AGENCY OF AMBIGUITY_Conrad Cooper by RMIT Landscape Architecture

THE AGENCY OF AMBIGUITY SEMINAR

SENSORY ENGAGEMENTS WITH THE LANDSCAPE BY CONRAD COOPER

Ambiguity is defined as ‘the state of having more than one possible meaning’ (Cambridge Dict. 2021). Concepts that are hard to distinguish have a strong relationship to the mysteries of the natural world and therefore have the potential to be used effectively within the discourse of landscape architecture. Just as Leonardo Da Vinci noticed that ‘by indistinct things the mind is stimulated to new inventions’ (Da Vinci, notebooks), applying ambiguous methods within a creative practise leads to new possibilities and the expansion of the sphere of production. To apply the concept of ambiguity deliberately to a design situation various tools and techniques are required. These mechanisms are developed not only through self-directed explorations, of photographing, making, and experimenting, but also by understanding the broader context behind the concepts of projection and representation. This is based upon unpacking the components of traditional cartographic devices such as maps and drawing, as well as comparing the specific approach of key thinkers and makers both historically and contemporary. This essay documents my own experiences and learnings from these explorations as I attempt to uncover my own approach to a practise that is both intentional and ambiguous.

I began looking for manifestations of ambiguity in the realm around me. I searched for beauty or intricacies in objects not generally considered to be aesthetically pleasing. Industrial materials that are ubiquitous in our environment. Objects such as concrete pavement, drain covers and telephone poles. Through this pursuit it became clear that ambiguity is not tied to any one material, location, theme, or concept alike, but that it can be experienced almost anywhere and everywhere. During these early stages of searching the neighbourhood moments of ambiguity were revealed to me most in the places I had looked before and indeed did look the most. As I began to reconsider these ‘familiar’ places with an open mindset, a new set of relationships or image was formed. Just as Da Vinci noticed, ‘To stop sometimes and look into the stains of walls, or ashes of a fire, or clouds, or mud or like places, in which if you consider them well, you may find really marvellous ideas’ (Da Vinci, notebooks). Walking the local footpath I began to take notice in the way materials were captured on the surface of the concrete screed creating different patterns. Although the outcomes of these initial findings seem rather ordinary now, at the time of noticing this ambiguous feature, I began to ‘consider them well.’ This pattern on the concrete could be ripples on the surface of water or expressive of the swirling of wind or any number of possible explanations. I questioned what were the factors that caused these blemishes or patterns to occur? It was clear that time was affecting the complexion of the screed as dirt and moss began to invade the surface and that across this time the use of the surface would also cause variations. These simple revelations already hinting that there is a deep relationship between ambiguous constructs and time. Furthering these ponderings, I wondered how I might presently cause changes to the surface thereby exposing alternate ambiguous relationships. Pouring water across the surface brought about different textures as well as accentuating any deviations in the surface that would direct the water flow. This was the opening phase of my journey, noting how interactions, whether it be between water, sun, material, texture, or time create new manifestations of ambiguity.

‘Found’ ambiguity as it appeared in my neighbourhood

Adapting or editing these initial photographs could quickly produce or totally modify the original relationships. So, ambiguity can be easily found and modified but can it be created and how? The answer to this question evolved over the course of the semester as I began experimenting, initially with paint and a brush to create ambiguous images.

To build on these early notions of ambiguity as they apply to the landscape, I read Katrina Simons thesis, titled ‘Image, Territory, Picture, Map: The Slipperiness of Landscape Inscriptions.’ This text challenges the possibilities and traditional methods of landscape inscription to ‘deploy the ambiguity of maps in the production of the creative work’ (Simon, 2012, p. 2). The text articulates how ‘landscape resists simple definition’ that its slipperiness and ability to mix between multiple disciplines, ideas and philosophies makes it very much relevant to the concept of ambiguity. The text refers to practitioners such as land artist Robert Smithson who set about ‘making new inscriptions in the surface of the landscape medium itself’ (Simon, 2012, p. 51). The outcomes of which produce inscriptions that suggest a series of ongoing relationships with the surrounding environment. These relationships can be understood not only through vision but can be experienced with all senses. These kinds of acts perhaps influencing the evolution of landscape architecture. Whereas architecture concerns itself with the topographical nature of the landscape, landscape architecture reflects on the experience within the landscape, understanding It as a connected living entity. These notions of inscriptions are further developed in a cartographic sense by James Corner who views ‘the map as potentially a creative inscription that can reveal and re-engender the lived experience of landscapes’ (Corner, as cited in Simon, 2012, p 55).

Modified ambiguity using digital techniques. This was a more difficult task then I had expected for the hand is controlled by the mind and the mind can be tightly wound by previous experience limiting the outcome. Making monoprints became a technique to create unexpected or unforeseen results. For by positioning monoprints between the work and myself, the monoprints became a mediator giving privilege to the unconscious.

Reflecting on these ideas I can begin to recognize the moments of ‘found’ ambiguity I have previously discovered as literally inscriptions on the earth’s surface. As was discussed in this text, these inscriptions represent a ‘live’ interaction as they change and interact with processes occurring over time. This implies that the experiential qualities of landscape may be understood and indeed represented through the very tactile nature of ambiguous creations.

Although the outcomes of these trials seemed to be random blobs of colour and pattern the early prints resemble the inkblots from the Rorschach test used by psychologists. In this test each person will see what pertains to them, we are as humans set to find figuration in abstraction. Similarly, as was written in one of Leonardo da Vinci’s notebooks ‘if you have to invent some scene, you can see there resemblances to a number of landscapes.’ Sure enough by opening the mind and reimagining these indistinct things rivers, earth and areas of vegetation began to emerge.

Painting & Printing .

Further quests into materials and an interest in the movements of sand and water lead to my next set of experiments. Guided by the fact that ‘landscape is a living biome that is subject to flux and change by natural processes operating over time’ (Corner, 1968, p. 245). I intended to use a physical approach to model the influences of these phenomena against the material of sand. Using sand on a flat plane I vibrated, moulded, and shaped sand over the surface. Whilst the grains of sand had the ability to disperse and move through the site. The depth of these movements and changes were lost on the flat surface. Furthermore, by using photography to record these experiments the nuances and interactions of the moving particles were distilled into a snapshot.

Whilst water and pigments added a layer of complexity, the works seemed too two-dimensional to demonstrate the ‘live’ relationships of these materials.

However, digital processing started to evoke scenes parallel to those of familiar environments.

Continuing to use dyes, sand, and water I found that the three-dimensional space of a container could constrain and thereby accentuate the layering and merging interactions of these materials. By shaking the container, the whole scene would be rearranged, this relates to the immense tectonic processes that happen over millions of years giving rise to various mountains and landforms. The coloured dyes show how areas that were once distinguished would merge and expand over time relating to the impacts of erosion and the slow process of rivers and streams distributing sediment and colours across the landscape. Recording these experiments with video allowed me to take snapshots throughout the process. When arranged these photos produce a timeline of ambiguous landforms as they change over time. Beginning this process, I knew that I wanted to explore the relationship between sand and water, however I did not know exactly how or what the outcome would be. It was during the physical process of ‘making’ when ideas about the evolution of landforms and how this experiment might lead to potential explorations relating to a specific site were formed in my mind. This is when the phrase ‘making is thinking’ (Sennet, 143, p. X) became to me most profound.

‘The making of a map involves not only the production of visual notations but also the organisations of systems and decisions about what kinds of notations can and should be made’ (Simon, 2012, p. 66). Understanding that there is careful process of selection used to create maps, I set about to reorganise a map according to land use. Dissecting a plan of a previous landscape project into a grid, I grouped together sports areas, water bodies, and the surrounding roads. The resulting arrangement indicates a completely different set of relationships to the original. I can assess the rearranged site as data noticing the quantity of edge conditions which exist around the park as compared to sports areas or the relationship between tree cover and water bodies. Although carefully orchestrated, through this process it became clear that when it comes to maps ‘there is no definitive prescription for how any element or quality is depicted’ (Simon, 2012, p. 67). Reconstructing maps according to a different prescription then was originally intended, in this case according to land use, gives the opportunity for a new array of information to be interpreted. The next stage was to figure out how this technique of dissection can be applied to one of my ambiguous maps. These images were not deliberately orchestrated like traditional maps to fulfill a specific role, for example a contour map shows the topographic qualities of a site, but on the contrary, could evoke multiple readings. In other words, how might I restructure an image that had no fixed structure to begin with? As mentioned previously in this text in the same way that the materials and process used to create images can give insight into how to interpret them this knowledge can also be used to dissect them. The sand, water and dye experiments when shaken relate to the intermingling of these materials in the natural environment through erosion and waterways. With this in mind, I dissected the image according to streams I could make out on the surface. In doing this I learnt about the landscape characteristics; I noticed where and what the type of movement is happening in the image and where the streams lead which also influences the movement of colour. Furthermore, by projecting the positive and negative of the image as shadows, the random shapes of the streams are more clear. Highlighting the potential of maps to ‘reveal aspects of the world, both as physically encountered and imaginatively projected’

Landscape Plan.

Sediment in the Betisboka River.

(Simon, 2012 , p. 61).

A timeline of a changing landscape. (Sand, Dye, Water)

The capturing of these ambiguous experiments via photography creates an image which may also be considered as a map. In doing so enables the methods of cartographic interpretation and production to be applied to ambiguous imagery. This extends the potential for re-drawing and remaking to produce new or accentuate previous relationships that exist within the works. (Paraphrase, Simon, 2021)

Disecting into streams.

Projections of the disections using shddows.

After being able to recognise the relationships between my ambiguous creations and the landscape, the next stage was to direct the scope of these productions towards a specific site or proposal. I chose the Anglesea River catchment area as it was familiar to me and contained several interesting points of connections to the river. I recognised that some of the materials and techniques discovered through the initial explorations could also be used to simulate processes happening in Anglesea. Such as the closure of the river mouth due to sediment build-up as shown below. Although still ambiguous by carrying out these simple simulations I can start to appreciate the magnitude and intricacies that exist for these processes to occur in real life.

The closure / sediment build up at the river mouth

Water run off flowing over the coal / pyrite layer creating acidity.

Physical terrain modeling over terrain map

Disturbance of acid sulfate soils and geological rock layer.

Tea tree Marshes - run off causes acidity in waterway

A Collection of Ambiguous Mappings. Shadow of sediment inside container.

Another way to direct the scope of these ambiguous works towards a specific site or proposal is to learn from the approach of other landscape practitioners. Dermot Foley’s design research thesis responds to a central question of ‘How can landscape architects make drawings with preciseness that at the same time emulate the vagueness of materials and processes peculiar to landscape’ (Foley, 2019, p.7) This concept intertwines within the very nature of ambiguity. Which can be vague, alluding to multiple readings and, as I was starting to grapple with could also become more precise or defined. This is revealed as ambiguous techniques/materials/process can be used to replicate moments from a site or can be applied to a specific site or design. I started to reflect on how the landscape around Anglesea was positioned in this way. A major study of Foleys was interpreting geometry and I noticed how the contours of Anglesea existed as very precise data when read as a set to identify a three-dimensional landscape but when these contours were exploded, a very different two dimensional perhaps ambiguous set of data is created. From this flattened version the distribution of earth can be understood according to individual layers as well as similarities between the geometric shapes of the landscape. Foley’s thesis also found the use of found materials in design scenarios ‘to facilitate the partly known processes of change’ particularly when they are ‘composed in particular ways’ (Foley, 2019, p. 10). This link between found materials (vague) when arranged (precise) in such a way to create change is something I begin to explore further as I experiment with the natural material of sand and a ‘found’ machined board with holes so that it formed a grid.

Another landscape practitioner whose approach helped to unpack some of the relationships occurring in my site was Jason Ho. Jason’s thesis ‘Living on the Line: A Search for Shared Landscapes,’ aims to identify the locations of boundaries in Chinese communities and then propose alternative relationships between people and these borders. I could similarly identify several boundaries which occur on my site with the decommissioned open cut coal mine being one of the most significant one. After doing so I could begin to use the spaces between these boundaries to start to weave and connect the site together (see picture C below). Although what struck me most about Jason’s thesis was not the physical boundaries, he discovered but the experiential dilemma of the challenge he faced, for although Jason admits that ‘as a child, the boundary wall was the thing I hated most,’ he also understands that to his grandma the wall ‘has become part of her everyday life and brings her joy’ (Ho, 2014, p. 6). This difference of experience is also relevant to why I chose the site in Anglesea. As a kid we would often swim in the Anglesea river but with the effects of the water flowing out from the coal mine and other issues the river turned acidic and not safe for swimming. The river exists to me as a boundary that I used to experience in a certain way but now due to changes in the landscape my experience is changed. This opinion is paramount to my design response as I attempt to resolve this issue and make the river a safe, sustainable environment. However I must be aware that when it comes to considering boundaries on site such as the river people experience them in different ways. Through this text ambiguity has seen to emit different experiences and responses, I question whether it may be used as a tool in this design scenario, to allow for the different experiences of boundaries. When it came time to present design iterations for my site, I experimented with connecting boundaries by overlaying my ambiguous creations over them.

Having explored and reprocessed data from my site at this stage I understood that the main drivers of my project was the relationship between the water, the topography, and the mine. I directed my ambiguous experiments to simulate these relationships using water & dyes to model the flow of water combined with sand to mimic topography and landforms whilst these interactions took place over a machined grid to emulate the artificial presence of the mine. The photographed images were a result of printing paper both on top of and below the surface of the machined grid. This aimed to capture both the ‘random’ sand & water mix that made it through the ‘machined’ holes and the material that stayed on the surface. You can see the slurping effect the holes have as the water gathering over them pulls the paper down revealing the uniform circular shape of the holes.

A collection of images showing the printing, capturing and projecting process.

Applying these ambiguous outcomes over the mine site evoked a range of design iterations. The colours and containment of water led me to examine the relationship of terrace farming in mountainous regions of Asia with the possibility for an agricultural use of the mine walls.

Overlaying design sketch on ambiguous image.

Rice pady terraces in Yuanyang , China.

Reconstucting the mine wall using agricultural terraces.

Using diagrams alongside ambiguous constructs is as an important tool. It helps to strip down these often complex relationships between material and process to there most essential. Similarly, by overlaying linework on top of these images I can find links between complex shapes and textures to legible forms. This technique also has the possibility to incorporate drawings or shapes from a site for example a section. Thus, revealing new relationships between the site and the process of creation.

In the below translations from ambiguous images to design scenario, I have begun by identifying the areas on the board in which all colour and particles of sand have disappeared down the nearest circular hole. This creates a series of ‘random’ shapes that I have then rearranged as wetlands on the mine site. The second image uses lines to connects these ‘holes’ or drain points to one another. This creates a series of paths or structures that can be used to navigate the wetland site. These straight lines begin to connect the mine site with the township.

New topographies and potential power export.

The Translations above use the juxtaposition between the gridded holes and the chaotic shapes to propose changes to the topography of the landscape. This relationship presents a way to implement modifications to the ground that has reference to both the artifical and natural elements of the site. Below, I use the straight geometry as a reference to sea level on the site accentuating the processes occuring below the ground.

Ambiguous translations .

Section through Anglesea

Understanding how the inscriptions in my ambiguous works are formed is a key component to applying these creations to a design site. For across the course of the semester as the relationships occurring in site and areas of interest to me have developed to become more defined, so have my ways of working. Beginning with an interest in the material of sand, I experimented with manipulating sand on a flat surface, next gathering an interest in streams and the flows of sediment I moved to add water, I then added a container and dyes to mimic landforms and large catchments, I finally added a man-made intervention with uniform holes emulating the artificial presence of the mine on my study site. Across this sequence of experiments there are clues for applying the ambiguous outcomes to a design site. It may be as vague as connecting a material, a texture or even a colour to an element on site or it may be a more deliberate application according to a process occurring on site, for example the flow of water across the mine wall. New information or ambiguous relationships can be extracted from traditional modes of maps by applying methods of dissection and projection. Similarly, by classifying ambiguous images as maps, a new set of associations is also created. As the use of technology increases, designers are moving away from tactile engagements with site and material. Increasingly, ‘the landscape architect rarely has the opportunity to significantly touch and mould the landscape as it plays out in response to intervention.’ However, through the course of this seminar I have found that the concept of ambiguity can be used as a tool to help mediate this gap. Using tactile materials designers can access creative responses influencing new relationships, suggestions and associations. Simple experiments can even be made without first reference to site, or can exist by noticing a pattern or texture on a surface, by witnessing these indistinct things the designer must start to conjure images, ideas, and connections. For this is the human response of finding meaning in abstraction. This sensory relationship is what has the potential to separate technology from natural connections and in doing so bridge the gap between the design as an artificial body which impacts the landscape as a natural one. By developing these experiments, it may also lead a design practitioner to a more refined line of enquiry into the processes that led these indistinct things to occur and how a similar process, aesthetic, mood is occurring on site. These methods all work to position practitioners more clearly within their site and the accompanying design objectives. Mountains overlooking a catchment.

References: Corner, J. (1992), Representation and landscape: Drawing and making in the landscape medium, Word & Image: A journal of Verbal/Visual Enquiry Corner, J. (2011), The Agency of Mapping: Speculation, Critique and Invention’. The Map Reader: Theories of Mapping Practise and Cartographic Representation. Eds Dodge, M, Kitchin Simon, K. (2012), Image, Territory, Picture, Map: The Slipperiness of Landscape Inscriptions Sennet, Richard. (2008), The Craftsman, New Haven: Yale University Press, Print. Leonardo da Vinci, Notebooks, accessed online via https://www.gutenberg. org/ebooks/5000 Ho, Jason. (2014), Living on the Line: a Search for Shared Landscapes, submitted as a thesis for Doctor of Philosophy, RMIT university. Foley, Dermot. (2019), Preciseness Vagueness, submitted as a thesis for Doctor of Philosophy, RMIT university. Cambridge Dictionary, (2021) accessed online via https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/ambiguity

Appendix:

experiments with water, movmeent and dye Shadows

Representing Site Mapping with site

Geological study

Applying ambigious images to site

Sediment study