03: Thesis (2012) by Daniel S. Johnson

The Architecture of Death: A Study of Thanantological Space and Mnemonic Ritualization

by Daniel Stephen Johnson

5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233 Years After Death

â&#x20AC;&#x153;To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.â&#x20AC;? ~Thomas Campbell

A Terminal Masterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Project Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Architecture School of Architecture and Community Design College of the Arts University of South Florida May, 2012

The Architecture of Death: A Study of Thanantological Space and Mnemonic Ritualization by Daniel Stephen Johnson Chair: Nancy Sanders Committee: Steve Cooke Daryl Croi Kuebler Perry

Me, Mom, Vicky

DEDICATION This body of work is dedicated to my mother, Kathryn Ann Johnson. She dedicated twenty five years of her life to raising me and I could not have asked for a more amazing Mom. Her sudden and untimely death shocked and changed me forever, but through the strength she gave me and through the passion I have for my work, I was able to not only heal but create a very special gift in her honor. I love you Mom, and miss you more than you can ever know.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Firstly I would like to thank all of my family and friends who have supported me during the past four years of graduate school. Often they have gone weeks without knowing that I am alive and well but still manage to understand and respect my absence even though they wish I was more present in their lives.

I could not go without mentioning Professor Steve Cooke who has been one of my most important mentors during my education at USF. He always gave me the distance I needed to work through my challenges and gave me the best advice when he knew I was in need. His methods and guidance will always be an inspiration to me. I thank Kuebler Perry, for always being my most aggressive critic. His constant questioning and astute commentary not only challenged me to be better philosopher and designer but also allowed me to grow as a person. I also extend my thanks to Daryl Croi, who within this last year has become someone who I have been very blessed to have along my journey with me. His words of wisdom have always been poignant and nimble. Lastly, I would like to thank Nancy Sanders for joining me on this posthumous journey. Without her enthusiastic, thoughtful and extremely creative advice this project would not have become what it is today. She has been and will continue to be a source of inspiration for my future as both an architect and educator.

Catholic Cemeteries Archdiocese of St. Louis

T A B L E of C O N T E N T S A Conversation on Death

The Site: Graham Hollow

The Sequence of Generational Memory The Cavalcade Necropolis Lamentation on Finality

The Mnemonic Homes The Blog

References

22 50 96 98

124

170

Unitarian Churchyard - Charleston, South Carolina

a C O N V E R S A T I O N on D E A T H I remember the first moment that I ever thought intently about the concept of death. I was around the age of eight, living in Woodland Hills, California and laying in bed trying to fall asleep. I could barely wrap my head around long division and complex sentence structure, yet I was laying in bed trying to understand what the meaning of life was all about, and why death existed. A heavy load to bear, I realize, but none the less we all, at some point, have to question our existence and begin to comprehend the realities of our biological destinies. Why do we have to die? What would death be like? Would it hurt? Would I remember it? I distinctly remember trying to imagine what it would be like to be dead, but I couldn’t figure out how to imagine nothingness, blackness, emptiness. This inability to imagine such an existence, or lack there of, began to terrify me to my core. I didn’t understand what it meant to not be alive. I couldn’t grasp the concept of not experiencing my senses, my memories, or my imaginations. I quickly became paralyzed with fear, and from that moment on I decided to do everything in my power to avoid death as I figured that if I didn’t think about it, or come close to it in anyway, that I could escape it. I could make it not exist. As the years went by, I of course returned to the topic of death. I tried to brave the fear and do my best to manifest that accurate imagination of death that I couldn’t conjure on that first night. Every time I tried, I failed and withdrew those thoughts, hiding behind my nieve belief that I could hide from them. They always seemed to creep back and would manifest themselves through temporary bouts of strange behavior. For a few weeks I associated my Mom sleeping, for an extended period of time, with her being dead I would go into her bedroom and wake her up simply to ensure myself that she was alive. As I grew older I began to cope with my fears, finally coming the realization that death would be like dreamless sleeping. I thought about times which I didn’t dream, and realized that, that would be the closest I could get to imagining what death would be like. I moved on, and began to live my life not worrying about my death. On October 27th, 2009 I woke up from an uncomfortable nights sleep in a New York City hostel to the painfully loud ring of my cell phone at the very early morning hours. I looked at the caller ID and through my hazy and tired vision I saw that my Uncle was calling me, and I instantly knew that something had to be wrong. Waiting for me on the other end of that call was the culmination of my childhood fears, it was death calling to remind me that it had never left, that it was very much by my side. Death called to tell me that it had taken my Mother. Over the next hour my brain began to process all of the information I had been given. My Mom had an abrupt heart attack that stopped her heart from beating for over an hour before she was able to be successfully revived. An hour without a heart beat meant an hour without oxygen to her brain, which meant she was brain dead without any hope of recovery. Death knocked on my door to remind me of its existence, and that reminder shattered my life.

One of the first things I learned about death was that life goes on. You may have lost a life, but everyone else’s life keeps on moving forward, and so you must as well. I began to think about death a lot but this time with the absence of fear. The beauty of losing the one person in your life that you knew loved you more than their own is the numbness that scabs over your heart after they suddenly are ripped from it. I could no longer feel my fear of dying. Death had found a way to protect me from my fear of it by simply providing me with a direct example of how inevitable it is in our lives. From that moment on I no longer feared death, I respected and understood its existence. The second thing I learned about death was how disconnected funerary rites are for most Americans. My family is not heavily religious, though associations to religions are present, so the experience of “the funeral” was certainly less spiritual than it is for others. My experience was very commercial, generic and disappointing. There was no open casket, as per my Mothers wishes, but there was a wake full of family and friends of my Mother’s, many of which I did not know until that day. The wake lasted about an hour and a half and took place in a room full of flowers, photographs and the sounds of my Mom’s favorite songs. I stood around, greeting those who wished to express their sorrow, like a Principal of a High School repetitively and non-emotionally shaking hands with the young graduating cattle headed out to their futures. It all seemed expected, almost like I had already lived this experience a million times over. Eventually speeches were made, tears were shed and then our rented time at the funeral home was up and everyone went home like they were leaving from a casual get together with friends. It all seemed so contrived and standardized. My Mom was anything but standard. I am anything but standard. My friends, my family, and random people on the street are simply more than just a standard entity. Or was I wrong? Are we simply all the same? Are all of our lives meaningless? Do we just exist and then simply cease to exist? These are the new questions I soon faced.

As the weeks passed on I reflected back on my experiences since that infamous phone call. I thought about the sterility of the ceremony and the emptiness that now existed. This was all part of the normal process of mourning. While a lot of it was terribly sad and painful there was a beautiful silver lining which began to present itself through both retrospection and discovery. The beauty came from the narrative which I began to uncover while sorting through the artifacts that I was left with after my Mom’s passing. I read through her diaries, saw her report cards from grade school, notes from teachers, letters she wrote to her father. I found pieces of her life that I was unaware of and it was as if I was rediscovering who she was as someone more than just the woman who raised me. The things I discovered completed some mysteries of my Mom’s life while also creating new ones that left me curious to solve. This experience triggered me to remember that there was something potent about the wake which I originally felt was so disconnected, and it was all of the unheard of stories that my Mom’s friends shared with me during those ninety minutes. I realized that even though I lost someone, along with their death I gained a new perspective on a life that had lived. It was because I was actively learning new things about someone I had lost that I felt like she was alive again, sharing herself with me. I found this sense of posthumous discovery to be so peaceful. I began to understand that no one really dies when the memory of their life, and that unique and special narrative, lives on.

As my life and my emotions began to stabilize, I started to contemplate how to allow the memory of my Mother to live on. I felt as if I needed to resolve something, as there was seemingly a step that I had not yet taken. I thought about the fact that my Mom wanted me to design her a home to grow old in, and that concept was something that meant so much to me. I decided that I was still going to fulfill that wish, I was going to design her a home. This was the moment that became the genesis for my Masterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Research Project. I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t imagine anything more appropriate than dedicating the final year of my education to investigating and proposing an idea that was inspired by and created in memory of my Mom. It would be this body of work, these ideas, and the whole experience that would become the home that was waiting to be constructed for her.

Before moving into the realm of posthumous architecture I further examined my feelings on the current conditions of the culture and constructed landscapes of death. I examined my own experience and considered those of others whom which I personally knew. I began to realize that we were living in a westernized culture of neglectful and distanced attitudes, regardless of religious backgrounds. Even though America is a mixing pot of religions, the western culture of death is still very sterile and disconnected from the realities of biological cessation. The culture hands off the experience of the cadaver to a facility, who in turn idealizes the body so that is may be presented in a formal and pleasant way. Various types of ceremonies take place, and then the body is either privately transformed into ash, or is placed into the earth and marked with some sort of physical cenotaph. What transpires after that is entirely up to those left behind to live their lives. The ashes may be kept, placed in a cemetery or spread somewhere. The grave of the buried may be visited or abandoned to never be seen again. This reality has been in place for thousands of years without much development. The reality of the cemetery has become dead in its progression as a place that houses so much more than its physical characteristics. Our primal fears of death keep us distanced from spaces which represent our mortality. Cemeteries are places where many abandon their feelings and never return. There are certainly those, such as myself, who are magnetized by the landscapes of death which house those who have left our lives. I find that these places contain so many mysteries of those whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s remains rest there. Who was Henry L. Burns III? How did he die? What did he do during his seventy six year life? Did he have children? Did they have children? Did his grandchildren know about him and the life he lived? It is the narratives that posthumously linger onward that have the potential to transcend the physical and static qualities of death. It is the living that can extend the lives of those we have lost. The oral stories and the experience of social bonding are an important part of our humanity. So how do we create environments that not only promote these experiences, but strengthen them into a tradition that becomes a new part of our culture? This is the conversation I want to open and engage in. This is where architecture, death and culture can come together to generate new ideas on how thananotological landscapes can rise from their inert and banal conditions and become something more than just a psychological and physical depository of decay.

I would like to end this introduction with presenting a series of quotations and images which are aimed to place you in a posthumous landscape of thought.

“Death is a sort of alchemy. It changes us in an instant into something completely new. Spirit, soul, and mind flash away, and what was once a living body becomes a new creation. This new thing, the corpse, is most evidently flesh and bones: pound after pound of inert ligaments, veins, arteries, organs, nails, skin, and hair. But it is also a powerful symbol, charged with meanings as many and varied as human cultures and individual personalities. The corpse represents, among other things, a threat to social order, an economic burden to the family, a reminder of our mortality, an offense to sight and smell, an affront to hopes of eternal life, and a reason to believe in the bodily resurrection. Corpses as no questions but prompt many. How am I going to get along without her pay check? Why wouldn’t he listen when I told him to stop drinking? What’s my cut of the inheritance? Is now the time to get right with God? How could God have allowed this to happen? Is there really a heaven? A hell? But after all these questions have been answered or, more likely, as they resound without resolution, the corpse remains a brute fact. In this flesh, these bones, inheres a responsibility. What to do with a dead body?” ~ Stephen Prothero “Most human cultures possess spaces for spirits understood as person-like powers capable of human interaction. While this may sound paradoxical, since spirits are typically deemed not to occupy a ‘space’ as do living persons, it becomes more intelligible once we recognize that ‘life’ itself is a mysterious entity difficult to ‘place’ or restrict to a body.” ~ Jenny Hockey “Silence. Is it emptiness? Is it nothing? When you listen to the silence around you in a quiet place, what you really hear are the tiny sounds that are usually drowned out by background noise: dry leaves blowing across the pavement, the crunch of pebbles beneath your feet, the call of a bird, the skitter of a tiny creature on the path, the wind in the trees. If you close your eyes, you can tell the seasons or the time of day. You can tell if it’s spring or fall from the way the wind rustles through the trees. In fall, the leaves sound crisp; in spring, they are silky soft and the breeze flowing through them is almost inaudible. On a summer night the crickets’ rhythmic chirping seems to come from all around, and rises and falls like waves upon the air. At dawn the birds take over - a cacophony of song you never hear in the head of midday. In quiet places, we hear the life around us and come into closer contact with our world. We are in touch with nature, in tune with our thoughts, and aware of forces greater than ourselves.” ~ Esther M. Sterbery

the S E Q U E N C E of

GENERATIONAL MEMORY

Most often in the profession of architecture, architects are given a program to respond to and to create for, but in a circumstance such as this, where new ground is to be made in the culture and ritual of death, the responsibility of programmatic genesis tentatively belongs in the creative hands of the architect. Determining a program which would redefine and offer a significant contribution to those in mourning is a task that not only is incredibly challenging but also uniquely inspiring. It requires a sensitive analysis on the current outlook on how a specific culture engages with loss. As previously discussed the American culture of death is one that is distanced from it in a way that almost casts it aside as something to dispose of. There is a sense of urgency to move through the process and to avoid as much existential fear as possible. There was only a temporary moment of pause and reflection in the form of a ceremony and then life moved on. I am not proposing that life stop, but I would like to propose that the process can continue beyond the ceremony, that there is something positive to look forward to than the inevitability of the mourning process. I wanted to provide a process of mourning that could help families come together in a new way. In order to place myself in a state of mind where I could dwell on these posthumous issues I returned to St. Louis, Missouri where my Mom had died. I returned in mid-October, within two weeks of the second anniversary of her death. It was here where I experienced autumn for the first time. I was able to witness the beautiful decay of nature, the cusp of death of the natural world. It was a truly inspiring and transformative experience, one which activated all of my senses and opened up my eyes to the natural beauty of death. I realized that nature is a perfect example of embracing death as it routinely goes through this process so honestly.

Affected by the cyclical temperament of nature I looked for inspiration within it to see what I could extract and transform into something that could begin to express the beauty and acceptability of death through a programmatic and architectural narrative. I began thinking about the nature of a narrative and I began to define it as a sequence of events or experiences strung together to create an understanding of a motif. This idea of a sequence became intriguing to me, so I searched for one within nature that I could investigate and determine if I could transform it into a program that would address the issues I have identified. One of the most studied sequences that I knew of in regards to nature is the Fibonacci Sequence. This mathematical progression has been studied for centuries and has had a significant presence in many iconic pieces of historical and modern architecture. The fractal-esque geometries of this progression and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s proportions have been studied in relationship to natural patterns in nature and within the proportional structure of the human body. It was believed that the proportions found within this numerology were divine due to their apparent connection between nature, man and the universe.

The Fibonacci Sequence interested me even more when I realized that it could provide an opportunity for creating a programmatic structure that progressively created increasing distance between each subsequent number. The idea of progressive distance resonated with me as it could begin to reflect the type of emotional distance one has and or may need during the process of mourning. I began to look at the numbers as anniversary dates of death, such as five years after death, eight years, thirteen, twenty one, etc. I asked the question: What if I created a series of spaces one would travel to on these anniversaries? How would I begin to program it so that the sequence becomes important for spatial activation? The answer was pretty simple. I determined that the program would require people to return to these spaces on these anniversary dates to move the remains of their loved one to the next space in the sequence until they reached the end of the sequence. This idea addressed several issues for me: 1) it generated a reason to return to posthumous landscape and engage with the loss of life 2) it created notable activity to the site and brought continuous life to place of death 3) it created the possibility of bringing family and friends together and to create opportunities for those to cross paths with others going through the process of loss and 4) it provided an opportunity to place emphasis on a persons life and relationships versus the commemorating object that marks their static existence.

The idea of returning to a space of death to carry out a ritual is obviously not one that is unique or uncharacteristic of any posthumous place. Some Chinese cultures return decades after burial to exhume the body of a loved one to personally disassemble the skeleton, wash the bones, place in an urn and then finally bring to a space designed to house this urn for the rest of eternity. The idea is to implant the necessity of tradition; to provide a structure for people to respond to and engage with. The current state of the American or western cemetery is anything but engaging. I wanted to provide western culture with a new tradition which would allow for a more engaging and perhaps fulfilling experience. This investigation, this sequence, this program is what I propose to those who may want more than just a headstone marked within the landscape.

Fibonacci Explanation From the Book “Geometry of Design”

Spiral Analysis From the Book “Geometry of Design”

Golden Section; Fish Proportions From the Book “Geometry of Design”

Golden Section within Human Proportions From the Book “Geometry of Design”

Golden Section; Spiral From the Book “Geometry of Design”

the golden ratio When disecting the Fibonacci Sequence one will discover a consistent relationship between the numbers, a ratio of 1.618. This is known as the Golden Ratio.

This ratio has been used within architecture for centuries and can be found within ancient Greek and Roman architecture to the iconic modernist buildings of the 20th century.

When the sequence is looked at closely you will find that the numbers maintain the closest relationship to 1.618 from 5 to 233. This discovery gave me a starting point for my sequence and it conveniently added one more layer to the idea. If the sequence begins five years after death that would give the family some time to hold onto the remains and go through the process of mourning while also allowing for more time for the family to accept giving up ownership of the urn. Finally, when examining the square units of the golden section I determined that I would use those numbers as a starting point for the maximum capacity of urns for the first space which ended up being twenty five.

Red and Brown

Black and Yellow

Green and Red

decay These images were taken on my trip to Missouri and Illinois. I tried to capture the essence of the beauty of autumn, the season where nature wilts away towards a symbolic death. The colors, textures and sounds of the foliage created a sensorial experience that was beautiful and inspiring.

A Collage of Decay

Space Number 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 (release)

Years After Death 5 8 13 21 34 55 89 144 233 (release)

Duration in Space (in years) 3 5 6 13 21 34 55 89 n/a (release)

Max Urns in Space 25 50 75 125 175 300 475 750 25 (release)

Number of Transitions in Space

77 76 74 71 67 60 49 30 1

sequence analysis Graphically analyzing the complexity of the sequence was an important step in understanding the scope and impact of the program.

The diagram to the left was an analysis of overlapping sequences. Each column represents the sequence of one group of twenty five urns. The colors indicate the space the urns are in and for how long and the black circle indicates when the urns transition from one space to another. When analyzed laterally you can begin to understand how many urns will be in a single space at one time. This allowed me to determine the maximum number of urns expected per space. I was also able to determine which spaces would transition simultaneously so that I could predict where activity on site would occur and when. The right diagram was an expansion of this idea of transitional movement on site. Each row symbolizes a different space in the sequence and shows when transitions within that space occur. The bottom diagram shows how all of these transitions begin to work together to create a dynamic environment of activity. It also begins to describe when certain spaces transition on the same cycle, thus increasing the activity on site.

time sequence 5 yrs after death 8 yrs after death 13 yrs after death 21 yrs after death

34 yrs after death

55 yrs after death 89 yrs after death 144 yrs after death 233 yrs after death

final sequence diagram The diagram to the top right is the final graphic made to depict the complexity of the program. This graphic, like all the ones prior, follows the sequence through one full cycle of 233 years. The size of the center of the circles describe the capacity of each space and are accompanied by a number that defines that maximum. The lines, which comprise each circle, represent a group of twenty five urns. The colors begin to highlight certain important relationships. Blue allows one to follow the first group of twenty five urns throughout the 233 years, as they become the reference for the entire diagram. Yellow indicates when subsequent groups share the space with that first group of twenty five. To understand the dark grey portion of the diagram you must look at the eighth space. This space indicates that there will be a maximum of 750 urns, which amounts to a total of thirty groups of twenty five. This is why twenty nine rings are marked dark grey in the first space of the diagram; it allows you to follow all of those groups that will eventually end up together in the final space with that first group. The light grey are those which will not share that experience with the first group of twenty five. This also allows you to notice how the dark gray slowly transitions into increasingly more yellow (or shared) circumstances. To further understand this diagram I included a bar-graph type graphic that reiterates this information. Each line segment is comprised of twenty five circles so that you could follow one urn through the whole sequence, or a whole group.

transgenerational mapping It is one thing to understand the sequence collectively, but to zoom in and understand how complex it could become for just one family over 233 years is quite another thing. To do this I fictitiously created my future family tree and followed my familyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s experience on the site over a period of one sequence. The sequence primarily follows the movement of my mothers urn, but as time passes the diagram then follows the movement of my urn after my death, my grandchild, great-grandchild, great-great grandchild and so forth. By doing so you can begin to see how many visits the family would make to the site to move not only the first urn but all of the subsequent family urns that would follow. These visits are marked by a yellow outline and when viewed vertically you can see which living family members could conceivably travel together on those years to move the urns. The diagram ultimately revealed that eleven generations could be involved in this process.

the final sequence diagram This zoomed-in version of the sequence graphic allows you to take a closer look at the information previously described. You can also get a closer look at the architectural partis which are associated with each location and a few diagrammatic zone boundaries all of which will be described in detail in the next section.

the johnson family tree: a transgenerational mapping This closer look of my fictitious family tree allows you to examine just how complex the sequence becomes for just one family. To further expand on what you are seeing, the red information indicated a death, whereas the blue indicate a birth. When someone dies you can trace when their urn enters the first space by moving five years down the time line. As previously described, the yellow boxes indicate when that family memberâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s life coincides with an urn transition on site. These moments can also be identified by the vertical dashed lines. One last important thing to note is that the scenario I created only shows one child per generation simply out of simplicity because one can imagine how complex this graphic could become if a more realistic depiction was generated.

the S I T E : G R A H A M H O L L O W When searching for a site, especially one which would house such a powerful experience, I determined two important criteria: 1) the site had to be environmentally diverse and dynamic and 2) the site had to have some personal significance to me.

I reminisced on my trip to St. Louis and remembered the beautiful landscape of Pere Marquette State Park in Grafton, Illinois. I remembered how diverse the landscape was, its connection to the Illinois River and its personal significance to my trip and to my Momâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s life. Within the park I began to search for a specific site that could feasibly receive the program, which I had devised, and eventually I found the perfect location. My search was challenging because I wanted to try to find a site which didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t require me to destroy much of the natural environment, which proved difficult because the park is primarily covered in dense forest. Luckily I stumbled upon a valley, or hollow rather, that had enough uninterrupted open space within which I could construct the necropolis. Graham Hollow marks the south eastern boundary of Pere Marquette State Park. Running through it is a road that takes visitors from the scenic route back out to State Highway 100, which runs parallel along the Illinois River. This hollow measures roughly one mile in length to the edge of the river. The interior of the depression is flanked on three sides by steep hills that reach nearly 700 feet in height. The hills, and a decent percentage of the hollow, are covered with a dense forest of varied species. This amount of foliage creates a rich environment that will express its beauty throughout the four seasons, constantly changing the colors, textures and mood of the site.

The presence of the water was also something that intrigued me on this site. There are two moments along the site where water exists. To the south east of the site nestled within some dense tree coverage is a small lake, and to the south of the site is of course the Illinois River. The fact that there was the journey from the northern edge of the site, which is high and solidly packed with topography, to the southern edge of the site, which was low and fluid with water, began to reflect ideas related to the sequence. The idea of emotional heaviness closer to the time of the loss versus 233 years later when the emotional distance has been vastly increased. The site was revealing itself to be a valuable instrument to facilitate the program and future architectural concepts.

Topographic Mappings

Graham Hollow, Pere Marquette State Park - Grafton, ILLINOIS longitude & latitude 38.980096, -90.483098

Pere Marquette Park - Grafton, Illinois

atmosphere Pere Marquette State Park is a beautiful landscape full of dense forest. The tree species which populate this vast forested park include white oaks, sugar maples, shagbark hickory, flowering dogwood, northern red oak, white ash, redbud and sassafras. This varied foliage provides a beautiful natural environment that would transform the atmosphere within the changing of each season.

Pere Marquette Park - Grafton, Illinois

State Highway 100 - Grafton, Illinois

atmosphere The journey to the site brings you parallel to the Illinois River on State Highway 100. On one side is the river, low and reflective and along the other side are massive heavy cliffs with beautiful foliage clinging to the rough edges.

Figure Ground Study

Google Earth Satellite Image

the mapping I began to study the site to investigate its various properties, looking for themes and areas for intervention.

I referenced the sequence which contained eight moments with one moment of release. This brought me to outline eight zones on the site where these moments could be realized, including one moment where the sequence could terminate. The zones highlight various open spaces within the landscape. The top half of the site is characterized by spaces which are framed with trees from all sides and steep topographic gradation. The lower half of the site contains a series of fields, two of which are slightly sloping grassy plains and the third a marsh which extends out to the river.

At the moment where the marsh meets the river is an extremely large boulder in the river where I saw an opportunity for a special moment, perhaps the moment of release.

Zone Mapping

Topography

Layered Analysis

An overlay of all of the various mappings of the site into one composition of layered ideas. The overlays of information become rich, dense and complex.

Road

Tree Lines (Drip Edges)

55 13

144

233

The Sequence of Time: Fibonacci Number of Years After Death

34 89

5 8

Coinciding Transitions on Site

Volume of Urns + Total Number of Tranisitions during one full 233 cycle

Ring Thickness Number of Transitions in one Cycle 30

300 Diameter references volume of urns

75 25

750

175 475

125

Model/Diagram in Elevation

Order which coinciding events occur. Top first, Bottom Last.

Each layer represents a group of 25 urns

Model Connections - Link to Time Sequence

Extruded Site Area

Tree Canopy Outline

Site Zones

Capacity Diagram

Transition Diagram Vehicular Circulation

The Poised Armature The Imbeded Triumvriate

The Site: The Cavalcade Necropolis The Cadent Belvederes

The Quinquennial Vaults

The Diaphanous Belfry

The Descending Decemvirate The Punctuated Furrow

The Reticulated Pasture

Site Diagram; Zones

Topography of Site Context Topo Lines = 10â&#x20AC;&#x2122; in Elevation

Exploded Analytical Diagram This deconstructed diagram begins to break down and discuss all of the elements of the model to which it belongs (see following page).

The Cavalcade Necropolis Analytical Site Model

Plan View

Detail View

the C A V A L C A D E N E C R O P O L I S The Sequence of Generational Memory, the mapping of the site and the analysis on current thanantological issues needed unite to create a rich environment which would allow these components to be strung together and materialize into more than just an idea. This is the juncture where these ideas could now be manifested into architectural intervention. I desired an architectural landscape which could become an instrument which would play out the complex emotional and ritualized harmonies through space and time. These instruments of site and sequence became my Cavalcade Necropolis. I wanted the architecture of this necropolis to work as a spatial and material narrative that opened up a conversation about death but more importantly about the beauty of life, family and memory. A place powerful enough to continually activate such a rich collaboration of friends and family and to inspire them to return and carry out this new transgenerational tradition. Following are quotes from one of my favorite author’s, Juhani Pallasmaa. His writing and opinions are ones which align to what I aim to achieve with my architecture, not only within this project, but throughout my career. I feel that these following quotes embody what I hope the project could provide for others through design.

“An architectural experience silences all external noise; it focuses attention on one’s very existence. Architecture as all art, makes us aware of our fundamental solitude. At the same time, architecture detaches us from the present and allows us to experience the slow, firm flow of time and tradition. Buildings and cities are instruments and museums of time. They enable us to see and understand the passing of history.” “The timeless task of architecture is to create embodied existential metaphors that concretize and structure man’s being in the world.” “Architecture strengthens verticality of our experience of the world. At the same time that architecture makes us aware of the depth of the earth, it makes us dream of levitation and flight” ~ Juhani Pallasmaa

The Cavalcade Necropolis Analytical Site Model

conceptual strategies The diagram to the left begins to describe my conceptual intent for creating spatial, material and phenomenological relationships through my architecture.

I wanted the spatial qualities to be more personal and private in the beginning versus open and public towards the end. I desired this as to reflect the emotions and The phenomena of the site would be the constant frame of reference and would always be the consistent element which would punctuate and frame the architecture.

The sketches to the right were conceptual site sections which gestured my material intent on the site. Carved sectional qualities to the left slowly transitioning to a tectonic and ephemeral language towards the end. Finally I began to investigate site intervention by building a material model which began to evoke some of the gestures I expressed in the sketches above.

The Quinquennial Vaults

The Descending Decemvirate

The Embedded Triumvirate

The site plan of the Cavalcade Necropolis is a mysterious and multi-layered animal. The outline of the site and the three defined areas (The Chambers of the Contoured Territory, The Dancing Datums of the Terra Firma, The Elevated Fields of the Final Horizon) are highlighted through various tones of color. The architecture presents itself as a series of partiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s with labels to describe time and character. The red hued areas define Areas of Abeyance within the landscape. A path between the architectural interventions is revealed by following a series of Fractured Guideposts. Graham Hollow Road, which cuts through the valley of the site, provides various places for pause and entry to the three sections of the site. Three other roads have been defined to allow access to the Caretakers three spaces: The Office, The Workshop, The Residence. When viewed as a whole the site presents itself as a landscape of intervention and the spaces between, which offers an ambiguity to the experience while also allowing for exploration throughout the site.

the C H A M B E R S of the C O N T O U R E D T E R R I T O R Y The first region of the site is defined by the steep topographic nature of the landscape. This contextual condition mimics the heavy psychology of the experience of death. For many the first decade or so after someone close dies is a troubling time. One often struggles to find ground to walk on as a major readjustment to their life must sometimes be made. By utilizing the topography of the site my intent was to provide that ground for those so close to the loss and use the earth as a protective and stable home for those to leave the remains of their loved ones. The constructed nature of these three interventions would also be materially heavy and protective, with the only thing piercing them being the beauty of the sky so that one could reconnect to the heavens. These spaces would also provide a personal and more or less privatized experience so that the families would feel like their loved ones are special in these spaces and not simply just a number.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the Q U I N Q U E N N I A L V A U L T S

5 years after death 25 urn capacity 3 year occupancy The sequence begins in the silent and solemn chambers of The Quinquennial Vaults. These five chambers, which are embedded deep into the slope of the context, are defined by thick concrete construction which is accentuated with large light wells which provide a connection to the sky above. Each chamber, or vault, contains individual spaces for five urns. The spaces are separated by partition walls as to provide a sense of privacy and ownership over the space. The intent was to create an environment that a family would feel like they were placing their loved ones remains in a protected and personal space in which they would feel safe leaving them for three years. Each chamber would include a private space for privacy or reflection. The axial circulation separates each chamber and connects them together and with the external environment. sadness, containment, deep, heavy, hope, protection, silence, privacy, intimacy, static

Parti Drawing Five square vaults, emdedded in the earth with circulation in between.

Section Model Laser Cut Chip Board, Walnut, White Strathmore, Photograph Backing The entry into the vaults are compressed and then the space immediately expands at the base of the steps in the interior. The urn spaces are nestled into the walls creating their own privatized space.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the D E S C E N D I N G D E C E M V I R A T E

8 years after death 50 urn capacity 5 year occupancy

The second space the urn arrives to is one which describes the landscape through the experience of the architecture. The Descending Decemvirate is composed of ten wooden volumes suspended off of the western length of a large heavy wall. On the eastern length of the wall is circulation which defies the intense slope of the landscape. As one moves down this path one can enter one of the volumes by passing through a threshold in the wall. One then descends vertically downward towards the surface of the ground on a scissor staircase. One begins to reconnect with the landscape during this descension, understanding the extremity of the slope. Eventually one reaches a bridge which is nearly at grade and which can allow you to ramp to the next volume or provide you access to another stair which brings you below grade into the chamber containing the urns. Each volume has a heavy concrete chamber at is base, embedded in the earth, containing five urns. Although the number of urns in each chamber remains the same as the Quinquennial Vaults the removal of partition walls begins to open up the space more, making the urn spaces slightly less private. mark, descent, protected, sheathed, warm, stretch, depth, oppose, trace, silence, verticality, downward

Parti Drawing A strong datum articulated by a wall and ten volumes which march along the landscape. In section the volumes touch the ground and become embedded within the land.

Threshold

Verticality

This moment exists along the horizontal circulation path marking the threshold moment into each volume while also providing a view out to the landscape.

The volumes measure the distance from the sloping land below through its verticality. Stairs circulate one downward to the belly of the earth where the urns are protected within a heavy concrete environment.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the E M B E D D E D T R I U M V I R A T E

13 years after death 75 urn capacity 8 year occupancy

The third and final location within this region is The Embedded Triumvirate. These three large chambers are, as their name describes, embedded into the hillside. Each chamber is organized with a large wall which directs one into and under the landscape and into the coinciding chamber which contains twenty five urns. At this point the urn is now thirteen years from the anniversary of death so I felt it was appropriate to begin to lessen the privacy of the space and allow more opportunity for social engagement. The horizontal chambers are accented by a wooden tower which rises out of the ground up towards the trees to provide a view of the landscape and also a moment of silence and privacy. community, silence, neighbor, division, horizontal, direction, earth, sky, protection

Parti Drawing Three large volumes while slide into the oncoming slope of the landscape. Strong walls guide you into each space. The large urn volumes are each punctuated with a private tower for privacy and a vertical experience of the landscape.

A Space Divided The large urn volume is divided by a heavy wall which also defines the moment of entry. The circulation is also flanked by the edge of the next urn volume.

the D A N C I N G D A T U M S of the T E R R A F I R M A The second region of the site is home to two interventions that act as datums on the landscape. Their interaction with their environment is not invasive as within the prior territory but rather one that simply traverses it in a controlled and linear way. These two moments in the necropolis occur within a lengthy period of time after a death has occurred, twenty one and thirty four years from the anniversary of death. This period of time is still within a reasonable distance from the death that the person whom originally placed the urn could still be living and involved in this ritual. These moments in the sequence are designed to be less private and more integrated with the beauty of the landscape. I desired for there to be still some sense of containment but allow it to be less explicit than the prior architectural experiences on site. By doing so I wanted to begin to create some ambiguity between the experience of the architecture and the landscape to more or less bring the attention away from the burden of the urn and towards the beauty of the life around you.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the P U N C T U A T E D F U R R O W

21 years after death 125 urn capacity 13 year occupancy

The fourth space in the sequence is defined as a furrow, or trench, in the landscape. This exterior corridor is framed by a heavy wall to the northwest, which holds back the oncoming slope, and opposite to it is a punctuated wooden wall which contains small volumes which provide a home for the urns. The concrete wall is carved away to provide seating and also serves as a structural support for the beams which reach out and support the wooden urn wall. The space becomes a casual path through nature which provides moments of rest within a linear gallery of urns. The open, yet contained, space is much less protrusive than the spaces within the Chambers of the Contoured Territory which allow one to feel more connected with the beauty around them and less focused on the solemn nature of the activity. corridor, length, punctuation, pause, rhythm, bound, directed, path, stretch

Parti Drawing A long linear path defined by a large wall and a thin wall which terminate at a point of release and a vertical moment for reflection.

Punctuation The wooden wall is punctuated by structure at the top and by urn holders along its bottom portion. The heavy structural wall opposite that provides the structure for the wooden wall and holds back the oncoming slope, in essence creating a flat trench to walk on. The heavy wall is punctuated by carved moments for seating.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the C A D E N T B E L V E D E R E S

34 years after death 175 urn capacity 21 year occupancy

The second and final space within the Dancing Datums of the Terra Firma are a series of raised platforms called the Cadent Belvederes. These viewing decks march along a bent datum across a broad landscape framed by an open field to the west and a dense forest to the east. The decks are separated by stairs which create a constant rhythm of movement along the length of the path. This cadence brings a dynamic yet hypnotic quality to the movement across this site. The moments of pause along this wave of motion are in the form of viewing platforms which extend outward towards the landscape to the west. These platforms are framed from above with a delicate screen which are covered in various flowering grapevines as to soften the solid hapticity of the platforms. Along the eastern edge of the datum, on each platform, are the containers for the urns framed inside the wall which acts as a spine to the entire datum. There is a special moment where the datum bends, creating a space beyond the spine to have a moment of privacy and reflection. cadence, platform, open, outward, broad, datum, hypnotic, framed, length

Parti Drawing A bend datum articulated by a series of platforms which provide both a viewing of the landscape and a viewing of the urns which reside in the wall to the north. A moment of privacy violates the wall and extends into the environment beyond.

Framed Platforms The platforms are framed by a floating screen and backed by a framed wall for the urns to be placed within. The platforms are separated by a series of steps up and down and a break in the wall which frames the landscape along the journey.

the E L E V A T E D F I E L D S of the F I N A L H O R I Z O N The third and final region on the site is one of great freedom and relief. This area contains three moments of architectural expression and the final moment of release for the terminus of the sequence. By the time one reaches this they will be a minimum of fifty five years beyond the event of death, so there is quite a sense of emotional distance from the initial impact of the loss and most likely those that are involved in this portion of the sequence will only have an indirect connection to the one whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s urn they are moving. The architecture responds to this emotional distance by becoming thin and ambiguous. This theme manifests itself by providing spaces than contain an open ended network of locations to place the urn. The architectural expression of this territory is opposite of the first region which is materially heavy and explicitly defined.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the D I A P H A N O U S B E L F R Y

55 years after death 300 urn capacity 34 year occupancy

The first space within the final territory is the Diaphanous Belfry. This moment along the sequence breaks away from the horizontal nature of the prior spaces and provides a vertical venue to experience the site in a new way. This tectonic wooden tower brings one off the ground and above the trees providing a 360 degree view of the entire site. Central to the space is a skeletal framework which cuts its way throughout the entire tower providing an open ended opportunity to house the urns. The west end of the tower is elevated over a small lake. This provides a moment for the occupants to descend down an exterior stair for private moment along the waters edge. This stair tower is held in place by a small bell tower which one can engage with as to activate the space and entire site even further. The intent for this feature would be to add another layer of human presence to the site, activating the aural senses. vertical, transparency, tectonic, skeletal, frame, freedom, sound, water

Ambiguous Boundary The tower is divided by a skeletal wall which provides spaces for the urns to be held. The space is also flanked by a similar skeletal plane which helps further define the boundaries of the space while maintaining a sense of connection with the landscape beyond.

Parti Drawing A long ramp brings one up to the first level which is immediately defined by vertical circulation. The central spine of the space provides the vertical matrix for the urns. The space reaches out to the lake and provides a moment to connect to it and to activate the bell, resonating sound into the landscape.

Diaphanous Skeleton The building is articulated by a skeletal structure which creates a constant exposure to the interior spaces and the exterior environment. This highly tectonic environment is quite the contrast from the first series of stereotomic spaces on the site.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the R E T I C U L A T E D P A S T U R E

89 years after death 475 urn capacity 55 year occupancy

The second moment of architecture within this region presents itself in the form of a Reticulated Pasture. The experience begins with a long heavy wall running north and south which acts as a structural anchor to a series of open trusses that cantilever over the field to the east. This heavy wall also acts as a container for a series of baskets which play an important role within the intervention, as they become the viewing vessels for the urns. These baskets attach to the trusses and can be suspended anywhere along the length of the structural matrix allowing for an ever changing landscape of urns. This dynamic environment is inspired by the idea of change and playful freedom. I wanted it to feel like a place that wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t necessarily contained or explicit. expansive, random, freedom, matrix, hung, ambiguous, structured, playful, anchor, plenum

Parti Drawing A strong wall which supports a structural matrix that acts as a raised horizontal field across the landscape. The highly regular structure provides the possibility for an every changing landscape of urns.

Planted Freedom The long structural joists provide tracts for the urn baskets to be â&#x20AC;&#x153;plantedâ&#x20AC;? or placed at any point along the matrix. These baskets are stored within the massive wall to the south.

Section Model Laser Cut Chipboard, White Strathmore, Walnut, Photographed Backing.

the P O I S E D A R M A T U R E

144 years after death 750 urn capacity 89 year occupancy

The final constructed space along the sequence is the Poised Armature. This space is elevated above a low marsh which terminates into the Illinois River. This long, linear path is flanked by an equally long grid-like armature which allows for placement of the urns. This five level wall is punctuated by intermittent circular stairs which allow for vertical circulation to the upper levels. On the opposite side of the path are two long stereotomic structures which provide a space for the urns once they have been released after they have remained in the tectonic armature for 89 years. Near the edge of the river rises a short tower which allows for a moment of privacy, reflection and a view of the entire landscape. path, release, vertical, horizontal, dichotomy, heavy, light, ethereal, flanked, tectonic

Parti Drawing A long path which is bound by two elements, the tectonic and the stereotomic. The tectonic armature to the north which extends the furthest east and west, and the two shorter stereotomic walls which are subdivided twice to create circulation within.

The Tectonic Armature The long tectonic armature holds the urns at random. While there will 750 urns contained within this matrix there will be a vast amount of empty space rather than occupied space. This over abundance of storage is to allow the wall to constantly change and to maintain its ethereal qualities within the context. The stereotomic wall opposite holds the empty urns after they have been released.

the R O C K of R E L E A S E

233 years after death

The last moment along the sequence is the final moment of release, which occurs 233 years after death has occured. This space is not a constructed moment but rather a naturally existing one that provides a possibility for the dispersal of ashes. The elevated walkway of the Poised Armature eventually reaches the rivers edge where a giant boulder awaits. A small platform allows one to reach the boulder and release the ashes if one desires. I imagine that over time the ashes would leave a tinge upon the surface of the boulder, marking the final moments of this sequence. end, pride, elation, water, air, dispersal, platform, tinge, finality

L A M E N T A T I O N on F I N A L I T Y American philosopher, William Ernest Hocking, once wrote that “man is the only animal that contemplates death, and also the only animal that shows any sign of doubt of its finality.” One of the most beautiful and interesting aspects of humankind is our ability to construct realities beyond that which knowingly exist. This creative quality is both our blessing and our curse as it simultaneously makes us more than just beings of instinct and science but also ones which fabricate psychological and cultural constructs in order to validate and increase value to our existence. Our existential struggle with our ego makes it difficult for us to accept that we are simple biological animals that are meant to live and then to die. We struggle against this because of our capacity to invent, manipulate, comprehend and affect the world around us. Our emotional intellect tells us that our lives must mean more than a leaf that simply withers away and dies. Why else could it be so hard to accept that the meaning of life is to live and then to die? Could it possibly be because our irrational emotions tend supersede our rational intellect?

Given our desire to believe that there is more to our lives than just a biological cycle, we have invested in religion and other ways of convincing ourselves that life extends beyond the grave. Unfortunately is not through heaven which we actually continue to exist within the world of the living. How we actually extend ourselves beyond our natural lives, are through existing within the narratives of our various cultures until we are forgotten. The greater the cultural achievement the more widespread the narrative becomes and the longer it remains. Leonardo da Vinci’s narrative has continued through the written and spoken word for 439 years simply because of the breadth of his affect on culture. While we all cannot extend our narratives within that scope we can maintain that sense of immortality within our own families through enhancing and providing the structure for those stories to be shared. I believe that it is integral to our development as a species to return to a culture which is less shortsighted and more connected to the past, most specifically to our own familial antiquity. Our culture currently is so fast paced and forward focused that we just discard and ignore death, instead of holding onto the value of what was behind us, using that for our future, folding it continuously into our lives. More specifically, this progressive distancing from death is generating a more exaggerated disconnect from our own personal family histories. We are losing a sense of transgenerational familial connectivity which, if in place, could strengthen our bonds to the narratives and lives which paved the way for our own to be possible, likely increasing the value of our lives by strengthening the connection to a much greater narrative than just our own. I believe that by becoming more connected to our genealogy that we will reduce our existential terror towards death through satisfying our ego’s desire for immortality. The Sequence of Generational Memory was my attempt to strengthen the transgenerational divide, which I feel is creating a culture that is disconnected from their own familial narratives. This sequence, housed by the architectural landscape of the Cavalcade Necropolis,

can only be activated and validated through shared responsibility among family and friends. It requires that the tradition be passed down over many generations in order for it to reach it’s conclusion, which when viewing my fictitious family tree, could mean that there never is a conclusion as long as the family continues to utilize the sequence as a posthumous method of memorial. A tradition like this not only continues to bond family together but it serves the purpose to open up a conversation about life, death and the narratives in between, which allow us to understand who we are and where we have come from, while fulfilling our self-indulgent ego’s need for immortality.

I ask you to take the ideas proposed within the document and question how you would like to remembered. Would you prefer a monument of stone inscribed with your name and length of life, or perhaps an urn which would contain the transformed nature of your physical existence? Would you like to be part of a tradition which has the ability to span ten or more generations? Would you like to know that your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchild would one day hold your urn and learn about who you were, what your life meant to your friends and family? The memory of your life within a tradition like this could potentially create a bond that would span hundreds of years likely strengthening the connectivity of your family history. I think the prospect of immortality through the collective memory of a families continued narrative provides much more emotional value than an inscribed stone marking the earth left alone to be lost within the silence of a cemetery. Finality is not something to be lamented, but rather something to be celebrated. The theme of this research has been about continuation through conversation, experience and tradition, so to write as if I were concluding something seems rather incongruous to the themes which I have established. Finality within a project such as this is as ambiguous as the finality of death is within our culture. To a certain end there is a conclusion which allows us to move on, yet there also remains the possibility of continuation through the translation or memory of these ideas within future endeavours, which is something I personally look forward to moving beyond this juncture. What is to be lamented is what this conclusion signifies, the end of an academic experience. With the submission of this document I conclude my tenure as a graduate student at the University of South Florida’s School of Architecture and Community Design, a four year investment of time and money and creativity. Without the education I received here I would not have been able to structure and create this body of work which memorializes the beauty of life and potential to exemplify the poetics of death. I end this with a quote from Thomas Campbell, which greeted you at the beginning of this document. I feel that it embodies our humanity and the over arching themes which have been layered throughout this research: “To live in the hearts of others is not to die”

the M N E M O N I C H O M E S According to the World English Dictionary the function of a “memorial” is “to preserve the memory of the dead or a past event.” The idea of memory and death go hand in hand, especially within the themes which I have developed. Another prominent motif within my work on death regards the idea of the narrative. The ideas of an architectural narrative and developing an architecture of memory developed out of a study I did prior to the creation of the Sequence of Generational Memory and the Cavalcade Necropolis. The study I completed was meant to investigate the nature of memory and narrative within architectural design. To further make a connection to death I decided that it would be appropriate to revisit something from the past and something which holds powerful emotions. I ultimately decided to use my own life as a reference for this study. I started by selecting three homes which I grew up in over a span of seven years. Since my life had “passed away” from those places and contained potent and powerfully emotional memories I decided that recreating them into spatial narratives would be a useful exercise towards an eventual investigation on thanantological space. To begin these studies I began by revisiting my life within these homes by writing quick narratives of my memory of living within them. After allowing myself to be placed back in those moments I began sketching over reproductions of the footprints of these homes, drawing plan-related gestures and details which corresponded with physical and experiential qualities of both the homes and the narrative of my life within the homes. Through a this layered and continual process of drawing I developed plans of these new mnemonic homes which eventually were connected by spatial themes, tectonics and materiality. What I ended up with was an understanding of how to architecturally connect a series of past events through a process of mnemonic design. These designs inspired discussions about the reality of the domestic experience and how we interpret home through our experience of life within it. This process not only has ultimately changed my way of designing forever but opened my eyes to a whole new area of research regarding space, place and architectural narrative.

Memory is often ambiguously recalled within the mind. It is not always certain what details will maintain their presence within one’s psyche. Memories can be multi-layered often mixing with others, creating hybrid memories or strange connections. To accentuate this characteristic of memory I have printed the following pages on a media which begins to inspire a similar sense of multi-layered ambiguity.

CONTENTS Home 1: Sarasota, Florida

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Home 3: Ojai, California

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Home 2: Ojai, California

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home 1 : S A R A S O T A My parents separating was a heartbreaking event for me as I was too young to understand the complexity of human relationships within the context of marriage and to this day I still am not clear as to the real reasons of the separation. Moving to Sarasota was difficult for me and it was the beginning of what I called my “life curse” which was basically being ripped from my “home” and having to start my life all over again... this theme continued many more times throughout my childhood and it got more difficult to cope with each and every time. This move was probably my easiest to cope with as the neighborhood I moved into was amazingly child friendly and offered a vast and varied external environment to explore and discover. To this day this place contained my fondest memories as a growing child.

Our home was located in a private gated community composed of upper middle class med rev style homes, very suburban. There were a series of man-made lakes to enjoy (full of various size alligators), a large golf course, and hidden trails throughout. Since this development was constantly growing there were also plenty of homes in construction, which was my first experience of the inprogress constructed environment. My life in this place primarily existed away from home. I was extremely active with my friends in the neighborhood. We explored and played outside as often as we could as our options for childhood pleasure were greatly stimulated from our varied environment. My life indoors, inside our actual home was pleasant and youthful as well. I was fortunate to have every new toy I could have ever wanted (mostly purchased from my father back when we lived in California) so I always was entertained. While at home I spent most of my time playing in the living room (usually making a mess). There was a large two story volume right outside of my Mom’s room which overlooked the lanai. This space had no furniture but this is primarily where I played with my toys, it was my domain. Connecting that large space and the living room was the kitchen, and on the opposite side of the kitchen area, directly connecting the grand space and living space was a bar area to sit and eat, where I often played as well. I always imagined the cantilevering bar as a building or platform which my action figures would interact with. This space is also where I did my homework, so it carried a negative connotation as well. Beyond this space was the living room with the couches and television. This is where I practiced karate and watched my favorite TV shows. This is also where I often remember hearing the sound of thunder when the storms rolled through. There were a few areas of my home that were a little foreign to me. Primarily I was very disconnected with the second floor, mainly because my Mom’s two good friends lived up there and although they were never home (due to their traveling jobs) I always felt I didn’t belong up there. The other space I didn’t go into often was my Mom’s room, and this room was perhaps the most important space in the

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home for me both graphically in my memory and also in retrospect was very descriptive of the emotional state of my Mom at the time.

My Moms room was pitch black all of the time. The walls were a very deep dark purple, she had blackout curtains over every window and she was always in there alone and in the dark with a little night table lamp on to read. The contrast of light from the rest of the house to her room was extreme. It was also at this point in my life I started to contemplate death, and death was a scary mysterious and confusing concept for me. I couldn’t understand not being alive. I also often thought about my Mom dying and how that would make me feel. Given that she was a smoker, and that I was beginning to understand that, that habit can lead to death, compounded with the fact that sometimes she would sleep late I would often think she was dead. I sometimes went into her room just to wake her up and make sure she was alive. A lot of the time my Mom’s door was closed. I could often hear her yelling and arguing with my Dad on the phone, and I would always try to eavesdrop. I would listen through the door, it was almost as if I was listening to the room beyond and the door was my hearing aid, or hindrance depending on how you view it. Suddenly and unexpectedly my Dad visited us and immediately after that visit they decided to get back together. It wasn’t until after my Mom’s death that it was revealed to me that the reason for this rekindling was the fact that my Mom attempted suicide. My Dad flew in to make sure she was alright and he decided he wanted to take care of her, protect her... so they got back together. Little did they know it would be a very unhappy and tumultuous road ahead.

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8451 Turnberry Circle, Sarasota, FL 34241

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the plan dichotomy, stern, playful, heavy, darkness, light, sadness, happiness, containment, freedom, rotting, growing, inside, outside A strong axial wall begins to separate and define the two environments of the plan. To the right is a depressed heavy volume that has almost been carved away. To the left is a playful environment of vertical planes defining areas with slightly depressed and raised horizontal planes. The heavy spatial volume is punctuated with slices of light both from the wall and the ceiling plane. Wrapping around this volume is a thin screen which begins to create a visual barrier between an outside occupant and the exterior of the volume. This was conceived as an ambiguous element that was meant to soften ones external experience of the heavy monument beyond it. Engaging with the screen is a descending ramp which brings one into the space between the screen and the volume eventually to the threshold of the monument itself. The low wall space to the left of the mass is to be considered an architectural garden of walls and steps. A playful place which, through framing, references the ominous monumental space which is nestled in the site beyond the axial wall.

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dichotomy A tension between two worlds: the ominous mass and the playful landscape. These two elements create their own emotions while always referencing one another, creating a constant dialogue between one another. The ominous mass, dark, heavy, brooding and almost rotting is contrasted by the playful partitions and subtle rises and falls of the ground plane adjacent to it. A space of pause versus a space of movement. A space of emotion versus a space of emotional freedom.

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“The Space of Emotional Weight”

Schematic Construct Graphic

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“Space of the Suicide” Plaster, Spray Paint, Gold Leaf, Powdered Graphite An impression of a pill bottle is left within the abstracted space of my Mother’s bed, where she attempted to take her own life. The details of this event are unclear to me as I never knew about this until after her death over a decade later. Details of someone’s life, like these, seem to surface after they have left us in the living.

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The Rusted Threshold Plaster, Spray Paint, Chip Board, Gold Leaf, Metal Hinges An internal window into the space of rest. A rusted aperature meant to evoke a sense of deterioration and pain. The stains of its decay present on the floor as time progresses. Traces of sadness through materiality.

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home 2 : O J A I # 1 My sudden and unexpected return to the west coast was another blow to my psyche. This time I was placed in a small resort town of 9,000 people. This was one of those quaint places with only one stop light and where most children went to the same school, though there were other options. For a place where people live a very relaxed lifestyle I certainly have the least relaxed memories for my home here was one of insecurities and introversion. This home in particular was the nicest location I ever lived in. It was a mini-mansion on top of a mountain edge which overlooked the whole valley of Ojai. I could see my elementary school from our panoramic cantilevering wooden deck. This white home had 20 foot ceilings, a large octagon shaped living room, gracious spaces and breathtaking views. Because of its high location it was very physically challenging to ascend the hill every day (though the descent was so much fun) so as a result I spent most of my time at home. Another factor that played into my solidarity up on the hill was the fact that I had no friends and I was starting middle school in a place where everyone grew up together, so I felt like an outsider, and I was also going through an awkward transition into adolescence.

At my home in Ojai I had the entire half level story to myself which had two bedrooms and a shared bathroom. Throughout my time there I frequently switched between the two rooms, I really never was attached to either of them. My upstairs wing was not the space that I gravitated towards, I mostly spent my time in one specific area of the grand living room, a small 8 foot radius area close to the television and the same leather chair where I used to brush my Mom’s hair. It was in this area that I discovered my appreciate for music, watched television and had my first real kiss. It was also this area where I would sit and subject myself to the intense arguments my parents would get into night after night.

I would always remember my Mom making dinner in the kitchen every night... the smell of dinner cooking and the dim light through the windows began my psychological preparation for what was to usually come soon after. A tension would wash over me, and my small space would be my fortress, my area that protected me. I could always hear the sound of the garage door opening and the footsteps on my Dad coming up the stairs... with each pound of his foot and it’s resulting wooden echo throughout the house I became more and more tense and I kept my eyes locked on the television in order to not make eye contact with my father because I didn’t want to read the mood on his face. All of the arguments my parents had were screaming matches and they usually occurred in the kitchen or directly behind me on the couch. I always stayed my ground, in my space. I never ran to my room, it wasn’t where I felt powerful. In some way I wanted to see how far they would take their arguments with me sitting right there. Sometimes my Dad would turn off the TV thinking that with the TV off I would leave the living room, but I didn’t. I continued to star at the blackness of the reflective television

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screen, now being able to see the space behind me and the movement and expressions happening behind my back.

There were three nights which particularly stand out in my mind. One night involved me trying to fall asleep and I could hear my parents arguing downstairs. I remember hearing a large thud against this small wall which connected the staircase to my room to the garage. I crawled out of bed and opened my door to hear if I could hear what was going on. I soon realized that my Dad had pinned my Mom to that wall and was yelling at her. I don’t recall what he was saying but I do remember the feeling in my stomach, it was in a million knots. On another night my Mom got so frustrated she threw a glass into the kitchen and it shattered everywhere. On yet another night they were arguing in the kitchen and I remember having enough of the fighting so I left my area and walked into the kitchen and screamed “does this make you happy? why do you always fight” and they looked at me and denied that they were fighting. The most memorable even was one that forever altered my personal space in the living room. One night I woke up to the police putting my Dad in handcuffs. That night my Mom slept in my room and we eventually left and stayed the night at a friend of our families. When I returned home I saw a stain of blood right next to the chair I always sat next to. It was a sizable portion of blood and I later found out it was because my Mom through an ashtray at my father’s nose after he pushed her down to the ground. That stain remained there for the rest of my time at home, the violence, both physical and emotional, was permanently stained in my personal safe space.

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1221 North Singal Street, Ojai, CA 93023

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the plan isolation, position, perspective, corner, visibility, focus, violence, protection, strength, threshold, periphery This mnemonic home is centrally organized around a small explicitly defined space, anchored by a carved mass which provides a space for seating. This entire space is an abstraction of my spatial and emotional experience of my living room, where I spent most of my time. The psychological barriers which I developed here are abstracted into walls which protect and define this personal space. This space provides three points of visual release, each providing a different emotional feeling: anticipation, chaos and peace. The point of entry brings you upstairs to the first level which upon entering you have a direct view into the small private space. To the right is the garden of violence which is an open space punctuated by thin rusted elements.

Hugging the backside of the garden of violence is a long curved ramp which brings you back down to grade and to a tower which you can ascend and view the entire environment from above.

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View to the Outside

The Garden of Violence

Visual Threshold Moments

perspective understanding

Exterior Perpective

Three thresholds: One of anticipation, anticipating movement and entry. One of chaos, viewing into an environment of punctuated violence. One of peace, accessing the sky and mountains, and escape where one urns to be.

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Layered Section Perspective Composition Laser Cut White Strathmore, Watercolor Paper, Xylol Transfer This drawing/model is a series of built up section perspectives which create an understanding of each of the three thresholds. Below these sections rests a plan cut of this space for reference.

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Close Up: Layered Section Perspective Composition Laser Cut White Strathmore, Watercolor Paper, Xylol Transfer

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home 3 : O J A I # 2 Eventually we moved from our house onto the hill to a one story home in the valley only one block away from my middle school. This move opened up opportunities for me as now I didn’t have to fight the physicality of my location to enjoy the place in which I lived. During my time at this home I spent a lot of time away from home, but this was also during the time that the first Playstation was released so I balanced my time between homework, games and the outdoors. During this time of my life I became much more academically successful as I didn’t have friends to distract me. I became interested in sports and began to practice to join my future high school’s award winning cross country team. I finally began to make some friends as well. My life was starting to normalize finally. My home life wasn’t emotionally any different than my prior home though. I found my space again right next to the same chair, watching TV, playing games on that TV and also again listening to every argument which was constantly occurring behind me. For me this home was never really something that felt like home to me, as we never really ever fully unpacked and there were three rooms I never really went into. I also never used our pool or the backyard, I always either hung out in my room, my living room space or played outside in the city. I was much stronger in this home and I think that came with the freedom to escape it when I wanted.

Outside of the same spatial and psychological relationship I had with the chair in the prior home the other memory I have is another auditory one in relationship to yet another wall. My parents room and my room shared a wall from which I could usually hear minimally through. One night woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my Mom frantically screaming and then crying hysterically. I instantly knew something bad had happened and I intuitively knew that someone had died. I immediately ran into my parents room and grabbed my Mom tightly hugging her and she told me her Dad had passed away. This event in her life would forever change her, similarly as her death changed mine. My final most important memory at this home was the day my Mom told me that her and my Dad were going to get a divorce. My Mom was putting some items away in this little niche located in the rear of the living room, a sort of office area... she was on her knees and began to cry... I went up to her and put my hand on her shoulder and she told me that she was sorry to do this to me again and that she “really tried.” It was her small space of surrender, and it was where a simple touch from me communicated to her that I was okay and supportive of what she felt she needed to do.

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608 Country Club Drive, Ojai, CA 93023

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the plan transition, journey, understanding, effort, resolution, path This final mnemonic home is provides a solution to the family narrative which had occurred throughout the prior narratives. The plan structured as a path that brings you through three corridors to the three main spaces within the home. The first space is the preface, which the space of peace can be viewed through an opening in a threshold which is locked. As one moves beyond this space they ramp down into a circular space in which you can activate the door above to transition into that previously locked space. This movement downward to achieve this is supposed to reference the idea of hitting rock bottom before rising above it and progressing to a new and renewed place. The final space is an exterior space framed by walls and thresholds which leads you out of the intervention.

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“Space of Transformation”

Conceptual Diagram, Interlocking Spaces.

View into the “Space of Peace”

sequence of space

Exterior Perspective

Two worlds interlock together with a keystone which acts as a gate between the two. You must experience the spaces to be able to navigate through and between them. The keystone space provides the mode for transition between two realms.

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Layered Section Narrative A series of section cuts layered together to expose formal and spatial relationships.

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“Sequence of Spaces”

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the B L O G : the A R C H I T E C T U R E of D E A T H Before any responsible academic mind can comment and expand upon the discourse of any topic one needs to compile research which begins to inform and outline the specific subject matter. In todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s age of fast information I decided to utilize the internet in an experiment to allow research to be affected by the public through the venue of a blog. My intent was to create an online discussion as my research was progressing as to allow those discussions to lead to new avenues of exploration. I contacted the department of psychology, the department of anthropology and of course the department of architecture to find academics who would possibly be interested in participating with my online venture. Lucikly I was able to find one or more interested people from each department to be included in this experiment along with a handful of my colleagues from school. Following are the entries which I had posted over the length of the summer including the commentary that was recieved while these topics and issues were being raised.

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CONTENTS Why We Are Here 126 Kathryn Ann Cooper 127 The Architecture of Death 128 Terror Management Theory 130 The Infinity Burial Project 137 Images of the Landscape of Death 140 Birth, Life, Maturity, Death 143 The Bios Urn 143 Embodied Images and Lived Metaphors

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Merry Cemetery - Sapanta, Romania 149

Now What? 152 Linearity, Path and Periphery 153 The Common Thread 156 Open Air Cremation - Pashupatinath Temple (Kathmandu, Nepal)

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Pere Lachaise Cemetery - Paris, France 161

Bodily Transformation and Vicissitude 162 “Lines” 164 Cemeteries in Summation 165

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WHY WE ARE HERE Monday, May 16, 2011 Dear Friends, Faculty and Peers,

This summer I have registered for an Independent Study that will help with my transition into my Master’s Research Project (Thesis) in the Fall & Spring. What I have in mind requires the intellectual input from a variety of individuals, as many as possible would be preferred.

Within an architectural education there seems to be little emphasis on writing, but plenty of emphasis on communication. While most of how we communicate as architects are through graphic/visual means there is also a lot of verbal and written communication that happens as well in our professional lives, but as students we are not required to focus on writing as a means of expression. While this is understandable, given the importance of needing to learn visual language, I find it difficult to imagine going into thesis/individual research, which requires a large body of written explanation, that we all can jump right in and write a successful document. Personally, I feel an exercise in written communication is needed as well as a period of contemplation, reading and research before the endeavor of a thesis can be undertaken. Before I explain the nature of my Independent Study, I would like to share the synopsis of my thesis which I had to write for the class “Research Methods.” You will find it below. The Architecture of Death by Daniel Johnson

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Scottish poet, Thomas Campbell, once wrote, “to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.” The weight we leave behind when we die is a heavy load to bear for those who survive us. Historically, we have displaced this physical and emotional weight, either burying it in the ground beneath our feet or capturing it inside vessels which aim to honor our loved ones. This project is an investigation of scale, material, memory, honor and ritual through a study of the architecture of death. Specifically this research will focus on the ritual of cremation and its role in today’s society, while also investigating the many scales of this rite: the cremation of the body, the construction of an urn, and the storage of urns within a sacred space. Ultimately, I aim to increase understanding of the psychological and existential narratives of these emotional and solemn spaces through architectural research and application. Although I state in the above synopsis that my focus in on cremation, the scope of my thesis aim’s to explore beyond cremation and columbaria now, as I have realized that my interests and the importance of other types of funerary arrangements are integral to my research and understanding of the spaces we create for death.

My research aims to explore many different areas of study including socio-cultural anthropology, cross-cultural and environmental psychology, architecture, mathematics and perhaps even literature. I have a lot of reading and research ahead of me, which is why I would like to get a lot of that started immediately. I want to spend the summer stirring up a conversation about these topics and allowing the voices, opinions, and expertise of many influence, guide and develop the ideas I have stirring in my mind. To do so I am going to start

a blog which I will use as a platform for intellectual discussion about these topics. As I read, research and sketch I will post weekly updates where followers can read and respond fueling the research and helping it develop. At the end of the summer I plan on either writing a short paper on how this “experiment” went, and or, making a small physical document cataloging everything that was discussed, including weaving in quotes from everyone who participated and aided in this Independent Study. My plan is to continue this blog throughout the development of my thesis, so that everyone involved in the blog can observe the projects development and also offer advice, opinions etc. I look at this blog not only as an educational tool but as a another venue to express and share my ideas. I will send out E-Mail alerts for when I have new postings available. E-Mail or post on my blog: ideas for consideration, source material to read, suggestions on books, journals, articles, photographs, precedents, poems, movies, graphics, references for people to talk to… etc. Any and everything you can possibly offer which will help build a conversation and body of work that is loaded with rich commentary. You personal experiences, stories too. All of this can be done via E-Mail or by posting within the Blog, either way all of the commentary will end up being transferred to the blog at some point. I stress that this will not be successful if I do not have your input in whatever fashion it may be, as this is not a project that is about me voicing and sharing my thoughts just to “hear myself speak.” This is more about participation, my goal is to draw you in, keep your interest and to develop my thoughts and knowledge base. PLEASE extend this invitation to anyone you think may be interested in being involved. A lot of you have many connections that may be helpful to me and this project. Remember that this is

not exclusively for architects, this is for anyone. I would absolutely love to be able to get participation from other students and professionals around the state, nation, and world. The internet is a way to connect to everyone around the world simultaneously and to realize the power it has to help with something like this is amazing, so help me as much as you can to spread the word and get people involved. Just have these individuals contact me or use the Follow By E-Mail feature on the right hand side of my Blog. For those of you who are interested in participating thank you very much for helping this project! I hope it is as fruitful as I imagine it will be. I will spend the next day setting up this blog and E-Mail you all again to let you know the web address. Thank you very much for your time!

KATHRYN ANN COOPER Monday, May 16, 2011

My educational path would not be culminating at this road of research without the passing of one of the most important individuals to ever be in my life… the woman who raised raised me and was by my side every step of the way, my Mom. Her unconditional love is forever missed and her untimely death still rattles my soul with pain. This project is a memorial and tribute to her. I want to learn how to celebrate life through the memorial of death through understanding and creating space that allows us to do so.

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posthumous landscape is much different than say a cemetery like Savannah’s famous Bonaventure Cemetery were every tombstone is so different both in scale, detail and design. The L.A. National Cemetery is a banal repetitive landscape where every burial location feels the same, communicating that of the people buried there lack an individual personality. That being said, it is a Veterans Cemetery so the imagery of the landscape is more about a common bond and the shear numbers lost within our military. It is quite a site to drive by the endless landscape seeing the massive amount of repetitive objects, it always strikes your heart and mind in some way, and it’s that reaction that begins my interest in the architecture or landscape of death.

the A R C H I T E C T U R E of D E A T H Tuesday, May 17, 2011 Describe first thing that you think of when you think of the phrase “the architecture of death.”

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For me on one of the first things I think about is the Los Angeles National Cemetery. As a child growing up in L.A. we always drove by this large swath of land along Sepulveda Blvd and I always remember seeing countless white tombstones perfectly aligned creating this monotonous landscape of death iconography. This

COMMENTARY D. Hall May 17, 2011 01:23 PM

What is striking to me about a burial site is that it seems you can take the approach of crafting the object intended to represent a deceased person in a way that physically mirrors the uniqueness and richness of that person’s life and self, like the one in Savannah, or keep the object minimal and evoke the viewer’s faculty of imagination to conceive of not just a name, concept, or abstraction of a person, but instead a full rich life, with layers of experience, memory, and aspiration analogue to one’s own first-person experience. It is often difficult for people to be that mindful of another person, even in life, but especially when they only “meet” that person through an object of rememberance. So what is the best way to encourage someone passing through a burial site to really empathize with a person who once lived? To identify with them? It has been said that Tadao Ando’s minimal architecture acts as a blank canvas onto which people are encouraged to project their own meaning; their own beauty. Is that the appropriate method by which to understand such existential and powerful relationships such as life and death; self and other; internal and external? A gravestone or any form of Architecture of Death is the physical tip of an informational iceberg that encompasses all the memories and perceptions about that deceased person and the very nature of death itself. It is the external impetus to a unique, personal, and introspecctive process for every individual to experience it. Pretty interesting and fulfilling to consider the different forms that impetus may take. Darci C. May 18, 2011 01:26 PM

On Danny’s comment about the “experience” of visiting a grave site, I specifically wanted to mention one I visited in Savannah at Bonaventure Cemetery. Yes, the tone of Bonaventure is very different than that of the one you mentioned in L.A. but the division

of plots and what is there are unique to each person buried there. Specifically, there is a grave of poet, Conrad Aiken. In his plot is a marble bench with the engravings that says “Give my love to the world” and “Cosmos Mariner- Destination Unknown”. According to locals, the bench was meant to be an invitation to visitors to stop and enjoy a martini at his grave. (This was made famous in a scene from the “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”. I think this is unique as it causes an interaction between the visitor in more than just visual manner but also in a contemplative and nontraditional way. Daniel Johnson May 18, 2011 01:45 PM

Danny, I am particularly interested in your mentioning of Tadao Ando’s theory about his architecture. I like this idea of a “blank canvas” for which we project our own meaning on. It is in our human nature to generate meaning for things as it taps into our existential existence. I know he uses very raw materials, mostly concrete which has always been curious to me. I know you have done a lot of research on him, I would like to hear more about your knowledge of why he sticks to one material and such a solid and heavy one at that. Darci, I like your example because it begins to take the idea of a “tombstone” and pushes further into the realm of being less of an object and more of space. Even the narrative begins to give meaning and purpose to this specificity of this space and I feel that something of this nature reflects more about our humanity than say a standardized manufactured tombstone does. D. Hall May 19, 2011 08:02 AM

Daniel, to my understanding, Ando’s material choice is a

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combination of reflecting his own poetic or phenomenological intentions and with the logistics of architectural practice and the benefit of coming to understand a single material very well: how it looks, holds up, how much it costs, etc. Concrete is grounded, heavy, and earthy and part of Ando’s philosophy is integrating his architecture with the site: this alone seems to justify a material that in many ways is an extension of the ground itself. Materially he connects with ground and formally he connects with sky - how the building cuts across the sky. The other side of this is that the concrete is neutral and connotes emptiness. However, the word empty has a very different meaning in Zen: it does not mean vacuum, but rather it must convey a sense of being “pregnant with possibility.” This reflects their whole world-view and is how the simplicity of Zen accounts for the seemingly infinite complexity of what can be. To me, this is Ando’s message.

TERROR THEORY

MANAGEMENT

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Before I begin I want to thank Dr. Jamie Goldenberg from USF’s Department of Psychology. She was so kind to help me out and follow along this summer with my research and she was the source for this post which I am about to write. I ask that you take the time to read through this as I believe it may become a strong underpinning to the psychological layers which the design of my thesis project will be informed by. I promise this post will wrap up with how this theory ties into ideas of architecture and death but we first have to understand what this theory is all about.

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What if when you died you found out God actually existed? What if you came face to face with this force and were allowed to ask one question? One of the cliche questions one would ask would

be “What is the meaning of life?” What if God answered that the meaning of life is to live your life and then die? That would sound empty, meaningless and rather simply biological. For most, if not all of us, we would like to think that our lives have more value than just a simple biological cycle, which is partly why we have religion, to create a world of deeper meaning for our existence and hereafter. From religion we also gain standards of living and laws per se. This system is formed to give our lives meaning, purpose and higher value. But what about those of us that are not religious? They must set different standards to which to base their self-worth and value on. They must inevitably gauge their self-worth against their own cultural values or worldview. Regardless of where the comparative standards are coming from it all boils down to the same idea, the idea of Self-Esteem. Cultural Anthropologist, Ernest Becker, began writing about an idea regarding the basic function of self-esteem over twenty years ago. He built largely upon the theories developed by Soren Kierkegaard, Sigmund Frued and Otto Rank to develop what he calls the Terror Management Theory (TMT). Becker wrote:

Everything cultural is fabricated and given meaning by the mind, a meaning that was not given by physical nature. Culture is in this sense “supernatural,” and all systematizations of culture have in their end the same goal: to raise men above nature to assure them that in some ways their lives count more than merely physical things count. They earn this feeling by carving out a place in nature, by building an edifice that reflects human value: a temple, a cathedral, a totem pole, a skyscraper, a family that spans three generations. The hope and belief is that the things that man creates in society are of lasting worth and meaning, that they outlive or outshine

death and decay, that man and his products count.

Becker states that this social motivation is intrinsically tied to self-esteem. While the nature of self-esteem has several motivational theories attached to it Becker instead asked the fundamental question: “Why do people need self-esteem?” and according to TMT:

Self-esteem functions to shelter people from deeply rooted anxiety inherent in the human condition. Self-esteem is a protective shield designed to control the potential for terror that results from awareness of the horrifying possibility that we humans are merely transient animals groping to survive in a meaningless universe, destined only to die and decay. In a subsequent theoretical and empirical review by Pyszczynski, Solomon, Greenbergm, Ardnt and Schimel titled “Why Do People Need Self-Esteem? A Theoretical and Empirical Review” the discussion on these ideas are placed under the sociological/ psychological microscope and will be the primary source for this post. The article discusses that biologically we have a “rooted desire for life” and with the psychological and social development over our evolution from primate to homo sapien our increased awareness of our mortality in combination with this biological desire for life gave “rise to the potential for paralyzing terror.” Our species “solved” the problem posed by the prospect of existential terror by using the same sophisticated cognitive capacities that gave rise to the awareness of death to create cultural worldviews: humanly constructed shared symbolic conceptions of reality that give meaning, order, and permanence to existence; provide a set of standards for what is valuable; and promise some form of either literal or symbolic immortality to

those who believe in the cultural worldview and live up to its standards of value.

TMT views self-esteem as a cultural construct that is used to evaluate or view oneself within the context of a larger cultural viewpoint while also being “integrated into a unique individualized worldview by each person.” Both faith and self-esteem are “maintained through a process of consensual validation.” Because self-esteem and faith are dependent upon validation and acceptance it becomes defensive in nature due to the fact that when one challenges these conceptions of ones reality it “threatens to undermine this faith and confidence.”

So where does this begin? From birth we are entirely helpless as we cannot care for our own biological needs thus we are dependent upon our parents or caregivers to protect us from threats and to fulfill those basic needs. Without our parents care we would be in a more or less constant state of anxiety and eventually would cease to exist. It is through socialization that we begin to learn acceptable behavior that is reinforced by the subsequent actions of our caregivers. Our anxieties are remedied by our parents response to our good behavior, and that standard of good behavior ultimately reflects “the parents’ internalized version of the prevailing cultural worldview.” This is where “selfesteem acquires its anxiety-buffering properties.” TMT doesn’t deny that there are other benefits explaining the concept of self-esteem. The theory agrees that positive evaluation contributes to a persons overall emotional wellbeing and also doesn’t argue that it can help boost efficacy in regards to overcoming difficult activities, setbacks and failures. However, TMT views these as “ancillary benefits of the protection against core anxiety that self-esteem provides.”

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Of course theories are just thoughts if they are not empirically examined, and TMT has been through over 250 different evaluations that have helped to build upon the ideas which this theory is contingent upon. One of the primary ideas for testing this theory is built upon the hypothesis that by increasing selfesteem one should be “less prone to anxiety when later exposed to threatening material.” This brings us to the idea of mortality salience (MS). Simply put mortality salience is the increased awareness of ones mortality, whether it’s subtle or obvious. MS can manifest itself through imagery of death, proximity to cemeteries or funeral homes, anything that reminds us of our own mortality. TMT has studied and shown empirically that when MS is introduced our self-esteem is compromised and our behaviors, actions and decisions are altered compared to when we are not stimulated by MS. The mortality salience hypothesis states:

The extent that a psychological structure provides protection against fear, reminders of the source of that fear should increase one’s need for that structure. Through many tests researchers have discovered an implication that MS not only increases peoples “efforts to assert their self worth” but that it also leads to “distancing from behaviors or aspects of self which might be damaging to self-esteem.” Now while the cited research experiments are fascinating and I would love to recap them here there just isn’t the time for that and it extends slightly beyond the scope of where we are headed, plus you can always read the article yourself (which I highly recommend!) In the meantime I will simply state the findings from the research.

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High levels of self-esteem lead to lower self-reports of anxiety, physiological arousal, and defensive distortions to deny one’s vulnerability to an early death. Reminders of the central source of this anxiety, the inevitability of death, leads to increased self-esteem striving in the form of (a) increased adherence to the standards inherent in long-standing attitudes, especially when these attitudes have recently been primed; (b) increased discomfort when performing behavior that violates cultural norms; (c) increased identification with one’s physical body among those high in body self-esteem; (d) decreased appearance monitoring among those high in body self-esteem who nonetheless put a high value on physical appearance; (e) increased optimal distinctiveness striving; and (f)increased or decreased affiliation with one’s gender, ethnicity, university, or local sports teams, depending on the implications of such affiliations for self-esteem. High levels of self-esteem have also been shown to eliminate the effect of MS on worldview defense, self-esteem striving, and the accessibility of death-related thoughts. And finally, providing people with convincing evidence for the existence of life after death eliminates the effect of MS on striving for self-esteem. As a side note, the article does go into critically examining other explanations for the function of self-esteem such as ideas that “self-esteem (a) maintains well-being and positive affect; (b) provides feedback about the adequecy of one’s coping efforts; (c) reflects an individual’s status in a dominance hierarchy; (d) facilitates self-determination; and (e) provides people with vital information about their eligibility for social inclusion and exclusion.” You will find that the authors agree with a lot of these ideas but they also provide insight on how these ideas either are flawed and or intrinsically tie back to the core ideas of TMT. There is even an interesting venture into human evolution and

comparison of self-esteem in primates in comparison to humans. This begins at the bottom left on page 452 for those interested!

So what does this all mean for the architecture of death? Well first, one needs to decide if this theory is a stance that one believes in. Lets say for the sake of argument that this is a theory that I adopt. Now what? How does this theory and it’s empirical evidence affect the design of a space or spaces pertaining to death? I think first it is important to discuss how architecture affects our existential realties. Juhani Pallasmaa writes that, The timeless task of architecture is to create embodied existential metaphors that concretize and structure man’s being in the world.

If we look back in history during the time when catholicism was overtaking Europe we can look at how the cathedrals were designed and understand this notion of how those metaphors of god and higher purpose were reinforced through the architectural expression of these structures. If TMT is correct and humanity continually fights against the idea that our lives and deaths are meaningless then it is understandable why a construct as powerful and meaningful as religion was created. It also makes sense that to exaggerate our feelings of these belief systems that we created monumental structures that sored great heights to create powerful spaces which became venues for us to continue to believe in this social construct. These venues helped create internalized spatial drama which would both subconsciously and consciously facilitate a sense of power over us. Whether you are religious or not you would probably be hard pressed to say that when entering a large historical cathedral that you didn’t feel

some sense of spatial power and a sense that there is something larger than you simply due to the comparison of the scale of your body to scale and complexity of the space around you. The idea is that even if the religion has no significance the architecture begins to presence the same feelings at which is at the core of the religion to which the structure was based upon.

What was just described was a way that architecture plays into our self-esteem, through the perspective of TMT, in a positive and reinforcing manner. What about the opposite? What about the idea of mortality salience and its role within TMT? Remember that MS is a trigger which antagonizes our self-esteem. That being said, if it has been shown that physical proximity to a funeral home or a cemetery causes an increased existential defensive response then how would one begin to design spaces of death that could reduce that anxiety and instead have the opposite affect? I suppose one would have to first take a stance on the matter: Do we need to positively affect our self-esteem in regards to the spaces of death or conversely do we need to design these spaces regardless of our existential discomfort? If we take the stance that we need to feed our self-esteem with positivity the bigger question becomes: Is it even possible to design a space for death that doesn’t adversely affect our self-esteem even when we still understand that it is a space of death? Simply put, is it possible to remove the reminder of death? Is it necessary? One interesting thought that comes to my mind about the question I stated above and the study of TMT is the idea of conditioning. I wonder if that throughout all of the studies that have been done if researchers have considered and studied this theory of mortality salience in regards to people who have professions involving death. Professions such as cemetery owners, grave diggers, funeral home owners, morticians, doctors, surgeons etc.

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Would MS induction have the same results on those who may be conditioned to the reality of death?

a life, have a history, a story. It would be interesting to see how one could design these spaces so that we ease the anxiety and message of death and instead turn it into the imagery of life and celebration. D. Hall May 19, 2011 07:46 AM

Given all that terror management theory and mortality salience have provided what are ways we could proceed with contemplating space making in regards to the memorial of death?

Consciousness, death, time, and identity are some of the most powerful, foundational, and highly integrated concepts in our human experience.

There is plenty to ponder and discuss here but one specific question I ask all of you is:

COMMENTARY

Josh May 18, 2011 05:58 PM This reading was very intriguing and brought up quite a few interesting questions and points. The idea of how does one design a space for death and how is it possible to remove the indications of death in a space? Or does death need to be implemented in the space for a reminder to those inhabiting it? Where this could be leading to is the question i hold on the subject: Why does it seem that the architecture of death seems to forget about the architecture of life? For everyone comes not to mourn on the loss of an individual but to celebrate the life they have blessed everyone with. Daniel Johnson May 18, 2011 06:22 PM

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I completely agree! That has absolutely always been one of the intentions with where I envision this project would end up. I would love to design a sequence of spaces that celebrate and communicate ideas of the cycle of life to remind people that the memorials in a “space of death” are not marking a fact that these people have passed on, but more about that these people lived

Einstein has clarified for us the understanding that “time and space are not conditions in which we live, but modes by which we think.” To contemplate that seriously for a few minutes has far reaching and likely unfamiliar implications.

To maintain scientific grounding but without entering the depths of Quantum Mechanics, Field Theory, and other spooky stuff, suffice to say that from a psychological point of view, the conscious experience of a human being is in a highly complex and unique position. We experience a world of “things,” which are separated by gulfs of space and time and interact in relatively predictable ways independent of our interference or observation. However by observing the world through sensitive instruments and describing it mathematically, we see a vastly different picture of the universe that is a single undifferentiated field, which undergoes localized motions and disturbances that eventually manifest (unfairly general explanation in the interest of keeping this short and digestible) as what we observe as energy and matter. Even more mind-boggling is that only the act of conscious observation temporarily actualizes a particle, otherwise it exists in all states of possibility simultaneously. o_0 We have not only seen electrons and photons turn from a particle

into a wave (eh, not too startling, I mean, they’re pretty much energy), but we’ve seen big Carbon-80 buckyballs turn into waves and those things are pretty darn solid.

At the very least this illustrates rather understatedly “things are not what they seem.” And what implications might this have for a person’s psyche? We often do not know what to identify with. Our bodies? Our possessions? Our ideas? Our “mind,” whatever that even is? Some notion of a “soul” to ensure we eliminate MS? Which one more than another? Young children go through a phase where they view their possessions as an extention of their own identity and many never lose this tendency altogether (or even much at all). Many people cling so terribly to their own currently held beliefs because they feel their sense of self is dependent upon the persistence of those beliefs. TMT seems to state just this. Self-esteem, or simply a “sense of self” is a hard thing to pinpoint and this already transient idea is further threatened by the notion that it can be erased in death before one can come to terms with it or even know it at all. A blog about Architecture and Death seems a perfectly appropriate place to ponder the blurring of boundaries between the physical and spiritual, however one wishes to define these words. Could it be that we may go one step further than TMT and say not only that we have a “background awareness” that we are mortal and this produces a drive to do everything in our power to make ourselves believe otherwise, but instead that we have such an awareness that there is some aspect of our conscious identity that is NOT mortal- that is not metaphorically but quite literally entangled with all that exists, can exist, and might exist and it is this awareness placed side-by-side with our own apparent mortality that produces such a terror and anxious obsession with proving our worth and longevity to ourselves..

This would also shed more light on the underpinnings of religion and mystical traditions of ancient cultures. What does existence look like when it is structured both at the level of a parent system (the universe) and also the subsystem formed by the parent system folding back into and intersecting with itself (the world we experience based upon some sensory inputs, recalled memories, and fudging the gaps in between)? The klein bottle is an appropriate visual metaphor

To bring it back to an architectural level, how do you bridge this gap through architecture? How do you encourage people through spatial experience to resonate with the idea that they are living in two places as once? Either a mortal life endowed with the ability to extrapolate immortality through the intellectual tool of monuments (of thought or of building materials) that persist through time; OR, a life that is inherently distanced from cycles that indicate mortality as we have come to understand it, but which participates in and supervenes upon them? Nathan May 19, 2011 01:57 PM

As a TMT researcher (Dr. Goldenberg’s PhD student), I find this all very interesting. To use arhitecture to alleviate mortality concerns most efficiently, a sense of memorial would be crucial I would think. If people feel like they will be valued and remembered after they die, they will be more ok with death. A memorial is obviously huge in this regard. So perhaps the issue is how to make people feel like they will be remembered and valued after the die, through the use of various forms of architecture. Personally, the thought of my gravestone or whatever else just blending in with all of those around me is sort of depressing (like

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those books sitting on the shelf at the USF library no one will ever read). We all want to stand out in some way, even in death (at least in Western cultures), at least stand out to the people we are closest too. I’m not sure how people would take to using mushrooms to decompose their body quicker. This is an interesting empirical question that could be tested. Perhaps this is a place where the architects could merge with the psychologists (this is sort of our thing, though we obviously don’t know anything about architecture). All in all though, yes, this is very interesting.

Daniel Johnson May 21, 2011 09:34 AM Thank you Danny and Nathan for the responses!

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Danny. I thought about what you wrote and it brings up a bigger challenge. Human beings are all so different, yet we have many things that link us and makes us collectively predictable. I think the key is to find those collective bonds and figure out how we tap into them. Even if these bonds have a similar basic nature but a highly sophisticated nuances that differentiate them from one person to another. The relevant example is death. We all know we are not physically immortal. We all understand that if we step out into traffic we are likely to die and not longer physically exist. So I would say that is the base layer of one of these collective understandings. Now as you move up the layers it gets more complex. Religion & Culture begin to play a role in complexing ones understanding of morality. It’s kind of like what you were saying about time and space, our perception of it. How could we through architecture reveal to people the theory of time and space that Einstein described? It goes the same for death. How

do we begin to do reveal the ideas you discussed? How do we tap into a diverse world of people and communicate the same message? It’s like we need architecture, or spatial experience to speak one language to everyone to at least express a common train of thought, but as we know and as Ando allows within his architecture, people will begin to develop their own meaning and understanding of something. So again we are back at how can we as designers, tap into the diverse human mind, and help guide ideas through constructed space? Nathan, I am very excited that another member of the psychologyworld has entered this area, I hope you continue to follow along and add any thoughts you may have! Invite more as well! I agree that the feeling of a memorial is necessary but I may argue that a tombstone, urn or other form of interment is already a type of memorial. The definition of memorial is “serving to preserve remembrance” and I think that our spaces of death already are that, but I think the problem is, as you have pointed out is that our solution is currently a “depressing” one. A sea of similar tombstones is what we have to look forward to. The image of our bones buried beneath the surface with a stern, solid stone marking in the ground where we rest... it’s very creepy and grim. No one wants to be buried alive so why do we want to be buried dead? That may be a stretch... haha “We all want to stand out in some way”... I would agree with that. We spend out whole lives trying to define ourselves and make our mark within our communities, families, etc yet at the end of life all of that boils down to is a sculpted stone with some canonical information and perhaps a quote that captures who we are. We need to lighten up and personalize our memorials more. But how? That is part of what I need to think about, and what hopefully we can brainstorm to solve.

Take a look at my post titled “The Architecture of Death?” There are some interesting comments too. I would love to know your image of this and also your thoughts on the existing commentary. Again, thank you for taking the time to be involved! Marta Jones Jun 24, 2011 04:17 PM

When I was majoring in anthropology, I took a Magic & Religion class. One of the theories put forth by anthropologists is that magic and/or religion are used to grant some type of control over sickness, crop failure, death etc.. In other words, those things in life over which we have no control.

To me, cemeteries are very much evidence of a continued need to deal with the discomfort, and I daresay at times, “terror”, born out of death. Whether that’s “dying”, loss/grief, or what the hell exactly happens when we die. I think this crosses boundaries of religion as well as to secular beliefs.

the I N F I N I T Y B U R I A L P R O J E C T Monday, May 18, 2011

One of the biggest buzz-words in todays culture is the word “green” or “eco.” It seems like everything being produced nowadays is coming with the label “eco-friendly.” My friend and colleague, Kuebler Perry, provided me with a link to read about a new ecological solution to the burial process, The Infinity Burial Project.

The Infinity Burial Project proposes alternatives for the postmortem body that promote and facilitate an individual engagement with the process of decomposition. The Project features the development of a unique strain of mushroom that decomposes and remediates toxins in human tissue, the development of a decomposition ‘kit’, burial suits embedded with decomposition activators, and a membership society devoted to the promotion of death awareness and acceptance and the practice of decompiculture (the cultivation of decomposing organisms). Visual artist, designer and researcher, Jae Rhim Lee, is currently developing this ecological system for burial. She is developing a three-part system that aids in the ecological decomposition of the human body postmortem 1. The Infinity Mushroom

“A unique strain(s) of fungi that will be trained to decompose bodies and remediate the industrial toxins in bodies.” 2. Decompiculture Kit

“A mixture of flora and fauna and odors associated with corpse decomposition and toxin remediation. The Kit will be incorporated into various objects such as makeup, non-toxic embalming fluids.” 3. Burial Suit

“A body suit embroidered with thread infused with mushroom spores. The embroidery pattern resembles the dendritic growth of mushroom mycelium.”

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Most people I know who have elected to be cremated after death say that one of the main reasons they are deterred from burial is the thought of the decomposition of our bodies, with imagery of maggots and such eating our flesh. I am not sure if this solution would be any better to those who have such a negative outlook on the biology of decomposition, but at least there is now a potential for another, more eco-friendly option for those who do want to be buried.

Burial costs can range from a several thousand dollars to over ten thousand dollars, and the materials and energy used to create the casket are not exactly a sustainable solution. Lee’s system at least begins to comment on this issue by providing and alternative approach. What do you think about the Infinity Burial System?

COMMENTARY BlueDog Jun 1, 2011 03:01 PM Icky.. The ground is wet and buggy.. Here’s my blurt....

Rooted in basic sciences, the idea of helping the natural process is synergistic and thoughtful of sustainability for future generations. Couple thoughts come to mind.....

Am I going to make a difference? Will I join my family and friend in afterlife using this unconventional burial? Man Dominates and manipulates nature everywhere... Yet, I am to lay in dirt? Beliefs have functional component? Most do. What do my family say? What have I been taught spiritually? What have I witnessed the process of death and burial to be like, and what are my expectations? Earthly processes suggestive of how I should go? Am I going to make a difference? Will I join my family and friend in afterlife using this unconventional burial? Gotta start with the basics.. What is culture? What drives culture? Why do I feel the way I do? Fair to say.. Believers believe that there is more at work than what is real to the tangible world. Difficult to argue ecological responsibility with faith based belief.

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Despite whatever perceived “mysticism” exists with any given ritual, I’ll argue that functional mechanisms that directly/

indirectly serve a societal purpose are almost always involved. The conventional approach of coffin burial is sanitary and placed the dead outside of the path of the living, so it has function.

Although possibly an oversimplification, it is neat in this perspective, to feel that there are not as many differences between the people, as much as the difference of demands for the basics of everyday life, and how we are not all so different. After all, we all see the sun rise and set, we all witness and adapt to earthly demands. Culture, like art is our way of managing and interpreting the objective world. Many of our customs have excess for the sake of aesthetic function, articulating along the way in a non-static state. Burial preparation, tradition, and ceremony, stem from tradition deeply rooted by, but not limited to, familial, spiritual, and psychological, processes manifested innumerably.

Forcing one to examine a practice, especially an emotional one, requires that the person somehow break through deep life-right expectations of death and tradition, to evaluate a pragmatic approach. Can we look past our expectations and do what might be more ecologically responsible. We do in some cases. How about in death and commemoration? Oneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cultural view has been described as the the societal glasses that you are given to you see the world around you. Language strongly effects the cognitive and conceptual development of the the mind as well. The list could go on and on.

How do we remove these lenses that tend to shape our view? Can we really ever escape and examine any given stimuli in a more objective viewpoint? How do you take out the salt already added

to the soup? Is it always relative? What motivates us and when we remove attempt to achieve objectivity/relativity is the next question. At times, we get rational and make sacrifices for the future. If we could all be objective beings, living and acting only as efficient and rationale beings, weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d do what is most sustainable for the living. Culture highlights the unnecessary and the superfluous as well as the pragmatic and functional. Within these articulations are billions of individual expressions of life. Rarely are they rational. lol Very interesting to tug at the strings of expectation.

I like the idea, but will just try to recycle and maybe buy a hybrid in the meantime... :) Merk Waston Jun 24, 2011 12:44 PM Humans are never at a loss for interesting things to honor their their dead. Even the Neanderthals buried their buddies with flowers. But if you dig a little, you can depart with some serious hoopla. You can have yourself shot from a cannon like Hunter S. Thompson. Shot into space like Timothy Leary. Have your remains turned into an ocean reef. Or a Diamond. Or 240 pencils. Or fireworks. Or biodegradable brown goo. Or a tasteful ash-portrait. Or be buried and have old movies projected on your gravestone. You can go a more traditional route too. In the funerary tradition of Famadihana, in Madagascar, family members dig up their dead and dance around with them. (I have often said I was born to dance at weddings, but never thought I would dance at my own

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funeral.) Then young married couples take a piece of the shroud and put it under the mattress to help with fertility. Or take the Mayan route and bury your family under the floorboards. Or go with the preference of the Bo people of China, who hang their coffins from cliffs. If Tibetan Sky Burial is your thing, your corpse will be vivisected and placed on a mountain top to be scattered by birds and the elements. You can roll death and burial into one ball of wax by choosing mummification as the actual method of dying, as some Buddhist Monks chose to do, once upon a time. Feng Shui says don’t point the foot of the bed at the door, because that is how you would orient a coffin at a funeral. 19th Century Americans would agree, which is why coffins are carried out the door feet first thus preventing the dead from looking back and taking us all with them. Gone is the tradition of turning family photographs upside down, but some still cover mirrors to keep those departing souls from becoming trapped, and burial plots are still oriented east-west to face the judgement of the rising sun. If you are a modern architect, however, why second guess a good thing? Just have your ashes scattered at Gunnar Asplund’s Woodland Cemetery. You will be among your peers, and you can pass with the knowledge that you have participated in the eco-burial fad made so popular in Sweden. Perhaps, if you visit there before you die, you will find Beowolf buried in a mound at Skalunda hög. Before your beloved scatters your ashes though, make sure she puts a bit of you in a glass of wine, and *cheers* down the hatch, as Queen Artemisia of Caria was supposed to have done with her lover.

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Funerary cannibalism, once considered a myth propagated by colonialism, has recently become accepted as a tasty truth. Should you choose to go that way, you would be joined by the historic Pueblo Indians who are supposed to have eaten the

hearts of their loved ones. The Wari of the Amazon honored their defeated enemies but also deceased family by dining on their remains. Don’t forget the famous case of the Fore of Papua New Guinea who were fond of dining on their dead, most especially the brains when softened by Kuru, a disease transmitted, unsurprisingly, by eating infected neural tissue. This delicious fact is well documented, and was practiced right up until it was declared illegal in the fifties. Silly if you think about it; It doesn’t strike me as unreasonable to look into the eyes of your loved one, and say, with humble sincerity, “I love you so much that when you are dead, I will eat your brains.” Links will follow by email just so you know I am not making any of this up.

I M A G E S of the L A N D S C A P E of D E A T H

Saturday, May 21, 2011 Below are images of various environments which our deceased loves one are “memorialized.” I ask you to sit through these familiar images and think write about how they make you feel. What do you feel when you see these images? What do these images make you feel about your life? Your death? How do you feel about the fact that these images depict your possible future? Your final home. Your final space. Below are images of various environments which our deceased loves one are “memorialized.” I ask you to sit through these familiar images and think write about how they make you feel. What do you feel when you see these images? What do these images make you feel about your life? Your death? How do you

feel about the fact that these images depict your possible future? Your final home. Your final space.

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remembers one’s perseverance.” - Yoko Ono

“And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with the serenity through the winters of your grief.” - Kahlil Gibran

BIRTH, LIFE, MATURITY, DEATH Saturday, May 21, 2011 The topic of death is obviously heavy, probing and uncomfortable so I thought I would try to introduce a different take on the topic, one which we can all agree is graceful, beautiful and poetic. I leave you with two quotes and an image I compiled and composed. Think about these and write about what thought’s come to mind, not only about life and death in general, but what implications this has for the architecture of the memorial of life. “Spring passes and one remembers one’s innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one’s exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one’sreverence. Winter passes and one

the B I O S U R N

Friday, June 3, 2011

Off of the heals of the post about the The Infinity Burial Project comes yet another ecological solution for your remains, The Bios Urn, by Spanish designer Martin Azua.

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Martin has designed a biodegradable composite tapered urn made of coconut shell, compacted peat, and cellulose. The inside contains the seeds of a tree, or whatever plant you chose to “become.” Once your ashes have been placed inside it is ready to be planted and the plant can grow.

Personally I think this is an amazingly simple idea. Think about it... people often “spread” ashes of loved ones outside... well this is another solution to that, and you still have a natural marker of where your ashes were placed. This solution is not only ecological but poetic and naturally beautiful. Instead of having a cold, stern, creepy tombstone mark your death you have a beautiful healthy, tree. Relatives can come to the tree and carve initials in it, do various things to further personalize it if need be. Also think about a cemetery that is simple a large forest... This gives me some ideas... I have been wanting to incorporate a garden into this project... this could be the ticket. I would absolutely be up for something like this. The only cost would be the purchase of the receptacle and the cost of your cremation. I would even venture to say that the ecological impact of your tree cancels out the damage that the cremation caused on the environment.

E M B O D I E D I M A G E S and LIVED METAPHORS Friday, June 3, 2011

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Juhani Pallasmaa is a Finnish architectural theorist who has written many books on his theory of architecture. His views on

architecture are deeply rooted in existentialism. He very recently published a book called “The Embodied Image: Imagination and Imagery in Architecture” which I just finished reading. This book basically is an examination on architecture and the arts and how they are important extensions of our existential situations. I will choose to focus on the main content of this book, the idea of embodied images and lived metaphors.

The end goal of what I hope to achieve with this research is an architecture that is meaningful, because the world is filled with too many strip malls, six lane highways, and uninspired trash. Architecture is so much more than that and I feel that our profession has lost a lot of the fundamental ethics that are ingrained in what we do. Pallasmaa say’s it well when he states that today’s architecture typically has no concern for “other sensory realms” and this “may be the very reason why these buildings usually appear so mute, rejecting and lifeless.” He points out that, “We do not just see, hear, touch, smell and taste the world as outside observers, we exist and live in its very intestines. A building is not just a physical structure, as it is also a mental space which structures and articulates our experiences. Meaningful architecture houses us as fully sensing and conscious beings, not as creatures of mere vision.”

To me a typical grocery store evokes no sense of mental space, neither does a bank, or the DMV, but perhaps if these functions were contained within architecture that was inspired, thoughtful and meaningful they may be that much more pleasant to endure. Okay, the DMV may be a stretch... The point is, it boils down to the ‘image’ of the architecture. Now,

what do I mean by ‘image’? The word image typically refers to “a mental picture or impression of something” but what Pallasmaa is referring to when he discusses ‘image’ is a far deeper concept:

Differing from the usual understanding of the word, the poetic image refers to an evocative, affective and meaningful sensory experience that is layered associative and dynamic, and in constant interaction with memory and desire. With this passage he begins to reference his idea that the material world around us needs to resonate within our existential realities, that architecture should activate our senses and tap into our desires. He continues this idea by explaining that,

The poetic image takes us to the moment of the first innocent, but immensely potent encounter. A profound piece of architecture is always novel and unexpected, no matter how many times one revisits it, as it lives and reflects life itself. Timeless freshness, a kind of untouchable newness, is a quality of the greatest of artistic images, including those of architecture. It is this type of architecture that we should aim to achieve. We should be creating places and spaces that inspire us to return to them, not because of how amazing they look but because of how they makes us feel, how they stimulate our lives and activate our existence. Pallasmaa quotes Sinclair Gauldie to further drive home this point:

The building which, long after the fashionable idioms of its time have degenerated into clichés, still continues to contribute some memorable quality to human life, is the building which

draws its communicative force from the unchanging emotional associations in the architectural language, those which are most deeply rooted in the common sensory experience of humanity.

So, how do we begin to create this type of meaningful architecture? Pallasmaa states that is all boils down to existential metaphors. One of my favorite professors at school always says to his students: “Who wants to live in a metaphor?” I think one of the fundamental problems with taking a metaphor and constructing it into a spatial abstraction is simply that we don’t understand what an architectural metaphor actually is. An architectural metaphor is not being inspired by a leaf and then constructing a building that resembles the idea of that inspiration, Pallasmaa would call that artificial and representational. Before one can begin to understand and construct a space that is a metaphor one has to understand that ‘images’ have a dual existence in a reality and an unreality.

All artistic images simultaneously take place in two realities and their suggestive power derives from this very tension between the real and the suggested, the perceived and the imagined. In the act of experiencing a work, the artistic image shifts from the physical and material experience into a mental and imaginary reality. He also explains that these images cannot be projected onto someone, they must be felt and interpreted in a much deeper way.

We do not initially project the story on the image, it is the image that reveals its narrative to us. The image does not need to be explained, either it opens its secrets to us, or it does not.

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What he begins to explain is that architectural metaphors are not something that can be necessarily constructed for us but that they instead come from a relationship of the building to a deep place within our human condition. Architecture articulates the encounter of the world and the human mind. It structures the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;flesh of the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; through spatial and material images that articulate and give meaning to our basic human existential situations. An architectural metaphor is a highly abstracted and condensed experiential entity, which fuses the multiplicity of human experiences into a singular lived image, or a sequence of such images. He continues...

Architectural images are related to specific acts and, consequently, buildings are always essentially invitations and verbs. The architectural images that can move our emotions are grounded in our unconscious reactions and biological historicity. and finally states that, Architectural structures are simultaneously utilitarian constructions for specific purposes, and spatial and material images of our being-in-the-world. They are lived metaphors, that mediate between the world and the human realm of life, immensity and intimacy, past and present. In order to give structure and meaning to our existential experience, the art of architecture projects externalized mental structures and images which we occupy and live in. [...] Architectural metaphors are grounded in the very faculties of our being-in-the-world, and they are grasped by our existential and embodied sense rather than the intellect.

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The most important thing to understand about all of this is that an architectural metaphor is not a visual representation, it something that is felt deep within us. It manifests itself through our physical bodies and in turn activates our bodily imagination. Pallasmaa says it best: As a mode of cognition, metaphor is doubly embodied; first as an unconscious neural process, and, accordingly, in that metaphors are generated from bodily feelings, so that it is possible to speak of corporeal imagination.

Architecture needs to tap into our history, culture, biological needs and desires in order for it to generate a meaningful connection. It begs to resonate with who we were, who we are and who we will be. It is evident that a deep architectural experience cannot arise from an intellectualized concept, abstract formal idea, compositional refinement or a fabricated visual form. A moving and invigorating architectural experience arises from the reactivation of images concealed in our historicity as biological and cultural beings.

All that being said, I will leave you with this... Death is the biological terminus of life, if you believe in some spiritual existence beyond death then death for you is not just this biological end. Regardless of your view point we all have to deal with the deaths of others in our lives. These events, while inevitable, are always shocking, painful and challenging to overcome. There are so many stressors in the world that assist in making these types of emotional traumaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s more challenging to death with, and the quality of our constructed environment is one of them, especially in our western culture. I believe that once I dive into studying various cultures and how they deal with death I will discover that those cultures that deal with it

better have a richer architectural environment that resonates within their cultural histories. Architects need to understand how important it is to investigate the world around them, not just physically and superficially but existentially. Architects need to be able to channel this understanding into their work so that it connects and lasts within the place and culture for which it is built in relationship to.

If I am to design a meaningful piece of architecture that will do all that has been stated above, I need to understand the human condition in regards to death. I need to establish the crosscultural bond we all share in regards to death and dissect the ‘image’ of it in order to figure out how to begin to reinterpret how we approach designing these spaces in the hopes of changing our perspective of them.

“The interior gives the impression of a mythological cave that is a battleground between darkness and light. The cast concrete surface mirrors its wooden formwork that has been burned away.” This is one of my favorite recent buildings. It is a small chapel designed by Peter Zumthor. This piece of architecture is so expressive of its religious content through it’s articulation of light and of its construction, through the texture of the concrete. It is a complete narrative of the a cultural construction and a story of religious beliefs. I hope these help. Thoughts?

Before I close out this post I will reference some images that were discussed in the book, and perhaps these visuals will help further explain the idea of embodied images & lived metaphors. This is “an embodied image that directly addresses our muscular and skeletal system” as we immediately have a connection to it, an understanding of it. Without even engaging with it our body reacts and our imaginations transform and we become existentially connected to this scene. “This extremely simple configuration of 15 stones on a rectangle of raked sand is turned into imaginary landscapes of monumental scale by our imagination.” Just by looking at this our bodies can feel the sand between our toes, our bodies react to the understanding that this a is serene creation that should not be interrupted. Our mind wanders and imagines mountain-like follies in a desert landscape. It silences is us while awakening our senses and imaginations.

“This extremely simple configuration of 15 stones on a rectangle of raked sand is turned into imaginary landscapes of monumental scale by our imagination.” Just by looking at this our bodies can feel the sand between our toes, our bodies react to

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the understanding that this a is serene creation that should not be interrupted. Our mind wanders and imagines mountain-like follies in a desert landscape. It silences is us while awakening our senses and imaginations.

This is “an embodied image that directly addresses our muscular and skeletal system” as we immediately have a connection to it, an understanding of it. Without even engaging with it our body reacts and our imaginations transform and we become existentially connected to this scene.

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light and of its construction, through the texture of the concrete. It is a complete narrative of the a cultural construction and a story of religious beliefs.

MERRY CEMETERY, SAPANTA, ROMANIA Saturday, June 4, 2011

First off I would like to thank Marta Jones for bringing this cemetery to my attention as it is one of the most unique and interesting versions of a cemetery that I have ever come across This is Merry Cemetery located in Sapanta, Romania which is in the northern part of the country right next to the Ukraine border. It is quite immediately obvious what makes Merry Cemetery so special, it is colorful, bright, beautiful and lighthearted. This cemetery is home to about 600 wooden crosses that each have their own concrete plinth they stand on that also doubles as a miniature garden. The interesting thing about these wooden crosses are the epitaphs that are on them. Each wooden cross has a naive depiction of the person who lays below, and these images are sometimes very honest about the people they are depicting. I read about one that is an image of a person getting run over by a truck! The epitaphs written about these people can range from descriptions about their accomplishments to poems about their character or lives. The prior Dacian culture established this cemetery with the philosophy that death is a moment filled with joy and anticipation, not sorrow and lamentation. It was this outlook on death that made this cemetery so bright and rather fun.

Whether it’s all of the bright colors, the overly ornate wooden crosses, the childish cartoons, the playful epitaphs, or the personalized gardens, this cemetery exudes happiness. For some reason it reminds me of the Disney ride “it’s a small world” hahahaha. Seriously though, this is an amazing example of how a culture has turned the idea of death into an image that isn’t scary, heavy or bleak, it’s turned into something rather joyous. There is a sense of personalization and cultural effort to carve out a spot just for you, telling your story and celebrating it.

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COMMENTARY Marta Jones Jun 24, 2011 03:44 PM I really like your take on the Merry Cemetery; it truly is a cultural gem.

N O W W H A T?

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

I wanted to post a short update while you anxiously wait for new material. I have recently collected a vast number of source material which I need to sift through, and that seems like it’s going to be quite the task. I also recently have been going through a dilemma of where to direct this blog. Being the very organized person I am I feel like I am just randomly exploring without any real direct intention other than to learn something interesting underneath the general topic of death and architecture. I don’t think that is a bad thing at all, in fact I suppose part of the reason I have ventured into this summer exploration is to give myself some time to find some very interesting platforms to spring from when the Fall hits as I don’t want to be fumbling around for weeks trying to figure out “where to begin.” The discovery of “Terror Management Theory” was fantastic and an immediate result of reaching out to other academics and professionals for advice (Thanks again Dr. Goldenberg!). I suppose my goal ultimate goal this summer is to establish my own perspective/position regarding the architecture of death within three categories:

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1. Psychologically 2. Anthropologically

3. Architecturally

I placed Architecture last for a reason as I believe that by developing a psychological and anthropological perspective I should be armed with the depth to begin to express these concepts/ideas architecturally. As stated before, I’m pretty attached to this idea of TMT so I believe that category has been established, so now I am looking into the anthropology of death trying to find a concept that resonates within me. I would like to briefly and very generally examine a myriad of past/present cultures and religions using the same parameters: 1. Basic beliefs regarding death 2. Their rituals/ceremonies 3. The death related typologies/archetypes they institute

I believe that the typology/archetype could be subdivided into more specific categories such as: A. Type (i.e. graveyard, columbarium, ossuary, mausoleum etc.) B. Location C. Materiality (i.e. stone, wood, metal, composite etc.) D. Character (i.e. engravings, markings etc.) E. Morphology

I think studying many cultures systematically like this will allow me to discover a general history of how we as a species have architecturally approached matters of death. As Dr. Carl Sagan once said, “you have to know the past to understand the present.” I’m hoping that concept will allow me to design poetically for the future. I will begin to examine the 6 majorly inhabited continents

isolating 3-5 different cultures each. That should get me anywhere between 24 and 30 different cultures total, plenty sufficient. So, does anyone have any suggestions for cultures to look into?

Sorry for the random thoughts tonight... I just needed to sort them out a bit! And P.S. A big thank you to Dana Nielsen and Marta Jones, your recent help has been phenomenal! By the way, while I am conducting this anthropological study I will also be posting some more or less random topics as usual, Dana as especially inspired some of these topics! Oh and donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t forget to comment! Many posts still need a lot of responses! COMMENTARY

Anonymous Jun 30, 2011 10:26 AM Daniel,

A few random musings on some culture options that may be of interest when cross-referenced with your criteria:

Pacific Northwest Tribes, perhaps the Haida in particular - they would affix the pummeled bodies of their elders in wooden boxes atop their totems to ensure that they watched over them

Mongolians - I read somewhere that Mongolians lay out bodies, surround it with stones that remain on the landscape as a reminder of that person, and allow the wild animals to consume the body.

Having grown up in the Mid-west, the burial mound builders such as the Hopewell Native American tribes might be interesting, though I must admit that I do not know much about them

Lastly, check out the Toraja tribe of Indonesia. Not only do they keep the dead underneath their house for weeks before burial, but they carve life-sized, wooden effigies of the deceased for display on this cliff overlooking the village. Some are buried in caves while others are placed in rustic looking wooden caskets hung on the side of the cliff. I think they also have a child-specific burial area located in a certain type of tree or something. If you feel so inclined, you may also want to work in reverse, utilizing studies of funerary architecture that investigate what societal actions and values resulted in the architecture. Though it may be of little help, to this end I found this book whcih could be a starting point: Space of Death: Study of Funerary Architecture, Decoration and Urbanism Cheers, Nate

L I N E A R I T Y , P A T H and P E R I P H E R Y Tuesday, June 28, 2011 Personally, I view life as a linear progression from Point A (birth) to Point B (death), the in-between is what we refer to as life, and it is a place where many different things can happen. The two undeniable facts are A and B, the fact that we are born and that we die, those are the things that are concrete. The in-between is

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truly the interesting part as it is unpredictable and abundantly full of variables. It is these variables that defines our path’s and either speeds up our journey to B or slows it down. Death is always in front of us, it is always in the foreground as a destination that we will eventually arrive at, our ticket was purchased the day we were born. This fact is sometimes often difficult to deal with psychologically, and if you remember the ideas surrounding Terror Management Theory it states that we often construct ways to cope or protect ourselves from our inevitable mortality. Along our path from A to B we may generate what I call “periphery distractions” that soften and sooth our movement towards death. These periphery distractions are the relationships we form between people, objects, places, ideas and convictions. This idea of linearity, path and periphery have sat with me for a long time since the genesis of my thesis interest. I am writing about this now because I believe these ideas could become primary conceptual drivers within my thesis. I will return to this topic later on next Fall, but I wanted to at least touch on it briefly now. Following are a few images I found (and edited) that begin to express the ideas of linearity, path and periphery. Feel free to comment or share thoughts.

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` the C O M M O N T H R E A D Saturday, July 16, 2011 For the past couple of weeks I have been searching for the crosscultural common thread in regards to attitudes or approaches towards death. To do this I researched several cultures around the world whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s funerary practices were unique in contrast to more common western practices. After reviewing the copious amounts of information I was able to dig up I was slightly overwhelmed with what to do with it all. There is simply too much information to review and share here so I ultimately have decided that I will allow this post to simply be a conclusion to my discoveries rather than a complete write up discussing all of these different cultural practices. That being said, I do plan on discussing at least two of these cultures in depth in future posts for the interest in sharing what I have learned. For reference, I studied the following cultures located in the following places:(ancient) Egypt, (ancient) Rome, Indonesia (3 different customs), Tibet, China, Taiwan, Madagascar, Nepal, The United States, Germany, Australia, Mexico, Guatemala, Central America (Maya), South America (Inca) and South Korea.

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Anthropologists and Archeologists have discovered that our earliest ancestors used to ritualistically deal with their dead. They know this because some of the earliest graves we have discovered have shown signs of ritual behavior through the placement of remains and the presence of objects placed along with them. This discovery indicates that even before the creation of organized religion, there was some natural psychological

force that motivated our species to act in certain way in the event of death. As time has passed these asomatous or spiritual motivations developed and became more and more sophisticated as we culturally and intellectually evolved. In order to organize and rationalize the intangible aspects of our existence we developed many highly complex systems of beliefs that began to define us as a cultural species. These beliefs physically manifested themselves through customs that were acted out continuously. Primarily these belief systems and customs came to existence as a response to confronting the reality of our mortality, and this fact echoes the ideology behind Terror Management Theory. Many cultures developed very different ways of ritually dealing with death but what one of the unifying elements among these contrasting practices is the fact that these practices were physical responses to death. These responses not only provided a solution to the presence of a corpse but they also helped maintain community order and most importantly they reinforced the belief system from which they were born. In regards to death the physical dealing with the body is a reflection of a cultural sensibility--in other words you cannot separate the tangible from the intangible, as they inform one another and give them purpose.

For example... Environmental and spiritual factors affect the way that Tibetan Buddhists handle their dead. Spiritually speaking, Buddhists believe in reincarnation which means that after death occurs the spirit or energy of the body is transferred into another form, thus rendering the prior body useless. This empty decaying vessel simply just needs to be discarded. Because of Tibetâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s mountainous terrain and the scarcity of lumber cremation is not a viable or economically feasible solution. This harsh environment also makes burial rather difficult due to the

solidity of the landscape, so the Buddhists looked to the sky for aid in this dilemma. Instead of burial or cremation the body is taken to a high point on a mountain, lain naked, cut with a knife and then left for the vultures to consume. When the vultures have departed (usually only leaving the bones behind) they are broken and ground down, mixed with barley flour and yak butter or milk and then fed to hawks or cows. This whole process may seem violent to most westerners but this public practice is a way to teach and remind others within the community of the impermanence of life. Also, it is an important Buddhist ideal to protect and sustain life and by allowing the animals to sustain their lives by consuming the now useless body it is considered an act of generosity towards these living beings. Of course this is only one example of how culture informs physical decision making in regards to posthumous practices. Going into this cross-cultural research I already had an idea of what I was going to find, and I think that is because as human beings we all can relate to the reality of death as it is something we all have in common. Even though this topic is taboo it is something that we contemplate, sometimes heavily. We form decisions about what we would like to occur in the event of our deaths both in regards to our remains and ceremonial considerations. We engage in religious practices to add depth, structure and comfort in our lives and towards our attitudes on death. It is a natural topic that weaves in and out of our minds throughout our lives, and as we get older these thoughts tend to become more tangible and important to us. Because this is such a common stream of thought I found that the answer I was looking for, the common thread, I had known all along. Human decency is what unifies all cultural thanatological practices. It is not religion, nor the belief in an afterlife that

connects us all to how we respond to death, though they can and do play an important role in the specificity of our actions. We ritually deal with our dead in order to respect the lives they lived, tohonor what is left and to gain some sense of closure, not only for the dead, but also for the living. It is these fundamental principles that drive our b basic actions regarding death. These themes were the genesis to the complex, nuanced, and specific practices that developed throughout the many generations of our species. We value life and hold it in high regard as we fight to protect it constantly. To treat a death as something less valuable than the life that preceded it would be outside of our nature. Even when we think of ourselves dying we do not imagine or desire that our body is just left in place, we expect that someone, anyone, will take care of us and respectfully honor our physical remaining existence. We call this human decency and it is what begins to define us as a species.

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Temple, both revolving around the god Shiva (the destroyer). The narrative of these myths are actually not necessarily important in this case, but rather the significance rests upon Shiva historically taking a liking to this area and a piece of him being left behind here which makes this temple the most sacred Hindu temple of Lord Shiva in the world. It is so sacred in-fact that only Hindu’s are allowed to enter the temple, while tourists, spectators and non-Hindu’s can only view the temple from the opposite bank of the holy Bagmati river.

It is important to understand a few key things about Buddhism, Shiva and theBagmati river to understand why the the Pashupatinath Temple is such an important and sacred place in regards to death...

OPEN AIR CREMATION, PASHUPATINATH TEMPLE Sunday, July 17, 2011 Today I would like to share with you a practice I discovered while watching the National Geographic documentary series “Taboo.” The episode I watched discussed the buddhist open air cremations that occur on a daily basis in Kathmandu, Nepal at the Pashupatinath Temple.

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To begin we need to discuss the myth that surrounds the area where the temple resides... There are two common myths surrounding the spiritual importance of the Pashupatinath

One of the primary belief systems in Buddhism is the belief in Karma and it’s relationship to Reincarnation. Karma is based upon ones actions, thoughts and words which will ultimately affect what they will be reincarnated as in the next life. For example, those who generated a high level of good Karma throughout their life are most likely to be reincarnated as a human, whereas those who generate a high level of bad Karma are likely to be reincarnated as a snail or some other nonintelligent life form. Once one dies the body which their spirit inhabited becomes an empty vessel which evil spirits can invade and corrupt. In order to prevent these evil spirits from entering the body it is important to destroy the body as soon after death as possible. Fire is believed to be one of the most effective ways of destroying the body and one of the ultimate truths for it which is why cremation is a very common practice among Buddhists. Lord Shiva is known as the “destroyer of the world” but this destruction does not have a negative connotation, it is actually

a positive type of destruction. Shiva is responsible for change both in the form of death and destruction and in the positive sense of destroying the ego, the false identification with the form. This also includes the shedding of old habits and attachments. Destruction opens the path for a new creation of the universe, a new opportunity for the beauty and drama of universal illusion to unfold. Since death is the ultimate boundary and the threshold for transformation Shiva is an important deity for death. The presence of Shiva both purifies and helps transform the soul from one existence to the next.

The Bagmati river is a holy river that springs from Shivapuri Hill in the Kathmandu valley and terminates in the Kosi river in India. It is considered a holy river that can purify the soul which is why many bathe in it, and more importantly why it plays an important role during the cremation process.

As stated before reincarnation, Lord Shiva and the Bagmati river play a pivotal role in understanding the sacred importance of the Pashupatinath Temple and the customs that occur here. One of the most famous customs that transpire here are the sacred open-air cremations that take place on a daily basis along the banks of the river. These cremations occur during both the day time and night time and are one of the most interesting customs that tourists come to witness year round.

Typically when a Buddhist dies or is on their death bed they are immediately brought to the Pashupatinath Temple to be as close to this holy site as possible. Upon death the process of the cremation takes place within minutes or hours. The family gathers to witness the process with the males usually playing a

direct role in it, specifically the first born son (if there is one). The body is usually covered in a shroud, adorned with flowers and money and taken down to the edge of the river. The body most be dipped three times in the river to purify it and then in can be taken to the pyre platforms which look over the river only a few steps away. The body is placed on a stacked wood pyre and then covered with more wood. The first born son has the responsibility to light the fire, and it is important that the fire begins on the mouth of the deceased as it is believed that, that is how evil enters the empty vessel of the body. The rest of the process is just a matter of time. The family and the public watches as the tissues of the body dry up and the fluids are slowly expelled. As you can imagine the experience of witnessing these cremations is multi-sensory to say the least. Once a few hours has passed the body is typically sufficiently cremated. The first born son must take a piece of the charred body (called the astu) and place it in the river. The caretaker then sweeps the remains into the holy river so that the soul is freed from the physical world. It is then customary that the son either bathe in the river or sprinkle water from it onto his own body to purify his own soul. As stated in the prior post, structured belief systems heavily sculpt funerary practices and these Nepalese Buddhists greatly demonstrate that fact. The whole reason for cremation, the location and the actions performed all come from a system belief and understanding. Culture is so important in shaping our relationship to death. For the Nepalese it is right out in the open for everyone to witness and experience. The smells, sounds, sights, tastes, and even tactile nature of death is ingrained into their daily lives. The temporal nature of death exists here as soot on the materials that compose the space where these sacred and important acts take place. The tradition is passed down and taken seriously with respect no matter how modern the world

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becomes.

Modern architecture today is often a confusing homogeneous mess which lacks distinct cultural identification materially, spatially and tectonically. Spaces of death typically are unaffected by this modern blunder and they maintain a sense of cultural perspective. There is a strong sense of tradition that seems to be sacred to us all in the design of death. It is so important that architecture continues to reflect the historical, cultural and current perspectives that it represents or it begins to become sterilized and washed clean of itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s temporal qualities which is germane to the culture at which it belongs. This has been particularly successful at places like the Pashupatinath Temple as it has been able to maintain itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cultural identity and continues to sing its history through its physical existence. Below are photographs of the cremations at the Pashupatinath Temple. I have also included a link to an abridged version of the documentary on this special place.

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PERE LACHAISE CEMETERY, PARIS, FRANCE Sunday, July 17, 2011 Cemeteries are often places of contemplative meandering. The free form landscape and iconographic markers allow one to roam around freely while viewing history and contemplating life. Sometimes cemeteries can seem very urban, especially when roads are constructed throughout. The PĂ¨re Lachaise Cemetery in Paris is a great example of a very urban cemetery. The land was purchased in 1804, established by Napoleon Bonaparte and designed by French architect Alexandre-ThĂŠodore Brongniart. This cemetery covers 118.6 acresand is home to 300,000 bodies plus many cremated remains in the cemeteries columbarium. The PĂ¨re Lachaise Cemetery is the resting place of many notable and accomplished French individuals and is renowned as one of the most visited cemeteries in the world. I love how designed this cemetery is. It is like a city within a city, a city of the dead that is romantically beautiful. The scale of the monuments begin to define space in an urban fashion and almost make the streets feel residential in nature, like you are among town houses for the dead. By having paved roads this makes the cemetery environment feel more inviting and pleasant, especially with the combinations of trees, street lamps and benches which make this place feel like somewhere that invites you to stay for a while and enjoy it, not to fear and resent it for what it represents. Take a look at the images...

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Wow. These images kind of remind me of Beetlejuice the movie. Was there possibly a connection between France an Beetlejuice of which I was never aware. Interesting that, that movie deals with death.

BODILY T R A N S F O R M A T I O N and VICISSITUDE Sunday, July 17, 2011

When the Fall semester begins my research will commence with a study of urn design and construction. Since my mother’s body was cremated one of my goals is to design a vessel for those remains. As of now they are in the box they were mailed to me in and are tucked away inside my closet, which in a way is a reflection of how I have felt about having them. I quickly put them out of sight and out of mind as I didn’t want to deal with them, not yet, it’s not time. My thesis also will aim to guide me in designing a columbarium (a place for the storage of urns). I suppose by designing this columbarium I will psychologically be placing this urn in its final resting place. I have thought a lot about this process of transformation and my mind begins to associate it with the babushka dolls from Russia.

COMMENTARY Daryl Croi Jul 18, 2011 07:47 PM

When the body is cremated it goes through a transformation. The body is slowly reduced to a small pile of ash through the process of controlled burning. Typically after this many different things can be done with the ashes... they can be spread, turned into a diamond ring, turned into pencils, shot into space etc.; the

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options are endless. One of the more traditional and common choices is to place the ashes in a container of some sort. This container is then placed somewhere special in the family home or sometimes in a cemetery in a columbarium. In a way this process can be a reflection of how we feel inside. The fire the body is put through is reminiscent of the intense feelings death brings upon us. Theconsolidation and compartmentalization of the ashes within a container reminds me of how we sometimes deal with our feelings. Those who place the urn in plain sight in their home may me more at ease and comfortable with this death that has occured versus those who chose to place it at a far away location kinda of pushing the feelings away. Of course this is just another way of looking at it, not an actual psychological fact. This idea of transference and vicissitude within the proceedings after death is very interesting to me and it is certainly not exclusive to cremation as transformation occurs in many different ways throughout various funerary practices. Following are a series of images, organized in a specific order, which visually guide us through the transformation I described.

“LINES“

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Monday, July 25, 2011

I recently finished reading some chapters of the book “The Matter of Death: Space, Place and Materiality” which is basically a collection of articles from various authors discussing similar

themes relating to death. One of the most interesting chapters I read was “Chapter 9: Wandering Line and Cul-de-sacs: Trajectories of Ashes in the United Kingdom” by Leonie Kellaher, Jenny Hockey and David Prendergast. Basically this chapter discusses studies done on the decision processes that are common when dealing with cremated remains. The most interesting part of the article for me came from the discussion surrounding the ideas of anthropologist Tim Ingold. What struck me were his thoughts on place-making and meaningmaking. Ingold states,

“We treat meaning-making as an engaged, open-ended process and not an event or occurence fixed in time and space, then rather than a single death ritual, we are dealing with an openended process of ritualisation.”

He further discusses this open-ended process by describing two types of “lines”which is synonymous with the idea path, journey or trajectory. These two types of lines are: “lines that ‘go for a walk’ in and active and open-ended sense, and those that connect fixed points, with a predetermined start and finish. This distinction both suggests how ashes eventually find themselves in a particular place or geographical location, and describes the trajectories of thought, feeling and conversation which intertwine with these spatial movements.”

He continues later on in describing that lines are also a means of storytelling and that, “stories are like paths that are walked, without clear beginnings and endings, but which ‘relate’ one terrain of lived experience

with another.”

All of this has open my mind to many different things but specifically this idea ofjourney. Ingold’s remarks have not only reminded of the importance of journey but also the importance of storytelling through spatial narratives. In order to truly weave a successful spatial narrative one needs to tap into concepts of place-making, meaning-making, tectonics and temporal materiality. When considering designing a space for death one must also consider aspects of personal history and memory. It is this combination of concepts that leads me full circle back to the idea of “our final space” and or “final home” that is constructed or located for us posthumously.

The line of thinking has developed a very interesting way of generating such a space HOWEVER I must refrain from describing this as I don’t want to give away too much before the Fall begins. Let’s just say it has to do with the idea ofmemory, home and storytelling. Stay tuned... this is going to be pretty exciting.

C E M E T E R I E S in S U M M A T I O N Sunday, July 17, 2011 This will be my final post of the summer, as this will conclude my “summer research.” However this is only the beginning as I will pick back up in Fall to continue my research and begin the physical study of the architecture of death. I leave you with three quotes from the book The Matter of Death: Space, Place and

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Materiality specifically Chapter 8: Private Grief in Public Spaces: Interpreting Memorialisation in the Contemporary Cemetery by Kate Woodthorpe. These quotes I feel sum up exactly the nature of cemeteries aka spaces of death. Enjoy them and reflect on what these spaces mean to you. “Cemeteries are places where the living will go; cemeteries are places where our heritage is stored; cemeteries are places where nature, art and learning can thrive; cemeteries are meeting points for the bereaved and recreational visitors alike; cemeteries are part of our memory bank. Our cemeteries are cultural landscape; cemeteries are open air museums and spiritual places.” “Cemeteries are full of objects loaded with meaning. Permanent and ‘fixed’ (such as mausoleums and headstones), temporary and movable (such as the mementos left on graves), these constitute some of the ‘things’ of material culture associated with death.” “Memorials offer a form of immortality for those who have died as well as the possibility of a continuing link between those who have gone and those who remain... the common thread... is that memorials provide a focus for social transition and a psychological and spiritual link between the living and the dead.”

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REFERENCES Alexander, Christopher. The Nature of Order: An Essay on the Art of Building and the Nature of the Universe, Book 4 - The Luminous Ground. Berkeley, California. CES Publishing, 2003.

Basmajian, Carlton, and Christopher Coutts. 2010. “Planning for the Disposal of the Dead”. Journal of the American Planning Association. 76 (3): 305-317 “Beyond the Grave”. Taboo. National Geographic. September 9, 2010

Elam, Kimberly. Geometry of Design: Studies in Proportion and Composition. 1 Edition. Princeton Architectural Press, 2001

Hocky, Jenny; Komaromy, Carol; Woodthorpe, Kate. The Matter of Death: Space, Place and Materiality. Basingstoke: Palgrace Mcmillam, 2010.

Holl, Steven, Pallasmaa, Juahni and Perez Gomez, Alberto. Questions of Perception: Phenomenology of Architecture. New ed. San Francisco, CA: William Stout, 2006. Ingold, Tim. Lines: A Brief History. 1 Edition. Routledge, 2007.

Pallasmaa, Juhani. The Eyes of The Skin: Architecture and the Senses. John Wiley & Sons Ltd., 2007.

Pallasmaa, Juhani. The Embodied Image: Imagination and Imagery in Architecture. John Wiley & Songs Ltd., 2011.

Prothero, Stephen. Puried by Fire: A History of Cremation in America. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001.

Pyszczynski, Tom, Greenberg, Jeff, Solomon, Sheldon, Arndt, Jamie and Schimel, Jeff. Why Do People Need Self-Esteem? A Theoretical and Empirical Review. Psychological Bulletin, Vol 130(3), May 2004, 435-468.

Sternbery, Esther M. Healing Spaces: The Science of Place and Well-Being. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2009.

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The Infinity Burial Project. http://infinityburialproject.com/

The Bios Urn. http://www.martinazua.com/eng/design-nature/bios-urn/

Tily, Christopher. Metaphor and Material Culture. 1 Edition. Blackwell Publishers Ltd., 1999

Yalom, Marilyn. The American Resting Place. New York City, New York, Houghton Mifflin Company, 2008.

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