualification of a mass, hence, is topological concentration. A mountain is a mass in this sense of the word, as well as any block of stone. As a criterion for the concentrat ion of a mass (its •figure-character "), we will take its ability to join other masses. We have seen that the straight line stems from the operation' to aim ' . A straight line and a plane surface, therefore, define directions which point outside their origin. The closed curve, instead, returns to its starting point. T he sphere, hence, has a maximum of concentration, while the upright cylinder may be extended Gained to other masses) in one direction, and the lying cylinder in two. A cone standing on its base comes dose to the sphere in concentration, while the pyramid because of its plane bounding surfaces, is more easily joined to other bodies. A mass which is defined in a purely topological way by accidental curves may in prin ciple be adapted to adjacent bodies by changi ng the contour. The figure-character (Gestalt quality) is therefore in general stressed through g~om~lrizalion . with the sphere as the most forbidding and the parallelepiped as the most inviting of the elementary stereometrical forms. ' The figure-character of a mass-d ement also depends upon the constancy phenomena. A sphere is recognized regardless of our angle of vision, while more irregular masses lose their character whcn seen from certain view-points. Symmetry stresses the concentrated, in itself resting and complete form. For the concentration of mass-clements defined by adjoining surfaces it is of decisive importance that the corners should be inta ct. If two adjoining surfaces are treated in a similar way. the mass-boundary forms a continuity in spite of the corner and stresses the concentration of the mass. If, on the contrary, [he surfaces are treated differently, the continu ity disappears and the concentration is weakened. Th e same happens

134

, The Egy ~u n pyr3mid nnn plifin 3 m:ou·fonn.

38 39

39

40

41

pu~

7 Thllioro 01 the rrYss.-demems _

if the corner is broken through or made unclear. .' A round corner, instead, stresses the concentra tion. T he treatment of the corners, therefore, often determines our interpretat ion of the mass-form, and tells us if the building is intended as a massive block or as a juxtaposition of thin bounding surfaces. Openings in the bounding surfaces play a similar role. If they have niche-character they stress the massivity: if instead a pane of glass is Rush with the outer edge of the opening, the surface-character is maintained. The latter effec t is furth er accentuated when the window is subdivided by mullions, bars, or cames. If the corners indicate that the mass-form is made up of thin adjoining surfaces, while the openings suggest a massive block, we may characterize the mass-clement as contradictory. The size of the openings is also of decisive importa nce to the characterization of the mass. If they arc increased beyond certain limits, the mass \\;11 be tran sformed into a skeleton.' Relatively small openings (' holes"), instead, stress the massivity. Illumination, colour, and texture arc other important means to the definition of the mass-clements. Whi le one texture, such as a polished and rcficcring surface, can make the mass dissolve, another may stress its concentra tion. 10 T hrough an appropriate usc of colour a mass-clement may be separated visually from its surroundings. The light finally, ;. models' the shapes. A round column, for instance. gets a unifonnly increasi ng shadow which stresses its closed form. In Gothic architecture a small vertical profile appears, a •shadow-line ' which creates a sudden leap between light and shadow and tran sforms the mass into an abstract line. The treatment of corners and bounding surfaces is only important to the mass-clement itself. and to its relations to its immediate surroundings. In a larger context. such as a build ing in the landscape, the main form alone is decisive, with the treatment of the roof as a prime factor. Summing up, we may say that the mass..element is characterized by its topological-geometrical form. I I Rather than considering the numerical relations one might discover on measuring a mass, we maintain that the pregnant Gestalt is decisive. Thus we distinguish between a semi-sphere and a cube etc. II It is essential that the form should be pn:gnan t. Psychological experiment s show that we tend to overlook or stress irregularities. A deviation from the symmetrical or regular form has to be distinct to bc

135

42

. ~ In moder n ~ rch ;tec!Ure lhe m.l>~; v i t y il weakened by ~ vo;d ing closed corners. !olio VJn d er Rohe rarely uses tbe same mat erial in AdjOi ning surfKC1 . The m common to In the church racmble the Church of [he Hnly Grave in Jerusalem (lZd fONnIZ'" SIZfl('; s~ptllm' '~rosolimjlt hibition in ' 931. 51 We could imagine an ordrr lused upon formal elements which arc :m oc;alw with the urne sentiment•. Such a general • atm~phere ' i, typical of rom anti c m u.ic, The ...-dcr 0brained , however . is amorp hous aod of limited interest .

145

_

ducing two or more types corresponding to a hierarchy of elements. In classical Greek architecture the organizing relations are tied to the single building, while H ellenistic-Roman architecture knows more extensive compositions like fora, baths, and palaces. Only duri ng the Renaissance. however, did an undisturbed isotropic order become the ideal. ~9 Th e latter order has found renewed interest in our time, because the functions are no longer isolated. Th e relations between the elements arc usually more important than the clements themselves. T his is perhaps not surprising, as the clement is determ ined by its inner relations. In other words, the whole becomes more important than the parts, as soon as we can talk about a whole rather than an accidental 'aggregate' of independent units. A whole, on the other hand, is itself an clement in a wider context, and we understand that ' element ' and •relation ' arc interconnected aspects of the same object : the formal structure. T he architecture of the Renaissance and the Baroque' illustrates the clement-relation problem especially well, because the same basic elements arc related in varying ways. It is therefore necessary to have an experienced eye to perceive the seemingly small nuances in the architecture of this period. Th e example becomes still more interesting because the elements arc mainly borrowed from the ' classical' architecture of Antiquity. On should not forget, however. the role of the mediaeval tradition. Th e theme' classical architecture' therefore offers an ideal introduction to the basic problems of architectural form.

W Frey: COlik " 1/ J Re1/Jiu J1/u. o.

61 62

It is possible to eMfY through a S)·Sl~. matK exposition of aU combination. of ~I~_ mems.a nd reb tioru. Th is task, ho...~vef , bI b outside the scope of the present n ud)o . liO

71

F ORM AL STRUCTURE

We have already suggested that a collection of dements ordered by means of the proximity relation, form a ;. group ', while a collection of clements ordered by the continuity rd ation form a ;. row' . In both cases we arrive at forms or formal strucrures. Through different combinations of clements and relations We may create an infinite number of such structures. The combinations, however. follow determined principles which are functions of what enters the structure. We can therefore render an account of the general properties of the formal structure and give some characteristic examples. 60

146

•

T he group formed when a collection of mass-elements is ordered by means of proximity has a relatively low degree of articulation. According to everyday language we would call such a form a "cluster", 61 T he cluster may be geometrized and become a real group with co-ordinated elements. In the same way a topologically ordered ' row' may be geometrized. Finally we may geometr ize a topological enclosure by means of a point, a line, or a grid, and arrive at a circle, an ellipse, or a polygon. A cluster is always an ' opm ' form , as the d ements by definition are independent and ma y be taken away or added. A group, instead, can be open or 'cloud' . We have already introduced the terms ' centripetal' and "centrifugal' to cover this state of affairs. A cluster is not only geometrized by means of centralization, but may also be submitted to a co-ordinate system. In this case both centripetal and centrifugal formations are possible. A row may also be open or closed, while an enclosure by definition is a closed Icrm. " Rows and groups are additive or divisive, that is, organized from 'below' or from < above ' . Space-elements show analogous possibilities for the formation of rows and groups, and the same holds true for surface-elements. Clusters of mass-elements are normal in prim itive architecture , while space-elements only appear in isolation «artificial caves'). T he megalithic temples on Malta, however, contain rows. of compound space-elements. " In Mesopotamian architecture we may talk about dusters of parallel space-elements, while the mass-form is diffusely enclosing and shows a surface treatment which has no correspondence with the addition of spatial units. " Th e mass-structure and the space-structure thus do not have to correspond. Even today we often enclose complex groups of space-elemen ts within an encompassing ma ss. Sometimes the mass is articulated, without the spaces participating, on other occasions the opposite happens, or the two basic elements are combined in varying ways. In Egyptian architecture we find clearly defined rows of space-elements which are bounded by groups of masses. We realize that a geometrical grouping of masses (surfaces) necessarily produ ces a geometrical space. A topological grouping of mass-dements produces instead a topological space. As the topological grouping has 'no shape' (except for the proximity etc. of its elements), the topological space becomes an accidental

' 47

!

53

,2

61 rt would ohviously be practical to POSICOS a d ifferentiated common terminology wh ich covers all important architectur al form s. We will not. however, introdu ce too many COI'lcepe ill the prc...m U'

. l r UCIUfC

ii sltong at present. It has, howc'l""'!'. of l e D led to d iffuse: form s ra ther t han a real ccntinuity. Mies "an der Rohe has realized a $yn th~is of d early defined d emeDts and conl inuity. 9~ T he ed ation of succession imp!ic, that the ' &haufan ade ' of the Baroque form s an integrating part of the composition.

99 The add itive spatial structure. of the Rcnai" ancc demand a uniform illuminati on , while B:lI"l..q ue struc tures based upon dom i. nance :rnd contrast admit a morc ' dr amatic' illum ination. (See Fr ankl , Enl unckf.",gl ' p/'IUNJ.. .). 100 It would al$() be imanring to ineestlgate why some struetUl"CS support /'dti"... while othen. such as modern :archit«ture in gena-al , He more easily d isturbed.

7

Although this is a semantic problem, it has to be mentioned here because it illuminates the multiplicity of the formal structure. Often we change some structural properties through later modifications, while others arc left intact. A well-known example is how the projects of Michelangelo were changed by della Porta after the death of the former. Michelangelo planned the dome of St. Peter's as a relatively dark hemisphere. Della Porta rised the contour and let in light from above. 101 He thus changed certain aspects of the structure, while others were left as intended by Michelangelo. First of all, the dome is still a dome, and its urbanistic function is not essentially changed. Th e general organization is also the same. When we still say that della Porta gave the dome a new expression, this is due to the fact that the solution of Michelangelo possessed a continuous structure where every part was meaningful in relation to the whole. T o solve the riddle we have to consider both architects as authors, and we understand that architectural structures, because of their complex nature, may very well result from collaboration or •team-work '. This is hardly possible with a literary or musical work . Th e complex nature of the architectural form docs not imply a lack of coherence. In a ' good ' building the form is just as integrated and 'organic' as in other works of art. We should only realize that the form has to have a compound character because architecture is less specialized than the other arts. It is a misconception to believe that a richer form is created by •freeing' oneself from the principles outlined above. Instead one arrives at contradictions or at a general diffuseness. 10.1. We have seen that the meaning of an object consists in its relations to other objects, that is, in a structure. The meaning of an architectural element, therefore, also consists in its relations to other elements (and to its own parts, i. e. to its inner organization), and the architectural form is a complex of such relations, as described above. T he capacity of a formal structure, that is, its ability to receive contents, is therefore determined by its degree of articulation. A total lack of articulation is tantamount to chaos, but an exaggerated articulation will also end in confusion. This follows from the fact that a form has to generalize, it has to overlook certain shades to grasp the fundamental similarities. A language which offers a new word for every new situation is no language. Meaning presupposes the repetition of a

155

101 se e

Norh crg ·Seh ulz;

Mic!ld an;;do .•. ,

pp. 29 fl. 102 T hi, is th~ case in mu ch of tbe \0' organi. ' ucbit""mfc. \V b i l~ SuUi"an and Wrigbt introduced tb ~ tu m 'or.l: anic ' to de note an organized form al and sem iotic eohere n~, the term i. tod ay u(lcn uo;cd to oefend an arbi tra ry play w ith non -gc:tur., of the Renaissance the ' controlling ' m:oss i. ' d lXOJ;,. tro' witb ficti"", ordas wbich b;,.vc ;,. symboliting func. tion.

, compl icated affair. In any case we have to reject architectural theories which ' explain" the relation task-means in terms of a single principle. So far, we have only considered the building task and the formal structure. HO\v does the technical dimension enter the scmantical investigation? A technical solution is obviously never based on conventions. It is either satisfactory or not. 30 This means that causal connection and structural similarity are the only semantical relations possible in this context. Both form and technics arc abstractions from the total realization. Nor mally the building task is solved by means of forms which are realized technically 'afterwards' T he technical dimension, therefore, only symbolizes oia the form. 31 Even the demand fer physical control is satisfied via the form, as the controlling techn ical elements (' hirers' ) have to be ordered relative to each other. T he form can only be omit ted if we content ourselves with a solution which is merely technically satisfactory. l1 We should tcmember, on the other hand, that the formal structure is influenced by the technical possibilities; it does not make sense to invent forms which can not be built. In general there should exist a relation of structural similarity between form and technics. It is surely possible to realize an intended form by means of a technical improvisation, but we have already proved that the technical solution ought to have system-character, and we understand that a •sound' solution should employ a construction which possesses the formal properties needed. It is not always possible to fulfil this ideal demand. Th e Gothic builders managed •in spite of the stone', while other periods have only realized in part the correspondence between the formal and the technical structu res. In architectural history the technical dimension plays the role of an obedient servant who willingly abandons his honesty. When having to realize a formal structure technically, there arc usually several alternatives to choose between, which for their part contribute in different ways to the articulation of the form. As the form normall y possesses several levels, the technical realization often has to comprise several collaborating systems. We also know cases, however, where a unifor m type of construction covers all the levels. B A technical description, therefore, is not a substitute for the formal description. But it is often convenient to unify the two in accordance with their structu ral similarity. H

' 74

30 Thi s does not me~ns that me technical wlution i, univocal, M Ol[ tasks h~ ye "," Ycra! utilbetory 'olu tions. Among these lome may be . conventional' and other> 'radical'. This , of course, docs not imply that thc w oven· t io n ~ l solutions arc CO rL YentirL nal ,igTIJ. 31 Whcn we e Xp"rie rL~e a con,t ruction as "beautiful", we experience formally. Materi~h symbolize thw ugh their forma l pro perties.

l2 A [ ('eh llie~ lI y satL,fJClOr y ,olution, however . dOCI not necessarily solve thc build ing ta l k . Th is can only happen vi" the form .

33 Gmllic ~ reh itcctu re hal a high degree of u niformity, while the primar y constr uction of ~fies van d ec Rohe take, care of one level only. T he other levels ace ut i,ficd by ""cond · aCj' technical meal'll. J~ for insta nce by sa)';ng that • ~ regular steel skeleton give, order to the free plan . '

33

C.U.-\C ITY

In the previous section we have rendered an account of the relations between the dimensions of task, form, and technics. We still have to investigate the relations between the style, the collection of building tasks, and the technical means of an epoch. T he style is defined as a formal system, and we understand that it has to allow for a formal adjustment to all the individual building tasks of the period, at the same time as it should manifest the interrelations of the tasks. \Ve have seen that the interrelations of the tasks must be understood as a kind of 'higher ' , more comprehensive (c. g. urbanistic} task. T he style, therefore, should enable the solutions of the individual building tasks to present themselves as belonging to a general order which manifests the most basic functional, social, and cultu ral structures of an epoch. The main formal structures of a style, accordingly, should be correlated to particular building tasks. 35 T he unified character of the style is aided by the employment of one single technical system, but as different tasks demand varying degrees of flexibility, several technical systems are usually necessary. Modern skeleton systems, however, possess a high degree of adaptability. T he word •adaptability' leads us to the second main problem of the semanrical investigation : the capacity of formal and technical systems. In the previous chapters we have asserted that the capacity is a function of the articulation of the systems. A simple building task may be satisfied by a relatively inar ticulate form , while a task where the pole-objects are many and belong to different classes dema nds a correspondingly differentiated form . 36 An inarticulate form can only receive inarticu late contents. If the articulation is based upon probable combinations of clements and relations, the form will be capable of covering sereral contents with a certain degree of approximation. If, instead, the articulation is more: •special', the form may only be correlated to a correspondingly special content. J' A building task is especially importa nt if it can be understood as a •focus' for many aspects of the form of life. We have maintained that religion, philosophy, ideology, and art order individual life-si tuations into meaningful patterns, and also that certain life-situations focus the changing happenings of daily life. J8 Building tasks which are connected with such basic concretizations,

' 75

J~ We have a lread ~' mentioned rhat Alberti explicitly rut forw ard tllis demand . He thus wanted tu represent llle • perfect' religiou s conte nt by means of pe rfect forms, while the informal life lived in lhe countr y vilbs found its ex pre ssion in less regubr form s.

l6 Will~ D$lein : T r,ur'ltrll 3.13.

17 T he -embracing ' space of ~{io:s .-an der R~

is ....ulral in order 10 satisfy v:lrying

lalk,; .

Jl! T hese ,;;Iualion. arc ruhurally determined, but usually connected with Ihe decisive ph,lle' of huma n life. such as birth and death.

therefore, arc of decisive social and cultural importance, and demand a rich and articulate formal realization. 39 The capacity of an individual form has to be in accordance with the structure of the task in question, while the style integrates the individual forms in a more comprehensive system. In this way a continuity between ' higher ' and 'lower ' tasks is created, at the same time as all tasks are interpreted as aspects of the same form of life. An epoch, thus, is characterized by determined semantical correlations between classes of formal structures and tasks. Th e correspondence between form and task is rarely univocal. Th e same task can usually be solved by several relatively different means, which, however, ought to have a certain structural similitude (synonyms). 40 Analogously a form can receive different but related contents (homonyms). This 'vicariousness' (equivocality) is important because it implies that certain changes in the task may happen without necessitating radical formal alterations, and that certain formal experiments can be carried out without destroying the correspondence with the task-structure. The vicariousness, therefore, is essential for the historical continuity. We have also seen that the correspondence between form and task depends upon the scale. If a building task demands enormous dimensions, we may have to represent it in a way basically different from the representation of a ;. similar ' task demanding small dimensions. ~I In other words, the formal structures arc only J(mantical/y possible within certain dimensional ranges. When forms become very large. for instance, it is hardly advisable to carry out a uniform geometrical articulation, and accordingly we recognize the fact that topological relations have always been important in city planning. " The normal principles of architectural form, therefore, arc only valid within a certain 'human' range of dimensions. The limits seem to differ for mass-, space·, and surface-dements. The importance of the scale also implies that a style is co-ordinated with determined dimensions. H It is not possible to treat the problem theoretically in further detail, as it forms a part of architectural history. But the theory must put the problem, in order to escape the hypostatization of an absolute syntax. +! In general, semantics asks what a certain form means at a certain tim e. We may say that the forms possess symbolizing capacities, but they become

1]6

39 Thi $ e:r.plain~ why we dn nOl pby a Viennese wah z at a funera l. T he simple form of the waltz adapts ihel / to simple lile,itu atioM, while the funeral a~ a eentral , itcano n requi res a different form al ' frame'. I n general . the central concre tizatio ns dem and a ', ymphonie' form , which embrace' motives belongin g to the single everyda y situation' . A« ordi ngl y, we have to distinguish between perfection and grea/nus. A simple for m may be perfect, but never great. It is aloo meaningful to talk abou t great , but not entirely successful (perfect) works . (See L , B. Meyer: 'So me Remar ks on Valu e and Greatne.. .. . •• p. 499)· 4() The wor k of Michelangelo exhibits several for mally diffen:nt interp retations of a meaningf ul motive eompo~ of conll.icting rising and falling • movements".

~l For instanee. the small church and me eathl tools at his di spot.al which hav~ ~n d~vdoped on an historical basis. 2 Archit CClural criticism thus form s a

of architectural hi,to ry.

pari

indicates the intentional poles behind the existing solution, while criticism investigates whether the task has been defined adequately, and if it has found a semantically valid realization.

3 It ,eem, that Ihi, i, done on the basi. of the a" umpt ion that the technical problem, can be isolated, and that it is possible to g;ye architecture an objectiye technical foundat ion.

RESEARCH

1 We start , however, to grasp the general character of the problem .

Architectural research may, according to the theory, be divided into taskresearch, form-research, and technical research. We have already shown that the three branches are interdependent. Th e problems within one branch influence the others, and they ought to be studied with the aid of frequent cross-references. Such integrated architectural research is so far hardly existing, both because of the lack of a theoretical foundation, and because existing research specializes on technical problems," We will therefore indicate some of the problems which seem basic within each branch. The task-research should render an account of the components of concrete building tasks, and should integrate these as outlined in the section on ' the building task as a whole ' . The goal of task-research is to arrive at a basis for the definition of building programmes. In te past the building tasks were given as relatively fixed parts of the cultural tradition. Architectural history shows that the tasks were not defined in terms of physical control or physical fun ctions alone, but had the character of tota l problems. Th is ' qualitative ' or synthetic interpretation of the tasks has been destroyed by the pseudo-analytical attitude which has come to dominate today. Th e physical objects are more easily accessible to scientific analysis, while the information we need to approach the symbol-milieu is still only in part available. 4 Today, however, we may again start to aim at the definition of total synthetic tasks. Instead of grasping them intuitively, theoretically aided analysis offers an objective basis. This is needed, as the tasks have become ever more complex and varied. In the present situation it is of the greatest importance to restore the symbol-milieu, and task research therefore has to concentrate upon the psychological, social, and cultural problems connected with the organization of our environment. We have already mentioned several studies which give interesting contributions. 5 The investigation of the symbol-milieu should be correlated with the study of architectural form. It is very important, for instance, to render an account of the capacity of particular formal structures. The form-research, 210

5 Such a, the cX perimClIl, of Maslow and Mintz and the ecological research reprc, ellled in Scandinavia hy Gregor Paulsson.

therefore, should describe the ' effects' which result from the variation of space-form, materials, dimensions, illumination, etc. Such investigations are preferably carried out at a school of architecture, which has at its disposal architects, as well as psychologists, sociologists, and technical specialists who can plan the research and co-ordinate the results," T he first practical ' tool' needed is a very large room where full-scale models of ' abstract ' architecture can be built. Such models should be made of standardized elements which allow for flexibility and change. The study of the symbol-milieu may also take advantage of the insight into the relations between task and form offered by architectural history. To plan the experiments and interpret the historical material, information from auxiliary sciences such as psychology and sociology is needed. An independent investigation of formal problems consists in the study of the combination of elements to form Gestalten with defined properties. Furthermore one has to describe the probability-structure and possibilities for variation of styles. Th ese investigations may also employ full-scale models, but visual experiments as known from experimental psychology, graphical representations and small-scale models are more useful. When investigating forms and their milieu-function, it is convenient to vary one aspect at a time, while holding the others constant. In this way a full understanding of the role of the single factors becomes possible. T o define primary and secondary parts, it is practical to indicate what can be taken away without destroying the whole. 7 The form-research also has to utilize the infinitely rich material offered by architectural history, not only to supplement the ' laboratory' experiments, but also to help in planning the latter ones more conveniently. It would carry us too far to treat the technical research in further detail. We only want to stress that the system- aspect ought to be given more attention that has been the case so far. HISTORY

When developing our theory of architecture we mainly considered the individual work of architecture. The individual work, however, has to be seen in an historical context to be full y understood. Th e historical

6 We could for

~l w im ~gine

'p"ei.ol in.titute.

' m i l ieu -rese~rch ' .

'7 Jorgensen , Indl~dnitlg_ .. , p.

'ft.

context, on the other hand, results from kn owledge about single works . Generalizations made when analyzing a limited number of works are applied to other cases and may in this way be revised and refined. We therefore have to do with three interdependent constructs; the description of the single work , the historical development, and the architectural theory. A developed theory enables us to penetrate into the individua l work as well as the historical context. The analysis of the single work consists in the indication of its intenti onal poles and architectural quality, and in determining its historical position. The intentional poles arc not only formal, but also pragrnatical and semantical. The analysis has to be aided by several special investigations. Firstly, it is often necessary to know how the work was carried out from the moment the commission was given, through the planning of the architect, to the finished realization. Secondly, it is important to possess a chronology of related monu ments, where the work in question can be put in its proper place. Such a chronology should be something more than a mere series of dates. So far the dates have been supplemented with the history of styles and the history of technics. T heoretical insight enables us to develop these histories in a more precise way, at the same time as it indicates the need for a history of building tasks, a history of semantical relations, and a history of architectural systems. Architectural history, however, is not the history of the architects. " The monographical treatmen t of an architect only functions as a convenient sum ming-up of certa in historical phenomena. Rarely, however, does it grasp the essential historical conditions. 9 The history of the realization of the individual work has to be reconstructed on the basis of documents , preserved drawi ngs, and archaeological investigation. Among the aims of the last-mentioned is to find out if one part was made before or after another one. It presupposes technical and formal insight. 10 T he history of the single work may be controlled and revised by means of an analysis of its structural properties. A reconstruction of the origin al or intended state is done on the same basis . In general it is necessary to reconstruct the intended solution in order to be able to carry through a meaningful analysis. A chronology of monuments should not only consist of a collection of dated works, but should also compr ise surveys and other reproductions 2 12

g We have mentioned that several -l eading art historians have seen their main task as th e d evelopment of ' basic' stylistic concepu. Th is has often led to a neglect of the individual work of an. Reacting against this tendency, Zevi defines architectural history as a series of individual an alyses and monogr aphs on archit ects. This, however, is to go too hr in the opposite direct ion. as the ind ividual analyse, presuppose the historical constructs. (See Zevi; ' il,rchirett ura ' , in Encidopdia Unioersale dd/'Arl() . For a , urvey of "the methods used in art history sce G. Pauls'on : Ko,mhistoriu u For(m M, Upp, ala ' 943. 9 Th is only happens if the architect in q ue' tion playcd a leading role 1lI his timc. 10 Roman architectul e offers a f"'nicula r clue to the d ating of the monum ent', the brick ,tam p', Kahler (Hadrian und seine Villa) to a large extent bases his chronology on these.

(photographs ctc.). T he chronology is a necessary aid to historical research, but it does not offer any secure picture of the historical process, as related phenomena may appear at diDert nt times in different places. 11 Th e history of styles has to render an account of the development and succession of formal structures. It docs not only order the styles chronologically, but tries to show how they arise: and become ' worn out' . Periods of transition will be of special interest. 12 The history of styles presupposes an exhaustive understanding of architectural form. It may to a certain extent make use: of technical terms (such as 'beam' , "column" , etc.), and the history of technics, on the other hand, has to take the formal characteristics of the technical systems into consideration. Th e history of technics has to render an account of the materials employed, the methods of working the materials, the methods used when erecting the buildings, and the co-operation of these factors within the technical systems. B The history of building tasks forms a necessary part of a complete architectural history, and should also play an important role in cultural history. We have seen that the social and cultural conditions arc reflected in the building tasks, and because of the participation of architecture in almost all human activities, the history of building tasks may contribute substantially to the solution of general historical problems. T he building tasks are described by means of the dimensions outlined above) and hierarchies of leading and secondary tasks should be indicated. T he history of semantical relations treats the more special problem of the changing forms of representation (symbolization). Th e problem, however, is of central importance to the understanding of an epoch, and an architectural history omitting the semantical dimension would fall to pieces. It is fully possible to limit oneself to one of the historical disciplines outlined above. Because of the vast material, such a limitation is usually necessary. Th e special, limited investigations, however, will remain fragments if they are not unified in a history of architectural systems. Th is history has the architectural totalities as its subject-matter and causes architectural history to become a branch of the history of art. 14 We understand that all the historical disciplines are interdependent, and have to be regarded as abstractions from a complete, synthetic history 21 3

II An architectural hi,tory. therefore, can. not carry through a strier chronologieal pre_ senullion. 12 In times of tran sition what was self. eYideDt becom es p roblematic. and therdore subject to d iscussion and study. lJ A short survey is gi~n in H . Straub : Gudlidf/e de,- Baui"g~i~k"'UI, 1951 .

14 See

p.usi", .

Sedlmajr :

X..,," .."i W"Arhtit .

l ~ The Smlt wo,d s are often u~ . but witb different and iII-defi ncd meanings.

of architecture. So far the individual disciplines are only in part worked out, and we cannot expect to approach completeness soon, even if a large number of scholars should pool their results. The integrated theory of architecture, however, helps us to overcome this difficulty. Also, if the theory is based upon a limited amount of empirical material, we are allowed to believe that its main characteristics will remain valid when the empirical material increases. Because it interprets the problems which concern us as a logically coherent whole, it is capable of organizing the results of the single historical disciplines. T he theory, so to speak, acts as a co-ordinate system where the results are assigned their proper place. Slowly the puzzle becomes complete, and it is possible that this process will demand a certain revision of the co-ordinate system itself. Thanks to the theory we may therefore carry out meaningful architectural analyses and organize the results into an historical construct. As already mentioned, this is possible because the theory offers a common taminology where the terms have defined relations to each other. The terminology used today is incoherent, contradictory, and subjective. As an example we have referred to the misuse of the word •space'. T he co-ordination of the individual investigations is only possible by means of a developed terminology, and the solutions of the concrete problems outlined in this study is only possible with the aid of a common terminology. Th e establishment of a convenient terminology, therefore, is what is above all needed in the present confused situation. C R.ITICISM

Fruitful architectural criticism also presupposes a common terminology. Today criticism generally limits itself to the •judgement ' of more or less arbitrarily chosen properties of the work in question. It is not easy to ~mpare different criticisms of the same work, because of the dissimilar terms employed. l~ What the theory tells us about the architectural quality is of basic importance to criticism. T he semantical correspondence between task and means, for instance . is essential. A work of architecture is above all judged by investigating if the form ' fits' the task, or if the solution rather has to be characterized as •formalistic ' . If a satisfactory semantical 2 I4

2

99

correspondence is lacking, the criticism may be considered complete if it poinFs out this state of affairs. But if the correspondence exists, one has to go on investigating whether the task has been defined properly and the form articulated adequately. If the task is only in part defined, that is, if only some of the necessary poles arc intended, we have to reject the solution, even if it is cleverly done. This is often overlooked in presentday criticism, which considers the finished work from the point of view of l' An pour l'A rt, Th e criticism, in other words, should ask whether the solution is a real solution to the task in question, or if it is only more or less pleasant, but irrelevant. It is possible to consider the form separately if one knows the style it belongs to. When doing this, the solution can be characterized as contradictory, meaningless, or original. If contradictory dements arc present, the solution cannot at once be rejected. To judge it, we have to find out if this state of affairs is intended, in other words, if the formal contradictions manifest a conflict-structure inherent in the 52 building task. 16 Pertinent criticism is essential to sound architectural development, and the critic therefore has the greatest responsibility. He should be without preconceived ideas and possess a complete theoretical insight. The theory not only offers the terminology, but also the analytical methods needed. To conclude we may say that the purpose of architectural analysis is to investigate actual tasks and means, to furnish the historical insight we need to 'explain ' the architecture of other periods, and to solve our own concrete problems. It should also be mentioned that the analysis offers the basis for a judicious building-code. Th e building-code ought to facilitate the creation of satisfactory architectural totalities, rather than amputate the solutions through fragmentary regulations. 17 Th e legislation should not consist of fixed norms, but rather have the character of directives where the higher poles arc considered. In principle the regulations must be variable and interdependent, in accordance with the structure of the actual architectural system.

2 15

16 It may vary where it is convenient 10 start the analysis. It is essential that all the semiotical dim~n.ion ••hould be considered. 11 One should for instance talk about opti. mal light intensity in connection with d iffer~nt building ta. ks. nther than minimum window meaSUreS. Cily planning in p.articular ha. been unfortunalely hampered by Ihi. type of regulation.

4.

Education

It is natural to conclude our discussion of the applications of the theory of architectur e with a few words on the problem of architectural education. Architectural education comprises all the single problems we have outli ned. because it is obvious that the architect as a professional man has to possess a complete under standing of his field . T his does not mean

that he has to know all the facts furnished by historical and actual research. Toda y this knowledge has become so vast that it is hardly possible for an individual to master the whole field. Neither can we expect that the architect is automatically capable of solving every building task, or of judging every finished solution. But he has to possess the methodical insight which makes this theoretically 'possible for him. In other words, he has to have a full comprehension of the organization of his field, its types of tasks and means. In this way he can understand his own relatively specialized knowledge as a part of a more extensive context. The architect should know the general principles determining the activities of experiencing, producing, and analyzing architecture, which implies tha t he also has to know the integrated theory of architecture. T he architect is hardly able fully to solve any task without the general insight furni shed by the theory, both because architecture is a synthetical activity, and because the ind ividual building task forms a part of a hierarchy of tasks. l Only when seeing his field in this comprehensive way does he become a real professional. The architect cannot expect to be respected as long as he neglects his responsibility by permitti ng open conflicts between the different solutions. One of the most important insights offered by architectural theory is that a building task cannot be solved through intuitive improvisation. 21

7

I T his is obviously the WIle of afbirs Vi· truviu. had in mind when he requested th n the archi l«'t should posoeu me moot diverse quaii&atiom (I , I ). He oughl to be • a eraftsman, a ~I, d ytu.min , optics, and WlUstics equip h im 10 give life and shaf'C' 10 hii inner ,·i. ion . · (Gropius : Tran, lation of lJu und Au/btl.... .. ill Bauhaus 19/9" JS ,

P.

12).

(perception) and creative acnvmes (composition, representation). The elementary aspects of both parts were unified in an introductory course called Vorlchrc, which aimed at freeing the student from his pre~ conceptions and at the same time releasing his creative faculties. 10 Werkldzrc and Porm lehrc were co-ordinated through common tasks, and the goal was 'the collective work of art . in which no barriers exist between the structural and the decorative arts'. 11 Th e need for cooperation, therefore, was emphasized, and the individual was taught to understand his problems as parts of a wider context. 12 T he demand for industrial adaptation led to ideas like standardization and mass-production, ideas which are still just as valid. 13 We have to stress the wide-ranging influence exercised by the Bauhaus and point to the vast practical results attained du ring its relatively short life. With justification it can be said that the school laid the foundation for a new ' international style ' . 14 When the school was closed by the Nazi authorities, several of its leading members emigrated to the United States, where they went on working for the same goals. I' After the second world war the Bauhaus ideas were introduced in several countries. 16 At the same time, however, critical voices began to be heard. We may leave out the sentimental reactions which have always been present since the first days of the Bauhaus in Weimar, and rather take a look at the criticisms brought forth by certain of the members of the new H ochschule fiir Gcstalrung in Ulm. This school was founded after the last war as a ' New Bauhaus' , but it soon became evident that the Bauhaus methods no longer led to the desired results. 11 Th e spokesman of the school, Tomas Maldonado, points to the contradiction that the products of the Bauhaus have become museum pieces, while we still believe in the didactical principles from which they stem. I! Maldonado especially attacks the idea of ' freeing ' the individual's faculty of spontaneous self-expression through a Vorku r!. 19 H e emphasizes that the Vor kur! is the backbone of the Bauhaus tradition. But the Vor kur! has generally shown itself unable to adapt the individual to the real object world of our society, and may rather lead to a new formalism. Instead Maldonado suggests an education founded on the principles of scientific operationalism. H e proposes a replacement of the intuitive attitude by 2 20

10 Gropius : op. II

p.

2~.

Gropiul: op. cir., pp- 22-23.

12 Gropius : op. 1J

cn.,

As the

g OJ I

cu.,

P' 26.

Oeepius

ICes

'me greate. t

p'Sible stand ardization with the grea test PO" .ihle var iatio n of form ' , and the city should

censlst of 'form elements of typical shape repeated in .eries' (op. cit. , pp . 18.19)' H Gropius, howevcr, rejects the word , . tyle ' and talks instead about Ei"hdl in der Vie//olil . It i. here merely a que. tion of the choice of terms. (see S. Gicdion : ' Da. Bauhaus und seine Zeit ' , in Bauk.mil und WukJorm, No. a , 1¢ 2).

t' M Oil importa nt i. the foundation of the Chicago Institute of Design under MoholyNagy in 1937. 16 T he Bauhaus pril'lCiplcs were inU"od uced to the teachcn of the Scandi navian arts and craflS schools during II SU mmer COurK in

0 .10 in 1952. with four visiting from the Institute of Design .

i n>trueto~

.7 Sec C. Norbcrg.Schu!1: 'Ehperiln"nl i Ulm ', in Bygg"k" "st NO·3, 1959.

lA T . ~aldonlldo : ' Neue F.ntwicllungcn in '; er lndusc-ie und die Ausbildung deo Pmduklgestahcn', in UUI a, p. 38. 19 tobldon.ado: op . eh., p. 39.

an exact analysis of the problems and the means to their solution. He thus wants to give the dements entering the analysis concrete operational definitions. ~ Th e didactical philosophy of Ulm, therefore, is d ear enough : it is against art and architecture when understood as taste and arbitrary invention. It advocates instead a planning based on knowledge of man and society. Th ere can be no doubt that the criticism of Maldonado has some justification. At the same time, however, we need the experiences of the Bauhaus to develop a satisfactory architectural training. The programm e of the Bauhaus surely contained a basic contradiction, in wanting simultaneously to free the' self-expression ' and to create a new common formal language. T he wish for •self-expression' must be understood as a reminiscence of the first expressionistic phase of the school, while the later ideas in part stem from the influence of the Dutch Stijl movement, 2. We may also question the continuation of the training in the crafts after the realization of the importance of the industrial methods of production. But the contradictions arc overemphasized and partly misunderstood by Maldonado. Th e idea of freeing the individual can also be interpreted as a freeing of his faculty as a co-ordinator, that is, the ability to synt hesize and concretize the components entering the architectural totality. Gropius has over and over again stressed the architect's role as a co-ordinator and suggested that it is connected with his artistic faculties. T he integrated theory of architecture proves the correctness of the intuition of Gropius. But it is another question whether the concretizing faculty of the architect can be developed by means of the VOTI~h Tc of the Bauhaus, The VO TI~h T~ was determined only by the characteristics of the materials and the tools, Th U!J it easily degenerated into a ITt( play wi th forms. Th is was not due to basically wrong didactical principles, but followed from a lack of auxiliary_information from the sciences." Th e W ~TI~hT( and FOTm l~h T~ of the Bauhaus may therefore be considered as positive attempts at an improvement of the education. (On the basis of an integrated theory of architecture we should reinterpret the Wak1ehre and the Formlehre as •technical research ' and ' form-research' including practical exercises). T he Bauhaus showed an intuit ive understanding of the architectural totality and of the role of the architect. The time, however, was not yet 22 1

2tI

Maldcnado : op. cit. , p. 39.

!l $c,e G. Lindahl : 'Von der ZukunfukJ. lhcdn le bit zur Wohnm a5Chine,·. in ld~a a1lJ Forni, Figun-Xew &ria I . Stockholm 1')5 9. pp. :!60 ff. 12 .J,. corn:spondinR dCRcocn tion i5 found in the later pcnooal woek of Gropiu5 and urecer. T he lark of u p-to-date infonn ation bcromc:s evident in Gropius' obsolete tI"Catment of perceptual and formal problems un,it r the head ing ' Gibt es cine Wisseascbaft ,ler Gcstaltung ", in Arch ;t~kwr , pp. 26 IT.

ripe for the development of lasting didactical methods. " In any case, the Bauhaus cleared the way for an adequate education by abandoning obsolete principles and by indicating basic new problems. The reason why the methods have hardly proceeded beyond the Bauhaus since, is obviously the lack of a theoretical foundation which can bring order into the whole field. This is also the reason behind the lacking success of the Hochschu1e fur Gestaltung. The more 'exact ' attitude propagated by the latter school is not based upon an integrated theory and becomes just as arbitrary as the free play with forms at the school following the Bauhaus tradition. H T he school in Ulm , in spite of the criticism mentioned above, has also taken over certain didactical schemes from the Bauhaus. The education thus starts with a Gru ndlchre." and the workshops have also been inherited. T rue, the tasks are defined differently, but it is a question if the didactical changes are radical enough. Without losing the valuable insight gained by the Bauhaus, it seems necessary to get rid of the prejudice that the training has to be based upon an introductory course which aims at freeing the individual (Bauhaus), or perhaps at giving him a general background for his study (VIm). Just as unsatisfactory, of course, are the more conventional methods practised at most architectural schools, where the diffe rent subjects are taught in splendid isolation. Statics, technics, planning, illumination, form, etc. are still commonly taught independently, and without connection with concrete building tasks. Th e building tasks, furthermore, arc presented as conventional building types, without raising the question whether the types are satisfactorily defined. The general principles for the definition of tasks and for the articulation of forms are not studied. T he point of departure for an adequate architectural education naturally has to be the student's wish to become an architect. Th e student has to be trained in the creation and understanding of architect ural totalities, and nothing else. We have seen that such totalities are very complex and that they are characterized by the interdependence of their parts. Experience shows that it is impossible to grasp such totalities ' from below ", by learning something about their ingredients, and afterwards trying to combine these. (Today the student is even asked to create 222

23 ObY iou,l y the method s ha ve to be flexible ~nd ada pted to ch anging practical and social problems. This, however, doo nnt prevent them from always bdng based upon the lame general theory of architectu re. T he theory also warran ts that the didactical meth ods are not changed in 3D arbitrary way. 24 For instance the 'V isuelle Mcthodik' t , p. ~ .

described by A. Frolhaug in UL M 2~

See GNflldld lO'C in UL V I, p.

~.

r

totalities whose ingredients he has not yet heard about!) Th e first demand is therefore that the problems the students have to face shall be complete. From the very beginning the problems presented have to comprise all the aspects which characterize a typical architectural totality: building task, form, technics, and semantical relations between these factors. When solving the problem, the factors have to be considered simultaneously. The building task should be defined in terms of its physical and symbolic dimensions, and form and construction must be developed in accordance with this definition. Such a synthetic problem may seem insurmountable for a beginner, but well-suited possibilities really exist. As the first problem, for instance, we may take a cam p, where a group of persons shall exercise simple functions within an adequate ' architectural' frame. T he functions concern the individual as well as the group. T he elements making up the camp (tents, huts), should be solved within certain given technical limits (such as the materials available on the spot), and the elements have to be formed and grouped to fit their purpose. 26 Th e next step taken during the education should consist in the presentation of a second, more complex synthetical problem, until we reach the city and the region as the most comprehensive totalities. Thi s does not imply that the education should end with city-planning. We understand, on the contrary, that the urbanistic dimension is already included in the first problem. As the urbanistic dimension can be characterized as a unifying factor which orders the hierarchy of building tasks, it is essential that it participates from the beginning. Th e synt hetical problems also help to develop the student's ability to co-operate and to realize that the single task forms a part of a larger context. " What has been said above does not imply that the training only consists in the solution of a few synthetical problems. We have seen that the single dimensions of the architectural totality have a certain independence. It is possible to present certain technical and formal problems which are solved in isolation. But it is important that these also are related to synthetic problems, to make the student understand that they mean a continuation of problems connected with a concrete architectural totality. Th eoretical insight which is transmitted verbally also becomes alive when related to an architectural totality which the student

t

26 Th is [~s k h ~s I,.,m prop"'Nl by H . Ry_ varden , a Torndb eim archite 183, 184, 199

.,

Sangallo, A. da: 152, Fig. 80 Sangallo, G. da : Fig. 44 Scale: 103, 104, 152, 176 Schema: 41 iI., 48 s., 51. 74, n. 78, 183. 1¢

24°

Schinkel, K. F. : 17 Schlick, M.: 80 Schmarsow, A.: 95 Scholfield. P. H. : 91, 92, 93 Schonberg , A. : 159 Science : 43. 46, 51, 54, 61, 62, 64, 66, 81, 82, 170 Sedlmayr, H . : 17, 20, 69, 70, 85, 88, 99> 100, 102, 107, 1Ig, 124. 126, 127. 128. 139, 150, 158, 169, 171, 172, 213 Self-expression : 20, 68. 187. 221 Semantics : 59, 71. 88. 104, 107, 16] If., 176 Semant ical relation : 107. 168 fl. Semiotic : 24. 56 If.• 101 Semper. G.: 102. F ig. 27 Siegel. C.: 161. 165 Sign : ,38. 53. 56, 59. 60. 63 Similarity : 43. 142 Simultaneity: ga. 154 Situation: 21. 32. 35• .p. 43, 48, 50 Size : 93, 103. 104 Skeleton : 135, 162, 163, 164 ff.• 205, Fig. 92-0 93. 94, 100 Smith, E. B. : 88. no, 124 Socializ.ation : 37 fl. Social milieu : 11 2, 114. 118 fl.• 123 Society: 15, 16. 17. 37, 490 III , 1290 186 Space : 19, 46 fl.. 55. 69. 86, go. 95, 96. 97, ga. 100, 101, 103, 104. lOS. It4 ' 133. 136 fl.• 1-44. 147. 182, 2OS, Fig. 45. 47, 48 Spirit : 82 Stan dard : 39. 2fYJ Status : 118, 1]2 Str nad, 0.: 117, Fig. 27 Str ucture : 53, 50, 70. 73. 99, 100. 146 fl ., 154. 199 Stru ctural anal ysia: 69, 99. 100, 102. 10'" 180 Structural similarity: 57. 71, 168. 169, 170, 173 Structural skeleton: 46, 139, 145, Fig. 7 Style: 17,65,7°.71. 102, 104, 106, 145. 149> 156 f1., 175 Stylistic development : 158, 159> 183 Successicn : 44, 96, 98, 141, 145 Sullivan, L. H. : 88, 155 Sumer: 58. 110 Surface : 95. I02. 133, 134, 137 fl., 147, Fig. 44 Symbol ; 56 fl.• 202 Symbolization : 57, 77, »s Symbol-milieu : 88, IU, 114' 112, 16 214, 218. 224 Tbcugbe: 62 T opology: 44. 45 Topological relation : 115, 134. 135. 139> 145. 147, 148, 1]0, ISs, Fig. 61 Tradition : :23, 159, 160, 188, :206 Truth :6f Ut ilitarian architectu re : Utzon, J.: F ig. 102

ISs

Value : 14, 39, 49> 64, 68, 73, I l l, 188,20:2 Var iation: 46, 153, 187, :207 Visual order; 13. 24, :20:2. 207 Visual traini ng : :23, 4:2, 197. 199 Virruvius : 88, 91, 92, IQJ. 1°4, :217 Vcgr-Gokn il, U. : 69, g6, 104 Wachsmann, K.: 165 Wall : 137, Fig. 43 Werner, H. : 48, 49, 80, 153, 159, 170 Wertheimer, M.: 34, 45 Whitehead, A. N. ; 82 W hole : 34, ii. 99 Wie~r, N. : 160 w lugenseei n, L: 29> 34, .p , 50, 51, 57, 6}. 105, Wiukower, R. : &), 87, 88, 89, 91, 92. 93, 100 Wolffl.in, H . ; 23, &), 95, 133 Wright, F.L. : 144. ISS, :206, Fig. 66

' 75

Zc"i. B.: 19> 86. 95, 96, 97, 203. :21J Zimmerm ann, D. : Fig. 43

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,

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Illustrations

1. VISual chaos. Times square in New Yo rk.

2. Devaluation of hist ori cal fo rms . I nsane Asylum in Utica (NY). (After H .-R. H itchcock: .Artbitecture of tbe Nineteenth and Twentieth Cen I u r i es, Harrnondswor th 1958).

3. Towards a new formal "vocabulary", House in tr echt by G. Rietveld (1924). (After Joedicke).

4. Devaluation of modem forms. Apartment house in Ro me (1962).

5. Th e illusi ons of K un dr and Mu llcr-L ycr .

•• • ••

o

0

0

o

o

o • o

•

Similarity.

Proximi ty.

• • •

•• 0

LL: 0=.

r

-,

L

-l Inr erpenerraring figures Inrerprered 'correctly' and •....r on gly·.

Con tin uity.

Figure-ground.

6. Ges talt laws.

7. The ' structural skel eton' of a sq uar e. (Afrer Arnhc:im).

Orientations Cogn itiv e

Cathe ctic

Physical

Soc ial

Cult ural

8. T w o cu bes. (Aft er Koffka).

9. O b jects and orientations.

10. The rel ati vity of repro ductio n. (After Arnhcim),

Evaluative

11. Drawing by Francesc o di Gio rgio.

j

12. PalJadio's Villa Rotonda.

13. The geom etri cal scheme of Bo rromini's Sanr'Ivo. (Aft er Benevolo).

..,

:

II

1.1.3 9 7

• 1

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~-

7

~ L-:' ~1

.

, ,----~

'0

I L

'

14. Pr oportional analysis after Thiersch.

15. 'Le Modulor'. (Mtcr Lc Co rbusic r).

16.

ddi tion of geometrical units. in Flo ren ce by Brunellcschi.

// t--

. Lo renzo

r:

~ t--

~

l-

17. The ' wall-theme' of A lberti's Sane' Andrea with variations, (After Norberg-Sch ulz).

I-

-

t - - - ,......-

~

~ ~

18. Brunelleschi: Sagresria vecchia in S. Lorenzo.

19. l\lichc1angelo : Cappe lla Medici.

Division,

Addition,

Addi tiTe group. open.

.\ddiLive row , open .

20.

Interpenetration

Addirive mlUp. closed.

rrucrural relations according to Frankl.

N'

N'

21. Borromini: S. Carlo aile quartro fomane. Interpretation of the plan according to Sedlrnayr.

22. Interior of S. Carlo alla quattro fonrane.

~ -,-----

23. Le

orbus ier: The civic centre of Chand igarh,

24.

Iesop otamian huts. (After Andra e).

5

25. T rova

(Mt~r

n. aumann).

Connec to r. ----

Filter. Ba rn er .

--t-

-t -

Switch ,

Switch,

Switch,

FunaionaI zones with coonecting filters.

'Filter' symbols.

The functiorul zones of a sim ple dwellin . : Living, Kirchen, Sleep ing. H ygiene,

Planning level s.

26. Analysis of physical control and functions .

... .

... . ;:II,

-"-----~_

-

Orange.

Pro ject hy Oscar Ephesos,

.-

---, Dresden (Semper).

27. Theatres. (After Fre y).

trand.

28. E nclosure. The houses built recently outside the city-wall have a disturbing effect. Giglo Castello, Toscana.

29. Priene .

30. PeriJ/.)'IIIn; of D ioclctian's palace

in Split. (After Ka hler) .

31. The Roman Panth eon.

32. T he Palcochristian basilica. s. Crisogono in Rome .

33. The cathedral in Amiens .

tI

34. The dO/film of Man e- Kerio ned , Carnac, (Aftrr Eneidopedia Uniuersale del!' .Arte} ,

35. Etruscan do med tomb with central pillar. T omba di Casale Maritti mn, Musco Archelogico Flo rence.

36. Towards arti culation. T he Tomb ofHal SaAieni, Malta , (After Cescbi).

37. Le Corbusier : Notre D ame du Haut in Ronchamp.

38. The pyramid of Caius Ccstius in Rome.

O

~ L-)

t~)}

~

I

39. Mass elements.

40. Symmetry.

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. ,",

.. •

•

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0

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41. The cube as a funcrion o f its bounding surfaces . B o rr o m i n i : Pabz:zo di ProfUJ,=