Last week, I found myself in an emotional mess as I watched a pair of heroes bid their farewell to the show. It has been two days since I’ve braved myself again to finish the show I regretted binging. At this point, I have prepared myself mentally by reading the synopsis recaps to prevent myself from wallowing at the conclusion. I was already holding onto a melancholy after intensely watching the story, and I did not want it to spill into my week.
I could not be more wrong.
Instead, I found myself being triggered by tropes that turned the waterworks to the maximum. My arm was clutching tightly to mum’s as I sobbed controllably. This has been the third show that has sucker-punched my emotions. Initially, the show introduced itself with candy-coloured filters, only to later unearth darker elements. It did not help either when I received a message from a friend that set off another level of emotions that I have attempted to bury for the past couple of months…
Often, I wonder whether it is because of the character’s relatability or crescendo of the climax and resolution that leaves me feeling empathetic. Even if I was to be told that narratives are fictional, I still find it difficult to detach myself from these characters. Looking back at the two other shows that have left me emotional, including the most recent one, all three revolved around the concept of nostalgia that allowed a successful catalyst of heart-wrenching moments. Moreover, the careful layering of elements aids in crafting a connection with the audience. Without these relationships, the narrative may simply exist as a bland account of an event.
It makes me also wonder whether these principles are mirrored in architecture as well.
I only have been affected by architecture by itself twice. By this, I mean encountering an experience where it haunts you and can never be recovered is another visit.
The first one was standing underneath the glass ceiling of an art gallery. It occurred many years before I decided to pursue architecture as a profession. I recall entering the hall basking in filtered light, and it quickly became my favourite place to visit and recommend. Truthfully speaking, my attempts at returning to the space was a desperate plea to will myself in reencountering the reverie. I’ve been desperate enough to remember that feeling through creating several artworks and installations. Yet, they never succeed in reviving those moments I may have taken for granted
Leonard French Ceiling and The Evidence Room…
The other once-off feeling was an accidental encounter at the 2016 Venice Biennale’s ‘The Evidence Room’. The picture of the room recounting the Holocaust is still present in my mind till this day, plaster casts of ‘architecture’s greatest crime’ resembled a visit to the mausoleum. The room left me guilty, and I could only take a photo of the description and not the exhibition.
I did not want to revisit that room that day.
Generally, our design intent is being conscious about creating a lasting impression for the audience, contributing to the longevity of the design. Arguably, the lasting impact can be interpreted as making the grand first impression on the visitors and users. However, should we think further ahead… how often would our assumed guest maintain the same feeling when revisiting the building? We may need to acknowledge that their experience is a once-off and that their routine could prevent them from sharing our original design intent.
Memory by association is a concept I often enjoy using due to its prevalence in our design strategies. Whether it is choosing materials that reflect the site or a memory, landscaping strategically – they all reflect a subconscious choice the collaborators have experienced before. More importantly, despite the completion of the building, we will never know the events that occur inside the house (unless you are updated by the occupant, or you are the occupant), their actions will also associate another layer of feeling.
What I believe, makes award winning-architecture so successful in creating a lasting impression lies in the elements of surprise hinted in the media. Flipping through countless journals, I find myself imagining the space, wondering the level of details placed into the plans and sections. Even if the photos are perfectly staged and lit – I enjoy the striking images which allows a sense of voyeurism for the spectators. Besides, the paired commentary by the architects builds up anticipation, crashing over the visitor should they ever be able to experience the architecture in the flesh. Knowing that you may never revisit building again, it makes the visitor absorb their experience in greater detail. Between the visitor and the occupant, there lies two different events and perhaps two very different reactions.
“What is nonetheless respectable about these buildings is that they don’t have a speck of fat. What is important right now is constructed in a practical manner by possible elements of that place. They don’t respond to cultural context and history… (and) are guided by minimum effort.”
– Momoyo, Kaijima. Pg 12, 2001
Although, I will not disregard there are architecture designs created to create an impact, but simply exist on pragmatic reasons. There are times when a space needs to be simply fulfilled and articulated because it will be part of the user’s daily routine. Consider office arrangements, civic buildings and a shelter. As Atelier Bow Wow has pointed in Made in Tokyo and their presentations– there are collisions of odd programs made to fit to accomplish their goals, cutting out the ‘fat’ that us designers like to season with. This principle almost follows function before form – and a challenge to us on our willingness to achieve the client’s clear brief. Not to mention, our responsibility in tackling aesthetic verse functionality.
To some extent, it is plausible to argue that our design still strives to create an ongoing impression for our clients. Sometimes we try to incorporate elements of surprise, multiple entrances, or intricate details that can only be uncovered overtime - keeping the feeling fresh, and exciting for the user.
“Do you think a good architect is a person who simply accomplishes the client’s brief?”
– S. Hawken, 2017
Once, I was challenged on what kind of architect I wanted to be and what type of architecture I wanted to design. Before I became fully confident of my capabilities and desires, I simply thought to be a good architect was to be able to develop an infrastructure that would protect the clients’ happiness. In the context of this piece, I’d like to believe that adhering to my simple belief, it still makes us a good architect if we just simply comply with their desires. The additional elements may be manifested from the users instead.
Looking back at all my projects in architecture school and overseas work, I often wonder if my projects would create a similar reaction I usually have when watching dramas. Would that feeling continue to haunt me? Would it make me want to fight hard to forget it? Otherwise, cry about it for several days?
Maybe yes.
Maybe sometimes.
Maybe not.
Although, that will depend on who enters my design.
Related works: The Way We Knew It Left It. Ellipsism Part I, 2017
References
Leonard French. Ceiling of the Great Hall, located inside National Gallery of Victory. Built in 1968.
Robert Jan van Pelt, Donald McKay, Anne Bordeleau, Sascha Hastings. The Evidence Room. Presented at Venice Biennale, 2016.
Kaijima, Momoyo. Made in Tokyo. Made in Tokyo. Edited by Junzo Kuroda and Yoshiharu Tsukamoto. Tokyo: Tokyo : Kajima Shuppankai, 2001.
Yoshiharu Tskamoto. Super Tight. Lecture presented at The Capitol Theatre during Melbourne Open House, 27 July, 2019.
*For those who are curious about the dramas I was referring to…
Kariyama Shunsuke, Noriyoshi Sakuma. Q10 (キュー１０). Starring Satou Takeru and Maeda Atsuko. Screenplay by Kizara Izumi. NTV Network, 2010.
Jin Hyuk, Park Seon-Ho. Legend of the Blue Sea. Starring Jun Ji-hyun and Lee Min-oh. Written by Park Ji-eun. SBS Channel, 2016-2017.
Kim Sang-hyeop. Extraordinary You. Starring Kim Hye-yoon and Rowoon. Written by In Ji-hye and Song Ha-young. MBC TV Channel, 2019