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Norberg-Schulz Christian Intentions in Architecture PDF
Norberg-Schulz Christian Intentions in Architecture PDF
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Contents
Preface
1.
Introductio n
II.
Backgro und
1.
2.
Perceprion
Symbolization
II
53
III. Theory
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
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
Rome, December I I
1.
Introduction
13
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 1<pS. See S. Gie.
dton : Inu-oduction to J. L. Serr: CtI" Our
Cilia SlU'tin? Cm!bridge 19+4.
4 Th e discuss ion of architectural educatio n
was in itiated by W..lter Gr opius in Uu und
Wnm41'.
may fulfil their purposes in a satisfactory way. For the architects themselves it is depressing to have to work without any objective criticism
and self-criticism. Let us consider the single points in more detail.
THE CLIENT
When the client criticises, words like 'unpractical ', ' ugly' , and ' expensive' are frequent.
The practical or fun ctional criticism is due to a lack of correspondence
between the current way of life and the existing ' architectural frame'.
Thi s lack of correspondence may of course stem from shortcomings in
the architectural frame, inasmuch as it does not allow certain functions
to be carried out. But it also often happens that man prefers an antiquated ' way of life, although he thereby comes into conflict with the
environment and misses new values. 1 And we know that particular environmental needs may induce man to accept highly 'unpractical' living
conditions. Th is suggests that the architect should not as a matter of
course satisfy the functional or environmental wishes of the client.
The aesthetic criticism is also directed against deviations from the
habitual. Without further justifications most new solutions are deprecated
and labelled as architects' fancies. Or the critics go to the other extreme
and talk about ' greyness' and ' monotony' . 9 T he layman thus asks for
an architecture which is at the same time ' normal' and unusual. In any
case he surely does not find satisfaction in the so-called modern architecture'. But at the same time it is rather obscure what he sus in the
beloved architecture of the past. 10 H is point of view hardly coincides with
that of the art historian, but shows itself on closer scrutiny to be based
upon a few characteristic attributes with which he associates particular
meanings. II These meanings will generally appear superficial and primitive
to the architect, and it is a fact that both architects and artists react against
following the ' ruling taste'. 12 The problem, however , is not made more
simple by saying that the aesthetic criticism of the client is due to prejudices.
The econom ical criticism is connected with what 011~ gets for one's
money . We are willing to pay more if we obtain satisfaction of our
subjective environmental needs. I.l The economical conditions, therefore,
'4
1'}4 8 .
are relative, rather than absolute (within certain limits). Thus even economy
does not give us any clear directions how to build. And in most cases we
can also choose between many different solutions which cost the same.
Although the client' s criticism of the architects and their products is
imprecise and subjective, we should not call it irrelevant. It has sprung
from concrete situations, and shows better than any other symptom that
our present-day architecture does not participate naturally in a unified and
ordered environment. But we may assert that the criticism in most cases
has a certain narrowness of view. Generally the client will criticise on
the basis of his personal needs without recognizing that his project in
many ways forms a part of a larger whole. H e is therefore not conscious
of and amenable to the new possibilities the architect can offer him,
possibilities which may only become manifest after a long period of getting
accustomed to the finished product. Man has a conservative character, 14
and we experience today a 'commu nication-gap' between the larger part
of the public and those architects who go, if only very slightly, beyond
me most conventional solutions. At the same time it is a fact that an
ever-increasing number of architects are forced to find new solutions on
technical and economical grounds. 15
T he relationship between the client and the architect will of course
differ from place to place, and depends upon the role-distribution within
me society concerned. Generally, however, we may assume that the architect
should not only fulfil the needs of which the individual client is conscious.
THE SOCIETY
15
ex~i
nineteenth century,
ro'H'~ll tiollal
It is no excuse for the architect that the client and the society confront
him with imprecise and one-sided problems, because it is one of his main
tasks to [ormulate the problems on the basis of the various and often
contradictory needs which are brought forth. Very few present-day architects have a secure grip on this task. Most of them dispute the functional
problems because they disagree on what is a desirable way of life, or
because they fail to un derstand how a ' way of life ' may be formul ated
or ~ transh ted1 into ~1\ ~T(hittn\\nl fn.me.. 20
We all know that buildings and architectural Jay-outs serve practical
purposes, and we may recognize that mu ch has been done to satisfy
different interpretations of these ' functional' needs. It is natural that this
aspect came to the fore under the pressure of the modern idea of efficiency.
T he functionalism of the 'twenties and 'thirties took this as its point of
16
'7
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~
2
99
18
". '11
der Rolle.
II See S. Giedion : Sptue. Time ."d ATt Mtture, 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.
'9
No.
12,
1958.
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.
THE SITUATION
What we need is a conscious clarifica tion of our problems, that is, the
definition of our building tasks and the means to their solution.
The architect does not work in a vacuum. His products are solutions
to problems coming from the environment, and the solutions also have a
retroactive effect." We therefore have to inquire what the environment
asks from the architect, or rather, what it ought to ask from him. and
also how a ' good ' solution is defined. The architect works in 'situations '
which are composed in particular ways and which explicitly or implicitly
pose particular questions. T he situations are for instance made up of
economical, political and social conditions, of cultural traditions, of physical
conditions such as climate and topography, and not least of human beings
who see ' the environment in very different ways. " The situations are
not static, but always changing : the political organization of the society
changes, the economical conjunctures oscillate, and the climate hardly
offers constant conditions. These fluctuations are always more submitted
21
4&
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 7080
}'cars.
'3
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.
II.
.J~
Background
1.
Perceptio n
or
'7
to be: 4 Besser unsicher als gar nicht ' I In general we may say that the
purpose of perception is to give us information which enables us to act in
an appropriate way, but we already understand that perception is an
unreliable companion who does not mediate an objective and simple world.
Spontaneously, the world consists of the phenomena, or our experiences.'
We define according to Jorgensen: ' The word ' phenomenon ' designates
every 'something' which may be experienced, and its contrary ' nothing'
does not designate anything, but expruses that I do not experience anything, that is, that nothing is prt'sent to me".' But it would hardly be
satisfactory to consider the world as an aggregate of accidental phenomena.
We know from daily experience that the phenomena are united in pa rticular ways, we talk about causes and effects, meaning and order. Les us
look at an example.
We meet a girl. Th is girl has certain properties of which we spontaneously become aware. She may seem very beautiful because she cortespends to our idea of how a beautiful girl should look. Being asked after
the first meeting if we know the girl, we should have to answer both
yes and no. We do know some of her properties, but some thought tells
us that she certainly has other qualities which are hidden to us. For the
present, her beauty represents her to us. We say that her beauty is one
of her' manifestations' . Through a closer acquaintance we may discover
other manifestations of the girl, and we say that we know her better.
Perhaps the first property we recognized recedes, becoming less important
and convincing. Generally we may say that any object is represented by
its manifestations, that is, by mediating phenomena or ' lower ' objects.
We may also call these phenomena properties because they are not a thing,
' but belong to the thing in such a way that they directly represent or
symbolize the thing for us; and we cannot be sure that some day we may
not 'discover' (i. e. will experience) new phenomena which have the
character of being properties of the same thing. Wh at we call ' the thing ',
is thus not only the collection of its known properties. but the collection
of its known and unknown properties' . 4 From this it follows that a
phenomenon is present (appears), while an object exists . 5 The phenomena
do not exist, as they are characterized by a lack of permanence. That the
objects exist, means only that they are constituted as the most pam anent
1')2 .
have to learn that the sight of a pencil indicates something we can pick
up for writing. 9
Obviously the representing phenomena do not have the same importance
for the object. This holds true both in spontaneous perception and when
we have made a closer acquaintance with the object. Objects are built up
through generalizations and ordering of experiences, and we have already
suggested how the hierarchy' of phenomena may change through further
experiences. The nature' of the object is defined as the properties appearing more frequently, and forming the simplest relationships. Properties
characterized by irregularity are generally of minor importance. While
the visual phenomena are highly dependent upon the ' conditions of observation' (illumination etc.), touch is more invariant. Th erefore "palpableness
is the most primitive and common criterion of reality '. 10 It follows that
the object which is represented seems to be more ' remote' than those
representing it. According to Jorgensen we may talk about ' object levels' .
A cultural object is thus on a 'higher level ' than a physical one. From
what has been said above, we understand that the lower phenomena do
not as a rule appear first, mostly they are only accessible through a certain
analytical attitude. Generally perception grasps an intermediate level, and
only through a change of our attitude can we reach the lower or higher
objects. 11
ArrITUDE
IsS.
persons, and not least, works of art. Fortunately it often happens that we
agree, but the idea that ' taste should not be discussed ' is well established.
How has this to be understood ? So far we may say that the classifications
upon which we agree are generally rather superficial, and that the agreement usually finishes when we have to see the things of everyday life as
manifestations of higher objects.
T his implies that we have a diffe rent attitude ' (orientation) to the
'same ' things. We have all experienced how the same thing may change
according to our attitude. If we are in a bad m ood even known and dear
things may seem repulsive. Th e psychologists have studied this aspect of
perception and have found that the attitude plays a much more important
role than we generally believe. Thus Brunswik has shown that we have
a tendency to overestimate the size of things we consider valuable, as for
instance coins. U and another experiment shows that the same coins appear
larger (relative to a neutral scale of comparison) to poor than to rich
children. B H ence we have to realize that our attitude docs not only
:nean a more or less friendly outlook on things, but that the attitude
directly determines the phenomena. We may even say that it is nonsense
;:0 talk about phenomena independently of an attitude. 14 Naive realism,
therefore, is the victim of a fundamental misunderstanding, in believing
tha t a similar world is given, a priori. to all of us.
.
The attitude is often dictated by the situation. When we read. the
letters are given with form, as well as size and colour. But the task
demands that we direct our attitude towards th e form, whereas the size
and the colour are irrelevant, Of even disturbing, if they are not ' omitted'
in the perception. 15
Perception, therefore, is anything but a passive reception of impressions.
We may change the phenomena by changing our attitude. Brunswik used
the word ' intention' instead of attitude, to underline the active character
of the act of perceiving. We have suggested that our common everyday
intentions are simple classifications (such as fish, flesh, or fowl ') which
enable us to master the situations of daily life. 16 When a more unusual
attitude is requested, a greater ' intentional depth ' is needed, or let us say,
when we have to study the thing more closely and judge it more actively,
our everyday classifications fail, and we do not fully ' grasp ' the situation.
3'
...
This expresses itself thr ough disagreements, or thr ough our falling back
upon the superficial, everyday concord. That we neverth eless use the same
nam es for the things shows that language in general serves to describe our
everyd ay world. One could very well ask if we should not be content
with this sim ple world, and avoid complicating things unnecessarily. But
we know that everything we consider particularly valuable, like natur e,
ar t, social solidarity, scientific insight, and religious belief, is characterized
by going beyond the level of everyday life.
W e ha ve to conclude th at it is of the greatest importance to investigate
how and to what degree we ' attain' the higher objects.
INTERMEDIARY OBJECTS
Egon Brunswik was the first to form ulate a psychology which integrates
the organism with its environment. 17 Hi s work , however, has gained too
little attention. both because of its forbidd ing degree of complexity, and
because psychologists often suffer from the prejudice that psychology ha s
to be studied by 4 peeping into the organism'. n Brunswik's point of
depar ture is the question to what degree and by means of what mechani sms
we are able to perceive the objects which constitute our relevant environmem." We quote one of his examples : Let us suppose that a spider only
reacts to move m ents in the visual field . Flies are biologically important
objects to the spider, but it is only able to perceive the object "fly ' by
assuming ' that all movements in the visual field represent (arc manifestations of) flies. We may take it for granted that the spider often errcs, and
that it only in a very unsatisfactory way ' attains' this vital object. Another
animal, for instance a fish, may also react to the form and colour of the
fly, and thus attains a more satisfactory perception (it does not err as often
as the spider). But the fish does not perceive the fly 'perfectly' either,
and is easily fooled by an imitation which has certain proper ties in common
with the fly. 20 T his example shows that it is not at all certain that perception reaches its real goal. T he biologically important objects usually lie
'deeper ' than those perceived. Rather than grasping the thi ng directly we
perceive a situation where the thing is included as a possible compo nent. 21
32
I.
Wh~n ~e~ivi n g ,
th e
ey~
evidently ha,
~xpo,ffi
m be
One may object that the imperfect perception of animals does not prove
anything about human beings. But we have already mentioned the suitor
who chooses his bride because: of her beauty, and we understand that the
object-world of man is also known through its more or less reliable manifes tations. When the bride is chosen because of financial considerations,
the whole thing becomes still more complicated. T he suitor's love, so to
say, is a function of the girl's money, in other words, his attitude is not
only directed towards her personal properties, but also towards her fortune,
and the rich bride therefore seems more interesting, better, and more
beautiful than a ' corresponding' poor gir1. Th e suitor thus ' sees ' a girl
who is conditioned by something extraneous, her personality is ' coloured '
by her money. 12 If this perception is beneficial remains to be seen, but
we may at least say that the suitor does not attain the ' pure ' object which
is represented by an objective description of the girl' s personality. Th e
suitor only perceives an ' inurmediary object ' between some of the girl's
personal properties and her fortune. H is perception could even be conditioned by the weather on the day he met her;" We have all experienced
that similar intermediary objects are easily formed between a person and
his nationality, social position, title, or family name. The formation of
intermediary objects is characterized by our believing that we perceive
pure objects, without, however, attaining them. We may, for instance,
say that the suitor tried to judge his bride to the best of his ability, the
judgement, however, becoming defective because of the unavoidable
disturbing factor of the money.
The formation of intermediary objects also holds true for the perception
of simple physical situations. H If we try to estimate the real length of a
small stick appearing at a certain distance by comparison with a series
of sticks near at hand, we will exhibit a tendency to un derestimate it.
This is called imperfect size-constancy' . At the same time it is evident
that the projection on the retina of the distant stick is much smaller than
the projection of a similar stick near at hand. But the relative difference
between the projective length s (which is proportional with the distance)
is always much larger than the relative difference between estimated and
real length C' approximative size-constancy'). If we instead intend the
projective length of the distant stick on a stick at hand, we will generally
33
21 Brun.wik : W"hnukmun g. .. p.
:2.20.
:u Brum wik
object: the length is found between the two possible extremes, the real
length and the projective value. If we intend the real length, the intermediary object will approach this; if we instead intend the projective
length, the intermediary object will move in this direction. In both cases
the intermediary object is a product of the two possible intentions, with
the intended one dominating. 25
The objects which constitute the intentional possibilities we call, in
accordance with Brunswik, ' intentional poles' , 26 All the poles may be
of importance to the attained intermediary object, but the intended one
is primary. One may also say that we simultaneously intend different
poles, but with varying intensity. Th e perception of ambiguous figures
clearly shows that our experiences are conditioned by the pole-objects, and
may not be derived univocally from the stimulus-situation. When the
'aspect ' of an ambiguous figure shifts, the stimulus remains the same.
And still the figure ' looks' completely different. We may say that the
aspects are possible interpretations of the situation. T o perceive is to
interpret, that is, to choose between the intentional possibilities. 21
What is said above illustrates the thesis of Gestalt psychology that
' the parts are conditioned by the whole ' 2A, only formulated more precisely
by taking the attitude into consideration. Brunswik expresses this when
he says that the poles influencing a particular perception form a "coherencesystem ' 29. It is not said that ail the possible poles which may be connected
with the stimulus-situation really contribute to the intermediary object.
A variation of poles not belonging to the coherence-system does not
influence the experience. $0 Th e 'coherence-system' is a more precise designation of the relevant aspects of the situation and expresses, as suggested,
that we do not perceive isolated (discrete) absolute objects, but relativistic
totalities, such as a '6 ern long stick at 5 m distance ' , and not a ' 6 cm
long stick' 31 Th e coherence-system defines under which conditions we
(imperfectly) attain an object. Th e less extensive and the simpler the
coherence-system is, the greater is the chance that we may attain an
approximately correct perception of a single object. In most cases the
intermediary object lies close to one of the poles. Th is effect is so striking
34
is a
b~,ic
painting.
<')
35
, p . 73.
, p. 103.
Wahrn~hmung . ..,
pp. 121,
nG.
3~
Brumw ik :
p. 193.
actions. It may even be convenient that perception spontaneously counterbalances several factors and makes a compromise.
When we partly or completely attain an object, our conduct may be
described by means of this object. We have suggested that any objective
description has to be done in terms of objects because the objects are
constructed with objectivity as a criterion. T his is the basis of Brunswik's
programme : ' Psychologic vom Gegenstand her' or psychology in terms
of objects' . J9 T he objects themselves may be understood as descriptions
of an ' ideal ' conduct, or as perceptions under ideal conditions (measurement). Such a conduct is only suitable when facing certain tasks, but
gives a standard for action in general.
We understand that the immediately given, the phenomena, are intermediary objects, The term ' intermediary object ' has been introduced in
such a way that the phenomena are ' explained '. We repeat that to render
an account of an intermediary object, one has to indicate the poles which
have contributed to its formation, in other words, to investigate ' under
which conditions, in which phenomenal context a phenomenon appears
(is given) ' . 40 It may seem confusing to say that we are able to experience
something which is an intermediate between a length and an area, or
between a size and a value; in general that the nature of the perceptions
is such that language remains without words. But we have just seen that
the words denote objects which are abstractions (generalizations) from the
immediately given phenomena. Spontaneously we escape confusion by
assuming' that we experience pure objects, without realizing that the
perception is 'diffusely mixed' with the perception of other objects. 41
We understand the importance of the object-constructions as the basis of
an ordered world, but we also understand that they make us miss the
finer shades. The concept ' intermediary object ' deprives the world of the
last rest of im m anent static or absolute form, and presents instead an
interaction of "self-changing energies' . 42
Above we have given an account of the process of perception, but we
have not explained how int entions are attained, how we learn that particular
phenomena represent particular objects. Nor is it explained how we win
the vicariousness of mediation.
40
167.
In trying to establish the connection between the organism and its environment, we are inquiri ng how the adjustment of the organism takes place.
The child' s adaptation to the environment is generally labelled as a
socialization-process'. H This term indicates that the child is admitted to
a society and only gradually learns to apprehend what the society expects
from it, and what the child itself may expect to attain. This adaptation
not only consists in adjusting to social objects (other persons and collectivities), but also in adjusting to the physical things with which the child
comes in contact. The child, so to say, has to learn how the things ' behave'
if they are treated in a particular way, that the things may be grasped
or lifted with more or less effort, that they arc hard or soft. Through
experiences with the things one may adjust one's own conduct, and perception becomes a recognition of the things which are known. It might
be objected that the word socialization ' does not fit the adjustment to
the physical things, as an interminable amount of elementary experiences
has to be common to all cultures to enable man to find his way in the
physical surroundings. But at the same time the physical objects differ in
the various societies, and above all, they participate in different human
actions, Children growing up in a metropolis and peasant children thus
have different experiences with physical things. Generally perception
:5 very unsatisfactory in front of things we do not know. .... As grown-up
?Crsons we usually have to undergo particular experiences to be able to
:arry out a particular profession. T his means that perception is dependent
.lpon our conceptions; we perceive the sum of our own experiences," And
these experiences are in the highest degree a result of the demands made
:ly our society. We may also put it this way: the formation of intermediary
:>bjects is dependent upon intentional poles which have to be understood
as generalized, socially conditioned experiences. The intentions we attain
ire a result of the socialization-process. Tautologically expressed the given
world consists of the objects we know. 4Ii
Very soon the parents start to expect a certain behaviour from the child.
_\ t the same time they adjust themselves to the child's actions and try to
cnderstand their ' meaning ' , that is, what the child seems to expect from
37
p. :<:19.
ion, p, :.
<6 POlnonl 6: Shils: 01"
or.,
p. 6;.
the environment. Parents and child thus influence each other mutually,
a state of affairs which is generally called ' interaction '. 47 T he interaction
is conditioned by mutual expectations. Scientific work is also based upon
expectations, in the form of appropriate predictions. H uman interaction
is more complicated because it is not enough to understand the "behaviour"
of physical objects, but one has also to consider the reactions of Aller to
one's own actions. This is a fundamenta l characteristic of human interaction. From childhood on, we behave in certain ways to obtain the
reactions we want from Alter, or to escape undesired reactions. Those
objects which may enter into a relationship of mutual expectations, we
have called social objects' . Social objects may be single personalities,
groups or collectivities. For the child, the mother is primarily an important
social object, soon also the whole family and only later other collectivities.
Evidently the social expectations are also generalized experiences. One
attains in correspondence with one's own actions. The baby cries when
it wants something, and because its needs are relatively few, this is usually
adequate. When the needs become more differentiated, the child's actions
bccorne correspondingly articulated and it starts to make use of signs'
to attain gratification of its expectations. In this way it takes advantage
of the fact that objects may represent each other. We thus see that the
signs we employ denote generalized experiences, objects we want to attain,
escapeor describe. The generalized experiencesare abstracted inter-situational
similarities. Th e' sign ' is of fundamental importance because it overlooks
minor differences, and through its stable ' meaning' makes that communication possible which is a prerequisite of any differentiated interaction. 43
T he signs are characterized by being common and ready for use; they are
not invented anew within the individual interaction. -w Socialization therefore primarily consists in an adjustment to that part of tradition which
comprises all sign-complexes or 's ymbol-systems' . 50 It is impossible to get
direct individual knowledge of all the objects in our environment , but
we take over instead the experiences of others through the symbol-systems.
Although these experiences often are communicated and used in a super
ficial way, they make us grasp objects far beyond our individual potentialities. The process of socialization is thevetore both necessary and dangerous.
It is needed to integrate the individual in the common world and to give
49 E. C.
Tol m~n :
39
G~"cral
52 See C. Kluckhohn : ' V~l ue ~nd ValueOrkn t;ltions in the Theory of Action ' . in
Toward a Ge-IJenl Theory oj ActIO n.
5.1 Panons: op. cit. p. 18.
" Parsons : cp- cit., p. U I.
55 P;lnOns : op . cit., p. 16.
itself to the new expectations. 'Security' thus means the ability to bear
a certain amount of disappointments, and these disappointments or renouncements are basic to the development of personality.
' Socialization ' therefore implies that we learn to behave in particular
ways towards particular things, in other words, that particular phenomena
have become connected with particular objects. Th is relationship varies
according to which interactions the single individual has established. The
sociologists express this by saying that we play different "roles' in society.
The word ' role' thus denotes an ordered behaviour determined by particular intentional poles. se T he word has been chosen to illustrate that our
behaviour is neither accidental nor understandable through an isolated
study of the single individual. It also expresses that we have diDermt
roles in interaction, which are mutually interdependent. A society is an
ordered system of roles defined through institutions. Marriage is such an
institution. The personality may also be understood as a system of roles
determined by the individual's participation in different interactions. T he
same role, therefore, is different to different individuals in so far as it
always belongs to another role-system. The roles of the single individual
change during the course of life, especially during childhood and adolescence. Particularly important is the transition to the professional world
of the grownup person. Parsons considers this a new phase in the socialization-process. While the first phase was universal, the second is more
specialized. In great part it consists in the acquisition of that specialized
knowledge which is necessary in the situations of a gcownup role. Wh at
has to be learned is generally so complex that the only efficient method
is imitation. 57 The roles also change later in life. Marriage thus asks for
always new role-contents as one gets one or more children, and as the
children grow up and leave the home. Even society itself may change in
such a way that the roles assume a different character; " In general,
however, we may regard the roles and their changes as determined within
the social system. We may also say that a particular' cultural pattern' is
expressed through the roles.
Every role implies a particular orientation to the environment, and it
is therefore a matter of course that the roles are reflected in perception.
We have already mentioned the' specialized ' perception of the car-driver,
56 P..",n,
&
-s-
and understand that all specialists necessarily have to develop their charac
tcristic intentional poles. Th e artist is no exception. Most' special ' intentions
are developed during the second phase of socialization. T he mechanism
of perception, however, is built upon a foundation of general, everyday
intentions. Th is is due to the first phase of the socialization-process, which
may be called ' universal ' because it changes less in space and rime.
Children's drawings are fairly similar in all parts of the world, while the
arts reflect a later adaptation to different roles and cultural objects.
ScH EMATIZATl ON
4'
Piaget concludes that the experiment ' ... shows how poorly commonly
perceived events are recorded in the absence of a schema within which
they may be organized.' Q Any new situation demands a certain revision
of our schemata, and an active relation to the environment presupposes
such a flexibility. One of the most beautiful experiences is to meet an
elderly person who is still willing to receive impressions, and who does
not reject everything that does not not fit in with the essence of his or
her previous experience.
To ' learn to see', above all means to acquire schemata which allow
an adequate intentional depth. Thi s is apparent, for example, when one
is learning a foreign language: it is essential to learn to intend sponta
neously the meaning of the words. A language we do not know well
demands effort, because the intention of the meaning does not come
without translation. It is of course neither possible nor necessary to build
up all schemata individually. While the simplest perceptual schemata are
a result of senso-motoric activity, the higher ' schemata are, as suggested,
based upon communication of experiences and cultural traditions. If this
were not the case, our culture would never reach beyond a very primitive
stage. We assimilate experiences through the schemata, and these come
to life when we have an experience which ' fits ' . Every historical period
brings forth its characteristic schcmatizations.
The great Swiss child-psychologist Jean Piaget has given us a basic
understanding of schematization. He stresses that the first schemata are
a result of the child's concrete operations, and not an intellectual abstraction
of the properties of things. Wittgenstein expresses this state of affairs
when he says: It is only if someone can do, has learnt, is master of,
such and such, that it makes sense to say that he has had this experience.' 6J
T hus Piaget shows that our primal schematizations are the result of
operations' such as putting things dose to each other, into each other
or after each other. 64 When the child draws a 'rounding ' and lets it
represent a thing in general, this signifies that it assimilates the things to
its schema for ' thingness'. For the child a thing is primarily something
enclosed and compact, and the rounding ' perfectly represents these
qualities. 65
Th~
Child'l
Piagtt ..
Inhdd~ ;
p. 209.
43
Piaget
&;
Inhelder . op. d t. p. 9.
44
71
Piag~t &
73
74
single proportions varies according to the context. Piaget also shows that
the perception of proportions is very unsteady and defective. "Strong
Gestalten' such as discrete, simple geometrical figures, are the only excepdons." The experience of pregnancy and Gestalt quality is therefore
primarily due to other factors than the proportions, and we have already
suggested that the basis is topological, with straight lines and defined
angles as later supplements. 76
From what has been said above, we understand that the Gestalt laws'
are relatively simple schematizations, mainly based upon the topological
schemata described by Piaget. It should also be stressed that they are not
general "Jaws' we have to obey. We can very well direct our attitude
differently than prescribed by the Gestalt schemata. And the thesis of
Gestalt psychology, that we always prefer the simplest solution, is explained
by the fact that we ' know ' that a d ear order is convenient. But the need
for a simple order is not absolute, it is a well-known phenomenon that
perception often tends to oversimplify the situation. The experiences of a
characteristic property, as well as a diffuse totality or an articulated form,
arc the result of schematizations. To perceive implies that we attain a
certain order, and the chaotic is defined by shunning a satisfactory
perception.
The so-called ' constancy-phenomena ' also have to be mentioned in
more detail. When we perceive a circular table, it is almost always seen
obliquely, and the projective pattern on the retina is oval. In spite of this
we experience a circular table and not an oval one. T his is called "formconstancy' , and implies that we may perceive the sameness of a thing
although its projective pattern changes. T here arc of course limits to the
recognition of complicated forms. J. J. Gibson maintains that the projectional pattern must keep a kind of identity through the changes." The
projectional pattern is distorted, but certain determining structural qu alities
arc retained during the distortion. We may say that the form is stretched
without bursting. As already mentioned, Piagct has shown that we learn
to perceive the sameness of things because of their topological properties.
We therefore do not have to consider the projective pattern in this context,
but a careful investigation of the limits of thing-constancy is anyway very
desirable. 78 T hing-constancy may of course also result when two (or more)
Wertheim~ :
45
79 Arnhdm reprodoces the structuul Ikeleton ' of the square OD p. 3 in Art ~nJ Vis,,~l
pl!ruption.
110 JQr~Il "C't1: op. cir. , pp. 3r44.
nomena into a superior space-conception. Such a space-schema in a developed form, is capable of defining the relations between things by indications like right and left, behind and before, over and under, and also
through considering the relative sizes. The Euclidean space-schema organizes such indications into a system extending in all three dimensions. ~I
The investigations of Piaget have shown that Euclidean space is a relatively
late schcmatization, which only has an unconscious behavioural character.
The experience of depth, which is the point of departure for the Euclidean
schema, stems from the topological relation that things are betwee n each
other. Also, the perception of depth is very inaccurate and demonstrates
that phenomenal space has a non-Euclidean character. !Z Nor does Euclidean space correspond to the gravitational space which' radiates' from the
globe. The ' straight' lines we imagine parallel to the surface of the earth
arc far from straight, and we understand that Euclidean space is not derived
from the physical properties of the globe.
Piaget's experiment with the water-bottle shows that the younger children only perceive that the water is inside, without being able to render
an account of the relation between the water and the bottle. T he bigger
children also perceive the surface of the water, but imagine its relation
to the bottle as unchanged when the bottle is tipped. The water is hence
assimilated to the directions of the bottle as a schema, and although the
children su that the water-surface remains horizontal when the bottle is
tipped, they are unable to represent in a drawing this state of affairs!
Only still older children are able to assimilate the water to an 'imagined'
schema outside the bottle, i. e., the vertical-horizontal schema.
Piaget sums up his investigations with these words : 'It is quite obvious
that the perception of space involves a gradual construction and certainly
does not exist ready made at the outset of mental developme n t .' ~' ' T he
. intuition ' of space is not a 'reading ' or apprehension of the properties
of objects, but from the very beginning, an action performed on them.' M
Hence we understand that the word ' space' may denote very different
objects which may be more or less intentionally distant. In certain older
cultures, for instance, the space-conception was also determined by different
qualities assigned to the directions north, south, west and east. These
qualities were intermediary objects with religious ideas as contributing
47
0 1'.
s.
dt., p . +19.
also
The elemen tary perceptional schemata which have been outlined above,
mediate a world of simple physical things. In different cultures these
schemata are ' mixed ' with more particular intentional poles with 'colour '
perception in characteristic ways. In our western culture we distinguish
strictly between living and inanimate objects, and we pursue intentions
where the invariant physical properties of things are the main goals. We
usually try to ' understand ' the situation, and our perception becomes
diffuse and unsatisfactory if the stimulus does not fit our simple categories, a1
' Primitive' man behaves in a completely different way. All things are
spontaneously experienced as anima ted and living. Such a 'physiognomic'
or ' magic ' perception intends the 'expression' of things. In our culture
we only experience othe r persons in this way. sa Anthropomorphism ' is
a particular type of physiognomic perception, where human characteristics
,,,,J
1931.
49
not
92
171.
9-l
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).
5'
99 II. C,n rril : Th~ 'Why' of man's E;>; pcricncc, Princeton r950. p- 128.
100 Rrumw ik b" worked out , very inler_
e. ting di.:l.gr,m for tbe description of tbe
relationship between the organi<m :In<! die
en vironme nt . See Brunswik: ' The Co ncept ual
Focus of Syems', in Marx : op. cit., p. 132.
101 Tbi. is probably wbat Wittgenstein implies when he Soays: ' Ich bin ab o der Mcinung. die Probleme im We.en tlichen entgiiltig
gelo.t zu haben. Und ....enn ich micb nichr
hlerin ere, 50 besteht der Wen diC$CJ: Arbcil
",weiten. darin . da u sie u;gt. wie 'wenig
darnit gct:ID ist , dass diese Problemc gelOsi
sind .' (Introduction 10 Tr iJCtdlus .)
2.
Symbolization
Our actions presuppose an organization of the environment. T his organization consists, as we have seen, in abstracting objects from the im mediately
given phenome na. I T he objects, or the form we assign to the world, are
expressed in our behaviour. But we have also suggested that for many
purposes it is necessary to fix the objects by means of signs, so that they
may be talked about, described and ordered into systems. " The more
complex and differentiated the environm ent becomes, the more we shall
need a large number of r; symbol-systems' which allow for co-operation
and fellowship.
We can only describe order, because every description aims at the
demonstration of similarities. The objects are the order or form of realit y.
The phenomena arc immediately given with form, as manifestations of
objects, and this form is their meaning. T his does not imply that the
objects cause the phenomena. The phenomena have no causes, but appear
(present themselves) in a certai n order . The meaning of the phenomeno n
is the context in which it appears. We th us understand that ' phenomenon'
and ' object ' are two aspects of the same matter. W e abstract the most
invarian t properties of the phenomena and call them objects.
We can only describe the phenomena in term s of objects because we
can only describe similarities (relations) between phenomena, or structure, J
.\ny description, any science, therefore, has to be "vom Gegensta nd her ' . 4
.\ 'phenomenological' description is an illusion, as it necessarily has to
classify the phenomena, that is, it has to be carr ied out in terms of objects.
It is not as a matter of fact evident how the phenomena should be classified,
as the phenom ena may have several properties in common. We could, for
instance, classify according to colour, and give the same designation to
53
54
5 v. F. Lenzen: P~ouJurei oj
Sciena. Chicago 1938, pp. 3' If.
Empi~i((/l
8 Panons
has shown itself very practicable. It may also happen that we describe
another p henomenon by means of 3 dimensions of a completely different
kind, as for instance a colour as a product of three precisely defined 'colourobjects' (e. g. hue, saturation, intensity). We may very well say that our
colour is defined in a tri-dimensional 'space' , but this space of course has
nothing to do with a Euclidean space. The type and number of the
dimensions are chosen according to their suitabilit y, and it would be a
fundamen tal misunderstanding to read any ' number-mysticism ' into this
state of affairs. We therefore have to reject statement s saying that' the
world is five -dimensional ' or that modern painting is based upon
the four Einsteinian dimensions'. 9 The success of a scientific investigation
depends upon the suitability of the dimensions chosen. It is just as wrong
to divide everything into subordinate bits as to support an oversimplifying
-totaliry-view". In the last case we would ' freeze ' the world into a few
arbitrary and static categories, a tendency which has been rath er comm on
in recent science and philosophy.
Jean Piaget has shown that the child's adaptation to its environment
takes place by means of ,; experimentation '. By handling things, by always
new operations, the child forms an idea of the relevant similarities and
dissimilarities, in other words, it atta ins kno wledge of objects. This development is usually accompanied by a linguistic education. 10 T he child thus
builds up its world through senso-motoric operations. " Science, therefore,
is noth ing but an accurate and systematic continuat ion of the activities
of daily life. Both daily life and scientific work are based upon insight
into the lawful patterns of our experiences. I~ Any action would be impossible if we did not know that things are (relatively) permanent , and
that we may expect a certain ' behaviour ' from them. In daily life we
base our actions upon conscious or unconscious h ypotheses about what will
happen if we behave in a certain way, while science constructs experiments
to verify its hypotheses. 13 A scientific law, therefore, has the purpose of
making the prediction of future occurrences possible, but as it is always
the result of a limited number of observations, it docs not offer full secur ity.
A law is never absolute, but has only a higher or lesser degree of probability. " Th is does not imply that science no longer aims at objectivity.
A statistical law is just as concrete and objective as an absolute law. 15
55
10
Piag~t :
op _ cit.. paim .
thus. is a
ar'.
Iin~ ' .
~i m
J~
Il
.\I~load~re", Kiibo,nh~m
1942. 1'1'_
,6If.
0e
69.
ency is often hidden behind the term ' common-sense ' . In our changing
and always more complex world this has often led to dang erous and
unnecessary conflicts. Just as the scientist has to give his concepts an ever
hig her degree of precision, we arc also forced to do the same in our daily
life and our work. We have all experienced h ow political propaganda,
in particular, suffers fro m a meaningless use of language , and we have
mentioned that this also holds true for the architectural debate.
Many attempts have been made to dear up this situation. T he most
basic insight into the problem is due to operationalism ". One has simply
asked the question: 'under what concrete circum stances are we allowed
to usc a particular word ? ' 20 T he purpose of putting this question is to
find a method whieh may establish the conta ct between the words (the
objects) and our imm ediate experiences. Accord ing to traditi onal philosophy the words represent' ideas' whi ch have an absolute existence independently of our experience. 21 Modern science, however, has been forced
to realize that the meaning of the words lies in the relationship between
language and experience. A term is defined relative to the situations where
it is employed. Instead of imagining an absolute reality mediated by the
words, a reality which will always run into conflicts with the forces of
.:hange, we have to look upon language as a flexible tool corresponding
:0 an objective (but not absolute) world of changing empir ical objects.
An ' operational definit ion ' , therefore, consists in telling how a concept
.s used, and we recognize the correspondence with Piaget's investigations
: ,0 the formation of concepts. 22 Compl etely carried through, the operational
method attempts [ 0 reduce all statements to the simplest possible operations
elementary experiences), such as pointing at a thing and saying its name.
This means that the objects arc defined by the operations which have
ciade us know them.
Language is a symbol-system . A symbol-system has to be constructed
.J. such a way that it easily adapts itself to regions of the object world.
"his adaptation is possible by means of a common logical form . n "Symcolization ' therefore means a representation of a state of affairs in another
-tediurn by means of structural similarity . T he world of objects is very
. omplex and varied, and we need a large num ber of different symbolrrstcms to 'describe ' it. Where language fails, mathematics has shown
57
(a.15u ).
itself to be very , useful. The arts are also symbol-systems, and we will
later render an account of their roles. In general we may say that each
symbol-system has a different 'capacity of symbolization ', which is defined
in terms of the objects it can repre ~nt . Certain ' forms ' (sign-complexes)
arc better fitted for receiving certain 'contents ' th an others. Th is correspondence, however. is not univocal. Any form is usually capable of receiving varying contents within certain limits. A complex content may also
through convention be represented by a simple form. In this way, however,
we do not create any sym bol-system . The nation, for instance, may be:
analyzed as a system of properties, but th e flag cannot be submitted to a
corresponding analysis. The flag, therefore, does not form part of a class
of symbols which is able to represent the properties of the nation. A symbolsystem has to consist of elementar y symbols signifying the elementary
properties of the higher objects. This implies that it needs articulation
(differentiation) to be able to treat the higher objects. The Rag is ' banal'
because its content , is determined once for all. In the same way the
elementary parts of the symbol-systems are banal. But they may be: used
to form a totality which is not banal. When, for instance, we hoist the
flag on our national day, the flag becomes a part of a larger whole and
we perceive it as a manifestation of certain fundamental qualities of the
nation. It is important that a symbol-system does not contain contradictions.
If we happen to contradict ourselves because of inner confusions in the
symbol-system, we will have to improve it. We may therefore conclude
that our concepts only possess meaning within a logically coherent language.
] ust as the phenomena are defined by the context in which they appear,
a sign has only meaning within a system. A meaning, therefore, is always
a relation. Culture is based upon the development of symbol-systems which
can keep and spread experiences. 24 It is characteristic that the first stable
culture in Sumer (before 5000 B. C.) was made possible by the use of
pictures, written language, and architecture. 25
We can study the logical construction of a symbol-system without
taking its relationship to reality into consideration. Such a study is purely
formal and is called ' syntactics'. 26 Mathematics and logic are examples
of purely formal sciences which only treat their own inner coherence and
articulation. A syntactical investigation of a symbol-system, therefore, only
w.
11.
Andr~c : D iU GOlluh~us
;m alun
1930, p. 44
l/i
"<rIJ Ji~
O';~flI ,
Berlin
studies t/lC relations betwee n jzg11S, and does not tell us anything about
reality. It is "empty"; "
But we may also investigate: the relations between the signs and reality,
and return then to our operational definitions, or what is often called
' semantics'. T he operational definitions arc also kn own as "semantical
rules'. Semantics treats the relations between the sign and its designatum."
We have already suggested that a symbol-system influences its users.
T he study of this fact has been called' pragmatics' (Morris). Pragmatics
treats the relations between the sign and those who use it, and thus comprises all the psychological and sociological factors which participate as
intentions and reached goals.
Charles Morris unifies all the three aspects, syntactics, semantics, and
pragmatics in his ' T heory of Signs' or "semiotic": " Semiotic is itself a
symbol-system, a language to talk about signs' .30 In its three ' dimensions'
semiotic aims at understanding the 'rules ' for the use of signs. It is not
necessary to be conscious of the rules to be able to usc a symbol-system,
but the rules represent the forms we have to employ to apreS$ ourselres
in a meaningful way. Morris stresses the fact that the three dimensions
are interrelated. The syntactical organization of a symbol-system is a
function of the purposes it has to serve (it must for instance be constructed
in such a way that it might become com mon), although it also has its
independent pattern consistency' . 31 The pragmatic effec t is correspondingly a function of the semantical dimension. The meaning of a sign is
compk td y described by indicating its three semiotical aspects. The meaning,
therefore, is not something which has to be 'added to ' the semiotical
description. 12 Neither is it, as is often maintained, something purely private
or subjective. By means of semiotic, 'meaning ' can be studied objectively."
The rules for the use of signs arc in daily life rarely formulated in an
exact way, rather they have the character of habits or tradition. 34
Semiotic sums up the efforts of science in a simple formula, and Morris
concludes: Indeed, it does not seem fantastic to believe that the concept
of sign may prove as fundamental to the sciences of man as the concept
of atom has been for the physical sciences or [he concept of cell for the
biological sciences.' l5
59
Till now our language has been the main subject-matter of semiotic.
but lately we have also started to investigate visual and auditive signs, such
as diagrams, images. traffic-signs and works of art. 36
CoMMUNICATION AND INFORMATI ON
19 Cherry : e p- cit. p. 6.
'!Q
61
~l
~s
totalities are of such a nature that language: offers no words for them.
The perception of a tree, for instance, is not equivalent to a scientific
description of the tree, and an analytic ' explanation' of a poem does not
replace the direct experience of the poem, any more than a description
of an experience is the same as a poem about this experience. If the last
statement is correct, the poem must be understood as a symbolization of
a kind different from the scientific description. But before we investigate
this problem more thoroughly, we have to say something more about the
relationship between description -and the concretely given phenomena.
While our perceptions are always conditioned by attitudes, science tries
to be independent. Or rather, it prescribes a particular analytic attitude.
T his attitude is basic to what we call thought. T hought aims at a security
which perception does not offer. To arrive at this security thought has to
abstract, that is, to order into categories and to overlook the finer shades.
T hought is not, like perception, based upon schematization; " although
it employs schematic concepts, and it is therefore the only reliable tool
for the construction of an ordered, objective world of objects. In complex,
concrete situations demanding quick decisions thought, on the contrary,
is handicapped. It is too slow and does not spontaneously grasp the relevant
intermediary shades. For this purpose, perception is a much better tool.
Perception is more flexible, but less reliable. Thought is (approximately)
exact, but clumsy and bureaucratic, while perception is uncertain and
spontaneously ' ingenious'. 46 Thou ght works slowly and makes conscious
all the mediating objects which are ' swallowed' in a satisfactory per
ceprion. In contrast to the exact measurements' 0f thought, perception
employs more or less trustworthy assumptions. Some objects can only be
attained through thought, as for instance all the pure constructs of science.
These objects are not to be: experienced. T heir purpose is to form a basis
for thinking. Other object-complexes, on the contrary, arc not accessible
to thought, because they fall apart during analysis, and have to be: experienced directly. In our time the scientific attitude has come to dominate
in such a way that many find it incomprehensible that man also tries to
develop symbol-systems which aim at representing the world in another
way than through analytical description. 4' Strangely enough, it is science
itself which has brought forth an ever stronger reaction against this one-
47 Today an is often considered an ' unnecessary luxury ' . and religion is rejected
because it docs ncr offcr a 'scientifically correel' picture of [he world . Our schools arc
oac-sidcdly oriented lowardJ the collection
of ' knowledge '.
51 In otha
that it does not, like science, seek the pure objects; rather it concretizes
intermediary objects (coherence-systems of objects) in signs of a pronounced
totality-<:haracter. 53 Our attitude towards an intermediary object is simultaneously multipolar, and cannot be represented by an ' addition ' of discrete
pole-symbols. T he non-descriptive symbol-systems may of course be investigated semiotica l y. We may render an account of their purposes and
effects, the poles they merge together, and also how they are organized
themselves. Thi s investigation, again, is scientific and descriptive. Scientific
criteria for truth , however, may not be employed in connection with the
non-descriptive symbol-systems, as our conception of truth presupposes a
logical order of pure objects. The non-descriptive symbols, on the contrary,
are capable of concretizing those phenomena that science considers as
' illusions '. The perceptions of daily life are generally intermediate to the
objects and quasi-objects mediated by the specialized symbol-systems. T he
non-descriptive symbol-systems, therefore, do not give us kno wl~dge, but
experiences and directions for our conduct. To this purpose they employ
synthetical signs which mediate reality in its phenomenal totality. T his,
however, does not exclude that the non-descriptive systems can absorb
material from science and merge this with other aspects of reality. ~
S YMBOL SYSTEMS
While the goals and methods of science have been studied in great detail,
the non-descriptive symbol-systems are still hardly understood. ss We know
that several such systems exist, but how can we define their limits and
roles? Our point of departu re must be the fact that the objects are of
different oalue to us. According to their belonging to different phenomenal
contexts, they serve different purposes and mediate different higher 'goalobjects'. A goal may be an existing object which should be attained
(through perception or direct possession), or an imagined object which
does not yet exist. That a value enters the coherence-system of poles,
implies that an object is perceived as wanted or not, relative to a goal.
It has no meaning to say that an object an sich is valuable. It only has
meaning within a system of objects serving different goals. All objects are
given with value, and the values therefore form a part of the phenomenal
precise.
~ We may create ck..criptive system, with
the aim of un<!er=nding non-d escriptive
,ystems , but we ean also make non-descriptivc
,ystenu which express ' desaiptive systems.
FiIL:Illy. we can establish d escripti ve sl'tems
which treat other descriptive Jyne ms.
:16 s~~
Parsons
&
i. influeDccd
~8 .
Our exposition leads in a natural way to a classification of the symbolsystems based upon a combination of the fundamental classes of objects
(physical, social, and cultural) with the basic types of orientation towards
these objects. 6 1 A cognitive orientation to physical objects produces what
we call ' natural science' , while a cognitive attitude to the social objects
defines the social sciences. A cognitive orientation to cultural objects gives
rise to the Gcistcswisscnschaitm , A cathectic orientation to physical objects
may produce a satisfaction of physical needs, while an evaluating attitude to the same objects causes the establishment of a monetary standard.
An evaluating orientation to cuirural objects is usually called ' taste'. T he
matter becomes still more interesting when we simultaneously direct the
same type of orientation towards several objects (i. e. towards an intermediary object), or when the same object is simultaneously intended in two
or more different ways (cognitive + cathectic ctc.), or, finally, when several
objects and orientations merge into one complex process of symbolization.
Art thus seems to be characterized by a merging of cognitive and cathectic
orientations, and the different' arts' by directing this mixed intention'
towards different combinations of objects. Social realism ' , for instance,
shows a cognitive-cathectic intention of physical-social objects. A combination of cognitive and evaluating orientations gives rise to what we call
ideologies.
Parsons discusses some of these problems, but his treatment of the
two large groups of symbol-systems we know as art and religion is hardly
satisfactory. He characterizes religion as a non-empirical evaluative belief
system' 41, but overlooks the fundamental role played by concretizing
symbols in religion. H e is surely right in saying that many religious '
conceptions (e. g. God as an old man with a long, white beard ') can
be likened to the ' models' of science (e. g. the atoms as small solar
systems'), thus playing the role of mediating symbols which should
facilitate the experience of the deeper meaning. " But this is surely not
the case with the dogmas and the liturgy of the higher religions, which
can only be understood as concretizations of very complex intermediary
objects, often called ' mysteries' . 64 T he pretension of religion is just to
organize the world completely , and this can only be achieved throug h a
total' concretization. " The parables of Christ are typical examples of
66
J67
ff .
As the type of symbol-system we call ' art ' more directly concerns us, we
will have to carry through a somewhat more detailed discussion.
Semiotically defined, aesthetics studies the ends and (formal) means
of art. " As we have already mentioned, it is not a new idea to regard
art as a symbolization alternative to thought and science. But different
theories are not lacking. Thus it has been maintained that the arts do not
serve any social or cultural purpose at all. From what has been said above,
we under stand that this tArt pour l'Art attitude or ' isolationism' is
untenable." We have seen that the meaning of a phenomenon consists
in its relations to other phenomena. It is meaningless to talk about meaning
a priori, or to imagine that the work of art tells us something only by
. representing itself ' . Instead, a work of art is perceived when its physical
manifestations arc ascribed to a coherence-system of (higher) intentional
poles. If this does not happen, it means that we remain uncomprehending,
that is, the work of art docs not tell us anything at all. Flaubert, in consequence, wanted to write a book ' about nothing ' . 70 If a work of art thus
concretizes a complex of intentional poles, we can only describe it by
indicating these poles and their ' share ' in the whole. If we take a point
of view directly opposed to isolationism, and consider art as a political
66 T hrough reformation. cognition and evalu.:uion were given pride of place, and the
non-descriptive concretization reduced 10 frag.
ments.
fi] Compare Thor eau's integration th rough
a voluntary simplification of rhe world .
and didactical tool, we also run the danger of overlooking its concretizing
non-descriptive character. Instead of art we get illustrations to ' scientific '
or ideological texts;" L'A rt pour r Art arose as a natural reaction against
such "contcxrualist' tendencies under Napoleon I, and must be understood
as an expression of the recognit ion that art should not be a mere illustration
to historical happenings. Both isolationism and contextualism are one-sided
in their approach to the problem. Only if we combine the knowledge of
the particular means of art with an understanding for its role in a wider
context may we arrive at a satisfactory description of its character as a
symbol-system. Isolationism and contextualism may also be understood as
theories where one single semiotical aspect is unduly emphasized. Contexrualism thus stresses the pragmatic factors, while the semantical question
how art-forms may carry a meaning is overlooked or reduced to nonartistic relations (photographic or diagrammatic representation etc.). Isolationism, on the other hand, as a matter of course only considers the
purely syntactical (formal) aspects, because the pragmatic and semantic
dimensions are negated by definition, including the case when the meaningless term self-expression' gives the false impression of a pragmatic
component. 1'2
As a point of departure we have to consider the work of art as a
concretizing symbol, which has to be described through a complete
semiotical investigation of the objects making up its pole-system. l'3 Wt'
thus d(fin ( th( work of art as a concretization of an intermediary obj(C!.
As we have already seen, this also holds true for other types of symbolization, and only the semiotical investigation can show us which poles and
symbols characterize the different ' arts' . 7~ In general, however, we may
say that art symbolizes 'value-objects' . While science describes facts, art
' expresses ' values. Art is a means of keeping and communicating values,
that is, it makes values become common. " Art therefore presupposes
cathexis, a participating perception which produces immediate grarification. " Although we therefore are engaged emotionally by the work of
art, it would be a misconception to say that the purpose of art is to
express feelings'. The work of art concretizes intermediary objects, where
our emotional reactions only form one of the components. 71 Other symbolsystems, such as religion and certain ideologies, also concretize value-
68
n
pol~
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.)
oom~ what
';'1 See Morris : Science. An and Technology' , T"~ Krnyon & view 1939.
A~u,
. 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.
10
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.
83
84
85
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 :
9~
10
73
diffe rent aspects of reality, and through the 'integration CC the arts ' one
can create Gnamt ku11StUlerke where this is consciously intended.
But perhaps the most important function of art is to create nao objects.
The work of art can concretize a possible complex of phenomena , that
is, a new combination of known d ements. In this way it manifests possible,
not yet experienced life-situations, and it requests perceptions of new kinds,
experiences which become meaningful according to their relationship with
thc already existing world of objects. Thus the work of art may change
man and his world, and the old saying that 'art teaches us to see the
things in a new way ' is explained. On the other hand, art may also have
a stabilizing ' function in repeating known life-situations. a task which
socially is just as important. 91
74
in
10
this. Obviously, the reproductions are products analogous to the intermediary obccts, with perception and knowledge only as contributing poles.
The experiments of Piaget furnish simple and illuminating illustrations,
To carry out one experiment, he employed matches kept erect by small
bits of plasticine, and two tables, one round and one rectangular. 100 Th e
children had to arrange the matches (representing telegraph poles) in a
straight line between two points on the tables, Th e smallest children, under
3 years of age, were unable to make a straight line even parallel to the
edge of the table, although other experiments showed that they could
distinguish between curved and straight lines in perception. They could,
however, arrange the matches on a straight line drawn on the surface
(or along the edge of the table). The irregular lines made by these children
were based on the proximity-relation; if they were asked to space the
matches a little apart, they were unable to make any line whatsoever. The
reproduction, hence, was not a copy of a perceived straight line (the tableedge), but a product determined by the child's reproductive schemata for
lines in general (succession and proximity), We may also say that a lacking
ability of intending the straight line is evident. 101 Somewhat older children
manage to make straight lines parallel to the edge of the table, but they
fail as soon as the line has to he carried obliquely or outside the centre
of the circle. Characteristic intermediary objects appear. On the round
table they make lines which curve to approach parallelism with the edge.
On the rectangular one they divide a line which should cut across the
corner into two lengths parallel to the sides, or somewhat later they make
one continuous line which curves towards the corner. Evidently the intention of the straight line is mixed with the perceptual influence ' of
the edge of the table. 101 The child is not able to isolate the intention of
what should be produced from the intention of irrelevant elements in the
environment. Only 7year-old children can make a straight line in any
position. Their productive schema for the straight line has become independent, and enables them to direct their intention at any time and as
long as needed towards the goal-object. It is interesting to notice that the
smaller children are satisfied with their products. Docs this fac t imply that
the irregular lines for them represent straight ones? Recalling what has been
said above, we must answer that they do not intend a straight line at all;
75
Pi~gcl
103
Pi ~ge l &;
104
105 Amhcim :
ln hcldcr. op.
ea.,
p. 272_
130.
also because the surface inside a contour seems more dense than its
surroundings.
We have already suggested that a representation through structural
similarity presupposes a choice, and it has been pointed out that it is not
univocal how visual impressions should be reproduced. Sometimes we
choose to reproduce the projective pattern on the retina (perspective draw.
ing), at other times we want to maintain important structural properties
such as relative sizes and right-angles. 106 T he perspective intention reflects
the wish for a particular kind of illusion, which, however, deprives the
the motive of its most fundamental properties. We may conclude that
products are determined by the schcmatizations of the producer, and that
they only become understandable if the consumer' adopts a corresponding
attitude.
Th e reproductive schemata may be analytical as well as concretizing.
Children spontaneously det'dop concretizing schemata, while the analytical
ones have to be learned later. It is a well-known fact that the acquisition
of analytical schemata usually kills the concretizing faculty. To learn
logical methods for the production of concretizing symbols, however, is
impossible. Logically we can only define the ' pure ' d ements embraced
by the concretization, though the ability to realize the synthesis proper
may be helped by exercises. It would carry us too far to describe this
training in further detail; in the last part of the book, however, we will
discuss the question of how to develop the concretizing ability in the
student of architecture. l07
A creative individual is defined as possessing the faculty of producing
concretizing symbols. lO3 When we create an object, it so to speak comes
into existence through the representing phenomena. It is generally known
that the object represented by the created sign does not have to be consciously ' present' during the process of creation. Th e process of creation
is rather characterized by an orientation towards the representing sign.
In this way we have to understand the statement of Ibsen that his Peer
Gynt started to become wilful in the course of writing, while the original
ideas of the author apparently lost importance. When the product has a
high degree of complexity, the process of creation is characterized by a
succession of interconnected intentions. As the structure of the product
77
lOll S= Am hd m's
cit., pp. 75 ff .)
briJ Ii~ nt
10
takes shape, one intention will follow naturally from the other. This may
be illustrated by the known fact that a more extensive and complex work
of art (e. g. a symphony) cannot be created by starting at the beginning
and going on in a 'linear ' way to the end. On the contr ary it is necessary
continuously to keep the totality in mind, and to go from the whole to
the parts and back to the whole. T his state of affairs is expressed by
Jorgensen in the so-called ' law of wholes' : ' Any intention has a tendency
to produce another intention directed towards an object of which the
object of the first intention forms a part. ,109 T he need to create thus may
be understood as the intention of a not yet existing object. 110 To intend
'a not yet existing object' can only mean that the intention is a product
of two or more intentions of existing objects. The creative intention therefore aims at intermediary objects, and presents itself phenomenologically
as an indistinct want. Such intentions are present in all perceptions, of
course, but the creative intention combines poles which have not earlier
been brought together. T he result is not always significant, but often it
tells us something essential. The creative intention usually starts with a
general idea of the goal object, analogous to the experience we have when
we thin k of a piece of music without being able to ' hit upon it' . III T he
products of creative activity are related to other forms of imagery-like
dreams, but should not be confused with these. III By means of the concept
of concretization we have been able to clarify the character of true creations,
and we have also seen that creative activity presupposes the acquisition
of articulated perceptual and reproductive schemata. T hese secure the
closeness to life of the products. T he acquisition of reproductive schemata
implies that we have become able to represent certain structural properties
of our environment by means of common symbols, in the same way as
the acquisition of perceptive schemata means that we manage spontaneously
to experience certain of the public objects in the environment. Creative
activity, therefore, like all other forms of behaviour, is based upon the
socialization process.
Real creative activity, of course, transcends the repetition of known
reproductive schemata. 113 Generally it has to be characterized as a deviation
from ' normal ' behaviour, and important artists rarely find immediate
recognition. But the deviations should not be accidental. Only if they
1m Jiirg~n,cn: P, ykologi .. .,
p. 343.
arise from hidden conflicts in the form of life may they be defended as
real solutions to actual problems, preferable to the more traditional intentions which only apparently are adequate.!" Generally, society establishes very strict laws to control certain deviations (' crimes '), while others
are treated more liberally (t crcative activity'). In practical life, however,
the latter are also subject to an indirect control, resulting from the wish
to protect 'vested interests' in the tradition. Il5 Social control nevertheless
has a very important function in securing order, at the same time as
long-term planning is made possible. Adjustment through socialization is
to be considered the most elementary type of social control. Control in
general is necessary, as the society cannot satisfy all needs and private
interests. Real creative activity, however, satisfies social interests, and should
therefore to a large extent be free from negative sanctions. A practical
difficulty results from the well-known communication-gap which frequently divides the specialist from the public. 116 New products on a high
intentional level will always be spontaneously incomprehensible, and will
therefore be met with reluctance and opposition. The sciences in general
have conquered the resistance and have become accepted academical fields.
Creative activity, however, is mostly condemned by a control which
requests ' popularization' . Slogans and worn-out formulas are employed
to hide the more essential problems. 117 We should conclude by saying that
creative activity plays a fundamental role in changing society. By giving
new intermediary objects public status, it enriches our world . us
CUL TURE
79
u neowly.
119 Culture consists in patterned or ordered
sysrems of s)m bol$ which are objects of the
orient:ltion of ~ction, internal ized components
of the per50nalitie$ of individual :octon and
institu tionalized patterns of social . ptom.
(panoo $: op. cil. p. 327)
80
;t
81
possible.
cularly from this lack of balance, and the architects take refuge in using
obsolete methods.
It is also typical of the present confusion that many want to create a
metaphysical separation between the humanistic and the natural sciences.
We understand that this is a misconception, as the sciences are based
upon common methods. The methods are independent of the subjectmatter, and only tr y to answer the question : ' How do we gain knowledge?' A work of art can be just as well investigated scientifically as a
chemical substance, and the basic methods founded on the theory of objects,
information theory, and semiotic, are common. l2S If it is said that we
should not use methods borrowed from the natural sciences in the humanistic disciplines, this only shows a lack of understanding of the ends and
means of science. We should also repeat that ' intuitive ' methods to gain
knowl~dg~ are illusory. Th e new synthesis of logic and empiricism of our
day has taught us that it is meaningless to assume that domains of know.
ledge exist where the intellect is not competent. Th e unity of logic and
empiricism also implies a unity of theory and pracrice.!" Before, empirical
studies were carried out without the suport of logically organized symbolsystems, while the logical systems of philosophy only had slight contact
with empirical facts, and rather acquired the character of free speculation.
The theory of objects and symbol-systems also makes the traditional
distinction between ' matter ' and 'spirit ' obsolete. ' Physical ' and 'psychical ' objects are logical constructions based upon phenomena which, as
such, can neither be called physical nor psychical; they are only classified
[0 allow for a convenient division of work within the sciences. 127
As the best summing-up of what the concept' cultural development '
implies, we may quote Whitehead: The art of progress is to preserve
order amid change, and change amid order.' nil
schaft. '
W i C. Mortil : ' Scientific Empiricism", in
Encyd oped;a and Unified Sc;eMe, Chiqgo
1937
,86 6.
III A. N . Wbiteho;.ad, Pro.cCU
New Yotk I!P 9, p . 515.
6.l/ d
Bra/ity.
III.
Theory
I.
B6
upon our immediate experiences, also follows from the discrepancy between
the perceptual and the productive schemata. The perception has to be
co-ordinated with the production in order to be relevant. That is, we
return to the request for an adequate attitude. That the experiences of
the beholder may be omitted in the description docs not mean, however,
that the theory should not take into consideration what the psychology
of perception tells us.
We should therefore be careful not to confuse the theory of architecture
with a theory of how to experience architecture." The latter. for instance,
consists in describing how we have to orient ourselves to organize the
situation adequately. Some times we may stroll freely around, in other
cases we should rather follow a prescribed path and experience the forms 12
in a particular succession. 10
The theory of architecture should render an account of the characteristic
dimensions of the building tasks, as well as the formal structures, and of
the relations between these two aspects of the architectural totality. We
have seen that the questions put forward in the introduction cover all these
aspects, and the theory will be complete if we manage to answer our
questions. The theory has to be based upon empirical knowledge (architectural history), but aims at helping the creative architect to plan and
predict, to compare and criticize.
While the theoretical investigation should uncover the possible dimensions of the work of architecture, the immediate experience should grasp
it as a totality; as an intermediate object. Theory and experience therefore
do not substitute for each other, but may help each other mutually. But
we should avoid confusing them.
C ONCEPnJAL SCHEMES
in recent architectural aesthetics and architectural history. Such an investigation would go far beyond the frame of our study. But it is necessary
to consider the suitability of the more important types of concepts.
For our purpose the concepts may be classified accord ing to their
semiotical character. Although most authors have employed the traditional
10 P .
~un
Frank l
tk ,.
n~u
a,,,,n~
88
II The categories go back Upoll th e Viteuvian conctp " of "tililiU, fi"" ital and lI~tUfltas.
(I, m , z).
12 We may. fOI instance, doubt that conventioul types of habitations. such n cue fam ily houses and row-houses. arc adequale
.ol utions to the dwdling as an actual bu ilding
talk .
lJ See the writing> by H. Sedlmayr. G.
v. Kaschn iu-Weinbef g, H. P. L'Orangt:. G.
Bandmann , E. Baldwin Smith , K. Lehmann .
R. Krautheimtt, W. Braunfds, R. Win ko.... er etc.
Prigd '. in Ny
1958.
eipler... T he
P~ll adio.
he lalb about the "standing-rising-carryingre>ting.weigh ing-<:rownin g.morivc ' of an crder (VIII, p. 30)' Lu ndJX".g uses mne CODtt prs
w ithoul pm;ise definitio ns, and his an:alyscs
arc consequently ra ther irrdevant .
----i
."s.
24 The la ~man u.ually cxpu the UI his.
toeian to use concepts whicb help him 10
upuic~ (. understand ') me work of an.
n Even if it is n:l'"irnaJ as rrctan gular
or distorted becauoe of the form al context. it
h,lt 10 be thtnikd as square . The description
has 10 render an ao:ount of the objectiye
stimulus-situatio n .
26 It w.... d ifficult to "",,oid confu.i on wil h
qu a!itatiye concepts before the modern philo'IOphy of b nR"age had investigated the problem of ' meaning ' .
length of the chord is doubled, the fifth corresponds to the ratio 2 : 3 and
the fourth to 3: 4 T he human music produced on this basis was considered
an imitation of the ' music of the spheres' supposed to result from the
numerical relations inherent in the cosmic order. We have no direct sources
which prove that the Greeks transferred these 'ideas to architecture, but
the definition of architecture as frozen music' seems to have very old
roots. Xl In the writings of Vitruvius we find no reference to the musical
harmonies. Instead we encounter the idea that harmony presupposes the
repetition of a module, in such a way that all the parts of a building are
brought into simple numerical relations with each other. 2J Thi s idea is
derived from the organization of the hu man bod y." The Doric column
thus reproduces the masculine proportions with a height which is 6 times
the diameter at the base, while the Ionic column shows the feminine ratio
of I : 9. The Corinthian column, finally, reproduces the slender figure of
the young girl. 30 We thus see that Antiquity tried to define the formal
qualities of architecture with the aid of numbers; the repetition of commensurable magnitudes was regarded as the prerequisite of architectural
order. But we have to underline the fact that the nu mbers were not
considered important by themselves. The numerical relations became
meaningful as manifestations of the order inherent in nature, as known
from the study of the huma n figure and the .celestial bodies. On this basis
columns could also be replaced by caryatides and atlantes.
The architectural theory of the Renaissance united the ideas of Vitruvius
and the Pythagoreans. Jl Alberti thus gives an accurate and detailed description of the proportions needed to give order to the Christian 'temple' ,"
H is theory of the perfection of certain shapes also stems from numerical
ideas, combined with the observation that nature 'prefers the round forms'."
Palladia employed harmonical ratios to organize a succession of several
spaces. In general, Wittkower has shown that the numerical composition
of the Renaissance is based upon the theory of musical harmonies, and
the idea that these represent the cosmic ordcr.." The ideal was a proportionally ordered totality, where 'nothing could be taken away or added without
destroying the harmony', a 'unity in the multiplicity' which presupposed
the repetition of commensurables. The theory of the orders was also taken
over uncritically from Vitruvius.
91
29
Vitruv iu ~,
m. I.
9.
>2 Albrni : op. cit., YD. See C. NorbergSchulz , ' Lc ultimc intenzioni di Alberti ', ill
A d oJ I ~ltitu. tu.m Ro monu m N oJ, tlCgiM'. Vol. f,
Roma IJ.
B Alberti, VII,
IV .
12
,.
9'
1~
C.
Pcrr~ult :
coJonnn.
P ~ri.
1633.
4()
12
fl.
41 Lc CorbUlicr:
195 (1
of Proper-
with the raised arm ' is the basic measure (2.26 m.). Thi s measure he divides
according to the golden section and thus arrives at a scale where all the
dimensions are related. The single dimensions on the scale may also be
added, to allow for a larger and more flexible number. The number of
dimensions is further increased by the introduction of a second scale where
the measures are half of those on the first one. In letting all the measures
of the building correspond to values from the scales, Le Corbusier believes
to attain the desired order, at the same time as the dimensions remain
;; human ' . T he latter idea is new, in so far as previous theories of proportion
only tried to manifest the human order, without using the real siu of
man as a basic measure. Not only because of the varying size of huma n
beings is the idea hardly convincing. That measures derived from the
huma n body are considered more pleasing than others is a typical case
of ;; number-mysticism ' .
It is not our task to compare the organizing power of the different
systems of proportion." Rather we have to investigate how the idea in
general presents itself in the light of the psychology of perception. T he
objection that the foreshortenings prevent us from perceiving directly the
numerical relationships, is, as we have seen, not new. A square may look
like a trapezoid and a circle like an oval. The constancy phenomena show
that the experienced foreshortenings do not follow the laws of perspective.
Furthermore Gestalt psychologists have stressed the fact that shapes change
according to the context in which they appear. Even without foreshorteniogs, a square may look rectangular because of its environment. And still,
architectural history seems to show that numerical and geometrical relationships may produce architectu ral order. T he explanation is simple.
Through the repetition of G~stalt.lik~ motires the numerical order becomes
perceptible. In the interiors of Brunelleschi we recognize without effort
that the square and the semi-circle are used throughout, although we see
the single elements under different foreshortenings. We recognize the
elements because of their general similarity (form-constancy), and sponteneously perceive the building as an ;; addition ' of elementary geometrical
shapes. 43 In Alberti's Sant'A ndrea in Mantua, both the exterior and the
interior are determined by a pregnant ' wall-theme ' , which is varied
proportionally. 4~ T he perceived order is not dependent upon the ratios
93
42 Thil is
do n~
16
17
94
95
47
s~
th ~
Grufl db~gn'D ~
criticism by A. Schmarscw :
d" Kunftw;surucllajt, Lcipzig
18
19
carried through the same symbolical theme under completely different spatial conditions: as a hall' in the Cappella Sistina, as a plastic shape (mass)
in the tomb of Julius II, as a succession of different spaces in the Biblioteca
Laurcnziana, and as a ' dynamic ' baldachine in the Cappella Sforza. 51
One might of course maintain that each of these works has its particular
character, but as the space-form only plays a minor role in determining
this character, it Seems inexpedient to say that we are concerned with
examples of the art of space'. Rather we should say that the characters
m mifest different works of architecture, and realize that architecture is
determined by many diverse factors, among which the space-form is only
one. In the two sacristies we should thus talk about different ' architectural
expeliences", rather than spatial experiences' .
But Zevi surely does not only consider the space-form when he defines
architecture as 'the art of space'. He rather has the total 'spatial effe ct'
(Raumwirkung) in mind. And this effect is determined by the treatment
of the boundaries, by the illumination, and even by symbolical motives
for that matter. Hence it corresponds to what we above called the ' architectural character ' . In other words: by introducing the concept ' art of
space' , one has so far only substituted ODe term (, art of space' ) for another
one {' architecture '). T he one-sided glorification of the space concept in
the writings of many present day architectural theorists therefore seems
to be rather dubious. It does not help much to give the concept a clear
definition, for instance by saying that ' space' refers to a ph ysical, Euclidean
space. Such definitions would work against their own purpose, because
the space concept we arc discussing is intended to cover the architectural
totality itself. As it is absurd to reduce the architectural totality to its
spatial aspects, we have to reject the current diffuse use of the term. In
Zevi's own writings we find the best illustration of the failure of the
concept. To be consistent he removes the Parthenon from architectural
history, on the grounds that the interior space (i. e. the a lla) of the Greek
temple only plays a minor role in the totality. 52 The diffuse space concept
actually stems from taking the immediate experience as a point of departur e : one perceives ' spatial effects' and tries to describe these directly. 53
But in this way a more precise and fruitful USe of the: word ' space ' is
prevented.
51 Sec C . Norberg-Schulz :
Mjdl(/~ "grl(} . .,
97
U!iJl~flKlusft,
diagr~ms
tions.
20
Fr~y :
Gatik u" J
R~"iJJ4"a .
Aug.va
gl~id~"k" Ku" stwUu " sd aft , w tee 1949.
busg
'929.
ti,,"
12
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
6' ScdImayr : 80 ,..,om;" i. p. JJ. T he analysis of the Gothic cathedr al lead. CO different
Gcsulte n, ~bove all the In.ie ' b2ld:l.ch incelements", and co thc com plex orp nil..3tion
of the well. [See Scd!mJyr: D ic E"mr}, ,,ng... ).
6lI Scd l m ~yr : 8 0rrom;" ;. p. 2J. ' Ma.n kommt
hci der Bescbreibun g de s Gebildes nicht m il
hlos. ci"cm Struklu rprin z ip ~u . Man brauch!
Ct" Prinzip, da ss die Verhaltnisse de r Raum
teile, ein a"dercl , d~" die Octe der Saulcn
erkla rl, und noeh andere aur Ableilung weiterer T aua chen . [edem .soIchcn S1nlktlll'prinri p cnu pneh l eiM: ' Schich!e' .i nnvollcr
Z U<Jmmcn b.ii nge inner h...lb des Gebildes.. '
21
22
100
~n
70 Sedlmayr : Borrominj, P.
95.
an~logou s
woeu
ULM 4).
of possible factors and combinations. Alth ough the theory should be able
to cover the architectural structures of any epoch, this does not imply
that architecture has an absolute basis. In itself the theory is ' empty' .
The theory consists in dimensions of comparison which make possible
the description (analysis) of any architectural totality (intermediary object)."
In the previous section we have discussed some of these dimensions, but
we have so far left out several conspicuous aspects of the architectural
totality.
The most obvious of these aspects is the technical structure, that is.
the role of materials and buildi ng constructions. Firstly we understand
that the technical dimension docs not form a part of the building task.
T he technical possibilities surely belong to the prerequisites the architect
has to take into consideration, but this does not prevent technics from
being a means to the solution of the tasks. As both form and technics
belong to this categor)'. one could imagine the possibility of bringing them
together in a unified means-concept. This , however, is not expedient. The
syntactical analysis describes formal properties without asking how the
forms are materially constructed. It is also an empirical fact that the
formal organization often stands in oppositon to or is independent of the 16
construction. 76 A confusion of form and technics would furthe rmore result
in qualitative concepts like ' load-bearing forms' . In describing certain
buildings the formal concepts may dominate, while others above all demand
the employment of technical terms. 77 It is therefore necessary to establish
the technical dimension as an independent category, next to the building
task and the form. The distinction between technics and form, however,
is not always evident. The character of a surface (texture, colour) is for
instance a function of material properties. And still it has to be understood
as an aspect of the formal dimension. We can express this state of affairs
by saying that the diffe rent materials have particular formal possibilities,
while their technical possibilities consist in their faculty of carrying weights,
spanning over, dos ing off and insulating against, and not least in their
ability to be worked into technical clements which constitute technical
systems. Th e role of technics in the architectural totality will therefore
be treated in a separate chapter. 78
102
;~
78 Vi:ru vius ,I ready diWngui.hed the technin! aspect u a $epar, te category (jirmi /4S.
I , Ill, 2), and most theorists have followed
him. U~ua1ly. ho...-ever. the technical dim ension is treatecl in iroliuio". In some cases it
has been given prime im portmce, especially
by Semper who d erived the form (.tyle) from
she technical meth ods of production (lkr Sril
in aen tednisdU':n u na u ~ron ;K"'en Xi",n e1l .
1861>-63). T he same tendency has turned u p
recently in the ...T iling. of P. L. Nervi , who
says tha t the main task of the architect is
-e conceive the t<'Chnical S!'.: em (Coltrui . e
Co"~tttlmen u, Milano J955).
Another problem which has to be discussed, is the fact that any building
belongs to an environment and forms a part of a larger context. Thi s may
consist in its relationship to the local topographical conditions (the building
site), to the landscape in general, or to other buildings and semi-architectural
elements (terraces, freestanding walls, fountains, monuments etc.). But it
may also consist in a functional relationship to other objects; in other
words, the building task it serves forms a part of a more comprehensive
task. ' T he relationship to the environment' , therefore, above all designates
certain aspects of city-planning." From these suggestions we already understand that it would be inexpedient to introdu ce the relationship to the
environment as a new basic category. Rather it appears as subordinate
aspects of all the other dimensions. It enters the definition of the building
task, the technical solution has to be in accordance with the local conditions
(soil, climate etc.), and the formal analysis naturall y has to take the surroundings of the building into consideration. so \Ve may describe a work
of architecture functionally, technically and formally, and the aspects of
the environment have to be distributed under these headings.
The light as an architectural factor also has to be distributed in a
corresponding way. T he need for a certain illumination generally forms
a part of the building task, and the geographical conditions will determine
the possibilities for a natural ' illumination. The light is also a formal
factor, through its intensityJ as well as through the distribution of lighter
and darker zones, reflections, transparencies, and sources of illumination.
Finally, we recognize in our time the technics of illumination as a separate
discipline.
Another problem we so far have skipped is the so-called ' scale ' . In
contr ast to ' proportion ' J which designates the interrelations of physical
dimensions, ' scale ' designates the ' real' size. The real size obviously has
to be measured relative to a dimension of comparison, such as the metre
or the human figure. ' Scale ' , therefore, is usually employed to designate
the relationship of the sizes of a building to man himself. As buildings
serve hum an actions, any building task will prescribe a particular scale. 51
Of interest to us is the fact that the architectural form varies with the size.
The properties of a particular formal organization change when it is made
very large or very small, and the organization may dissolve completely if
13
31
'4
2S
11
In principle
o:at~gories
n cormponds
.. tilittu,
tI'<"1lusWs ,
to Vim.viu. '
firmitas.
19 Thi. totality,
how~ver,
is oft~n
d~f~~liv~.
at a formal structure, or in short, a form . Frank l has used the terms ' row ' ,
'group ' , and ' hierarchy' to design ate some types of formal structures. We
will try to carry this classification further. It is also importan t to examine
the problem of the "formal Ievels". The building type , for instance, may
be considered as one level. A basilica has its particular possibilities as a
type, but the type can he combined with the most diffe rent spatial and
plastic levels. The style also belongs to the formal dimension. We have
already referred to the results of informa tion-theory in saying that the
norm used as a dimension of comparison for the judgement of the individual work, is the mos t probable formal structure possible within the
formal language in quesdon. " We may characterize a style by means of
these probable structures, hut it is always difficult to distinguish between
the most probable and the slightly less probable. It is therefore more convenient to let the concept ' style' cover all the elements, relations and
structures which form a meaningful system, with the qualification that
they appear with a varying degree of probability. Thus the terms ' style'
and' formal language' are synonymous. The formation of types is closely
connected with the more probable aspects of the style. The investigation
of types and styles presupposes genetical studies, having the formal decclopmcnt as its subject-matter. We also have to render an account of the
capacity of forms and styles, that is, their ability to receive contents. The
capacity of the forms varies according to their organization and articulation. Finally, the formal investigation leads up to a making precise of
concepts like quality and originality . The formal investigation needs support from the psychology of perception and from system-theory, We have
seen that Gestalt psychology, and above all, the studies of Piaget furnish
important information. When later applying our theory to a problem like
architectural perception, it is also useful already to possess an appropriate
terminology. As architecture serves man, it seems natural to introduce
psychological concepts rather than abstract mathematics.
The technical dimension is analysed by describing how technical elements are made from materials and organized into technical systems. The
capacity of such systems has to be investigated, that is, their ability to
realize building tasks. Log-construction, for instance, has a very limited
106
capacity. The problem of style, however, docs not pertain to the technical
dimension. A technical system really aims at perfection, and does not give
information through the employment of more or less probable solutions.
A technical system, therefore, is not a symbol-system, but a means to realize
a symbol-system materially. 94 Architecture reduced to the technical dimension is only able to take care of the simplest physical functions.
T he question of the role of technics makes us approach the semantical
aspect. What relations exist between task, form , and technics? Is it true
that 4 form follows function ' , or has Mies van der Rohe introduced a new
and fruitful approach to the problem by inverting this slogan? Is the form
always a mediator between task and technical realization ? Such questions
have to be answered in the chapter on architectural semantics. In describing
the interrelations of thc dimensions, we return to the concepts of ' convention ' and ' structural similarity' . The semantical relations are of central
importance to our theory because the architectural problem par excellence
consists in the co-ordination of forms and tasks. If this aspect is neglected
we will end up with empty forms and unsatisfied needs. " The chapter
on symbolization furnishes the basis for a solution of the semantical
problem. T o facilitate the semantical investigation it is important that the
three main dimensions are described by means of structural properties.
In this way they can easily be correlated.
When the semantical contact between the dimensions has been established, we may return to the architectural totality. This consists in replacing
the logically correct description with a perspicuous and relevant description.
The relevant description assigns different degrees of importance to the
different poles, and aims at understanding the work of architecture as an
organism (coherence-system). Hence it indicates the formal aspects which
are connected with relevant pragmatical components, as well as those which
are mere by-products". M T he relevant description thus explains the architectural inten tion . We will call the complete procedure a structural
analysis' . Th e structural analysis tries to understand the work of art as
a 'small world ' (Sedlmayr), that is, as a concretization. As suggested
above, qualitative concepts may be introduced to cover certain aspects of
the totality. The qualitative concepts designate wholes formed by melting
together several analytical dimensions. Such concepts might also be called
10]
ot""
33
108
2.
INTRODUCTION
building tasks, classify the items and analyze the properties of the classes.
This procedure would lead to a general definition. The method, however,
is cumbersome and involves the danger of tying ourselves to the actually
existing building tasks, without seeing important possibilities for a revision
of these. In the preceding. we have suggested that this method should be
supplemented with an investigation of those aspects of the object world
which may be related to architecture. In the following, therefore, we will
use physical, social, and cultural objects as dimensions of comparison. and
by means of historical examples examine their contributions to the building
task. An historical survey shows that the contributions are changing.
Sometimes architecture primarily has symbolized cultural objects, while
the practical ' aspects have dominated on other occasions.
Physically, architecture constitutes one of the most important aspects
of the environment, and if we also take semi-architectural elements into
consideration, such as roads, squares, and gardens, we arrive at a network J of interrelated components which are connected with practically
all human activities. Architecture participates in these activities by forming
a practical frame, an adequate psychological background , and by expressing
that what takes place is of importance to the community. (It may of
course also ' participate ' by forming an unpractical and unfortunate frame.)
1"9
Originally all these aspects were unified in a general demand for protection to secure the survival of the species. The clothes may be considered
den ersten Angrifl des Menschen auf die Umwelt ",1 and the first buildings
an extension of the clothing. But the simplest tents and huts already fulfil
several practical functions which the clothing does not master. Besides,
they give visual expression to a social structure; while the clothes are private, the house is normally used by several individuals who live together
in an ordered way. In the earliest civilizations it was impossible to distinguish between the practical arid the religious (magical), and the house
must immediately have got a meaning transcending its purely practical
purpose. The door, for instance, had a particular importance as the element
which closes, opens and makes invisible." A Sumerian bride, thus, received
a door as part of her dowry. T he idea of seeing the symbolical as a derivation of the practical, therefore, is a modern misunderstanding. The need
for protection above all concerned the 'demonic forces' in nature, and
the climate and the changing seasons were attached to magical ideas. J
We have seen that the same attitude may still be studied among primitive
people, and we have given an outline of their object-world which differs
fundamentally from the scientific one. For primitive man, the world
(environment) is full of magical forces.
Th e first pennanent huts in Sumer were built by bending rushes,
witho ut removing the roots from the ground. Th e rushes were tied together
at the top, and the arches formed in this way were connected with horizontal sticks. Th e resulting hut had its roots in the ground , and hence
was unified with the element from which life gets its nourishment. We
still use the expression ' mother earth '. 4 Another primitive means for the
control of the environment ', is the fenced enclosure. Here, too, we find
the same characteristic synthesis of practical, social, and cultural functions.
In Egypt, where the rainfall is extremely scarce and outdoor life therefore
of prime importance, the enclosure probably from the beginning formed
a part of the house. ' But magical ideas are spontaneously introduced :
Dcr crste architektonisch folgcnrcichc EingrifI in die von magischen
Gewalten durchwirk te Umwelt war wahl die He raushebung und Einhegung cines Bezirkes, des Tcmenos, der so in cin Sondervcrhaltnis zu
den Machten gebracht wurdc. H icr solltcn sic wohnen oder hier soliten
IIO
2 w.
Andr~e:
25
a part of the ' social milieu '. Finally, architecture may represent cultural
objects like religious, philosophical, or cosmological conceptions. Together
with the social aspect, this ' cultural symbolization ' makes up the symbol.
milieu. II The building task, thus, will be studied in further detail by
means of four dimensions of comparison.
P HYSICAL CONTROL
Light
Sound
Smell
Things (dust, smoke, insects, animals, persons)
(Radio-activity).
Most of these factors arc 'geographical ' , and we understand that the
physical control above all is concerned with the relations between the
building and its surroundings. T he environment affects the building with
energies .....hich have to be controlled. In principle, this may be extended
also to comprise movements of persons and goods, but we find it convenient to include these problems under the heading ' functional frame".
In saying that the physical control consists in relations between the building and its environment, we anyway imply that it depends upon the human
activities the building should serve. According to the functions of a
building, the needs for heating, illumination etc. change. An architect,
therefore, does not have to study climate (geography) or physiology in
general, but needs only abstract what is directly related to the physical
1I 2
26
U For the influellCe of climate on arehitecture sa: E. Egli: Du N~ Sl4tit in !..ImJschll/l u"d Klimll. Ziirich -Erle n~h. For the
problem of physical ro ntrol in city plann ing
see L. Hilberseimer : The New City . Chicago 1944.
tkipate.
F Ul'o"CTIO N AL FR .....ME
architectural frames, where the number and the sizes of the spaces may
be changed at will. Z9 The need for flexibility may also result from the
expansions or retrenchments of a firm. Modern office-buildings, therefore,
usually permit a free subdivision of the inner space. In this way new
occupants can adapt the functional frame to their particular needs. We
should be careful, though, not to generalize the flexibility idea. Some
building tasks comprise a need for flexibility, others do not.
In general we may say that the functional frame should represent an
action-structure by manifesting the spatial, topological, and dynamic characteristics of the functions. To render an account of the functional aspect
of the building task, we have to describe these action-structures. We may
thus talk about ' rows ' (' series"), ' clusters', and ' groups' of actions. In
the first case the actions follow each other in linear succession ; a precessional road with ' stations' is a characteristic example. Clustered actions,
instead, arc actions which have to take place close to each other without
necessarily having defined interrelations. A shopping-centre may contain
cluster-structures: certain shops should be situated together without, however,
a determined order. The term ' grouped functions' , finally, designates an
organization where the character and position of each d ement is precisely
determined. A dwelling contains such action-structures. T he functional
structure of a building task may be called the functional theme' of the
architectural totality.
T he functional theme can never be studied in isolation. Its functions
will always be related to the functional aspects of the surroundings. From
the smallest utensils to the most encompassing geographical environment,
there exists a functional continuity. T he artifacts serve actions which are
also related to the architectural frame. Such actions may have a cert ain
independence (e. g. the functions of the dwelling), but in other respects
they make up superior systems (such as neighbourhoods) which in their
turn form larger wholes (cities etc.). We will characterize this state of
affairs by talking about 'functional levels' defined by individual properties."
The geographical distribution of the buildings of man is due to particular factors. Paradoxically we may say that the basic problem on the
highest functional level, is the fact that mankind at the same time has
to concentrate and scatter ; scatter to exploit the riches of the earth, and
II6
26
l~
in
151
tf.
27
"7
T aken together, the physical control and the functional frame make
up what Gregor Paulsson calls the 'physical milieu ' . From what has been
said above, we understand that the physical control is an abstraction from
the function, as any action-place needs a particular artificial climate. Many
action-places belonging to the same architectural totality, however, may
need the same climate, and the "climate-structure", therefore, does not
correspond to the functional structure. The physical milieu also asks for
two different types of relations : functional connections proper, and controlling 'filters' . It is therefore natural and convenient to distinguish
between the two subordinate dimensions of the physical milieu, and to
study these separately.
Scen t,
0.:1.=
MILIEU
u8
28
1
1 .-
"9
Th e life-situations are interconnected, and some have a particular importance as a focus for the changing situations of daily life. Birth and death,
confirmation, graduation, and wedding are such central occasions in
the life of the individual and the family. T he collectivity knows other
' symbolic ' situations; in the past the coronation and the sanctification
were expressions of the common values. ~ l T he milieu, therefore, does not
only consist of different meaningful expressions. but of a hiaarchy of
such. Its single expressions are correlated to particular activities. Often
this correlation is a mere matter of habit, we are accustomed to employ
certain physical objects on particular occasions. But we must also recognize
the fact that a certain physical environment only fits certain activities.
Th e habits, therefore, are rarely accidental. T his is, however. a semantic
problem which will be treated later. At present we will only stress that
any activity has to take place within a psychologically satisfactory frame.
Investigations show that the architectural frame may be favourable or not,
that is, that it influences our attitude;" Hence we could also define the
milieu as the psychological effects of the surroundings. Although any tourist
recognizes that a city, a street or a square can have its characteristic
'atmosphere'. the milieu problem is still hardly taken into consideration
by the architects. H A planned milieu also serves a purpose in human
communication. It creates expectations, guides our thought and our
behaviour, disappoints or satisfies.
We have used the theatre to illustrate the concept ' functional structure'.
What has been said above makes us understand that the reason for the
architectural varieties of the theatre, in spite of relatively constant physical
functions, is that it expresses changing human interactions, that is, the
contact between the stage and the audience may be established in many
different ways. Th e spectator also has a ' role ' in the performance, mainly
assigned him by the architectural frame. In the classical Greek theatre
the spectators see each other across the orchestra , they belong to the
scene. The narrator addresses the audience and thus stresses the fact
[hat the spectators really participate, that the plot takes place h(T( and
now. The actors, the chorus and the audience belong to the same
R( lllitiitssphiire. H In the Roman theatre the high SC{1(na and the pulpitum
[ace the audience. The scene is transformed into a picture (relief). The
11.0
27
Baroque theatre introduced movable scenes which gave the stage spatial
independence. The' distance' between the stage and the audience reached
its maximum in the nineteenth century when the audience faced a purely
illusional word. From being active participants in an interaction, the
spectators had become passive on-lookers, an intended relationship determined by the architectural frame.
While the creation of a relevant milieu still plays a subordinate role
in the design of single buildings, 4~ it has gained a certain importance in
city-planning. As a reaction against the chaos of lonely individuals
in the modern metropolis, we have the demand for ' neighbourhoods'
where the inhabitants know each other and can participate in positive
interactions. Only in this way can the ' we-feeling ' develcp. " Problems
of this kind have created the so-called social geography which aims at
defining the 'human contents' of the environment. 4~ Instead of run ning
away from the big city, we should make it inhabitable and inspiring.
In the past the cities were cinlization itself, the native soil of thought .
art, and crafts. The individual could draw from the experiences of
others, and in spite of feudalism and political bondage social life was
in many ways richer than in the present confusion. Wh ile this confusion
is mechanized and passivating, the cities of the past show that human
intercourse has a stimulating effec t, and must be considered the main
prerequisite for the cultural development. 49 A culture is characterized
by the common institutions which result from human interaction. When
man in early times made an enclosure, he defined a domain diO~r~n t
from the free nature, a domain giving visual expression to the community.
Gradually domains of different character were developed, according to
the purpose they had to serve, and when a roof was put on they became
buildings. One particular domain was always of prime importance, the
public square, where life could unfold in all its variety. The Greek agOTa
originally was a meeting-place, and only later became connected with
commercial activities. The public buildings were joined to the agora but
usually they did not open directly onto it, as if to express that the square
should be reserved for the citizens. The Greeks distinguished three ' qualitatively' different zones in their cities: the acropolis of the gods, the
agora of social life, and the enclosed houses of private life. Thus the
i{i
25
28
29
I
Greek city had a meaningful architectural form, which corresponded to
the: social structure. T he milieu offered the necessary possibilities, and
formed a par t of the cultural totality. 50
T he idea of differentiati ng the environment according to th e social
structu re has (unconsciously) determined most of the urban organisms of
the past, and also the individual buildings. 51 We have reasons to believe
that the problem will again come to the fore. So far , one has been content
with attempts at making functional architecture more ' expressive ' 'without, however, stressing th e need for an adequate (relevant) expression.
T o solve this problem, it is necessary that the architects incorporate psychological and sociological information in the definition of the building task.
T he social structu re has to find its counterpart in a hierarchy of <milieucharacters ' .
C ULTURAL SYMBOLI ZATIO N
90
in book IV,
I.
II.
conditions. The objects are manifested through social roles, groups and
institutions, and by the physical objects serving social life. We find it
convenient, however, to distingu ish between the two aspects of the symbolmilieu, as the cultural symbolization may also take place jndcpcn d~n tly
of the formatio n of a social milieu. A culture is also characterized by
being transmitted in spite of the existing social situation. Thus we are
still able to "u nderstand' Michelangelo or Beethoven. The discussion of
the symbol-milieu also becomes clearer if we avoid mixing social and
cultural objects in a diffuse way. It is important to distinguish between
interaction and value, even if they often appear as as{>C'ts of the same
state of affairs. Wh ile the social objects and the social milieu always
man ifest the cultural objects on which they are founded, the latter have
a certain degree of independence.
An example may illustrate: this fact. When Brunelleschi built S. Lorenzo in Florence around 1420 , he broke with the current Gothic style
and realized the first Renaissance church. He did not therefore create
a new social milieu; rather he symbolized new cultural objects. T he break
could of course have been made in such a way that it influenced the
social milieu. This would have happened if his solution had not been
acceptable as a 'stage' for the ritual. The existing social milieu thus
demanded that the church building should symbolize certain cultural
values (religious objects) which could not be touched by the ' experimenting ' architect. But Brunelleschi was allowed to 'illuminate ' these in a
new way, that is. to place them in a new phenomenal context. Sol
We may conclude that an y social milieu indir ectly symbolizes cultural
objects, while the cultural symbolization can also take place directly by
letting particular architectural forms designate particular cultural objects.
The two possibilities may also be combined. 55
T he most characteristic case of indirect symbolization is represented
by roles and institutions which explicitly manifest a higher object. The
King and the Emperor thus have generally symbolized something more
[han a soci al status. Th e Roman Empero rs claimed to be divine, and
their portraits gradually developed into a fixed "divine type '. 56 T he
Imperial palace also manifested the divine order represented by the
Emperor, it became a palatium sacrum where every part was related to
mn""
16
6Z ScdIm.:.}T:
&}
cp . cit. , p.
II.
13J
'" Sedlmayr : Die Enw eh" "g.... pp. 1 fi .
The tam ' rose-window' is misleading, .as the
round window undoubtedly symbolizes the
sun. Th e sun was considered a manife~ta.tion
of Chriu or bi~ Glory.
" Scd l m a~r :
~M
G.
19H
(,'I P~rticularly characreriseic are the meg~_
lithic' tempI... ' on M~ lt~ . Sec C. Ceschi:
Archi/m"ra d(i k m pli m(g:1/itiri di Mal/a .
Roma 19J9.
..
35
36
3.
was placed in the cave, symbolizing H ieros Camos, the sacred wedding. 70
Th e symbolism gradually became transformed, but it is still perceptible
in the cosmic cave' of the Pantheon.
Th e changing definitions of the roles of the actors and the audience
in the theatre also have a symbolizing function. In the Greek theatre
the actor appears as a plastic figure, as an individual. In the Roman
theatre the scene has become a relief', and the actor represents a different
conception of man. Today again we tr y to interconnect the stage and the
audience. But now the sputators are no longer surrounding the small
ordered world they have created, as in the Greek theatre; instead they
are surrounded by the world on all sides (the ring-stage). Th ey are not
intending an illusion as in the Baroque theatre, but are placed in the
middle of the incessant self-changing energies of the phenomenal world.
In the nineteenth century architecture turned away from cultural
symbolization. T he meaningful forms of the past were devaluated, dome
and pediment were used to dignify ' museums, banks and other institutions, and the stained-glass window was introduced in the private dwelling. " Only recently the demand for cultural symbolization has again
come to life, because we understand that modern architecture needs this
dimension to create a meaningful environment. 72 T he cultural objects
of our time of course differ from those described above, and although
some may exhibit a certain invariance (such as some religious objects),
these also participate in the formation of new intermediary objects.
One may ask if it is nrccssary that architecture should directly
symbolize cultural objects. As a human product of a pronounced practical
character, architecture has a particular ability to show how our values,
how our cultural traditions determine our daily life. Only through cultural
symbolization can architecture show that the daily life has a meaning
which transcends the immediate situation, that it forms a part of a cultural
and historical continuity. Th e other arts are not able to fulfil this task in
the same way, because they do not so directly participate in our daily
existence. This is probably the reason why architecture is considered the
mother of the arts'. When integrated with architecture as a meaningful
whole (Gt samtkunstwrrk ), the pictorial arts, and even music and drama,
become directly connected with life. Thi s implies that any picture does
[ 26
35
27
3.
Scdlm~ }'r,
Vu lt/fl . . .
p. 9'"'.
The preceding sections have suggested that most building tasks comprise
all the four dimensions We have introdu ced. The physical control is
interconnected with particular functions, and the functions on their hand
are determined by social conditions which presuppose the existence of
cultural objects. The four dimensions not only allow us to render an
account of the functions, interactions and values which make up the
building task, but they also make a comparison and classification of the
building tasks possible. Architectural history thus shows us that the building tasks have usually fallen into two characteristic classes : tasks of a
mainly practical character, and tasks where the higher objects play a
more decisive role. 76
The differentiation of the building tasks becomes always more necessary
as the complexity of the civilization increases. While a relatively restricted
8~ .
98
M Giedion:
Sl Morris:
Arch il~kwr
Vari~ti~s
G~t>1~;IJJc"afl .
,,,,d
of Human
V"lu~,
p. 83.
--:
13
8:: Ruesch
&. K~, :
op. cit. , p.
!J6.
134
38
39
39
40
41
pu~
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
, Thi.
h<l~
10 For in<uncr
43
l.I~
<lnd flv'ocjuc
the rustic.>Oon of
Ren~i l
~r dl it""""tl1re. Cen:~ in
tyP"
dua l 1lOOn.
II Few ronn:nirno::e ..." employ the ward s
14 dMign.>tc the purdy I4po1ogial
propntin. and pml."try ' 10 cks igru.tt the
projccu~ .. EOOidcan <llpccu.
'lopoIo~'
50
It The dncripcion of fbe space-form depmds upoa the interpr'ft.lDcm of the boun
d.arics.
' 37
50
50
'39
the elements diffuse. " We should also notice that the combination of
conflicting elements has to be evaded, if we do not intend an expression 52
where the conflict becomes meaningful. JO
them Jill_ .
in da Italienischen Archilektu.r.
.\I.u ti .. W.,..k""""g<'f. KOln 1951i).
M~iKn ...,
F~ltKAri"
R ELATI ONS
T he term ' relation ' denotes a lawful way of distributing clements. Formal
relations necessaril y are tri-dimensional or 'spatial', as the dements are
mainl y masses and spaces. In certain cases we encoun ter bi-dimensional
relations, for instance when we analyze the organization of a bound ing
surface (fa\ade). Our exposition, therefore, may be based upon Piaget's
investigations of the space-conception. with information from Gestalt
theory as a supplement. Firstly we should take a look at the topological
relations, and afterwards turn to the more or less developed Euclidean
schemata.
T he most elementary topological relation is proximity, If a num ber
of elements are placed close to each other they will form a cluster or
group. The expression close to each other' has to be defined more
precisely. It seems to be important that the distances between the clements
are fairly equal, and that the distances do not exceed substantially the
size of the elements. In a collection of clements at varying distances
from each other, sub-gro ups will form , separated by the larger intervals.
The proximity relation is not concerned with the form of the elements
or their orientation to each other. In primitive architecture it plays a decisive role, a state of affairs we should expect, as it is the most elementary
ordering principle. jl The proximity relation has kept a certain importance
throughout architectural history, but usually as a part of a more complex
system of relations. Proximi ty not only may determine the groupi ng of
buildings, but also their inner organization, sueh as the distribution of
mass- and space-elements and the treatment of the bounding surfaces.
It also determines the relation between buildings and the surro unding
land scape, as it may assign to a group of houses figure-character against
the landscape-ground.
Related to the proximity relation is the conception of closure, We will
use this term to denote organization by means of a continuous outer
53
28
54
33 The term inlerpe nelra l;\>n' was introduced by F rankl (Ent,.,;ct.1''''K$pham ,). A.
an eumple we may point to me f~ of
S. Agnor: in Piazu Nuon a .u planned by
Borrom ini. (Sec Hempel ; Borron""i, Wi<;n
192.4, pl. ')0).
55
56
as such. Although the in terpenetration in principle is addit ive, we will
give it status as a separate category. to let the term' addition ' denote
relations without ambiguous manifestations. 31
The relation which bridges the gap between the topological and the
geometrical schema ta, is similarity. T he Gestalt psycologists have pointed. 6
out that similar elements form group s. T his phenome non is of fund amental
im portan ce to all higher types of structure; we have even seen that the
abstraction of similarities form the basis for the very concept of order .
An order depends upon the possibility of indicating elements as similar
or dissimilar. T he similarity may be merely topological, or may consist
in an exact correspondence of all the pro perties of the d ements. j9 In the
present context it is important to point out th at sim ilarity and dissimilarity
can be used to form relations like repetition, contrast, and dominance. 57
T he repeti tion of similarities is essential to 'open forms' where d ements
m ay be take n away or added without destroying the composition. This 100
relation should not be confounded with the topological succession where
dissimilar elements form a row, A repetition is not dependent upon a
strict topological continuity, as the similarit y of the elements creates
coherence, T he term s contrast ' and 'dominance ' express th at the
d ements are classified according to their similarities, and that one class
ma y do minate the others. Colour, texture, shape, size and orientation
contribute to th ese relations. Dommance ma y also be due to a partic ular
treatment which produ ces a ' strong Gestalt ' , T he mediaeval church not
only domi nates the town because of its size, but also because of its form 57
and perhaps because of its east-west or ienta tion which often differs from
that of the other build ings . In the landscape a common orienta tion of
several dements may create a unified figure-character, and the repetition
of directions suggested by the land scape itself ma y join the buildings to
their surroundings. A mass-d ement is chara cterized by its orientation:
seen at an oblique angle it maintains its massivity; in a frontal view, 8
however, it is reduced to a surface. ~ I
T he geometrical relation s are conveniently classified as the orga nieation of elements relati ve to a point, relative to a line, and relative to a 58
co-ordinate system. These basic relat ions ma y also be com bined. Organization relative to a point is usually called 'ce ntralization' . This relation
oI{l
.Jll
' i nl~rpeneu:nwn'
ua -
i nta~tion.
"".,r_
41 The se two possibilities arc exhi hit~ respectively by classical Greek and by Rl'''I an
architec ture.
'43
59
61
62
60
65
45 Mies van der Rohe often employs symmetry, hu t the axes do nO! prescribe the mOVCmm ts of the beholde t. T hey arc only ernphasiaed lines belonging to the organlz 'ng
co-ord inate system.
46 T he term Was iotnxloced by the auth or
in a joint artide with A. Korsmo (' Mie, vao
der Rohe ' , Byggeku/1'/ No. 5, 1952), where
Mies" project for a house with thr ee courts
from r9'7 was compared with a 'similar '
ne use without guiding walls. Obviously the
guid ing walls are e.\Se ntial to obtain the intended fusioo of the spaccs.
47 Several examples of guiding dements are
given in C. Nc rberg-Scbulz : ' Om rommet i
arkite ktu ren ", Hygg(kU/1st, ' 952.
48 For instance in the temples in Boghaz keuy and the palace of Kllos,os. Tend encies
toward s axial organizat ion arc present, e.lpedall y in connection with the en trance. (Sec
Boghazkeu }', Te mple 1, in Wacht, mu lh : D a
Raum I, Marburg 1929. p. 7r).
63
oblique angles. " But the repetItion of oblique angles may also have an
ordcring effect, as shown in certain present-day experiments. so The oblique
angles arc more flexible relative to irregular building-sites, but it must
be emphasized that the usc of accidental or varying angles leads back
to purely topological relations. A gro mr tri ca! order is only possible through
the: repetition of angles which form a system, such as IS, 300, 45", 60''',
and tjl'f. Determ ined angles may also imply an accentuation of the horiz ontal-t-crticai directions, an elementary schema, which is in harmony
with most functions and natural conditions. If we let the directions
conn:rge towards a point, we create perspcctirr relations. Perspective is
mostly employed where optical illusions are intended, such as making
a room look longer or shorter than its real ' length. 51 Through a
systematic usc of parallel lines we arr ive at the most comprehensive
system of relations, the co-ordinate systrm. A developed co-ordinate system,
repeats determined directions and dimensions throughout. T he co-ordi nate
system. however, is not always all-comprehendin g. We kn ow. for instance.
examples where the ma1S-structure is determined through the repetition
of the same basic d imension (module), while the spaces arc accidental
intervals 51 Th e opposite may also happen, especially when a building
is planned by means of a grid ' . The lines of the grid do not take the
thickness of the mass-elements into consideration. and irregularities arc
created. In general a co-ordinate system implies regulating lines in several
directions. Architectural space, however, has never been fully Euclidean,
that is, isotropic. There is always a difference between the extension on
the ground-plane and the extension upwards, owing to the fact that man
stands on the gro und. We should therefore regard recent attempts at
basing the architectural form upon tri-dimensional grids with a certain
skepticism.
A spac~ formed by means of a comprehensive co-ordinate system has
a weaker figure-character than an enclosed ' special ' space-element . Rather
it is a neutral continuum exhibiting a certain want of expression. It has,
however, two potential possibilities. Firstly it may serve as a ground for
mass-element s, and secondly it furnishes the 'raw material' for space
elements created by emphasizing, leaving out, or connecting points in
the co-ordina te system. Such modifications of the system may consist of
'1-4
66
4~
v~ n
Sl
gi~
70
51 Arnheim: A rl.. . . p. 3.
5i Temple I, ooghnkeuy.
55
~kd inet
~her :
D;~
Wu,d~rr",;rmu ng
145
61
62
71
F ORM AL STRUCTURE
146
' 47
53
,2
67
68
73
64
at
terture
tl.e Annent Orient . Harmc ndsworth t954. p. 'j) .
148
75
65 For
ewe,
insl~ nce
76
0"
16
spolii.1'5
It is not enough to say that the d ement has to belong to the system.
It also has to be assigned a particular role within the system, that is, a
particular element may only appear in prescribed places. We are not
allowed to arrange the dements of the system freely, but have to obey
certain ' rules' . While present-day architecture has tried to free itself
from such restrictions, the systems of the past assigned clearly defined
roles to each motive. T he reason is, of course, that the motives were
meaningful parts of a coherent symbol-system. 76
A formal structure generally consists of primary and secondary
clements, or exhibits a still more complicated hierarchy. The primary
clements are by definition basic to the structu re; if they are taken away
149
70
7S
pp.
ff .
77
78
the composition disintegrates. 77 In ana lyzing a formal structure it is th erefore essent ial to ind icate the elements which may be taken away without
produ cing thi s effect. An elemen t dominating because of its size is usually
primary, and when the structure is based upon a co-ordinate system , the
primary clements have the task of defining the point s and directions of
the grid. If the structure is axially determ ined , the primary clements 62
emphasize the dire ction and the possible goal of the axis. 78 Because of
their decisive impor tance, the pri mary elements may only sligh tly deviate
from the ' theoretically correct ' solution . The secondary ones, instead,
may be treated with a relatively high degree of freedom , though care
mu st be taken that they do not interfere with the primary elements. This
freedom , however , does not impl y that the secondary elements are artistically more importa nt th an the primary ones. T hey only participate in
the structure via the primary eleme nt s. i'9
The distinction between prima ry and seconda ry elements should not
be confounded with the relation of the main shape to detail s. The main
shape is often secondary and is assigned its cha racter by prim ary details
(subdivisions, corners, opening s etc.). T he same stereometric fonn can
thus be characterized as an addition , a division , or an interpenetr ation
accordin g to the treatment of the details. In general we should again
stress the im porta nce of the bou nding surfaces.1IO O rnament and decoration 44
are usually emp loyed to characterize th e dement s as primary or secondary , 52
but may also be used to produce an intended amb iguous effect. ~ l
Just as important as the distinction between primary and secondary
eleme nts, is the realization that th e formal str ucture com prises several
, lerels", In a compl ex structu re the org anizi ng pro cess will take place
in several phases. Cer tain subordinate element s, for instance. will bu ild
up a bound ing surface, wh ich on a hig her level (and by means of
different types of relat ions) acts as an d ement to form a mass- and for
space-structure. These, for their part , may again participate as elemen ts
in a larger whole (such as a 'spatial composition "), whi ch again becomes
an element on a stiil high er level. B1 An amorphous cluster of inarticulate 53
mass-element s has only one level, while a differentiated urbanistic org anism
has many. T he distinction between different form al levels takes into
150
i9 A. Ehr enzweig turns the matter upsidedown when he want s 10 mak e the ' inarticulate de raib' the carriers of the artistic exprc$.l lon.
.0 Scdlmayr has >hown how Borrom ini' ,
str ucture is a- function of me boundi ng surf~ . .too he talk. a-bour ' d ie: trim le . stereomerri..:he Strubur d er na.cklen Form'. (Borrom i"i. p. ~).
consideration the fact that the same formal structure part icipates in several
situations, and that its aspects change according to these. Different
relations may govern the different levels (that the d em ents vary is included in the definition of the concept of ' level'). A bounding surface
may thus be organized geometrically without having to participate in
the formation of a geometrical space." Or the mass-elements may have
a general geometrical character and form geometrical groups, while
their bounding surfaces are articulated topologically. Different geometrical
relations may also appear on different levels. This happens when a surface
is articulated by means of a geometrical ornament which has nothing to
do with the main structure. A single level can also get a double structure
by means of the use of combined relations. If the relations governing
the different levels are interrelated, we will talk about a continuous
structure. T he simplest example is furnished by a structure where the same
type of relation is used on all levels, for instance the general employment
of a module or a co-ordinate system. ~ T he structure of the lower levels
will in this case have the character of a 'condensation ' of the higher ones.
A continuou s structure should not be confounded with a diffuse totality
where it is difficult or impossible to distinguish between different levels.
T he levels may form a hierarchy, in other words : the primar y elements
may appear within one particular level. This is often due to the fact that
one of the situations where the building is participating is so important
that it comes to dominate the structure . A structure, thus, may be determined from ' above' , from' below ' , or on an intermediate level, or the
levels may have eq ual importance. A clear formal description should treat
the levels separately. One could, for instance, start with the main shape
and proceed gradually to the smallest details, or vice versa, or in other
cases it may be convenient to start on an intermediate level. Generally the
analysis is facilitated if the primary level is taken as the point of departure.
T he distinction of levels expresses the articulation of the structure.
Articulation (diffe rentiation) docs not only imply the use of pregnant
elements and consequent relations, but also the definition of prima ry and
secondary parts and the establishment of interrelated formal levels. Most
forms are redundant. Th e primary elements are repeated or emphasized
in such a way that the danger of misinterpretation is reduced. 85
'5'
61
16
71
100
15 2
153
the theme and its variations are primary elements which characterize
[he form in question.
In the preceding we have given an account of the more important
properties of the formal structure. We have suggested that the structure
may be simple or double, monotonous or hierarchal, special or neutral,
articulated or diffuse, consistent or contradictory, univocal or ambiguous,
continuous or discontinuous, etc. 97 An exhaustive investigation of all
these aspects belongs to a specialized study of architectural form, as a
continuation of one of the problems indicated in the present book.
We should, however, take a brief look at some structural problems
of particular interest. T he first refers to Frey's distinction between ' simultaneous' and 'successive' forms. We understand that these concepts
correspond to our categories ' row ' and ' group ' . A row is by definition
formed through a succession of clements, while the elements of a group
have several 'simultaneous' relations to each other. Rows and groups
may be combined, for instance by ordering a part of a duster relative
to an axis. A group can thus be more or less homogeneous. The categories
of Frey therefore do not add anything new to our exposition." The
dependence of a structure upon illumination and the changes of the
seasons also form an interesting problem. We have already mentioned
that the elements demand an adequate illumination to be effective, and
the same holds true for a complex structure where it is of particular
importance that the primary elements are d early perceptible. 99 It is often
interesting to investigate the changes in illumination a certain structure
can support. 100 In a climate where the changes of the seasons bring change
of environment, such as green summers and white winters with naked
trees, it is essential to develop formal structures which participate in a
meaningful way.
Our investigation shows that the formal structure can be very complex.
Its 'meaning ' consists in several rdatitdy independent aspects reflec ting
the fact that a building participates in many different situations. This
implies that one of the formal levels may become obsolete, while another
one is still satisfactory. This is the case, for instance, when we disagree
upon the preservation of an old quarter in a city. Its spatial organization
is no longer practical, while it still fulfils an important milieu-function.
154
9:
. l r UCIUfC
155
101 se e
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<,mctr ical
call~d
forms.
4-
In the preceding sections we have investigated the possible formal properties of the individual work of architecture. The concept of style tradi tionally covers formal properties common to a collection of works. So far
one has defined "style ' in terms of such common properties. This kind
of definition may serve to classify the single work s. although it is often
difficult to place a work where some stylistic characteristics appear, whereas
others are Iacking. !" T he traditional concept of style, however, does not
allow for a judgement of the originality or quality of a work of architecture.
One might object that the quality is something intrinsic in the single work
as an insclhait concretization, and that the quality may not be "measured'
by comparison with other work s or with a superior style. But we have
over and over again shown that a form only has meaning within a system
of forms, and that the idea of independent meaningful forms is a misconception. That an independent, that is, meaningless form has quality,
is an absurd statement . lOS A form can only receive a content if it belongs
to a system of forms. Such a system we call a "styZ('. But the concept of
style is not satisfactorily defined by the indication of a collection of formal
traits, or by the description of an "ideal ' structure. We have seen that
information theory solves the problem by showing us that the elements
and their combinations within a symbol-system app(ar with varying degrees
of probability. Certain clement s and combinations appear frequently, others
rarely. Furthermore, we have all the elements and combinations which
are foreign to the system, and which perha ps belong to other systems.
Th e concept of style must be defined on this basis, as a "statistical ensemble" 1fl6 Two kinds of probability are relevant. Firstly we have the purely
formal or syntactical probability which is described through an investigation
of the properties of the syst~m. Secondly we have the pragmatic probabilities resulting from the actual usc of the forms. If a form with a low
syntactical probability is repeated often, it will lose its originality, and if,
on the other hand, a probable (banal) form is avoided it will seem inter-
'56
lO'S Su, h i>ob ted fortn s ('fa ndcl') are ccrtainly po"iblc, but re main meaning less.
lli6 Cherry: op. cit., p. lOR. Such ~ concept
of style has tJ<,en introduced by Meyer.
esring or even ingenious, when it is finally used. 107 We also have to notice
that certain forms are expected in connection with certain building tasks.
T his is a semantical problem which impl ies that we cannot put a sign of
equality between formal and architectural quality. A formally interesting
form becomes meaningless if it is used wrongly. IU:l
T he description of a style must employ the concepts developed to
describe architectural forms in general. In this way the placing of the
single works relative to the style is made possible. Firstly we should
characterize the style in terms of a probable level-structure, and thereupon
investigate the probabilities within the single levels. 109 A work of architecture may very well be original on one formal level and conventional
on another. As the levels norma lly form a hierarchy, however, we can
generally decide the' real ' originality. A work which is original on all
formal levels will seem revolutionary'. A system which consists of one
level only and which employs simple elements and relations, therefore
only permits revolutionary or banal solutions. Th e simple structure of
popular art, for instance, offers so few possibilities for deviation that an
apparent originality of expression has to be created by means of secondary
ornaments. T o a certain extent this holds true for the ligh ter romantic
music of the nineteent h cemury and especially for presen t-day popular
music. 110 Within an art iculated system we may express instead significant
nuances without leaving the system. The original creation, hence, docs not
consist in breaking the system, but in using the system iud! in such a way
that it unveils new' hidden' possibilities. 111 The originality of an element not
only depends upon its properties, but also upon its place within the structure.
T he style therefore has to be understood as a very complex dimension
of comparison which enables us analytically to place the indi vidual work,
and which through intern alization as a system of expectations (schemata)
forms the basis for an adequate experience. The style is a cultural object
on a higher object level tha n the single work. Whil e the individual work
has one de termined physical manifestation, the style has an infinite number
of such manifestations. While the individual work concretizes a particular
situation, the style concretizes a collection of such situations; in principle
it may concretize a culture in its totality. T he stvlc therefore has a stabilizing purpose in society. It unites the individual products and makes them
157
bilit~,
11 0 We ha ve alread y mention ed Ehrenzwdli' s mi<con eeption when j(ivi n~ th e secondJry orn,llnents prime ; mport" n, ~ .
111 Originality eom im in intt nJrJ Jr ~ia
,i,, 111 frum the most probable. Th ~ deviarior a
arc meanin gful lx:e~ u,e they happen within
r ~~ lY'I~"' , We recall L. B. ~kjer \ excellent
term 'designed un(er.~imy'
158
83
84
85
50
1\6 VulgJr art, therefor' . does not contnhute to the stylistic d evelopment.
IIi Thi, does not mean, however. that it
the never-ending stylistic development. The meaningful new creation always belongs to tradition while, the traditional, vulgar-conservative product is banal or meaningless. III
CoNCLUSION
160
4.
Technics
In the followi ng we do not intend to give a survey of the technical problems of building. OUf task is only to render an account of the Tole of
construction in the architectural totality, and with this purpose we should
tr y to arr ive at a definition of the technical dimension.
The technical dimension is usually treated in two different ways. Some
take the materials as their point of departure and talk about 'wooden
constru ction' , and ' reinforced concrete constru ction ' , a classification which
is employed in architectural practice and which appears in many handbooks. 1 Others take their point of departure in what the construction does.
It gives us founda tions, walls, floor and ceiling, staircases, doors, and
windows. AU these part s of the building may be carried out in different
materials. ~ In our opinion it is neither satisfactory to take the materials
nor the above-mentioned ' elements ' as a point of departure for an investigation of building construction. In both cases we arrive at a fragmentary
knowledge without really having understood the term technical system '. 3
With this term we designate an ordered repetition of a limited number
of techn ical dements. T he d ements can be made up of one or more
materials. T he simplest constructional method ful filling this criterion is
masonry of cut stone or brick. To explain the importance we give to
the term, we have to anticipate some semantical considerations.
The construction is a necessary means of solving the building tasks.
We have seen that the building tasks are ordered, that is, they may be
described in terms of a collection of interrelated factors. T he building
task, for instance. usually demands an ordered repetition of defined dimensions. The formal structure also depends upon the ordered repetition
of precise dements. T he construction can only serve these structures by
possessing a corresponding (or related) order. Adjustment to an order
necessarily presupposes order. But the technical dimension also exhibits an
6 When we t.:lh the conecpt of ' tech nie~l systcm ' as t he point of departure for our account
of the technical dimension , it is to i ntegrate
it more easily in t he architectur al theory . For
the arcni/u t it is essential to reg ard thc
techn ical d imen,ion in thi, way a, he ha s to
solvc t he bu ildi ng task as an int egrat ed whole.
i Domed clay-huts arc know n on reliefs
from Nine'ch, and are still used in Syria.
(See L. Velthcim -Lotmm : Kleine Wd lg e.
"'h ichu du <tadtilCh ~n WOhllhl1l1Ul , Heidelberg ' 952, pr. 43, 48).
8 Tech nical systems based on the r ight angle
are of pr imc importance because of the adaptability of rcctangu lar space-cells. (Sec Yell
heim-umum : op . dr., pp . 50 ff .).
M ASSIVE SYSTEMS
W~
Tn~
A massive system is defined as consisting of elements which are simultaneously bounding and supporting. All the elements of the massive system,
therefore, have the same technical purpose. The elements of a massive
enclosing system are thus (approximately) isotropic masses, which arc
either built up through addition of subordinate elements (such as bricks),
or cast as a monolithic mass which may be decomposed analytically into
equal sections. 9 T he same holds true for a massive covering system. While
the enclosing system offers full freedom for the formation of space-forms,
the covering system is highl y limiting. A horizontal covering depends
upon the tensile strength of the material employed. This resistance is rather
low in most of the materials used in massive systems." Massive enclosing
systems therefore usually have been combined with coverings of the skeleton type (beams, girders, trusses). Massive covering systems proper, however, are exemplified by domes and vaults, where the material is subject
to compression. The Roman method of concrete construction realized a
complete massive system permitti ng the covering of large spaces and
offering a certain freedom of space-forms and placing of openings. Thi s
freedom has become complete with present-day reinforced concrete where
the reinforcement makes it possible to guide the forces. Reinforcement,
however, often implies an introduction of the skeleton principle, as the
mass loses its isotropic character. Also for other reasons the skeleton is a
natural consequence of modern concrete. II
A real massive system is thus characterized by the approximate equivalence of all the technical elements. Its surfaces and masses, therefore,
arc in principle monotonous and inarticulate, while the space-forms, because of the covering problems, are limited to a few elementary shapes.
The size and placing of openings is also restricted, and the openings acquire
figure-character with the neutral mass serving as a ground. A certain
articulation is possible through a sculptural ' treatment of the elements.
The massive construction can only serve building tasks possessing a simple
functional structure. The architecture of the past has very often been a flight
against the limitations of the massive systems. The building tasks have generally demanded a richer structure, and to satisfy this demand the massive
87
10 Wood i. the only exception. In legwnnruetiun Ih~ wood i , U5~d to form a maSS
ive sySle m. For covering ' p,u;n. wood is
usually employed according to the skeleton
prmciple.
It See Xc rberg-Schulz :
88
' ~er,i .. . .
construction has been covered with fictive members giving the illusion of a
skeleton construction. II Or one has tried to transform the massive wall
into a skeleton. U T he insufficiency of the massive systems thus has been
counteracted by an approach to the skeleton system. T his fact explains
the aversion of modern architects to massive construction, and it is natural
that we no longer construct illusory skeletons when modern technics makes
it possible to carry them out in reality. 14
89
90
50
91
3.
S K EL ETOS SYSTEMS
164
13 An embracing skeleton becomes cernpleldy closed through centr alization, Enr in.
sunee in the Palazzi delle Sport in Rome by
:'<erYi.
One of the most interesting possibilities offered by the skeleton system is the
formation of flexible stru ctures. The embracing or closed skeletons must be
understood as special cases within a general theory of skeleton systems. 19
T he secondary parts can be of many different kinds. Th ey may for
instance form a complete secondary skeleton which embraces new subordinate elements. Such a secondary skeleton becomes necessary when the
primary skeleton has very large spans. Wind-pressure and the need for
attaching windows and other bounding elements demand a reduction of
the spans. 20 A secondary skeleton articulates the structure. The secondary
dements proper may be: divided in couermg, filling , and free-standing
d ements. A free plan usually demands all three types. If the grid-units
of the skeleton are adjusted to the functions, only covering and filling
d ements have to be: employed. 21 But the functions are usually so complex
that a regular skeleton is unable to adjust itself completely. Free-standing
elements become necessary.
We may also imagine skeletons consisting of flexible grid-units. Through
an ordered contraction or enlargement the adjustment to the functions may
become perfect. In this case free-standing elements are superfluous. It is
doubtful, however, whether such a system can compete with an embracing
skeleton where the subdivision of the spaces is taken care of by means
of free-standing or movable partitions.
A problem of great importance when planning skeleton systems is the
technical connection of the individual parts, the so-ca l ed joint'. The
joint determines the stru ctural possibilities of the skeleton and therefore
belongs to the theory of skeleton systems. But it would carry us too far
to consider this problem in further detail. 22
T he introduction of technical skeleton systems has brought forth a
discussion whether one should 's how the construction ' or Dot. 23 In general
an accentuation of the primary skeleton is implied. But we also know of
attempts at letting all the technical elements ' express' their role within
the system. T he problem is formal rather than technical. T here is of course
no technical reason for emphasizing particular members, for instance by
means of different colours. But a logical realization of a skeleton system
naturally leads to a certain articulation, often because the primary and
secondary elements have to be made of different materials. Th e question
94
ArcMuktur,
94
then arises whether one should stress fur ther this articulation, or rather
try to counteract it. Both solutions are possible. To repress the primary
skeleton would mani fest an intention contrary to the one which prod uced
the fictive orders of classical architecture. In the past the construction was
'enr iched ' because it did not satisfy the building task . We cannot say
that this was wrong. It only becomes wrong when the technical means to
escape fictive members are available. The demand for' technical honesty '
therefore has not an absolute character. If today, for practical or economical reasons, we use an unnecessarily rich skeleton system to serve a
simple task, it is neither wrong to repress or moderate this structure. But
the skeleton systems are so flexible that this adjustment can usually happen
without going against the nature of the system in question. We may for
instance avoid emphasizing the primary members visually. If we instead
want to ' show the construction ' , this has to be done by means of a clear 94
definition of each element. 24
While the massive systems have simple and relatively amorphous properties, the skeleton systems offer the richer possibilities for articulation. 25
Because of its repetitious and hierarchical properties we may characterize
the skeleton system as 'architectural ', while the massive system is ' sculptural '. But the skeleton system ' an sich ' is schematic and needs a sculptural treatmen t of its members. Modern concrete-technique, in particular
as developed by Nervi, realizes a unique synthesis of the possibilities of 93
the skeleton and massive systems, where continuity and plastic shape
are combined with repetition and hierarchical order. The technical revolution of the last 100 years therefore becomes something more than a
technical revolution. It has given the technical dimension a new role in
the architectural totality. The technical systems of the past were relatively
simple and could never playa leading part. We know exceptions, but
usually the construction was an insufficient means to create architectural
order. The skeleton systems, however, have such a rich immanent order
that it would be foolish not to exploit the possibilities they offer. The clear
construction not only gives coherence to the building because of its repetition throughout, but also makes possible the articulation which previously
was achieved by means of fictive members. This is the new and decisive 76
role of the technical dimension in the architectural totality. 26
166
5.
Semantics
focm does
not
of
one-family houses, instead, are: often determi ned by the Imitation of traditional models which originally represented solutions to quite different
building tasks. The se: houses, therefore, man ifest a narr ow and dubious
in tention of irrelevant cult ural pole-objects. To defend the assertion that
there should exist a correspondence: between the: solution and the task, it
ough t to be enough to point to the: fact that any function has its ' structure '
which necessarily has to be taken into consideration. Obviously we do not
chop wood with a hammer, but it should be just as evident that we: do
not eat pastries in a Gothic cathedr al. We: could also express this state of
affairs by saying that architecture not only frames the functions, but
actually participates in our activities. We walk 0 11 the floor, we close doors
to be: alone, and we: open the windcvv for ventilation. What has been said
above about the perception (usc) of objects, shows that thi s participatio n
is 'lot merely physical. The thin gs arc always perceived with a meaning,
because they participate in activities which belong to a series of interrelated
object-levels. " T he perceived meaning may also result from our having
learned the conven tional symbolic import of things. An y house, thus, immediately symbolizes aspects of the cultural objects basic to a form of life.
We have also sugge:sted that the spatial organization of a building should
have .t structural similarity ' to certain aspects of the: building task, such
as a complex of more: or less interconnected actions. We: may conclude:
that the: formal levels ought to re:presem a system of functional levels.
If we investigate these problems somewhat more closely, we will find
that there arc several kinds of semantical relations determining the architectural totality.
SE.M." NTICAL kE LATtONS
168
Il~roque
by .
be based upon signs which in principle are freely chosen, provided they
are common (public). We should, however, point to the fact that the conventional signs employed arc usually abstracted from an original state of
structural similarity between a form and a building task. " The dome
originall y portrayed heaven, and only later became a conventional sign
with a more general sacred character , assigning a certain ' digni ty ' to
the architectural solution. A form which is exclusively based on conventional signs, therefore, consists in an addi tion of separa te meanings , without
considering their interrelationships. We may still use the word 'form '
because of the topological organiza tion of the signs. We have seen, however, that the building tasks usually possess an order which trans cends the
topological relations, and therefore requests a certain co-ordination of the
formal clements. When the forms accordingly are brought to correspond
with the structure of the task, we talk about' structural similarity '.
The iconic form is defined in terms of its stru cture and fits all the
content s which have a corresponding structure. Causally determined or
conventional elements may be parts of an iconic form. We cannot main tain
that a door (a ' filter ') portrays anything, but the more comp rehensive
spatial structure to which the door belongs may have a logical form which
corresponds to certain action-structures. The concept of ' structural similarity ' has been explained before. We should, however, repeat that structural similarity (isomorphy) is basic to any description. " A scientific
description aims at representing a structure wh ich is characteristic of the
object of the description. To carry out the description the scientist uses
conventional symbols which are put in the necessary relations to each other.
The single symbols, for their part, are also defined in terms of structures.
Conventional signs, therefore, are ' abbreviations' of a structural description. II To be able to talk about structural similarity, it is necessary first
to render an account of the structural properties of our basic dimensions
of comparison. In the previous chapters we have tried to do this, and we
have introduced several concepts common to the dimensions, such as
' element' and ' relation ' .
The iconic relation is of the greatest importance because it makes the
concretization of relevant intermediary objects possible. The cathedral has
to be understood as a very complex icon which represents the decisive
17
to Children ord er cardboard d isc, of nrying sizes a, a family_ The larg est d i,e' arc
th ~ paren t" others are aunt s and un cles, and
the sm alles arc childr~n (See Wern~r : op . cit.) .
J1 Scient ific d escrip tions ha ve become mor e
and more ab,tract , but w~ ,h ould r emember
tha t the general aim i, alw ays the Slm e, th at
i,. the [ram btion of a ,tructu re int o anoth er
me<:l ium .
higher objects of the period. " Th e iconic form may be more or less 33
directly portraying, in the literal sense of the word. The seven steps of
the Ziggurat ' portray ' the seven heavens which make up the cosmos. IJ 95
Th e church, on the other hand, does not portray ' the Mystical Body of
Christ ', but only some of its manifestations. H The iconic relation was
extremely important in the architecture of the past, and is probably just
as ancient as the causal connection. " We have mentioned that the column 34
originally was erected to represent the phallus, while the cave represented 35
the womb from which the new life comes. 16 The combination of these
two iconic elements created the first real works of architecture. In the
megalithic temples on Malta the hardness and power of the stone is stressed 36
by the definition of straight lines and plane surfaces. While the dolm en
and the cyclopic walls directly' exhibit their symbolic weight and permanence, the Maltese wanted to represent this content by means of par
ticular lines and directions. The force of gravity was abstracted visually
from the rude, inarticulate matter. T his abstraction furnished the basis
for the development of an architectural symbol-system comprising conventional signs. We understand that an architectural symbol-system consists
of conventional signs abstracted from iconic forms. Th e signs form a part
of the cultural tradition and may be used over and over again to make
up ever new formal structures. Th ese structures represent more or less
complex building tasks and are therefore iconic signs on a higher level.
Th e higher structures can also become conventional signs. When we talk
about the 'space-conception' of an epoch, we refer to formal principles
which have become conventional signs, and determine many different
architectural totalities, giving these a characteristic common stamp. While
the iconic representation in principle is special or insdhaft , the conventional
symbol-system furnishes general elements which make it possible to solve
diffa~n t building tasks with the same basic means. T o illustrate what has
been said above , we will give some examples of conventional and iconic
symbolization.
Social roles are represented by means of conventional forms. The royal
castle is a building type fulfilling this purpose. Th e representing form
may of course possess a structural similarity to some of the functions
performed by the role, but this is not necessary. 17 In no case can a role
'7'
12 Scdlmayr:
Di~
p. 19.
V"'J~" , KO~nhavn
IS Scdlmayr :
Kunst.
A,ch;~ktur
16 Kaschnitz - Wcin~g :
iseh,"" ..., prlSsim.
als
IJbbilJ~" d,"
Die mittelmeer-
tcrrnscnfiirmigcn
Him -
the earth is a sphere; " Ideological objects are also often represented. The
democracy of our time is reflected in the equality of all building tasks,
an idea which frequently leads to an anarchy of architectural forms. But
if democracy in principle docs not admit difference in absolute status,
this does not imply that we sh~uld not be able to distinguish between a
church and a petrol station. In the Soviet Union a particular type of
' skyscraper' has become a conventional sign for ideological objects. 24
Finally, we have to mention that economical objects may be intended,
both by letting a building look more expensive than it is, and by manifesti ng a difficult economy through a poor and primitive forma l structure."
Summing up we may say that the physical milieu is taken care of by
forms causally connected with the: functions, and by giving the organization
of these forms a structural similarity to the functional structure. The
symbol-milieu is satisfied by conventional elements whose organization
also exhibits a structural similarity to the structure of the higher objects
comprised by the building task in question.
The exactness of the structural similarity should be discussed briefly.
Through generalization we may establish classes of building tasks and
develop a corresponding formal system (style). Such a general formal
system will only allow for an approximate. adjustment to the individual
building task. 26 We could instead let the formal structure fit the individual
situation 'like a glove' . In this case we obtain a perfect immediate satisfaction, but also a certain lack of visual order." The real solution, therefore,
seems to be the creation of double or triple structures where one level
remains fairly constant and expresses that the building belongs to a class
(type), while the other levels are adjusted to the individual situation. 28
A building task usually comprises functional, social, and cultural poles.
Th e form is correlated with these poles through different semantical relations. T he same form can thus be causally connected with the functions
and represent conventionally a cultural object (e. g. the column). The
formal structure may also be composed in such a way that some d ements
satisfy the physical milieu, while others belong to the symbol-milieu. 29
The semantic relations may even vary within the single formal level, A
semantical analysis of an architectural totality, therefore, is often a very
'73
Inc
~~ Th is"
case in man y of du: housing
devd opm.,nts u rric:<! out in Norw ay :aha the
S<"<:ooo wmld war.
]f) Th is is the method of Mie.
van der
Rohe.
~7
,
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
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
C.U.-\C ITY
' 75
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.
1]6
active and real only through a semantical correlation with building tasks.
Particular forms are at particular times given meaning by particular
semantical relations. The forms arc devaluated when the semantical dimension is neglected. Devaluation is not a forrnal problem, but has a
seman tical character, and imports that a form is used without the adequate
correspondence to the building task. 45
Today we usually demand a full correspondence between the form and
the technical realization, and even let the forms arise as results of technical
experimentation. Semantical investigation, however, tells us that the correspondence between task and form is more important, and that this is
the only means to combat visual chaos. The importance given to the technical dimension in our time stems from the need for industrializing the
building activity. Industrialization, however, presupposes a repetition of
equal problems, that is, the establishment of a limited number of classes
of building tasks. On this basis technical systems ought to be developed
which possess the necessary properties to satisfy the classes. Under a developed industrialization the technical systems will be given in advance.
The practising architect only has to choose the system which fits the cask
in question best, that is, to create a semantical correspondence. Industrialized technical systems, therefore, have to be defined in terms of the
structural properties which determine their semantical capacity. This again
stresses the importance of interpreting the technical dimension of the
architectural totality as a collection of systems, rather than as a knowledge
about materials and technical details.
' 77
4
99
6.
' 79
01"'.
2 Some of th" polc -objccu, esJ'CC'ially tunc non al ones, can not be d efined independently
of cert ain formal properties.
180
6 In other word adC<jU3tc semanncal rebrion. m3ke the work of architecture become
alive.
7 Th e intention of irrcle"30t forms i. usu :lily called ' form3Iism'.
g
un drd ,.. a totality. It cannot eomc into existence by ' aJd ing ' the conU'ibulions of technical specialim.
9 For insuncc the fictive orde rs of classical
3rehi=e. ""lIich Ue maning'e.. wilen
judged lechn ie<llly. bU I highly rcle" ~l wilen
understood 3S parte of <In architectural tOl::l1ily.
!O Til" sasne Iorms can participate on sevcral Incl. . StUi gbt lines and right :""gles
may be tech nically determined at lhe same
time ~s they have a fu nctional and symbulic
imporlance.
84
90
Pp- 7 !t
32
33
fum~1
1925.
,
accidentally connected with an historical occurrence. " We must repeat,
however, that architectural quality depends upon a correspondence between
meaning and form. 20
To conclude, we should repeat that an architectural totality consists
of poles from all the main dimensions. As an intermediary object the
work concretizes the pole-complex. Th e main dimensions have to be
semantically co-ordinated, in other words, forms and constructions acquire
meaning when being connected with a building task. 21 The term ' formal
language' expresses that the forms are given with meanings . If we combine
elements from a formal language (style) in a new way, we only create a
meaningful form if the combination fits an actual building task. Th e
semantical co-ordination depends upon the articulation of the dimensions,
in other words, articulation is essential to the architectural totality. The
scheme element-relation-structure is present at all architectural levels.
Semantically co-ordinated aspects are relevant, and determine the architectural totality. The structural analysis describes the structural properties
and indicates the relevant aspects. Architectural quality depends upon
relevance and articulation. Architectural systems are classes of architectural
totalities characterized by particular types of concretization. Architectural
history renders an account of totalities, systems and developments. H istory
describes analytically and can only use "qualititative" concepts to name
totalities and systems.
INTENTIONS IN ARCHITECTURE
184
task; " If only the technical aspect is intended, we should talk about
' building ' rather than ' architecture ' .
When considering the totalities which exhibit a satisfactory co-ordination of the dimensions, it is convenient to take the building tasks as the
basis for a classification. T his follows from the fact that the building
task is the point of departure for the architectural solution. While a
classification in terms of formal or technical factors would isolate architecture, a classification in terms of tasks unites the architectural totalities
to the form of life in general. An architecture which is determined by
the need for a physical milieu, may be called ' utilitarian ', while an
architecture determined by the need for a symbol-milieu could be denominated as mon umental", 24 We also know totalities where both
intentions are equally important;" The distinction is valid at all levels of
planning , from the smallest artifact to the urbanistic whole.
In utilitarian architecture the physical control dominates in some cases,
in connection with relatively diffuse functions which only need a rather
schematic frame. At this lowest level, the task will only determine the
technical realization of the boundaries, and eventually the sizes of the
spaces. When the functions become more differentiated, the form and
topological distribution of the spaces also have to he considered. T he
space-form, instead, is only prescribed by very special functions. Regular,
determined angles, for instance, arc rarely functionally necessary; rather
they are technically determined, or form a part of comprehensive formal
systems (styles) which can satisfy the higher aspects of the task. 26 Primitive
architecture is generally described by means of the topological schemata
which are common to the task-structure and the form. Some iconic or
conventional symbols, however, will usually enter the description, as
primitive architecture is rarely purely functional. Th ese symbolizing
dements may have the character of decoration, or the form al structure
itself may be symbolizing. " In a society where the building tasks are
differentiated, one tends to distinguish between the purely utilitarian
and the symbolizing tasks. In Europe the farm-buildings and the urban
dwellings have traditionally a utilitarian character. As the basic way of
life has been relatively invariant throughout history, utilitarian architecture
acquired a rather constant character, only coloured' by varying needs
milieu.
25 In primitive architecture the two inten-
distinguish~d_
98
,
for physical cont rol (regional differences). The stylistic changes, instead,
were expressed on special buildings, and manifested changing formations
of religious, philosophical, and social objects. The dwelling thus only in
part records the changing aspects of society. Today the dwelling has
become a ' leading ' task, as modern individualism has induced man to
want his personal symbol-milieu. The problem is usually solved by a
'romantic ' imitation of motives." The modern dwelling, therefore,
reflects especially well the social and cultural chaos of our time. A fellowship probably has to be expressed by means of a certain uniformalization
of the dwellings, while the individual house, ' tailored ' according to the
taste of the client, necessarily has a negative influence on the community.
A certain uniformalization of the dwellings to stress their utilitari an
character, only indirectly cxpresses the fellowship. T he symbol-milieu
must find its direct expression in monumental architecture, that is, in
solutions which manifest the cultural values which are basic to the social
milieu. The symbol-milieu, as we have seen, is dependent upon a formal
symbol-system which is capable of representing social and cultur al structures iconically. We have also seen th at an articulated architectural
symbol-system presuppo ses a certain geometrization, because the pregnancy
and adaptability of the elements are a function of their geometrical
properties. While the functional situations possess a high degree of individuality and only to a limited extent contr ibute to the formation of types,
the symbol-milieu manifests the objects common to the ind ividual
situations. A higher architectural structur e, therefore, normally represents
a particular symbol-milieu. A physical function can usually be satisfied
by many different means, but the symbol-milieu demands that we make
our choice between these means. 29. Th e symbol-milieu asks for the devcloprnent of parti cular structures and types, which of course should not
be in conflict with the functional demands. 30 If this happens, we would
have to character ize the symbols as inconvenient or obsolete. In this way
the single functional situation is understood as a part of a wider sociocultural context. The works of monumental architecture, which concretize
the central poles of the symbol-milieu, have to possess the highest structural
pregnancy and art iculation within the architectural system. I I
186
2, T he imitation of an old farm-h ouse obviously is not det ermined by the original
int entio ns . Instead , the house ha' become the
manifestatio n nf a cultural object. In. other
words, certain forms from the pa' t have lost
their functional and iconic character, and
have become conventional sign' , Th i, process
is eharaeteri' tic of 'romantic' ~rt .
99
57
thus hu
188
r&)
IV.
Outlook
In the first part of the present study we put forward several questions
which the theory of architecture as such does not answer. T he theory
renders an account of architecture as an object, but it does not explain
the experience of architecture, the production of works of architecture,
or the problems connected with the education of architects. The theory,
finally, does not treat of the more special problems of architectural
criticism and historical research , These: four fields are not comprised by
the theory, but fonn its most important applications. The theory thus
enables us to control our perceptions, and indicates how the relevant
intentional depth should be defined. It furtherm ore defines the factors
which determine the production of a work of architecture, and it makes
it possible to discover whether a particular solution is satisfactory. The
theory also offers a necessary basis for architectural research in pointing
out the problems and in ordering the results. Research without a theoretical
foundation is a blind activity, which at best leads to fragmentary knowledge. The theory, finally, indicates what the would-be architect should
learn, and organizes the individual subjects taught at the school of architecture into a whole, to the advantage of the student as well as the
professor. We have maintained that all these fields today are characterized
by insecurity. T his situation is probably permanent, because: of the everincreasing complexity of our form of life. A corresponding development
of the theoretical insight becomes necessary.
Our attempt at giving the outlines of an integrated theory of architecture, therefore, stems from practical problems, and we should render
a short account of its more important applications : experience, production,
analysis, and education. We do not pretend to solve the problems, only
to hint at their definition and to show how the theory may help us in
treating them.
'93
1.
Experience
the symbol-milieu.
196
'97
I As we b ,k psy,holog;ul experiments OR
architect ura l paeepcion, w e can ner discuss
tbest prob lems in further <'!et:a il.
9 Ter ms like ' ugl y' :and 'prctty' designate
d iffuse exper iences.
10 Compm: }okra', exposition of m usical
~ceptio R (EmoJio"
p. 43).
198
U Formal structur cs including optical iJlus;ons ~r~ particularly dependent upon pr~
scribed view-poin ts.
15 Th i, should not be confounded with
Frey', di,tinc tion betwe~ n ' simultaneous' and
"successive.' structures. A complet~ simultaneous ,lructure may r~'l u ire thaI the hehold er
move" while a ,imple succession can be ~X _
perienced from one position. This, again,
shows thaI il is nec~"a ry to dislinguish between Obje<;l and ~ xper i~nce.
16 W~ d o nol experience a building or a
s'Juan as an isolated phenom~non , but as a
part of a comprehem ive urban organi, m . T his
organism 'colour, ' th~ perception of the parts.
Ii For im lance the stage in Palladia' , Teatto Olimpico, or th~ colonnade by Borromini
in Palazzo Spada.
Th~
allitud~
to appear. This, of course, does not imply that we should give up genuine
architecture. The building tasks, as we have seen, are determined by
factors which transcend the individual's wishes, and they have to be solved
even if the solutions are misunderstood and misjudged. If not, serious
social and cultural problems result. Our investigation shows that we do
not solve these problems when following the ruling taste. and that the
building tasks instead have to be defined on an objective basis and solved
with relevant means. To enable the architects to do this, the public should
givc up its naive belief in the ruling taste. Thi s presupposes a training in
looking at architecture. " Some architectural totalities are easily perceived,
while others request a close study and thorough training. 2J It is especially
difficult to und erstand ' complex work s from other cultures. Naive realism assumes that we can experience spontaneously works of art from
any epoch, but a controlling analysis would show that the experience'
generally consists in a reading of our own intentional poles into totalities
where they do ncr belong. " We should therefore be more cautious when
judging works of architecture from other periods. Architectural history,
accordingly, only rarely has the courage to regard its results as secure. 1'5
Finall y we should stress that an intention of the relevant structure implies
that we must leave out perceptually man y secondary intermediate objects,
such as optical illusions. We have reason to assert that the optical corrections
should rather be understood as deviations from the stylistic norm . u;
The psychology of perception tells us that things have to possess a clear
order to be active, and that the architect should form his buildings in
such a way that the perception does not become too difficult.
199
2.
Production
When solving concrete building tasks the architect employs methods which
necessarily have a theoretical foun dation. Any method is based upon assumptions about the character of the field where it is applied. T he architect
has to solve tasks through form al and technical means, and he ought to
possess the theoretical insight which enables him to define the tasks precisely and to find the corresponding means. The main reason for the
architectural chaos of our time, therefore, is the architects' and clients'
lack of theoretical understan ding. The client should know enough not to
insist upon meaningless demands, while the architect as a specialist has
to know the whole range: of the problems. We should immediately stress,
however, that the production of architecture cannot happen as a logical
combination of the components indicated by the theoretical analysis of
the task and the means. As a concretization the prod uction of architecture
is dependent upon a unifying creative process where the single components
are usually transformed by the total context. We have rendered an account
of this creative process above. T he procedure cannot be learned logically,
but has to be acquired through exercises. I This , however, does not imply
that analytic methods arc unnecessary. The creative procedure obviously
needs a material, and It is essential that this consists of analytically defined
factors, rather than favourite motives or vague ideas about the character
of the task.
Produ ction aims at creating an ordered physical milieu and a meaningful symbol-milieu. We usually sum up these aspects in the expression
visual order ' . By this term, therefore, we do not only intend a purely
forma l order, but rather the use of m caningjul forms. T he slogan ' design
for life' covers the same intent ion. 2 T he demand for order contrasts with
the present-day contempt for form . This tendency is explicit everywhere.
2 01
,
\Ve walk, stand, and sit "informally", we dress in a ' sporty' way, we
do not greet each other any longer, and we eat standing at a snack-bar,
Our language has to be popular and easily understood rather than stringent
and articulated. Our entertainment should be absorbed without effort,
and it therefore uses the most banal cliches. Art has become a spontaneous
self-expression', and religion a diffuse personal experience. Th e education
of children is also made ' free ' , and the schools abandon tests and examinations. The present study shows the fundamental misunderstanding behind
these tendencies. Human values can only be preserved and mediated by
means of symbolic forms, and the basic factors of a civilization require the
most articulated symbols. Reactions against the present formless freedom"
start to appear; J not least is the lack of visual order subject to frequent
criticism.
To create visual order we need a suitable method for production, which
has to be based upon an integrated theory of architecture. The theory
helps us to define and classify the central tasks of the period, to classify
the means, and to indicate the correspondences between the two. The
method, therefore, should integrate theory and practice by co-ordinating
the different factors, instead of developing forms which cannot be built,
or technical structures which serve no purpose. The method shuns forms
which are added 'afterwards ' to give the solution the status of "architecture', and does not recognize any preconceived ideas about how the
result should be. It only admits a definition of the problem on an objective
basis, and a following' translation' in terms of corresponding means. Th e
method presupposes an understanding of the architectural totality." The
theory shows that the totality can be split into dimensions which to a
certain extent are investigated independently. The dimensions are not
arbitrarily chosen, and they must be correlated. It would carry us too far
to treat the production methods in further detail. We should only consider
some special aspects of the problem and also give a brief account of the
actual situation from which the present study stems.
When producing, the architect encounters two secondary problems.
Firstly he needs auxiliary 'tools' to present his ideas, and secondly he has
to some to an understanding with the other persons who are interested
202
23
th~
"'~r~ n~led
moo
71
collaboration presupposes a convenient theoretical subdivision of the architectural totality, to allow for the isolation and co-ordination of dearly
defined factors. The modern demand for ' team-work ' . therefore, presupposes the existence of an integrated theory of architecture. T he different
specialists are only concerned with fragments of the building task or the
means to their solution. T he creation of architectural totalities thus tran scends the competence of the engineer and the technical specialist. The
architectural concretization comprises, as we have seen, all the aspects of
the' building, and has to be carried out by an architect trained in synthetic
production. 9
' 957)-
20 4
99
2
4
We have several times hinted at the confused present situation of architecture. In the following we will give a brief account of the more characteristic problems and tendencies.
T he new technical possibilities have been of essential importance to the
development of a new attitude to architecture. Materials like cast iron,
steel, reinforced concrete and glass, led to the development of the skeleton
construction, which forms the great innovation of the nineteenth century.
T he skeleton construction made the plan ' free ' and allowed for the realization of enormous continuous spaces, as well as very tall buildings. The
facades were transformed into a transparent, weightless skin. '! T he Crystal
Palace in London (ISsI) realized these possibilities and also showed the
advantages of prefabrication and montage. At the same time a new formal
coherence came to replace the classical ideal of balancing the parts in such
a way that ' nothing could be added or taken away without destroying
the harmony. ' In the Crystal Palace, instead, it was possible to imagine
a formal addition or substraction because of the coherence created by means
of repeating the same pregnant technical system throughout. A new open,
flexible, or ' incomplete' (but satisfactory) form was created. IJ In this way
the new technical possibilities set architecture free to frame new functions
and forms of life.
In the nineteen-twenties the interest shifted from the technical to the
functional and formal dimensions. Cubism had introduced a new type of
aesthetics. [ ts juxtapositions of interpenetrating, coloured planes had a very
inspiring effect on the architects. This formal attitude was a strength as
well as a weakness. The danger of a degeneration into formalistic play
often became reality. But it was of essential importance that the architects
became aware of the formal functions of coloured and textured surfaces,
and that the interest in free space compositions was awakened. In this
way formal elements were developed, capable of adaptation to varying
functions and psychological needs. T he formal experiments led to a new
conception of the building. It lost its traditional character of a closed mass,
and became instead an ordered juxtaposition of functionally determined
surfaces (slabs) in a continuous space. 14
After 1945 the situation has become more confused. The modern movement no longer has the unified character of the ' twenties. Its unsolved
25
12 Gitdion :
Berlin 1928.
B~utn
in
Fr~n krt;dl.
Leipzig!
100
70
101
100
102
122.
It is not enough, however, to ask for an integration of the ' organic '
and ' technological ' tendencies. An architecture where free plans are ordered by a clear construction does not necessarily warrant the desired
visual order. It is just as important that every building (x prus(s its character, In t1H= present situation we can hardly distinguish between a church
and a garage. Evidently this is not mainly due to defective single building s,
but above all to the lack of distinct building typn II The different building
tasks can be classified according to common properties (such as their degree
of flexibility). The classes have to be correlated with building types capab/(
of variation, where technical systems play a formative role. 19 Only in this
way can the demand for standardization and industrialization be satisfied,
at the same time as we acquire a diDu ( ntiat( d visual order; " The devaluation of the modern forms which has taken place after the war is also
counteracted. The modern forms have developed through experimentation
and the fight against borrowed motives. But they have never been ordered ,
they have never become a real formal languag( . T his is the basic problem
tha t the present generation of modem architects has to face; " and it can
only be solved through the formation of types. The types must be interrclated in such a way that they form a hierarch y corresponding to
the task-structure.
n .-\rchitectura l histor)' ,hows that the development of types is essential to the archi tectur al system.
19 The t;dtn icaJ. system must above all take
the varying dem ands for flexibility into COD
. ideration .
:!O Staooardil-2tion i . not a new demand .
It has, however. Irc:orne problematic because
of the anarchic subjec tivism of the nineteenth
century.
10 2
20 7
3.
Analysis
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.
RESEARCH
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
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
6 We could
for
~l w im ~gine
'p"ei.ol in.titute.
'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
14 See
p.usi", .
Sedlmajr :
99
2 15
4.
Education
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
The architect has to learn his ' craft ', which is something much more
than ability in draw ing. In the past his education consisted of a long
and thorough training in the studio of an acknow ledged master, where
the architect-to-be was taugh t to use a formal language and the practical
methods serving its realizations. " The unity of theory and practice was
a matter of course, a unity which has only been destroyed in our time by
the architect's fear of not being spon taneously ' artistic'. 3 The first step
towards a restoration of this unity is the development of an integrated
theory of architecture. In the past the tasks were rather invariant, and
the theory could have the character of relatively fixed and limited rules.
Today the adaptation to frequent changes has become imperative, and
the theory, therefore, should be an ' empty' but logically coherent and
compre hensive system whi-ch is capable of covering all architectural
problems. Modern theory, in other words, should be valid for all architectural systems, while the theories of the past were tied to single systems.
The education is not complete with the acquisition of a satisfactory
theoreticaf insight. We have seen that the creative faculty proper, the
ability of solving complex tasks through concretization, is only developed
by means of exercises. The intentions compri sed by the task, however,
are not learned through these exercises, but have to be taught more
directly. The un ity of theory and practice, thus, is basic from the outset.
We could also say that the education consists of a theoretical and a
practical part which are interrelated. In addition we need training in
architectural perception to make the theoretical kn owledge become alive,
and to give the production an adequate intentional depth. Train ing in
architectural analysis is also necessary to make the teaching become
somethi ng more than a mere transmission of information . Through analytical exercises the theory should, so to speak, be developed anew by the
students. Analogously the students have to learn to define the tasks
adequately through training in task-analysis, instead of receiving complete
programmes from the teacher. Only in this way can the student comprehend that building means the solution of social and cultur al problems,
rather than the erection of houses of a certain number of square metres.
T he education, therefore, must develop the faculties of integration (concretization), analysis, and experience, and must also furnish the general
218
,,,,J
"<Jus
P.
12).
10 Gropius : op.
II
p.
2~.
12 Gropius : op.
1J
cn.,
As the
g OJ I
cu.,
P' 26.
Oeepius
ICes
'me greate. t
i n>trueto~
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
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~
~.
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
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an
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Bcrtalan ffy, L. Y.: "An Outline of General System T heory ' ; Brit. ]. Phil/ Sci. I, 1950.
Blake, M. E. : Roman Construction in Italy 1/ 11 ; Washington 1947"'59.
Blake, R. R. and Ramsey, G. V. : Perception , an A pproach to Prl"sonality; New
York 1951.
Bochenski, J. M.: Die uitgrn ijssisch ~ n Denkm nhoaen; Bern 1954.
Braunfel s, W. : MitUlalurljc h ~ Stadtba ukunu in der Toska na; Berlin 1953.
Bridgma n, P. W, : Th e Logj~ of M adu n Physics; New York 1927.
Beinckmann, A. E. : Plat e und monume nt ; Berlin 1908.
Brinckmann, A.E. : Deutsch ~ Stadtb0l4kunst; Frankfurt JM. 191L
Brinckmann, A. E.: Plo/Jik und Rallm; Munchen 1922.
,
Brinckmann, A. E. : Stad tbauku1Hlj Wildpark-Pcu dam 1925.
Brinckmann, A. E. : Baukumt; Tii bingen 1956.
Bruner, 1. 5. and Goodman, C. ; 'Value and Need as Organizing F actors in Perception "; I. A lm arm . Soc. Psych. XLII, 1947.
Bruner, J. S. and Postman , L. : ' Symbolic Value as Organizing Factor in Perception ';
I. Soc. Psychol. 27, 1948.
Brunswik, E. : 'Prinzipicnfragcn dec Gesraiuheorie "; in Ft:mchrift z u Karl Bu hlers
50. Gl:burtstag, [ena 1929.
Bru nswik, E.: W ahrnrhm ung und Gegt:nstandswelt; Leipzig unci Wicn 1934.
Bruns wik, E.: The Conceptual Framework oj Psychology; Ch icago 1950.
Brun swik, E. : 'The Conceptual Focus of Syst ems ": in Marx : Psychological T heory.
Brun swik, E.: ' T he Psychology of Objective Relations. "; in Marx : Psych ological
Th ~ry .
226
J.:
Jones, B,: Prolegomena to a Study of the Aesthetic Effect of Cities'; IAA C, June IgOO.
Jorgensen, f,: Psykologi; Kobenhavn 1941.
Jorgensen, J,: Indledning tillogikk(n og metodelaren; KObcnhavn t942.
Meyer, L.B.: ' Meaning in Mu sic and Inform ation Theory '; JAAC, June 1957.
Meyer, L. B.: ' Som e Remark s on Value and G reatn ess in :\fu sic' j JAAC, Ju ne 1959.
Michelis, P.A.: ' Space-Time and Ccnrempc rary Architectu re' ; JAA C, Decembre 1949.
Michelis, P. A. : Refinements in Archite cture ' ; JAAC, Sept. 1955.
Moholy-Nagy, L. : T he N ew Vision ; New York 1946.
Mohaly-N agy, L. : Vision in MOhOfJ ; Chi cago J947.
Mondrian, P. : Plastic Art and Pure Plastic Art; New Yor k 1945.
Morr is, c.: Foundations of the Theory oj Signs; Chicago r938.
Morr is, C.: ' Scientific Em piricism', in En cyclopedia and Unified Scienccj Chicago 1938.
Morr is, C. : "Es thetics and the Th eory of Signs ' ; in Journal of Unified Science,
Vol. 8, 1939Morris. C. : ' Science, Art and T echnology ' ; Kenyon Revi ew I, 1939.
Morris, C.: Signs. lAnguage and Behavior ; New York 1946.
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Mumford, L. : The Culture of Citi es j Ne w York 1938.
Mu nro, T. : T oward Scien(( in A estheticsj New York 1956.
Murr ay, H. A.: 'Toward a Classification of Inreractions"; In Parsonsj Shils : Toward
a General Th erJry 01 Action.
Ner vi, P. L. : Coaru ire corratammtr, Milano 1955.
Norberg-Schulz , C.; 'Om rammer i arkitekt uren ' i Bygge kun st 1952.
Norberg.schulz, C.: ' H usbygging med scllskjeiett ': Bygg~ku nst 1956.
Nceberg-Sch ule, C. : "Grenseoppga ng ", Bonytt 1957.
Norberg-Schulz, c. : Rencomre avec Mies van dec Rohe' : L' arcniueture tl'auiour.
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Norberg-Schulz, c. : - Eksperiment i Ulm' : Bygge/{unst 1958.
Norberg-Scbule, C. : -Mies van dec Rohes klassisisme ': Byggekunst 1959.
Norberg-Schu lz, C.: - Muligbetenes miljc ' j St. Hal/flarJ 1959.
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c.:
c. :
1900-
Panofsky. E. : ' D ie Perspekrive als symbolische Form 'j in Vortrag~ Jer Bibliolne/{
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Panofsky, E.: Meaning in the Visual Arts; New York 1955.
Parsons, T . : T he Social
Syst~m;
Glencoe 1951.
London 191.9-
J. and
Read, H. : Education through Art; London 1943Reichenbach, H . : Expmmce and Prediction; Chicago 1938.
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Saalman, H. : ' Early Renaissance T heory and Practice in A ntonio Filarete's T rana rc
d i Arch itett ura ' ; Art Bulletin XLI , March 1959Schlick, M.: Guammelre Aufsatu; Wien 1938.
Schlosser, J. v.: La u rUrarura Artistica; Wien/Firenze 1956.
Schooberg, A. : Style and Idea; New York 1951.
Scholfidd, P. H. : T1Je Theory oj Proportion in ArchiUC1uu; Cambridge 1958.
Schumacher, F. : Der Geisr der Baukunst; Stuttgan 1938.
Schwarz, R. : Yom Bau der Kirche; Heidelberg 1947.
Scott, G. : T he Archi~ure of H umanism; London 1914.
Scott, R.G.: Design Fundamentals; New York 1951.
Sedlmayr, H . : ' Zu einer strengen Kunstwissenschafr "; Kunsrwiss. FOTschung I,
Berlin 1930.
Sedlmayr, H .: "Das erste mittelalterliche Architektursystem'; Kunsrwiss. ForseA ung
II, Berlin 1933.
Sedlmayr, H .: Die Architektur Borrominis; Milachen 1939Sedlrnayr, H. : Verlust der Mitu; Salzburg 1948.
Sedlma yr, H. : Architel(fur als abbildenJe Kunst; W ien 1948.
Sedlmayr, H. : Die Entsu hung der Kathedrale; Zurich 1950.
Sedlmayr, H . : Kunst und Wahrheit; H amb urg 1958.
Sedlmayr, H. : Epochen und Werke Ji ll ; Munchen /Wien 1959"60.
Sert, J. L : Can our Cities Survive?; Cambridge 19+1.
Siegel, C. : Strukturformen der modemcn Archiukrur; Miinchen 1900.
Smith , E. B. : Egyptian Architecture as Cultural Expression; New York 1938.
Smith, E. B. : Th e Dome; Princeton 1950.
Smith, E. B. : Architectural Symbolism oj Imperial Rome and the Middle A ges;
Princeton 1956.
Sorgel, H . : ArchitekturAesthetik ; Munchen 1918.
Sullivan, L. H . ; The Autobiography oj an Idea; New York 1956.
To lman, E. C. : ' A Psychological Model ' ; in Parsons & Shils: Toward a General
Th eory of Action.
23'
23 2
Index
t:
n.
Asplund , G.: 18
Atom ism : lOS
Att itude : 30 fl., 34, 62. 6s: fl., 81, 86, 19S, 196
Axiality: 143, 145, 150, 159. Fig. 62
Baldachine : 96, 99, 124. 139
Banality : 58, 50, 156, 157, 187
Ban dm ann, G. : 88,1 00, 110, 111, 123, 159, 183, 186
Baroque art (architecture) : 87, 92, 95, 97, ror, 120. 126, 135, 140, 141, 143, 146, 148,
154, 169, Fig. 13, 21, 22, 42, 43. 46, 50, 55, 96
Basilica : 106, 124, 183, F ig. 3-2
Bauhau s : 13, 18, Ig, 201, 21g, 220, 221, 222
Bergson, H. : 63
'33
Bernini, L. : 144
Borromin i, F. : 92, 99, 100. 1]8, I,p, 150, 198, Fig. I] . ar, 22, 42> 46, 50, 55
Boundar y : 96,99. I] ]. 137
Boundin g surface: 1O~), 134, 139> 1490 150, Fig. 41
Braman te, D . : 102. 145. 152, Fig. 68. 79
Braunfels, W .: 88. 118. 172
Brinckrnann, A. E. : 86. 98, 183
Brunelleschi, F.: 7, 93, 95, 104. 123, 143, 148. 151. 158. Fig. 16. 18, 59, 84
Brunswik., E.: 14. 27, 28, 29. 31, 32. 33, 34, 35. 36, 41, 4l> 47. 51, 53, 54, 62. 63. 68
Buhler. K. : 29, 35
Building task : 16, 18,21.2-3.88.102. 104. lOS. Iogfl. 12] fl. 160, 16]. 173. 175. 1']6.
In, 1790 ISs. 186, 195. 210
Building type: : 106. 153> 157. I&), 173. 18], 20]
By-produa : 10']. 180
Capacity : 106, ISS. 160. 175. In , 182
Caenap, R. : 29, 56. 57. 58, 59. 82
Cathexis: 65. 66. 68, 188
Cave: 12.5
Ceiling : 137
Centralization : 1] 6, 142, 145. Fig. 59
Change: 74, 82. 160
Cher. c.: 41.56. 60. 61. 151. 156. 158
ClAM : 13. 17
City plan ning : 103> 113. II4. 121. 129. 152, 153. 223
Civitas : 118, 172
C lassical architecture : 146, 149
Classical orders: 17, 91. 92. 98. 145
Classification : ]1. 53, 66. 132
Climate:: 113. n8, 154
Closure : 136, 40
Cluster : 116. 140. I'll, 147. Fig. 53
Coherence-system: ]4. 64. 10']
Cognition: 65. 66, 188
Clear construction : 149, 164. 166, 206, 20]
Colour: 135, 142
Column: u8, 149, 171
Comunication : 38. 60
117. 129
Concretization: 64. 66. 68, 71. n . 10']. 157. 188
Constanc y phenomena : 33. 43> 45, 198
Construaion: 161fl.
Content : 58, 63, 71, lOS. 1ft]
Continuity : 43,44. 1]4, 136, 14 1 151
Contradiction : 58
Convention : 56, 72, 145. 159. 16g
e..
'34
69,
235
10';'
Geisuswisunschaften: 66
Generalization: 30, 36, 38
Geometry: 55, 89, 135
Geometrical relations; 92, 144, I45, 147, 148, Fig. 58
Gesamtkunstwerk; ]4, I04, 126
Gestalt: 34,44,45, 46, 48,93,94,97,99, 100, WI, l OS, 133. 135, 139, 140, 142, 148, 166, 198
Gestalt law ; 45, Fig. 6
Gestalt quali ty : 34, 45, 134, 135
Gibson, J. J.: 45
Giedion, S.: 13, 14, 15, 16, I], 18, 20, 81, II9, 129, 205, 219, 220
Goa l-cbject :
t4
Gothic architecture: 99, 102, 124, 135, 136, 1}8, 139, 160, 164, 168, 1] 4, Fig. 33, 50, 5]
Gratification : 39, 6s, 66
Greek art (architecture); 91, 96, II ] , 120, 121, 125, 126, 142, 143, 146, 148, 149, 151,
180, 198, Fig. 29, 61
Gropius, W. ; 13,19. 159,219, 'V.). 221
23
69,
95
6s:
69,
105
'37
238
rr-
'39
Proportion: 44, 45, 91, 92, 93, 94. 100, 203, F ig. J4' 15
Proxim ity: 43, 44, 75, 140
Psychoanalysis: 33, 64
Pythagore ans: 90, 91
Qualitative concept : 89, 90, 107, J82
Quality: 108, 156, 181, 182, 184
Rader, M .: 68
Raphael: 148, Fig. 75
Ratio : 94
Reaction : 38
Reality: 64
Redundanc y: 151
Reichenbach. H . : 55, 82
Relation : 44,59, 105, II 7, 132, 140 ff., 148, 160
Relativity: 22. 34, 35, 176
Relevance: 181, 184, J96
Religion : 66, ft]
Renaissance art (architecture) : 69, ']0, 87, 9J, 92, 95, 97, 101.
136, 138 146, 148, 154, 158. 172. 173. 197, Fig.
59, 68, 69, 7 1 , 75, J9, 50, 84. Ss
Representation: 42, 51, ]6,
Ss, 203
Reprodu ction : 74 iI., Fig. 10
Research : 2CJ9, 210 Il,
Retinal pan crn : 32, 45, 46
Rhythm: J53, 183
II,
n,
Riegl, A. : 9'1, 95
Rietveld, G. : Fig. 3
Role : 22, 40, u 8, 171
Roman architecrure : II], J2O, 123. 12.4, 126, 136, lop. 143. 145, 146, 148, 149> 151,
163, 164, 212, Fig. 30, 31, 38, 6';, 88, 59. 9", 97
Romanesque architecture : 104, 139
Romantic art : 17, 184. 186
Row: g], 106, u6, 141, 146, 147, 1; 4
Ruesch, J.: 63, 119, J30
Rufer, J.: 139, 156, 159
Rule : 59, 13J, 149
Ruling taste : 16, 159> 183, 184, 199
.,
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<), ,173, 186, 201, 2IO
Symbol-system (descriptive, non-descriptive}. 38, 53, 57. 58. 59. 50, 63, 64 fl. 70, 79,
81. 149, 159. 171, 188
ISs
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'correctly' and ....r on gly.
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85. Imitation of th
J.
j (1960)
Intenllons In Architecture
by Christi an Norberg-Schulz
... the book' s erudition and th oroughness are co nsistent wit h the sch ol arship
01his Swiss forebears-G iedion , Woelt ffin , and Burk hardt. Since i t is foun ded on
modern science and the doctrine of
symbo lic form . it buifds a pl ac e for
architecture in the modern phitosopaicet
landscape. Its sc ope is thus even wider
than that of Gledion's work.
- Nathan Silver, Progressive Archit ecture
No rb erg-Schul z is a pr act ic ing architect
- his bu ildings st and In several coun tr ies
- and he elucidates the nature of architectural reality with a pr acticed eye and
from a pract ic al viewpoint. Alt ho ugh th e
methods and theory that his book de. velops are uncompromisingly rigorous
~ and tightly form ed, they are everyWhere
related to actual bu ilding, thr ough
spec ific exa mples and through he use
01 over 100 pho tog raphs.
Coli n St. J ohn Wilson wr ites in RIBA
Journal th at
This book is th e first seri ous attempt to
outline a systematic and comp l ete framework for the descr ip ti on of architectu re.
In 1911 Let haby wr ote that " Modern
builders need a classification of arch itactur al factors irres pective of time and
by essenti al variation. Some day we shalf
gat a morph ol ogy 01tne art by some
Li nnaeus or Darwin who shaff start fr om
the simp lest ce ll and rela te it to the mos t
comp lex struc tures ." I cla im that this
book is that "tru e cl assifi cati on." Its
mode, br ed in th e school 01analytical
philosop hy. is uniqu e for its precisi on 01
language and " struc tural" meth od in a
field lon g since aband oned to rh etori c
and reci pe. . ..
I hav e caffed the metho d of this book
"structural" to c onvey the manner in
whic h the argument is built up by similar
kinds of " joint" throughout tb whole
framework. This is the mark of its authorit y. But what is remarkable is the extra ord inary br eadth of interest over which
this authori ty is mai ntained.
The str uc ture that Norberg-Schu lZ has
fash ioned is surely on e 01the most impressive intell ec tual edifices that any
arch itect has ever pro duced. The materials that are orga nicall y wor ed into it
incl ude Gestalt psyc hology, the mechanics 01percep tion . info rmation theory,
mode rn analyt ic ph ilosophy, and in
particular li ngui stic ana lys is, and the
ge neral theory 01signs and symbols. Th e
result. however , is not an ec lectic hodgepodge-all these materia ls have th eir
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