Transparency in Architectural Terms

Based on the readings, there are two types of transparency: literal and phenomenal. The meaning of transparency that these two articles focus on is the simultaneous perception of different spatial locations. Basically, this definition plays with the depth of our perception and which object we perceive first as they simultaneously seem to occupy the same space, though we know, logically, that one is in front of the other, or rather, that there is a hierarchy that may not be perceived at first glance but must be searched for. The idea of transparency is a result of the cubist movement given that many of the artists that created “transparent” pieces had studied cubism.
What I find really interesting about this movement is that it can actually be perceived holistically in architecture; that is, it is present in buildings and can be seen without the “eye of an artist.” Within architecture, the idea of transparency is present in that at different times, different layers can be perceived more strongly than others, though all are present to the observer simultaneously. The depth of perception, then, is created by a shifting of hierarchies within the building’s organization and/or façade. This also relates to the perceived geometry and symmetry of various facades of Le Corbusier including his villa at Garahas and his Algiers block.
This is one of the first times I have felt like I fully understand how this artistic movement relates to architecture and what it actually implies. I can see how perception plays heavily into how we see an object and that from different angles or even changes in lighting an object can appear to be in the foreground or background. This perception is our mind playing tricks on us based on conflicting visual data. Based on this, I think that transparency is an individualized process and one person may see one thing while another in the same viewing location may see another. Maybe I’m getting too literal…..maybe I don’t understand this at all, but I really hope so.

Quote:
“the capacity of figures to interpenetrate without optical destruction of each other.”

"We shape our buildings; thereafter, they shape us."

I have always enjoyed thinking about how someone might move through my designs in studio. I distinctly remember thinking the animation tool in SketchUp was the coolest thing ever last year – dorky, I know. It was enjoyable to learn that these Formalist (are we calling these architects Formalists now?) thinkers theorized about this very phenomenon of movement through architecture being a sort of cinema and, simultaneously, of architecture being an actor in a larger work of cinema, one of life like Vertov captured. I’ve thought about this concept before. Winston Churchill said, “We shape our buildings; thereafter, they shape us.” We, intimately a part of our culture whether we want to be or not, design buildings dependent on our beliefs, morals, theories, needs, etc. This designed building is then constructed, used, and experienced. It becomes a part of the very society that made it. Depending on its form, its materials, its construction, it has the potential to make a statement back to society. I think the experience of a building is always more potent as it is experienced through movement in real time, especially if it was designed well. But to think of architecture then as an actor, something that causes change because of its form or the greater meaning that can be extracted from it, is extremely compelling. Thinking about it now, I’m not sure how far to take the idea. I believe any person can extract meaning from anything – even if it’s completely idiotic, so how do we as architects go about designing to encourage change in society? Can it be forced? Or does a well-designed building do this on its own?

Yve-Alain Bois - Lissitzky

In the first article, Yve-Alain Bois writes about Lissitzky's fascination with the idea of infinity in relationship to perspectival space vs. axonometric space. Lissitzky wanted to be able to show his work in the infinite space and therefore led him to use axonometry where the human eye is able to see an abstraction of the objects and can actually grasp the infinite space in which it is a part of. I found it interesting how lissitzky wanted the viewer to rid of perspective in a particular drawing because it held one back from the perception of the space around it. For example the plus and minus factor that Bois writes about in Lissitzky's ideas allows one to view the object as floating or in an infinite space which has a deep relationship to where the viewer is oriented. I also like the idea of focusing on the negative and positive space where they are able to switch back and forth, making it difficult to actually grasp the relationship of the object, ground plane and sky.
When Lissitzky takes it another step further to how the drawing cannot be hung in a museum because it will automatically label and imply a context for the viewer, it seems to me that his full idea cannot really be appreciated. I understand his position in that he wants to strip away the object into an abstract infinite space but to push that same idea into how it cannot be set up in a museum seems odd. How else can the public view the piece?

thoughts on vertov

What I find so fascinating about Vertov’s Man with the Movie Camera is that it was the first film to employ most of the techniques he used in it. Today, but beginning probably 50 years ago, every art history class is set up for double slide presentations because that is the best way to compare and contrast images. Graphic design is primarily the art of superimposition and graphic analogy because these techniques so simply convey a complex idea. And every film made today includes at least his technique of montage. Vertov’s method of filmmaking was so effective and caught on so quickly around the world that I wonder if artists and filmmakers consciously choose their methods today, or if they just use them instinctually. Almost instantly after the production of Man with the Movie Camera Vertov’s techniques spread worldwide: Eisenstein, Potemkin, then Godard and so many others. Even theater picked up on his suprematist technique of displacement, or astrangement, with Brecht’s “alienation effect.” I wonder if people would appreciate good film, good art, more if they knew its history as we are learning this semester. I think knowing the relationships between artists and their ideas makes my experience so much richer.

Movement in Architecture

These reading definitely resonated with a much deeper sense of meaning than the previous ones in our series.

The articles highlighted the aspect of movement in architecture, which I treasure to a great degree. The idea of moving planes and geometries is a strong one in architectural terms. Lissitzky’s idea of pulling the square to lend a sense of three-dimensionality showcases his efforts to emphasis art as a living entity that emanates a sense of existence. It’s apparent that the architects, even at that time, stressed on changing the view of people towards existing buildings – they wanted the buildings to be not just objects set in place, but as 3d forms that move in space. The idea of involving the spectator was great, and even better was toying with their minds. Reversing the horizontal with the vertical, and vice versa, brings in a new level of complexity of thought and forces you to actually think about the infinite possibilities.

I was sort of lost in ’Montage and Architecture’. I understand the core idea is to encompass motion in art and architecture, but the techniques depicted stir a few skeptic thoughts. Perhaps this can be viewed as the foundation work for our modern day cinemarchitecture. The idea of movement is depicted very boldly in the designs of the Cubo-Futurists, who go a step ahead, and project the entire building into infinity – a very powerful juxtaposition for an object that is very strongly limited by gravity.

I enjoyed these readings more than most of the previous ones. Since they were primarily architectural in subject, they were easier to read through a one-to-one architectural lens, without the awkward translation required to convert artistic or literary ideas into an architectural framework. They also gave me a much clearer idea of what the Formalists were about.

In the discussion about El Lissitzky’s treatment of axonometry, the author described a preoccupation with uncertainty. His opinion on axonometry being the only true means of representing three dimensions, whether true or not, can be discarded, because architecture has never had a problem expression three-dimensionality. However, the concept of infinity, and the ideas of skewing perspective and creating ambiguity can be quite powerful. Nothing is quite so jarring as to see something that should not be and seems impossible, but is real, or at least appears so.

I was even more intrigued by discussion of the picturesque in the Eisenstein reading, and later in the discussion of the proposal for the Palace of Labor. I too rarely think about design in terms of movement throughout space. Instead, I tend to become absorbed in looking at a project in its totality, typically from the godlike perspective of looking down on a model or plan. No one would ever experience a building this way in reality, and the filmmaker’s technique of storyboarding a building seems in many ways the best method for truly understanding the experience of a real human in an architectural setting.

Finally, I was interested to read about how the Vesnin brothers deliberately altered their rationalist plan in order to create a picturesque scene, in defiance of the functionalist belief that form would take care of itself. This interested me, because I often waver in my own designs between doing something that seems intriguing and doing something that seems sensible. This article by no means decided me on what the correct approach might be or what mixture of intrigue and sense would be most appropriate, but it was entertaining to read about other designers with the same problem.

Cinema

The success in "Man With a Movie Camera" lies in the timing: of the duration of shots and the speed at which they are played. A truly cinematic experience is achieved when the camera, whose greatest potential lies in its ability to manipulate time, is employed in such a way. In cinematic film we view series of real events that happen in unreal order and time. This is largely achieved by shots placed in sequence devoid of transitional phases, and it is here that we begin to adjust the relationships between objects. With this sort of grasp on the relationship of objects, Lissitsky makes an analogy to mathematics. Numbers are abstract figures in themselves as undefinable quantities (you cannot use a word in its own definition); but their interaction is significant and the relationships between them establish a legible order. Likewise, painting can be an abstract figure given meaning by the relationships between constituent parts. The projection of these relationships beyond the picture plane creates three dimensional space, and what could be architecture. The Acropolis is a cinema of its own right: the views presupposed by Greeks are distinguished from the time its takes to move between them.