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Origins of Architectural Pleasure



Among animals generally we humans especially need such a place for at least three reasons. The first is that as "feeble and almost defenseless primates," we lack many of the coping attributes other animals possess. Although I noted these in Chapter 1, they bear repeating: our teeth and claws are of limited effectiveness; we have no venom, no wings, new are neither very big nor very fast nor very well camouflaged; we have no shell or even a tough hide to protect against the teeth and claws of others; nor are our sense as acute as those of many other species. And we are poorly equipped to deal with the inanimate threats of climate; we have neither fur to protect against the cold nor adequate cooling systems to protect against the blazing sun. Finally, childhood, in which we depend on external support, is longer for us that for any other species except the elephant. It would have been essential from earliest times that we be programmed to find or create a haven for long-term concealment and protection against predation and weather,

The British geographer Jay Appleton has called this place of concealment and protection the refuge. He considers the refuge concept to e of paramount importance, "one of the most fundamental in the symbolism of environmental perception. It finds extreme expression in the search for the nesting-place. If safety can't be secured, and if in the consequence the individual organism ceases to function biologically, when all other desires become, for that individual, biologically irrelevant." Appleton illustrates the continuing presence of the refuge image in human awareness through numerous instances in poetry and painting. A poem by Sidney Lanier, "The Marshes of Glynn," describes the deep world of

Beautiful glooms, soft dusks in the noon-day fire, --
Wildwood privacies closets of lone desire,
Chamber from chamber parted with wavering arras of leaves--.
Such settings - groves; or pocketed, contained spaces such as ravines; or in the extreme case caves, always in subdues light - such settings convey the possibility for hiding and therefore for safety. We seek them as we seek food and water.

But we must get food and water, too, and in safety. We need access to a place where we can hunt and forage, a place that offers open views over long distances and is brightly lit, both to present a clear image of the landscape and to cast information-laden shadows - our fondness for sunlight may derive from its usefulness for this purpose. Such a place lets us hunt animals and gather plants while also revealing dangers that demand a retreat to the refuge. This more brightly lit open area of extensive views Appleton has named the prospect. Examples in poetry or painting are sunlit broad meadows or expanses of water. In Lanier's poem the poet moves from the refuge of "Wildwood privacies" to the prospect at the edge of the wood - "to the edge of the wood I am drawn, I am drawn," to "the vast sweet visage of space," a "world of marsh that borders a world of sea."

Refuge and prospect are opposites: refuge is small and dark; prospect is expansive and bring. It follows that they cannot coexist in the same space. They can occur contiguously, however, and must, because we need them both and we need them together. From the refuge we must be able to survey the prospect; from the prospect we must be able to retreat to the refuge. The eighteenth-century grotto at Stourhead garden, Wiltshire, with its meadow and lake is a concise artificial example of their immediate juxtaposition.




Origins of Architectural Pleasure was recommended to me by my friend, Steve. This is a well-written book that finds a set of basic human needs and gives examples of how certain architectural forms have fulfilled these basic needs. It's fascinating to see how people who on the surface may seem like architects with completely different styles actually unite on the level of satisfying these needs.

©2005 karenika.com