Thesis Document

FINDING THE INEFFABLE

A SEARCH FOR MEANING THROUGH THE EXPERIENCE OF ARCHITECTURE

SANCHELLE LEE

Thesis Document USF SACD 2015 2016

Figure 1

FINDING THE INEFFABLE

A SEARCH FOR MEANING THROUGH THE EXPERIENCE OF ARCHITECTURE

SANCHELLE LEE MAY 2016 A Master’s Research Project presented to the Graduate School of Architecture and Community Design at the University of South Florida in partial fulfillment of the requirements of the degree of Master’s in Architecture.

THESIS CHAIR

STAN RUSSELL Professor of Architecture University of South Florida

COMMITTEE

STEVE COOKE Professor of Architecture University of South Florida TORU SHIMIZU, Ph.D. Professor & Chair of Psychology University of South Florida

“The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion that stands at the cradle of true art and true science.”

― Albert Einstein

CONTENTS 11

abstract

15

perspective

17

the senses

31

memory & novelty

37

disconnect & reconnect

47

a discovery

51

story canvasing

59 a music box 65 precedent studies 75

japan

83 a place for mindfulness 125 list of figures 131 work cited

You must understand the context to understand the subject. Together they create the essence.

ABSTRACT Some places call out to us and invite us into conversation; while other places we pass through without noticing. The former can make us stand in awe; to feel the need to not disturb the moment, to not speak. Spaces that often call to us have a sense of sacredness to them, even if it doesn’t directly hold a religious or spiritual meaning for us.

These powerful places often leave Us with feelings that we cannot put into words. This ineffable experience creates a feeling as though we have made a visceral connection to something; be it to the self, others, an idea, or something more profane. These places hold great mystery not only in the physical way they evoke these feelings but also in what these feelings are and how they affect the people who experience them. The power of certain spaces can provoke that sense of ineffability, it can create that meaning that many of us find necessary to understand our existence.

There are places that people often associate with this phenomenon. Memorials, temples, and churches, are all places that can carry this sense of ineffability. People often feel a powerful draw when interacting or being in these types of places. These places share several things in common. They are all built with a purpose in mind, a single intention. When we are there we know what we are supposed to do. We often feel a powerful connection to other people and the customs and rituals that are held there. But the feelings they leave us with are often easy to explain and understand; they have a source and we know and understand that source.

There is another type of ineffable space that lacks the obvious associations we understand from the former. It is harder to define. It has a quality of slipping away right when you feel that you are on the verge of its discovery. We often

happen upon these places and in uncovering them we see them as important and special. We feel connected to them and yet we do not quite understand what we are feeling connected to or why. With this type of sacred place feelings of calm, transcendence, enlightenment, awareness, respect, and many others depending on the space, culminate into an overall sense of importance and sacredness; that in that moment we feel awake and alive.

Many of these places have characteristics that set them apart from the mundane and create in them the vessel for a powerful human experience. Through our senses we perceive the world, our mind interpreting our surroundings into a meaningful experience. We rely on our memory of our past experiences in order to meet and change with new ones. These spaces often find a way of disconnecting us from the ordinary every day and offer us a chance to see the world for an evanescent moment in a way that is unique to us. Through the act of Story Canvasing we take our experience and project meaning onto it.

The latter type of space is one that is associated with places that stand on their own; they have uniqueness to them.

They don’t symbolize something we understand as sacred but yet evoke these feelings within us. This unresolved placement of sacred is mysterious and our curiosity in it is what I think gives this type of space the power to provoke us further. Because of its lack of association with elements commonly thought of as sacred, the latter sacred space becomes a vessel for creativity in the architectural world.

In the design of place making and architectural form, the use of elements that bring on this sense of ineffability influence not only qualities of architecture and place, but the program, function, and use of such places.

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Figure 2

INEFFABLE ARCHITECTURE Existential thought claims that life is devoid of meaning, and in that, the only meaning that exists is the meaning we create for ourselves. In our meaningless experience it is our own mind that contributes meaning. The built environment is how we transfix meaning onto the world. The ways in which we sculpt experience and create an effect, using space, is how we create meaning for people who experience it.

This is why elements that affect the human experience and the care in which we show our thought and effort in design becomes essential in creating these existential moments that give meaning to life. Just as we create meaning in the world we too create architecture as the vessel to express such meaning.

At some point in time most people have had an ineffable experience. An experience that was so great and so powerful that they were unable to put what they were feeling into words. This experience often leaves us a little baffled about what exactly we went through and what made us feel that way. We often associate these types of experiences with nature, some beautiful landscape, different forms of art, but a lot of the time it is associated with architecture. The place in which these experiences happen often play a large role in what we are experiencing whether or not we are fully aware of that. Architecture acts as a great vessel for creating meaning. Architecture connects us to history, time, space and gives us a human scale on which to relate ourselves.

Architecture is the means by which we understand and confront the human existential condition. It relates, mediates, and projects meaning. It dictates our consciousness back to the world and toward our own sense of self and being.

“Significant architecture makes us experience ourselves as complete embodied and spiritual beings.� 1

1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 11

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the PSYCHOLOGIST

Figure 3

The question behind “what is happening” has always driven my interest in any area. The science behind the human mind.

What physically causes us to behave, perceive, and act with our environment the way we do. Understanding human behavior; the psychology behind what we do is the foundation for my research.

the PHILOSOPHER

Figure 4

Beyond the brain lies the mind. The collection of our perceptions into one conscious united thought. The reasoning we give ourselves for our actions, our values and ideas, the meaning we find behind our lives. Philosophy, like psychology, is a frame of mind in which I look for the “why.”

the CREATOR

Figure 5

The frame of mind of the creator, the artist, the architect is to focus on the “how.” How we accomplish the task of creating the world we perceive to share with others. To give our existence meaning and to share that meaning. The creator must find a way to convey this, to place it in the world.

PERSPECTIVE Life is a collection of memories that culminate into one overall state of being. We experience the world one moment at a time, but it collects for us an overall state of mind.

Every situation looks different, every idea a different outcome, every act a different meaning, all because of the perspective at which we see the facts. We are more than one self, we are a collection of ever changing pieces. With every day we live a new experience we encounter in life leaves us changed.

This thesis changed its appearance several times as I processed the research. I realized it was the perspective at which I was looking at the information. I realized that I am the psychologist, the philosopher, the creator and to balance these perspectives I had to embrace each one equally. In order to understand how and why we think the way we do, what creates meaning for our lives I had to understand the foundation on which we are able to think. The elements that allow us to perceive the world, the science behind the way this happens. To understand how to create meaning I had to understand the way in which we reason with the world. The way we interpret what is happening around us and how we deal with this interpretation; the philosophy behind life.

How can one create without understanding themselves and who they are creating for. The ineffable experience is a different experience for everyone, a different frame of mind, a different meaning found, but the one factor that brings this phenomenon to everyone is the way in which it leaves us changed. A visceral effect that we cannot find words for.

Existential thought is the notion that existence precedes

essence. Though often thought of and associated with a nihilistic perspective, this idea has often grounded me.

In fact it gives me freedom, in that, we exist and we must create meaning for ourselves. We are alive and we have the opportunity to embrace life and create our own realities; we create our essence. So these perspectives behind psychology, philosophy, and creation are strong themes throughout my thesis.

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the SENSES

the PSYCHOLOGIST

Being in the world, when all senses are engaged, we feel that what we are perceiving is “real”; we are connected to our surroundings.

“Architecture articulates the experiences of being-in-the-world and strengthens our sense of reality and self; it does not make us inhabit worlds of mere fabrication and fantasy.” 1 We have many senses beyond the primary five we are taught. There are many ways in which we perceive the world around us. We construct our world by receiving physical energy from our environment by way of neural signals, a process called sensation. We then organize and interpret those sensations, a process called perception. Sensation and perception act as one process in our brain 2 that lets us interpret the world around us.

Our senses are constantly feeding our brain, that rests in darkness, information from our environment. Our senses and our perception of them are quite subjective and to an extent we create the world that we perceive. We often think of hearing a sound, seeing a color, smelling a flower and tasting our food but our senses are never perceived by our brain as independent factors, instead our senses are always working together to create a unified picture of our state of being. When our senses do not sync up and our eyes tell us something different than our ears, we will feel uneasy until we investigate further.

Figure 3

QUOTE: Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 10-11 1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 11 2 Myers, Experiencing Psychology, p. 141

“Our contact with the world takes place at the boundary line of the self...�

-Juhani Pallasmaa

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Figure 6

SIGHT As light travels to our eyes, it passes through, and allows our brain to see. Sight is our most relied upon sense. Though vision allows us to see the world around us, it distances us from that world. We see ourselves as objects in a world of objects with measurable distance in between us. The eye investigates, it observes, but it does not touch.

It presents us with detail, the object of our focus but it is the unfocused vision that we rely on most. Our peripheral vision grounds us in our surroundings. It is the unconscious context in which we are placed while focusing on our subject. This peripheral vision pulls our bodies into the space helping to dissolve the measurable distance between us and the objects that surround us.

Darkness and shadow are powerful. They relieve the eye of sharp detail and make the unfocused more intense. Often when we think of sight we think of light but shadow is what gives objects depth and volume. We understand space through the shadows it creates and the way the intensity of light alternates. The ambiguity that shadow can cause forces our brain to fill in the missing information. This is where we find imagination. In darkness we create a new picture with all of our senses. “The imagination and daydreaming are stimulated by dim light and shadow. In order to think clearly, the sharpness of vision has to be suppressed, for thoughts travel with an absent-minded and unfocused gaze.” 1 When we see things unclearly the ambiguity of what we are seeing makes for our brain an opportunity to imagine or see what we would like to see. Pallasmaa refers to the Chinese painting of a foggy mountain or the raked sand gardens of Japan, these “give rise to an unfocused

way of looking, evoking a trance-like, meditative state. The absent-minded gaze penetrates the surface of the physical image and focuses in infinity.” 2 Sight is the one sense that can really utilize and bring forth imagination through this uncertainty of its subject. Many forms of art employ these techniques. The observer, through the ambiguity of sight, can become an active participant in the work of art. They finish what the artist has begun.

Though sight gives us distance our connection is instant and we can be consumed with emotion. Beautiful landscapes, the fog rising off a lake in the morning, the way light catches due on the leaves of trees, the beautiful colors of a sunset, these are things that only through our eyes we can see that part of the world.

1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 46 2 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 47 19

Figure 7

SOUND Sound is one of the most powerful of our senses. It is one of the best senses for placing us directly and almost instantaneously in the moment.. We understand that the sound comes from outside ourselves but it has a way of feeling as though it is an internal sensation. While sight closes us off from the world as soon as we close our eyes, doing the same can cause our sense of sound to be heightened, giving us an even stronger connection. Sound allows us to “see” the world where vision fails us. Water dripping in the depths of a dark room creates a volume into the void of darkness, a space in which we can then see. “The space traced by the ear in the darkness becomes a cavity sculpted directly in the interior of the mind.” 1 We often forget the impact sound has on our spatial awareness. We feel sound just as we hear it. Pallasmaa explains in The Eyes of the Skin that “buildings do not react to our gaze, but they do return our sounds back to our ears.”2 Sound needs to make sense of what our eyes see, what our body feels. Friedrich Nietzsche said that “the dancer has his ear in his toes.” 3 Our auditory cortex is responsible for differentiating and focusing on what you hear. This area of the brain then relates this information to other parts of the brain so that all of the senses can converge on a consensus about what is being perceived. When we listen to a song our auditory cortex is communicating with our motor areas of the brain, or occipital lobe to watch our partner, our amygdala to allow the music to affect our mood and many other places. Our brain acts as a one unit system even though it is made of many different areas, responsible for a plethora of things.

Some music is so beautiful, so moving, the song so powerful that all that can be done is to shut one’s eyes, This action of closing the eyes being the closest way of emerging one’s self in the moment. A thickness in the chest, a tightness of the throat and a burn in the nose, the indicators of the emotional overload that is about to bring them to tears.

Our brains are maybe one of the most complicated things in the known universe and yet understanding parts of it can be so simple. Sometimes we are brought to tears by the most sorrowful circumstances and yet uniting with a long lost friend could achieve the same result. Our bodies react to different situations in a similar way. The rush of emotion we get from life’s events are often shown in similar ways. It is our perception of our surroundings that we decide and label our emotions. Tears as happiness or tears of sadness.

Pallasmaa talks about how our modern environment, contemporary architecture, blinds our ears. The materials we use absorbs all sounds. Architects no longer strive to use sound in order to express the volume and scale of space.4 Whether or not it is intended, every space effects our sense of sound. No sound is still information that our brain in using to understand our experience. So if a space reflects its surfaces or absorbs the observer, a decision has been made. Though we may think we see the volume of the space or we hear the echo of a space, it is not until these two are combined that our brain can really begin to understand the reality of the space.

1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 50 2 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 49 3 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 14

4 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 52

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Figure 8

TOUCH Our skin is the most intimate of our senses. Its need to seek out the world, to embrace it, to explore. We understand the weight of the world through our skin. We understand substance through touch; the density; the texture. Our skin gives and receives heat- the world in a constant state of exchange. Just as we see shadow we touch it. We feel the warmth of the sun leave our face. We touch gravity through our movements. The pressure the foot gives the ground. We push on the world and the world pushes back. We crave connection and intimacy from the spaces we inhabit. We want to touch the wall and to lie on our backs across the floor. “The skin reads the texture, weight, density and temperature of matter. The surface of an old object, polished to perfection by the tool of the craftsman and the assiduous hand of its users, seduces the stroking of the hand.�1 No one longs to touch dry wall, but textures that talk about nature, about process, the smooth wood floor, the chiseled stone wall, the steel knob of the door, these materials we long to touch because they tell us about our world.

In creating unique experiences in architecture, the emphasis should be placed not only on the materials we use but in what novel ways we can use those materials to evoke the skin into conversation. We rarely touch the world. We sit in chairs, we touch a door knob, but we are missing an entire textural world that architecture has the power to provide us with. When visiting Ryon-ji, a Zen garden in Kyoto, Japan, I removed my shoes to enter the building, and the contact that my feet made with the wooden floor was an amazing experience. The wood had been so worn down by years of

visitors that it was as smooth as glass. The wood was so polished, that it was even slippery, and I had to take my time to walk because of the lack of friction normally found when walking on wood. This novel experience made this place that much more special to me. I was walking, touching, and looking at how the light shined off of its polished surface, all the while thinking about the many people who had shared in this experience before me. It placed me in a frame of mind to understand time through this material.

It placed me in a continuum of past, present, and future. I understood where I was in reference to my existence and the existence of this place and it made me aware of the human condition. This tactile engagement focused my mind on the overall experience of this place, and that experience left me with one of the most powerful effects I had ever felt.

1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 56

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Figure 9

SMELL Smell has the power to evoke the oldest most detailed memories. We can instantly be placed in a memory long ago just by the scent of something from our past. Though we may not be able to recall what someone said to us, or the exact detail of how a room looked, smell can be remembered with such accuracy. The way smell can evoke the sense of nostalgia demonstrates the deep tie that it has to our emotions.

Smell is deeply linked to taste and together they remain one of our most pleasurable experiences. The way in which we breathe the air that fills our mouth and nose. The sensation of moist and dry air tasting differently. We smell the cold day just as we feel it. Smell can act as a stimulant or can calm one into a state of well being. It can act as a threshold into the unknown, as a calming hand that can guide you in and lead you back out.

Smell is completely subjective and depending on the person’s state of mind or particular disposition at the time, smells can be enjoyable, disgusting, or any other number of feelings. The hungry person has the sensation of their stomach gurgling and their mouth watering. The same person after eating may detest the scent of their favorite food. In this same way, because we are a collection of our experiences, one scent may be appealing to one person, bringing back wonderful memories, and mean nothing or bring back negative memories to the next person.

Smell is often forgotten in architectural experience and yet it is so intertwined with our experience of a place. Smell immerses us in a place. It gives us a sense of life like no other sense. The way that a stagnant scent can remind us

of death and decay. Yet the movement of air and fresh scent can bring life to a space. Nature is a fantastic example of how freshness emphasizes life and how that can make us in turn feel alive. When architecture cuts us off from the outside world and gives us recycled air to breath in, over and over, where is the life that is intrinsic to our well being. While visiting in Japan, incense was burning at many entrances into sacred spaces. This threshold of smell was very powerful. Though my body felt the scale change as I stepped through the door way, and my foot touched the smooth floor, and I watched the smoke spill into the air, it was the smell of the incense that will always be the most dramatic in my memories. The smell of the incense mixed with the unique smell of the place and its years of habitation have created a unique signature that specifically identifies it.

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Figure 10

ORIENTATION To move we use our sense of balance, stability, posture, and the coordination of our muscles. We understand our body in relation to itself. We understand the relationship of ourselves to all elements outside of us. Our mind feels the scale of a room in the relation it has to our body. We stare into a void and can place ourselves in that void. When we feel the compression of space our body uses its spatial awareness to make us actually feel the compression and to adjust to it. We do not only understand it, we feel it. The material space pushing on our minds. We are aware that the world is outside of us and that the world moves towards and away from us and we in turn are part of it and separate from it.

Our sense of orientation is a complex and useful way in which we understand our surroundings and how space changes as we move through it. Orientation is a combination of time, space and the individual. Everything changes with time, from moment to moment, and how we adjust to ourselves and the space we inhabit in relation to that time. Orientation can encompass many of our senses but balance and proprioception are two of the most important senses when understanding space and architecture.

Proprioception is the awareness of where our body and body parts are located in space. This sense of orientation helps us to understand things like scale, compression, rhythm, elevation, openness, and many other elements that are used in architecture. We understand balance in relation to gravity through the use of the fluid-filled vestibular system in our ears. This same system works with acceleration, the eyes, and muscles to cancel out our own shakiness from

our movement. 1 This acute awareness of ourselves and our muscles are often not noticed as we move in the usual linear fashion, as we sit in our chairs, but when we come upon a environment that allows us to move out of our automated movements into a terrain that takes an active mind to navigate, we gain something. Even something like stairs can become automatic, with the usual lengths of rise and run, but some stairs, maybe generations old, can vary in material, size, physical soundness and your mind becomes aware of the muscles in your legs and feet, the balance your arms provide, the objects that surround you as you lean towards them to pull yourself up. This spatial awareness of the individual and their surroundings have become neglected. One of the most interesting parts of nature is the way that there is always a novel way of moving through it; we create our own path.

1 Jarrett, How Many Senses Do We Have, 2014

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Figure 11

TIME Time is integral to any experience. Our sense of time is completely subjective to our surroundings and frame of mind. A moment can last for eternity and yet a day can pass with what feels like minutes. Novel information takes longer for the brain to process making our mind perceive time as passing slower. Our sense of time is the foundation by which we measure our experience. Time and space are the necessary elements for any action to occur. Time has the power to control memory. Our perception of time passing gives us the opportunity to fully live the moments in which we take part- we engage, relax, reflect and find ourselves in time. “A pebble polished by waves is pleasurable to the hand, not only because of its soothing shape, but because it expresses the slow process of its formation; a perfect pebble on the palm materializes duration, it is time turned into shape.�1 The concept of time and the nostalgia that it is associated with is an example of how we interpret time and how it reminds us of the human condition. When thinking of architecture and a direct understanding of time as a moment, or series of moments, that we perceive events unfolding around us we can begin to appreciate time as one of our senses.

Designing for time to be an integral part of an experience is crucial in attempting to evoke an emotional response from the viewer. The choreography of time and experience are essential to help place someone in a state of mind to be open to certain experiences.

I spoke to someone about one of their ineffable experiences and they explained that they stumbled upon a tiny church and when they went inside and sat down, there was only a

little light coming in through a small window. There were many candles lit, and incense burning and that this person had to sit there a long time for their eyes to adjust from the bright light of the day to the darkness of the room. It was over this drawn out experience that time allowed the space to slowly come alive to him. He sat there and over time he began to see the detail of the room, the things that were hanging on the wall slowly revealed themselves. By this time the sound of the music playing in the church had begun to consume him and all these senses, all of these elements, came together into an extremely powerful moment for him. This probably would not have happened if the room had been brightly lit and there was no investment of time.

Something that this story also shows is the way in which all of our senses work together to create an overall perception of an experience. Through this culmination of our senses being enriched in a novel way, we begin to see what causes these emotional responses from designed space.

1 Pallasmaa, The Eyes of the Skin, p. 58

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MEMORY & NOVELTY

the PHILOSOPHER

The enjoyment of serene landscapes or a smiling face are an innate human experience centered around our biology but the extent of enjoyment we receive from these things are determined by our past experiences.1 In order to understand our the human response to space, Senthilingam uses an understanding of neuroscience to explain our interaction with it.

Relying on our memory and past experiences we are able to have an initial reaction to space. Then through our curiosity of novel experiences we take part in the intrigue of what the architecture may offer. The “gist” is the first glance that sets the frame of mind of the observer. This gist is further expanded on as more details are taken in and layered with past experiences. “This visual experience is effected by tactile sensations from materials, visual distraction from objects and things such as smell aid in forming an experience.”1 Curiosity maintains awe and intrigue after the initial reaction to the space has passed. This change in perspective is critical to our brains.

We do not like immediate outcomes, our brain craves discovery and the need for new information. A changing perspective is what keeps us interested.1 We always connect with something we know already. The feelings and emotions come only once we relate ourselves to the environment.

Figure 4

QUOTE: Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 62 1 Senthilingam, The Mysterious Neuroscience of Holy Buildings, 2015

“It is exactly that blend of the traditional and the inventive which makes the work of art both understandable and interesting.�

-Terence Grieder

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Figure 12

In the Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture, Lindsay Jones goes into similar ideas on what connects us to different places. Jones explains this idea of memory and novelty in what he calls the “double mediation.”1 Architecture consists of a twofold mediation in which it “draw(s) the attention of the viewer to itself, to satisfy his taste [a centripetal sort of function], and then to redirect it away from itself to the greater whole of the context of life which it accompanies [a 1 centrifugal sort of function]. In order to have a transformative effect architecture cannot simply elicit admiration of the viewer but also have a component of variation, originality, or novelty that forces the viewer to readjust their taste.

Effective architecture must orient just as it must disorient the observer. These elements of the familiar and strange act to allure and to enliven.2 Through architecture and history we connect to a world outside our own that exists through only our perception of it. Architecture has no meaning other than the meaning the person experiencing gives it. For the person to give it meaning it must effect them. The meaning we create is not always an extreme concept, such as the meaning of life, but is often simple, such as happiness. The most powerful are usually the most primal emotions. The ineffable experience is a perfect example. Jones goes on to explain that juxtaposition is necessary in confirming and frustrating the expectations of the viewer in all works of art.3 Jones uses the example of the labyrinth to demonstrate this. “Upon entering the maze...confidence is preserved by the knowledge that there is an exit and as you become familiar with the route there is an enjoyment in recognizing the landmarks...there is also the pleasure of encountering 4 the unexpected-secret nooks.” This familiar and unfamiliar relationship is what architecture uses in order to invite us into conversation.

There is something very intriguing about a library. At times it feels similar to an ancient ruin. A connection to the people who once were. Ruins intrigue us through the connection we feel to the people before us. It affords us the opportunity to create their story for ourselves. We imagine them, who they were, what they did, what mattered based on our own experience of the world and our gift of imagination. Like the ruins, we project the same kinds of meaning on the people who have left behind their gift to the world. Our collective knowledge lies on the shelves waiting for our discovery. We imagine the people who have contributed to these works, who they were, what they believed. We also imagine our possession of such knowledge and wonder at the change it could bring us.

Ritual is how we connect to others with an understood set of behaviors that are felt by all who participate. We see this in our interaction with the library. The interesting thing about a library is that they are familiar to us; a comforting nostalgia.

The ritual we adhere to while in a library is reflected in the way we whisper, we never run, we respect the books both physically and intangibly. There is a sacredness to the books and the places we house them. Through this sense of ritual, our connection to the other people there, and the connection to those who created the books, even a connection to our society, we feel that we are part of a larger whole that values the sacredness of the book. But there is also a sense of novelty; the labyrinth. We could wander down the aisles and randomly select a book and it would be a discovery.

1 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 63 2 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 63-66 3 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 66

4 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 70

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Figure 13

Jones introduces Anne Buttimer’s theory of “lived reciprocity” which is the twofold tension variously imagined as a juxtaposition.1 Rudolf Arnheim, a psychologist of perception, agrees that these paired sensations of “clarity and simplicity for the purpose of orientation and variety and tension for stimulation constitute general biological needs for all species.” 1 An example of such a lived reciprocity is the creation of something like music. All music has a style in which it meets the expectations of the culture and time.

In order to create new music there is a slight deviation from the expectations of the known style. This change from our framework of expectations is met with a reaction from the audience. Like music, art, architecture and all forms of creativity, this pairing of the new and the old gives life to the work when it conforms to a collective shared style and then forms some deviation from that style.2

1 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 66 2 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 66-67 35

DISCONNECT & RECONNECT

the CREATOR

Another quality found in ineffable places is the ability to change one’s state of mind in order to allow for such an opportunity.

This is often done through disconnecting a person from the everyday and then after disconnecting them, reconnecting their focus on to something else. Often this disconnection is done through procession and threshold. The reconnection process can be unique to the place but can involve shared rituals, an element of interest, appealing to the senses in novel ways or any other number of strategies. The most successful spaces are the ones that take care to remove anything that may break that reconnection once it has been formed.

The concept behind Novelty and Memory is one of a mental reflection on ones past experiences and whether or not one has experienced something making it a memory or a novel event. Disconnection and Reconnection rely on a mental perception but this is a direct relationship to the current environment.. One must not only mentally disconnect but also physically disconnect. Like "double mediation" that draws the attention of the viewer in and then redirects it away from itself, the disconnection separates the individual from their everyday occurrences and then redirects and reconnects them to the here and now, the moment they are experiencing.1 Figure 5

QUOTE: Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture, Vol. One, p. 74 1 Jones, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture Vol. One, p. 63

“In every instance of art we receive a persuasive invitation...to participate more closely.�

-Adrian Stokes

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Figure 14

Just as the maze has the elements of memory and novelty, they too create this separation of the everyday. Stepping into the maze, we are still tied to the outside. We know the few moves we have made once crossing the threshold.

The journey has begun but can easily be abandoned. Yet, as we move further into the maze we find ourselves more committed to the task. With each turn we become more disconnected from the outside world. The pathway out that we remember becomes more hazy and so we let it pass away. We focus our attention on the task of the maze. We have connected to the place and the experience.

trees creates a tranquil atmosphere and a quiet sound that could easily be missed if one is not paying attention. The water catches in the irregular dents in the stones that make up the path, bringing awareness to their shape.1 Using the senses to reconnect the individual to the experience. Other thresholds and rituals are used to further disconnect the person from their thoughts of their outside lives.

There are a few different types of gardens used in Japan throughout history. The Zen garden is the Roji or teahouse garden. It has many elements within it that are meant to prepare the visitor for the tea ceremony. All of these elements work together in order to remove the individual from the reality of daily life and to create an inward focus. “‘The roji is simply a path leading beyond this fleeting world.’ In other words, walking along this path enables one to cast aside the ordinary concepts of time and space associated with daily living, so that the tea guest is led artistically and psychologically into another world, and he is prepared for the experience of the tea ceremony.”1 The Zen garden disconnects the visitor from their everyday lives using different techniques. The stones are irregular so that one must keep focus on walking. They are laid out in shady areas to create a dimness and placed in a zigzag pattern for depth. This ambiguity of light and this manipulation of length creates a place for the imagination to surface and the concept of time to be lost. The path and foliage is sprinkled with water to give the senses an air of freshness and a connection to nature. The dripping water from the

1 Houser, Invitations to Tea Gardens, p. 75

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the HERO’S JOURNEY The Hero’s Journey is a template that illustrates a journey that an individual takes in which they go on an adventure where they are confronted with a crisis, and then return home changed and transformed. The hero is usually called to action and then through some alluring reason has to choose whether or not to accept this journey. The Hero then crosses a threshold into what he discovers is an unknown world. After facing trials and challenges, the Hero becomes finally faced with a crisis or revelation. This in turn changes the hero and causes a transformation in their character. The Hero then has to face the return back while adjusting to his transformation. They again cross a threshold back into the ordinary world, where the hero then faces atonement and has to adjust to a new way of life.

Similar to the Hero’s Journey, the Disconnect and Reconnect often found in Ineffable Architecture creates a journey for the visitor. The individual must except and be open to such an experience just as the Hero accepts the journey. The threshold is then crossed in which the visitor becomes disconnected from their everyday life and beings on a procession that changes their state of mind and reconnects them to a new state of being. At some point an evanescent moment is felt which leaves the visitor changed from the experience.

Just as the procession that lead to this moment was crucial in changing the visitors state of mind, so too is the procession that allows the visitor to adjust and meditate on their discovery. Another threshold is found which returns the visitor back to their daily life. They are forever changed by their experience and will adjust to their revelation in their own way.

Figure 15 (Left) Figure 16 (Right)

Figure 17

CHICAGO TEAHOUSE Hiding off one of Chicago’s busy, high end streets, nestled between two looming buildings, rests the site for this teahouse. Only a few hundred feet from the main road, one must wander down this smaller, quiet road to find the large concrete walls that offer just a glimpse of what is inside.

A small wedge is cut into the wall, just large enough for one to pass through and become surrounded by water on all sides with a narrow path leading to a similar wall. This abrupt change from the busy Chicago street begins the first part of the tea ceremony. Slowly the visitor leaves the outside world behind finding a new reality within the walls.

On passing through the second gate one removes their shoes and places them within a wall. The connection to the ground, now granted by the physical touch of their feet, keeps them aware of their surroundings, focusing the mind further. As one moves through the garden, they happen upon moments of pause with elements they must pass through and materials such as water, metal, and rock meet their feet and body creating an awareness to the texture, temperature, and imperfections. On approaching the teahouse the visitor has measured views of the elements that compose its structure and the reflection pool that surrounds it. A place is made for one to sit and wash their feet while looking out over the water; waiting for the tea master to retrieve them.

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Often, feeling a connection to a place can come from a shared ritual that connects you to others who have shared in the same experience. The coffee filters bring ritual and Zen together. After participating in the tea ceremony the visitor is given a coffee filter to place in the water when they exit the teahouse. When one places the filter in the water they watch the delicate paper slowly resist the water, be consumed by it, and then sink slowly away. Through this adversity, the coffee filter emerges structurally stronger and is collected and formed again by the tea master and used as a Mitate screen in the teahouse. Anyone sharing in the tea ceremony sits by the wall created by those before them.

Figure 18

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Figure 19

a DISCOVERY The act of a chance discovery leaves the mind open to any possibility. There are no preconceptions or expectations. A moment caught off guard, in which one has the opportunity to lose themselves in the experience.

The sound of the crashing waves, the smell of the salty air, sand shifting under your weight, your body correcting the shift and pushing you forward, the time that passes over head with the movement of the clouds are all ways in which your mind and body are consumed in the experience as you walk along the shore of the beach. As your mind relaxes and your thoughts wander you slowly become disconnected from the ordinary life cycle we live every day.

This procession along the beach is a soothing one, but hidden along the coast of one particular beach a chance opportunity is waiting. On arriving at a threshold of no entry, your thoughts are interrupted by a sculpture. A symbol of your journey stands erect. On closer inspection you see the apparent homage that other people have paid. Gifts of their findings along the journey are left stacked and teetering along the lengths of the wooden structure. You too feel this compulsion to participate in this ritual. As you place the shell you have carried in your pocket since its discovery in the water you feel a connection to those people who have been here before. You look at the artifacts they have left behind and wonder about their journey, images of them pass before your mind; bodies moving along the water, too far to make out their faces, some laughing with their loved ones, others alone and somber. As you journey back in the direction you came, two small black sticks catch your eye.

An entry marked quietly by their contrast to the white sand.

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Figure 20

THRESHOLD INTO SITE

CIRCULAR CREATION

CIRCULAR CREATION

On your approach you see a path and down the path an area marked by human touch. It invites you in at the sight of the objects meant to be sat on and relaxed in. As you take the small winding path up to the top of the sandy hill you notice the care in which someone has placed in creating the entry into the tiny seating area. Several vines have been grown and tended in order to create a straight boundary marking the areas borders. As you pass the final entry into this space you feel that you have entered a special place; one that someone loves and has taken the time to care for. While sitting on the handmade drift wood benches that feel as though they are part of the beach your eye rests upon them. They are small and spherical. Little touches on the white sand. Objects collected and transformed. An expression of the creator. You notice right next to your body marking the long branch that is the beacon for this sacred place. a circular boundary protects its base. You begin to remember the circular disk that was placed in the wooden sculpture and the connection becomes enlivening.

This wooden sculpture made from things found along the beach marks the end of the public path along the beach. It has become a ritual for those who find it to place something they have found along their journey. Much like a Japanese shrine, people feel a connection to each other through this shared ritual and cultural understanding.

CIRCULAR CREATION AROUND BEACON

Figure 21 (Left) MODERN SHRINE

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STORY CANVASING

the INDIVIDUAL

After identifying the factors found in these sacred places, senses, memory and novelty, and disconnect and reconnect, I wondered at what it is that gives these elements their strength. A place can have all of these factors and still not become an ineffable place. Then I realized what was missing. I created a term in which to represent the idea of how we as human beings project meaning on to things, be it places, ideas, objects, or experiences.

Story Canvasing is the canvas created by the artist on which the observer projects their own meaning.

Existential thought claims that life is devoid of meaning. And in that, the only meaning that exists is the meaning we create for ourselves. In our meaningless experience it is our own mind that contributes meaning.

The built environment is how we transfix meaning onto the world. The ways in which we sculpt experience and create an effect using space is how we create meaning for people who experience it.

This is why elements that effect the human experience and the care in which we show our thought and effort in design becomes essential in creating these existential moments that give meaning to life. Just as we create meaning in the world we too create architecture as the vessel to express such meaning.

Figure 22

Story Canvasing is the canvas created by the artist on which the observer projects their own meaning.

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When we encounter any form of artistic expression, be it a painting, architecture, music, or poem and the author’s meaning is unclear we are provided an opportunity to create our own narrative. Story Canvasing is when the creator has not given us a story but instead has created a canvas on which we project our own story.

Looking into other forms of art I noticed that painting was a great example of how an artist exaggerates, or overemphasizes detail or leaves information out in order to express an idea or share in their perspective of the world they see. An example of this would be Starry Night

by Vincent van Gogh. (bottom right)Van Gogh draws the stars in a completely inaccurate way, but he does so to emphasize the way they felt to him. He does this in order to evoke an emotion in us and to draw our attention to an idea. Something as abstract as the painting Tears for You by Cristina Borsatti (bottom left) we still find meaning in it and we project that meaning onto it. This meaning is something that is formed from our current state of mind and where we are at in that particular time in our lives. The painting may mean something completely different for us than what the artist originally intended.

Figure 23-26 TR-BL

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These same things are done through other art forms such as sculpture, dance, music, and photography. For example, in photography a person is able to capture a moment in time as they saw it. This is done successfully by choosing what part of the context they wish to leave out or frame in to push the emotion or idea that is being expressed. The framing of the moment becomes just as important as the subject of the photo. In the photo Please...don’t Cry by Enrico Elle, I see a man in great agony who has lived a long life of hardship and I began to imagine his life and everything that happened in it. (bottom left) This may not even be what is happening in this photo or maybe someone else sees a completely different story based on their personal experiences.

Even something like music or dance can unfold a story for us. As the low and high tones of a song have a conversation with each other and we are led on a struggle that happens in the song. Dance is a perfect example of the story that comes to life from music.

Figure 27-30 TR-BL

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“They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity...they carried it on their backs and shoulders- and for all the ambiguities of Vietnam, all the mysteries and unknowns, there was at least the single abiding certainty that they would never be at a loss for things to carry.

― Tim O’Brien

The Things They Carried

Figure 31

The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien is a novel with the purpose of expressing an idea by exaggerating the story or detail in order to have someone feel what the they felt. We know that in something like story telling, be it through a novel, poem, or even movie, the author does not always say what they mean but expects us to discover that meaning on our own. In The Things They Carried, the story begins by taking us on a journey with some soldiers and the author begins to list all of the items that they are carrying on their person. As the author does this he gives the exact weight of the objects, and slowly as he keeps listing these items throughout the story you begin to feel the weight they are carrying. At some point, without him having to say it, you begin to feel all the intangible items that they are carrying, the fear, the heat, the stress, the longing for home, these put more weight on the soldiers than the tangible items themselves. This is a great example of the way in which we place meaning onto a situation.

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Figure 32

a MUSIC BOX I loved music boxes as a child. I had many of them growing up and they always brought me a great comfort. A music box is an object that often can have a sacredness to it.

They can have some of the same characteristics I have discussed in ineffable places.. The box engages our senses, through music, materiality, detail, and other means. They are a physical object that the body interacts with, holding, winding, and opening. There is a familiarity to music boxes as nostalgic objects but also a sense of mystery to what will be found inside and what song might play. The threshold that we cross when we decide to interact with the music box and open its lid takes us on a journey, a procession that connects us to the moment as we listen to the music play. It disconnects us from our daily routine for a moment and invites us in, connecting us to what we find there. A music box can also carry with it the opportunity for Story Canvasing. We imagine who it belongs to or who owned it, where it has been and where the cracks on its surface came from. The sense of sacred of the objects that are housed there. The importance and story behind those objects to the person who once treasured them. One projects meaning or a story onto it themselves.

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Figure 33

The idea of the music box intrigued me. To create an object that is about using all of your senses in order to interact with it. To create a novel experience in the interaction of a music box. A music box that seems familiar enough to invite the viewer in but novel enough to pique their interest.

The act of disconnecting and reconnecting is not always a physical separation can be a mental one.

I created a music box but in a more novel way. It doesn’t look like a music box when one sees it. I added enough familiarity in the construction of it, enough to hint that the box was to be interacted with. I hid the knob, that cranks the music box, so that the person had to search for it. Someone had to want to invest their time into the object. It was not given to them.

So you touch it. You wind it. You feel the materiality and texture of the wood. It is warm compared to the smooth metal knob that winds the gears.

There is also story canvasing. Depending on how you come by it. You wonder at who it belongs to . You project meaning onto it. It is also a way of disconnecting and reconnecting.

Though it is not a physical separation, it can be a mental one. The act of lighting the incense and watching it burn becomes a ritual. A focus. A box that holds things that are special. The special object. The sacred box.

The incense must be hidden to suspend the imagination for a while longer. The purpose of the box must be ambiguous.

The ambiguity leads to the personal projection. The imagination. The individual using it must give it a purpose.

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Figure 34

The exterior slit in the front of the box hints at what can be found inside. The music plays as the lid is slid open, marking the first moment of threshold. The music disconnects the observer and redirect their attention to the moment that is unfolding.

There is a drawer that keeps someone's special, sacred object. The handle of the drawer is made of sea glass from Japan. The texture is both smooth and rough. The time it took to wear the glass down, as each pulse of the ocean rubbed it against the sand, is felt through this texture.

Opening the drawer is another threshold you must pass through. A procession has been made to reach the object.

I used incense to incorporate a sense of smell, time, and ritual. Incense was at one point, in some cultures, used to tell time. So by creating the slit in the front surface, one could light the incense and then close the box and watch it slowly burn down. A red tip traveling the length of the dark slit. It could become a ritual to sit and, as time passes, watch the flame and the smoke, placing them in a mindfulness to the here and now. When the incense burns down, the ash discolors the wood as the ash gets worn in over time.

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PRECEDENT STUDIES To begin the search for the ineffable. I looked for places that might carry such an effect to their visitors. Through several interviews, personal experience, and research I began to analyze different buildings and places. I looked at these places and began to compare and contrast their elements, functions, characteristics, and all other aspects. Patterns began to appear as similarities began to surface.

As I looked at these characteristics I tried to identify the essence of what I was finding. If a sense of scale was present, such as used in the towering entrance of the Rituals 1 Crematorium, understanding scale was not enough. I had to form the understanding of what scale meant. How we felt scale, perceived it, what was it about scale that affected us and why. And most importantly after understanding these ideas, how to create scale and if scale could just be recreated, would it carry the same effect..

which the place effected and used ones senses in order to create a unique experience.

Memory and Novelty giving into ones familiarity while still allowing for discovery of the unknown, was present. The use of different factors to disconnect the individual from the everyday experience and reconnect them something else.

These factors worked in many ways but were present in one way or another. The way in which these characteristics exerted themselves in the experience of the space as well as interacted with each other created that necessary journey that could possibly lead to a evanescent moment in time uniquely tuned to the person who found themselves engaged.

With each precedent study I looked at I found common factors that reappeared in each case. A sense of place was evident. The quality and character that was present in each architectural work was the reason for people being called into conversation with each building. Each example seemed unique in itself, that place was the only one of its kind. It stood on its own and offered its visitor a unique chance of discovering its essence. The ways in which each one I looked at managed to create such a sense of individuality became apparent.

I found three categories most effective in creating this sense of place found in ineffable architecture. The way in

Figure 35-40 TL-BR 1 Pallister, Sacred Spaces Contemporary Religious Architecture, p. 114 65

Figure 37

ROTHKO CHAPEL The need to wait on the ability to see something can be a powerful way to not only create a sense of time but to also allow for the process of disconnecting someone from their everyday and reconnect them to a different state of mind. The darkness causes you to rely on your other senses.

Your sense of time is challenged because of constantly noticing something new as your eyes adjust. The immediate atmosphere is quiet and tranquil. The geometric shape does not push you but allows you to move in any direction.

This gives the impression of being invited to sit anywhere.

At first the room is dark except for the ambient light coming in from a puncture in the ceiling. A confusion causes you to focus on the paintings on the wall because nothing there is competing with them. At first the paintings all look the same, black canvases in a dark room. But as your mind relaxes and your eyes begin to slowly adjust, you see it slowly; a faint purple or grey. Over time the canvases slowly reveal their true colors. The procession is not very dominant in the Rothko Chapel, the sleep sculpture sitting in dark still water begins to set the mood for the space within. The entrance, dark like the water, engulfs the visitor. The pool, calm and black, seems to consume even the reflections that touch the surface. The strength of the dark water and the weakness of the reflections create a juxtaposition as essences are given meaning. The anthropomorphization leads to a powerful emotional impact on seeing this struggle.

Figure 41 Figure 42 67

Figure 35

SAYAMA LAKESIDE CEMETERY PARK “For us this form is not a strong architectural statement.

It is simply a consequence of the site.� 1 The place carries with it a sense of pace, an authenticity true to its particular circumstances. In order to not distract, the pallet was kept simple. This idea of not having elements that distract the visitor from the experience that is unfolding around them is seen in many of these precedent studies. Unfinished wood to relate to the trees, stone pavers to relate to the gravel are used to blend the architecture with the context that surrounds it. Views of nature and water create a relaxing atmosphere. Different views depending on where the person is sitting and where they are standing create a sense of care for the person who is undergoing this experience at that particular moment. The Community Hall is located at the entrance to the cemetery marking the transition from the secular to the spiritual. This use of threshold helps to direct and change the person's state of mind. The Community Hall is a place for relaxation while the Chapel is for reflection. You must relax the mind before you can reflect. Disconnection before you can reconnect to the purpose you have come for. The procession from the Hall to the Chapel is amid the graves. This contributes to the frame of mind the person is under while there. In the Chapel subtle elements are used to direct the visitors view and experience.. Single newly planted trees bring the nature towards the building while the angled stones on the floor follow a vanishing point out into the woods; directing the visitors gaze. Envisioned as an extension of the woods, these details do not disrupt this 2 appearance of visually fusing the indoor with the out.

1 Pollock, A Seperate Peace, p. 87 2 Pollock, A Seperate Peace, p. 83-87

Figure 43 Figure 44 69

Figure 40

RITUALS CREMATORIUM The crematorium complex is largely focused on taking the visitor on a specific journey. Using elements of threshold and procession to alter the state of mind. A focus on what the individual needs at that particular moment is key. There is always a single focal and nothing to distract or take away from the experience. Materiality and nature play a large role in setting the stage for this occasion. The first threshold mourners cross over is a strong transitional marker. This also begins the procession. Slowly changing the state of mind to focus the visitor on what they came here to think about. The material palette uses local stone and keeps a minimal palette for the buildings and landscape. The access to the furnace and preparation rooms is hidden from the visitor so as not to disrupt the procession. The only view of this area is done with care to not draw attention to it. The gathering space symbolizes the process taking place below, allowing the family to participate and reflect in a peaceful way. This is a threshold before another part of the procession is introduced. As the visitor finally precedes to the building a strong emphasis on the procession is detailed with the structure itself. Simple moves to direct the visitor and demonstrate the importance of the threshold. A moment of tension before entering the sacred space. The building rises out of the hillside as though it was cut directly from the stone. The procession is so important because the mourners are going on a similar journey as their deceased loved ones but only in a different way. Each step they take is a connection to that journey. Views of the deceased’s body is the focus of the ceremony. Scale plays a vital role. The free space of the high ceilings allows the gaze to travel upwards. The chorus of people is heard but not seen. Highlighting the place where the visitor sits are low hanging light fixtures; an intimate space in a large1 volume.

1 Pallister, Sacred Spaces, p. 114-119

Figure 45

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Figure 38

WINDHOVER CONTEMPLATIVE CENTER “Neither a house of worship nor a traditional art gallery... (the site) offers a space for structured meditation or just quiet observation of art and nature.�1 A threshold begins the procession to the front door, which is set far back so that there is a journey before entering the building. This aids the mind in transitioning from the stresses of the everyday to a relaxed state. The building unfolds as new spaces are discovered. Contemplative spaces are scattered throughout the site creating many unique places to be found by the visitor. Elements used throughout the building act as elegant details with purpose. Narrow skylights run the length of the paintings. A care is given to where each one is placed. The rammed earth used in the project is meant to remind the visitor of ruins. This is a connection to memory as a familiar characteristic; a historical connection.

Layers allow for the feeling of being disconnected from other spaces while still being vaguely connected to others as they move around you. The structure has a raised floor that makes the building seem as though it is floating above the ground. The effect is as if the building is floating and the tension in that separation from the ground gives the building a sense of sacredness. The palette, though simple, is important in that the use of the rammed earth and glass create a tension in weight and lightness. The same effect is 2 used through shadow and light

1 Glen, Mind Over Matter, p. 65 2 Glen, Mind Over Matter, p. 65-69

Figure 46 Figure 47 73

EXPERIENCING JAPAN The hard part about studying ineffable architecture is that it is a completely experiential kind of research and discovery.

Though I was able to research places that may carry such characteristics, I had no way of determining if they really do in fact have the kind of effect I was looking for.

In going to Japan I was lucky enough to encounter some of the experiences that I had been trying to describe. Visiting some of these places I was able to test some of my theories and find that many of the characteristics I had researched did in fact reveal themselves to me.

Many of the things I experienced in Japan amazed me. The way that my senses were engaged, the novel experiences were counterbalanced with enough familiarity to invite me in. The disconnection and reconnection was very evident, especially in the architecture and gardens. Because of the culture and language barrier, I relied on Story Canvasing more than I would in a normal situation back home. I could not have found a better place to test the ideas behind ineffable architecture.

Figure 48

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Figure 49-59 TL-BR

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TESHIMA ART MUSEUM

Figure 60

The experience of the museum. “The sand so distorting. Time moves slowly. Connection to others through experience but separation through sound.

Strange sounds connect to the movement of the water.

Strings hang. Aware of them only in the moment. Searching for them but in an instant they are lost. Nearly invisible until the light reveals their color again. See the wind through their movement. Hearing people but not their words. Echoes.

No shoes. The sacred water. Connection to the ground.

The concrete pulls the warmth from my feet. You feel that you can approach the water more closely because of the bare feet.. So quiet the way the water moves. The sound of electricity on the wind. Almost like train wheels screeching to a stop in the far distance but metallic. The birds scream.

Light hits the string again. Cause and effect. The meaning we create from a natural act or object- phenomenologystory canvasing. Many people stay here. Closing your eyes, they all feel distant and have a layer of unrealness. They become part of the experience with their low rumble. The people change the space. A new experience, a new space.�

The above sequence is the rambling thoughts as I sat and walked around the Teshima Art Museum. This place was like nothing I had ever experienced before. The procession before entering the volume acted as a disconnect from the rest of the place. The way my senses were engaged, the things I saw, felt, heard, reconnected me to nothing but the experience that was going on around me. The temperature of the concrete in shadow and light, the reverberation of the sound in the space, the novel way in which the water moved on the ground were just some of the sensations that overwhelmed my being.

a LIGHT SHOW The experience of the light show.

A chance encounter and the perfect conditions created one of the most powerful artistic experiences of space I had ever witnessed.

The music, mostly the beat of the drums, could be heard from the street. The night had consumed the long path that lead to the temple but lights shown low over the steps and hinted at where to step. The lights caught the stalks of the large bamboo that lined the sides of the walk way. On reaching the entrance, I removed my shoes and stepped into one of the buildings that made up the complex. As I walked through several rooms, following the path, the music grew louder. Finally I stepped out onto a large deck that faced the facade of the temple. There the music moved in unison with the lights that were projected onto the temple's surface. Japanese characters and images began to move along the wall, using its architectural details as part of the elements in the story. The rock garden that acted as a barrier between myself and the temple was also a stage for the swirling lights. The music mesmerized me. It began to rain very lightly, just enough for the lights to catch the water right in front of my face. Then as the music slowed and became even more hypnotic a swirl of the lights began to make me feel as though I was being pulled out into the garden. Then it all stopped and the lights, still shinning, ceased their movement and there I was suspended out over the garden, as though I was floating through the universe.

This experience really embodied the idea behind story canvasing. All of my senses were activated in novel ways, the event was like nothing I had ever experienced. The procession, my senses, the novelty, all led to an ineffable experience.

Figure 61

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Ryoan-ji

Figure 62

The experience of the garden.

The stones are wet as I walk up to the buildings. Someone has watered them down to clear away the dust. My shoes are removed. The thickness in the smell of the incense. I watch it as it drifts into the air. Then I step back out into the open fresh air of the garden. The layers of light and shadow.

The depth of the shadows. The warmth of the sun on my face but the shadow cast on my back is cold. The garden is filled with soft and hard stones. The expression of time in the shape of the rocks. Seeing the physical result of time makes me aware of my own momentary existence. I over hear a man say “every time I am here, the wall is a different color.� The compacted earth reacts to weather and time.

This creates a different experience every time someone visits. The silence and the sounds. Squeaking boards. The smoothness of the worn boards on the feet, almost like glass. So smooth are the boards that I have to be mindful of how I shuffle my feet to not slip. Time passing. So many people before me have worn these boards down. There is a sense of separation. People talk in the previous room but are silent in the garden space. There is a removal of certain behaviors. A sense of sacred. We are connected through it but separate. The wall is slightly angled to give more depth and set a vanishing point. The amount of care that has been put into the design of this space is so comforting. The care.

Each large rock, except one, is visible from every point. One is always hidden. To me it is as if one cannot always know everything, or maybe one must travel in order to find... So many things I read into. Story Canvasing. This place created an awareness. The elements relaxed but invigorated my mind. A place of peace and mindfulness.

Minamidera Art House The experience of darkness and time.

The architecture is quiet. The elements are simple. The darkness of the wood hints at the experience to come. I hug the wall as I make my way along all sides of the building before reaching the entrance. There I wait before being led in. I am told to touch the wall and turn where it turns until it ends and there I shall sit on a bench. After the first turn into the building it becomes instantly dark. I am confused because I know the light of the morning is before me. As I make another turn I am met with an even darker space. No light. I move my other hand that is not touching the wall, in front of my face. I see nothing. I finally reach the end of the wall and sit. The dark is strange it actually feels like a substance that you are embedded in. I sit there forever.

In silence. In the blanket of black. My eyes strain to see.

Eventually I close them to relax myself. I open them again and feel better about the blackness. My sense of time is elevated and altered. After a what felt like a long time I notice something. It looks like a hint of light but then when I blink it is gone and I know it is my brain playing tricks on me. Then after another five minutes I am sure that the hint of light I see is there. The hint of light becomes more apparent and finally it is seen. The smallest amount of light.

It is there and I wonder how I did not see it this whole time.

I was confused how I could not have seen this light in such a dark room. As my eyes adjusted to the light in the room I could see the back wall. We were allowed to approach it when we were ready. It was as if a large square were there like the projection of a screen. We were told to touch the wall. My hand pushed through the wall. Confusion. An open massive space was there. No wall.

Figure 63

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a PLACE FOR PEACE, REST, & MINDFULNESS The world is a stressful place and because of that stress and the burden of all the responsibilities we put on ourselves we often forget to relax and free our minds of those burdens.

Even though we may want to find peace in our daily lives it is often a question of how. There are few places that can give us the right setting to ease our stress.

Students feel drastic amounts of stress on a daily basis. I have often felt that I lack a place of retreat. Many people find peace or comfort in their place of religious practice. If someone has no affiliation with a particular religion then it becomes even harder for them to find their place of sanctuary.

I decided to take this existing problem, that I have direct experience with, and use my research on ineffable architecture to apply a design solution for this issue.

In my travels I have come across places, some of which I have mentioned earlier, that have had a rejuvenating effect on my mind and body. To go beyond the matter of reducing stress and finding peace, I also created opportunities for thought and maybe, if the person is willing, a chance to have a profound and meaningful encounter with life. I created a place for peace, rest, and mindfulness.

Figure 64

Figure 65

the SITE Located on the North-eastern corner of the University of South Florida, is a beautiful wooded area. In choosing a location for this project I took into consideration the proximity to other places of similar caliber. The idea was to create a place to rest, peace, and mindfulness around not only a populated area of campus, but also around places that students might look for these qualities. The site is just north of all the campus religious facilities and churches.

This alignment was critical in my selection because of the connection that most people feel to not only beliefs, be they religious or not, but spirituality, sacredness, and ritual. These things for some are religious, for some they are personal, for some they do not matter. To place these in proximity to one another speaks about the importance of all, the acceptance of all, and they openness that we should have to life and experiences.

The site is also just north of the university's nature trail, which many students use to jog or walk, which is a great way to alleviate the stress on the mind and body. That connection allows someone to move along this path and continue onto the path of the site in a seamless manner.

This was crucial because of the importance placed on procession and not interrupting the experience as much as possible.

The northeast corner of campus is also a very active one because of student housing, athletics, student center, the library and a number of other highly populated areas.

I wanted the site to be in close proximity to this student activity, but also removed enough that someone would have to make a conscious decision to visit it. The need for the visitor to be open to the experience is just as important as the characteristics that make these places.

Figure 66 85

SITE ANALYSIS Analyzing the site was a very rich and beautiful process. The existing context helped to inform and begin the layout of different elements and to make connections between these elements. The visitor's different viewpoints was carefully thought out. To create moments where one could catch a glimpse of what is to come but then have to continue moving through other areas before reaching the moment.

There were lovely natural features that added to the richness of the site and acted as a starting point. There are several ponds on the site and a small creek leads from one of them further back into the marshy areas of the site.

Through investigations in person and on paper I began to layer this information. To visualize all of these factors I was beginning to bring together, I decided to make a construct using a hybrid of model like elements and graphic techniques in watercolor and ink. When choosing a base to begin I decided to use an old book to talk about the ideas of Story Canvasing. I wanted the book, a sacred object used in storytelling, to act as the context for which I was building upon. I let the text and other features of the book pull through to the surface to emphasize this idea. When I was selecting a book for the project I came across an old beautiful book and before I made it part of this project I decided to read some of it. It felt only appropriate because of the cultural respect we give to our texts. The discovery was amazing. As I flipped through this collection of short stories I began pulling passages out that spoke of the same experiences that I was trying to create with this project.

Human thoughts, philosophical discussions, raw emotions, phenomenology, existential dilemmas. I began to layer this information as well.

Figure 67

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Figure 68

Figure 69

the PATH The project is a series of experiential moments that are meant to draw the visitor in and provide the opportunity for that individual to take away meaning, find relaxation, engage in mindfulness, or just find peace.

The site connects to many areas of campus but brings all of the paths together and one starting point. The main structure on the site is The Retreat. This building is made up of a series of spaces that takes the visitor on a particular procession through the program. There are many places to sit and relax, walk, look at art, observe nature, drink local tea, meditate, and find a chance discovery.

From this main building the visitor has the option to continue on a path that leads to the sanctuary. The path moves through the woods, which have yearly art instillations that compliment the landscape. Also along the path, there are several designed nodes that offer moments of pause and reflection. Each moment allows the visitor to continue on or choose to investigate further.

After a while the individual reaches the Sanctuary. The Sanctuary is a place of beauty. It has the perfect geometry of a dome from the outside with light wooden skin that rests above a reflection pool. Once the visitor enters, they find a juxtaposition of materiality, mass, and form. Two tectonic shells rest enfolded upon each other but pulled apart enough to create tension.

The visitor completes the journey and leaves the same way they entered. Just like the hero's journey, changed from their experience with a new perspective to guide them in their life.

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Figure 70

DISCONNECT A wall cuts down into the pond forming a path and continues out into the distant woods. Sinking down with the path the individual walks out to the center of the pond, the path lowers the person to eye level as they pass along the water.

Once at eye level the wall lowers enough so the view is no longer blocked to the west. An emphasis on the opportune moment in which a sculpture out in the water is revealed.

This novel way of moving across a pond, interacting with the water and playing with views all come together as a physical and mental disconnect from the everyday. The thought and care that has been placed in the procession hints at the importance of the site. The wall now rising in elevation from the viewer disappears into the forest. The ambiguity of what it leads to allows the visitor to imagine. No longer a passive observer, the individual is now engaged and invested in the experience.

The procession throughout the project has other thresholds that act to disconnect the person more and more from the everyday. To take them further into the experience. Keeping their mind away from the things they left behind.

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Figure 71

Figure 72

the RETREAT A quiet piece of architecture that dissolves into the landscape. The heavy limestone wall leads the visitor into the building is the same wall that carried them through the pond. The materiality of the wall is important. Its stone reminds one of permanence, history, a familiarity that plays to the memory. This is juxtaposed against the light wood that makes up some of the outer walls. Water moves along the wall separating the person from the stone.

As the visitor enters the space they step up on stones into what appears to be a small room. They find the space to be open to the sky elevating their gaze. The water falls from this elevation down to the narrow stream of water that they have walked along. The sound of water acts to create a peaceful noise as they cross this threshold. Here the shoes are removed and put away. For the rest of the experience, the individual will move about the site feeling texture, temperature, materials, the ground, water all with their feet. This is a novel sensation for most people. As one’s feet touch the floor this sensation will help to keep their mind focused on the moment, to remind them to be in the experience.

Visual cues direct the visitor to move to the open air room to the east. They move along a slatted wall and overhead plane. Shadows cut long lines across the room. This space, though interior, seems more like the outside woods. There are several trees where natural landscaping creates a nooklike place to sit, relax and enjoy the space. Continuing on, one finds a compressed hallway with natural light pouring in from high above. The ceiling hangs in tension, pulled away from the stone wall that acts as one of the edges. Gravel

lines the floor as the individual makes their way down the hall. This forces them to walk slower, embracing and being aware of their movement and the time it takes to travel the length of the hallway. The sound of the gravel under their feet reverberates off the walls, echoing in the narrow space.

The use of gravel to slow the visitor and to create sound happens before any important space. The sound of crunching gravel at first seems loud but the mind eventually excepts it and it is ignored, until the moment that one steps off the gravel. The second that the crunching stops the silence becomes very powerful. Almost as if it is a sound of its own.

At the end of the hall, there is a step up into the first gallery.

One wall is slatted so that one can catch a glimpse of the next space. After moving through this space, the person steps down into an enclosed moss garden with an open roof. This space leads back to the same compressed hall that acts to orient the visitor. Suspended further down the hall is a floating box that pushes through the stone wall. This space, once stepped into, is a quiet room that looks out into nature. Framed by this box in the opposite direction is the next gallery. There is always an opportunity for someone to glimpse what is next. The anticipation and the imagination is active in this suspension of time. As the individual steps out of the box and into the gallery, a small glass panel reveals a reflection pool on the other side of the space.

After walking though this gallery the visitor has reached the north side of the retreat. A reflection pond and small garden are located there.

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Figure 73

Figure 74

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Figure 75

Stepping back into the building, one enters the next gallery.

One of the walls in the gallery is lifted off the ground enough to see what appears to be rocks. They step through a compressed space with the slats that show the previous moss garden providing the only natural light. Around the corner the floor drops away and the individual can step down, and when sitting, look out over an open air rock garden. This space can only be viewed from a sitting position.

Only being able to view the space but not enter adds to the sacredness of the space. The rocks of different sizes, like the Zen gardens of Japan, are a physical representation of time. Slowly time wore away the rocks to the sizes they are now.

From here the visitor moves into the last gallery before again being compressed down a gravel filled hallway. This space has a tiny slit cut through the ceiling that allows direct light to shine on the stone wall. This creates shadows that highlight the texture of the wall. Seeing the texture.

Touching the texture. The dark hall with the bright light on the wall acts as a dramatic space before stepping back outside.

Figure 76

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Figure 77

Figure 78

The galleries with their art, the reflection pool, the rock garden, and other spaces allow for the opportunity for someone to project their own meaning and interpretation of them. Maybe someone sees the rocks as time. Someone else may see it as a strong will against outside forces, or any other idea that relates to them. For some people it may just be an enjoyable place to relax and look out over the garden. The individual brings with them their own personal experiences, their thoughts and their current state of mind.

Each space is created to be a threshold for the next. As a series of unique experiences, each space is designed to have different light qualities, textures, materials, scales, views, and purposes. This large variety not only keeps the mind engaged but offers a multitude of experiences that may relate to different people in different ways. One space for someone could be moving and powerful, while another person passes through the same room without much of an impact.

To the far left is an image of the compressed hall that sets the tone for the sequence of spaces at The Retreat. The ambient light shining from above softly illuminates the room. The viewer can see straight ahead where a slatted wall hints at the moss garden (second from left) that will eventually be discovered.

The moss garden is designed to allow the individual to be conscious of the different stones, that vary in size and shape, while walking through the garden. Several small paths veer off to allow for sitting and enjoying the space from different angles. The exposed sky above will create a different experience in that space depending on the time of day or season. The hall, to the right, changes the quality of light. Dramatic light shines in depending on the time of day.

Figure 79

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Figure 80

Figure 81

A sculpture garden acts as the main circulation space for The Retreat. After the experience of the main procession through the galleries the final space leads here. A long rhythm of deep overhead beams carries the space down the same limestone wall that lead the visitor into the building.

This wall divides the project in two, the portion with the procession of the galleries and similar spaces and the courtyard. Large openings in the wall allow the sculpture garden to permeate the courtyard. The courtyard rests at a slightly lower elevation allowing the water features in the sculpture garden to cascade down, creating the same sound of running water that was used at the entrance of the building. Part of the journey has been completed.

The courtyard is lined with rows of Yaupon Holly Trees. This tree is indigenous to the South-East portion of the United States. The Yaupon Holly is the only plant indigenous to North American that has caffeine. Native Americans used the Yaupon leaves to make tea and some American’s still use it as their choice of tea. On the far end of the courtyard is the Tea Room, where an individual makes the Yaupon tea and serves it to the visitor. You must pass through the tea room, a tall but narrow space, in order to step up into a large aperture punctured through the stone wall. Here the visitor sits and has there tea and can look out into the woods. The process of walking through the same trees that are used to make the tea is a beautiful experience. The tea being locally grown in the courtyard talks about the process of making and the project fitting with the existing site. On initially visiting the site I discovered kumquat trees. This too is seasonally added to the tea in order to create a variety of tea experiences.

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Figure 82

The purpose of the tea is to act as a small ritual that can be adopted by the people who visit here. Having a social behavior to share in and a process to observe can have a comforting quality to many people. The tea also takes time to prepare, to drink. It forces the person to take their time in enjoying the moments they get to look out at nature. The Yaupon tea has a distinct flavor and smell. With the sound of water and birds, the space can be very invigorating or relaxing depending on the person experiencing it.

After the individual has had their tea they can choose to continue on the path that meanders around the site. For most people they make their way back to the sculpture garden and continue on the path. For some who have become very attuned with the site and observant in everything they can experience there, a small path at the back corner of the courtyard leads to small opening in the back wall. Here a small path leads down in the same direction of the main one. A chance discovery awaits them.

Figure 83

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Figure 84

Figure 85

PROCESSION After a little while the path begins to descend for those taking the hidden track. The path lowers them underground where they find a small room with a shallow pool of water above. (pictured far left) This installation is to allow the opportunity of a new perspective on the part of the observer. To witness the perspective of the ground. To watch passing people move in a haze. If a bird or leaf lands in the water the clarity of these objects is increased and different view point of seeing these things occur can be moving. The individuals who took the main path only see a reflection pool as they pass. Maybe after visiting the site a few times they happen to come at night. The reflection pool is now lit from the room below and for the first time the visitor realizes that the space has been there, undiscovered. After the reflection pool, the visitor comes across a natural small creek on the site. Stepping over several stones to get across, several stone walls compress the visitor for a brief moment.

They continue to narrow before opening up again. There the individual has the choice to enter the Forest Pavilion or continue on the path. If they choose to sit out on the pavilion there is a small garden with the creek acting as it’s backdrop. The pavilion is angled away from the path so that anyone else walking along it would not disturb the view of the person sitting in the pavilion. From here the visitor continues along the path where several art instillations are visible. They then come upon the Sanctuary. Before returning back to The Retreat the visitor’s path crosses out across a pond where the Water Pavilion sits emerging from the pond. Again the stone walls compress the participant before releasing them again.

Figure 86

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Figure 87

The visitor must investigate and turn in order to see the entrance to the pavilion. The pavilion is again angled to not disturb the person looking out over the pond. Several stones lead out into the water where eventually they reach a partially submerged bench where someone can sit and let their feet and legs rest in the cool water and escape the Florida warmth.

Much like the hero’s journey, the procession is met with many opportunities that could change the visitors perspective. The path changes in materiality from walking on the earth, wood, stone, and water. The path rises up when in the north corner of the site where the property gets marshy when it rains. The gravel is used always before an important spot, where there is an opportunity to take the experience further. Each sensation acting to further remove the person from the day to day and reconnect them to the present moment. Like the labyrinth, some elements are familiar and the knowledge that the path leads to a destination is comforting but the chance encounter on the way is exciting.

Figure 88 Figure 89 111

Figure 90

One must make an optic, one must see nature as no one has seen it before.

-Paul Cezanne

Art is the expression of someone’s ideas, feelings, the things they perceive and their energy to express that knowledge with the world. Art is a story that someone is trying to tell and often that story must be dramatized in order to express that idea. The essence behind Story Canvasing is art. Story Canvasing is easily understood through art because art installations serve no other purpose than this expression.

It is its purpose in the truest form. Because different forms of art are so easily relatable to the human condition, art is used to evoke feelings from the visitor. To keep with current trends in culture and society, artist change their work on the site and in the galleries every year or two. The art must keep with the general presence of the site to help in facilitating the ineffable. The change in the installations also allows the visitor to have a different experience when visiting at different times.

QUOTE: Irwin, Being and Circumstance, p. 9

Figure 91 Figure 92 113

the SANCTUARY Walking along the path, a form that blends with the landscape, rising to the height of the trees, can be seen.

Upon the approach as the individual steps off the fine gravel path the sound of silence is powerful. The birds, the wind, even your breath all seem louder against the new found calm. The first full sight of the structure, once through the trees, shows no entrance just a perfect dome of wooden slats that grow more dense as they rise. The path continues on around the dome. The structure appears to sink down into the water that surrounds it. Removing the individual from being able to reach the structure. Forced to move along it looking for a way inside, they proceed. Further around a quiet puncture is discovered where the slats have been pulled back to a human scale. There, several stones lead inside. The stone directly in line with the skin is settled under the water. The visitor must step there to mark the entrance into the space with a tactile realization through the experience of the water on the foot. The individual reaches out to touch the wooden structure, the first opportunity to come into contact with it through touch. The smooth wood meets the hand as the water and stone meet the foot. A novel experience.

Once inside, the visitor is met with another tectonic structure; one that is not only juxtaposed with the light skin in mass, but plays with the symmetry of the dome and transforms it into its own folded form. Two halves of a dome reach out to each other, one folding around the other, but held in tension as neither touch.

Figure 93

Figure 94

The visitor begins the procession around the concrete mass fixed between its cool surface and the warm wooden slats.

The viewer can look out through the slats at eye level and see slivers of the nature that surrounds the dome. The slats become more dense as they move out blocking out light and the sky. Depending on the time of day, beautiful shadows are cast against the concrete surface of the interior dome. As the individual makes their way around the dome running water is heard. The visitor finally reaches the first place where the two halves are slightly pulled away from each other, there the elevated floor inside has water cascading down to the water below. The viewer receives a hint of the interior space. Continuing around the dome, they finally reach the entrance. The two halves now are pulled away enough for a person to pass through. Stones just like the entrance lead the way. The visitor passes, compressed between the two massive shells where they slide against each other. The person stops as they step into the large open space. The scale of the dome is large enough to feel massive but small enough to feel relatable; there is still a human scale to it. Made for man. Inside, too, there is a procession. The individual must wait to stand underneath the oculus. They move along the edge of the dome, seeing the space from new angles. They reach the same slit of space they saw on their journey in. Orientation. From there, they move to the oculus and can once again see the sky.

Looking down, the same sky is reflected below them in the water that fills the whole space save the stones to walk on.

The tallest wall of the two halves faces to the west, ready to catch the orange light from the setting sun creating a crescent around its rim.

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Figure 95

Figure 96

At night the space becomes a different world. Faint lights rest beneath the water under the floor. They seem very faint at first but as the eyes adjust to darkness of night, slowly over time they glow, faintly illuminating the interior of the dome. As one stands under the oculus they are thrown into a volume floating out into the universe. The stars above them. The stars glowing below them. The dark edges of the dome too dim and distant to exist. They are in the night and are part of the night. They are wherever they imagine to be.

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Figure 97

LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1

The Islands, Nashima, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 2

Kartal, Yusuf. Untitled. 2013. B&W SOULVISION. Flickr. Web. 3 Apr. 2016.

Figure 3

Anatomie of Beauty. Collage. 2008. Crafty Dogma. Fl. Web. 3 Apr. 2016.

Figure 4

ARCHITECTURE AND HUMAN PSYCHOLOGY. 2014. Archi Blog. By Zeenath Shakir. Web. 03 Apr. 2016.

Figure 5

Kidwell, Brandon. "Double Exposures." RSS. Squarespace, n.d. Web. 03 Apr. 2016.

Figure 6

Brain Box Sight, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 7

Brain Box Touch, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 8

Brain Box Sound, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 9

Brain Box Smell, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 10

Brain Box Orientation, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 11

Brain Box Time, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 12

Snugsomeone. Labyrinth. 2009. Poland. Deviant Art. Web. 10 Dec. 2015.

Figure 13

Mividayyo. Untitled. 2011. Tumblr. Tumblr. Web. 10 Dec. 2015.

Figure 14

Zen Garden, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 15

The Path, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 16

Hero's Journey, University of South Florida. Personal Diagram by author. 2015.

Figure 17

TeaHouse, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 18

Mitate, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 19

"Lido Beach." 40.5889926 N and -73.62540719999998 E. Google Earth. Nov. 2015

Figure 20

Section of Lido Beach, University of South Florida. Personal Image by author. 2016.

Figure 21

Details of Discovery, Lido Beach. Personal Photographs by author. 2016.

Figure 22

Jorge, Paulo. "Happiness Door." 500px. N.p., n.d. Web. 08 Mar. 2016.

Figure 23

Benetel, Alex. Her Evening Escape. 2013. Flickr. Flickr. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 24

Nicolai Fechin. A Lady in Purple, 1908 . Oil on canvas, Tumblr. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 25

Borsatti, Cristina. Tears for You. 2012. Como, Lombardia, Italy. Saatchi Art. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 26

Van Gogh, Vincent. Starry Night Over the Rhone. 1888. Wikipedia. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 27

Houston, James. Untitled. 2012. Move, Vision Photographic, Inc. Photographer Director. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 28

Shiota, Chiharu. In Silence. 2008. Centre Pasquart, Biel, Bienne, Art Basil.Designboom. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 29

Elle, Enrico. Please...don't Cry. 2012. Milan, Italy. 500px. Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 30

Hawk, Thomas. Holocaust Memorial of Miami Beach. 2014. Holocaust Remembrance Day: Powerful Memorials Around the World, Miami, Florida. Parade.Web. 9 Dec. 2015.

Figure 31

The Things They Carried, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 32

Big Momma's Music Box, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 33

Music Box, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 34

Music Box Open, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 35

Sayama Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

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LIST OF FIGURES Figure 36

MIT Chapel Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

Figure 37

Rothko Chapel Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

Figure 38

Windhover Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

FIgure 39

Capilla Del Retiro Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

Figure 40

Rituals Crematorium Precedent Study, University of South Florida. Personal Work by author. 2015.

Figure 41

Rothko Chapel, Houston, Texas. Personal photograph by author. 2014.

Figure 42

Rothko Chapel.Bender, Courtney. 2014. Houston. Reverberations Rothko Chapel Comments.Web. 07 Dec. 2015.

Figure 43

Fujii, Koji. Sayama Forest Community Hall. 2015. Sayama, Japan. Inhabitat.Web. 8 Dec. 2015.

Figure 44

Fujii, Koji. Sayama Forest Chapel. 2015. Sayama, Japan. Inhabitat.Web. 8 Dec. 2015.

Figure 45

G贸mez, Sergio. Rituals Crematorium. 2005. Guarne, Colombia. The Guardian.Web. 8 Dec. 2015.

Figure 46

Stipanov, Kristen, and Rahim Ullah. Windhover Contemplation Center Photo 1. 2014. Stanford, California. The Stanford Daily. Web. 8 Dec. 2015.

Figure 47

Stipanov, Kristen, and Rahim Ullah. Windhover Contemplation Center Photo 5. 2014. Stanford, California. The Stanford Daily. Web. 8 Dec. 2015.

Figure 48

Shadows, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 49

Pineapple Building, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 50

Benesse, Naoshima, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 51

Ritual, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 52

Fuji, Minamitsurugun, Yamanashi, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 53

Art Space, Naoshima, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 54

Pumpkin, Naoshima, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 55

Prayers, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 56

Zen Garden 2, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 57

Temple, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 58

Structure, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 59

Statue, Tokyo, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 60

Teshima Art Museum by Ryue Nishizawa. Art water installation by Rei Naito. Teshima. Pinterest. Web. 10 Dec. 2015

Figure 61

Light Show, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 62

Ryoanji Garden, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 63

Minhouse1227. IE PROJECT "Minamidera" by James Turrell&Tadao Ando. 2011. Flickr. Flickr.Web. 10 Dec. 2015.

Figure 64

Moss, Kyoto, Japan. Personal photograph by author. 2015.

Figure 65

Site Map, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 66

Site, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 67

Book Site Analysis, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 68

Book Site Analysis Close, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 69

Site Model, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

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LIST OF FIGURES Figure 70

Entrance Through the Water, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 71

Retreat, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 72

Retreat Plan, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. 2016.

Figure 73

Retreat Section East, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. 2016.

Figure 74

Reflection Pool, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 75

Retreat Section West, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. 2016.

Figure 76

Moss Garden, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 77

Hall, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 78

Moss Garden, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 79

Light on Wall, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 80

Sculpture Garden, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 81

Tea Room, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 82

Tea Room Model, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 83

Matcha White Chocolate with Genmaicha. 2015. To Her Core. By Dearna Bond. Web. 04 Apr. 2016.

Figure 84

Under Pool, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 85

Forest Pavillion, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 86

Water Pavillion, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. Watercolor. 2016.

Figure 87

Site Model Entrance, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 88

Site Model, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016..

Figure 89

Water Pavillion Site Model, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 90

Passing Reflection Pool, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 91

Byles, Spencer. "Spencer Byles Sculpts Mystical Forest Artworks from Natural Materials." Inhabitat Green Design Innovation Architecture Green Building. N.p., n.d. Web. 04 May 2016.

Figure 92

"Rotunda Dish of Water by CITYLABORATORY at Les Jardins De MĂŠtis Quebec." Dezeen Reflective Dish of Water to Be Installed at International Garden Festival in Quebec Comments. N.p., 10 Feb. 2014. Web. 04 May 2016.

Figure 93

Sanctuary Entrance, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 94

Sanctuary Plan, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. 2016.

Figure 95

Sanctuary, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Figure 96

Sanctuary Section, University of South Florida. Personal work by author. 2016.

Figure 97

Man Standing in Light, University of South Florida. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

129

WORK CITED Crosbie, Michael J. Architecture for the Gods. New York: Watson-Guptill Publications, 2000. Print.

Hejduk, Renata J., and Jim Williamson. The Religious Imagination in Modern and Contemporary Architecture: A Reader. New York: Routledge, 2011. Print.

Houser, Preston L., and Mizuno Katsuhiko. Invitation to Tea Gardens. Kyoto: Mitsumura Suiko Shoin, 1992. Print.

Irwin, Robert, and Lawrence Weschler. Being and Circumstance: Notes toward a Conditional Art. Larkspur Landing, CA: Lapis in Conjunction with the Pace Gallery and the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, 1985. Print.

Jarrett, Christian. "Psychology: How Many Senses Do We Have?" Future. BBC, 19 Nov. 2014. Web. 8 Oct. 2015.

Jones, Lindsay. The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture: Experience, Interpretation, Comparison. Hermeneutical Calisthenics ed.

Vol. Two. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2000. Print. A Morphology of Ritual-Architectural Priorities.

Jones, Lindsay. The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture: Experience, Interpretation, Comparison. Monumental Occasions ed. Vol. One. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 2000. Print. Reflections on the Eventfulness of Religious Architecture.

Lawlor, Anthony. The Temple in the House: Finding the Sacred in Everyday Architecture. New York: Putnam, 1994. Print.

Mann, A. T. Sacred Architecture. Shaftesbury, Dorset: Element, 1993. Print.

Menin, Sarah. Constructing Place: Mind and Matter. London: Routledge, 2003. Print. “Mind over Matter.� Architectural Record Feb. 2015: 64-69. Print.

Mitnick, Keith. Artificial Light: A Narrative Inquiry into the Nature of Abstraction, Immediacy, and Other Architectural Fictions. New York: Princeton Architectural, 2008. Print.

Myers, David. "Exploring Psychology." Google Books. N.p., 2004. Web. 04 Oct. 2015.

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I would like to thank all the people who contributed to my thesis. Especially the artists whose work I used. This work not only effected and inspired a lot of my thoughts, but acted as great examples to the kind of effect art can have on the human condition. I would also like to thank the people I spoke with who guided me through discussions and contributed to my ideas. To my professors and fellow classmates, to my family and friends, and to Tyler who I cannot thank enough.