Its the Thought that Counts

It’s the Thought that Counts

Assigning a meaning to a structure is a big undertaking. Proclaiming a structure means “this” or represents “that” is something, which can be argued, which only makes it more difficult for an architect to take on a project, especially one immersed in memory and nostalgia.

Nostalgia is a uniquely human attribute. We tend to skew past events in our mind whether it be a more positive or more negative outlook, some level of interpretation occurs. This is a fascinating function of humans because, not only does an architect have to account for the “collective memory” of a community who is backing the memorial, and/or represented by the memorial, but an interpretation of the collective memory itself by the architect adds another level of disconnect from the original events. This is not to say that these “layers” necessarily distort the memorial into something meaningless, but rather these layers usually seek to cleanse an event of “noise” such as propaganda, scheming, motives, etc…As it has been said so many times before, hindsight is 20/20 vision.

When I say this, I think of the Safdie Holocaust memorial. Safdie, like in his design for the PEM, takes into account all aspects of the intent, content, and context of the structure, this time building for the memoriam of the Holocuast – the horror, the controlled atmosphere, the individual experience of man, and the “light at the end of the tunnel” were all present ideas in his design. What I enjoyed most about Safdie’s design though, is his recognition that this horrific circumstance ended. The world learned, and grew from that experience. In a way, he knows he cannot “re-present” the agony of the events, so he instead chooses to weave together a narrative of entire experience of going, being, and maybe living through the Holocaust.

There is no point in trying to “re-present” the Holocaust. I strongly believe, there is no way I could go to any memorial and truly feel the way the victims of the Holocaust felt for so many reasons, but there are two very big reasons:

1)     A visit to a memorial site of museum is a moment in time – maybe 1 to 3 hours? I cannot understand or relate to a lifetime of hate directed towards me in that short amount of time. The irreversible physiological scars those prisoners had are not something that can be created or experienced again.

2)     The physical agony is not re-creatable.

A memorial can strive to “re-present” but it cannot fully. For that reason, I appreciate that Safdie did not attempt that, but rather approached the structure as a narrative. The floor plan at times directs the viewer as to what order he/she experiences that space. The structure is physically imposing a certain travel throughout the space, thus ensuring a specific narrative for the viewer.  Safdie even went so far as to

“…tucked fire sprinklers — as well as mechanical, electrical, and plumbing systems — out of sight, to prevent associations with gas chambers...Rather than create a dark museum, the architect and his collaborators let the content of the exhibits communicate the terror of the Holocaust”.

Safdie knew the sprinklers could be interpreted as part of the experience of the museum rather than a stipulation of building codes. He was that careful with constructing his narrative, and that to me is a brilliant way to approach a memorial. The idea of a memorial space as a narrative makes perfect sense to me because story-telling does not proclaim to be truth or fact, but more visceral, and emotional. A narrative is upfront with the fact that it is there to communicate a specific message, and it may not be universal.

Maybe then, assigning a meaning to something is not the intent of a memorial. Maybe it is a mood point? In the article about the design for Ground Zero and Libeskind, we looked at the relationship between words and structure. If the structure does not make sense without words, is it functioning as a memorial? If it is too abstracted, too disconnected, too incoherent, and the general public cannot understand it for it’s intended purpose, is it then not a memorial? Philip Nobel wrote, “Language was so central to Libeskind’s efforts... When words and form are disconnected, the meaning is lost on the form”.  

                  This brings me to a question I posed a couple weeks ago, can we understand architecture, or even just form without words? Are words getting in the way from experiencing form on a more instinctual, basic, raw level?