Genius Loci by Harry Thompson

Genius Loci

The Role of Architecture & Landscape in Preserving Culture & Social Identity Harry Thompson Architecture BA Honours University of Newcastle upon Tyne 120138775

Abstract

The purpose of this study is to understand the meaning of ‘place’ and ‘existence’; how we create spaces which have a congruent relationship with nature. Using examples it will look into how the culture and identity of a place changes over time, and whether or not these changes are beneficial or detrimental.

Contents

Illustrations…………………………………………………………………………………………………….5 Introduction…………………….……………………………………………………………………………6 1. Genius Loci 1.1 Place……………………………………………………………………………………………………..7 1.2 Natural & Man-‐Made Place……………………………………………………………………..8 1.3 Spirit of The Place………………………………………………………………………………….9 2. Quality of Place 2.1 Environmental Image…………………………………………………………………………..12 2.2 Khartoum……………………………………………………………………………………………13 3. The Modern Movement 3.1 Loss of Place………………………………………………………………………………………..18 3.2 Recovery.…………………………………………………………………………………………….20 Conclusion……………………………………………………………………..……………………………23 Bibliography…………………………………………………………………………………………………25

Illustrations

Cover Photo – Pavement in Berlin, Urban Impressions Exhibition, Exposure Gallery, Ottawa. Source: http://visualencounter.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/urban-‐impressions-‐berlin-‐ exposure_16.html Figure 1 – Estius, P. (2015). Ice Forms Around The Abandoned Bathing Pier. Mullsjö, Sweden. Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/patrikestius/16062522297/in/photostream/ Figure 2 – Kaminesky, K. (2011). The Treasury in Petra, Petra – Jordan’s Incredible Historic World Wonder, Ken Kaminesky. Source: http://blog.kenkaminesky.com/2011/06/20/petra-‐jordan-‐historic-‐world-‐wonder/ Figure 3 – Woodward, S. (2010). Restored Building In Al Ghat. Source: http://drsimonwoodward.blogspot.co.uk/2010/10/heritage-‐conservation-‐in-‐ saudi-‐arabia.html Figure 4 – Lynch, K. (1960). Diagram of Way-‐Finding. The Image of the City Figure 5 – Thompson, H. (2014). Sketch map of Khartoum. Drawn by author. Figure 6 – Norberg-‐Schulz, C. (1980). Alley at Tuti Island. Genius Loci: Towards A Phenomenology of Architecture, p. 120 Figure 7 -‐ Norberg-‐Schulz, C. (1980). Lord Kitchener’s Plan for Khartoum. op. cit. p. 123

Figure 8 – Le Corbusier. (1924). The Green City. Source: https://janetthomas.wordpress.com/category/architecture/

Figure 9 – North Carolina Modernist Houses. Hugh Alvar Henrik Aalto. Source: http://www.ncmodernist.org/aalto.htm

Figure 10 – Talkitect. (2009). Notre Dame du Haut by Le Corbusier. Source: http://talkitect.wordpress.com/2009/11/30/notre-‐dame-‐du-‐haut-‐ronchamp-‐ france/

Introduction

In Roman times, it was believed that each independent being possessed its own Genius, or guardian spirit. This spirit would accompany each being from birth to death, and define their character and essence. It was thought that the genius gave life to both people and place, and even the gods had their genius, which demonstrates what a strong notion this was to the Roman people. Genius Loci factually translates to ‘The Spirit of the Place’, and though most people may not believe they have an individual spirit watching over them and their home in todays world, we still use the term as a concept of identity in a place. Architects, Landscape Architects and Planners in the modern world are now able to produce wildly creative designs, fashioned with technologies our predecessors could never have dreamed of. However in numerous situations across the globe, it has become apparent that the concept of this genius loci has been missed, sometimes creating what might be a wonderful space on a small scale which sticks out of its surroundings like a sore thumb. Over time this can cause a ‘loss of place’, ruining the local distinction of the involved town or city and causing a loss of identity. In this study I will discuss how it is possible to develop a harmonious relationship with the environment around us. To fully understand how the sense of place can change, I want to explore both Architecture and Landscape Architecture. The relationship between the two professions is an especially important one. Sadly, Landscape Architecture in many countries does not receive the recognition that it deserves; some consider it a sub-‐category of architecture. This is not the case; they are two largely differing professions, however they can and should work in concord, and when they do, a real sense of place is achieved. It was Luis Barragán, a Mexican architect who said ‘I don’t divide architecture, landscape and gardening; to me they are one.’ This summarises my thoughts rather nicely; some people think of landscape architecture as glorified gardening, however as Barragán says; architecture, landscape architecture and gardening are three separate professions, which can be used together to create something wonderful. This is a hugely important topic to discuss; art has a huge impact on all of our lives. Blair Kamin wrote an article for the Chicago Tribune that supports this, “All the arts possess the capacity to transform our vision of reality, but for better and for worse, only architecture is the inescapable art. You don't have to go to a play that the theater critic pans, a movie that the film critic hates or a restaurant where, according to the food critic's taste buds, the chef can't cook.” 1 Architecture is constantly around us, whether or not people realise, but their entire lives are affected by the sense of place which architecture and landscape provide in each of the stages of their lives.

1 Kamin: An Activist and the Inescapable Art

1. Genius Loci

1.1 Place In this chapter I will largely be focussing on the writings of Norwegian architect and theorist Christian Norberg-‐Schulz. His book titled ‘Genius Loci, Towards A Phenomenology Of Architecture’ has some very interesting ideas relating to the concepts of place and space. In order to discuss how a place or space changes, we must firstly define what each of the terms mean. Phenomenology is a current aspect of philosophy which influences contemporary architecture, and is a movement in which Schulz is considered an important figure. This philosophy began to have a major impact on contemporary architecture in the 1970s, largely influenced by the writings of Martin Heidegger, who is referred to on several occasions in the book by Schulz. In Phenomenology, the environment is concretely defined as ‘the place’, and the events which occur there ‘take place’. In this sense, place is not simply the locality or geographical location, but consists of quantifiable things which have material substance, for example shape, texture and colour, which together coalesce to form the environment’s character or atmosphere.

Figure 1 -‐ Ice Forming Around A Pier, Mullsjö, Sweden In Genius Loci, Schulz introduces the concept of ‘existential space’, comprising the basic relationships between man and his environment. Architecture in this perception represents a means to give man an ‘existential foothold’ in this world. Existential foothold in this instance is a synonym of ‘dwelling’; a concept introduced by Heidegger, and ‘dwelling’, in an existential sense, is the purpose of architecture. “Architecture means to visualise the genius loci, or ‘spirit of the place’, and the task of the architect is to create meaningful places, whereby he

8 helps man to dwell.’’2 To understand what it means to dwell, we need to first grasp what we would define as ‘the world’. Heidegger says, “Earth is the serving bearer, blossoming and fruiting, spreading out in rock and water, rising up into plant and animal…”3 “The sky is the vaulting path of the sun, the course of the changing moon, the glitter of the stars, the year’s seasons, the light and dusk of day, the gloom and glow of night…”4 Looking at this analysis of earth and sky alone may prove quite confusing or trivial, but it demonstrates its importance when Heidegger’s definition of dwelling is introduced: “The way in which you are and I am, the way in which we humans are on the earth, is dwelling”5, with ‘on the earth’ already meaning ‘under the sky’. He also calls what is between earth and sky ‘the world’, and says, “The world is the house where the mortals dwell.” 6 The place is the concrete manifestation of man’s dwelling, and his identity depends on his belonging to places. 1.2 Natural & Man-‐Made Place Schulz suggests that man-‐made places are related to nature in 3 basic ways: Firstly, man wants to make the natural structure more precise. We call this visualisation, expressing the existential foothold he has gained by building what he has seen; secondly, by complementing the situation he is given, by adding

Figure 2 – The Treasury, Petra what it is ‘lacking’; finally, he has to symbolise his understanding of nature, translating an experienced meaning into another medium for the purpose of freeing that meaning from the immediate situation, making it a cultural object. 2 Norberg-‐Schulz: Genius Loci – Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture, p. 5 3 Heidegger: Poetry, Language, Thought, p. 199 4 Heidegger: Poetry… p. 199 5 Heidegger: Hebel der Hausfreund, p. 13 6 Heidegger: Hebel… p.13

9 Schulz follows this to say that these three are “aspects of the general processes of settling; and dwelling, in the existential sense of the word, depends on these functions.”7 These are all important ideas for the analysis of the changing culture of modern cities, as it helps me to understand man’s reasoning behind his creation of place. Another focus is how to define when one space ends and the next begins; we can call this a boundary. Boundaries consist of similar aspects but at varying scale. For instance, the boundaries for a built space consist of floor, wall and ceiling, whereas a landscape has boundaries of ground, horizon and sky. Heidegger says, “A boundary is not that at which something stops but, as the Greeks recognised, the boundary is that, from which something begins it’s presencing.”8 The enclosing properties of a boundary are therefore determined by the openings into it. The place within can be analysed by means of categorising into ‘space’ and ‘character’, the space referring to the organisation of the various elements which make up a place, and ‘character’ denoting the atmosphere, perhaps the most comprehensive property of any place. Schulz utilises a good method for distinguishing between place, space and character through the use of different verbal classifications. He says that when places are classified, we should use nouns, such as ‘island’, ‘bay’, ‘forest’, implying they are real things which exist as physical elements in the world. Space is instead denoted (as a system of relations) by prepositions such as ‘above’ or ‘behind’. Finally, character is denoted through the use of adjectives. A character is a “complex totality” which can rarely be summarised through one single adjective, unless one aspect of this character is so distinct that one word would seem appropriate to grasp its essence. 1.3 The Spirit of the Place The relationship between man and his environment has changed dramatically throughout the ages. Ancient man experienced his environment as consisting of definite characters; he recognised that it is hugely important to accept the genius of the locality where his life takes place. In the past, survival depended on a good relationship with the place in both a physical and mental sense. For example in ancient Egypt, the country was cultivated in accordance with the Nile floods, and the very organisation of the landscape served as a model for the layout of public buildings. Schulz suggests this gave man a sense of security by symbolising an eternal environmental order. He also follows to say “In fact modern man for a long time believed that science and technology had freed him from a direct dependence on places.”9 Here he shows the main way in which our existential foothold has changed throughout history. The interrelationship between man and his environment has become less of a utilitarian relationship and more of a symbiosis, where we are no longer so desperately relying on our environment for survival and where we are now able to work harmoniously in a more constructive manner. 7 Schulz, op. cit. p. 17 8 Heidegger, Poetry… p. 154 9 Schulz, op. cit. p. 18

10 So how do we determine the strength of a relationship between man and his environment? Looking back at the meaning of ‘dwelling’ being the total man-‐ place relationship, as well as reviewing the distinction between aspects of ‘space’ and ‘character’, Schulz says, “When man dwells, he is simultaneously located in space and exposed to a certain environmental character.”10 This leaves us with two hugely important psychological functions involved. In order to gain an existential foothold in this world, man has to be able to know where he is in a space, and he also has to know how he fits into this space; he has to be able to orientate himself as well as being able to identify himself in the environment. Although these concepts of orientation and identification are two aspects of one total relationship, they have a certain independence within this totality: it is possible to orientate yourself without genuine identification and people can cope in life without feeling sincerely ‘at home’, likewise it is possible to feel at home without knowing the spatial arrangement of the given space. However to truly belong to a place it is vital that both psychological functions are completely established. In his book The Image of the City, Kevin Lynch, an American urban planner and author from Chicago, introduces the notions of ‘node’ (landmark), ‘path’, ‘edge’ and ‘district’ to denote the basic spatial structures which are the object of man’s orientation. Lynch has provided an essential contribution to the theory of ‘place’, with the perceived interrelationship of these elements constituting something known as an ‘environmental image’. Lynch follows: “A good environmental image gives its possessor an important sense of emotional security.” 11 Consequently, all cultures have developed systems of orientation in the form of spatial structures which facilitate the development of a better environmental image. “The world may be organised around a set of focal points, or be broken into named regions, or be linked by remembered routes.”12 It is often the case that these systems of orientation are derived from a given natural structure in the locality. Where the system proves weak, the build up of a good environmental image proves more difficult, which can leave man feeling ‘lost’. “The terror of being lost comes from the necessity that a mobile organism be oriented in its surroundings.”13 In this instance I would have to define the feeling of being lost as the opposite provided by that of dwelling. Where dwelling provides a sense of security, being lost provides alienation and, as Lynch stated, “terror”. Norberg-‐Schulz also talks about the development in attention to detail with regards to orientation in a space. In more ancient societies for instance, we find that even the smallest environmental details are known and meaningful, and they make up complex spatial structures. However in modern society, we have often ignored these smaller details and instead diverted our attention towards the more practical function of orientation, leaving the aspect of identification largely forgotten and uncontrolled. As a result, “true dwelling, in a psychological sense, has been substituted by alienation.”14 We are then urged to read further into understanding these concepts of orientation and identification “urgently”, 10 Schulz, op. cit. p. 19 11 Lynch: The Image of the City, p. 4 12 Lynch, op. cit. p. 7 13 Lynch, op. cit. p. 125 14 Schulz, op. cit. p. 21

11 almost as if Schulz is reaching out to us as a desperate plea to save this sense of dwelling in our modern day society. In this situation “identification” means to become friends with a given environment. Schulz uses the example of Nordic man, becoming friends with the harsh conditions of snow, ice and frosty winds in which they must live, contrasting it to the Arab, who instead must become friends with the ‘infinitely extended, sandy desert’. For modern urban man the relationship is drastically different. Instead of relating to a larger scale natural environment and climatic conditions, he must become friends with more fragmentary details, identifying Figure 3 – Traditional Building, Al Ghat, Saudi Arabia with man-‐made things such as streets or houses. It is more in this environment that Architecture comes into play. German-‐born American architect Gerhard Kallmann once told a story illustrating this relationship; when he arrived home in Berlin after the Second World War he found the house in which he had grown up had been destroyed during the bombings, leaving him feeling somewhat disoriented. However he then recognised the pavement running under his feet, and the floor on which he used to play as a child, and he experienced a strong feeling of being at home. Kallmann’s story proves that objects of identification are physical elements, and also teaches us that man’s relationship to these elements is strongly developed during childhood. Schulz progresses to say that a child becomes acquainted with its environment during its younger years, developing “schemata” which would impact all future experiences. The identity of a person is defined in terms of these schemata, which Schulz confirms through the use of self-‐description, stating that if a person is asked who they are, it is more common to hear “I am a New Yorker” or “I am Roman” rather than “I am a Landscape Architect”. “It is therefore not only important that our environment has a spatial structure which facilitates orientation, but that it consists of concrete objects of identification.”15

15 Schulz, op. cit. p. 21

2. Quality of Place

2.1 Environmental Image

In order to help establish a place’s quality of space, Lynch presents us with a

valuable concept that he called imageability, defining it as “that quality in a physical object which gives it a high probability of evoking a strong image in any given observer.”16 This gives us the foundation of a means to investigate the spatial value of any given place. Continuing from the idea of an environmental image, we are able to analyse this concept and divide it into three main components: identity, structure, and meaning. A favourable environmental image requires the identification of an object, implying its distinction from other things and recognising it as a separable entity. The image must include the spatial or pattern relation of the object to the observer and to other objects; and the object must have some meaning for the observer, whether practical or emotional. Environmental images are the result of a two-‐way process between the observer and his environment, and the image of any given reality may vary dramatically between any different observers. The strength of this relationship can arise in several ways. There may be little that is outstanding or ordered about an object, and yet its mental picture has gained organisation and identification through long familiarity. For example the way in which people are able to navigate their own workspace and find objects easily in what appears to the outside observer to be a cluttered and disorganised space. This is what I like to call organised mess, where everything has its set place in your own mind, although it may not seem obvious to anyone else. Alternatively, an object can be seen for the first time and be instantly identified and related to because it conforms to a stereotype already constructed by the observer. Finally, a new object may appear to have identity because of striking physical features that suggest their own pattern. One might think that striking features on a city or a landscape are not that large a focus for a real sense of home and security, however it has always played a vital role. In fact a striking landscape is the skeleton upon which many primitive races erected their socially important myths, and Lynch goes on to say “the sweet sense of home is strongest when home is not only familiar but distinctive as well.”17 Of course, we cannot scale quality as a purely quantitative measure. Truly understanding the place as a whole is a task that requires many kinds of perception. Lynch uses the idea of path finding as one of the aspects of understanding a cityscape. “Despite a few remaining puzzles [after psychological studies of man], it now seems unlikely that there is any mystic instinct of way-‐ finding.” 18 Rather than this instinct, there is a consistent use and organisation of definite sensory cues from the external environment, 16 Lynch, op. cit. p. 9 17 Lynch, op. cit. p. 5 18 Lynch, op. cit. p. 3

Figure 4 – Way-‐finding Diagram

13 which allows us to develop our environmental image. This organisation is fundamental to the efficiency and in some cases to the very survival of free-‐ moving life. Here Lynch introduces the concept of “legibility”, which he defines as the apparent clarity of the cityscape, and “the ease with which its parts can be recognised and can be organised into a coherent pattern.”19 A highly legible city therefore enables one to move about easily and quickly, and the best way to provide a legible city is to provide order. However to judge legibility at an urban scale we cannot entirely focus on the city itself as merely an entity, but we must consider its perception by the inhabitants there. We can, however, include legibility as a subcategory of imageability. We now have a few indicators that will prove useful in judging the fundamental quality of a place: the city must be well formed and distinct, it must invite the eye and the ear to greater participation and attention; it must be able to over time be understood, using continuous patterns with distinctive sections clearly interconnected; and the observer should be able to orientate and move through the city with ease. 2.2 Khartoum When considering a city with a great quality of place, there are few which can compare to the exclusivity of Khartoum. Khartoum is the capital city of Sudan, and is located at the confluence of the White Nile, flowing north from Lake Victoria, and the Blue Nile, flowing west from Ethiopia. People who visit Khartoum are immediately struck with a strong quality of place, with the landscape of Khartoum having a prominent cosmic elegance to it. The infinite expanse of desert, the east-‐west trajectory of the sun and the south-‐north flow of the Nile come together to create a powerful natural order. Here the confluence of the Niles creates a meeting point, where we no longer feel stranded in the expansive desert or along the oasis created by the Nile, and the conurbation acts as a type of crossroad, inviting people to come together in this Figure 5 – Sketch Map of Khartoum place and dwell. At Khartoum, Arabic, African and European elements are gathered, a fact which is directly voiced by the presence of each culture in the public life. “Although Khartoum is different, the visitor does not feel a stranger.”20 However Khartoum does not provide one single unified visual image. The city is clearly divided into three towns (consequently it is commonly known as The Three Towns): colonial Khartoum, planned by Lord Kitchener in 1898 after the conquest of the Mahdist regime, has wide regular streets, countering the labyrinthine world of previous capital Omdurman; and Khartoum North 19 Lynch, op. cit. p. 2 20 Schulz, op. cit. p. 135

14 combines both characteristics, sharing them to create a more present-‐day industrial town. The ever-‐expanding sands of the desert in this part of Africa are seemingly endless. Unlike many other deserts in the world, in Sudan there are no obvious topographical features to disturb the land, leaving a flat expanse all the way to the horizon. This immediately gives the feel of its own detached world. Khartoum stands as a lone figure on the landscape, where the Niles converge and the breadth of the desert is divided into three domains. There are not even any roads linking Khartoum to the rest of the outside world. To reach it, one has to drive through the barren desert surroundings with no primary directions, providing a sense of true openness, and further accentuating the character of an alienated figure in a continuous natural background, helping to unify The Three Towns into a single image to some extent. There are two basic types of urban structure that can be found in The Three Towns: the labyrinthine world of the desert settlement, and a geometric pattern of Baroque derivation. Of these, the labyrinthine pattern best represents the original, vernacular structure. This is particularly true in Tuti Island, which we could consider as a fourth, critically significant settlement in the conurbation. Tuti is situated where the two Niles meet, forming the true heart of Khartoum, where the island site here adds a certain aspect of density to the interior of the labyrinth that cannot be compared elsewhere. The lanes are very narrow, constantly changing direction, and all mathematical order is tossed aside and the feeling of intimacy is very strong. This pattern is also preserved in some of the villages throughout the conurbation, largely in the agricultural settlements, which are now fully assimilated into the structure of the Three Towns. Figure 6 – Alley at Tuti Island These settlements aren’t actually located on the riverside, but are set back from the banks, between the desert and the river oasis, essentially making them desert villages, with the oasis being left as a green belt for the sake of preserving agricultural land when the seasonal flooding occurs. The foremost aspect creating a unique genius for the Three Towns is the contrast of exterior and interior space, and the idea of enclosure. Throughout each of the settlements this is evidently clear. Although a unified visual image may not be possible, Khartoum still possesses a sense of intimacy that is a distinct property of any true place: the wide streets of colonial Khartoum are accompanied by arcades and covering trees; and the narrow lanes and

15 courtyards of Omdurman are genuine ‘interior worlds’; in both settlements, the suk (market) is a focal point for social interaction. There are distinct differences between the three settlements, with bridges clearly linking them together into a ring formation. This is a place that is a fantastic example of man’s reaction to the problem of a life situation. The surrounding desert provides a challenge; the river provides hope for man to settle upon.

Figure 7 – Lord Kitchener’s Plan for Khartoum The desert is omnipresent in Khartoum, not only is it felt at the peripheries of the conurbation, but the glimpses between buildings and the constant feel of the warm sand beneath one’s feet makes the desert a continuously present element of life here. Schulz states “It is a kind of pitiless world, which although it offers man life, leaves it to him alone to create a space where he can dwell and develop the values of community and privacy.” 21 Here he strips the man-‐nature relationship back down to the simplified utilitarian relationship which is largely based on survival. Man relies heavily on the world around him to survive; yet in Khartoum the world offers little support to help him along the way. In fact the only prominent ‘structural’ element is the Nile, without which the entire area would likely be unidentifiable, and quite inarticulate as a geographical location. In spite of each of their differences, the Three Towns share the basic fact that they provide dwelling in a harsh desert country. This is primarily achieved through division of the natural environment by enclosing an area using a fence or a wall. Here dwelling is a problem rather than a luxury, there for man to solve. In turn, architecture is stripped down and reduced to the raw essentials, giving the style of Khartoum a distinct character. Idiosyncrasies and personal experiments in building are meaningless; if you do not comprehend and obey the laws of the natural environment then life will become impossible. As mentioned before, man is hugely dependent on the environment here, which is evident in the use of local materials and colours. Houses will traditionally be built from mud or sun-‐dried brick, in colours of golden-‐brown, a method that is still commonly used throughout Khartoum. The houses are built as totally closed, “prismatic shapes” as a clear response to the challenge of desert life. “Whereas the desert is what man has to escape from, and accordingly was related by the 21 Schulz, op. cit. p. 115

16 Egyptians to death, the house is a protected world where life may blossom.”22 The house is not so much a comfort as a vital necessity for existence. Due to enclosure being the primary aspect of urban design here, in the vernacular parts of the conurbation, the perimeter wall and gate of a private residence are usually the first elements to be built, even before the dwelling itself, in order to determine the boundary around the space one is able to call their own. Scaling down further, within this boundary are usually several one-‐ roomed houses, being either freestanding or attached to the outer wall, and they divide the area into separate spaces, one for men and the other for women and children. The windows are small with wooden shutters that rarely open, again emphasising the feeling of separation. Here we begin to see the importance of these interior spaces to the inhabitants of Khartoum. This is a key aspect for residencies of desert villages and towns, and is also true at a larger scale; a desert village should also be considered as an entity in which you enter. To be within a place within the desert is the best means of finding an existential foothold in the infinite expanse of the surrounding country. This presents the idea of interior layers; to really accentuate the sense of security provided by a dwelling, man is able to produce an interior within an interior within another final interior. The vernacular architecture of Khartoum represents a remarkable fusion of African and Arabic characters. The architecture of Khartoum is less sophisticated than the Arabic, with the usual glazed tiles no longer present. However the basic character is the same, stemming from this need to create a divided interior, which offers protection from the “pitiless” world outside. Schulz adds another interesting idea here by saying “This inside could be likened to a living cell. As such it cannot grow and conquer the hostile environment, but more cells may be added until a true organism results.”23 This is certainly true of Khartoum, where it is inevitably imagined that each of these inside cells is an isolated artificial garden, which allows for development of a personal space that simply would not be possible outside of the walls. However when several of these private compounds come together, a more public domain is able to form: the semi-‐ private access street, the public corridor street and the exceptionally public suk. The introduction of colonial Khartoum however created a slightly different style. Here, the houses are more open to the environment, with continuous porticoes running along the front façade, and the perimeter wall being replaced with a more transparent fencing. Here we find more intricate detailing, with the introduction of arches, architraves and ionic columns; an establishment of elements of classical European architecture. In turn, the urban spaces of colonial Khartoum do not follow the Islamic principles of city building. Whereas the traditional house is introvert, the colonial houses are extrovert, expressing a different relationship between man and nature. The extrovert buildings make a continuous public milieu possible, which allows for more modern forms of human interaction. Khartoum has a rich and dramatic history, and in spite of this the structure has survived, being deliberately used and developed by the successive rulers. This structure is still relatively well preserved today, but the impact of the input of 22 Schulz, op. cit. p. 116 23 Schulz, op. cit. p. 130

17 ‘modern life’ has started to be felt. The government of the Sudan felt a need for planned development, rather than the scattering of agricultural villages forming clusters of habitation, and so they commissioned a master plan for Khartoum from the Greek architect Doxiadis in 1959. Doxiadis had no real understanding of The Three Towns’ genius loci, so he placed an orthogonal grid over the entire conurbation, restricting the natural whole and the various settlement structures into the same abstract constraints. Mercifully these plans were abandoned, and a plan more appropriate to the place was engaged in its stead, with more respect for the genius of Khartoum. It is a place of vast dimensions, with the wide Niles and the distant three settlements, which we can say is in tune with the immeasurable expansive surroundings and its position in the African continent. The simple and strong natural environment determines the general character of the milieu, and although man has to befriend the desert in order to thrive here, he must also complement it, adding his own artificial world to withdraw into. Here we find the true beauty of Khartoum, each of the settlements react in a different way to the challenge presented to them by the desert, providing a slight variation in the relationship between man and nature. In turn we see the conclusion that each of the Three Towns represents a different interpretation of the same genius loci, which is what makes Khartoum such a unique city with a brilliantly convincing quality of place.

3. The Modern Movement 3.1 Loss of Place

The world is an ever-‐changing place. Cities and settlements across the globe are in a continuous state of development. There is no finished product of a town or city; the work does not stop in a state of completion. Rather the settlement is a product of many builders who continue to modify the structure for various reasons of their own. “There is no final result, only a continuous succession of phases.”24 Lynch here states that while a city may have a “phase” of stable structure for various lengths of time, it is never finally concluded, and only limited control can be implemented over its growth and form. This is one of the main ways in which urban planning or moulding cities as an art differs from that of architecture and landscape; architecture can have a final outcome, where cities cannot. So then why is it that during this continuous progressive development that the sense of place has been lost in many urban centres? In order to determine the changing genius loci of a city or town, we must consider its historic context. That is, the connection between what previously existed and the future of the place. In this way, cities can be likened to human beings who obtain genetic qualities from their parents and, combining them with environmental influences and personal experiences, develop their individual character, which in turn will pass on to the next generation. It is a lack of attention to this historic context that then leads to the changing culture. A historic continuity is required to fully maintain the genius loci of a place. The way in which we orientate ourselves in today’s cities is also a continuously changing factor that affects the imageability of the place. Lynch states “To become completely lost is perhaps a rather rare experience for most people in the modern city.”25 In today’s metropolis, we are constantly supported with multiple safety mechanisms to prevent the problem of being lost. We are reinforced by the presence of others, and also through the use of distinct way-‐ finding devices: maps, street numbers, route signs and in the last decade through the introduction of smart phones. The way in which we orientate ourselves has become increasingly easy with the development of technology, however Schulz suggests that we spend too much of our time on the orientation in modern society, saying “attention has almost exclusively been concentrated on the ‘practical’ function of orientation, whereas identification has been left to chance.”26 This highlights the real focus problem of the modern age of urban planning: we have increased our capacity for orientation to great lengths, however the function of identification, that we also originally said was needed in order for man to dwell, has been disregarded. When walking through a modern urban environment, the observer is presented with fewer of the surprises and new discoveries that made the experience of older settlements quite so fascinating. Spatially, the new settlements no longer possess the sense of density and enclosure (like that of 24 Lynch, op. cit. p. 2 25 Lynch, op. cit. p. 4 26 Schulz, op. cit. p. 21

19 Khartoum), and they more consist of buildings located liberally in a park-‐like space. Although there may be some planned order or organised layout of these buildings, from the street level this is generally unclear, which causes the sense of place to become somewhat lost. These buildings are not related to their landscape, and it is also hard to see a unified urban whole; they simply live out their lives in a mathematically defined situation. In La Maison des Hommes, Le Corbusier wrote, “Man dwells badly, that is the deep and real reason for the upheavals of our time.”27 Here he explains that this crisis, on both a human and environmental level, has been brought around by mans’ own ambition for making the environment ‘better’. The modern movement in architecture can be perceived as an attempt to regain an existential foothold in this world, recovering the sense of place that was lost. In order to achieve this, elements of both ‘freedom’ and ‘identity’ needed to be reached. In this sense, freedom was the act of liberating man from the regimented systems of the Baroque age, and identity was the ability to bring man back to the original essentials. From this point of view, we see modernism as a revision of human existence rather than a progressive new rationalism.

Figure 8 – The ‘Green City’ by Le Corbusier So why then did the modern movement lead to a loss of place rather than a restoration? The modern movement itself was founded in order to redefine the way in which man dwells, and Le Corbusier’s idea of the ‘Green City’ was merely a response to the poor living conditions in the industrial cities of the previous century. However the movement itself caused some confusion of scale. The 27 Le Corbusier: La maison des hommes, p. 5

20 modern house was planned to have a greater connection to the outside world, with spaces both ‘open’ and ‘flowing’. This kind of design would be ideal for more rural settlements and suburban family homes, however in urban settlements, a real distinction between the realms of private and public is a necessary component. The modern urban settlement can be seen as a scaled up version of the modern house, where quarters and cities act as large open plans. In many neighbourhoods which are built today, the feeling of true urban interior is absent; the space is freely flowing between open-‐plan freestanding walls, which in this case take the form of the surrounding buildings. “Spatially, the modern city is therefore based on a confusion of scales; a pattern which might be valid on one level is blindly transferred to another.”28 Another point that led to the monotony of the modern city was the idea of an international style, introduced in the 1920s. At this time, it was thought that modern architecture shouldn’t differ with local or regional variety, but should follow a set of standard principles wherever it was located. This is not to say that the modern architecture was not aesthetically pleasing, modern buildings have a structural integrity and volumetric configuration that satisfies the previous demands for freedom and identity. However when we transfer the character of modern buildings up to an urban scale, it loses the majority of interest. “What was subtle interplay of forms, which (almost) confirms Mies’ thesis that ‘less is more’, becomes sterile monotony.”29 Here we may again consider the confusion of scales. This ‘first stage’ of modern architecture was successful to the scale of a house, but not to that of a city or town. “The essence of settlement consists of gathering, and gathering means that different meanings are brought together. The architecture of exclusion mainly told us that the modern world is ‘open’… …Openness cannot be gathered. Openness means departure, gathering means return.”30 Yet it would not be fair to pin all the blame on the modern movement because of these problems of scale. This would only prove to be a temporary issue, and this can be considered as the first phase of the movement. 3.2 Recovery Alfred Lorenzer, a social psychologist once wrote: “The architect as a mere technical aid to the dominant powers, corresponds to the ideal of consequent functionalists. The sacrificium intellectus [sacrifice of intelligence] of these architects is architecture.”31 Here Lorenzer describes modern architects almost as puppets, where they have sacrificed their creative styling to produce a functional form of architecture that obeys the demands of these “dominant powers.” This was a large incentive which started the ball rolling for the modern movement to regain a sense of place. Although what Lorenzer wrote may in fact be the case for some protagonists of the modern movement, many architects either left their countries or gave up their active professional lives to follow their artistic faith. This in turn gave Sigfried Giedion, a spokesman for the modern 28 Schulz, op. cit. p. 194 29 Schulz, op. cit. p. 195 30 Schulz, op. cit. p. 195 31 Lorenzer, Architektur als Ideologie, p. 51

21 movement, the courage to write: “Architecture has long ceased to be the concern of passive and businesslike specialists who built precisely what their clients demanded. It has gained the courage to deal with life…”32 This immediately counteracted the words of Lorenzer for the majority of modern architects, making it true for only a few imitators who did not fully understand the aims of the modern movement. So here the second phase of modern architecture came into being, with the idea of giving buildings and places individuality, taking into consideration the locality of any building task rather than following a general set of rules or principles. This instantly reinforces the idea of an existential foothold, and the relationship between man and his environment, as more care is being taken to ensure that the buildings fit comfortably into their surroundings. Here I want to refer to three outstanding architects who were a true manifestation of the turning point of modern architecture. Firstly through the works of Alvar Aalto who, even before the Second World War, wanted to adapt the spatial structure of his buildings as well as the surrounding space by reintroducing topographical forms. The MIT Senior Dormitory in Cambridge, Massachusetts is a fine example of his approach, where the rolling wall of this building fortifies the modern idea of freedom, as well as representing an adaptation to the spatial situation. Aalto also strived to give his architecture a real sense of local character, as a kind of new regional approach, for example in the Villa Mairea where the Finnish genius loci is deeply present. Figure 9 – MIT S enior Dormitory, Mass. Aalto seemed to treat this design as an opportunity to try and gather all aspects of his previous design work that he was unable to use in actual buildings before, and to this day the Villa is still considered one of the most important pieces of design work in his career. The second key design for this phase of modern architecture was the chapel of Notre Dame du Haut in Ronchamp, by Le Corbusier, where he wanted to create “a vessel of intense concentration and meditation.” 33 Le Corbusier had recognised at an earlier time the importance of gathering in an urban settlement, and the church itself has become a true centre and a gathering force, indicating a core for the community around it. 32 Giedion, Space, Time and Architecture, p. 708 33 Le Corbusier, Oeuvre complète, p. 72

Figure 10 – The Church of Ronchamp, France The third and conclusive contribution to the recovery of place through these means must be the work of American architect Louis Kahn, who’s approach ran along the lines of asking the question: “What does the building want to be?” This allowed him to provide ‘answers’ to the question in each of his designs through the use of varying space and character: open and closed, clusters and groups, symmetry and asymmetry. The primary role of walls in his eyes was to receive light, “the giver of all presences”, and he also believed “Of the elements of a room the window is the most marvellous.”34 Kahn understood architecture in terms of place, and his works are fantastic, real things that remind us of the cosmic relationship between earth and sky. One of the first architects to approach the issue in a human way was the Danish architect Jörn Utzon, with several residential projects such as Birkehöj in 1960. Here Utzon managed to create a unified settlement with a strong sense of place as a meaningful social interior, and brilliant local character which followed the traditional Danish values of intimacy. Utzon was not only recognised for his work in Denmark; he had abilities to adapt his designs to other environmental characters, such as the Sydney Opera House in 1957. So we find that eventually, the process of creating urban centres that follow the genius loci of their situation has become a more important aspect in architecture, landscape and urban design, largely during this modern movement. Although it is not a largely consistent way of designing across the globe, and still there are architects and urban planners out there almost destroying the sense of intimacy and safety provided by the sense of place, we are in fact making progress for future generations. 34 Kahn, The Room, The Street and Human Agreement

4. Conclusion

Is there a major role for architecture and landscape in preserving the genius loci of a place? Absolutely. Without these forms of inescapable art, the idea of gaining an existential foothold in this world would become impossible. It is definitely achievable to develop a harmonious relationship with the natural environment, but without both foci this would never be complete. Landscape architecture allows us to tweak our surroundings in order to make it easier to dwell within, whereas architecture allows us to complement the environment by adding ideas formed through our own experiences, and provides us with a safe haven to retreat into when the world outside becomes too harsh and ‘pitiless’, such as in Khartoum. We must be able to identify ourselves in order to gain this relationship, and objects of identification are physical ‘concrete’ elements. In today’s world, this is less revolving around natural topographical features of a place, such as would have been the case in more ancient times, but rather more to do with the man-‐ made place: rooms, buildings, streets and pavements. It is also true that the strongest relationships we acquire with these places are built during childhood, developing the ‘schemata’ which inevitably aids in all decisions from then on. Goethe also says “It is evident, that the eye is educated by the things it sees from childhood on…”35 Here the solution for future crises of this manner becomes obvious; if we do not educate children to develop an artistic part of their schemata, we are likely to roll back to a world of regimented absolutist urban centres lacking creative flares of design and with little sense of place. Schulz reinforces this idea by saying, “Education through Art is therefore more needed than ever before, and the work of art which above all ought to serve as the basis for our education, is the place which gives us our identity.”36 Our study of the modern movement of architecture has shown that the means for a solution to the environmental crisis do exist. The solution has already been demonstrated, such as in the works discussed in the preceding chapters, however in many places the works which match this criteria are quantitatively scarce, mainly due to people lacking a true understanding of the environmental crisis at hand. One of the main things I have learned from this study is that such an understanding will only be possible with a theory of place. The theory of place has not only taught me about the crucial relationship between man and his environment but has also shown that modern architecture has a direction and a goal: architecture as the recovery of place. This ties fairly nicely in with the idea of historic context and continuity, relating the past to the future. Giedion words it nicely by saying that “Both above and below the surface of this century there is a new demand for continuity. It has again become apparent that human life is not limited to the period of a single life-‐span.”37 Maybe the problem was that we were too narrow minded in terms of perception of time, purely focussing on our own life experiences. 35 Goethe: Italienishce Reise 36 Schulz, op. cit. p. 202 37 Giedion: Constancy, Change and Architecture, p. 7

24 Architecture and landscape are not only essential to urban life, but to all free-‐ moving life on this planet. Without the two, we would never be able to grasp a full sense of place, and as Schulz puts it: “Only when understanding our place, we may be able to participate and contribute to its history.”38 Maintaining the genius loci of a place helps to define who we are, it identifies us. Without a sense of place, and somewhere to call home, we would be lost and alienated in this world with no foothold to support us, for human identity in general depends on growing up in an environment with character. The place is undeniably in a continuous state of change, and cultures are largely going to adapt with it. However with architecture and landscape still stemming from the same historically rooted principles, such as the interior security of Khartoum, it is possible to maintain this genius loci, the spirit of the place.

38 Schulz, op. cit. p. 202

Bibliography

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