architectural delusions
On
January 8th of this year, the architect Madeline Gins died, her
husband and architectural partner Arakawa having preceded her in death four
years earlier.
Madeline had been a long-time acquaintance and, over the years, had sent
me a couple of their theoretical books on architecture for possible publication
by Green Integer and Sun & Moon Press. As I noted in My Year 2004: Under Our Skin,
moreover, I joined them after a reading by Charles Bernstein and Kathleen
Fraser at a French restaurant where they discussed some of their architectural
ideas, in this case a project “in which rooms contain within them the history
of the past and are named after body parts: the ear, the nose, the liver, etc.”
Even today, I cannot comprehend exactly what these rooms might have looked like
or what effect having them named after body parts might have on the occupants.
But then I could never quite understand their odd notions about architecture
and its effect on human life
I could well grasp that buildings wherein
“Each apartment features a dining room with a grainy, surfaced floor….[and
wherein] electric switches are in unexpected places on the walls so you have to
feel around for the right one…[and] a glass door to the veranda is so small you
have to bend to crawl out” might help residents, as they put it, “to sharpen
themselves neurologically and derive corresponding physical and mental
benefits.” If nothing else, living in one of their constructions might be to
akin to living in a funhouse—perhaps a fun place to be, but also rather
frightening and spooky.
Working with their Reversible Destiny
Foundation, they created such architectural projects in New York, Japan, and
elsewhere, arguing in books and essays for “Making Dying Illegal” through
architecture.
Quite obviously, their ideal was not only
illusive but almost manic, playing out a kind of horrifying—at least to my way
of thinking—fear and fascination with death. While one might certainly admire
their holistic way of looking at the arts, one also has to admit that theirs
was an architecture of delusion. Arakawa died of unspecified disease at the age
of 73, Gins of cancer at age 72, ages younger than the median life expectancy
for most men and women in developed countries around the world. They were
dreamers whom we shall surely miss.
February 25, 2014
Reprinted
from Green Integer Blog (2014).
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