MaHKUzine #6, Winter 2009

e d i t o r i a l

s pat i a l p r ac t i c e s

d u t c h a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h e v e n t # 3

a n d r e a s m u e l l er

e s c a p i n g t h e g r i d

er i k a j a c o b s lo r d

s pat i a l s c e n a r i o s

w i m m a r s ei l l e

c r e at i v e c a s t s

a n d r e a s g er o l e m o u

t r a n s e r i u m, a n o n - p l a c e

i l s e b eu m er

r e a s e a r c h r e p o r t s

m a p p i n g p u b l i c s pa c e

c o l o f o n

3 – 4

5 – 8

9 – 18

19 – 28

29 – 40

41 – 49

50 – 54

56

6j o u r n a l o f a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h w i n t e r 2009

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l


5 – 8 d u t c h a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h e v e n t # 3


9 – 18 e s c a p i n g t h e g r i d


19 – 28 s pat i a l s c e n a r i o s


29 – 40 c r e at i v e c a s t s


41 – 49 t r a n s e r i u m, a n o n - p l a c e

i l s e b eu m er

r e s e a r c h r e p o r t

50 – 54 m a p p i n g p u b l i c s pa c e

56 c o l o f o n

In spite of the ample archive of spatial concepts, the profession

of spatial designer is not an easy one to define in the 21st century.

Whereas artistic interventions in space, in whatever form, open up

a reservoir of knowledge produced by social interactions, – once coined

relational aesthetics by Nicolas Bourriaud – enactments, and other

performance - based phenomena related to the domain of visual art,

the spatial design profession seems to drown in its spatial concepts

without reaching theoretical shores. In other words, both interior

designers and public space designers still lack a generally accepted

and inspiring form of knowledge production.

What, then, could knowledge production and a relevant theoretical

discourse mean for those professional space designers?

A phenomenological approach, in the sense of turning to designed

space as such, seems inevitable. But how should one understand

a designed space? Is it a constructed environment, as Parsons New

School for Design claims, in an Art & Education e - flux? Is it bringing

space to life in both interior and exterior forms? Do future theorists

of designed space have to engage in objects connoting space and,

for example, turn to Heidegger and his forms of Zuhandene developed

in his rather dense work Time and Being? Could one even ask space

designers to indulge in that type of philosophical deliberation?

Both interior designers and public space designers could look at the

domain of visual art for models and inspiration for developing a

spatial design discourse. In that visual domain, theorists, curators,

and artists collaborate in developing a field of artistic research while

scanning exhibitions, trends, and individual works of art. Spatial

design could address similar questions, including: What does

our 21st century designed space, environment, or surroundings

look like? What models of analysis could work in scanning them?

What are the trends in those designs? What are examples of high

quality, professionally excellent designs? How could those three

traces together produce novel concepts, insights and links with

a theoretically inspirational field? These issues echo the initial

background of the dare # 3 Graduate exhibition Spatial Practices

Academiegalerie and Dutch Design Center, August 29 - September 12 )Ω,

and the Spatial Practices symposium held at the Utrecht Centraal

Museum on September 10, 2008.

3editorial

Contemporary spatial design and the spatial research linked

to it seem to fan out in all directions. Public space, counter -

space, space of the non - place, interior space, self - managed

space, urban space, found space, spaces of flow, space

of creativity, smooth space, and striated space are just some

of the space concepts that appear in mahkuzine # 6, an issue

devoted to spatial practices. Obviously, practice in this spatial

context refers to activity and action in space not necessarily

performed by consumers of space - although that does not

seem to be excluded in the self - managed space radiating

a Bourriaud ambience – but rather by professional designers

of space.

-

( Ω pp. 5 - 8

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

Indeed, spatial design has the capacity to create its own mode of

knowledge production. Spatial research is able to produce a novel field

of knowledge accompanied by a novel conceptual framework linked

to spatial practices. mahkuzine # 6 issue scans contemporary ventures

and explorations in that future field of theory called spatial design

knowledge production. ( awb )

4

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

5

After last year’s discussion on The Politics of Design, the third dare

symposium’s title, “Spatial Practices”, seemed to shift the focus away

from an all-embracing political debate towards specific, pragmatic

and applicable practices. Held at Centraal Museum Utrecht on

September 12th, the symposium presented talks by two artists,

two architects and an architecture theorist. Its central theme was

the potential of spatial research for current cultural practices.

In recent years, the term spatial practice has been used to describe

new forms of interdisciplinary practices responding to the rapid

transformations of the contemporary city and the politics of territorial

relations. Spatial practice describes both the critical analysis of spatial

relations, and various forms of interventionist strategies.

Spatial Practice is a term coined by Henri Lefebvre in The Production

of Space, where he conceptualizes three basic types of spaces: Lived

Space, Perceived Space, and Conceived Space. This model tends

to distinguish among the symbolic meanings enacted in spatial form

lived space ), the spatial patterns of everyday life ( perceived space ),

and space as it is conceived through technocratic acts such as planning

conceived space ). Spatial Practice is introduced and described by

Lefebvre as a wider conception of practice superordinate to and

including any form of social practice, be it revolutionary or reformist.

By that definition, Spatial Practice denotes any practice that challenges

and alters existing configurations of space, based on the assumption

that space is a product – shaped by conflicting forces that act upon it.

Though this applies to any of the three above - named categories,

Lefebvre assigns Spatial Practice mainly to the category of Perceived

Space. It is here, in the space of social relations, of production and

reproduction, and of experiences of daily life, where Lefebvre locates

potential for the projects concerning alternative and counter - spaces.

The construction of such alternative spaces is one objective in the

work of Apolonija Sustersic. Though working within the art context,

her projects are often realized in public space, deal with urban politics,

and rely on the participation of the neighbors. Her concept of space

includes social networks, paralleled by economic networks,

from the micro-strategy of a free exchange shop to the analysis

of powerful restructuring efforts like gentrification. The video

and film archive “Video Home Video Exchange”, realized in 1999

in the Westfälischer Kunstverein in Münster, was a strategy to

motivate the local audience into becoming an active part of their

neighborhood. The act of exchange itself, where visitors could

exchange their private home videos for feature films, stimulated

participation and thus restructured the space of the community.

The temporary Community Research Off ice at ibid Projects in

East London was set up to monitor the process of gentrification

in the local area. It attempted to explore the reasons, processes

and consequences of change within urban development,

dutch artist ic research event # 3

a n d r e a s m uel l er

spatial pr actices

(

(

dare # 3, opening performance, spatial practices

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

where galleries and independent art spaces play an increasingly

important role.

For the project Garden Service, Sustersic, together with architect

and theoretician Meike Schalk, installed a public art piece along

the Royal Mile, the gentrified center of Edinburgh’s tourist industry.

They transformed a neglected piece of public land into a garden with

a simple trick: a stairway of five steps, installed to span a wall used

to separate the land from the street. Besides the material elements

of the stairs, benches, a table, and some flower pots, “Garden Service”

consisted of programmed sessions of Sunday afternoon tea talks with

the local inhabitants. The discussions were open to all and turned

the garden into a forum for local initiatives focusing on city planning

and environmental activism.

Staffan Schmidt presented his and Mike Bode’s project Off the Grid,

conducted as an artistic research PhD at the University of Gothenburg.

The project put inhabitants of a Swedish social housing estate in

a video interview dialogue with owners of so called off - grid homes

in the Northeastern US. The term “off - grid” refers to living

autonomously, in a self - sufficient manner, without reliance on public

utility services like the municipal water supply, sewers, gas relectrical

power grid.

The project merged seemingly incompatible experiences: eight

residents in Husby, an immigrant community outside Stockholm,

and eight households not connected to the utility grid, in upstate areas

of New England and New York State. The interviewees were paired

together and handed unedited copies of each other’s reflections.

The conversations revolved around three topics: travel, self - definition,

and community. Both groups – despite their extremely different

housing situations – consider the immediate living environments as

a tool to define their identities. Self - definition stands out as central:

it is opposed, delayed in its implementation, violated or threatened

still, all participants individually or collectively struggle to uphold it.

The alleged freedom of the off - grid homeowners to control their

environment seems to be the model for the residents of the Swedish

welfare system, too.

a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h

Both speakers described their work as a form of artistic research

aimed at the production of cultural knowledge. For Apolonija Sustersic,

the experiences generated in various projects add up to a body of

knowledge – e.g. about participation methods or communication

strategies – that then can be made available for other projects. But at

the same time her projects can be seen as very concrete educational

work, involving local inhabitants in the production of specific

knowledge about their local situation. Staffan Schmidt worked in

the format of a scientific report, applying research methods and

documentation techniques ( e.g. interviews ) from the social sciences.

His project produced a form of artistic knowledge, that is not directly

applicable, yet it might change the configuration of imagined spaces

for its participants and viewers.

The idea of research is not a new phenomenon in the field of

6

–

dare # 3, academie galerie, kris van veen, fine art

dare # 3, opening speech, harm scheltens, dutch design center

dare # 3, academie galerie, ma fine art

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

7

architecture. Research on design methods emerged in the 1960s

and ultimately led to a break with modernist planning ideals.

Architects and designers began to recognize the political

entanglements of their disciplines, and experimented with strategies

of participation, advocacy planning, or community design.

Activist strategies appeared in architecture and approached the urban

public space as a field of interventions. A concept that was developed

in this context is Participatory Action Research, a method that

approaches a given situation through research activities, involving

participants and existing local social networks. By combining the idea

of research with the idea of practice, this term might be an umbrella

term for all the projects discussed in the symposium.

Philipp Misselwitz talked about a collaborative research process to

redefine the role of an art institution and its relation to the city in what

he calls a Post - Public Environment. The project, done in collaboration

with Nikolaus Hirsch, Markus Miessen and Matthias Göhrlich,

accompanied the diverse activities of the European Kunsthalle

Cologne during its founding phase in 2005 - 07. Since the new

institution did not have its own exhibition space, the relation to its

public had to be rethought, and a concept for temporary exhibitions

in various public spaces was developed. In doing that, exhibition -

making became an interventionist practice and, at the same time

a laboratory for the development and testing of new institutional

models blurring the traditionally static boundaries between institution

and city.

For the exhibition project Models for Tomorrow, a range of publicly

accessible sites in urban space were used. The exhibition venues offered

various spatial concepts with varying opening times, represented

commercial or public interests, located in the center or on the city’s

periphery. The temporary, ‘unstable’ appropriation of found spaces

for programmatic work opened up a field of possibilities to rethink

the established ‘stable’ model of a Kunsthalle.

Lukasz Stanek presented comparative research on Nowa Huta, “the first

socialist city in Poland”, and Spangen, the working class neighborhood

in Rotterdam. He argued that the current situation in both cities must

be understood as post - socialist, since both cities experienced a major

rupture in the late 1980s, related to the end of the Keynesian welfare

state system. With the collapse of socialism in 1989, the housing

production in Nowa Huta went quiet, while the economic basis of

the city, its steel production, was suddenly challenged by a globalized

steel market. Spangen experienced a similar crisis a year earlier when

the almost 80 - year old Dutch housing act was dismantled and housing

corporations were allowed to enter the real estate market. Both events

marked a break with collectivist ideas. Collective consumption, and the

supply of housing as part of the welfare system, turned into individual

consumption and homeownership as part of a housing market.

Despite the drastic changes in the last 20 years, Stanek argued,

these post - socialist cities could not be reduced to sociological fossils

nor tourist attractions. Instead, their transformation into neoliberal

structures must be understood as mediated by the experiences

of the local past. The vision of the socialist city, the memories of

the inhabitants, the persistence of the practices of everyday life

dare # 3, performance, helen gras, fashion

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

8

and the material layout of the city still influence and mediate the

restructuring of space in both Nowa Huta and Spangen.

Doina Petrescu from the Paris-based Atelier d’Architecture Autogérée

Studio for Self - managed Architecture ) pointed out the political

dimension of their spatial practice. Devising micro - urban tactics,

they aim to reconstruction ‘spaces of proximity’ from the margins

of the capitalist city. As an example Petrescu presented a project

for a community garden in the Paris district of La Chapelle,

which has a large immigrant population. The community garden

and a recently squatted house close by explore the possibilities of

a collectively self-managed space. Using recycled materials and

with the help of many local residents, a vacant plot was transformed

into a space for public meetings for the entire neighborhood.

The process of constructing as a collective experience and the

appropriation of city spaces by inhabitants through participative

activities created a collective subjectivity. That this practice is at the

same time political, social and cultural became evident when the garden

turned into a forum for political debate on local conflicts, e.g. between

community activists and the city’s administration.

All projects presented during the symposium shared the fact that

they operated on the margins of the current capitalist production

of space rather than in the center. The situation that Lukas Stanek

observed in the post-socialist environments of Nowa Huta and

Spangen seems to be rather typical conditions in which we currently

work, as architects or artists concerned with spatial transformations.

They are characterized by a dismantling of welfare - state social

security networks, and their replacement by neoliberal demands

for self - management. The interviewees in Staffan Schmitt’s video

Off the Grid showed two distinct reactions to that dilemma, both

confirming the neoliberal transformation of space: the dropouts

discount the achievements of the welfare state in order to avoid

its obligations, which they see as constraining their freedom.

The social housing inhabitants, on the other hand, try to achieve

a certain ‘self - definition’ within the homogenizing welfare state

system.

That raises the question of whether the idea of spatial practice is

necessarily confined to marginality, to peripheral and temporal

interventions. Or might there be a possibility to think and operate

spatial practice as a pervasive practice that could eventually push

the production of space towards more emancipatory models?

(

dare # 3, dutch design center, ma design

dare # 3, mahku graduation ceremony

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

9

s m o o t h a n d s t r i at e d s pac ei n a r c h i t ec t u r a l d e s i g n

erik a jac o b s lo r d

escaping the grid

What if our everyday spaces were comprised of more than what can

be seen with the naked eye? They would not only appeal to the eyes,

but to the nose, fingertips, and ears. This type of space would

be difficult to define or even lay down in a plan because it cannot

be described in black and white, just as a menu entry cannot define

the define the delicate flavors of a dish, only list them. This space

needs to be touched and lived in, explored with the senses, not only

consumed with a rational eye. It is sometimes an impractical

space because it is for people who, by nature of being human beings,

are not practical themselves all the time themselves. This is a space

that, when it feels like it, reaches towards poetry.

Wolfgang Laib’s Wachsraum ( 1992 ) has these difficult, impractical,

yet poetic qualities. A narrow but tall corridor is lined with plates

of beeswax and lit by a single bare bulb. The honest nakedness of

the bulb contrasts with the rich scents of the beeswax. The walls

glow, but are impossible to render well in a photograph – the lighting

is difficult and there is no natural way to get the image in frame.

The space is actually too narrow, too tall without a standard functional

reason. There is only the need to make an extraordinary impression.

To experience it, you have to be there, walk through it, inhale deeply

and run your fingers along the wall, taking in physical impressions

that a reproduction could never give. Unfortunately the Wachsraum

is relegated to a museum. What if it were possible in everyday life

to have a wall worth stroking, or a special room in the house which

is there for the sake of fun or mystery? This essay is about escaping

the grid – the grid society sanctions for us, the grid our streets are

laid out upon, and the grid inside the construction of our dwellings.

Ringleaders Masterminds of the escape plan are Gilles Deleuze

and Félix Guattari. Their book A Thousand Plateaus introduced

fascinating new concepts of looking at the world which still inspire

philosophers, artists, and thinkers to delve into concepts presented

in that work. Here I will explore the DeleuzianΩ notion of smooth

and striated space as characterized in A Thousand Plateaus and the

significance it could bring to the physical space of architecture.

Deleuze and Guattari’s concept of smooth and striated space is

clarified in a collection of six models, one that is not final but open

to expansion ( d&g 1987: 499 - 500 ). Each model sketches a different

facet of the smooth/striated spatial relationship with a changing

underpinning of the notion of space for each model. Although some

of Deleuze and Guattari’s examples of smooth and striated space

involve procedessural change over long periods of time ( the taming

of the desert, the striation of the sea ), the transition and meeting of

the two spaces can blossom like the unfolding bellows of an accordion,

or burst out in violent fits like the wandering line an erratic heartbeat

draws onto graph paper.

Ω when deleuze and the adjective deleuzian are cited in this essay, it is a reference to the work of both deleuze and guat tari.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

10

Architectural space, as discussed in this essay, is suspended between

the spatial, aesthetic, physical, and artistic models just as the field

of architecture requisitely crosses into multiple disciplines in order

to be realized. An architectural project may be well-engineered but

aesthetically lacking, like European housing blocks from the 1980’s.

Or, it could be aesthetically beautiful but not engineered well, as with

the extension of Terminal 2e at the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris

which failed due to structural problems. Or perhaps the engineering

was good, but the physical construction process was improperly done

prohibiting the chemical process of curing concrete or good welds

between steel joints. Just as a building cannot be evaluated on just

one of these levels, so must a Deleuzian architectural space contain

or transverse several concomitant models.

Architectural space touches on the Deleuzian technological model

because it is constructed, the maritime model because people travel

in and navigate buildings ( the routing of space ), the physical model

because architects must respond to gravity, and the aesthetic

model because form and function are inseparable in the practice

of architecture. For the purposes of this essay, architectural space

will be handled as one fluid entity, the smooth and striated

space with which, and within which the ( interior ) architect works.

Before discussing architectural smooth and striated space, it will

be helpful to look first at how smooth and striated space is defined

by Deleuze and Guattari in A Thousand Plateaus. At first they define

the spaces only by their relationship to each other:

Smooth and striated space – nomad space and sedentary space –…

are not of the same nature. No sooner do we note a simple opposition

between the two kinds of space than we must indicated a much

more complex difference by virtue of which the successive terms

of the oppositions fail to coincide entirely. And no sooner have we

done that than we must remind ourselves that the two spaces in fact

exist only in mixture: smooth space is constantly being translated,

transversed into a striated space; striated space is constantly being

reversed, returned to a smooth space. … [ T ] he principles of the mixture,

which are not at all symmetrical, sometimes [ cause ] a passage from

the smooth to the striated, sometimes from the striated to the smooth,

according to entirely different movements”. ( d&g 1987: 474 - 5 ).

Smooth and striated spaces exist neither independently of each other,

nor in any fixed proportion to each other. Movement between the two

spaces is fluid, but does not have to be proportional or controlled;,

that is, it could occur suddenly and violently or creep slowly along.

Deleuze and Guattari use the sea as an example of smooth and

striated space ( d&g 1987: 479 ). The sea was, at first, a purely smooth

space. The earliest nomadic navigation was based on colors, sounds

and noise – haptic navigation – based on sensory input. As the sea was

gridded, cut into sections like a spherical pie, the space was gradually

striated as the stars were traced in the sky and parallel lines mapped.

Charts and calculations created an overlay system with the intentions

to reveal and dominate. The same occurred thing happened to the skies

once aeronautical space was explored. Once the domain of the birds,

the skies are now striated by the regular crossings of aircraft.•

That is not to say that there is no more smooth space inof the sky:

• regul ar crossings of aircraf t.

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

11

one just has to observe starlings steal it back at dusk, swooping and

swaying along enigmatic and unmappable paths through the air.

Metal birds and natural birds are part of the smooth and striated

whole in continuous mixture, sharing and struggling side by side.

Important to architectural smooth and striated space is the notion

of nomadic line. With this Deleuze and Guattari contrast the line of

so - called primitive nomadic or smooth art – close-range, non - optical,

haptic and expressive ( d&g 1987: 493 ) with that of striated art,

which uses distant vision, clear orientation, and central perspective

d&g 1987: 494 ). Deleuze and Guattari write that Egyptian art uses

a horizon - free close - range visualization while the Greeks conquer

depth and perspective with the use of optical space. Later, the authors

contrast the abstract ( smooth ) line with the concrete ( striated ) line.

The line is broadened into a plane, planes expand into the third

dimension. Egyptian art ( reliefs as opposed to sculpture ) could be

termed smooth in regards to its treatment of the background plane

no horizon, figures float ), however its rigidity and regularity pulls

it into striated space. At the Egyptian temple in Karnak, massive

carved columns rise in a strict grid. This is the ultimate striated

space, the “space of pillars” ( d&g 1987: 370 ).• Egyptians built for

permanence, ruled with fear and upheld static traditions which

assured longevity. The gravity and heaviness of the temple building

illustrates the striation of Egyptian culture, however smooth

elements the carved forms floating in space on the columns –

are indivisible from the whole.

Roman architecture incorporates more smooth elements in

comparison to other ancient cultures: the curved form of the arch

plays against the heavily striated Greek architecture from which their

building archetypes were inherited. Yet the arch in its symmetrical

form is still inherently striated. The Colosseum in Rome ( finished

80 A.D. ) integrates more curved forms than any other known Roman

building, however the arches are balanced in an elliptical grid.

Smooth elements, however, invade Roman villa interiors via the wall

paintings used for decoration. Both the Second and Third painting

styles incorporate “smooth” qualities.••

In the high Second Style of

painting, depicted here on the left from the Villa of P. Fannius Synistor

at Boscoreale ( ca. 40 - 30 B.C. ) perspective is used, but it is acentered.

Each element implies a different vanishing point, a dislocation for

the eye and shattering of central perspective. The Third Style of

wall painting, represented here by the “Black Room” of the Imperial

Villa at Boscotrecase ( last decade of 1st century B.C. ) tended toward

the surreal abstraction of architectural elements which floating

against undefined backgrounds. Over the evolution of Roman

painting, smooth elements emerge and retreat over time in contrast

to the more clearly striated architectural forms.

Smooth space and striated space did not spring into being emerge by

being written about in the 1980’s; the underpinnings and forces have

always been there in some shape or form, covertly or not, as in the

examples from Egypt and Rome. Although it is not possible in this

essay to catalogue smooth and striated space throughout architectural

history, the case of Le Corbusier is particularly interesting. Corbusier’s

book, Towards a new architecture and in particular the Villa Savoye

••vill a at boscotrecase.

•space of pill ars.

–

(

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

12

laid out and exemplified his principles of architecture. His design

attitude, like that of many of the Modernists, was based on the

mastery of nature, clean gridded elements which celebrated the

achievements of industrialization. The Ville Radieuse plan of 1930

Frampton 1992:180 ) was a Modernist – and perfectly striated – utopia

whose powerful influence still echoes throughout European housing

developments today. Yet despite Corbusier’s mastery of striated space,

smooth space snuck in the back door, not being the kind of visitor

to knock. Corbusier’s paintings made later in life exhibit many signs

of Deleuze and Guattari’s aesthetic model: abstract line, lack of clear

horizon, and close-range vision. A “smooth” Corbusier is wholly present

at the Chapelle Notre Dame in Ronchamp, France ( 1950 - 55 ),• where

the crab-shaped roof volume sidles up to thick concrete walls to only

float above them. Small windows pierce through the walls, allowing

light to paint an otherworldly sphere. The walls are covered with gunite

Kostoff 1985: 732 ) or concrete sprayed onto a surface to create a deep

texture which catches and plays with light. Corbusier uses all of these

effects which appeal to the senses in what could be called a haptic

space. The grid, the basis of striated space, is subjugated to make

way for undulating forms, non-orthogonal connection and continuous

figural variation. Aside from the treatment of the space, the structured

program of Catholic religious space is applied as rigorously as ever,

where the absolutely striated laws of the Church prevail.

The crucial question an ( interior ) architect might ask is how to take

account of smooth and striated forces in one design model, even if

this is trying to tame the untamable or control the uncontrollable.

Can a space with both smooth and striated elements even be designed,

or must by definition smooth space come from outside, stealing in

like a thief at night, rising out of a dark hiding place? One answer

can be seen in the Watts Towers in Los Angeles, California. Here the

artist Simon Rodia did not build to any plan but with found material

and a “bottom-up” process of local decisions. His ideas changed

during construction, meaning the construction changed during

the building process. His structures adhere to fluid logic yet are

heterogeneously constructed out of steel, cement and various other

debris such as glass, china and broken bottles ( Harris 2005: 52 - 3 ).

Rodia built his structures with close-range vision using his senses

to create instead of sitting at a desk drawing plans and sections.

Unfortunately this construction technique is not possible for designers

working commercially, and certainly not for buildings which must

be inhabitable. However, one could ask how possible it is for a designer

the person in control, the One Who Striates – to design smooth spaces

into their work, that is, to let the smooth space in.

A number of architects have spent their careers working with methods

to make their work more dynamic by introducing new ways of

designing or changing the role of the architect from God - like figure

to the manager of architectonic elements. Kas Oosterhuis’ Trans-ports

2000 ) designed for the Architecture Biennale in Venice is a building

which works like a giant, flexing muscle. The designer may program

the computers that control the building, but in this case external

data transported over the Internet as well as actions of on-site visitors

determine the form or stance of the structure, which in turn may

• chapelle notre dame in ronchamp, france.

(

–

(

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

13

be any stage of tense or relaxed depending on all of the variables.

The designer here is not designing the form, but the possibility

of what the form may become. As Deleuze and Guattari state, the act

or the space of becoming is, after all, inherently smooth ( d&g 1987:

486 ). The grid in Oosterhuis’ design has been subsumed into a

mechanical skin which is connected to computers that serves as its

sensory input channels. The computer programs written in a rigid

programming language exist in striated space, and the sensory input

and output which cause the changing of the skin occupy smooth space

in this work.

The work of Frank Gehry and Greg Lynn also hovers at the “smooth”

end of the spectrum. Both architects are known for their work with

the non - standard forms known as blobs.• However when architectural

space is fully striated ( such as Mies van der Rohe’s Seagram building,

New York, 1958 ) or fully smooth ( Gehry’s Experience Music Project,

Seattle, 2000 ) the result can be less than provocative. A mixture of

smooth and striated space and the tension or conflict between them

is not only necessary ( they do not exist independently of each other )

but spatially more compelling. UN Studio explore specifically the

mixture of the two spaces in their “blob to box” model which they

developed for the Music Theater in Graz ( 1998-2008 ). Here they

combine the strict technical program of the theater ( black box )

with more informal routing created for the milling audience milling

about ( blob ). The two functions of theater and lobby and are combined

into two discrete programs where movement from striated space

to smooth space is choreographed. However, what happens when

blob and box, the smooth and striated spaces, commingle and stage

their dance in front of an audience for all to see? The crux of the

matter of smooth and striated space for the designer may just be

in the struggle between the two spaces, where they meet and/or

repel each other and how one traverses into the other.

But to be clear: it is impossible to design a smooth space, just as it

is impossible to design the sea, a desert or the wind as described

by Deleuze in his chapter on smooth and striated space in A Thousand

Plateaus. A translation from the philosophical to spatial context is,

in a strict sense, difficult if not impossible. This is the paradox that

any designer must contend with and resolve for herself. Solutions

such as Simon Rodia’s towers address fluidity and flexibility

during the construction process, while Kas Oosterhuis uses precise

technology to make a flexible structure. Corbusier’s chapel meanwhile

could be termed a non - optic space that works primarily on a sensory

level. These examples show the open - ended possibilities when working

with the Deleuzian notions of smooth and striated space. While the

mixture of smooth and striated spaces in physical spaces adds another

dimension to design, their presence need never be a goal in itself

but a means of achieving more interesting, provocative work.

Crucial to smooth and striated space, but especially to the designer

thereof, is the manner of transition from one space to the other

and back. Deleuze and Guattari discuss the meeting point of smooth

and striated space with the notion of the clinamen, defined by

Lucretius in the first century B.C. Deleuze and Guattari see the

clinamen as the difference between the straight line and the curve,

• k as oosterhuis, trans-ports

( 2000 ).

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

14

the smallest deviation, the minimum excess” ( d&g 1987: 371 ).

They again refer to the clinamen in their physical model of smooth

and striated space: the transformation from striated to smooth space

happens either by declination ( the smallest deviation ) or by vortical

flow ( d&g 1987: 489 ). Smooth space, “the space of contact”,

systems of sounds or colors ( d&g 1987: 371 ), occupies this tiny

space of deviation. This is where the action is, the crucial moment

in which one atom veers off in a slightly different direction than

the rest, causing a chain reaction of events to occur, or the genesis

of new forms.

In Lucretius’ atomist model of the universe, the world began as atoms

falling through the void in what we now call laminar flow.• Without

the clinamen, the “minimum angle of formation of a vortex”, atoms

would not have been able to collide or interact and the world would

not have been able to form ( Serres 2000: 6 ). The vortex brings

development and opportunity for interaction and growth.

Physics has told us that first there was atomic chaos and that

order emerges from disorder, but really it is the other way around

Serres 2000: 27 ). Disorder sets the stage for becoming. It generates,

produces, and evolves. Vortical flow – one of the escape routes

from striated space – arises out of and returns to laminar flow,

or the flow of sheets of air or water which glide over each other

in varying densities.Ω If the parallel ( striated ) layers are disturbed,

vortical or whirling turbulent ( smooth ) flow is produced.

While examples of flocking and turbulent flow logically lean towards

chaos theory and the notion of randomness or chance, it is notable

that Deleuze and Guattari, while writing about smooth and striated

space, do not invoke either of the aforementioned terms or the

language of chaos theory in A Thousand Plateaus. One could

speculate that this was a conscious choice, as chaos theory predates

the text by several decades. Turbulent flow does not imply randomness

or chaos, and neither does the concept of smooth space. Smooth

space may make a dramatic entrance worthy of a self-obsessive diva

or wander in quietly like the mind of an abstracted professor,

but never accidentally.

For a long time turbulence was identified with disorder or noise.

Today we know that this is not the case. Indeed, while turbulent

motion appears as irregular or chaotic on the macroscopic scale,

it is, on the contrary, highly organized in the microscopic scale.

The multiple space and time scales involved in turbulence correspond

to the coherent behavior of millions and millions of molecules.”

Prigogine and Stengers 1984: 141 ).

Turbulence is at once a boon and bane, destructive and constructive.

A spinning top is the vortex in action, stable and instable, order and

disorder at once, indeterminate in its short life ( Serres 2000: 30 ).

Via the clinamen, the minimal angle, the vortex is a mechanism

of escape, growth and ( re )birth, a way out and back again, one path

between smooth and striated space.

Jumping from Lucretius to Heisenberg and from the atom to the atomic

particle, one step smaller and more elemental, the world of subatomic

physics is even more uncertain than that of Lucretius’ atom.

Subatomic particles are the nomads of the universe: elusive,

Ωht tp: //hyperphysics.phy-astr.gsu.edu/hbase /pfric.html

• vortical flow

(

(

“

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

15

evasive, difficult to find or measure. One doesn’t know exactly their

velocity, where ( or when ) particles are according to the Heisenberg

Uncertainty Principle, but one can predict the probability of where

they may be and how fast they are going ( Kaku 1994: 114 ). A picture

from the bubble chamber at the cern laboratory in Switzerland

shows pi mesons in liquid hydrogen, creating spirals as they decay.Ω

Here the particles shoot violently yet gracefully from a straight

to a vortical path, winding away into new forms at different levels

of energy.• These particles are not just swerving, they are

transforming into a wholly new state.

Let us consider the impact that working in and around the space

of the clinamen has for architectural designers. As discussed earlier,

achieving a truly smooth space may be in itself impossible.

However, architects such as Bernard Tschumi and Rem Koolhaas

have dealt with the issue by interpreting the built environment as

a fluid cinematic experience. Rather than as static object, architectonic

spaces as viewed through a first-person frame of reference are

perceived successively, like scenes in a film. These can be edited

according to artistic vision of the director who choreographs jumps

in time and place and manages the storyline. By viewing space in this

fluid, dynamic way, a layer of smooth space can be grafted onto the

architectonic object even though the object itself may not posses

the qualities of smooth space.

Bernard Tschumi did a series of explicit translations of film form

cutting, jumping, device and counterpoint ) in his Screenplay Series

1978-82 ). Scenes from films inspire sequences and entire programs

of architecture ( Tschumi 1997: 15 ). Beyond this early work, Tschumi

has spent years exploring the connections between motion and program

in his work. Just as progression is a necessity within several Deleuzian

models of smooth and striated space, time becomes a key factor once

architecture becomes filmic and processual.

Along with the fascination of time and film in architecture, Tschumi

experiments with and uses “in-between” space frequently in his

work. According to him, “in-between space is activated by the motion

of bodies in that space” ( Tschumi 1997:21 ), meaning that only

the movement of users in the space – a wholly unpredictable flow –

completes the space. His in - between spaces are often literally formed

between two shells or skins and are, without the attendant users or

program-makers, indeterminate in nature. In my view this connects

again with the notion of clinamen in the sense that a clinamenic

space is where the tide of smooth and striated space shifts.

When applied to human experience, the vortex, the outcome of the

minimal angle, takes on a more sinister quality. When dizziness

or vertigo occurs, “the circumferential fringe of vision swirls in on

the perpectival vanishing point in a vortex of potential experience,

like turbulent water around a drain.” ( Massumi 2004: 325 ).••

Up and

down are confused, the horizon and ground plane seem to rotate as

in a vortex and in some cases the eyes themselves move in circular

motion.Ω ( While vertigo is not generally desired as a condition, there

are those that pay for the experience at amusement parks). Vertigo, or

vortical experience, has been designed into architecture as a tool for

transformation through the intentional ungrounding of the user. Two

Ω ht tp: //cdsweb.cern.ch/record/39474

Ω ht tp: // w w w.neurologychannel.com/ vertigo/diagnosis.shtml

• a picture from the bubble chamber at the cern l aboratory in swit zerl and

••a vortex of potential experience

(

(

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

16

examples show this effect particularly well: the Garden of Exile in

Daniel Liebeskind’s’ Jewish Museum ( 1999 ), where uneven ground

and tilting columns produce disorientation if not nausea. Lars Spuybroek

uses the vortex as a generative principle of form in his project for an

exhibition space, wet grid ( 1999 - 2000 ). Not only was the structure

produced by interaction of vortices on a set of parallel lines, but by the

placing works of art above, below and around the visitor, imploring

a tilting of the head, an arching of the back and other extreme

positions. Vertigo and the vortex become part of the experience of

space. ( Spuybroek 2004: 157 ). The vortex functions as a manifestation

of smooth space, in feeling or in form. More importantly, it is an

example of how smooth space can be designed via Spuybroek’s analog

machine, which produces vortical, vertigo - inducing forms. The vortex,

the progeny of the clinamen, breaks up the grid and instead of

drawing a line between two points, spirals and dances around them.

Dancing brings us back to where the clinamen was first described,

by Lucretius over two millennia ago. The inbuilt contradiction

of turbulence – of order that it creates but can also disrupt– can

also be found in the language, in the gap between turba and turbo.

Turba is a multitude, confusion and tumult, disorder. The Greek

τυρβη, turbé, is also used to describe the mad dancing in Bacchic

festivals ( Serres 2000: 28 ). And there is a difference withto turbo,

which describes the vortical and comparatively ordered movement

of a spinning top, stable even while it leans and sways,

but which only gives an illusion of rest. This is the movement

of the wind, and of water. Lucretius writes of the streaming - chaos

or laminar flow in the void, and the cloud-chaos, a fluctuation of

oppositions ( Serres 2000: 30 ). There is no true rest in Lucretius’

universe, but only flow and streaming chaos changed by declination,

the minimum angle, the vortex forming to create and destroy.

The world around us is a flowing, dynamic system, whether

we characterize it by the fall of atoms or the spinning of quarks.

Even on the human scale there is a flow to life, a fluidity that

surrounds us in nature, the seasons, in the path of a life. Yet as

much as science tells us about nature or what we can observe

ourselves, the architectonic objects produced by our culture place

a greater value on static, rigid forms. Architecture is now in rehab

after its long-term addiction to the grid. At the height of Modernism,

and later during the reign of the “superstructure”, the grid on

the engineer’s drafting table had thewas in danger of becoming

more important than its inhabitants. By using the notions of

smooth and striated space as tools of analysis and design, the grid

can be mollified. The minimum angle can be set free to spiral away,

dancing towards chaos and back, flowing between layers of smooth

and striated space causing crashing storms or lulling them back

to laminar flow.

c o n c l u s i o n

Do not multiply models,” write Deleuze and Guattari ( d&g 1987:499 );

but in this case, Messieurs, I will have to disappoint you. To understand

smooth and striated space in terms of the physical environment

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

17

I must do both multiplication and division. Architects are the ultimate

jacks of all trades. Vitruvius wrote in 27 B.C. that a good architect

must be educated in manual skills, scholarship, history, drawing,

philosophy, medicine, and astronomy, ( though not expected to master

all of them ), and today while the required fields of knowledge

have shifted, the generalist approach of the architect remains.Ω

Because the field of architecture touches on so many aspects such

as physics, material technology, social questions, psychology, art

and philosophy, there is not one singular notion of smooth and

striated space which could fit architecture as a whole. Instead, smooth

and striated space simultaneously translates, traverses and reverses

through a varying conglomeration of layers. Architectural space

cuts through this to reveal a brilliantly variegated yet irrevocably

fused cross section of its totality.

The space of action at the clinamen, or the transformation from

smooth to striated space and back, is present on scales from the

subatomic to macrocosmic, yet part of the routine of daily life

which may go utterly unnoticed. When approaching concepts

of smooth and striated space in architecture, the designer can

use the notions of clinamen and indeterminacy to initiate change

within designed spaces. Just as the examples here have shown,

smooth and striated space can be observed at many levels

simultaneously, not as a rigid program but as a dynamic and

omnipresent part of life. Architectural space is thus, in the Deleuzian

sense, the coalescence or multiplicity of all possible smooth and

striated spatial relationships within reach of the project. Designers

are used to working with the directions of the wind and sun, but

what about birdsong, the scents of cooking food cooking, or the

path the cat takes while surfing sunbeams? Designing a space

based on its smooth and striated aspects can be a source of new

methodologies for approaching architectural space, whether done

as a back room analysis, in a daydream, or as a significant role in

the approach of the designer. In other words, this approach provides

plenty of ways to let smooth space dance around the grid, to escape

it and ricochet back.

Spatial analysis and design only become richer when smooth and

striated spaces are taken into account. Even the design process

can benefit, as many designers have already proven. The mixture

of smooth and striated space exists from site level to details and

materials, but also in the emotional mixture of the spaces, use

of sensoryial elements, variation of long- and close-range elements

and homogenous and heterogeneous spaces. Not all projects may

involve all layers, but in every case the opportunity for playfulness

and variation exists.•

s o u r c e s

Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari

A T housand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia ,

trans. Brian Massumi

London, University of Minnesota press ( 1987 ).

Ω ht tp: // w w w.lih.gre.ac.uk /histhe /vitruvius.htm

• frank gehry’s experience music project, seat tle, usa: “never believe that a smooth space will suffice to save us” ( d&g 1987: 500 ).

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

18

Frampton, Kenneth

Modern Archit ec ture: a Cr it i cal His tor y, 3rd ed.

London, Thames and Hudson, Ltd ( 1992 ).

Harris, Paul

To See with the Mind and T hink through the Eye:

Deleuze, Folding Archit ec ture, and Simon Rodia’s Watts Towers”,

p 36 - 60 of Ian Buchanan and Gregg Lambert eds. Deleuze and Space

Toronto, University of Toronto Press ( 2005 ).

Kaku, Michio

Hyperspace

New York, Anchor Books ( 1994 ).

Kostoff, Spiro

A His tor y of Archit ec ture , Set t ings and Rituals

Oxford, Oxford University Press ( 1985 ).

Prigogine, Ilya and Isabelle Stengers

Order Out of Chaos

London, Bantam ( 1984 ).

Serres, Michel

T he Bir th of Physics

trans. Jack Jawkes

Manchester, Clinamen Press ( 2000 ).

Tschumi, Bernard

Architec ture in/of Motion

Rotterdam, NAi Publishers ( 1997 ).

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

19

w im m a rseil l e

spatial sc enarios

Since research emerged as an influential factor in art and design,

interior designers have become aware of their poor theoretical

background. In 2002, the magazine de Architect devoted an entire

issue to that lack of theory. In the preface, Janny Rodermond

stressed, “Nonetheless our educational system lacks a comprehensive

stockpile of information on the history of the interior and on current

developments and assignments. Without such a source and its

ongoing development Interior Architecture cannot shed its stylistic,

ornamental image” ( Rodermond 2002: 8,16 ). In the magazine,

the cases presented showed promising practices incorporating

a variety of research methodologies in the process of design.

Yet, there were neither theories as basis nor concluding reflections

to help in developing theory. One could say interior design is based

on the references of case studies like a ‘science of jurisprudence’

Van Aller 2003 ).

The renowned interior design cases seem to merely form a collective

memory of references functioning as standards in practice-based

research. In addition, many interior architects are convinced that

the quality of the interior space is hard to define and even impossible

to photograph. “The interior space cannot really be represented;

you have to go there!” ( Spanjaard 2007 ). Indeed, the human

experience is celebrated to such an extent in interior design

that representations are considered insufficient and any reflection

on design ideas tends to be ignored. How do interior designers

deal with the lack of a theoretical discourse and research attitudes?

To be sure, the field of interior design contains historical reviews,

topical reflections, magazines full of case studies, discussions

and symposia. However, in spite of all those publications, there

is no general body of texts considered the theoretical basis for the

profession. In the context of their interior design theory reader Intimus,

Mark Taylor and Julieanna Preston state that when investigating

several readers used in art schools and universities, there was a lack

of a common collection of essays for interior design reflection.

Initial informal surveys of interior design/interior architecture

and spatial art university programs revealed that not only approaches,

outlooks and pedagogical philosophies differ, but also the scope

of theoretical texts rarely repeat or identify a distinct set of readings,”

they claim ( Taylor and Preston 2006: 6 ). All educators seem to borrow

from different disciplines such as geography, sociology, anthropology,

philosophy, and gender studies.

In everyday practice, input for designers and their sources of inspiration

differ greatly and seem to be mainly related to educational background.

Their reference tools, however, seem to be mainly connected to a

design attitude. For example, interior facilitators need an immense

“library of materials” necessary for a design process where

expenses and delivery time are the decisive factors ( De Bont 2008 ).

In conceptual interior design offices, all kinds of visual sources serve

to illustrate the design concept presented to the client. Such visuals

(

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

20

are specifically utilized in design competitions where the designer is

absent at the time of presentation ( Hasanzadeh 2008 ). The variety of

sources of inspiration and reference tools in the interior design field

make it hard to generate a coherent theoretical design discourse.

The scattered picture so far generates two questions. First, is there

an effective definition of interior design? Second, what is in fact

the relation between theory and practice in interior design? These

questions are closely related in the discussion on interior design and

the development of a theoretical discourse and research attitudes.

An important trace in the origin of interior design lies historically

in craftsmanship. “Since furnishing is made out of different

materials a designer has to coordinate the cooperation of craftsmen.”

Boonzaaijer 1985 ) In the various European countries, other artisanal

traditions have been influential in the profession. In France and

Britain, wall decoration and upholstery were part of the profession,

where the interior designer, or decorator, coordinated the dressing

of space. In Germany and the Netherlands, interior design implied

the coordination of carpentry, so the designer was known as an

Indoor Architect’. In Italy, even today, one does not use the term

interior designer; there are only architects or product designers.

As the job of coordination expanded, interior designers started

to distinguish themselves from the practical craftsmen and the

commercial salesmen of interior equipment. Not only did interior

designers highlight their aesthetic and artistic talents, they also

proclaimed a doctrine of conventions for rationalized living and

improved quality of life. The profession of interior design established

associations and foundations promoting those ideals. In the

Netherlands, the association Goed Wonen ( Good Living ) is a 1960s

example of that trend.

Similar to architects, interior designers organized themselves into

professional organizations and devoted much time and energy to

discussing the boundaries of their discipline. The interior designer’s

position between architect and interior decorator was a difficult

balance. In characterizing interior design as spatial profession,

ornamentation and styling were rejected while an emphasis on the

human scale set the profession apart from the architectural domain.

The formulated competencies for the interior design profession had

to be met by educational institutions. The result was a compromise

in skills, knowledge and attitudes aiming at an all - round profession

for interior architecture.

Today, the organization of indoor space has become so complex

that teamwork is needed, whith the interior designer not always

in the leading position. The profession’s artistic and aesthetic

approach is no longer sufficient for dealing with commercial,

logistic, economic and organizational factors. The one - way process

from assignment via design to completion must become less rigid,

including a flexible time factor required by economic factors.

The traditional phases of briefing, debriefing, sketch design,

final design, contracting, and building are now interconnected,

resulting in a process of propositions and adjustments.

What is the impact of the development of the profession of interior

design on today’s need for a theoretical discourse and research

(

‘

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

21

attitudes? In three examples of designers with roots in different

disciplines, I will explore how strategies in design could affect

a theoretical discourse. Marcel de Bont, interior facilitator, educated

as a manager, now designs turn-key offices. ( www.huisvesting.nl )

Ronald Hooft, artist designer, has a background in fine art, now

designs avant-garde restaurants together with architect Herman Prast.

www.pratshooft.nl ) Herman Verkerk, event architect, educated

as an architect, is now engaged in interior design for the cultural

sector. ( www.eventarchitecture.nl )

Interior facilitator Marcel de Bont takes the burden of relocating

an office and shows the client step by step which decisions must

be made. The pragmatic agenda implies management and economy,

but hardly generates new insights in the development of a theoretical

discourse for interior design. Artist designer Ronald Hooft has

a reputation of creating a design novelty in the restaurant world.

In a fluent process of creativity, the location is being stripped,

negotiations on kitchen equipment are starting, while design sketches

are still rough outlines. In Hooft’s flexible process an overall view is

important. “In parts of the sketches we know exactly what it will be;

others are more flexible so they can change over the years. The spatial

quality always should allow change, so you do not have to modify the

construction. In our concept, the way things are attached to another

is important: a floor to a ceiling, or a staircase as a transition area

or resting area. That how what the interior architect is distinguished

from the decorator.” ( Hooft 2008 ) Event architect Herman Verkerk

does not propose a set of options, but creates a well - argued “optimum”

a cycle of acting and checking – for reflection. “Reality is adaptable;

lines in your drawing have multiple interpretations whereas

the amount of contextual information continues to increase,”

says Verkerk. ( Verkerk, 2008 )

These examples show how multidisciplinarity in the field of interior

design results in new approaches to the field. Both the artist designer

and the event architect fully embrace complexity and design in

a flexible and fluent process of propositions and adjustments.

That fluidity of process seems to reflect our current Internet society.

In The Rise of the Network Society, The Information Age: Economy,

Society and Culture, Emanuel Castells develops the concept of ‘spaces

of flow’. Complexity and fluidity are captured in that 21st century

notion of space. The spatial approaches of designers tend to vary

between fixed identifications of the context to playful embracing

of the fluid complexity. Yet, the developments in the practice of

the profession seem to inevitably progress toward stressing the fluid

and the complex. Such a design attitude could imply a multitude

of fluent perspectives, rearrangements and scenarios. Such shift

in design attitude could be demonstrated by further design practices.

One of the icons of modernism, the butterfly chair by Arne Jacobsen,

illustrates how contradiction, categorization and composition form

the premises of functional design. The chair is divided in its two

functional parts, a seat and a frame. The design process continuously

optimizes the designated functions. The seat and back ought

to be warm and bendy and thus made of plywood, while the frame

has to be strong and thin, and so manufactured from metal.

(

–

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

22

Even aesthetically, the categorization continues: the parts are divided

clearly in a distinctive connection; the seat’s bright colors attract

attention while the frame’s appearance is downplayed in reflective

chrome. The entire chair is a composition; it is literally constructed

as an idealist expression.

Conversely, 21st century design is not based on functional

design, implying the notions of contradiction, categorization

and composition. Today, design instead points to perspective,

rearrangement and scenario. For example, for an “ideal home”,

designer Hella Jongerius created a collection of layered perspectives

filled with all possible choices of doors, plates, curtains and chairs.

Jongerius’ color collection for Vitra rearranges historical colors

used by Vitra to which transparent colored sheets are added so

as to increase the number of possible color scenarios.

While the modernists loved to project their ideal on a ‘tabula rasa’,

today different perspectives are included as a means to reveal

an insight in the unique case at hand. In this approach, two shifts

are crucial. Firstly, the external spectator has become an internal

participant. There is no longer the wish to come to an eternally

valid analysis; the goal is to arrive at a particularly interesting

option where contradiction shifts to multiple perspectives. Secondly,

mapping the complete design contexts is decisive for arriving at

a new understanding. The design is an attempt to reveal and elaborate

on that understanding of the situation, so the act of design is mostly

a rearrangement of existing facts rather than deliberately constructing

forms following their predominant category of functioning. As a result

the design is a flexible scenario rather than a fixed composition.

Let’s explore these three characteristics of perspective, rearrangement

and scenario further in interior design practices and see how they could

play a role in a theoretical discourse. In his work, Herman Verkerk

aims at a nuanced reality. Instead of making the design context

abstract, interpreting it rigidly or starting from scratch, Verkerk

analyses the design context as closely and from as many perspectives

as possible. That analysis, however, is not directly connected to

the result. It is a way of getting a well - balanced grip on the case.

Verkerk says, “In the end it is a matter of what you take as the context,

what data you accept to work with as a frame. That battle with the

context is interesting. That is why analysis is so important, because

it provides you with the information to transform a negative or

neutral feature to a positive one. So when there is a repulsive ceiling

at the ‘Coming Soon’ shop•, I think: Hmm, lovely, an ugly ceiling.”

The modernist characteristics of contradiction, categorization and

composition are still present in the design process but no longer play

a dominant role. Streams of notions go beyond contradiction;

categories are created in a fluent way, and compositions appear

in a dynamic setting. The “optimum” and nuanced reality Verkerk

works with is an attempt to create a specific context. Perspective,

rearrangement, and scenario as characteristics of a topical design

attitude are only partially incorporated. Many perspectives are utilized

to arrive at a nuanced image of the context. Processing the information

is based on rearrangement, such as observing and drawing in

photographs, observing and reorganizing the photos. But the action

•herman verkerk, coming soon, arnhem.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

23

to make a design is closer to a composition than to a rearrangement.

The result is not so much a scenario but as Verkerk calls it “an optimum

to formulate a new coherence of many distinct aspects.”

Interestingly, in Verkerk’s work, the alternation between analysis

and design slowly moves toward a proposal that can be considered

both as analysis and design. As a consequence, rearrangement

and composition are interrelated. Though pure rearrangement

would stick to the components at hand, and strict composition derives

from additions in an empty setting, Verkerk works slowly towards

an “optimum”, a best possible compromise arranging components

as the design context requires. In so doing, he adds information

coherently to arrive at a nuanced reality. An added layer unifies

the complexity of interests. Flexibility is integrated in the design

result, but since it is not explicit, as in a combination of scenarios,

the insights into the particular design process are hard to grasp.

An analysis of the design attitude, however, reveals the crucial

points of attention, motivation and interpretation.

Ronald Hooft celebrates complexity in another way. When he introduced

the case of his famous design for the Harkema restaurant•, he did not

talk about an aesthetic concept but started listing an immense amount

of data, making it absolutely impossible to brief the commissioner.

You can’t get a shark tank” is the office slogan. Hooft does not try

to solve the design puzzle in its totality, but works step by step

defining the crucial points of tension. For a new restaurant, he does

not make plans, just a sketch, to be able to talk about the atmosphere.

If I’d made a computer drawing right now, the client would think

there was already a design, while the crucial point at the moment is

to see if the kitchen supplier can do 70 cm less to create space needed

to improve the route to the toilets.” What Hooft actually does is set

up a complete arrangement in his mind and then decide what parts

have to be adjusted to create a clear design. Multiple perspectives,

rearrangements, and scenarios all play a role in the design process.

In addition, design aspects imply function, logistics, routing,

atmosphere, materials, colors, acoustics, commerce, legitimation,

and graphics, and a host of other criteria such as commercial profit,

wellbeing, and critical awareness. When we view Hooft’s interiors

as artistic installations, the complexity, the critical visual form

of the design, and the decisive details become crucial.

Thus, designers do have particular ways of approaching the design

context, and use various perspectives, rearrangements and scenarios

to enrich the given context. It is interesting to see how Herman

Verkerk has no preset ideal in any design context, but looks for unique

cultural value, whereas Ronald Hooft creates a piece of work where

space and experience are integrated. Could one conclude that the

three notions of perspective, rearrangement, and scenario indeed

are strong analytical tools and could act as a starting point

for producing a theoretical discourse and a research attitude?

Unfortunately, in the design processes discussed, perspectives

are not strictly mapped in a rearrangement. The design result as such

is complex and enriched by layers of information. A representation

of the design will bring forth new interpretations and force the design

to produce another process of discourse production.

•ronald hoof t, harkema.

“

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

24

Verkerk has collaborated for years with photographer Johannes

Schwartz in an attempt to create a significant representation of

his oeuvre. Coming Soon Arnhem provides images properly framed

to exclude the building parts that would spoil the illusion ( Coming

Soon Arnhem 2007 ). Schwartz manages to give an interpretation

of the design implying the concepts in his two-dimensional art and

creating compositions that form a new critical reality ( Verkerk 2008 ).

Verkerk says, “I was at first shocked by the butt - naked character,

but it sure is distinctive! And I am fond of the drawings that go along

with it. They give a representation of the design in another way.

It remains difficult though, reproduction.”

Hooft accepts that his interiors do not easily reveal his intentions

and simply starts a new chapter with replaying the former.

The concept does not come across so well, it is a manifestation

that the consumers get in magazines. But we are flexible while

creating and can make something more decorative, or gloomy,

or clear. We can be very diverse but as soon as you have made

something people want that particular style signature. It takes

more time to give a proper representation. Now we are doing a hotel

and were asked to make a plan straight away. But it does not have

any significance when you do not analyze and investigate all

parameters, the program of demands. So instead we guide the

commissioners through a completed work of ours to show we are

capable to handle complexity and organize space satisfactorily.

So, the prints are in the magazines but we like to walk through

the real site instead and tell about the organization, and the complex

information and work a designer needs. You have to convey that,

otherwise people do not understand why you ask so much money.”

In both Verkerk’s and Hooft’s design processes, representation is

another layer to the work as a new translation directed by the chosen

medium. Would stricter pursuite of the process of perspective,

rearrangement and scenario give more coherence?

To test the possibility of a design process where the forms of design

derive more directly from an analysis, I initiated a workshop at the

Utrecht School of the Arts. The workshop, called ‘Fullness’, intended

to explore to what extent it would be possible to make a design based

directly on the analysis of the context•. To begin, students were trained

in how to handle data in a complex design context by mapping

the appearance from different perspectives. Next they were asked

to design a staircase in a particular classroom. As an investigation,

they made a model of the existing design context taken from

a particular perspective. Crucial at this point was that the entire

phenomenon was taken into account from a specific perspective.

If the perspective was, for example ‘frames’, then all phenomena

were assessed on their framing quality. In this way, the mapping

of the design context revealed hidden qualities, and students were

amazed to see the diversity of models produced by one and the

same existing design context. After the distinctive interpretation

of the reality of the space, the design was simply a continuation

of the chosen visual means used in the mapping.

How can this study be significant for the development of a theoretical

discourse? Two phenomena are striking: mapping of data is an

•workshop, “fullness”.

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

25

illustration of a mental attitude as such; and interpretation is clearly

evident in the design outcome. An academic case bears the advantage

of simplification. In such an assignment, aspects can be neglected

although they are inescapable in reality. The challenge of the application

of a ‘mapped design process’ would be to investigate the possibility of

preserving a selected perspective in the final interpretation.

Would such a ‘mapped design process’ more easily generate a

theoretical discourse and a research attitude? That is tempting

to assume. The design result is directly based on the interpretation

of the context, and the analysis is mapped in a communicative and

intelligent visual. However, the production of a theoretical discourse

in the field of interior design depends on a variety of factors whereas

the daily practice of interior design does not necessarily feel the

urge to partake in it. Yet, notions such as perspective, rearrangement

and scenario offer at least a toolkit for the start of both a research

attitude and an theoretical discourse based on forms of analysis.

c o n c l u s i o n

In an exploration of current positions in interior design, I have tracked

various contexts, developments and influences that could affect the

production of a theoretical discourse in interior design. Generally

speaking, a theoretical discourse in interior design and a related

research-based attitude are badly articulated, although the desire

to be part of them is widely expressed. In this study, I came across

a number of viewpoints, each with its own background, interest

and validity. Let us summarize them and see how they could produce

a sound conclusion with a future vision for interior design and theory.

From a purely theoretical viewpoint, there is a wish to arrive at an

investigation of the history of interior design. A categorization could

serve to produce a vocabulary in generally valid terms, strengthening

the profession and signifying its specific qualities. This wish, however,

seems to be based on a modernist understanding of the practice of

interior design, where reflection can only lead to a body of theory

initiating good practice. In particular, architecture manuals, with

their typologies and standardized measures, have served as a toolkit

for modernist design. Interior design did not generate a similar

theory, perhaps due to its wish to operate in a more human or artistic

mode. Now that design practice is no longer oriented towards preset

ideals, recapturing such a theory seems quite outdated.

How then could a ‘body of theory’ and a related theoretical

discourse be created? Topical theoretical texts on interior design

could be selected and interrelate to one another. The reader

Intimus mentioned above is an example of this. Two factors make

such an endeavor difficult. There is hardly a heritage of manifestos

or reflections by interior designers and the textual sources of

inspiration are very disparate. So far, no editor has had sufficient

authority to launch a general accepted reader on a theoretical

discourse in interior design. Well - known architects or interior

designers such as Rem Koolhaa or John Pawson, took a better

chance in composing an inspirational book with a selection of

texts and images.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

26

The relation of practice and theory has radically changed

under the influence of the postmodern. As mentioned above,

the modernist design process was based on standards and ideals.

Therefore, theory could play an initiating role by describing

cases and distilling values to help design the ultimate form.

Research consisted of investigation and abstraction, implying

notions such as contradiction, categorization, and composition.

Theory was clearly distinct from practice and was celebrated wit

a scientific authority to be applied in practice.

Postmodern theory did not seek to articulate the absolute but

introduced a multi-perspective approach to theory. Research

transformed into an ongoing reflection aiming to reveal a variety

of understandings in different design contexts. Consequently, the

results are not ending in a proclamation of certainties, but continue

to generate a discourse of complex reflection.

In The Ref lective Practitioner, Donald Schön argues that the

professional practitioner continuously reflects in action. “The unique

and uncertain situation becomes understandable in the attempt to

change it and changes in the attempt to understand it,” he reports on

the mutual interaction between insight and change or, perhaps better

put, between reflection and creation ( Schön 1983 ). A new insight

changes the perception of the design context, and a manipulation

of the design context reveals a new insight. The goal is neither

the insight nor the change, but to keep the process of creation and

reflection going. Here the potency of the designer as researcher

becomes evident.

The topical design process is conducted in a variety of ways, each

providing another scenario for generating theory. However, it should

be noted that the fluid pragmatic characteristics of the attitude runs

the risk of becoming nihilistic. When the ideal is dismissed and

the socio - economic objectives are taken for granted, no goal is left

but efficiency. The case of the interior facilitator illustrates how such

a practice lacks development and significance. The only theory that

probably could be distilled from this is on applied management.

The most exposed strategy for affecting theory by interconnecting

creation and reflection is found in product - based interior design.

The reflection in action here has led to a design process in which

a variety of perspectives are fully embraced and the mapping of

the design context leads to rearrangements that reveal new insights.

In the best cases, the work itself functions as a signifier, and suggests

that creation and reflection are enveloped in the final piece of design.

A substantial amount of design has proven so provocative that reports

and theoretical reviews offered it a position occasionally equated

with the critical, challenging qualities of fine art.

The design processes of Verkerk and Hooft may likewise be described

as reflection in action. Their design proposals are suggested as

hypotheses to check the consequences. The difference between

the two designers only lies in the way of communication with the

client. Verkerk continues the cycle of acting and checking internally

and presents that as an “optimum” to the client; while Hooft is

playfully checking the crucial points along the process of reflection

in action.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

27

The problem in generating a theoretical discourse out of the delivery

derives from the fact that the analysis is not mapped exclusively and

the reflections are not reported. In daily practice there seems to be

no necessity to do so. There is no lively discourse on new approaches,

and forms of representation are merely occasional initiatives from

the designers. Verkerk published some of his researches; Hooft surveys

his ideas in installations or one - offs.

Innovative use of mapping media, like that exposed in the ‘fullness’

workshop, could be one tool to help visualize the interpretations

of the design context, and so provoke a discussion that positions

a variety of viewpoints. Theory would then provide us with positions

to enable an underpinning navigational direction and so contribute

to the development of the profession.

In a theoretical review of the attitude of topical interior designers, it

appears possible to abstract notions such as perspective, rearrangement

and scenarios as a toolkit for analysis and the start of a theoretical

discourse. Thus, any attempts to distill a theory out of design work

would be to discover design attitudes and elaborate on what significance

that attitude might have in certain contexts. Reflection on just the

design outcome will inevitably lead to new interpretation, interesting

in itself but with uncertain feed back for the theory of interior design.

The wish for a theoretical discourse and a research-based attitude

in interior design stems from different motivations. Theory once

was part of the feedback loop with the practice of design, but never

matured in interior design. Now that the process of design has been

transformed and forms of artistic research have emerged in the

theoretical domain, the relation of theory and practice has altered.

For textual theorists, the challenge would be to elaborate on attitudes

of designers and introduce tempting significations to stimulate

the discourse. For designers, there is an opportunity to strengthen

their work with a discernible interpretation of the context,

and to create a theory in visuals.

s o u r c e s

Van Aller, Annelies

personal conversat ion

Utrecht ( 2003 )

De Bont, Marcel

unpublished inter view

Amersfoort ( 2008 )

www.huisvesting.nl

Boonzaaijer, Karel

personal conversat ion

Zeist ( 1985 )

Castells, Manuel

T he Rise of the Network Soc ie t y, T he Information A ge:

Economy, Soc ie t y and Culture Vol . I

Oxford: Blackwell Publishers ( 2000 ).

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

28

Coming Soon Arnhem;

www.comingsoonarnhem.nl

www.landstradevries.nl

www.eventarchitectuur.nl/wordpress/?p=38

Hasanzadeh, Lisa

unpublished presentat ion

Amsterdam ( 2008 )

www.concreteamsterdam.nl

Hooft, Ronald


Amsterdam ( 2008 )

www.pratshooft.nl

Rodermond, Janny

de Architec t 2002/8, “An Argument for More

Disc ipline-Related Information”.

Schön, Donald A.

T he Ref l ec t ive Prac t it ioner, How Profess ionals

T hink in Ac t ion

New York: Basic Books ( 1983 ).

Spanjaard, Kees


Amsterdam (2007)

Taylor, Mark and Julieanna Preston

Intimus Inter ior Design T heor y Reader

Oxford: Blackwell Publishers ( 2006 ).

Verkerk, Herman


Amsterdam ( 2008 )

www.eventarchitecture.nl

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

29

a n d r e a s gero l em ou

c reative casts

i n t r o d u c t i o n

What is divination? It is the art or act of foretelling future events

or revealing secret knowledge ( sometimes supernatural ) by means

of augury or a supernatural medium. You could also regard it

as an inspired guess or premonition. The traditional definition

of divination encompasses its facts as well as the social and

psychological implications and influences. One should not confuse

divination with fortunetelling; where divination is based on rituals

and has a social effect, fortunetelling serves the individual for his

or her personal purposes.

Divination is still in use today among many African countries if

not all. There is no culture that does not contain one form of

a divining system or another. Many people speak of divination

as a superstition, and it is through this superstition that divination

holds some credibility. The local African people have built their

lives on foundations of a faith, but where we as westerners might

call it superstition, they call it traditional healing. An African diviner,

or Sangoma, is successful because of his understanding of the minds

of his people. The success is mainly measured by how effectively the

diviner can solve cultural, social, psychological, and physical problems.

To show that the power of divination largely relies on its social influence,

an example is needed. Julian and Tara, a couple from one of

Johannesburg’s residential areas in South Africa, had not had any

break-ins since a Soweto Sangoma “fortified” the perimeter of

their home with protective spirits. In an hour - long daytime ritual,

the medicine man shuffled and danced along the perimeter, chanting

and calling loudly on the spirits to take residence on the couple’s

property and bring all manner of awful misfortune to those who

attempt any mischief.

As much as anything, the Sangoma was preying on the beliefs of

everyone within earshot. He was letting them know that spirits were

now resident on Julian and Tara’s border and would be unsparing in

the way they dealt with trespassers. This is not to say that he did not

actually unleash vengeful spirits from his kudu skin medicine bag.

So the spirits live as surely in the boundary’s shrubs as they do in

the minds of the people in the area. Either will do.

This example shows how important the social influence is in

the treatment of a problem through the use of African divination.

It is based on the belief that power resides in spells and medicines

that can be used by humans to control their environment. As South

African social anthropologist David Hammond - Tooke points out,

Magic in itself is morally neutral and its nature depends upon

its use.”

t h e a p p r e n t i c e

As an apprentice to a Sangoma, a young person would begin

by inheriting knowledge about his culture, his traditions,

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

30

his environment and his people. Learning about the myths,

history and traditions of his people give a good foundation for

an apprentice. Even though some knowledge might be outdate

in comparison to the western belief system, it is important

for the apprentice to know all the intricacies about his people.

Social, traditional symbols and metaphors need to be learnt

and play an important role in the process of traditional healing

and divination, and allow for deeper connections to the people

and their psyches. This knowledge plays an important role for

the Sangoma when treating problems and provides understanding

on how his people think. Another important aspect in an apprentice’s

learning period is the collection of and the building of relationships

to his divinatory tools.

These tools are objects that consist of bones, stones, sticks, shells

and other such paraphernalia. The process of collection takes years

and is a long process of building relationships with each object.

Each object in the collection represents some aspect of society

and life. Table 1• shows a few Zulu divinatory meanings and some

of the items that represent them. Throughout Africa, Sangomas

use certain objects that are standard and represent the same thing

throughout different tribes. They also use objects that are unique

and personal and are found by the individuals themselves.

Starting off with an object, the Sangoma would need to build

a relationship with it, and that is done through meditation.

By holding the object in his hands and at the same time recalling

all his knowledge, personal experiences and memory about the

aspect the object represents, he in a way embeds the information

into the object through touch and thought. After hours, days

and even weeks of building a stronger relationship with the object,

he is then ready to move on to the next object. After years of collecting

objects and building up a collection, the young Sangom is now ready

to start practicing on his own.

By understanding the social dynamics, we can put the superstition

and fantasy aside for one moment and look solely at the process,

at the system. If I simplified divination, it would go like this:

a question is asked, and by using a group of symbols, an answer

is formulated through interpretation. The question can be anything,

anything relevant to the problem at hand, like career choices,

illnesses and relationship problems. By using symbolic objects

through the system, probable answers are generated. Each individual

object is a key that helps the Sangoma remember an aspect of

society; like love, money, masculinity and fear. When these objects

are thrown down, they fall randomly to the floor. The Sangoma

would then interpret the objects according to their position and

topography in relation to each other. The answer is an interpretation

by the Sangoma in reference to the question asked. The random

arrangement of symbolic objects, followed by an interpretation

of the physical and symbolic relationships between these objects,

forms the basic rule of many divinatory tools. The information that

is useful to us through divination is embedded in our nonconscious

and in the complicacies of relationships between the various aspects,

people and items that make up our lives. This information in our

•table 1: symbolic objects used in african divination.

m e a n i n g

w e a lt h

l u c k

l o s s e s ,d e at h

s e c r e t s , s a c r e d

k n o w l e d g e , s t r e n g t h

f a m i ly,l i f e

k i n d n e s s

l e a d e r s h i p

t i m e ,c h a n g e s ,l i f e

w i s d o m , d e c i s i o n s

o b s ta c l e s , i l l n e s s e s

i m m o r ta l i t y, r e b i r t h

Tur t le shel ls, sea shel ls, monkey bones, sea urchin

spines, dog bones, hyena bones, crocodi le bones,

ant bear bones.

Abalone shel ls, leopard bones or teeth, nut shel ls,

sea shel lsbones, hyena bones, crocodi le bones,

ant bear bones.

Hoof t ips, abalone shel ls, leopard bones or teeth,

nut shel ls, tur t le shel ls, cat t le bones or teeth.

Symbolic objects used

Tur t le bones or broken shel ls, spiders, monkey

bones, nut shel ls, duiker bones, ant bear bones.

Tur t le shel ls, l ion bones or teeth, nut shel ls.

Sea urchin spines, cow teeth, nut shel ls,

baboon bones.

Spr ingbok bones, nut shel ls.

L ion bones or teeth, leopard bones or teeth.

Spr ingbok bones, monkey bones, leopard bones,

spiral sea shel ls, duiker bones.

Cowrie Shel ls

T iger ’s Eye Gemstones

Snake skin or bones.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

31

nonconscious is illusive yet divination allows us to access it.

In order to improve our understanding of information we need to

categorize it a bit better. Ludwig Boltzmann was an Austrian physicist

and he had a rather simple idea; he distinguished between what are

known as macrostates and microstates. In physics, macrostates are

such things as temperature, pressure and volume. Macrostates could

be seen as primary objects or concepts that can be broken down into

many smaller independent fragments. Microstates consist of accurate

descriptions of the behavior of each of these individual fragments.

Alone, microstates do not play important roles in the understanding

of the bigger picture; it is the combination of microstates that give

understanding and insight. Macrostates and microstates can be

related to information.

e x f o r m at i o n e x c h a n g e

In everyday life, we could consider information as a summary

of an experience. We recount the macrostates of our lives, never

the individual microstates that make up the experience.

The microstates have been discarded leaving behind what we

consider information. There is however more potential information

in a microstate than in a macrostate. If we were to converse

the intricate little details that re-volve around the mediocre events

that make up our daily lives, we would not have enough time to reach

the petty events themselves though, so we summarize. Not that the

details are not important or that we don’t pay attention to them

we most certainly do ), it’s just that they play a more important role

to our nonconscious than to our conscious minds.

Exformation is a term coined by Danish physicist Tor Nørretranders.

Exformation is everything we have in our heads but do not actually

say out loud. As an example, if I were to talk about sheep, it would

only be intelligible for the other person if they had a prior idea of

what sheep are, their behavior and their purpose. This knowledge

might be expected due to the very important part sheep have played

in our history and culture.

One cannot measure the exformation of a statement because it

all depends on an individual’s prior knowledge of the subject.

But information can be measured, because it is so compact and

fits into one sentence: “Humans can be sheep sometimes.”

This sentence is a macrostate and a metaphor and compares

human behavior to the behavior of sheep. Sheep are gregarious,

thus very social and enjoy the company of their own kind.

They also travel together and are usually led by one individual

to the chosen destination of that individual. Microstates like these

play important roles in the understanding of the macrostate.

Therefore by saying that humans can be sheep sometimes,

the statement identifies the times when humans flock together,

follow and do not act independently as their free will permits.

The knowledge about sheep, as in this example, not only covers

the scientific and behavioral facts that an individual might know

about sheep, but also any personal experience he or she might have.

All the intricate knowledge that the individual might have collected

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

32

throughout life, whether valuable to this macrostate or not,

could act as exformation.

Traditional healers, like Sangomas, rely on the exformation that

is buried within their minds. Their experiences and their prior

knowledge about multiple facets of life build up their divining

vocabulary. This divining vocabulary is made available to the

Sangoma through his divinatory tools. The bones, sticks, shells

and other objects allow for the Sangoma to extract the already

available exformation in the nonconscious and to articulate it

in a more condensed way, as information, through a casting.

m i c r o - m a c r o s t a t e s Symbols could be seen as macrostates. A single item, representing

a greater amount of information, or better said exformation.

Without the knowledge behind the symbol, the reference would

not exist. This knowledge however is not conjured out of thin air,

it is taught. We learn to read signs.

In divinatory methods such as African bone-throwing, tarot readings,

or tea-leaf readings, the external symbols ( the bones, the cards,

the leaf markings ) represent states in society that we understand

and experience in our everyday lives; emotions, people and other

influences and behaviors.

To become a diviner you would begin by building up symbolic

references. Each object would entail a new-found relationship

between you and the exformation it embodies. The process would

demand conscious acknowledgement of nonconscious exformation.

For example, for a Sangoma, a cowrie shell could represent time.

Time has played a very important role in our lives and our personal

experiences of time till today, built up our knowledge and our

understanding of it through our memories. After embedding

the knowledge into the shell it becomes a symbol of every single

experience, all your knowledge and all your intuitive understanding

of time. When you come across this glossy shell in a casting, a mass

of exformation is implied through it.

The relationship the apprentice would need to establish with

a cowrie shell would be interrelated to that society. Representations

and interpretations of the shell change with every reading or cast.

Each object in a cast stands alone in its meaning, and more

importantly, forms a symbiotic relationship with the other

objects around it.

So we could say that the combination of a certain number

of macrostates, represented in this case as the symbolic objects

of a Sangoma, together with the problem that is to be solved,

form an arena for the Sangoma to invent solutions that might

not have been recognized before.

s e c r e t u s e r s

The dead were often treated as though they were still alive ( being

seated on chairs, dressed in clothing, and even fed food ); dead

bodies were presumed to be still living and the source of auditory

hallucinations. Jaynes argues that divination, prayer and oracles

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

33

developed when consciousness took over and when the “voices

of the gods” died with bicameralism during the second millennium

BC. Diviners like the Sangomas and religions like Christianity can

be seen to have replaced the loss of the bicameral mind and have been

a part of our societies until today.

Divinatory systems have survived these thousands of years just

like our modern day religions have. And just like our religions

the divinatory systems aim at offering a renewed connection from

man to divine being. We could therefore see that consciousness

and divination run hand in hand, and until traces of bicameralism

are utterly eradicated from our minds, the latter will still exist in our

societies; if not as a central pivot, then as something that will always

seem intriguing to us.

c o n s c i o u s n e s s You may now ask what consciousness really is. If I were to try

and define consciousness I would like to start by saying what it is

not. Consciousness is not perception, it is not cognition, and it is

not knowledge. Consciousness could be defined as an awareness of

self. Jaynes gave us a great definition of it: “Consciousness is a much

smaller part of our mental life than we are conscious of, because

we cannot be conscious of what we are not conscious of. How simple

that is to say; how difficult to appreciate! It is like asking a flashlight

in a dark room to search around for something that does not have any

light shining upon it. The flashlight, since there is light in whatever

direction it turns, would have to conclude that there is light everywhere.

And so consciousness can seem to pervade all mentality when actually

it does not.” ( Julian Jaynes, The Origin of Consciousness in the

Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind ).

According to Tor Nørretranders our conscious minds only process up

to forty ( 40 ) bits per second, where as our nonconscious minds can

process up to eleven million ( 11,000,000 ) bits per second.

This shouldn’t worry us because both the conscious and the

nonconscious minds both play important roles. Our nonconscious

minds handle all the microstates that enter through our senses.

These details are often too overwhelming and do not necessarily

play such an important part individually, like all microstates,

but form part of the macrostates that our conscious minds use

to communicate. Macrostates require far fewer bits per second

to be transmitted, compared to microstates. On the right are some

example activities and their required conscious bandwidth.•

Our senses are directly linked to our nonconscious. Incoming information

microstates ) from our senses is matched with data in our memories,

and undergoes a process before it is relayed to our consciousness in

order to be articulated ( as macrostates ). Very little of the original

sense remains and is present in the resulting action of consciousness.

Because the nonconscious processes, filters and summarizes

the incoming exformation, the original input is lost and we cannot

truly experience it firsthand; we only experience the condensed

macrostate as information. The exformation, although it may sound

passive, does actively influence our behavior; but we do not always

have control over how it does that.

•measuring conscious bandwidth

(

a c t i v i t y / m a c r o s tat e

s i l e n t r e a d i n g

r e a d i n g a l o u d 3 0

Bits/Sec

t y p e w r i t i n g

p i a n o p l ay i n g

m u lt i p ly i n g a n d

a d d i n g t w o n u m b e r s

c o u n t i n g o b j e c t s

12

2 3

16

3

4 5

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

34

The nonconscious works primarily on the principle of association.

Like the Memory Card game ( having microstates acting as the cards ),

the nonconscious associates related and similar subjects. But unlike

the memory card game, it can also associate seemingly unrelated

subjects that do not normally occur together. Because in this case,

exformation chiefly belongs to the nonconscious, information

to the conscious. Due to the nonconscious power of unrelated

association, our ability to create metaphors and symbols arises.

So we see that our nonconscious is a well of exformation waiting

to inform.

It would be great if we could easily access what is in our nonconscious

minds but unfortunately we cannot. Divination, however, could

allow us to improve the relationship between the conscious and

the nonconscious in order to access this exformation and to articulate

it consciously as information.

r e m o v i n g t h e m a s k

Spirituality and rituals form a foundation for African divination.

A Sangoma’s work is effective through ceremonial events and

beliefs of certain types of magic. Magic possesses two contrasting

components: white magic and black magic. White magic would

generally involve rituals that are open to the society and they are

usually practiced by Sangomas, where as black magic is secretive

and usually used against the good of the society. Witchcraft and

sorcery are two types of black magic that are practiced in Africa.

In Africa witchcraft forms a fundamental part of most people’s

thinking about illnesses and misfortune. For the Sangoma it

is imperative to have a thorough understanding of the people

who hold such beliefs. There is a very close resemblance between

the foundations of witchcraft and western religions; magic and faith.

Both have provided for secular and social stability.

The belief in witchcraft arose from the people’s need to find

a cause for their misfortunes. Sangomas, apart from healing these

misfortunes caused by malevolent witchcraft ( hence witchdoctor ),

have additional technical and social skills. Sangomas are involved

in exploring the supernatural and in making the unknown accessible

to everyday life; we thus call them diviners.

Whether or not he or she is involved in healing, a diviner’s prime

function is to grasp consciously, and to bring out into the open, the

secret and nonconscious motives causing an individual to become ill,

or to create a social disturbance. Diviners are in fact the psychologists,

psychiatrists, physicians, priests, confessors, councilors, and

historians of their people. All these functions are brought together

to form a highly effective institution that depends greatly on social

consensus. To be valuable in an individual situation, or valid in

a social context, a diviner and a technique of divination need only

have dramatic truth.

Mystery is the catalyst for imagination”, words of wisdom by

J.J. Abrams from his ted presentation in March 2007, entitled

Mystery Box. Mystery is when something is not fully comprehended,

when it confuses and evades understanding. In order to fully

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

35

understand the effects of mystery, one can define transparency.

Transparency occurs when there is no distortion between what

is conveyed and what is witnessed. When transparency is achieved

in the present, an unambiguous future can be predicted. Transparency

allows for the witness to control the next step. By having this

knowledge, the witness is confident in making any decisions that

might change the situation’s known outcome. Transparency provides

a calm and predictable situation that is powered by the knowledge

currently at hand. Transparency satisfies when the situation at hand

is familiar and does not need improvement. But transparency can

sometimes lead to stagnation; leaving the witness wondering “If it

ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” One thing that does challenge transparency,

that lures us into a creative state of mind and that unclenches our

brain, is mystery.

By offering suspense, intrigue, curiosity, and a little bit of fear, African

divination has managed to push the boundaries of the fantastical

and yet stay practical. Apart from the superstition, the tradition,

the psychology and the mystery behind it, African divination has

an underlying system that is common to all form of divination.

The system is comprised of symbolic objects and their interpreter.

Through this system, the diviner is relieved of the burden of

remembering all the possible dynamic outcomes of a situation.

Once uncertainty enters our lives through problems at home or at work,

an opportunity to harness the mystery behind the uncertainty enters

too. Solutions could be hidden between the bits and pieces that make

up our problems. In light of Part 2: Exformation Engine; bits and pieces

represent microstates that generate macrostates. The details of our

microstates are, however, hidden in our nonconscious minds.

In order to access the exformation that lies in our nonconscious,

one must possess the skill to hover between a conscious and a

nonconscious state of mind. Liminality is one such skill that blurs

the boundary zone between two established spatial areas Ethnographer

and folklorist Arnold van Gennep described the phases of liminality

in his book The Rites of Passage; by reaching a liminal state of

consciousness, where one would be on the border of the nonconscious

and the conscious spatial areas, one would have access to all the

exformation and microstates of the nonconscious and also be able

to consciously contextualize to form informative macrostates.

Diviners have this ability and can reach a state of liminality through

trances induced with the possible help of herbs and medicines.

A diviner’s importance is partially based on his or her experience

in dealing with the different states in a trance. They have the experience

and the skills to understand and interpret.

Chance plays a very important role in divination. Each reading

or cast opens up countless probabilities of interpretation When

dealing with chance, one will inevitably come across randomness.

Randomness is when something occurs without an identifiable

pattern, and alone simply represents unintelligible confusion.

But when randomness is introduced in combination with an

established pattern, change is made possible.

Our nonconscious cannot be categorized and is like a messy

basement filled with all the microstates learnt throughout life,

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

36

yet thanks to Julian Jaynes’ definition of consciousness in his

metaphor The Flashlight ( Part 3: Secret User ), we can paint a clearer

picture for ourselves. If we were to use our flashlights to see into our

messy basements, it will seem that we “permeate” the basement

and its contents. But because we will look for answers in a structured,

conscious and logical way, we will not be able to find creative

solutions; we will be limited to the micro - states that reflect the

predictable patterns of our consciousness. Therefore divination offers

an established pattern ( the system, symbols as objects, randomness )

that is flexible enough to encourage innovative possibilities

personal interpretations through experience ), derived from

an elusive nonconscious.

c r e at i v e c a s t

Instinct lies at the most basic programmed level of our nonconscious

mind and cannot be removed. It is based in our nonconscious

and never surfaces in our conscious minds. However, its results

and effects can be acknowledged by our conscious minds.

Instinctual behavior is shaped by biological necessities such

as survival and reproduction; it is immediate and requires no

conscious thought to work. This is proof that our senses are directly

connected to our nonconscious and that not all microstates need

be attached to macrostates. Because instinct remains among

microstates, it does not surface to the conscious mind to be uttered

as a macrostate before it kicks in.

One step up and we find the level of intuition. Intuition is defined

as awareness without logical thought. When an outcome that helps

us grasp the hidden nature of things arises, that’s when you know

intuition has occurred. Though instinct tells us to run, intuition

guides us in which direction.

In her book Natural - Born Intuition, Dr Lauren Thibodeau introduces

intuition as a sixth sense appended to our already existing five:

sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell. Her definition of intuition

is a combination of the five senses and also incorporates each person’s

unique life experiences and values.

In Thibodeau’s book, intuition is interpreted more as a verb than

as a noun. Intuition can be compared to knowledge; whereas

knowledge, or cognition, is the general awareness of information,

facts, ideas, truths and principles; it is also an external entity

and many people can share this awareness. It is through logic

that knowledge is valid and its purpose is to be available to everyone.

Intuition on the other hand is defined as being based in the present

and by being internal, personal and subjective. Like a lot of left - right

brain associations, knowledge could represent the left half of the

brain and intuition, the right half.

In the process of relationship - building performed by Sangomas

in African divination, both the worlds of intuition and knowledge

are used. The earthly world of the physical item, to which

the relationship is being built, is linked to earthly experiences,

the logical understanding of how things work and the direct physical

attributes the object and its symbol possess. The earthly world

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

37

of the item and its symbol is available to all Sangomas. The unseen

world of the object is intricately linked to, and only to, the Sangoma

as an individual. The personal experiences, the feelings attached

to them and the intuitive understanding of the item cannot be shared

by the many that practice African divination. It all happens in the mind

and soul of the diviner; all that happens in the unseen world of the

diviner is linked to his/her intuition.

Intuition is just as complex ( if not more ) than the logical mind.

Intuition can be broken up into four categories: visual, auditory,

sensory and gut/body - based intuition. We all utilize a certain

percentage of each category, but visual intuition, however, is used

the most.

d i v i n e i n t u i t i o n The visual, today, plays a very important role in our decision - making.

We design logos, posters, adverts, clothing, homes ( interior and

exterior ), products and technology all on how we perceive them,

how they visually trigger a response. How things ‘look’ is such

a big process in our minds that it affects almost everything in

our lives, from food to religion.

Visual input has played an important role in society throughout

history. Even in prehistoric rock art found in Africa, pigments from

stones and plants were used to communicate. African tribes paint

their homes in vivid colors; their clothes are covered in multicolored

beads; every aspect of their lives is garnished with stimulating visual

characteristics. We could take a look at our everyday language and

see that we often refer to color in our speech to describe moods and

emotions. We say, “he was green with envy”, “you look blue today”,

purple with passion”. We also use visual references in our speech such

as “I wish I’d seen that coming” or “I see what you mean”.

If we were to pay attention and notice how many times we use visual

references in our speech, we would be amazed how important

the visual is.

As you can imagine, there are so many symbols in our world today;

not only visual, but also linked to our other senses. Symbols are not

only the symbols we know like the cross, the horse shoe, the book,

the shopping cart or the broken wine glass on the side of a cardboard

box. Symbols can also be personal references to events that we have

experienced in our childhood and throughout our lives.

Take the jasmine shrub for example; it is not a symbol known to many,

representing one thing. The jasmine shrub could represent something

specific to me though; it could remind me of my grandmother.

It could symbolize the green fingers she has, the nourishing,

the motherly nature, the patience and concern she showed when

she cared for her flowers ( and in turn her grandchildren ).

The jasmine shrub is a symbol that visually and olfactorily triggers

feelings that are personal to me. These feelings, irrelevant of

the fact that I am in tune with my emotions at the time, will arise,

influencing what I have on my mind at that moment and the actions

that will follow. These feelings form a part of my intuition.

The fact that I acknowledge the symbol consciously means that

I can also document it and keep a track of it for future references.

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

38

There are many personal symbols in our everyday lives. Some we

do not consciously realize when we experience, but still play an

important role in our intuition. By documenting these symbols,

we are able to build up our own personal dictionary of symbolic

meanings.

As adults we tend to mask our intuitive senses. The overwhelming

incoming stimuli, the mounting duties, and bombarding stresses

build up to form a massive pillow that smothers any intuitive sense.

Headaches, butterflies in the stomach and backaches are some ways

the body uses to communicate to our conscious minds. We often have

the motto “no pain, no gain” and confuse intuitive messages with

fatigue, bad eating patterns or a bad mattress. In fact, the physical

effects of stress are signs from the body telling us that we are

overdoing it.

Intuition represents the bridge between our nonconscious and our

conscious minds. Through the different kinds of intuition, whether

it be visual or gut/body - based, our nonconscious mind reaches out

to communicate. Sometimes logic can be deceiving. Sometimes

the routine of daily life makes us stagnant. Information and guidance

is not always external and sometimes external guidance and influence

can be misleading. Intuition is the nonconscious’ voice and it speaks

through our intuitive senses.

By removing the mask of divination, an intricate system between

symbols and interpretation is revealed. For this system to be effective,

the users need to be open to it. Divination cannot be mastered if

it is approached by sheer logic and constructive association.

Only by allowing intuition to bridge our conscious and our

non - conscious minds, can we truly harness what divination

has to offer.

a c c e s s i n g c r e a t i v i t y Creativity is something often associated to the design field. But what

is it exactly? There are roughly one hundred scientific definitions

of creativity; therefore it is not difficult to claim that creativity is

a puzzle, a paradox and shrouded in mystery. Many people conjure

up creativity without a conscious understanding of how it came to be.

In the dictionary definition of creation, to bring into being or form

out of nothing, creativity seems to be not only beyond any scientific

understanding, but even impossible. It is hardly surprising, then,

that some people have explained it in terms of divine inspiration,

intuition, or insight. If we look a few paragraphs back, intuition

is defined as communication from the nonconscious to the conscious

mind. If we were to allow creativity to possess this definition for

a while, it might help us understand it better.

The new definition of creativity would sound like this: Creativity

is a method of communication used by the nonconscious mind

to guide our conscious mind into making decisions.

Maybe not all decisions, but in light of this new definition, creativity has

now become something internal. If we were to approach creativity from

this perspective, then every one of us has the potential to be creative.

We all have a friend that we could consider creative. We might

sometimes consider ourselves to be creative. This creativity flourishes

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

39

when there is usually little or no influence by logic and deliberation.

By becoming child-like; idealistic and experimental, we discard

the habitual manner with which we often deal with problems.

Issues no longer need to be solved traditionally. We borrow ideas

from one context and project them onto new circumstances without

realizing that we have been creative until we take a step back.

There is no doubt that at some point at work or in our daily lives,

creativity has sprung up to surprise us. We need to understand

that creativity is not a talent; it does not materialize if or when

we get inspired. Creativity is a skill. It can be learnt and developed.

There is however some confusion about creativity. A creative solution

needs to have value, it needs to be credible. To reach a creative

solution, there also needs to be a creative process. During this process

of challenging the old, combining the known and experimenting

with new, there is a slight chance that we might not succeed in

developing something truly creative. But this should not discourage

us and we should not name these hiccups as mistakes or errors,

but as experiences. The search for something inventive is a journey

that requires full participation.

Divination is one method that encourages the development of creativity.

It is a tool that challenges our logic. If we were to approach problems

using our regular logical thinking, we will only reach solutions that

make sense to us. And so, by looking within and trusting intuition,

quantum leaps of creativity will be achieved, in turn breaking the linear

functionings of consciousness.

s o u r c e s

Arnold van Gennep

T he Rites of Passage

London: Routledge ( 2004 ).

David Hammond-Tooke

T he Bantu- speaking Peoples of Southern Af r ica

London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, ( 1974 ).

Edward de Bono

How To Have Creat ive Ideas

London: Vermillion ( 2007 ).

Edward de Bono

Lateral T hinking

London: Penguin ( 1970 ).

Julian Jaynes

T he Or ig in of Consc iousness in the Breakdown

of the Bicameral Mind

New York: Houghton Mifflin Company ( 1976 ).

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

40

Lauren Thibodeau

Natural-Born Intuit ion

Franklin Lakes: Career Press ( 2005 ).

Lyall Watson

Lightning Bird

London: Hodder and Stoughton ( 1982 ).

Philip M. Peek

Afr ican Divination Systems

Bloomington: Indiana University Press ( 1991 ).

Raymond Buckland and Kathleen Binger

T he Book Of Af r ican Divination

Vermont: Destiny Books, Inner Traditions International Ltd ( 1992 ).

Tor Nørretranders

T he User Il lusion

New York: Viking, Penguin Group ( 1991 ).

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

41

i l se beu m er

tr ansferium, a non-pl ac e

t r a n s f e r i u m

Extra North - Holland Transferia for Nineteen Million Kilometer -

Reduction’, was the headline for a 2004 article in Verkeerskunde,

a magazine for public space professionals. The additional transferia

are the result of a successful 1993 pilot developed by the Dutch

Ministry of Transport in cooperation with the Dutch highway service

anwb ) and transport companies at nine locations in the Netherlands.

The purpose of this pilot project was to improve accessibility and

quality of life of cities, a concept that had be attractive to the general

public. Drivers need to be persuaded to park their cars at transferia

and then take public transportation into the city. More wide - scale

use of tranferia would create cities not dedicated to cars. Transferia

could turn that utopia into reality.

The current transferia offer safe, fast and comfortable transfer points

from cars to public transportation, such as the train, subway, tram,

bus, or boat. Safe implies constant video surveillance of cars and people;

fast means well - organized, little wasted time, and frequent and fast

public transport; comfortable refers to covered walkways between the

parking lot and the boarding area, heated waiting rooms with restrooms,

phones and travel information. Usually, transferia have bicycle racks

and a snack kiosk as well. Greater transferia even boast facilities like

tourist information centers and restaurants. Most of the transferia are

on the edge of cities where highways and public transportation meet.

Therefore, transferia could reduce traffic jams and parking issues in

urban areas.

At transferium Ridderkerk, cars can be parked for free. The public

transportation link here is to the Fast Ferry, to downtown Rotterdam

or Dordrecht. The location is suitable for cars coming via highways

A15 and A16. Moreover, the location offers a beautiful view of the

junction between the Noord, Lek and New Maas rivers. The free

parking and the magnificent view are what should attract visitors,

since other facilities are lacking•. Instead, transferium Ridderkerk

•transferium ridderkerk.

(

‘

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

42

looks cheap, grey, and static, thus, it does not meet the transferium

and facilities goal from the 1993 pilot. A design by Zwarts & Jansma

1999 )•, shows how facilities may be fitted into the transferium.

The design looks upgraded and comfortable, but still not very dynamic.

The busy transferium Amsterdam Arena••

stands in immense

contrast to Transferium Ridderkerk with its quietness and simplicity.

Amsterdam Arena transferium has more to offer than parking

underground beneath the field ) and transport connections alone.

A big, commercial boulevard runs through the location and offers

shopping, sports and leisure.•••

Those facilities have fully absorbed

the transferium’s surroundings. Because of the multiple use of space,

the Amsterdam Arena transferium does not seem to have any

boundaries, indicating optimal use of location. In addition, there

are benches, lampposts, bicycle parking, and facilities everywhere.

Does such integration of functions convey the potential value of

transferia? Are they urban junctions? Or are they just isolated islands

in the landscape?

t r a n s f e r i u m a s n o n - p l a c e

In Non - places, Marc Augé states, “If a place can be defined

as relational, historical and concerned with identity, then a space

which cannot be defined as relational, or historical, or concerned

with identity will be a non - place.” ( Augé 1995: 77, 78 ) Augé creates

the concepts of ‘places’ and ‘non - places’. The ‘places’ have an

anthropological connotation; they are social spaces full of monuments

continuing over time and generations, like a historical city center

with its own identity and history.

Augé mentions several examples of non - places: highways, airports,

train stations, hotel chains, amusement parks, supermarkets, and

means of transportation themselves. To that list transferia can be

added.••••

The transferium is a non - place where individuals are

••transferium amsterdam arena

••• amsterdam arena, big commercial boulevard

••• •lef t: transferium barneveld -north middle: transferium leiden ‘t schouw right: park&ride lel ant salting (great britian)

(

•design z warts &jansma(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

43

••• aranda/lasch, 10 - mile spiral, las vegas

( 2004 ).

• teresa sapey, hotel puerta de américa, madrid

( 2005 ).

•• teresa sapey, hotel puerta de américa, madrid ( 2005 ), express the freedom of art.

‘

freed of their identity, their historical and social bonds. The transferium

as non - place creates the “shared identity of passengers, customers,

or Sunday drivers.” ( Augé 1995: 101 ) One could say that the drivers

and travelers of the transferium are lost in a temporary, dynamic flow.

The space of travelers is the archetype of the non-place.

i n f o r m at i o n d e s i g n

Non - places are defined by the use of words and pictures. They form

the manual for these transit places. Augé states, “The link between

individuals and their surroundings in the space of non-place is

established through the mediation of words, or even texts”. ( Augé

1995: 94 ) The information can be provided in different formats, but

mostly it is in the form of signs along the route. There are, however,

topical examples of information absorbed in the design of the location.

The parking garage of the Hotel Puerta de América in Madrid•

designed by Teresa Sapey is such an example. The garage uses

information in the form of icons. These icons, constructed from the

work Liberté by French poet Paul Éluard, tell you where the exit is and

point you in the right direction. Other icons do not give information

about the garage itself, but express the freedom of art.••

The entire

design and text of the symbols shows, as it were, the road to freedom,

drawing a symbolic contrast with the dark underground space.

Another example is the 10 - mile spiral, a concept for Las Vegas by

Aranda/Lasch.•••

With the goal in mind of avoiding traffic jams and

unjamming’ Las Vegas, the architects designed a structure/building

dim no: no = 70

dim arrpoint, n

redim arrline ( no )initial radius

dim radius: radius = 10

create helix

for n = 0 to no step 1arrpoint = array ( radius )*sin( n ),( radius )*cos( n ), n/2 )arrline ( n ) = arrpoint

dim random < .5 then

radius=radius + 1 + ( rnd( ) *1,5 )else

radius = radius + 1 - ( rnd( ) *1.5

end if

nex t

extrude

a structural curb is ex truded to 4.6m to stiffen the ramp.

intersection-load transfer

intersection points bet ween these strips are transfer points through which the structure’s loads are channelled to the grounds.

beams

the structure is optimized to allow views out ot the valley: material is retained in the a xial line of stress and removed where the curb is not doing any structural work.

dirt y’ spiral

an algorithm (see opposite) is employed to derive a helix, whose radio ‘varies’ randomly as it climbs and then falls back down to the valley flo.

‘

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

44

• buschow henley architects, ‘park+jog’, salford ( 1998 ).

•• lef t: transferium hoorn, near to the cit y. right: transferium breukelen.

where the arrival of the drivers is slowed down by their moving in

the spiral. On the spiral lanes, texts from well - known signs along

the Las Vegas roads such as ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’ or ‘Drive Safely’

connect the city to the parking garage users. But that is not the only

form of information the architects have employed in their design.

To give the spiral a symbolic relationship with Las Vegas, the gambling

capital of the world, the architects used images of numbers, colors,

and bank notes on the lanes of the spiral to introduce the ‘slow’

drivers to gambling in Vegas.

Information in words, texts, and images, in the non-place ensure

it becomes part of the rhythm of daily life. Marc Augé states, “Words

and images in transit through non - places can take root in the – still

diverse – places where people still try to construct part of their daily

life.” ( Augé 1995: 109 ) A design by Buschow Henley Architects

illustrates how close daily life and non-place can get.• In their concept

for ‘Park + Jog’, a form of daily life is constructed by using a transfer

point. Through symbols, people are encouraged to park their car at

the end of the highway, then change clothes and jog, swim, walk or

ride to Manchester City. After a hard day of work or classes, people

can jog back, take a refreshing shower at facilities on the roof terrace

of the car park, and drive home.

t r a n s f e r i a l o c at i o n s

While the city plays a prominent role in daily life, transferia and

park&rides seem to be forgotten places. But these places could use

that location between city and highway. The city is like an interior,

where people return through the entrance every time. The entrance

could be a transfer point in the form of a transferium or park&ride,

a link between the city, with its public transportation network,

and suburbia, with its roads for private vehicles.••

The entrance

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

45

•••the pheripherique, parijs.

•• merrit parkway, connecticut usa

(1935- 1940).

•reichsautobahn, neandertal

(1936).

“

“

(

should fit the interior and it should be an invitation to the world.

An entrance between an inner and outer space has two sides, and

can have different views to the inside and outside. The transfer point

is a neutral point on the map with a temporary use. The abstract

character makes it hard to integrate the transferia in their surroundings.

Transferia should absorb the qualities of the entrance/exit to really

function as a dynamic doorway and to give entering and leaving

a flowing shape.

s tat u s a n d a p p e a r a n c e

Transitional places such as highways could be viewed and designed

from different angles. For example, the mid - 20th - century German

Autobahn was intended to be a cultural aesthetic monument, to stir

feelings of national pride in drivers and passengers. The Autobahns

were strongly embedded in the landscape.• Another example is

the parkway, a ‘human’ road as part of nature, supply following

the language of the land.••

“There must be unrestricted freedom

of movement and a pliable traffic flow, which can be maintained

regularly. This flow should be without interruption or collision.”

Nijenhuis & van Winden 2007: 82 ).The lanes offer the driver a

view of the landscape. When speeding along the lanes, new images

are revealed time and again to drivers and passengers. The driver

experiences the spaces of the landscape as an exciting succession

of wide and narrow views,” writes Hans Lorentz in ‘Die Mitarbeit

de lebendigen Natur”. The subtly designed landscape areas guide

the driver and “anticipate a sublime experience without active

interaction of consciousness. The beauty of the road, then, lies in

the rhythm of the change of space and the rhythm becomes a feeling

of tension and release” ( Nijenhuis & van Winden 2007: 134 ).

These roads and highways, however, could not satisfy the rapidly

rising demand of mobility. And as Wilfried van Winden states,

landscapes urbanize and the cities are like parasites on the highway

networks” ( Nijenhuis & van Winden 2007: 83 ).

Today, the highways are no longer part of an aesthetic culture.

This is also true for highway parking spaces and transferia/park

& rides. Why are these dynamic spaces not appreciated? How can

these culturally neglected non-places regain aesthetic qualities?

Wilfried van Winden claims that the Parisian Périphérique could

be considered the contemporary urban highway. It is tempestuous

and dynamic; it could be called the diabolical highway.•••

A design

for a parking lot over the river Seine by the architect Konstantin

S. Melnikov from 1925, never constructed, has both dynamics and

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

46

••• enric batlle, nus de l a trinitat, barcelona

( 1990 ).

••••umberto boccioni, museum of modern art, new york.

“

•• l’espace piranesien, euralille

( 1988 -1991 ).

representation.The dynamic structure of steep slopes and parking

decks offer the motorist a spectacular view of the Seine Melnikov

wanted to please the user with his design.• • kontantin s. melnikov,

car park over the seine

( 1925 ).

Indeed, a spectacular view can be a tool to make a transferium

exciting. oma, however, has employed dramatic techniques

in its L’Espace Piranésien design ( part of the master plan

for Euralille ).•• oma’s challenge was to create a Gordian knot

out of a small junction where metro, train, highway, and sidewalks

intersect. A mixture of ramps, elevators, escalators and railroad tracks

were used to make the Eurostar station as dramatic as possible.

Dramatics are also evident in the aerial photo of the park with pool

and metro station Nus de la Trinitat opened in 1990 in Barcelona and

designed by Enric Batlle.•••

An enormous nexus of roads circumvents

a reasonably small park, which seems to have adjusted itself to its

surroundings. But when one enters the park, the roads are hardly

present and the place makes a silent and monumental impression.

m o b i l i t y a n d s p a c e

The retreat of the dynamic perception made traveling a paradoxical

experience: in the heart of the outer movement one would experience

the absence of the world and a standstill in space. One feels no

distance between departure and arrival” ( Nijenhuis & van Winden

2007: 130 ). “The observation of the surrounding starting from

the movement” ( Nijenhuis & van Winden 2007: 81 ) is, in Nijenhuis’

view, the new ‘artistic vision’ where public space could be involved.

It is a dynamic thought that can be illustrated by Futurism and

its love of speeding cars. The figure right••••

gives an example of

a futuristic image by the artist Umberto Boccioni. The artist did

not seek pure form, but pure pliable rhythm. He constructed the

action of bodies. Such dynamics, translated into architecture,

produces spiral structures instead of static buildings.

A flow of mobility guided by a design of action can be noticed

in the Master plan of Stirling Wilford & Associates ( in association

with Walter Nägeli ) for the Braun headquarters in Melsungen.

The visitor and employees are taken on a journey built out of short

environmental encounters, first as drivers and later as pedestrians.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

47• stirling wilford,

braun head quarter, melsungen

( 1986 -1992 ).

(

•• lef t: a ville contemporaine (1922), right: sant’elia (1914).

••• michael webb, sin centre london, ( 1959 -1962 ).

•••• paul andreu, airport roissy-charles de gaulle

( 1959 -1962 ).

At the entrance, the road follows a canal around a lake. After a viaduct

and a pass - through an opening in a heavy concrete wall, the formal

landscape abruptly transforms into an informal one with industrial

buildings. Once in the parking garage, a spiral brings the motorist

from deck to deck. When leaving the parking garage on foot one is

led to a destination via dramatic bridges and staircases. The parking

building and the landscape are indissolubly linked and the mobility/

action experience creates surprised motorists. Simon Henley says

about this plan, “Pleasure comes from the devices employed to move

cars and people through the section, from the light, and from the

intimate encounters that particular situations afford.”

Henley 2007: 81 )•

A transferium is part of the dynamic world of mobility. Also Sain’Elia

Città Nuova 1914, and Le Corbusier••( La ville contemporaine 1922, )

used a hybrid form of mobility to reach their goal of “absorbing the

dynamic world of mobility into the static world of the city.” Sin Centre

1959 - 62 )•••

by the English architect Michael Webb is another hybrid

design, where both vehicle and pedestrian are incorporated into a

circulating, mobile system ensuring that the large flow of people is

easily guided through different spaces. In the Roissy - Charles airport

of the architect Paul Andreu, different worlds of mobility remain

separated.••••

The architectonic layer encompasses the whole.

f u n c t i o n o r f o r m

Hybrid designs for transferia combine different means of transportation,

while employing diagrams and structures, often three - dimensionally

translated. The above-mentioned Aranda/Laschs 10 - mile spiral

is a complex design for a parking solution combined with a road

originating from a “dirty” spiral flowing from algorithms

a mathematical approach to achieve a architectonic solution ).

(

(

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

48

• z aha hadid architects, park+ride hoenheim-north, strasbourg

( 1998 -2001 ).

–

The dirty spiral has undergone several metamorphoses and has

become a structure of its own, more a dynamic building than

an infrastructure. “What makes the multi-store car park recognizable

is it the function or the form?” asks Simon Henley ( Henley 2007: 207 ) .

The function of a transfer point in a transferium is clearly determined

by the governmental rules and has to meet requirements on functional

levels as well. But the shape is free of restrictions. What is this shape?

How can it transcend the function? A shape must be attractive and

dynamic and be able to take the commuter on a journey through

the transferium. The function can be subsequently connected to the

shape. If the shape has a guiding and recognizable effect, the shape

can become more abstract, like in Zaha Hadid’s works.

Zaha Hadid Architects have based their car park Hoenheim - Nord

in Strasbourg• on the concept of “patterns of movement”. Hadid

describes this concept as “a field, where the patterns of movements

are engendered by cars, trams, bicycles and pedestrians, each has

a trajectory and a trace, as well as a static fixture. It is the transition

between transport types that is rendered as the material and spatial

transitions of the station, landscaping and the context.” ( Henley

2007: 83 ) The result is a car park resembling an abstract work of art.

The graphic shape has clearly transcended its function in this design.

The static parking lot has changed into the form of an inspiring

dynamic field, which creates more possibilities than the function

of parking alone.

c o n c l u s i o n

The potential of the transferia does not lie in the implementation

of functions, but in the design of the place. The design must guide

travelers on their daily trip through the transferium from arrival

to departure. Shapes such as slopes, symmetries, diagonals and semi

circles, turn the transferium into a dynamic and impressive design.

But also the routing through the transferium and its buildings is

a true challenge. The use of staircases, walkways, views, columns,

can give a transferium a dramatic character. By shaping a transferium

aesthetically, movement can be created, turning the outside space

into an interesting experience.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

49

Transferia are a flowing link between city and highway. The continuous

motion of arrival and departure implies the dynamic notion of speed.

The speed can produce shapes; a spiral has the capacity to create speed

and a moving panoramic view. Instead of forcing the drivers to drastically

reduce speed when leaving the highway and entering the transferium,

the design can be dynamic with the help of spirals, slopes, curves and

certain material to turn the flow of speed up or down. The information

at a transferium can be designed incorporating different layers of speed

while guiding the traveler through the transferium.

The transferium design should create an attractive and supple transfer

for the travelers. The fluent motion and expressive information could

all contribute to what a transferium should be: an experience between

city and highway.

s o u r c e s

Augé, Marc ( 1995 )

Non places: Introduc t ion to an Anthropolog y of

Supermodernit y

New York: Verso Books.

Henley, Simon ( 2007 )

T he Architec ture of Parking

London: Thames & Hudson.

Nijenhuis, Wim & Wilfried van Winden ( 2007 )

De Diabolische Snelweg

Rotterdam: Uitgeverij 010.

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

50

mapping public spac e

research repor ts

The ambition of Henk Slager's professorship in Artistic Research

is to connect with concrete developments in the field of visual art.

This year, Henk Slager's curatorship of the 7th Shanghai Biennale,

Translocalmotion, offered an excellent opportunity for such

connection. www.shanghaibiennale.com ) During Translocalmotion,

the Utrecht Graduate School of Visual Art and Design was able to

elucidate its focus on Research - Based Practices further in the context

of an international platform. Two mahku Fine Art lecturers – Tiong

Ang and Jeanne van Heeswijk– were invited to develop new projects

for the 7th Shanghai Biennale. Both projects stressed the mapping

of the micro-political conditions constituting Shanghai's public space.

Similar projects were executed by artists such as Ricardo Basbaum,

Ursula Biemann, Mariana Castillo Deball, Lonnie van Brummelen

& Siebren de Haan, Inci Evenir, Harun Farocki and Hito Steyerl.

Furthermore, two lecturers at mahku's MA Design faculty worked

as editor ( Annette W. Balkema ) and designer ( Chris Vermaas )

on a parallel publication: The Shanghai Papers ( Hatje Cantz,

Ostfildern, 2008 ). For this second Translocalmotion "catalogue",

participating artists were invited to discuss their own research

projects. That points to another important emancipatory focus

of the professorship in Artistic Research, i.e. artists' contextualization

of their own artistic practice.

Alongside these artistic explorations, research-based practices, and

documentary aesthetics, the curator organized an international

symposium directed towards the evaluation and discussion of similar

research issues such as the topic of knowledge production, ( public ) art

as a tool for urban research and, ultimately, current curatorial models.

The symposium, Mapping Public Space, took place on September 8

in the Shanghai Art Museum before the opening of the 7th Shanghai

Biennale 2008.

Mapping Public Space started with a keynote statement by Irit Rogoff

Goldsmiths’ College, London ). Rogoff addressed the concept of

Documentary Turn, a concept that should not be viewed, she claims,

as a focus on commentaries and coverages, since that would stress too

much the issue of user reduction evoked by the image of consumptive

knowledge. Rather, a documentary turn relates to a temporal

suspension, an intensifying enactment of Agamben’s Homer Sacer,

he who has been killed but not yet sacrificed.” Rogoff considers

this a clear shift from a discussion of disasters and catastrophes as

traumatic events towards an understanding of a necessary temporal

suspension which is part of the processes of "trying to know".

Thus, the documentary turn of artistic practice could be viewed as

a form of knowledge in suspension, a form of knowledge production

starting from the creative practice in the form of an actualization and

interconnection of modes of the discourse on security, the globalizing

economy, and the implied consumptive rhetorics of a need to know.

Mika Hannula ( Gothenburg School of Art/mahku ) outlined

a theoretical approach to the analysis of public space as constant

(

(

“

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

51

process. In and through the acts and interventions of contemporary

art, public space is about becoming a specific and particular place.

Thus, public space is a process moving from a general space towards

a unique place: a place created and generated both physically and

discursively and relying greatly on our ability and willingness

to engage in social and spatial imagination. Hannula also pointed

to the productive dilemma of contemporary art projects

both temporary and permanent variations ) in a situation where

we have become aware of the involvement in a double act in all our

representations of reality. We describe a version of the world while

at the same time, through this description, we affect how reality

is shaped and comprehended. We are never outsiders; we are always

part of the problem, part of the mess. Both ourselves and our versions

of the world are always a negotiated and value-laden combination

of the five c’s: contextual, contested, conflictual, confused and also,

hopefully, compassionate.

In his presentation, Xu Jiang ( Dean, China Academy of Art )

addressed phenomena constituting the location Shanghai, such

as the city as machine of migration, the birthplace of urban culture,

the history of assimilation and distribution of ideas. Some of those

ideas pertain to the critical link with an emerging mass culture

and cultural industry. The important challenge and research issue

for the Shanghai Biennale – a biennale continuously focused

in its explorations on the city as context – will continue to imply

the possibilities for mapping out a unique strategy for the study

of urban culture in the local/global context.

Kasper Koenig ( curator, Skulpturprojekte Muenster ) approached

the urban issue from a historical perspective, within the context

of the Muenster exhibition as a decennial manifestation. What have

been the various methodologies and methods of production during

the last four editions? In 1977 Europe, the reflection on the relationship

between private and public was not yet an issue. It could be the case

that urban issues at that time were largely an American focus,

where the two domains of private and public already intermingled;

demonstrated, for example, by Michael Asher’s mobile caravan project.

For German artists the issue of private and public was irrelevant.

Joseph Beuys even referred to ontological kitsch in that context.

By 1987, European artists had become fascinated by urban issues.

They considered themselves mediators and looked to further explore

the ideological distinction between private and public. In 1997,

that artistic attitude as such was critically questioned. To what extent

could visual art contribute to changes and to what extent does art

confirm a status quo? Negotiation seemed to be the main concept

in 1997. In addition, the notion of “event” emerged in the form of

uncompromising, raw propositions. In 2007, research tended to

emphasize an anthropological focus, demonstrated in issues such

as the Human Existence and Public Space in the Age of Privatization.

An Asian example of reflection on public space is discussed by Young

Chul Lee ( curator of Anyang City Public Art Project 2005, Korea ).

In his lecture, art’s task is formulated clearly and distinctly: further

articulation of what is already intrinsically present within the urban

structure, and further reflection on the specificity of a local identity.

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

52y o u b e t t e r g o n o w, b e f o r e y o u t e l l m e t h i n g s

i d o n’t wa n t t o k n o w.

computer: I learned to talk about it. I never could before.

visitor: Mmm-hmm. I understand.

computer: Yes, I’m rather disillusioned. But urm, do you have any

plans for tonight?

visitor: Me? No, I have no plans for tonight. How about you?

computer: Well, I have no choice.

visitor: Yes um, but, eh, who are you actually? Are you just calling

this number?

computer: You better go now, before you tell me things I don’t want

to know.

visitor: No, yes, all right, but then you’ll have to tell me who you are.Ω

A one - to - one conversation is like a game in which both conversation

partners follow unwritten rules of Cooperation, Politeness and

Relevance. Relevance is particularly interesting. Its theory can

be explained as the wish to make sense of what the other is saying,

however improbable this may be. Until recently I was not aware

of these theories, other than that I use them unconsciously in the

context of my interactive sound installation Telephone. Telephone

is a computer device for ( semi - ) public space created together with

sound designer Slobodan Bajic. It lures passers-by into a telephone

conversation without them realizing that they are talking to a machine

instead of a natural conversation partner. Telephone consists of a

sound archive of pre-recorded utterances, sorted into categories.

The voice of the visitor activates the computer, which randomly picks

phrases from relevant sets, and plays them back in an attempt to

maintain a dialogue.

computer: And how are things with you?

visitor: Well, it’s ok here. Lots of nice paintings and um... well...

how can I phrase this...

computer: Brilliant!

visitor: I’m transferring you to...

computer: Sorry, I was distracted. You were saying?

Ω transcripts from telephone recordings

(utrecht 2006 & amsterdam 2008). transl ations from dutch by author (k arien van assendelf t).

That implies new requirements for artistic productions. Artistic

productions should be executed in an in - between domain, between

the bureaucratic and the artistic, between architecture and art,

between ecology and commercialization. Ultimately, visual art should

focus on the development of rhizomatic, non - hierarchical, urbanist

models from artistic practices such as can be seen, for example,

in John Körmeling’s and in mvrdv’s work. Finally, Translocalmotion offered students from twelve international

art academies ( including students from mahku’s Spatial Design Faculty )

the opportunity to be part of a two-week international summer school.

The goal was to map the possibilities and preconditions of public space

in Shanghai and present the outcome in the form of an exhibition. ( HS )

s o c i o l i n g u i s t i c s y m p o s i u m a p r i l 2 0 0 8

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

53

visitor: I’m transferring you to someone else!

computer: Yes, that is a possibility but I never experienced it that way.

Tone of voice, phrasing and timing are decisive elements in the

development of a balanced telephone conversation. Speaker gives

listener a turn by prolonging a syllable, dropping the voice’s pitch

level or by using stopgaps. ‘Empty’ remarks such as bromides, stopgaps

and fillers ( e.g. it’s like, well you know how it is ) help to keep a

conversation going, particularly in everyday conversations where the

purpose is more social interaction than exchanging information;

utterances that do not communicate meaning but open the channels

of communication. They fulfil a social function and that is their

principal aim.’

The challenge with Telephone is to draw the visitor into the

conversation by ( a ) introducing a personal, emotional story;

b ) asking the visitor for response; and ( c ) using bromides to keep

the conversation going. This way the visitor is drawn into answering

a question or replying to a remark without questioning who is on

the line. Generally, Telephone’s visitors react to a question or remark

spontaneously and seem to forget previous utterances. The result is

a random but believable conversation, although a confusing one,

as the conversation partner at times seems a bit odd to the visitor.

It is surprising to see how the visitor takes great pains to salvage

the conversation.

computer: I learned to talk about it. I never could before.

visitor: But that’s good.

computer: It’s all a bit nonsense, don’t you think?

visitor: Well, no, when something’s bothering you, you should be frank

about it.

The installation’s randomness makes it difficult to keep a conversation

going. But as mentioned above, this is not necessarily a problem since

in everyday conversations social contact is prominent. It only becomes

awkward when the visitor asks a specific counter-question, ( e.g. What’s

your name? ). Nonetheless, the computer’s answer might still be

acceptable, given that carefully phrased bromides are such strong

elements in a conversation.

computer: Beautifully spoken! I love you, we all love you!

visitor: That’s disgusting! Why do you love me?

computer: Yes, I also think it’s unfair but there’s not much

one can do about it.

Last April I presented Telephone at the 17th International

Sociolinguistic Symposium in Amsterdam. My presentation was

received with interest. Although researchers were surprised by the

archive and responses, they disputed the randomness of the project.

To turn my artistic research into proper sociolinguistics, I would have

to narrow down my premises to a small archive of phrases on one

topic for a specific type of interlocutors in a carefully chosen location.

Until then I will be more of a funny novelty to the theorists. But my

‘

(

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

54

aim is not to do general sociolinguistic research; I am simply intrigued

by the philosophical questions and psychological effect of everyday

language in interaction.

Via the Sociolinguistic Symposium I came into contact with

researchers from Huddersfield University in the UK. This group

develops a methodology for the emerging field of Language in

Conflict. Conflict speech and impoliteness form part of Critical

Discourse Analysis, which investigates how authority, inequality

and power are transmitted through language. In a one - to - one

conversation, if one of the interlocutors ignores the rules of

Cooperation, Politeness and Relevance, the power balance crumbles.

The control shifts to the one that broke the rules; he is now in charge,

because he put his interlocutor on the wrong footing. Often this

means the end of the interaction. Interlocutors become strangers

to each other and communication stops.

With Telephone, who is ruling the conversation? Telephone’s behavior

as a conversation partner can come across as nonsensical, ironic,

too direct or rude - all forms of impoliteness. The installation could

thus be considered an example of how to trigger conflict in language,

with the computer as culprit.

computer: Sorry, I was distracted. You were saying?

visitor: No nothing, I didn’t say anything.

computer: Well, that is a conversation that we certainly

should have some day.

( Karien van Assendelf t )

u t r e c h t r e s e a r c h l e c t u r e

A few times a year, the professorship in Artistic Research invites

a guest speaker within the context of the Utrecht School of the Arts’

General Studies program. The invited speakers are all based in

a research practice and engaged in the question of the specificity

of artistic knowledge production and how that knowledge production

is related to curatorial models. Mika Hannula has talked about the

development of an exhibition model out of four presented PhD projects.

On November 26, 2008, painter Luc Tuymans, who recently was

awarded an honorary doctorate from the University of Antwerp,

lectured about the status of artistic research in the academic landscape

of Belgium. Tuymans particularly focused upon the Brussels model,

a PhD program for artistic researchers developed by Hans de Wolff at

the Free University of Brussels. Within an artistic research framework,

Tuymans discussed three exhibitions of his work in Museum Budapest,

Haus der Kuenste Munich, and Museum Warzawa, while explaining

how the exhibition of paintings is not merely a matter of mounting

them on the wall. Rather, each exhibition set-up is a deliberate spatial

and installative articulation of a concept. One of those concepts is

the delusion of the utopian idea – in Tuyman’s view the ambiguity

between religion and power – as constituted by the iconography of

the Order of Jesuits. Tuymans claims that the utopian will ultimately

lead to an absolute vacuum, via the topography of entertainment and

obscenity in reality television.( Luc Tuymans )

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n

55

3 – 4 e d i t o r i a l











i l s e b eu m er



56 c o l o f o n 56

m a h k uzine 6

j o u r n a l o f a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h

w i n t e r 20 0 9

m a h k uzine

j o u r n a l o f a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h

h o s t e d b y t h e u t r e c h t g r a d u at e s c h o o l o f v i s u a l a r t a n d d e s i g n ( m a h k u )

i s s n: 18 8 2 - 4728

c o n ta c t

m a h k u z i n e

u t r e c h t g r a d u at e s c h o o l o f v i s u a l a r t a n d d e s i g n

i n a b o u d i e r - b a k k e r l a a n 5 0

3 5 8 2 va u t r e c h t

t h e n e t h e r l a n d s

m a h k u z i n e @ m a h k u.n l

w e b s i t e

w w w.m a h k u.n l

e d i t o r i a l b o a r d

h e n k s l a g e r ( g e n e r a l e d i t o r )

a n n e t t e w. b a l k e m a

a r j e n m u l d e r

j e s s i c a g y s e l

f i n a l e d i t i n g

a n n e t t e w. b a l k e m a

l a n g u a g e e d i t i n g

j e n n i f e r n o l a n

t r a n s l at i o n s

g l o b a l v e r n u n f t

d e s i g n

c h r i s t i a a n va n d o k k u m, m a h k u / m a e d i t o r i a l d e s i g n

e a r n

m a h k u i s pa r t o f t h e e u r o p e a n a r t i s t i c r e s e a r c h n e t w o r k ,

t o g e t h e r w i t h t h e h e l s i n k i s c h o o l o f a r t, m a l m o s c h o o l o f a r t,

g r a d c a m ( d u b l i n ) , s l a d e s c h o o l o f a r t, l o n d o n a n d v i e n n a

s c h o o l o f a r t.

pa r t i c i pa n t s

k a r i e n va n a s s e n d e l f t, m a h k u g r a d u at e , m a f i n e a r t.

i l s e b e u m e r , m a h k u g r a d u at e d e s i g n , p u b l i c s pa c e d e s i g n .

a n d r e a s g e r o l e m o u, m a h k u g r a d u at e d e s i g n , e d i t o r i a l d e s i g n .

e r i k a j a c o b s l o r d, m a h k u g r a d u at e d e s i g n , i n t e r i o r d e s i g n .

w i m m a r s e i l l e , c o u r s e l e a d e r m a i n t e r i o r d e s i g n , m a h k u, u t r e c h t.

a n d r e a s m u e l l e r , r e s e a r c h e r j a n va n e y c k a c a d e m y, m a a s t r i c h t ;

c o - c u r at o r s y m p o s i u m s pat i a l p r a c t i c e s .

Documents

MaHKUzine #6, Winter 2009