As part of the deep mapping project around Saint Augustin, I set out to better understand how building a new site in the 12th century might have unfolded. Instead of relying solely on written sources, I chose to explore this through making. This approach allowed me to immerse myself in the materials and processes of the time, gaining insights that text alone could not provide. By engaging physically with the environment, I was able to grasp the nuances of medieval construction methods, the relationships between materials, and the overall context of the landscape.
Not far from the location I was documenting, I constructed a larger-scale sculpture: an attempt to reconstruct the principles of medieval building practices. It began with gathering materials, which included local stones and timber. Transporting these materials to the site was a challenge in itself, requiring careful planning and physical labor. As I stacked and disassembled my initial structure, I adjusted my approach based on the inherent qualities of each material. This process was not just about physical assembly; it involved a deep understanding of weight and balance, volume and void, and how these elements interact within a spatial context.
As the process continued, immaterial aspects revealed themselves naturally: orientation, the position of the sun, shadows, and the play of light. I found that these elements influenced my design decisions profoundly. They were not merely aesthetic choices; they were responses to the specific conditions on site. For instance, considering how the sun’s trajectory changed throughout the day informed the placement of structures to maximize natural light and minimize harsh shadows. This responsiveness to environmental factors became a guiding principle in my construction process.
Clockwise from top left (click to enlarge):
NORTH: a hilltop village under construction; this image reflects the intricate relationships between structures in the landscape.
WEST: “A space can never reach its place in architecture without natural light. The structure is a design in light.” — Louis I. Kahn These reflections on architectural philosophy tie into my own experiences and observations.
SOUTH: “At the end of the day I was inventing shapes and placing buildings in different relationships than they were.” — Louis I. Kahn
EAST: “The painter sketches to paint, the sculptor draws to carve, and the architect draws to build.” — Louis I. Kahn
I used only what was at hand: stones, tree stumps, branches. Slowly, the structure began to resemble a hilltop village — Gordes serving as a model. Each piece I selected was informed by its texture, weight, and history, allowing my small architecture to emerge organically. The assembly process was not just physical; it was a dialogue between the maker and the materials. As I worked, I documented each step, noting how each element contributed to the overall composition and how it resonated within the broader landscape.
Sometimes the best way to understand history is to let your hands ask the questions, engaging with materials and processes to uncover stories that are not written down. This tactile approach to history can reveal insights about past societies that are otherwise lost to time.
Interesting links:
In my journey of exploration, I also reflected on the role of craftsmanship in historical contexts. Craftsmanship is not merely about creating objects; it embodies the intersection of skills, knowledge, and the environment. Each handmade structure tells a story of human ingenuity and adaptation to local conditions, showcasing the intimate relationship between maker and material. This understanding enhances our appreciation for historical architecture and informs contemporary practices.
Furthermore, considering the broader implications of my work, I delved into the philosophical aspects of ‘thinking through making.’ This concept emphasizes how the act of creating can lead to new ways of understanding the world around us. It suggests that making is not just a means to an end but a process that enriches our cognitive and sensory experiences. By engaging with materials, we can discover new relationships and meanings, fostering a deeper connection to our environment and history.
An eye opener for me was The Craftsman by Richard Sennett.
In this light, ‘thinking through making’ becomes not only a method of inquiry but a way of life that honors the rich tapestry of history while paving the way for innovative futures.
In conclusion, as we navigate the complexities of modern life, let us not forget the lessons of the past that can be uncovered through ‘thinking through making.’ By cultivating a mindset that values tactile experiences and mindful engagement with our surroundings, we can create a more thoughtful and interconnected world.
Through this process, I hope to inspire others to embrace the philosophy of ‘thinking through making’ in their own practices. Whether in art, architecture, or daily life, engaging with materials and processes can lead to profound insights and a greater appreciation for the craftsmanship involved. By sharing my experiences, I aim to highlight the value of hands-on exploration in fostering a deeper understanding of our collective history.
Ultimately, the journey of ‘thinking through making’ is about more than just constructing a physical space; it is about nurturing a mindset that values exploration, curiosity, and the importance of sensory experiences in shaping our understanding of the world. This philosophy not only enhances our approach to art and architecture but also encourages us to engage more meaningfully with our environments, fostering a connection that transcends time and history.
As I reflect on my experiences, I am reminded that making is a dynamic process. It is a continual loop of feedback between thought and action, where each iteration leads to deeper insights. This is particularly relevant in the context of architectural practices, where the iterative nature of design can lead to more sustainable and contextually aware solutions. By embracing this mindset, we can create spaces that not only serve their intended functions but also resonate with their surroundings and history.
References to thinking through making and quotes by anthropologist Tim Ingold, janvanboeckel.com
It has been customary in the western tradition to think of making as a bringing together of a preconceived, ideal form, in the mind of the maker, with an initially formless mass of raw material. And for those who encounter the finished object, the thought can only be recovered by reading back from the work to an idea in the mind of the maker. Ingold presents an alternative account of making, as an inherently mindful activity in which the forms of things are ever-emergent from the correspondence of sensory awareness and material flows in a process of life.
Tim Ingold
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