Kealty Daniel by Research Led Design an Major Study Oxford Brookes

Whilst this is understood in architecture, the practices in design to concentrate on this area are thin and underwhelming in their impact of the overall design.In the attempt to instil a sense of ‘event’ and experience in architecture, I intend to apply a design process based on the approach of a film director.

D A N I E L K E A L T Y 09009239

The process of filmmaking often creates a world based on a sample selection of shattered realities, through the way it strips down architectural spaces and facades and integrates them into ‘frames’ of experience. Cinema relies upon the ‘the event’ and the actions that occur within a space.

Filmmaking as Architecural Design

If reality can be analysed in a way that makes it a tangible entity, can we develop a skillset to begin directly shaping it? Using the tools of cinema and film making, alongside theoretical principles involving reality I will investigate the fabric of one’s reality across the multitude of forms that it takes. I will analyse how architecture shapes the reality that we interact with and begin to turn it into a ‘reality gateway’.

MERGING REALITIES

The truth is that the world we see is a veil. As human beings we have a limited capacity to interpret the world we inhabit. Our lives are defined by the limitations of our senses, binary vision that creates the illusion of perspective and other senses that give us access to a small fraction of the elements of the known universe. With all of these limitations we often find that we fail to understand reality in its entirety, ignoring the things that we do not see or the experiences that we are unaware of.

MERGING REALITIES Filmmaking as Architecural Design DANIEL KEALTY 09009239

MERGING REALITIES 1

Merging Realities Filmmaking as Architectural Design

SCIENCE FICTION 2

Science Fiction Nature of the Film

FILM 3

Director as Architect

Alfred Hitchcock

Andrei Tarkovsky

Filmmaking as Architectural Design

The Director of the Home

The Lost Soul

22 28 38

SATORI 6

Satori

Japanese Film

Journey of Enlightenment

Ritual Film

52 60

GHOST IN THE SHELL 8

Ghost in the SHell Mamoru Oshii

OSHII’S HOUSE 9

Oshii’s House

Crushtropolis

Demons and Daemons

Through a Glass Darkly

Oshii’s House

A Home for a Film Director

Designing a City

Identity Revealed

Architectectural Realisation

76 82 106 122 134

CONCLUSION 14

Conclusion

Bibliography

Film Director as Architect

158 166

MERGING REALITIES Filmmaking as Architectural Design

The principle of this research is to investigate architectural practice from the viewpoint of a film director, and how this changes the perceptions of spatial inhabitation. The experience of space within cinema is an abstract form, often broken down and analysed through understanding the use of cameras and the ‘framing’ effect this has on reality. Juhani Pallasmaa in her book The Architecture of Image: Existential Space in Cinema (2007) uses the tools of filmmaking, alongside theoretical principles, to investigate the fabric of one’s reality to determine how to implement these concepts architecturally. This poses a question; can the methods of filmmaking be used as a way of producing architecture, merging the roles of the architect and the director to create a transdisciplinary design process?

1 Looking at the world through a lense. How does our preception of the world alter when it is runrned into a cinematic space?

MERGING REALITIES Filmmaking as Architecural Design

As human beings we have a limited capacity to interpret the world we inhabit, a veil that is defined by the limitations of our senses, binary vision that creates the illusion of perspective and other senses that allow us to experience fraction of the known universe. With all of these limitations we often find that we fail to understand reality in its entirety, ignoring the things that we do not see or the experiences that we are unaware of. Reality is often described as a metaphysical entity that is comprised from the human rationalisation of the world. Due to the ambiguous nature of reality, how can we begin to manipulate it to reflect the world we aspire to live in? The experience of the metaphysical is often analysed in film and the way in which cinema successfully abstracts reality, distorting the world our experience of the real. If film can successfully alter reality in this fashion, can it also be dissected architecturally? The experiences and teachings that comprise our lives create our sense of reality, making its distinctive to the individual and as such it becomes difficult to grasp as an entity. When contrasting the differences between our personal realities it becomes clear that the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;substanceâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; of that reality changes, essentially forming a view of the world that is distinct to every individual. However, some aspects of our lives impact our sense of reality, and which of these takes prominence over the others? This dissertation proposes that our sense of reality can be made manipulated in the physical world through an Introduction

experience of architectural non-reality. In researching this subject I intend to understand the concepts of reality, and discover how it can be experienced in a spatial environment. I will analyse how architecture shapes the reality that we interact with and begin to turn it into a ‘reality gateway’. If reality can be analysed in a way that makes it a tangible entity, can we develop a skillset to begin directly shaping it? The principle of this research is to investigate architectural practice from the viewpoint of a film director, and how this changes the perceptions of spatial inhabitation. The experience of space within cinema is an abstract form, often broken down and analysed through understanding the use of cameras and the ‘framing’ effect this has on reality. Juhani Pallasmaa in her book The Architecture of Image: Existential Space in Cinema (2007) uses the tools of filmmaking, alongside theoretical principles, to investigate the fabric of one’s reality to determine how to implement these concepts architecturally. This poses a question; can the methods of filmmaking be used as a way of producing architecture, merging the roles of the architect and the director to create a transdisciplinary design process? The architecture of today is fixated on the aesthetic of ‘the image’, in which a project is created by producing a drawing or a render, failing to design anything that can be truly ‘experienced’. Designing architecture through the eyes of a director has a specific purpose, to design space through narrative structure and specifically address the inhabitation of a structure. The ‘experience’ of space comes from the events and the actions that occur within it, and whilst the architecture profession acknowledges this, its impact on the overall design is underwhelming. In the attempt to instil a sense of ‘experience’ in architectural design, I intend to create a form of design process that is based on the approach of a film director, a process inspired by the theories of The Wrong House (2007) by Steven Jacobs, who takes a particular interest in the idea of perceiving Alfred Hitchcock as an architect. The design process will investigate the way in which cinema tackles issues of inhabitation within architectural spaces, allowing the design to form from the narratives occurring within the architecture, causing a new architectural form to be created that translates the experience of cinematic space into physicality.

The genre of science-fiction (SF) is particularly effective in the way in which it distorts reality, and is a useful cinematic tool to use in re-evaluating the reality we live in. Although themes of SF can appear to be examples of hypothetical futures, in actuality this is not the case. SF uses fictional futuristic settings to produce a view of an ‘alternate reality’, one that takes the abstract nature of our current reality, and translates this into visual form. Humanity is unable to definitively state what exactly reality is, however, we are more than capable of understanding how to manipulate it to challenge our perception of ‘the real’. This is because of the personal effect reality has on the individual, distorting our identity in an uncertain world.

The Stalker continues to negate ‘The Zone’ on his spiritual path, traversing the many architectural voids of Tarkovsky.

SF will be used to investigate how it has manipulated our sense of identity and how this has altered the way in which we experience domesticity in the architecture of the home. Architecture and Science Fiction Film: Philip K.

2 The cast of Rope (1948) utilising Hitchcock’s magnifiscent architectural apartment masterpiece.

Dick and the Spectacle of the Home will be used to critically analyse Fontin’s (2011) statement of how SF has affected the nature of the home, corrupting its purpose in a technological society, drawing upon the theories of the semiotics nature of reality, found in Baudrillard’s (1985) analysis of ‘the virtual’ in Simulacra and Simulation and his ideas of ‘hyperreality’ in a visual consumer driven society. This discussion of the home will lead to the design of a project that focuses on reimagining the domestic dwelling. In this investigation of implementing the directorial processes of film with architectural design I aim to better understand the nature of physical reality that is presented in a metaphysical way through discussing a number of theoretical and practical aspects of film. The analysis of film will span across a number of key directors and genres to develop the understanding of how film creates existential spaces, and investigate what methods a director uses to create this cinematic dimension. Jacob’s The Wrong House (2007) discusses the idea that Alfred Hitchcock was in fact an architect, and that his directorial strategies worked best in their architectural forms present in his films. The works of Hitchcock and his development of architectural space will be analysed to develop filmic architectural processes, investigate the nature of architectural domesticity, and the use of montaging to convert the filmic entity of a city into an architectural proposition. The cinema of Andrei Tarkovsky is profound in the way that it deals with concepts of identity and belonging, reflecting the directors own struggle to define who he is. Tarkovsky’s directorial technique is derived from the philosophical understanding of the arts, referring to the process of filmmaking as that of making poetry and that there is no other purpose to his films beyond this. The films are highly metaphysical and often result in the creation of unique architectural spaces that reflects the struggle we all feel to find belonging in the world. In order to develop a cinematic method to address the nature of identity, Tarkovsky’s cinema will be analysed with a focus on his thematic directorial style, such as his use of temporal distortions and poetic spaces delineated in his book Sculpting in Time (1989). Tarkovsky’s method of filmmaking is something that he likens to the nature of haiku, a form of Japanese poetry. Haiku’s creation stems from the philosophies of Shinto and the concept of ‘satori’, which translated means enlightenment. Tarkovsky states that his journey to find his identity is one that reflects the nature of finding satori.

Introduction

To develop the relationship between reality and identity I will investigate the presence of satori in Japanese filmmaking and its associated cultural and spiritual practices. These arts often rely upon being at peace, finding a harmony between one’s mind and body. The philosophical connotations in these practices give meaning and purpose to the practitioner and produce a focused reality that forms a spiritual connection to the world. These methodologies will be used to develop a spiritual connection between humanity and the home, redefining our sense of spirituality architecturally. Using Japanese culture as a framework, I will analyse the structure of these disciplines to critically assess Japanese film makers and their perception of reality in order to develop my research into manipulating architecture. In the translations of these concepts I will look at the written works of Tsunetomo and his writings in Hagakure (1979), which reflects on Bushido and the relevance of the samurai teachings in a Japan where war was no longer prevalent. This will cover the philosophies inherent in the practice of martial arts, Aikido and the Dynamic Sphere (Ratti, 1970), traditionalism in Japanese culture and the foundations of the religious connotations of ShintoBuddhism in Japan through its impact on Japanese history and architecture. In 1995 Mamoru Oshii directed Ghost in the Shell (GitS), a SF cyberpunk film that deals with philosophical concepts of identity which is told through an existential architectural narrative. GitS (1995) is inspired by numerous philosophies of Eastern and Western origin, SF, and Japanese culture, creating a film that is exceptionally influential in its presentation of space and architectural reality. It discusses a number of theoretical areas that reference the works of Milton; Plato, Dawkins, Descartes, Ryokuu and Buddha, all of which make statements that focus on the ambiguous nature of identity in a complex technological world. Oshii uses his sequel film Innocence (2004) to question how humanity is represented through bodily form, referencing Hans Bellmer’s dolls to create a setting to discuss these theories. GitS (1995) will be used as a case study to analyse metaphysical concepts of identity through film and animation. From this, a design project will be developed in an attempt to apply Oshii’s directorial techniques to the process of architectural design. The project will be called ‘Oshii’s house: A home for a film director’, and will focus on adapting Oshii’s oeuvre into architectural spaces that form create a sense of filmic non-reality and to develop a spiritual flow around the inhabitant, reaffirming their sense of identity within the home.

4 Major Kusanagi: Become flesh in the transition from storybaord to fully rendered image

Introduction

SCIENCE FICTION A Place Called Home

â&#x20AC;&#x153;Using the real world as its starting point, the science-fiction genre creates alternative, radically different and hypothetical worlds, inspired by the conventions of science. As applied to architecture, science fiction is an imaginative form of design that interprets a fictional vision into a strategy for approaching a new problem, or inventing for future communities.â&#x20AC;? (Armstrong, 1999, p.20)

Science Fiction

5 Future Disaser: The worlds of SF are far removed from our own, but are they. Do they merely show the hidden ruinouse form of our societyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s soul.

SCIENCE FICTION A Place Called Home

The development of film and cinema over the past century has developed both the understanding of reality and augmented the attributes present in SF mythology. This is ever present in the Star Trek (1966) series created by Gene Roddenberry. The story focused on the discovery of new worlds and civilisations, but ever more important to Roddenberry was the society that he was desperately attempting to portray, one in which all genders and species of sentient life were regarded as equal. SF is not limited to depictions of futuristic worlds based on technological advances, many of the philosophical aspects draw from contemporary issues. In essence SF produces an alternate fictional reality of the one that we current exist in. These stories are not of hypothetical futures; rather they address modern day conflicts in a visual arena that has no limitations. As Oshii (2004) states, “the future I describe in the movies is actually not the future, it’s the present, so if the future in the movies looks very dark and very sad, unfortunately, that’s the way our present is”. Kuhn uses the film Alien (1979) as a prime example of how SF translates ideologies through cinema. In a similar contrast to the assessments of capitalist culture described by Baudrillard (1975), Ridley Scott’s film depicts the meaninglessness of life in a future society driven by material desires and technology has become the driving force behind human development, paradoxically stripping any sense of humanity from it. This is where SF takes a critical theory from a philosophical source and experiments with it on a human scale.

Science Fiction

These films pose the question, how long will it be before humanity can be accepted as a ‘commodity’? As bizarre as this notion is, it is not uncommon throughout history to regard people as objects, seen in humanity’s obsession with slavery (which still continues to this day).In reference to Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979), “’the creature is, in fact, an embodiment of nature as perceived by corporate capitalism, and by evolutionary science whose emphasis on competition is a manifestation of capitalist ideology” (Kuhn, 1990, p.40). This idea can also be seen in Moon (2009), directed by

Duncan Jones, in which a mining station is run by a single man who has been cloned by the ‘company’. Much like any broken piece of equipment in capitalist culture, once the product has become incapable of efficiently operating, it is quickly and easily replaced by an identical model. In essence, these cinematic techniques of SF become a dark mirror in which, we as the viewer, see the darkness in our humanity.

6 The landscape portrayd in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982). A slick futurustic city that identifies with its past, retaining the essence of L.A.

The SF narrative reveals through film the way in which our reality has become corrupted through the capitalistic ideologies values of society, but in what ways does this affect us architecturally? The architecture profession is becoming ever more fixated on the development of new methods of fabrication, and focusing on social, environmental and economic factors. Due to this focus, there has been a significant reduction on the existential and ethical inquiry of just what architecture should be. Fontin (2011) proposes that the SF genre can become this tool in experimenting with how we deal with issues of memory, consciousness, time, and the home.

Fontin (2011, p.206) discusses the ambiguity of the word ‘home’ in SF media, describing how the word has begun to lose its meaning as an architectural space, using an example in Ridley Scott’s assertion of the home in Blade Runner (1982) in which a replicants “home is a memory implant to comfort her, to allow her to be controlled by the corporation,

which hence erases the reality of home for her. The home in Blade Runner is repeatedly revealed as a delusion which can only exist as nostalgia or impossible utopias”. The link between consumer society and the home highlight how our invasive culture has

infiltrated our most personal attributes, seen in fiction such as the Fight Club (1999) and the depiction of the ‘Ikea Man’, where capitalist consumer culture is using architecture as just one of its many ‘trends’. SF is suggesting that the consumer nature of our society is alienating the population through stripping away the identity of the individual, with people themselves evolving into yet another ‘trend’. This feeling of alienation arises when the home is not reflective of the inhabitant. Fontin (2011) analyses the presentation of Quaid’s home in Total Recall (1990), highlighting that he feels isolated and confined when he is at home, as if the home is preventing from him ‘becoming somebody’. It is argued that the home of Total Recall (1990) displays elements inherent in Baudrillard’s concept of ‘simulated truth’. The promise of using technology as a way to ‘better’ humanity, and simply to offer ‘more’, portrays the idea that simulation is ‘more’ than reality, that the image of the spectacle is far greater than anything one can experience naturally (Fontin, 2011). From a Marxist position, Jameson (2005) argues that the capitalist culture has largely eliminated the opportunity for criticality in Western culture, removing the inspiration to challenge the contemporary, and simply moving on regarding any such ideas as ‘fantastical’. Fontin (2011) compares these ideas with those of Koolhaus, who suggested that the ever progressing consumer culture is producing ‘junkspace’, and that this resulting in a 7 The Ikea man of tday depicted in Fight Club (1999). Can we prevent ourselves from becoming one of the next capitalist trends?

Science Fiction

‘junkitecture’ that is creating a blurred vision of the society we inhabit. Philip K. Dick offers a future vision of how technology will alter domesticity in a positive way, yet often in his stories, the positivity arises from the example of how the negative impacts affect his characters. Fontin (2011, p.209) argues that the technological revolution has the same problem as consumer culture, that progression and inspiration will become a product of whatever is released as the newest ‘fad’. “While technology has the capacity

to enhance human existence as the transhumanists argue, it is precisely when it works against self-initiated change that it becomes detrimental because the ‘change’ or ‘becoming’ is then dependant on the newest upgrade or release by the manufacturer and no longer on any individual pursuit or intent”.

SF addresses these issues in the fantastical settings of its narrative, a technique comparable to Bachelard’s (1994) idea of the ‘oneiric house’, a space of dream-memory that is stored inside the mind of every individual. This presents SF with the paradox of how to balance the use of technology in the home. In an ever developing communicative world the boundaries of the home are distorting as we speak. So how do we develop a home that is mutually adaptive to the user? The solution to this argument is that the home and the inhabitant require a symbiotic relationship, one where neither become more than the other. Fontin (2011, p.210) describes this solution as a process, a ‘hermeneutic circle’, requiring the understanding that a result emerges from the sum of its parts, as each part develops meaning

from its relationship to the others. This hermeneutic circle reflects the impact of technology and the home on the individual, that “both have the capacity to disturb one’s facility to think critically, to reflect and change”. To this end, Fontin (2011, p.212) proposes the concept to think of ‘becoming home’ as opposed to ‘creating home’, that the space we call home both becomes ourselves as a continuous ‘dialogue between dweller and dwelling’, concluding with the statement that “SF reminds us that architecture is at its best when it can both celebrate the seductive allure of our technological

8-9 The virtual home, the protagonist of Minority Report (2002) interacts with the holographic images of his lost family, but does the ‘simulation’ provide anything real?

feats and the human comfort of the home, and yet also critically assess and readdress the existential opportunities in these conditions, thus allowing for our human potential to initiate change and, hence, become”.

If the home can be improved through introducing a dialogue between the user and the architecture, how would this be possible? SF films experiment with the issue of the home through abstract and narrative, therefore could it be possible to use the process of filmmaking to re-evaluate the relationship between mankind and architecture? In order to test this theory, a clear understanding of the technical aspects of the filmmaking process must achieved, testing how films negate the environment of the home both physically and metaphysically through existential cinematic space. This research will be implemented into a domestic design project, titled ‘Oshii’s House: A home for a film director’, which will attempt to assimilate the oeuvre of the SF director Mamoru Oshii to create architectural spaces that complement our humanity.

Science Fiction

FILM Director as Architect

“There are several ways of making films. Like Jean Renoir and Robert Bresson, who make music. Like Sergei Eisenstein, who paints, Kike Stroheim, who wrote sound novels in silent days. Like Alain Resnais, who sculpts. Like Socrates, Rossellini I mean, who creates philosophy. The cinema in other words, can be everything at once, both judge and litigant.’ Godard’s list of the alternative ways of film making could be expanded by one more specific mode: cinema as architecture” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.14)

Film

10 Filmmaker or Architect? Alfred Hitchcock on the set of Rope (1948), preparing to begin his shoot within a self designed collapsible partment.

DIRECTOR AS ARCHITECT Filmmaking as Architectural Design

In the endeavour to bridge the gap between architecture and film, one only has to look at the works of Alfred Hitchcock which are renowned for their cinematic style that guides a viewer through an unusual narrative, creating the ‘architecture of terror’. Although a skilled professional at directing, Hitchcock’s skills in architecture are impressive, especially in the construction of the environments that narrative takes place in. Pallasmaa (2007, p.13), a Finnish architect and academic at the Helsinki University of Technology uses Hitchcock’s films “for the purpose of discovering a more subtle and responsive architecture”. Expanding on statements from Jean Luc Godard, Pallasmaa (2007, p.14) proposes that “’There are several ways of making films. Like Jean Renoir and Robert Bresson, who make music. Like Sergei Eisenstein, who paints, Kike Stroheim, who wrote sound novels in silent days. Like Alain Resnais, who sculpts. Like Socrates, Rossellini I mean, who creates philosophy. The cinema in other words, can be everything at once, both judge and litigant.’ Godard’s list of the alternative ways of film making could be expanded by one more specific mode: cinema as architecture”.

In stark contrast with other directors, Hitchcock constructed nearly all of the scenes in which his films occur. This can be seen in the film Rope (1948) in which the entire film is shot in one apartment, made entirely on set, with collapsible walls and layout that allowed the architecture to literally orientate its form. This innovative design proposes equally interesting questionings of reality in both the real world and in a metaphysical cinematic context. Pallasmaa (2007) notes how Hitchcock lies between logic and illogic, clarity and vagueness, reality and unreality, and understanding and bewilderment. It is the medium of cinema that Hitchcock wielded effortlessly that allows him to sweep between the unseen realities of the world we live in. Hitchcock (1999, p.210) himself noted the Film

similarities between the director and the architect, referencing processes such as “the screenplay, which is sometimes known as the scenario or film script, resembles the blueprint of the architect. It is the verbal design of the finished film”. Bernard Tschumi expressed his regard for designing architecture through Hitchcock’s films, stating that “’architecture is about designing conditions, rather than conditioning designs’ and that it is ‘about identifying, and ultimately, releasing potentialities hidden in a site’. Designing architecture is a Hitchcockian activity” (Jacobs, 2007, p.15). It must be understood that although there

are many similarities between the two professions, one does not flow into the other indistinguishably. Attitudes to the generalisation of the arts have resulted in mediocrity of architecture, “The current tendency in architecture to disregard

the importance of the differences and boundaries between various artistic disciplines seems to have caused more misunderstanding and confusion than genuine artistic liberation” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.52). This failure stems from the way in which we

appropriate what we believe to be useful architectural. Perhaps the way forward is to use these disciplines for a purpose that lies outside convention architectural design processes.

Architects are architects, and although we can argue we belong to an artistic discipline we need to acknowledge that we are not artists, not musicians, and not film directors. An art form is more than just a single process or theory, simply adapting a brief into a screenplay does not bridge the gap between the architectural and filmic processes. A screenplay is a process in itself as well as being defined by the production, the script, the storyboarding etc. These things combine together to make a process that is unique. Therefore, how can we begin to adopt other disciplines that can augment the architectural design process?

Architecture’s Hump Roger Connah (2001) suggests that the architectural profession is in a state of decay, and that in order to reinvigorate the practice; many architects are seeking other artistic disciplines to redefine exactly what architecture is. Architecture by its nature is an interdisciplinary practice, but how far does its grasp on other disciplines reach? Connah (2001) suggests that architects hastily adapt other disciplines into practice, causing them to corrupt their influence on architecture and question, what exactly does an architect do? Connah (2001) references the work of John Hejduk in his book Architecture and the Pathognomic (1991), which portrays the idea that architecture is suffering from a disease, and is falling into the realm of obscurity. He describes how this disease will likely destroy the practice of architecture, but suggests that this is not necessarily something to be frightened of by providing a simple an efficient way in which this affliction can be dealt with. First is to totally ignore the situation and go about their business as if nothing has changed. Second is to do research and take an active part in combatting the disease through the ‘exploration and searching’ for a cure and the hopeful eventual eradication of the potentially dead bacteria. Finally, to gently help the discipline through its death and wait for a ‘rebirth’, the form, structure, and content of which is yet to come

One of the disciplines that he discusses is film, and how it can be used to infuse purpose into the architectural practice. In response to his earlier criticism, he describes how architects have to eagerly ‘hijacked’ the filmic disciplines and have failed to integrate it in its full capacity. The relationship between film and architecture can be used in the first, by how film informs the theoretical discourses in architecture. In the second, a more pragmatic move, film actually ‘films’ architecture. The third, the cinematic act, is a poetics. Connah (2001) recounts the messages of Le Corbusier who praised the methods of Arab architecture, how it is designed to be viewed as something active and moving as we the user pass through buildings. If architects have failed to adopt other disciplines why is this and how do we attempt to combat this ‘disease’ and redefine the architectural practice. In order to integrate film with architecture, we do not need to reinvent the concepts presented in Bernard Tschumi’s Manhattan Transcripts, instead we need to find a way in which film can affect architecture in a way other than blindly using a cinematic process to produce the same architectural drawing.

Narrative Architecture Nic Clear of the Bartlett School of Architecture has suggested that the use of video is essential in the evolution of the architectural design. In an article in Architectural Design) Clear (2006, p.105) describes how his “problem with traditional forms of architectural representation, particularly orthographic projections, is what they leave out – namely architecture as something that is experiential, performed and immersive”. This suggests that the problem with the architectural profession

is not one problem of conceptualisation, but one of visualisation.

The standard architectural method of ‘drawing’ does not account for the representation of duration and movement, repeatedly forming a static architectural proposition. Clear (2006, p.105) describes how “by using time-based media

these ideas can be addressed, although the experience of using film and animation is still a long way from emulating actual architectural space even in its most advanced filmic and virtual forms”. In this way the integration of video increases the level of detail

that is involved in the design process, causing an architect to develop a heightened sense of spatial awareness and that “students will often be making changes that are barely perceptible – adjusting a clip by a few frames, for example – yet somehow significant. While this may not have any direct relevance to how to plan a building, the development of abstract methods of thinking and skills in composition and organisation does have directly beneficial consequences no matter what kind of designer the student goes on to become” (Clear, 2006, p. 108).

The methods of filmmaking are not something that Clear believes will completely redefine the architectural design process; simply that it is an artistic technique that should be added to the design process. However, I believe that his does not utilise the full potential that video can have on design, as the use of video is not something that should be solely be used to describe the animated aspects of a building, or to develop yet ‘another’ form of drawing that includes a sense of time. What Clear suggests is that video can bring an image to life as if it was something that was experienced in reality and recorded through a camera, but this does not provide true architectural insight.

Film

This is where I believe it is necessary to distinguish that it is filmmaking, and not the use of video, that I believe can redefine architectural practice. Filmmaking has the ability to communicate the ‘experience’ of being within a space, to truly understand how the space is used in its daily use, but more than this, it can give a project narrative. The narrative process in filmmaking gives a story depth, which is reflected in the architectural sets and environments of Hitchcock’s’ films. I believe that by appropriating these directorial methods that the narrative component of film can be used to develop the existential nature of the architectures we produce, causing them to ‘become’ more than a physical construct. Introducing narrative to a project can be achieved through processes such as script writing, storyboarding, and character development. Can a new method to teach architecture be developed through integrating the narrative qualities of film design, changing the way that we conceive ideas of space and experience through the medium of cinema. This dissertation proposes to investigate whether or not an architectural design project can be produced through using the traditional methods of filmmaking. This will process will include the production of architectural narratives that will be detailed through scriptwriting and storyboarding, to the use of documentary video site analysis, and producing animations that communicate an architectural proposition. In The Wrong House (2007), Jacobs produces plans and sections of Hitchcock’s sets from reverse engineering the use of shots in his films, suggesting that the quality of architecture that Hitchcock produced did not originate from traditional architectural drawings. Hitchcock designed the ‘experience’ of space, with the forms of the building coming last in the list of architectural priorities. This questions the relevance of contemporary architectural drawings. In terms of construction it may be necessary to produce scaled site drawings with plans, sections, and elevations, but at a conceptual level, does this accurately reflect the architectural experience? This is something that should come from the implementation of narrative, and will be used to develop the brief for the Oshii’s House project.

11 Filmmaker or Architect? Alfred Hitchcock on the set of Rear Window (1954), basking in the awe of one of the largest interior sets ever made.

Film

12 Hitchcock and the cast bask in his architectural wonder of the set in Rope (1948)

ALFRED HITCHCOCK The Director of the Home

Hitchcock’s obsession with set design and location shooting has been what has led to his comparison to an architect, especially in his close collaborations with production designers that articulately detail the architectural portrayal of their inhabiting characters. This process of fusing a character into architecture can be seen as a process of self-discovery, experiencing their architectural reflection. Could analysis of Hitchcock’s domestic setting provide insight into how to fuse an inhabitant within their home? Hitchcock’s classic example of architectural creation is seen in Rope (1948) in which he produced what was essentially a collapsible apartment. The triumph of the film is the set itself, constructed entirely in the studio, its defining aspect being its collapsible nature in which large portions were dollied and suspended so that architectural elements could be moved and re-established in different shots. This emerged from Hitchcock’s filming of Rope (1948) in which the entire story unfolds in ‘real-time’, accurately portraying 80 minutes of event. Throughout the entire film a full 360 degree view is established of the set, leaving no traditionally unseen angle of the environment to be disguised by the camera. The architectural presence of the Rope set is very reminiscent of the Maison de Verre, designed by Pierre Chareau, with large mechanical systems in place to rearrange the architecture as was fit for the occasion (Pallasmaa, 2007). This mechanical aspect of the set gave the set life, and although its mechanical nature was not presented on-screen, the way it complimented the cameras movement reshaped the architectural from. The Hitchcockian home reflects the nature of Victorian style housing, in which the objects and stylings of one’s home accurately represent the inhabitant whether they are present or not. Reminiscent of the Sherlock Holmes detective novel, watching a Hitchcock film allows you to decipher the nature of the characters through their homes. “’Dwelling,’ Benjamin writes, ‘means to leave traces behind. These are stressed by the interior. Dust covers, upholsters, Film

cases, étuis, all in which the traces of everyday objects are imprinted, are invented in abundance. The traces of the inhabitants are imprinted in the interior too’” (Jacobs,

2007, p.35). The interior appears to be determined by customs which are beneficial to the interior itself rather than to the inhabitants, resulting in the home ‘becoming’ a character that shares characteristics with the inhabitant, allowing for the development of a relationship between the inhabitant and the home. Edinger (1992, p.10) suggests that “one of the

symptoms of alienation in the modern age is the widespread sense of meaninglessness … modern man’s most urgent need is to discover the reality and value of the inner subjective world, to discover the symbolic life… the symbolic life in some forms is a prerequisite for psychic health” (Edinger, 1992, p.10)

13 Dramatic scene, dramatic landscape. Hitchcock’s view of New York serves to both liberate and trap the murderous duo in Rop (1948).

Hitchcock’s architecture combats this meaninglessness through his Victorian styled set design that truly expresses character in an architectural way. The single set film represents the domestic dwelling, the single space that we inhabit from day to day. “Furthermore, the single-set films not only hypostatize the difference between inside and outside but also that between onscreen and off-screen space” (Jacobs, 2007, p.30). The architecture shapes the view of the camera and in turn, the way in which the viewer experiences space. Hitchcock’s films have been described as windows that turn the audience into a voyeur, in essence we experiences these architectural spaces through the camera and can ‘become’ inhabitants of that space. Rope’s (1948) set is based on a New York Penthouse, built with a large panoramic window that overlooks the cityscape. Despite this window however, “the penthouse is turned into a Hitchcockian claustrophobic interior. The window, in fact, provides the only escape into the public realm and it emphasizes both the intimacy and confinement of the interior” (Jacobs, 2007, p.272). The city backdrop is an essential part of the story as it has a sense of removal, isolating and trapping the characters in a seemingly inescapable space, representing the interior space as a “subjective perception, which is often threatened by reality from outside” (Jacobs, 2007, p.30). Here Hitchcock uses film as a way of exploring the terrorising nature of the modern home, arising perhaps from its alienating effect. Whilst Hitchcock’s design of the Penthouse in Rope, is meticulous and inspiring, his later film Rear Window (1954) provides the audience with something far larger and grander in terms of set design, replicating an entire courtyard inside a studio space. The film centres around the protagonist who is confined to a wheelchair in his apartment, who passes each day observing his neighbours and can be described as a ‘hybrid’ creature, that of half man, half camera (Jacobs, 2007).

14 Steven Jacobs reverse engineered plans of the apartment from Rope (1948), an unconventional design, but perfect for the cinematic environment.

15 The set is pulled appart as it shifts into a new perspective. A quality that is rarely appreciated in the production of this film.

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Jacobs (2007) describes the film as a perfect allegory of the Hitchcockian gaze with his use of ‘the frame’ carefully crafting the urban environment that links the viewer to the environment. It is a theatrical stage come to fruition as a fully tangible entity. Jacobs (2007) refers to John Belton who suggests that Rear Window has a self-conscious nature to its narrative, using the set to create a theatrical space, whilst utilising the camera shots to redefine it as cinematic space. This is referred to as the ‘Brechtian Estrangement Effect’, where Hitchcock distorts the reality in a way that its architecture appears theatrical, yet maintains its cinematic realism. “The architecture becomes an instrument of the gaze, a kind of camera obscura on an urban scale” (Jacobs, 2007, p.286)

16 The panoramic shot from Hitchcockâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Rear Window (1954), an urban stage like no other.

17 Steven Jacobs persepctive rationalisation of the film set.

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18 London calling, Hitchcockâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s neon fogged London becomes a character in itself in The Lodger (1927).

The Director of the City Hitchcock was not limited to the domestic scale in his architectural vision. He spoke of his desire to work on the city scale when he watched Dziga Vertov’s The Man with the Movie Camera (1929) and Walther Ruttman’s Berlin Symphonie einer Großstadt (1927) (Jacobs, 2007). Through analysing these films, Hitchcock described what is known as a ‘film symphony’ in which the camera is used as a tool to portray a city as an entity, using camera shots as notes in a visual composition. The film symphony has evolved from the original techniques used by Eisenstein, adapting filmic montage to describe something through the relation of shots, not solely what is articulated within them. Ideally, Hitchcock wanted to title this project London or Life of a City and to produce it in collaboration with Walter Mycroft. The idea was to describe “the story of a big city from dawn to the following dawn. I wanted to do it in terms of what lies behind the face of a city – what makes it thick – in other words, backstage of a city” (Hitchcock in McGilligan, 2003, p.42). Unlike the directorial approaches of Ruttman and Vertov, Hitchcock intended to create this film as a character, highlighting the cities ‘dark soul’, and that the filming would not have been ‘mechanised’ like Vertov, but dramatic in its depiction of the city. He likens it to the stories of the big hotel kitchens to which we can see the dark beast that drives the calm reserved exterior. Reflecting on the scale of the project, Hitchcock admitted that he would have loved to do the same project based upon New York, but that New York was “too big, too hard to get it with a camera […] I’d like to open with a scene in

the Bowery showering a bum drowsing in a saloon, a fly walking on his nose: starting with the lowest form of life in the metropolis. And I’d end up, of course, with the highest form of life, a scene the following morning in a swank nightclub, with well-dressed drunks slouching over their tables and passing out. I don’t know what the story would be in between. That’s the problem” (Hitchcock in

19 The Man with a Movie Camera, How can one man film a city? Vertov’s development of the film symphony is how, montgaing experience and scene to create an almost living form of a city.

McGilligan, 2003, p.43)

According to Jacobs (2007), Hitchcock has reinvented the city in his films through ‘the tourist gaze’. He argues that in Hitchcock films there is a clear adaptation of the Soviet montage techniques, and that the city becomes a representation by means of an Eisensteinian ‘montage of attractions’ based on psychological stimulations rather than narrative logic. In particular, Jacobs analyses the representation of Paris in Rich Film

20 Mount Rushmore destroys the terrorist plot in North by Northwest (1959), using the immense power of the monumental structure as a symbol.

and Strange (1931), in which Hitchcock balances this technique with the avante-garde style city symphony. The ‘tourist shots’ are not just a series of tourist attractions that are plastered in the film to give a sense of location, “the film becomes a kind of moving postcard collection, showing the tourist what to see and also adding the obligation of the right way to experience the landmarks by selecting viewpoints and approaches” (Jacobs, 2007, p.48). Hitchcock uses these historic places and monuments to communicate with the past and bring an essence of ‘weight’ with the sets history. Often these were connected with ideological values, such as in North by Northwest (1959) where it is Mount Rushmore itself that appears to undermine the terrorists, literally displaying the triumph of democracy, becoming a token of terrifying power.

Filmic Design Hitchcock manages to use filmmaking as a way to directly influence architectural form on a number of levels, using film symphonies, set designs, and screen plays to develop the narrative quality of space. These principles will be used in the Oshii’s House project to develop the way in which the exterior environment relates to the interior through the way it frames views, such as the way that Rope (1948) manages to create an architectural extension between the apartment and the city. The use of the film symphony could also be used as an architectural tool to develop the way in which a city is designed through the visualisation of its inhabitation. Just as Jacobs reverse engineered architectural plans of Hitchcock’s fictional structures, could designing a fictional city as a film symphony be translated into an urban masterplan that focuses on the experience of a city.

21 The Man with a Movie Camera, How can one man film a city? Vertov’s development of the film symphony is how, montgaing experience and scene to create an almost living form of a city.

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22 The protagonists of Stalker (1979) contemplate their own existence of they collapse outside of the entrance to â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;The Zoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;.

ANDREI TARKOVSKY The Lost Soul

The nature of the ‘home’ is something which Andrei Tarkovsky experimented with on a philosophical level through cinematic and narrative technique, reflecting his longing to find a place with which he could identify. “Tarkovsky’s films are about the perpetual search for home, the lost home of childhood. The tension between the notions oh ‘house’ and ‘home’ is a central motif in the life’s work of Andrei Tarkovsky as well as in the poems of his father” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.92). He always

described himself as a Russian filmmaker, The Soviet Union however, had little appreciation for his work, feeling that it undermined to their political ideologies. The party’s socialist-realism was the only acceptable form of artistic form, leaving Tarkovsky exiled from Russia. This persecution damaged him emotionally, destroying his once strong sense of cultural identity, causing him to question, where do I belong? This longing can be seen in his films Andrei Rublev (1965), Nostalgia (1983), and Mirror (1974). His cinema becomes a reflection of his journey of self-discovery, and is particularly autobiographical in nature. “The protagonist

virtually becomes my alter ego, embodying all my emotions, psychology and nature. He is a mirror image of me. I have never made a film which mirrors my own states of mind with so much violence, and liberates my inner world in such depth. When I saw the finished product I felt uneasy, as when one sees oneself in a mirror” (Tarkovsky, A. 1986 p.202). Nostalghia (1983) in particular resonates

with Tarkovsky, following the path of a Russian writer who is documenting the life of a Russian composer who committed suicide after his return home from Italy. The narrative portrays the homesick nature of the protagonist as he wrestles with his identity.

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Nostalghia (1983) becomes the visual representation of the alienation Tarkovsky feels toward his surroundings, converting these emotions into the architectural structures of his films. “In the course of my work I have noticed, time and again, that if the external emotional structure of a

film is based on the author’s memory, when impressions of his personal life have been transmuted into screen images, then the film will have the power to move those who see it” (Tarkovsky, 1986, p.65).

David Gillespie (1996, p.56) comments on how Tarkovsky attempted to adopt a number of different cultural identities, reflecting “on Russia’s national identity, in the form of its relationship with the West”. His films depict a strong desire to merge these two cultures together, in order to give him a place in the world to call home. In an attempt to find a place that he could culturally call home “in true Slavophile tradition, a homesick and despondent Tarkovskii saw the West as morally bankrupt, devoid of spirituality, and heading for catastrophe” (Gillespie, 1996, p.56). This attempt to redefine his identity ultimately fails, concluding that merging multiple cultural philosophies is not possible. In Nostalghia (1983) “he rejects the idea of mutual understanding, as he, the auteur, tries to transform the Italian landscape into something resembling Russia, just as Gorchakov, the erstwhile hero, tries to see Russia all around him” (Gillespie, 1996, p.56). This obtrusive invasion

of his Russian culture on those different to his own is depicted in the final scene of the film in which we see “the gradual merging of a Russian and Italian landscape, with Russian folk music blending

with Verdi’s Requiem in the background. External landscapes are confused, juxtaposed, but inner, psychological landscapes remain distinct, separate” (Gillespie, 1996, p.56). Nostalghia (1983) represents

Tarkovsky’s lack of identity with the final sequence of the film visually representing the failure to blend these two elements together; instead the film becomes a collection of images that reflect his inability to reinvent his Russian culture leaving him unable to find a new cultural home.

Poetic Truth Tarkovsky has a particular cinematic style, one that transcends the narrative, stating that “there is only one way of thinking in cinema: poetically” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.9). Tarkovsky suggests that poetry, like all arts, is untranslatable and that his films form from the logic of poetic thought. In The Poetics of Space (1986), he describes how “when I speak of poetry I am not thinking of it as a genre. Poetry is an awareness of the world, a particular way of relating to reality” (Tarkovsky, 1986 p.150). This poetic language is inspired by a variety of sources, but most significantly with his appreciation Haiku poems in which the strict formulation of the prose adds to the transcendental meanings of the text. In this way his films present images in such a way that they mean nothing beyond themselves. Film

23 The Russian himself, Tarkovsky’s represenetation of himself in Nostalghia (1983), lost Russian in Italy trying to find his way ‘home’.

“Whenever I declare that there are no symbols or metaphors in my films, those present express

incredulity. They persist in asking again and again, for instance, what rain signifies in my films; why does it figure in film after film; and why the repeated images of wind, fire, water? … Of course rain can just be seen as bad weather, whereas I use it to create a particular aesthetic setting in which to steep the action of the film. But that is not at all the same thing as bringing nature into my films as a symbol of something else” (Tarkovsky, 1986 p.212-213)

Although Haiku has a definitive linguistic form, it is in fact formless, both something and nothing. The suggestion here is that “Western art transforms ‘impression’ into

description. The haiku never describes; its art is counter-descriptive, to the degree that each state of the thing is immediately, stubbornly, victoriously converted into a fragile essence of appearance” (Barthes, 1970, p.76). This leaves the haiku with the function “to achieve exemption from meaning within a perfectly readerly discourse” (Barthes, 1970, p.81).

Tarkovsky’s films represent the concept of the ‘journey’, in which he uses a film to document his search to rediscover his identity. Although a number of his films portray this as a loss of cultural heritage, there is also a spiritual essence to this journey. He describes this spiritual nature in the way that he directs his films to have no other purpose than to ‘become’ a film. This spiritual journey can be seen in Stalker (1979) which depicts a society after it has experienced a cataclysmic event that has created an area which people call ‘The Zone’. It is rumoured that in ‘The Zone’ there is a place called ‘The Room’ and that this place defies the conventional laws of physics and will grant whoever enters their deepest desire. In this setting we are introduced to three characters that each represents a concept or philosophy. There is the ‘Writer’ a journalist, the ‘Scientist’ a physicist and the ‘Stalker’, a man who specialises in navigating ‘The Zone’. Whilst in ‘The Zone’ the characters elaborate on why they have journeyed here and what it is they intend to do once they reach ‘The Room’ and the philosophical implications their desires have on themselves and society. Reflecting on his work, Tarkovsky (1986, p.73) states that he conveys his personal truths through cinema as a process of enlightenment, stating that “the task of art is to prepare one for death, soften and mould his soul and turn it towards good”. He suggests that the arts are unselfish endeavours that aspire to greater things, regardless of the society they emerge from, “and so art, like science, is a means of assimilating the world, an instrument for knowing it in the course of man’s journey towards what is called ‘absolute truth’” (Tarkovsky, 1986, p37). Like the concept hyperreality described 42

24-26 Left: A poetic montage of flowing shots in Stalker (1979), turning a dream sequence into a spitirual experience for both the protagonist and the audience.

27 The landscape portrayd in Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner (1982). A slick futurustic city that identifies with its past, retaining the essence of L.A.

by Baudrillard (1983), art lies in the indefinable realm of concept and theory, layering metaphysical ideas to reveal the knowledge of the universe that is ‘hidden’ from us, this artistic truth is one that endeavours to find meaning. These films acknowledge that in reality there is no such thing as truth, as this would suggest that there is a definitive end to a spiritualistic journey. Tarkovsky’s poetic styles of film acknowledge that his ‘journeys’ do not have an end, and that the journey was begun knowing that no ending would ever be found. As the Stalker guides his companions he reflects on the qualities of what is needed to be a good man. “When a man is born, he is weak

and flexible, when he dies he is hard and insensitive. When a tree is growing, it’s tender and pliant, but when it’s dry and hard, it dies. Hardness and strength are death’s companions. Pliancy and weakness are expressions of the freshness of being. Because what has hardened will never win” (Stalker, 1979).

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Moments within Water Tarkovsky’s films are often littered with elements of fire, air, earth and water, which are all presented with symbolic and mythological significance. During one scene in Stalker (1979), the protagonist takes rest on a small island of foliage amongst a bog. Often in scenes that predominantly feature water; they become stages for reflection in which a character discovers something about their self on the journey to ‘The Room’. Baudrillard (1996, p.5) suggests that “the memory of water, along with the indivisibility of particles and the black hole hypothesis (there being a secret correspondence between all these things), is the greatest gift science has made to the imagination in recent times. Even if this function remains eternally improbable, it is true, from now on, as a metaphor for the mind”.

Like a maze of memories, the film uses scenes of water to distinguish between events, creating a flow between them. The water is emblematic of ‘The Zone’ as it carries the characters along their journey, using its spiritual connotations to cleanse the errors of the character’s pasts. As Bachelard (1983 p.5) argues “Water is a complete poetic reality”. Pallasmaa (2007, p.65) analyses Tarkovsky’s films as an act of active remembering, stating that the use of water in his films is particularly effective in its ability to mediate themes of life and death, especially in the way that water affects the interpretation of time. “In a word, the image is not a certain meaning, expressed by the director, but an entire world reflected as in a drop of water”. It is argued that water is a visual medium of condensed time, that its hypnotising ripples and drops seduce the viewer into a timeless state in which we become somehow separated from the chronology of the narrative (Pallasmaa, 2007). Scenes in both Stalker (1979) and Nostalghia (1983) incorporate abstracted scenes of water that allow the protagonist to experience something outside of reality, like a spirit that guides our characters through an unintentional pilgrimage. In both of these films, there is a common scene in which the protagonists have reached a philosophical realisation about themselves. Nostalghia (1983) uses rain to permeate the protagonist’s accommodation in order to strip it of functionality and identity, whilst using pools of water in dreamlike scenes of abstracted meanings, these pools are used to distort the effect time has on the audience so that they can absorb the philosophical connotations of the dream. A similar scene can be found in Stalker (1979) in which the protagonists collapse in a rain drenched sequence having failed to find the courage to enter ‘The Room’. 44

Tarkovsky’s creates this temporal distortion through the use of ‘long shots’. In Stalker (1979), the story unfolds as a series of events that are depicted in real time, “Deleuze suggests that Tarkovsky’s interpretation of time and how it flow through the shot is essentially through tension and rarefaction – the pressure of time in the shot” (Riley, 2008, p59). Even though the journey through ‘The Zone’ is not filmed in its entirety, the scenes that are presented unfold as though they were being observed in real time. The effect of this is to make the film a composition of real life moments, as if they were being recalled as memories. “If you through even a cursory glance into the past...you are struck every time by the singularity of the events in which you took part” (Tarkovsky, 1989, p.105).

This presents the audience with what Tarkovsky views as a cinematic representation of reality. It implies that if we are a product of the key moments of our lives, our consciousness is comprised of a fragmented assemblage of thoughts and meanings. Baudrillard (1979) proposes that this composition of a multitude of signs and meanings are what creates the consumerist society and that it is formed from our own creations of reality.

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Left: The backdrop to a philosophical discussion in Stalker (1979), flowing continuously without rest.

The permeable structure of the architecture allows the rainfall to ldrench the interior, creating poetic images of flowing water in an otherise empty scene

Architectural Voids In a reversal with Hitchcock, the interior spaces that Tarkovsky creates are often derelict and worn, leaving the inhabitant appear completely alienated from the architecture, “as the architecture of Alfred Hitchcock creates spaces of terror, so do Andrei Tarkovsky’s rooms convey feelings of longing” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.25). In this style, Tarkovsky creates architectural ‘tabula rasa’, a blank slate in which the architecture has no identity; however there is a distinct purpose to this design, his architectures become spaces which absorb and reflect the personality of the characters that inhabit them. “He allows erosion and mould to corrode the walls, rain penetrate the roof and water flood the floor, he takes away the building’s mask of utility, which addresses our reason and common sense. He removes the inaccessible and rejecting perfection of the building, and reveals the vulnerability of its structures, conceived for eternity. Time is grafter into space and matter. He makes the viewer invest his/her feelings and empathy in the naked structure” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.27) 30 The industrial landscape. A visual reminder of the desolation and destruction that rapid industrialisation has on a society.

Tarkovsky creates symbiosis between his characters and the environment, reflecting Fontin’s (2011) comments on the nature of the home in the works by Philip K. Dick. This process achieves a symbiosis without the need to integrate technological developments with the home, though the spaces constructed by Tarkovsky are far from what one would call ‘homely’. There is also a distinct need in his films for the home to be found outside of the city, that in order to discover ‘the home’ one must literally find their ‘roots’. Gillespie (1996, p.55) comments how that in Nostalghia (1983) “urban lifestyles are consistently contrasted with the lives of simple people from the village. The village and the countryside are more wholesome, morally pure, than the city; people from the city have sold their souls in exchange for spurious material benefits. Moreover, the village is the repository of age-old customs and values, it is where the national character itself is rooted. In short, the village is Russia, and the move to urbanisation is disaster” (Gillespie, 1996,

p.55). It is here that we see Tarkovsky’s belief that spiritual development stems from the pureness of cultural ritual, something that he strove to find his entire life.

The experimentation with the existential basis of space and architecture in Tarkovsky’s films appear to reflect the search for the soul, to discover its shape through understanding the history and identity that shapes the individual. “Tarkovsky’s architecture is an unforeseen chamber music of space, light and slowed time” 46

(Pallasmaa, 2007, p.29), and that its purpose is “to awake something in a person who has something inside him to be awakened” – Tarkovsky citing Socrates (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.91). Tarkovsky’s architecture becomes a temple in which the space itself absorbs, and then mirrors our souls. Pallasmaa argues that “the homelessness of the modern man has even a metaphysical dimension; a godless man is fundamentally a traveller

31 The Writer pauses outside the entrance of ‘The Room’, The ruinous structure of Tarkovsky’s films focus on the character in wuestion with no distractions

without a destination, without an ultimate spiritual home. Buildings are monuments and road signs on this journey of distancing, alienation and outsideness” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.31). The filmic process in which Tarkovsky creates these environments

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32 Right: The poetic voids of Andrei Tarkovsky. The image makes the event more powerful if even in reality the spaces presented are incredibly uneventful

“through images of space, matter, light, and time they evoke an experience of pure existence. The metaphysical poetry of being” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.65). When discussing the prerequisites for delving into the theoretical aspects of the nature of truth, Baudrillard (1996, p.65) describes that “The absolute precondition for thought is the creation of a void [faire le vide], for in the void the most distant objects are in radical proximity. In the void, and body whatever, whether celestial or conceptual, shines out with a silent abstraction”. It is here where Stalker (1979) is most successful, ‘The Zone’ is an effective architectural void created through the cinematic techniques of framing the landscape and portraying the interactions between the characters providing the narrative with the perfect setting to flourish. In order to redefine the concept of the home, Fontin’s (2011) argument suggested that not only did this process require a symbiotic relationship, but also that it addressed the issue of how to assert our individuality in capitalistic society. Architecturally, there is no place that should inform our sense of identity more than the home, however, Tarkovsky suggests that the ‘home’ is not a physical construct, and can be anything that defines us, whether this is something cultural or not. He builds his ‘homes’ through artistic meaning, they literally become a spiritual journey or process by which one attempts to better their self, with his films creating the architecture of this ‘journey’. It is his cinema’s lack of agenda that allows for the development of these journeys, as they have no definitive messages or metaphorical concepts that delineates how one reaches enlightenment. These architectural spaces of his films are created from the poetic philosophy of being and do not channel his personal spiritualistic beliefs, they merely provide a metaphysical platform to which an audience can asks the same questions as the protagonists and allowed to reach their own conclusions. The development of the Oshii’s House brief requires that I delineate a process by which the architecture should reassert our sense of identity, and through examining the spiritual journeys of Tarkovsky’s films, I believe that this function can be achieved through integrating the design with the Zen philosophy inherent in the Haiku poems that inspire his cinematic creations.

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SATORI Enlightenment and Ritual

“It is said that what is called the Spirit of an Age is something to which one cannot return. That this spirit gradually dissipates is due to the world’s coming to an end. In the same way, a single year does not have just spring or summer. A single day, too, is the same. For this reason, although one would like to change today’s world back to the spirit of one hundred years or more ago, it cannot be done. Thus it is important to make the best out of every generation.” (Yamato, 1979, p.27)

Satori

SATORI Journey of Enlightenment

The loss of humanities identity has reduced the ability of the individual to communicate with their spirit, becoming alienated from themselves. This suggests that identity is in fact the reflection of the spirit, they are one in the same, and concepts such as culture and ‘the home’ is a way of mirroring this essence to better understand ourselves. If identity is the result of spiritual development, then perhaps spiritual philosophies can be used to develop an architecture that replicates a spiritual journey in the home.

33 The wedded rocks in Futami, Japan. The shinto philosophy dictates that all objects possess spirit, regardless if they do not ‘appear’ to be alive.

Tarkovsky (1972) stated how Japanese culture had been influential in his directorial approach to making spiritual films, drawing from the poetic nature of Haiku, to the inspirational works of Akira Kurosawa. He described his fascination with the essence of poetry, the perfection in its imperfection, referring to his thesis that “hideousness and beauty are contained within each other” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.88). What Tarkovsky used in poetry was its transcendence, its ability to become more than the sum of its parts, in Haiku, this has evolved from interwoven Japanese traditions that communicate the philosophical values of Zen. Barthes (1970) refers to Japan as ‘the empire of signs’, a culture with rich mythological connotations that have penetrated into all aspects of Japanese culture, a mythology that Cavallaro (2006) argues has never truly changed in Japan. These cultural practices have evolved from the spiritual processes of Zen which are practiced so that one may achieve satori, the Japanese word for enlightenment, and is often centred on the subject of ‘emptiness’ and the understanding of one’s true nature. Satori

Barthes (1970, p.73) argues that “the whole of Zen wages a war against prevarication of meaning. We know that Buddhism baffles the fatal course of any assertion (or any negation) by recommending that one never be caught up in the four following propositions: this is A – this is not A – this is both A and not A – this is neither A nor not A” and that this system of non-definition suggests that “the Buddhist way is precisely that of the obstructed meaning”. Without meaning there is only the accepting ‘of’

something, not of ‘what’ something is, suggesting that by attempting to define ‘what’ something is reduces our ability to comprehend it, corrupting the truth of its spirit. We cannot be educated in spiritual matters; it is something one attains through enlightenment. Satori represents the ‘pureness’ of something, which can be used to describe the existence of ‘pure poetry’, the cinema of Tarkovsky, and also ‘pure cinema’, the cinema of Hitchcock. Both of these directors have sought the existence of ‘pureness’ within their films, acknowledging the imperfections of cinema as an essential part in the ‘pureness’. This poses the question, how do we find ‘satori’ in architecture and how can we implement this essence of enlightenment in the home?

Discipline 34 Discipline, learning to focus on the most simplest of tasks, even if this task is making tea.

Robert Twigger was a poet from Oxford who found himself in Japan during the 1990’s living with a distinct sense that his life was unfulfilled. During this period he began to look toward poetry in Japan, and began to study Yamaoka Tesshu. Twigger (1997, p.18) says how he “put together another collection of poems and pondered the example of Tesshu. He

was a poet and a warrior. He was incredibly productive and still had time left over to swing his sword, meditate for hours and imbibe huge quantities of sake. What was stopping me? Television? A job? The necessity to travel everywhere by electric train? What did Tesshu have

that I lacked? Discipline. He got up early and went to bed late, and he trained every day. Discipline. I just didn’t have it”. His realisation

was that by applying discipline, he could create purpose in his life, to which he turned to the martial art Aikido, hoping that the practices would teach him the things he craved to learn.

For many martial arts the goal is to achieve a balance with one’s body, in particular to unify both the physical actions of the body with the thought processes of one’s mind. Although the obvious criticism is that the body is controlled by the mind, there is a unity that can be found between these two, creating a ‘mindless’ harmony with one’s self. This unity comes from the inherent Zen philosophy that one must abide by in daily life as well as in martial practices. Philosophy is important to Aikido as its ethos states that both the mind and body must work in complete unison before true practice can be reached, and through ritual practice, one can attain satori. In Japan, “Yoshinkan Aikido derived its insistence on ‘Spirit’ from the same philosophical underpinnings as the ultra-nationalists, though the direction since the war, had been to make ‘Spirit’ a personal striving rather than a nationalist ethos” (Twigger, 1997, p. 48). Martial arts endeavour to train the student both physically and mentally, which are not regarded as separate entities. They are unified by what is called ‘ki’, a universal energy that is related to everything; nature, health, discipline, all constituting the ‘Japanese spirit’. This training allows for the practitioner to act as a single entity and understand the spiritual essence of their body. “But of what use is the mind and is reasoning, directing powers without the body to act and carry out its decisions. And of

what use is the body without any over-all conscious control and direction? The mind and the body are not separate entities; the mind is part of and contained within the body. The closer unity of mind and body – the fusion of these two functions (direction and action) – seems to come closest to an acceptable Western explanation of the strange strength which aikidioists call ‘ki’.” (Westbrook & Ratti, 1970, p. 22)

These ideas all hold the essence of ‘ki’ in high regard, training your body and mind in discipline to control a focused personal reality. In the journey to embrace this ‘spirit’ a new perception of the world is achieved. Twigger’s experience of discipline was found through a gruelling course with the Tokyo Riot Police, who use Aikido as a method of combat training, but as a civilian, Twigger (1997) found that the essence of the teachings made the practitioner one with themselves, that the process of martial arts rituals are indeed applicable to more than just the nature of combat. The way of the samurai comes from Bushido, a strict set of rules by which a samurai must conduct himself and is directly formed from the religious philosophies of Shinto Buddhism. These philosophical values are present in all aspects of a samurai’s code, and it is in this continual dedication to one’s set of principles that one finds enlightenment. The book Hagakure (1979) also known as The Hidden Leaves is the written documentation of Yamamoto Tsunetomo’s commentaries on what he believed constituted being a samurai. Tsunetomo (1979, p.31) suggests that there is an instilled sense of ‘pureness’ in the samurai code and “purity is something that cannot be attained except by piling effort upon effort”, that “it is bad when one thing becomes two. One should not look for anything else in the Way of the Samurai.

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It is the same for anything that is called a Way. If one understands things in this manner, he should be able to hear about all ways and be more and more in accord with his own”. To live in the presence of death, and accept it, forges a soul that is ‘pure’ of

purpose.

The essence of a ‘way’ of living is the core to these reflections, living in a constant state of purpose. The accounts come from the 18th Century when the warring times of Japan had predominately ended, providing an insight into how a samurai regarded his teachings during a period in which its intended purpose was no longer necessary. Hagakure (1979) highlights ‘why’ a samurai is taught these belief systems and the spiritual power that comes from them, showing how one can merge body and soul through the Zen teachings of achieving ‘emptiness’. Tsunetomo (1979, p.24) understood that the samurai code would not have been applicable to mankind in the past, and that the same must be said of the future, stating that “it is said that what is called the Spirit of an Age is something

to which one cannot return. That this spirit gradually dissipates is due to the world’s coming to an end. In the same way, a single year does not have just spring or summer. A single day, too, is the same. For this reason, although one would like to change today’s world back to the spirit of one hundred years or more ago, it cannot be done. Thus it is important to make the best out of every generation”. Here

he proposes that the essence of his teachings apply to every generation, and that this is why they are understood through ritual practice, and that this practice will evolve over time with the philosophies remaining the same.

Ritual Practices Although satori is enlightenment, it does not describe how one can reach it. This path is instead described by ritual process. The philosophy of Zen forges a ritualistic approach to even the simplest of tasks, key examples of this occur in the Japanese tea ceremony and the forging of swords, which have far surpassed their method of creation as an efficient practice. Strosberg (1999, p.125) suggests that the time spent on producing swords and even the tea is an extended period with philosophical connotations, it is not a ritual of efficiency, in fact “the fabrication process was closer to a religious ritual than to a practical manufacturing procedure”. Discipline extends to all forms of practice, whether this is calligraphy, painting, literacy, or filmmaking. In artistic processes Strosberg (1999, p.142) describes how “painting was a spiritual exercise in which the artist’s main goal was to create a focus for meditation”.

35 Functional and crisp, the ritual nature of the Japanese architecture can inspire the creation of structures that resonate with purpose.

It becomes apparent that the nature of discipline is essential in finding a way to attain satori, but more than this, it is the ritualistic practice of these tasks that gives them meaning. The concept of the ritual is something that modern society has lost, viewed as a process that serves a religious function that provides no value when practiced without a ‘belief’ system. There is a need to re-evaluate the place of ritual practices in society for the purpose of self-betterment and so that we maintain a connection with the spiritual aspect of our reality.

Satori

Ritual Architecture Japanese culture is rich with ritualistic practices which are practical derivations of Zen teachings, whether this is the calligraphy styles associated with writing and painting or the disciplines instilled from martial arts practices. In what ways can ritualistic practices become infused with architectural design, and in what ways could the architecture aid in the ritualism associated with our daily lives? Kurosawa’s cinema preached the spiritual value of following the samurai code, how it fuses with more than just violence, melding their process of life as one continuous ritual. The process never changes, yet the person who performs these repetitions changes in both mind and soul. Therefore could architectural spaces be used to facilitate this ritualistic process, perhaps in the home in which we are continually losing our sense of self. 36 Can we reintroduce the disciplines and rituals of Japan into a modern culture that appreciates the ‘meaning’ of spiritual endeavours.

I believe that the pureness required for satori can be formed through narrative, and by using cinematic techniques to design architecture perhaps this ‘pureness’ can be implemented in architectural form. With the theory that a director can be an architect, could the poetic essence of Tarkovsky’s films, analysed through Zen, be used in the design process to create architectural Satori?

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JAPANESE FILM Ritual Film

In Mark Cousins’ book The Story of Film (2011) he describes the way that Eastern and Western filmmakers influence each other in a cyclical process, and that this cycle changes the way in which directors produce films. A classic example of this is seen in the way that Akira Kurosawa’s film Seven Samurai (1954) was adapted by Hollywood to produce the Spaghetti Western The Magnifiscent Seven (1960), causing the Western world to witness a Japanese story, translated into a relatable Western setting. The essence of the films is the same, suing similar characters and plots, yet the way the story is communicated drastically alters the meaning of the film. This is a similar process that has occurred in the films of Andrei Tarkovsky, whilst many of his directorial style can appear to be Japanese; the techniques have been adapted into a Western style, causing the meaning of the technique to alter. Though Tarkovsky’s productions clearly contains a number of Japanese philosophies, they are merely the interpretations of a Russian film maker that identified with these beliefs. However, with such a strong connection between Tarkovsky’s poetics of space and Japanese philosophy, has his adaptation altered the core values of their Zen origin, and does their use by Japanese filmmakers produce different cinematic results? Noël Burch is a key figure that will be used in this analysis having written a number of books on cinema, such as Theory of Film Practice (1973) and To the Distant Observer (1979). The latter title serves as a comprehensive analysis of Japanese cinema spanning over eighty years, drawing comparison to pre 20th Century works, highlighting the evolution Japanese cinema has taken. Satori

37 Takashi Miike’s film 13 Assassins (2010), setting the focus of climactic events through strict control of the camera.

Yasujiro Ozu Yasujiro Ozu was a Japanese film director that operated predominantly between the 1930s to the 1960s and had a profound impact on filmmaking. His oeuvre is known for the technique of ‘mono no aware’ which describes the awareness of the impermanence of things. His directorial style both created and destroyed existing cinematic techniques including his extensive use of 180° shots. Ozu’s grave is marked simply with the character ‘mu’ which translated stands for ‘nothingness’, a testament to his directorial oeuvre. Ozu has a profound sense of the different kinds of space that exist in film. Burch (1973, p.24) describes how he “was the first filmmaker after Renoir to have understood how important the existence of two distinct kinds of space is. He was also perhaps the first director to have really understood the value of the empty screen and the tensions that result from leaving it empty”. The simple relationship can reduced to what is seen and what is unseen by the camera, similar to the styles of Hitchcock and his use of the ‘fourth wall’. In Hitchcock’s films, the fourth wall is often and irrelevant a space in which there is an absence of event or architecture. In Ozu’s work this technique is reversed, placing elements of extreme relevance outside the narrative. Bordwell (1988, p.105) describes how Ozu’s transitions “depict space that is invariably presented as outside the diegesis, as a pictorial space on another plane of ‘reality’ as it were, even when the artefacts shown are, as

The poetic shots of Ozu and the careful use oflighting, carefully sontrolling the sense of time of a shot.

is often the case, seen previously or subsequently in shots that belong wholly to the diegesis”. This technique is effective as it can be seen to create an elaborate world that runs parallel with the narrative, yet remain abstracted from filmic physicality, in essence it become a world in the mind of the viewer. This technique can be implemented in design through creating architectural journeys in the space, such as water streams and mirrored reflection, giving them physical presence whilst disguising the origin of the feature. Perhaps this technique could create a subconscious reminder in the inhabitant that the space they are in is connected with other unseen spaces, becoming part of a process. In fact, this idea would be the perfect architectural metaphor for the hermeneutic circle described by Fontin (2011) to visualise the spiritual journey. In his career Ozu also developed the technique known as pillow shots. Inspired by the poetics nature of haiku, pillow shots “visual function is to effect a deliberate suspension of the text’s momentum. Such sequences validate Robert Ebert’s contention that one of the most special formal features of anime consists of its employment of the graphic equivalent of pillow words used in Japanese poetry” (Cavallaro, 2006, p. 25). In essence they are a cinematic technique that can be used to

manipulate the interpretation of time, the term arising from the comparison to haiku ‘pillow words’.

Burch (1979, p.292) describes how the pillow shots “most often achieve their uniquely de-centering effect by lingering unexpectedly on an inanimate object. […] The essence of the pillow shot, then, lies in the tension between the suspension of human presence and its potential return”. The shots

Dynamic contrast, the pillow shots create a sense of extreme tension and immerse the audience in a static frame.

themselves are a form of Hitchcock’s ‘gaze’, leading the viewer into a sense of estrangement from time, becoming immersed in ‘the moment’. This pillow shot technique has developed over time and has also emerged in the films of Kurosawa. The pillow shot provides a technical method by which one can replicate the moments of reflection in Ozu’s and Tarkovsky’s films, and to construct ‘pillow shots scenes’ that will inform the architectural design of spiritual spaces of metaphysical reflection in the project.

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Akira Kurosawa From a Western perspective, Akira Kurosawa can arguably be said to be the most well know Japanese film director. Kurosawa came from a former samurai family from the Akita Prefecture. Kurosawa has at times been accused nationally as being a Japanese director who catered for a western audience, however, Burch (1979, p.291) suggests that instead, Kurosawa is “set apart by the very nature of his undertaking, since, after Kinugasa, he was only the second film-maker in the history of Japanese film who, after thoroughly assimilating the Western mode of representation, went on to build upon it”. Rather than appropriating Western cinematic technique as an overriding theme in his work, Kurosawa has begun

to bridge the gap between the filmic languages of Eastern and Western philosophy.

Kurosawa’s oeuvre was particularly dynamic, which was abundant in his action sequences, often utilising events of the extreme to represent his narrative. However, this dynamic style forced its way it all aspects of Kurosawa’s films, whether it be an environmental or character driven representation. Richie (1998, p.20) describes a sword fight in Seven Samurai (1954) “As in the sword fights in Seven Samurai and Sanjuro, we see two men, opposed, still as statues. Then the

action is so sudden, so furious, that the two men become fused, welded into the very image of battle. There is none of the wary circling of the ordinary ‘chambara’ swordsmen. Two men are apart, and then suddenly – with no transition – they are one. And this is what battle really is. Hate welds together just as strongly as love; only indifference separates” (Richie, 1998, p. 20).

In these scenes, what are notable are the themes and emotions of the action, but also that of the environment in which they take place. Kurosawa, like Tarkovsky, has been described as directors that introduced the pure nature of elements into his films. They are the elements with which we most commonly identify and with this come a ‘pureness’, a sense of power and effectiveness in the impact it has on our psyche. Prince (1991, p.17) notes how Kurosawa’s films “partake of these traditions and treat the physical environment in a highly

active way: rain and wind are passionate indices of human character in his work. The symbolic nature of such films as Rashõmon and Red Beard is built around the weather and seasons. This is quite consistent with Japanese aesthetic tradition, where each of the seasons had its own affective properties, where the performance of particular Noh plays was correlated with appropriate seasons, and where one of the rules of good haiku composition was that it contain a seasonal reference”. These references to the natural environment

propose that they should have a significant presence in the cinematic narrative. This could translate into the architectural design through incorporating dynamic use of natural elements such as water, much in the way that Tarkovsky uses large pools of water or torrential rain to create an immersive experience. Japanese directors have developed their filmmaking techniques from a culture rich in Zen influence, and has resulted in the production of cinematic techniques that can be used to alter the way in which I approach tasks of production designing, storyboarding, shot composition and narrative direction. These philosophies and techniques will be used in the implementation of designing Oshii’s House through the eyes of a spiritual film director.

40 The terrential rainfall of Kurosawaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Seven Samurai (1954), the dyncamic nature adds to the effect of his characters as they beome entwined with extrremeties of weather.

41 The destuction of architectural form, Kurosawa controlled everything in his shots, even their demise.

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GHOST IN THE SHELL Mamoru Oshii

“Among the themes most assiduously revisited by Oshii’s cinema are the nebulousness of the boundary between empirical reality and the oneiric domain; the condition of the atomized solitude endured by virtually all living creatures – but most pointedly by humans – regardless of their membership in communities and professional teams; the rampant incidence of economic exploitation and political abuse in contemporary and futuristic societies; and the erosion of identity and, ultimately, even humanness resulting from incrementally invasive technologies of cybernetic and biomechanical derivation” (Cavallaro, 2006, p.2)

Ghost in the Shell

GHOST IN THE SHELL Mamoru Oshii

This dissertation began with a question, what is reality and how has it come to define our existence in the modern world? The problem is that modern society is turning us into a spiritless culture of beings without purpose, and as a result has begun to destroy our sense of individuality. Fontin (2011) described this loss of self as something that can be seen in the architecture of the home, and the way that it no longer addresses the need of the â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;individualâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;. This posed the question, can the architecture of the home be reimagined so that it can reclaim the individuality that humanity has lost.

42 The cybernetic brain, devleoping humanity past the point of its organic evolution, Oshii introduces the age of the technological human.

In order to tackle this problem, this research will be used to develop a domestic architectural project that engages with the client on a personal level. This means that the home will be developed for the use of one person only, and that the architectural spaces will become reflective of their personality. The architectural design process already attempts to cater for the needs of the client, but as discussed in the previous chapters, it fails to deliver on a number of levels. The research suggested that by incorporating filmmaking techniques a better and more immersive project can be designed. Therefore, this project will be constructed as if it were a film, developing the spaces through the construction of shot techniques, angles of view, and the narrative tools of scriptwriting and storyboarding to drive the design process. This method will prioritise the architectural experience first, with the physical development of the form coming second. Though the research of this dissertation has focused on a number of directorial techniques, it has also highlighted Ghost in the Shell

43 The bright yet dark city streets of the nameless city, creating a visual spectacle for the society that inhabits it.

that an architect is not a film director, and as such, this could weaken the impact of the filmic techniques I intend to use in the design. Therefore the design shall be produced in parallel with a critical analysis of a film and its director, using their cinematic methods as a guide to inform the architectural response. This chapter will be analysing the themes and trends of Mamoru Oshii’s films, with a specific focus on Ghost in the Shell (GitS) (1995) which contains rich sources of philosophical discussion on the nature of identity in the advancing technological world.

The design project will be titled ‘Oshii’s House: A home for a film director’ and will be designed as the residence of Mamoru Oshii, using his directorial oeuvre to develop the narrative story of the project. In essence the project brief will become a story that has been developed from the filmic style of Oshii in the attempt to develop an architectural strategy that reflects the philosophical concepts represented in his films. In this way, his oeuvre will become the architecture, linking his individuality with the project. This project will being by analysing Oshii’s directorial themes and extrapolating how he deals with the issues of identity and the home within his films. This will allow me to develop a ‘narrative brief’ that will effectively incorporate these aspects in the architectural design. 70

Mamoru Oshii “Ever since I was a child, I always had insecurity or suspicions about my own personal identity. That’s why I started going

to a lot of movie theaters, because I felt more comfortable there than at school. Now, the search for a personal identity is becoming a common topic for young Japanese people, and it’s a big theme in their own lives. But it’s been a theme in my life, as well, ever since I was young” (Oshii, 2004)

Mamoru Oshii is a Japanese SF film and animation director whose works contain a plethora of philosophical connotations that deal with themes of reality and identity. His works began in the 1980’s just as Japanese studios were trying to stave off imminent collapse. Films such as Patlabor (1987) seem to directly interpret the nature of these events with characters that reflect upon the destruction of Japans soul from the desire to rapidly embrace technological advancement. His commentary on the change in social structure often presents itself in his films as devices to which the central characters contrast the nature of society to how it alters their individuality. The image of a corrupted Japan is central to Oshii’s as it explored in the dream like realms of his films, discussing the metaphysical impact that society has had on our souls. His oeuvre has been described by Dani Cavallaro (2006) as one of the ‘oneiric dimension’, and that his dream-like films continually focus on the process of the narrative journey, leaving the resulting conclusion ambiguous. It is this inconclusive experience of an Oshii film that seduces the viewer, giving them the ability to become involved with a characters journey of self-discovery, without becoming subjected to a philosophical opinion that they do not identify with. In 1995, Oshii produced what is arguably one of his finest films, Ghost in the Shell. The basis of GitS is found in the manga works of Masamune Shirow, who portrayed an exotic world that bridged the gap between man and machine. However, what made Oshii’s 1995 film so distinctive were the philosophical elements that were used to drive the narrative, far removed from the look and feel of Shirow’s manga, “his film is a meditation on the nature of the self in the digital age, depicting how we may in the future (and to some extent do now) construct our personal identities” (Ruh, 2004, p. 126). Oshii took a pre-existing storyline and turned it into something new, imbuing the film with his own oeuvre. This will be key in understanding Oshii’s films, as although key works such as GitS (1995) and Innocence (2004) are films that draw from existing fantasies, it is Oshii’s interpretation of their origins that make his films remarkable. GitS (1995) introduced the character of Major Motoko Kusanagi, a cybernetic being that is comprised of both organic and artificial construct. In this case, the only remaining human element to the Major is her brain, and since she has a ‘born’ human consciousness she is said to have a ‘ghost’ or kami that lingers in her artificial shell of a body. The film contains a dense layering of philosophical systems that discuss the nature of reality, the origins of life and consciousness, and the purpose of technology in an ever advancing world. These themes focus on what will happen to humanity as technology affects our lives in an incredibly invasive way, causing the Major to embark on a journey to define her own identity and to discover what part an individual plays in this world.

Ghost in the Shell

44 Batiu becomes immersed in a virtual experience of a journey, toying with his sense of reality through virtual forms that are downloaded into his mind.

Unlike other SF human form machines such as the ‘replicants’ in Blade Runner who wish to be “’human’ in the most

organic sense of the word […] Kusanagi wants to escape the physical, be it technological or organic, to fuse into a nonmaterial world where her ghost can roam free” (Napier, 2000, p. 113). Ultimately there is a sense in GitS (1995) that the path by which

Kusanagi takes in order to affirm her identity is evidence alone that she has a spirit, that the psychological drive to affirm her identity gives her a ‘true’ self-awareness. Napier (2000) suggests that Oshii’s cybernetic philosophy does not hold much hope for the human body, appearing to remove it from the equation of its definition of the human soul. However, as Ruh (2004, p.130) states, the climax of GitS “is illustrative of Oshii’s problematization of technology – in one way we are killing ourselves and our past through technology’s sheer drive forward, but in another way (as we shall see), successful negotiation of relationships with technology can potentially open powerful avenues of freedom”.

45-47 Right: Kusanagi finds enlightenment as she ascends to the virtual realm of the net.

It is this issue of how to come to terms with our identity that I wish to investigate in the architectural design, using Oshii’s cinematic themes to inform the narrative process by which I reimagine the function of the home. In what ways does GitS (1995) create an environment that is able to effectively portray this experience of self-discovery?

The Journey The characters in Oshii’s films often find themselves through travelling on a solitary and adversarial path, GitS (1995) sees the protagonist completely lose her body as her consciousness is merged with the Puppet Master, giving birth to a new form of life that is neither of them. In essence the Major loses her identity to become something new, “from the viewpoint of Western human liberalism, this strategy may be seen to allude to an irretrievably lamentable loss of selfhood and self-containedness, yet from an Eastern perspective, the dissolution of Kusanagi’s identity and personal boundaries carries positive connotations. Indeed, it is consonant with the Japanese concept of seishinshugi: namely, spiritual catharsis and growth through suffering and self-deprivation” (Cavallaro, 2006, p. 190). Napier (2000)

assumes that Oshii’s attitude toward the human body is a hopeless one, but this is simply because he suggests a strategy of enlightenment that relies on the mental wellbeing of a person, not of their physical limitations. The theme of ascension in GitS (1995) is formed from an eclectic collection of merged belief systems that has emerged from Oshii’s fondness of multiple religions, in fact “the whole film seems informed by the existential desperation caused by the collapse of one’s belief system” (Wynnychuk, 2004).The religious connotations with his films reflect his desire to create an almost religious journey in the films narrative that describes the characters path toward enlightenment. “Oshii states that the ‘net’ can be equated with the myriad gods of the Shinto religion, underlining the notion that Kusangi’s fusion with the Puppet Master has strongly theological overtones” (Napier, 2000, p.

113). GitS (1995) introduces these religious connotations through the narrative of the story, shaping spirituality into an experience of the modern world. Tsunetomo stated that the methods by which we experience spirituality changes, but the values stay the same, and in this way Oshii manages to introduce spiritual events without the need to use their

Ghost in the Shell

traditional representations. The spiritual narrative of GitS (1995) also begins to shape the physical environments in which Kusangi realises her identity. This is presented in numerous ways, the cinematographic feel of the film, its relationship with Japanese culture, and the religious connotations that surround her path to ascension. “For all the surface beauty and seductive

textures of Oshii’s imagined landscapes, they function, ultimately, neither as immersive simulacra nor as moralistic warnings, but rather as complex portraits of a future characterised by a profound, multifaceted ambivalence” (Wynnychuk, 2004).

The spatial qualities of GitS (1995) are ones of a distinct cinematic construction, causing the audience to experience the existential nature of the depicted environments. “Cinematographically speaking, this characteristically

Oshian mix tends to rely on the systematic employment of montages, long takes, sequence shots, scrolling pans, distorted perspective, exaggeratedly low and high camera angles, and a dexterous manipulation of the interplay of light and shadow, reflections, refractions, and color gradations. Equally recursive are numerous images drawn from the natural world, used as metonymic correlatives for metaphysical notions and preoccupations” (Cavallaro, 2006, p. 2). This integral complexity in cinematic technique is what makes

the messages of his films so powerful. 48 Right: Kusanagi awakes in her framed window apartment, drawing her ever closer to the vastness of the city.

There is also a sense that Oshii is able to control the sense of time with the poetic nature of his films. The pillow shot techniques that mark the works of Ozu and Tarkovsky appear in his films at points where complex issues are dealt with in a calm and meditative on-screen space. “In place of frenetic editing and a sharp narrative focus, Oshii has created meditative, self-consciously difficult works that move slowly, end ambiguously, and are as concerned with the light at the edges of the screen as they are with advancing the plot” (Wynnchuk, 2004). Oshii uses his cinematic process to slow the pace of the

49 Batou returns home to feed his loving Gabriel, intilling a remote sense of humanity in his character throug another being.

environment, allowing the viewer to realise the importance of the cinematic moment.

Architecturally, Oshii deals with the nature of his character’s identities in an interesting way; he formulates them as loners who are forced in communal habitats, watching them attempt to establish their identities whilst struggling to negate other peoples. GitS (1995) uses this type of inhabitation to create the feeling that one is never truly alone, regardless if one is connected to the net, or walking the crowded city streets, there is nowhere to hide. In this situation, the characters lose the ability to define themselves without considering the vast networks of technological and sociological systems that surround them. The characters become isolated through the way in which their story is filmed, causing the narrative of the film to represent the personal journey of the characters development. If society managed to integrate spirituality into the home, could this be the tool in which we can redefine the experience home, and how can we introduce a sense of journey into its architectural form?

Ghost in the Shell

OSHII’S HOUSE A Home for a Film Director

The dissertation has discussed a number of key factors in dealing with the nature of identity, how it has affected our interaction with ‘the home’, and leaves us living a life without purpose. The Oshii’s House project will endeavour to create a domestic dwelling for the film director Mamoru Oshii, designing spaces informed by the variety of sources that have been investigated to redefine our sense of individuality in the home. Through utilising his oeuvre as a method to alter the architectural design process through adopting filmmaking methods, this house project will become a case study to develop a filmmaking strategy in the architectural design process as well as experiment with concepts of individuality within the home. Oshii himself leads an incredibly solitary lifestyle, living alone in with his two dogs Daniel and Gabriel, he is something of a recluse. He has become incredibly involved with his artistic disciplines surrounding manga, animé, and filmmaking, choosing to dedicate his life to his work with no family obligations. This will inform the design as it shall be orientated toward a single user, developing a specific spiritual journey for his home that will be tailored to his personality and no one else’s. This research proposes that the loss of identity that we feel in modern society is a result of a lack of spirituality in our lives, and that this has caused us to become alienated from our spirit. Oshii’s films attempt to address this issue through directing a character through a filmic pilgrimage. In these journey’s it is not the characters or environments present that dictate the outcome of the film, it is the narrative, the journey itself, the architectural Os h ii ' s H o u s e

50 What will Oshii’s house become? A dark structure, a city structure, or a place where artificiality runs amock?

forms are simply designed to reflect this. Focusing on the theme of identity in GitS (1995), I will create an architectural spiritual journey. This will come from designing a series of rooms of spiritual experience that cause us to re-evaluate our identitiy. Oshii’s films often lead to some climactic event that redefines the mental state of the protagonist; however, the architectural scheme I am proposing will not have an ‘ultimate’ goal in spiritual development. The structure will instead imbue a sense of enlightenment found in the methods and practices of the samurai who did not commit to a long-term plan in the quest to enlightenment, they instead chose to devote every day to a strict set of disciplines that would allow them to feel enlightenment in every moment of their lives, to die without hesitation and live a life that is complete. The goal of this design process is to produce an architecture that resonates with Oshii’s soul, not to lead him on a spiritual path of transcendence. The analysis of satori suggested that the path to enlightenment can be achieved through ritual practices as they instil discipline and allow the practitioner to become more self-aware. The Oshii’s House project will endeavour to design a process of living that the inhabitant can perform on a daily basis to train their spirit to be in tune with their psychological state of mind. These disciplines will focus on aspects of daily life, converting tasks such as drinking tea and working on films into a ritual experience. In this way, the architecture will not consist of generic rooms such as a bathroom, living room, and kitchen, but instead it will consist of spaces that mirror Oshii’s personality, incorporating the functional aspects of a standard home within these spaces. Therefore the building will retain functionality without the experience becoming dictated by the traditional architectural elements. The spaces will be designed to be experienced sequentially, with the process of moving through the architecture becoming a spiritual journey through which rituals and disciplines impact on the inhabitant’s soul. Each of the spaces will reflect metaphorical concepts from GitS (1995) and Innocence (2004) and in doing this the house will in architectural terms, define the messages of his films in an attempt to develop a series of ritualistic spaces to be used to redefine our identity, allowing for spiritual growth. The spiritual journey will be developed through filmmaking methods, using script writing and storyboarding to produce a narrative that describes the experience of the space, creating my own cinematic moments of spiritual reflection. This process will adapt techniques such as pillow shots to develop key moments in the journey, converting the diegesis into the spiritualistic architecture of Mamoru Oshii.

51 Left: Interior spaces are created with purpose, one window to light the most important feature to the room.

From this narrative, an architectural form can be generated through producing short films and animation sequences that describe the spatial environment, allowing the story of the building to dictate its physical form. Using the methods delineated in The Wrong House (2007), this project will emerge as a series of cinematic shots that can be used to describe the narrative, with traditional drawings such as plans, sections, and elevations emerging as a result of the design process, rather than taking an active part in it.

Os h ii ' s H o u s e

CRUSHTROPOLIS Hong Kong

“Ghost in the Shell does not have a definite chosen set, but in terms of street scenes and general atmosphere, it is obvious that Hong Kong is the model. Such a choice has, of course, something to do with the theme: on the streets there flows an excess or a flood of information, along with everything this excess brings out. The modern city is swamped with billboards, neon lights and symbols…. As people live in this information deluge, the streets will have to be depicted accordingly as being flooded…. There is a sharp contrast between old streets and new ones on which skyscrapers are built. My feeling is that these two, originally very different, are now in a situation where one is invading the other. Maybe it is the tension or pressure that is brought about by so-called modernization! It’s a situation in which two entities are kept in a strange neighbouring relationship. Perhaps it is what the future is” (Atsushi, 1995)

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CRUSHTROPOLIS Designing a City

The Oshii’s House design project will first begin by developing the architectural proposition on a massive scale. Current society is ever pursuing the architectural evolution of the skyscraper city, and this is not necessarily a bad thing. This issue that faces us architecturally is how do we interact with the city on an individual level? The problem emerges from the fact cities are not truly designed, they simply emerge over time. Despite the fact that the built environment specialises in practices such as urban design, the practice often fails to acknowledge what the experience of being in a city is. This is where filmmaking methods seen in GitS (1995) become useful in designing a city.

52 Left: How will the city evolve, will it become ever more dense as we build compact and high in the modern age?

The nameless set of GitS (1995) introduces us into a future metropolis that predicts the environment that the city will become forty years from now, and the realism with which it is presented is staggering. From an architectural perspective, the narrative process in which Oshii’s characters inhabit architectural space in his cinema occurs on multiple levels. The close quarters environments of the offices, homes, and recreational spaces give the characters close ‘mirrors’ in which they metaphysically become encased, but Oshii also further develops the environment of films such as GitS (1995) on a cityscape level of detail. During the concept stages, particular methods were used in the cinematic process that led to the development of the nameless city. There was a decision that the architectural themes of the story should reflect the technological prowess required by the plot, and for that it was decided that it should be an Asian city. The result of this deliberation process was that the GitS (1995) city would be designed in the style of Hong Kong, particularly for its contrasting architectural identities. C r u s h t r o p o l is

“Ghost in the Shell does not have a definite chosen set, but in terms of

street scenes and general atmosphere, it is obvious that Hong Kong is the model. Such a choice has, of course, something to do with the theme: on the streets there flows an excess or a flood of information, along with everything this excess brings out. The modern city is swamped with billboards, neon lights and symbols…. As people live in this information deluge, the streets will have to be depicted accordingly as being flooded…. There is a sharp contrast between old streets and new ones on which skyscrapers are built. My feeling is that these two, originally very different, are now in a situation where one is invading the other. Maybe it is the tension or pressure that is brought about by so-called modernization! It’s a situation in which two entities are kept in a strange neighbouring relationship. Perhaps it is what the future is” (Atsushi,

1995)

This statement posits the idea that a future environment can be created from crushing together two opposing concepts. What makes the GitS (1995) city so resonant is its identification with the past, that in order to design a new city one does not have to start from scratch, and that it pays heritage to what already exists. According to Brian Webb (2004, p.21) this is also what explains the success of Blade Runner’s (1980) depiction of the future city, that part of its “genius lies in the creation of such an elaborately

realistic vision of the future of LA. What made that vision so realistic was the incorporation of elements from the past, and their elaboration. By now, pretty much everyone knows that shit is never going to look like The Jetsons. The people who made Blade Runner knew that any future Los Angeles, in addition to looking ‘futuristic’, will also look old”.

53-56 The similarities between contemporary Hong Kong and futre nameless city. The creative team truly modelled the future on Hong Kong, analysising the traits of a culture that has rapidly advanced in the last 100 years.

What Atsuchi describes is intriguing, that this coalition of different cultures does not have to rest in a unified architectural form, instead they are simply ‘crushed’ together to create something new. This process has inspired to design the cityscape of ‘Crushtropolis’, and will be used to create the site that the Oshii’s House Project will be integrated within. Through adopting this ‘crushing’ technique I will experiment with merging together different architectural cultures to determine if their contrasting nature can develops a new architectural form. To investigate this theory I will produce a series of concept art collages that attempt to integrate a number of different architectural elements into a single form, and determine whether or not this process of landscaping is an effective way in designing a site for the domestic project. The focus of the architectural form will varying in both scale and content, from the way a city emerges in a landscape to the experience of being at street level.

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CRUSHTROPOLIS

My own Crushtropolis, merging together a variety of differnt architetural forms in the attmept to understand the entity that is the city.

Manufactured Landscapes

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Manufactured Landscapes

The cityscape seen in GitS (1995) depicts a futuristic evolution of a city that is reminiscent of modern day Hong Kong, with the films sequel Innocence (2008) further shifting the aesthetic style to represent the industrial nature of the films future. The images themselves are consciously overdeveloped, appearing almost toxic amongst an artificial landscape, yet they are astonishingly beautiful. It is not unlike Tarkovsky’s view that “Hideousness and beauty are contained within each other” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.88). Both beauty and hideousness evoke a strong emotional response from a viewer causing us to view them as beautiful.

58 Burtynsky and his photographs of industrial landscape. There is a hidden quality in the artificial nature of these environments, what impact will this have on my design project?

This aesthetic can also been seen in the photographic images of Edward Burtynsky, a Canadian artist and photographer. His landscape photographs have often focused on China as a location due to its rapidly accelerating industrial emergence in the world. His work has also been subjected to analysis by Jennifer Baichwal who directed the 2006 film Manufactured Landscapes. It is also key to note the often symbiotic relationship that can occur between landscapes, that whilst initially may have an artificial stimuli to instigate a change, the natural environment may surpass this intervention and evolve beyond this as has occurred in the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. The montaging experiments highlighted that the city is something that becomes incredibly different depending on the scale in which it is viewed. The long shot landscapes managed to capture the variety of architectural levels, bringing together, highlighting the way in which poorer areas exist in relation to richer, and the way in which a cityscape can be integrated with an undulating natural landscape. The attempt to develop an architectural form from Burtynsky’s photography was interesting as it proved that a dilapidated structure can still hold aesthetic qualities, and that the overall form of the Oshii’s House project does not need to be designed as a ‘pure’ form. The effect was reminiscent of Tarkovky’s ruinous architecture, functioning as a place of hideous beauty. Instead the sense of purity can evolve from the spiritual aspects of the inhabitation process. The smaller the scale of the montages, the more they appeared to show a sense of life, and as such, the final montage began to shape the level of detail that is necessary to develop a narrative. On a large scale, a sense of personality was removed from the image, and it was difficult to imagine how I would develop a narrative from these designs. Instead they merely served as backdrops in which I could place a narrative. The next design project will aim to investigate the experience one has when living in a city, focusing closer on the interaction between the architectural elements and the individual. C r u s h t r o p o l is

CRUSHTROPOLIS Industrial Landscape

59 In following the work of Edward Burtynsky I became aware of the architectural properties of the wasteland, and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s inherent beauty. This is a montage that pays tribute to that idea, arranging images of desolation into something that is not too far removed from an architectural proposal.

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60 Analysing the city at street level, how does one impact the other, and how does crushing various architectures affect the experience of the city?

CRUSHTROPOLIS Multicultured Street

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61 Not all aspects of the city need to be architectural on a massive scale. Oshii uses small details to experiment with the experience of a city through the eyes of the inhabitant.

Film Symphony The relationship between the city and the individual is obscure as we often talk about how a society exists in a city with little consideration to how its presence affects us. The previous design tasks attempted to control this effect through visual means, however, as stated previously this is how architects approach a design issue, but it is not necessarily the best solution. We fail to acknowledge the city as a character in itself, with directors such as Oshii and Hitchcock using directorial techniques such as film symphonies to describe the entity that is the city. In what ways do directors approach the task of creating a city, and how does this influence their architectural forms? In GitS (1995) Oshii develops this crushed city cinematically through the experience of high octane street chases which explore the characteristically ‘grimy’ nature of Hong Kong’s side street elements and marketplaces. However, more importantly, the city is given character in the film during an exquisite scene of pillow shots that depicts Kusanagi’s voyage along the canals of the city. The scene depicts a number of city characteristics such as side stalls, jogging clubs, overpassing airplanes, and images of Oshii’s Bassett hound observing the major. The sequence is intriguing because the architectures of the city are barely visible, instead what we are faced with is the towering structures of a generic skyscraper city, the dilapidated side streets, but more importantly we see the way in which the city is being depicted in its inhabitation. This sequence is a result of the scripting and storyboard process that focuses on what must be shown in the scene, therefore can this technique be used as a way of masterplanning an urban development, so that the experience of the city takes priority over its architectural form? In order to develop my understanding of how a city can be developed through film techniques, I will approach the nameless city used in GitS (1995) as if it were a real city, and from this I will produce a documentary film that analyses its architectural properties, and the experiences that the audience is subject to. The documentary allowed me to truly appreciate the way in which the events of a society can influence the cinematic feel of a city in a film symphony, the way in which the camera causes us to focus our attention on a specific event, and to see how that event can shape the impression that we have of an architectural space. If the events and characters of the sequence were completely altered, so would the architectural experience. Therefore it is the events and not the architecture itself that controls the emotional connection with an architectural space. After analysing the spatial environments depicted in GitS (1995), it becomes clear that it is the adaptation of cultural life that creates this city. Despite the way that only specific elements such as merging the market stools, joggers, and harbour boats of Hong Kong are integrated into the nameless city, their essence remains the same, the look and feel of Hong Kong remains. If this is true then the film symphony can only be used to design a city in relation to its cultural presence and still does not focus on the relationship with the individual.

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STORYBOARDS Scene Development Storyboarding is a crucial element in the design and development stage of any film, whether it be a feature film, trailer or even an advert. These images taken from The Analysis of Ghost in the Shell show the lineage of the design process as immense detail is crafter into every single element of architecture and spatial environment. When storyboarding it is essential to not only have the content of the scene envisioned, but also the angle of the shot and the particular area on which it will focus. It is this area that I find fascinating as an architect. The camera contains in that frame an â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;imageâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; that embodies a message or description of the entire narrative. It is the layering process that escalates to complete the narrative. Unlike an architect, a film director does not have not involve himself with the realisation of the architecture he create. The camera lies. It is often the case when discussing the practical implementation of filmic architecture that it becomes apparent that the structure itself is incoherent and impossible to recreate in the real world. This occurs in the transitions of shots, where a character travels or an event occurs. The changes in image can travese great distance, but still contain familiar elements that keep the audience unaware of the change. In successful cases, directors balance this inadequecy of realism through implementing high levels of details in their shots, layering to an almost ultra-real image that an audience can believe in, even if it is unlikely to ever appear in reality.

62 Detailing the essence of a film, storyboarding concepts about how the shots are framed, and in reverse, detailing how the audience experiences the space. Should this be something that architects do?

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DOCUMENTARY Pillow Sequences Art 63 The analysis of the pillow shot sequence in GitS (1995(, determing how the space is constructed by Oshii to create a sense of space within his oneiric oeuvre.

The first of my documentary projects is a study of the overpopulated cityscape portrayed in Ghost in the Shell. The city draws the viewer through washed out images of a Hong Kong style city. The images contain lots of reflective matter as we follow the Major along a boat, coursing its way through the canals.

of the

C i t y s c a p e “Hong Kong”

Interview “Takeuchi Atsushi” Film Arts Director

Frame

Story

of a

City

Art

of the

Story

The Mirror Image

“Ghost in the Shell does not have a definite chosen set, but in terms of street scenes and general atmosphere, it is obvious that Hong Kong is the model...”

Aerial Predator

Walls

People

“...Such a choice has, of course, something to do with the theme: on ......... the streets there flows an excess or a flood of information, along with everything this excess brings out...” C r u s h t r o p o l is

Unreachable Sky

“...The modern city is swamped with billboards, neon lights and symbols…. As people live in this information deluge, the streets will have to be depicted accordingly as being flooded…”

Alley Frame

.........

“...There is a sharp contrast between old streets and new ones on which skyscrapers are built...” “...My feeling is that these two, originally very different, are now in a situation where one is invading the other...”

64 The analysis of the pillow shot sequence in GitS (1995(, determing how the space is constructed by Oshii to create a sense of space within his oneiric oeuvre.

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The rain patterns begin to shimmer and distort the surrounding environment, as well as the reflective surfaces of buildings seen in the mirroring of the Major and the aircraft. The positioning of the shots generally appears to frame the city, seen in the images of the interior of an apartment, with the focus of the picture being the distant skyline.

Urban Artery

.....

Promenade Parade

“...Maybe it is the tension or pressure that is brought about by socalled modernization!...”

Fleeting Facades

.........

“...It’s a situation in which two entities are kept in a strange neighbouring relationship...”

“Perhaps it is what the future is.”

Takeuchi Atsushi

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Rear Window The only other filmic process to develop the relationship between the individual and the city, is through examining the way in which it acts as an exterior to the interior architecture of the home. In order to integrate the city with the home, one can look to the city design produced by Hitchcock during his production of Rope (1948). Here the set was designed to allow particular elements of the New York skyline to permeate into the apartment. Controlling the way in which the interior related to the external environment. As a design tool, this cinematic approach to integrating the exterior with the interior could be useful in the way that it deals with the experience of a city within the realm of the home, and how we interact with the city as an entity and not just a series of constraints in which we need to base a project. Often in architecture we discuss the use of creating â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;viewsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; within a space, usually as a result of placing a window or aperture in a strategic location that frames an image of aesthetic beauty. However, this process does not provide any true interaction, as the external views are reduced to mere images that do not interact with the space in any meaningful way. The cinematic process finds use and meaning in the interaction between interior and exterior, causing an external view to develop beyond that of simple architectural feature. This can be witnessed in scenes of dialogue between characters where the architectural backdrop becomes an essential part of the conversation, whether what is being shown is directly referred to or that is provides an emotive quality that augments the dialogue in some way. In the process of script writing, if the environment does not take part in the event of the scene then it is omitted, and as a result will not be incorporated in the scenes production. The problem with the previous design techniques was that they were attempting to design a new architectural city, and this is a mammoth task. The examples of films that deal with cityscapes, such as GitS (1995) and Rope (1948) both deal with cities that already exist, developing the architecture to engage within an existing environment. In order to give more control to design the project, I will locate the project in Hong Kong, and by using an existing setting the relationship between the home and the city can be explored in a realistic way. Using filmmaking methods of GitS (1995), I will use shots of the cityscape to determine in what way the project will frame images of the city that are relevant to the processes occurring within the interior spaces, bridging the gap between the city and the home..

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65 Frames within frames, Cinema acknowledges that the windows can be seen from a window, and how do these spaces interact. This can be on a mere visual level, or could this be developed another way?

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DEMONS AND DAEMONS The Reflection of the Soul

“Some look into a mirror and don’t look evil. It doesn’t reflect evil, but create it. Namely, you should look down on mirrors; don’t look into it” (Innocence, 2004)

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Demons and Daemons

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DEMONS AND DAEMONS The Reflection of the Soul

Oshii (2008) posits the idea that although we evolve physically, it is our ability to evolve mentally that is causing us to depart from our natural bodies, that “people are definitely losing their human forms. Animals have always stayed the same, and continue to do so in the years to come, but humans are always changing, and they need to change, with the development of technology. However, they should not fear the change or evolution, but rather accept it and learn to live with it”. He argues that the nature of identity must be resolved by an external factor, one that can reflect the nature of our humanity better than our corporeal bodies can in our ever changing world. For Oshii, he believes that dogs reflect his spiritual nature, in particular his hound Gabriel. “I’ve always felt that in order to portray humans, you should not be shooting humans; you should be shooting something else. And what I’ve used is animals, which are very important in my films” (Oshii, 2004).

In his film Innocence (2004), this theme is explored through the character of Batou, who like Oshii, has an overwhelming love for his dog, despite the hassle caring for it creates in his hectic life. Oshii (2008) states uses the pet as a symbol of Batou finding his own humanity in caring for an animal, suggesting that “without the existence of the dog that the protagonist keeps in his apartment, that world really would have been too inhuman.”. According to Oshii (2002, p.26), the dog “is the greatest mystery in my view. If I could fathom this mystery, I might direct an actual movie about dogs. But since the answers I have are only partial, I am satisfied with inserting dogs in my films as supporting roles. Thus far, films that deal with dogs have merely humanised them, which is not a proper way of doing them justice”.

This is personification, inserting human qualities into an inhuman form to reflect an individual. Oshii rejects the anthropocentric nature of mankind, acknowledging that what humans ‘think’ about the world is irrelevant, that our rationalisations are not ‘important’ to anything else other than ourselves. This is not to say that Oshii thinks of humanity as ‘meaningless’, simply that we do not take priority over other living things in the view of the universe. Oshii has a particular fondness for his dogs, and to him his dogs are part of his spiritual extension, causing him Demons and Daemons

66 The disturbing dolls of Hans Bellmer, for Oshii these dolls represent much more than just lifeless statues.

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to understand that the world is not a human one. Using this concept, can I design Oshii’s House to incorporate a separate spiritual journey for the dog, allowing it to perceive the structure in his own unique way. In Innocence (2004), Oshii says that the film is more about the preservation of a physical human identity than updating and improving it with technology. «When I made the

first Ghost in the Shell, I thought about what really makes your body your body. If you lose your arm, and you keep losing body parts, what is the last part that still makes you unique? The conclusion I came to at the time was your brain, and more specifically, your memory of life” (Oshii, 2004), but when making Innocence (2004) he was convinced that this time it’s about “your body, and it’s not anything specific, like your arm or your leg, it’s the body as an entire [entity], and more than that, it’s really the relationships you

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have with other people”.

The use of dolls in Innocence comes as a way of interpreting the nature of the human body in relation to its spirit. Innocence (2004) makes bold statements such as “the inadequacies of human awareness become the inadequacies of life’s reality. Perfection is possible only for those without consciousness, or perhaps endowed with infinite consciousness. In other words, for dolls and for gods” (Innocence, 2004). The complex nature of the human spirit is also discussed, and how this over complexity can devalue the experience of life, “Shelley’s skylarks are suffused with a profound, instinctive joy. Joy we humans, driven by self-consciousness, can never know” (Innocence, 2004). This form of experience is something that a simpler

mind can achieve through a harmony between the mind and soul, as previously discussed, this is something that can be achieved through the ‘pureness’ of a spirit, and in this case, it can be applied to the inanimate existence of a doll. “In Toy Story the dolls are just objects that humans bring to life, for their own amusement. The Japanese have a different

view: they think that dolls have a spirit. That’s why when they no longer have any use for a doll they just throw it away in the trash. They would be afraid to do that; the doll might put a curse on them. So they take the doll to a priest, who performs a ceremony [kuyo] to appease its spirit. I believe that myself, that dolls have a spirit. They are not just objects to have fun with … but that has nothing to do with a specific religion. Children have similar feelings about dolls – if they love a doll enough, they feel that it’s alive. That feeling is universal. It’s not something they’re taught – they just feel it somehow” (Oshii,

67 Oshii Bassett hound Gabriel is incorporated into a number of his films, often resulting in him becoming more human than his owners.

2004, p.209)

Cavallaro (2004, p.205) suggests that the perturbing nature of the doll comes from doubt of “whether a creature that certainly appears to be alive, really is. Alternatively, the doubt that a lifeless object might be alive. That’s why dolls haunt us. They are modelled on humans. They are, in fact, nothing but human. They make us face the terror of being reduced to simple mechanisms and matter … science, seeking to unlock the secret of life, brought about this terror”. The fear for humanity here is that we can be

reduced to basic mechanical components. This is fear created by the doll; they are paradoxically endowed with life inside a lifeless corpse.

Through examining the creation of the physical entity of the doll, we are faced with describing the task of creating life, highlighting that the truth is that the best we can do in replicating life is perfection, but the paradox is that life is found in imperfection. How do we aim for imperfection? In this, Cavallaro suggests that Gabriel becomes the most potent symbol of life in the film, and that “in line with this argument, it could be maintained that the trait that renders the character of the basset hound Gabriel so genuinely and vibrantly alive is the very fact that he is not perfect” (Cavallaro, 2006, p. 208). According to Suzuki, the guest producer of Innocence (2004), the dolls reflect the humanistic qualities of mankind, but they do so in a dark way. They remind us that they retain an image of our corporeal forms, something that in today’s society we are, but on the positive side, Oshii’s dolls teach us how to survive within this changing culture.

Demons and Daemons

68 The lifelss doll, once animated vibrantly. Like humans they reflect the lifelessness we all fear in ourselves.

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DOLLHOUSE Oshii’s Mannequin Body

The disturbing nature of the Dolls in Innocence (2004) is something that Oshii understands to be relevant to our sense of identity, suggesting that although something may not appear to be beautiful in the traditional aesthetic standards, it is beautiful in another way. As Tarkovsky stated “that “hideousness and beauty are contained within each other” (Pallasmaa, 2007, p.88). Oshii suggests that the doll is something that gives us awareness of our corporeal forms, and our interaction with them reaffirms our sense of identity.

69 Oshii made Doll. Creating an image of oneself as a doll has intriguing connotations, how would we respond to such a form?

Referring back to the artistic principles of Hans Bellmer, the dolls could become part of the architectural proposition in a way that would cause Oshii to interact with them on a regular basis. This experience will develop the space of the ‘Dollhouse’ in the project, creating an architectural space that stores Oshii’s dolls and creates a mechanical space in which they can be interacted with. The space will in essence become a showcase room, a place where Oshii can frame a collection of dolls that he is most fascinated with. The space will also double as a doll manufacturing workshop, a place where he can construct new dolls to add to his collection. Using scenes in Innocence (2004) as inspiration, I will create a space for Oshii to produce a doll of himself, acting like a distorted statue that reminds him of the true mechanical nature of his corporeal form. The project will also adopt the mechanical features of Oshii’s gynoid dolls, attempting to mechanise the project to give it a sense of life through animation. In Zen teachings, it is described that all things living or not contain a spirit, and that this is why dolls affect us, though they are inanimate, they ‘appear’ to be living, and this changes Demons and Daemons

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our perception of them. The mechanical elements of the project will also be used to augment the functionality of the building so that the artificial ‘life’ given to the home will reflect its ‘pureness’ of spirit. I intend to create a mechanical skeleton that underpins the structure so that particular aspects of the building will become animated. This will come most prominently in the form of mechanical doors that will operate on a timed basis, causing Oshii’s daily routine to be dictated by the building itself, opening and closing passages between areas of the home so that his spiritual path is confined to the experience of a sequence of rooms. In order to power the mechanical aspects of the project, the home will be built in close proximity to a river so that the current can be used to drive a watermill system that will continuously drive the buildings functionality. In essence the building will be given an everlasting life like that of a doll. The ‘flow’ of nature is something that should be addressed in our inhabitation of the world, linking the flow of the universe with our spiritual process of enlightenment. To provide this link, Oshii’s House will guide the river through the structure, becoming another spiritual journey in the home, though this is not a journey of the inhabitant, but rather the journey of nature. Through guiding the river flow through the building I hope to bring Oshii closer to the natural environment, and allow its spiritual essence to become one with the project through the way that it creates a physical link between the architecture and nature. Oshii believes that dogs are the animals that best represent his spirit, but how should this influence the architectural design of the home? His theory suggests that dogs should not be treated as humans, not because they are lesser beings, but simply that they are different to humans, and therefore should be treated differently. In keeping with the theme of the spiritual journey, particular architectural elements of the building will be designed to specifically accommodate the presence of his dogs Daniel and Gabriel, so that their experience of the building is one that is different to Oshii’s. The purpose of this is to integrate a number of different spiritual journeys into the home, that of Oshii, his dogs, and nature through the flow of the river. By living in these spaces, one can become linked with all of these different journeys, improving the spiritual quality of the architectural spaces.

Demons and Daemons

70 The gynoid dolls of Innocence (2004).

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DOLLHOUSE Mechanical Nature

71 Details of the doll space that have inspired the construction of mechanical doors that work on an automated system, opening select areas of the project at specific times of the day, aidiing the ritual aspect of the design.

72 The Dollroom contains a series of coffins that house individual doll sculptures, the room is intended to be a workshop and gallery for thse lifeless forms to which Oshii identifies with. The coffins themselves are mechanised, pulling apart to reveal the doll inside.

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WATERMILL

Left: Concept sketch of siting the project on a waterfall so that it can be used to drive the mechanical aspects of the design such as the dollroom and the doors, to be powered with a unlimited powwer supply.

74 Section showing the mechanical structure embedded into the mountain that drives the components of the build through harnessing the power of the river.

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DOLLROOM Poetic Immersion

75 Exterior of the Dollroom, using the force of the river to drive the mechanical systems that form all the way up the spine of the buidling.

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THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY Identity Revealed

“For now we see as through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face” (Corinthians 13:11)

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T h r o u g h a G l a ss D a r k l y

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THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY Identity Revealed

During a conversation between Kusangi and the Puppet master, the artificial being quotes the bible, “for now we see as through a glass darkly, but then we shall see face to face” (Corinthians 13:11). This reveals the underlying feature of almost all of Oshii’s key cinematic themes, that of the ‘dark reflection’. Oshii’s metaphysical concepts surrounding the nature of identity frequently use distorted reflections to expose a hidden aspect of a character’s identity that they were previously unaware of.

76 The Major is reflected as she contemplates the fate of the individual she has just question, causing her to refelct on her own identity, and how fragile it has become.

These reflections often alienate the characters, whether this is during a process of being submerged underwater or becoming lost amongst a crowd in the dense urban fabric of a futuristic city. Cavallaro (2205, p.25) describes how “the images deployed by Oshii include both literal (e.g., television monitors and computer terminals) and metaphorical ones (e.g.,

reflective or semi-reflective surfaces such as mirrors, windows, fish tanks and glass cages). The latter serve to present the characters themselves with quasi-cinematic renditions of their actions and settings, thereby making them not only the actors but also the spectators in the lustreless spectacle of their daily experiences”.

In GitS (1995) these ‘virtual’ screens symbolically “double, split and indeed dismember, in a psychological sense, the characters’ identities, eroding and consolatory sense of wholeness to which they may strive to hold on” (Cavallaro, 2006, p. 25), causing them to become dislocated from their sense of reality. These virtual images occur in scenes which reveal Kusanagi’s existential questioning as a visual spectacle in which she doubts her identity at every turn. This occurs in numerous instances, such as when by chance she sees what appears to be a copy of her android body to which T h r o u g h a G l a ss D a r k l y

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another individual has been installed. It continues to reaffirm her loss of identity as even her physical form is not unique to her, her physical appearance is literally a product of a corporation, and she is as reproducible as an Ikea shelving unit. These philosophical moments litter the course of Oshii’s oeuvre and are described as ‘accents’ of cinema, moments of extreme emotion that are described through the use of shots. These images constantly distort our interpretation of the real world, using holographic projections and visual screens to alter our visual perception of what is ‘real’. Oshii experiments with the idea that if our reality is something that is dictated by our sensory experiences, then by using visual technologies we can alter the fabric of reality we inhabit; this is why he is a film director. In GitS (1995) the constant bombardment of cyberspace and virtual systems of experience create an environment that eradicates the constraints of physicality in the real world. This could be used as a way to focus our reality on our spiritual development, that if we exist in a space of ‘non-reality’ then the only thing that truly matter is our conscious experience of the world. This sense of non-reality will be incorporated in the Oshii’s House design project, creating a sense of visual distortion through the use of screens and projections. Oshii’s life is immersed in the medium of film, allowing him to manipulate the metaphysical reality of his films to represent how he views the world, and in some ways, the virtual nature of his films become more real than the physical world. Baudrillard’s theories of simulation stated that the virtual elements of modern society have begun to impact our experience of reality to the same extent as our physical environment, and that because simulation promises to give us more than what reality can provide we are ever losing our grasp on reality. GitS (1995) Oshii acknowledges this, suggesting that we can immerse ourselves in non-reality in the process of spiritual development, freed of all physical constraints. In the virtual world it is our humanity, and nothing else that defines us. The process will be introduced into the architectural spaces, using screens projections and projections to distort the physical entity of the home, combining elements of illusion and reality together to produce a home that is not defined by its physical parameters. In essence, these visual illusions will add an oneiric dimension to the project that is reminiscent of Bachelard’s oneiric house, causing Oshii to continually experience the metaphysical world of film as an architectural dimension.

Mirrors Throughout Oshii’s films, these scenes of reflection often occur repeatedly in the narrative. When describing the moments in which Kusangi develops her awareness of her identity Ruh mentions how “she is given to long periods of solitary contemplation, often in conjunction with images of water; such as the diving harbour” (Ruh, 2004, p. 132). This is seen in which Kusanagi takes an underwater dive where she floats freely in the ocean depths, resolving in a moment which pauses just before she resurfaces, gazing into her own reflection produced by the surface. The purpose of this is to reflect her desire for freedom from the constraints of her physical body, mainly due to the fact that as an 124

artificial construction her body in fact belongs to a corporation. The scene gives her the ability to escape the world whilst she is submerged, acknowledging the reflected image of herself as the trapped identity that resides above the surface. “Indeed, one of the main functions of Oshii’s work is to draw attention to the limitations of human vision and bring the viewer to a point where he/she can recognise the abstract, possibly transcendental, world underlying the seemingly solid object-oriented one we inhabit” (Wynnchuk, 2004).

The use of these mirror images highlights that in a reflection we never just see a reflected image, we see the essence of ourselves, and at times this can show us things we do not wish to see. Mirrors allow people to gaze into their own soul, often not being sure if they completely understand what they are able to see in themselves, “the deeply introspective protagonists of his films can only partially intuit this “deeper” world, but they do experience moments of private revelation in which they see themselves reflected on another surface and seem shocked by their own image” (Wynnchuk, 2004). This is the fundamental problem with identity and reality; we do not know who we truly are. These scenes are reminiscent of the Hitchcockian gaze, causing a temporal shift in the narrative as we are subject to the psychological void created by the characters in these moments of self-contemplation. “Their visual function is to

effect a deliberate suspension of the text’s momentum. Such sequences validate Robert Ebert’s contention that one of the most special formal features of anime consists of its employment of the graphic equivalent of pillow words used in Japanese poetry” (Cavallaro,

2006, p. 32). These temporal distortions draw from the cinematic techniques of Ozu and his use of pillow shots, allowing Oshii to slow the pace of his film to allow the character to ‘gaze’ at their reflection and not merely ‘look’ at it.

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WATERALL JOURNEY Poetic Immersion

77 The virtual image spread across the watery surfaces of the project creates a sense of non-reality as the cinematic experience of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s life takes hold and emerges in all facets of the project.

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Bathhouse The underwater sequence is the aspect of this film that I wish to tackle in terms of design analysis. Focusing on the dislocation effect that Kusanagiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ritual submersion has on her psyche, I intend to apply the ritual bath taking process of Japanese culture and turn into an elaborate system of self-reflection. This will take place in a space specifically tailored to reflect this process, as Kusanagi has her experience of diving, Oshii will have a Bathhouse. The ritual process will come in the form of creating a rain barrier that will encompass the bath so that the time spent bathing will occur whilst inside an encasement of water. This will attempt to replicate the cinematic feel of the submerging process, and allow Oshii to feel distanced from the world whilst performing the bathing ritual. The Bathhouse will represent the ritualistic process of cleansing in his daily life of Oshii, passing through the bath as he moves from the work side of the house through to the domestic and vice versa. The space will consist of two changing spaces so that all aspects of his work life remain separate from his living, even his clothes. The purpose of this ritual is one of cleansing, and that the bathhouse will become the void space that is neither related to work or life, it is a spiritual and meditative non-place. In order to develop this void I will be using the creative methods of filmmaking to produce my own pillow shot sequence that describes the physical and emotive qualities of the Bathhouse. The narrative process of the journey will be detailed in a storyboard, using natural elements such as the watermill to deliver the waterfall screen in a dynamic process, drawing upon the stylistic tones of Tarkovsky and Kurosawa.

78 Storyboard depicting the Majorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s submersion dive after her question of identity. The water is used to liberate her soul as she uses the ocean as the one place where she can truly be alone.

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BATHHOUSE Immersive Cleansing

T h r o u g h a G l a ss D a r k l y

79 The Bathhouse serves the function of Kusanagiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s dive, immersing Oshii into the realm of water and dislocating him from the world within his very own waterfall.

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OSHII’S HOUSE A Home for a Film Director

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Os h ii ' s H o u s e

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OSHII’S HOUSE Architectural Realisation

Through analysis of GitS (1995) and the oneiric oeuvre of Mamoru Oshii, I have created a narrative that describes an environment in which Oshii and his dogs can exist in a place of spiritual well-being. Through integrating filmmaking processes into my architectural design process I have used these design exercises to explore the way in which filmic narrative can be used to design space, imagining each space as a cinematic event that subjects the inhabitant to an experience rather than a visual architectural form. The narrative created through these design tasks has provided a solid foundation for an architectural design project, and the task now is to continue using these filmmaking techniques to fully realise the Oshii’s House project as a fully designed architectural project. In order to do this I will design the narrative process between the existing spaces already created, such as the Dollroom and the Bathhouse, and integrate these spaces into a developed proposal. This process will utilise the methods of Steven Jacobs in The Wrong House (2007), reverse engineering a series of architectural drawings from the filmic spaces that I have created through the design tasks. The filmmaking processes analysed in this research have provided me with a solid foundation to develop the narrative structure of my architectural proposition in the Oshii’s House project. Due to the success I have had in developing architectural space through these methods, I will continue to use methods of scriptwriting, storyboarding, and cinematic shots to detail the spiritual journey faced by Oshii and his dogs in the project. The next stage of this design process is to develop the events that take place between the experiences of the existing rooms to determine how the home is used in its daily use. Os h ii ' s H o u s e

80 Oshii’s House spans the waterfall becoming part of the landscape and causes the river flow to pass directly through the building.

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OSHII’S HOUSE Crushtropolis

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81 The project overlooks the cityscape of Hong Kong, connecting the jouse with both the natural and urban environments. In essence the project becomes a platform to view Hong Kong as a cinematic entity in the midst of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s virtual lifestyle.

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COURTYARD Zen Garden

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82 The Zen ciurtyard is the entrance to the house, and features a pool that fills from the redirected river, allowing it to pass directly into the centre of the structure and then overflow to create a waterfall system that runs through the levels.

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TEAHOUSE Ruinous Void

Os h ii ' s H o u s e

83 The teahouse is the first place Oshii comes after entering the building, the redirected water flow from the waterfall is guided through a purification system that automatically fills a teacup on the pedestal once the doors to the home are opened.

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SCREENROOM Immersive Cinema

84 The screenroom is where Oshii relaxes and watches his films before he sleeps, relaxing and absorbing film with the backdrop of Hong Kong in the skyline. Once his film is completed he then takes a passage to the prayer bridge on his path to the bedroom.

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PRAYER BRIDGE Ritual Reflection

85 The prayer bridge is a stop that Oshii makes between the screenroom and the Bedroom, taking a few moments to pause and reflect on the day and the film that he has just watched. The prayer bridge provides him a place to document these thoughts as both a creative and spiritual exercise.`

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OSHIIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE Roof Plan 1:200

86 The project forms along the rockface keeping the overall impact of the project relatively small in comparison to its size. The construction does not elevate the natural levels of the cliff face, instead turning downward to utilise the existing space between the crevace.

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Bedroom

Prayer Bridge

Courtyard

Entrance Walkway

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OSHIIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE Plan 1:200

87 The project overlooks the cityscape of Hong Kong, connecting the jouse with both the natural and urban environments. In essence the project becomes a platform to view Hong Kong as a cinematic entity in the midst of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s virtual lifestyle.

Elevator

Sreenroom

Cutting Room

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Structural Beams

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OSHIIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE Entrance Walkway

West Section 1:200

88 The project overlooks the cityscape of Hong Kong, connecting the jouse with both the natural and urban environments. In essence the project becomes a platform to view Hong Kong as a cinematic entity in the midst of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s virtual lifestyle.

Courtyard Bedroom

Teahouse

Prayer Bridge

Dollroom

Bathhouse

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Steel Frame Insulation FCS Sheet Cladding Bracket Bolts

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Fibre Cement Cladding Roof/Guttering Detail

OSHIIâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S HOUSE Construction Details Os h ii ' s H o u s e

The project overlooks the cityscape of Hong Kong, connecting the jouse with both the natural and urban environments. In essence the project becomes a platform to view Hong Kong as a cinematic entity in the midst of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s virtual lifestyle.

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OSHII’S HOUSE South Elevation

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90 The project overlooks the cityscape of Hong Kong, connecting the jouse with both the natural and urban environments. In essence the project becomes a platform to view Hong Kong as a cinematic entity in the midst of Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s virtual lifestyle.

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CONCLUSION Film Director as Architect

The nature of reality is a complex entity to begin to understand, and has perplexed theorists and philosophers for millennia. Films such as Stalker (1979) and Ghost in the Shell (1995) begin to analyse this issue by suggesting that the origin of ‘truth’ is inherent to the individual, and reality is understood through the process of self-discovery. Reality is therefore not a definitive understanding of the universe, but rather subjective to the individual when disregarding an anthropocentric view of the world. In order to understand our reality there are a number of methods open to us, and regardless of their spiritualistic, scientific or religious foundations, they are all means by which one can begin to define themselves.

91 The two ‘lovable’ companions, do these figures represent the fall of mankind, or at least show us how we will do this to ourselves.

In the attempt to find an architectural proposition in dealing with the subjective nature of reality, I have looked toward the processes involved in cinematic production, and how directors literally design a world through cinema, creating their own reality. Often in a directors work they form an oeuvre, something that replicates the identity of the director in their films through stylistic content, or their philosophical preoccupations. The oeuvre of a director becomes their cinematic reality. The works of SF warn us that we are losing our sense of individuality in a rapidly advancing technological age, destroying our sense of reality. Fontin’s (2011) analysis of Philip K. Dick’s works highlights that the interaction between the individual and the home has broken down and stems from the way in which technological society is eroding the previous definition of the home without providing a new one. Fontin (20110 suggested that we require C o n c l u si o n

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a new architectural language in order to redefine our sense of individuality in the home, and escape the increasing presence of Palahnuik’s Narrator ‘Ikea-man’ character of his Fight Club (1996) novel. The architecture profession is ever developing into a cult in which we appear to serve no other purpose than to satisfy our own obsession with design, becoming fixated on the development of new methods of fabrication, and focusing on social, environmental and economic factors. Due to this focus, there has been a significant reduction on the existential and ethical inquiry of just what architecture should be. This is the disease that Connah (2001) described over a decade previous, and still the profession limps on, waiting to die. Although we are ever developing the skills of the built environment to address specific issues such as urban design, regeneration, and architectural intervention, the disease that afflicts architects persists as we continue to obsess over architecture itself and not the society that uses it. We need to understand that architecture is not an entity that should be discussed; instead we need to discuss reality itself, and use architecture as tools to experiment with it. The current architectural design process has become something that produces ‘the image’, in which a project is created by producing a beautiful drawing or a render. The belief is that this creates a view from which we will experience the architecture in the real world, serving to make our world visually pleasing. This is often not the case as the architectural image fails to provide a view that we actually experience, failing to understand how a building is inhabited. However, I must state that I believe that traditional architectural skills are invaluable, and this research is not suggesting that the architectural education should dismiss the wealth of knowledge that already exists, but acknowledge that the application of these skills is causing the architectural profession to fall into obscurity. This dissertation suggests that filmmakers have a greater grasp on how their work affects reality. This dissertation has discussed the implications of integrating cinematic techniques into the architectural design process, merging the roles of the director and the architect. The architecture profession needs to develop its practices to make use of the vast array of design tools that have developed over the past century, and is currently failing to implement them into the design process. This research has highlighted the importance of narrative in the design process and suggests a number of ways in which architecture can assimilate this way of developing the architectural experience. Working with cinematic techniques in the process of architectural design fully immerses the designer in three dimensional spaces, engaging with the events and inhabitation of the architecture, as a film without narrative is not truly a film at all. This design process reduces the production of stylistic architecture that solely exists as a visual aesthetic. The working practices of Hitchcock have been important in the definition of how a film director explores the ways in which architectural forms are fashions through film, analysing how he managed to create brilliant architectural forms through the development of an intriguing an immersive narrative plot. At first it may seem ridiculous to state that architects do not consider inhabitation in their design, but this is simply 160

not true. In the process of design, an architect conceptualises the space that he wishes to create, but its existence is rationalised through the process of drawing and visualisation. Until that moment when an ‘idea’ of conceived space is converted from the metaphysical plane of the mind into the physical plane of the real world, it is still just an ‘idea’. This is where we should integrate filmmaking with architectural design, to develop solid briefs that rationalise the experience of a space before we even begin to develop an architectural form. Currently, the architectural schools fail to provide any requirement to visualise inhabitation and to account for the fourth dimension of the universe, time. The only acknowledgment of time in most architectural projects is found in the articulation of how a static image will change during the course of the seasons, showing how the climate affects the image of a building. In the design process, subjects of time and inhabitation remain ‘ideas’ and fail to reach any level of visualised rationalisation. Architecture is designed for people to inhabit, but we often fail to address how the experience of a building is felt for longer than a brief moment. This is where I believe the skills taught in the disciplines of filmmaking provide the greatest insight, with a director becoming able to fully understand how the characters of a narrative engage with their environment. This can be developed through screenplays, script writing or storyboarding, so that the experience of a space is rationalised visually, and the form of the cinematic architecture (or set) moulds to the needs of the user (or character), following the principle of ‘form follow function’, or more precisely in the terms of cinema ‘form follows experience’. Though cinematic technique is invaluable in analysing the current faults with the architectural discipline, it still does not address the failings that current architectural homes suffer from. Through examining the works of Hitchcock we can begin to understand the ways in which architectural practice can be shaped through cinema, however, it is the study of directors such as Tarkovsky, Ozu, and Kuraswa that have shown the ways in which spiritual connotations can be translated into the existential space of film, offering a glimpse into the relationship between architecture and the individual. Tarkovsky often deals with themes of loss of identity and attempts to discuss these concepts through the creation of ‘poetic spaces’ in his films. Tarkovsky (1986, p.37) argues that “art, like science, is a means of assimilating the world, an instrument for knowing it in the course of man’s journey towards what is called ‘absolute truth’”, making him turn to artistic principles to create this poetic space. These artistic principles stem from the practical implementation of Shinto philosophy in a

number of Japanese cultural practices, which gain spiritual value through ritualistic practice.

Ritual practices allow the practitioner to learn more about themselves in the evaluation of how their mental and physical attributes have developed through a process that fundamentally never alters. This philosophy is seen in Kurosawa’s films which portray the spiritual development of the samurai as a journey of self-discovery achieved through ritual discipline. In order for architectural form to negate this aspect of reality, it too must develop a way in which the inhabitant can experience a journey of self-discovery.

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Hagakure (1979) reminds us that the philosophies of the samurai are not about war and conflict, which was simply the era in which they were developed. Oshii’s reinterpretation of the philosophical concepts found in Japanese mythology is ever more relevant in our advancing technological society, discussing the methods by which we can define our sense of identity from philosophies which have not changed in centuries. Oshii’s theories suggest that it is the way in which we deal with our humanity through our physicality that has led to our loss of identity. Architecture needs to address this need for humanity to evolve beyond its physical form, associating it with elements that we as individuals choose to define our existence. Oshii’s directorial technique allows for spiritual growth through the use of a narrative journey formed in the existential space of film, portraying the development of his characters through a metaphysical journey rather than arising from a particular moment or event. When creating architecture through filmmaking it is important that not just one element of the process is adapted to meet the needs of architectural design. The metaphysical discussions in GitS (1995) are successful because of the layering of techniques present in the film. It is the combination of architectural form, character, and narrative working together that delineates the journey to enlightenment. In this way we can see that the architectural application of cinema can be studied as a means of constructing shots, views, and spaces, but also in the way it deals with creating an architectural philosophy through narrative design. The architectural form of the home needs to adopt the essence of cinematic space, becoming an architectural version of a ‘spiritual journey’. Through examining Oshii’s cinematic technique we can see that it is the wealth of existential and metaphysical discussion that makes GitS (1995) such an iconic film. In analysing the films narrative structure and allowing it to shape the design process, the project has evolved into something that is more than just architectural form. The design has developed a commentary on the nature of reality, and focused on what is important in our lives, and what aspects can be altered or removed from our experience of the world to bring us closer to our spiritual essence. The design exercises have given me the opportunity to experiment with the variety of ways in which filmmaking can be integrated with architectural design, developing the way that areas of space relate to one another through experience, and to give greater clarity to the way in which an individual travels through an architecture. This form of animated architectural image removes the static nature of traditional drawings and allows a space to become real. The adaptation of directorial design processes was successful as it changed the way in which designs and experience were conceived at the conceptual level, dramatically altering the architectural priorities of the project. The most successful directorial process that was used in the design process was the use of storyboarding. They allowed me to create a series of images that described the experience of the architecture, rather than relying on the emotive qualities of select static renders to evoke the experiential quality of the architectural form that I was attempting to create. The sequencing of the storyboard images directly influenced the way in which the Oshii’s House project was constructed and represented through the design tasks, giving me the ability to design the 162

narrative of the spiritual journey from beginning to end as a filmic experience, highlighting were there were long spaces of uneventful process in the ritual practices and cause me to re-evaluate the narrative process. The adaptation of cinematic camera shots, in particular the use of pillow shots, gave me the opportunity to design space as spiritual events, something that could not have been achieved through conventional architectural drawing. The poetic nature of these events is something that both Oshii and Tarkovsky have perfected in their cinematic technique, and through developing architectural spaces from this process I developed a poetic style of architectural animation that translated that effect. Static images simply cannot convey the essence of these elements of the project, requiring that the experience of time is factored into the drawing, and in turn, the architectural design process. In many levels this is reminiscent of the proposal by Nic Clear (2006), using video to add another dimension to the production of architectural drawings. The problem with the use of ‘video’ and not ‘film’ in the architectural design process is that there is something essentially marketable about the use of video. The traditional use of flyby renders and animation sequences in architectural design appears to provide an immersive drawing that seduces the viewer through video technique rather than architectural proposition, but they are soulless experiences, emerging as advertisement campaigns for a project. It is this determination to ‘market’ architecture that is killing it, constantly trying to reinvent itself like a pop icon so that it will be appreciated once more. This glamour will not cure the architectural disease Connah describes; it has merely allowed the profession to ‘not die’. This is why I believe this project is successful, as it delineates a way that filmmaking can evolve with architectural practice on an existential level, and not become the newest architectural gimmick. The implementation of virtual images in the project was also highly successful, adding a layer of experience and life to the project. However, I felt that the influence of the virtual aspects of the project were not as balanced to the physical elements, or that they were appropriately used in the spaces of ritual practice. The integration of the virtual world in architecture could be an entirely different branch of this research, perhaps by re-examining Fontin’s (2011) and Oshii’s discussions of the symbiotic relationship between man and technology in society, a form of virtualised experience could be integrated into an architectural experience. The processes of the film symphony are something that I believe should be integrated into the process of urban design, as the process is most effective in dealing with the experience of the city scale. In these design projects, the film symphony did not give me enough control on how to deal with the essence of reality on the individual scale, making it difficult to develop the narrative strategy into something specific to Oshii. However, I do believe that the process of the film symphony could be used to further develop this research project and, using the filmic description of Hong Kong in GitS (1995), endeavour to develop an architectural masterplan to create the city of ‘Crushtropolis’ in the attempt to try and truly ‘design’ a city.

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The Oshiiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s House design project proved that the architectural design process can benefit from integrating filmmaking methods in its development. The fundamental tool that needs to be extracted from these filmic methods is narrative, and to use it to generate a compelling architectural argument before any aspects of the design occur. These filmmaking techniques are not limited to the scope of research that has been delineated in this dissertation, as previously mentioned, cinematic techniques can be used to develop the narrative process of any architectural form, whether this is the design of a domestic home or a large scale city environment. It is the narrative of any film that determines its success, you cannot make a good film from a bad script, and you cannot make a good architecture with a bad brief.

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Abhrams, J.J. (2008). Fringe. U.S.A.: Warner Home Video. [DVD] Baichwal, J. (2006). Manufactured Landscapes. Canada: Zeitgeist. [DVD] Hitchcock, A. (1948). Rope. U.K.: Universal Pictures [DVD] Hitchcock, A. (1954). Rear Window. U.K.: Universal Pictures [DVD] Hitchcock, A. (1958). Vertigo. U.K.: Universal Pictures [DVD] Hitchcock, A. (1963). The Birds. U.K.: Universal Pictures [DVD] Hitchcock, A. (1963). The Lodger: The London Fog. U.K.: Universal Pictures [DVD] Kamiyama, K. (2006). Ghost in the Shell: Solid State Society â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Stand Alone Complex. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [DVD] Miike, T. (2011). 13 Assassins. Japan: Artificial Eye. [DVD] Oshii, M. (1983). Dallos O.V.A. Japan: Studio Pierrot [DVD] Oshii, M. (1987). Patlabor. Japan: Production I.G. [DVD] Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [DVD] Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell 2.0. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [DVD] Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [DVD] Jones, D. (2009). Moon. U.S.A.: Sony Pictures. [DVD] Roddenberry, G. (1966). Star Trek. U.S.A.: Paramount. [DVD] Scott, R. (1982). Blade Runner. U.S.A.: Warner Bros. [DVD] Serling, R. (1958). The Twilight Zone. U.S.A.: Fremantle. [DVD] Tarkovsky, A. (1972). Solaris. Russia: Artificial Eye. [DVD] Tarkovsky, A. (1979). Stalker. Russia: Artificial Eye. [DVD] Tarkovsky, A. (1983). Nostalghia. Russia: Artificial Eye. [DVD] Zwick, E. (2003). The Last Samurai. U.S.A.: Warner Home Video [DVD] 170

Images

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19. http://wondersinthedark.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/man-camera-1-copy.jpg[Accessed: 07/12/11] 20. Hitchcock, A. (1959). North by Northwest. U.K.: Universal Pictures [Film Still Photo] 21. http://wondersinthedark.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/man-camera-1-copy.jpg [Accessed: 07/12/11] 22. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 23. Tarkovsky, A. (1983). Nostalghia. Russia: Artificial Eye. [Film Still Photo] 24. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 25. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 26. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 27. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 28. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 29. Tarkovsky, A. (1983). Nostalghia. Russia: Artificial Eye. [Film Still Photo] 30. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 31. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 32. Tarkovsky, A. (1979) Stalker. Rotwang’s House. [Film Still Photo] 33. http://www.flickr.com/photos/certified_su/1838418987/[Accessed: 07/12/11] 34. Zwick, E. (2003). The Last Samurai. U.S.A.: Warner Home Video [Film Still Photo] 35. http://nuage-auspicieux.be/images/Kyoto_Meditation_Room.png [Accessed: 07/12/11] 36. Zwick, E. (2003). The Last Samurai. U.S.A.: Warner Home Video [Film Still Photo] 37. Miike, T. (2011). 13 Assassins. Japan: Artificial Eye. [Film Still Photo] 38. Ozu, Y. (1949). Late Spring. Japan: VFI Video [Film Still Photo] 39. Ozu, Y. (1949). Late Spring. Japan: VFI Video [Film Still Photo] 40. Kurosawa (1956) Seven Samurai. Japan: BFI Video. [Film Still Photo] 41. Kurosawa (1950). Roshomon. Japan: BFI Video [Film Still Photo] 42. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo]

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43. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 44. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 45. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 46. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 47. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 48. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 49. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 50. Copyright to author 51. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 52. http://www.kyleriedel.net/teach/images/giacomocosta.png[Accessed: 07/12/11] 53. http://io9.com/5827538/gorgeous-shots-of-the-real+life-hong-kong-locations-featured-inghost-in-the-shell [Accessed: 02/12/11] 54. http://io9.com/5827538/gorgeous-shots-of-the-real+life-hong-kong-locations-featured-inghost-in-the-shell [Accessed: 02/12/11] 55. http://io9.com/5827538/gorgeous-shots-of-the-real+life-hong-kong-locations-featured-inghost-in-the-shell [Accessed: 07/12/11] 56. http://io9.com/5827538/gorgeous-shots-of-the-real+life-hong-kong-locations-featured-inghost-in-the-shell [Accessed: 06/12/11] 57. Copyright to author 58. http://www.edwardburtynsky.com/WORKS/Breaking_Ground/Tailings/Nickel_Tailings_34.jpg[Accessed: 07/12/11] 59. Copyright to author 60. Copyright to author 61. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 62. Masamune, S. 1995. The Analysis of Ghost in the Shell. Japan. Kodansha. 63. Copyright to author 64. Copyright to author B ib l i o g r a p h y

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65. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 66. http://thenewyorkoptimist.com/images/BellPou2.jpg 67. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 68. Oshii, M. (2004). Ghost in the Shell: Innocence. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 69. Copyright to author 70. Copyright to author 71. Copyright to author 72. Copyright to author 73. Copyright to author 74. Copyright to author 75. Copyright to author 76. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 77. Copyright to author 78. Oshii, M. (1995). Ghost in the Shell. Japan: Manga Entertainment. [Film Still Photo] 79. Copyright to author 80. Copyright to author 81. Copyright to author 82. Copyright to author 83. Copyright to author 84. Copyright to author 85. Copyright to author 86. Copyright to author 87. Copyright to author 88. Copyright to author 89. Copyright to author

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