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"The Transcendence of Architecture: Searching for Common-Ground in

Architectural Experiences" - Full Paper

Conference Paper · July 2012

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ISPA - International Society for the Philosophy of
Architecture

Ethics and Aesthetics of Architecture and the Environment

July 2012 - Newcastle University

Full Paper Submission

“The Transcendence of Architecture:

Searching for Common-Ground in
Architectural Experiences”

Author: Felipe Loureiro

e-mail: [email protected]
 “God is not far from each of us… In fact we live in him,
we move in him, we exist in him.”
St. Paul Apostle
Acts 17, 27-28

A building – and in fact any human creation - is always pre-conceived to some

extent; it exists as an idea before it exists as a building. The idea exists only in the
minds of those who are conceiving it, and it will only become architecture after it is
built, and after people start living in it. The building itself is then the concretization of
an intention, or idea, which is always – although usually unconsciously - based on a
particular world-view. This led Swiss philosopher Titus Burckhardt (2006, p. 62) to say
that “It is impossible to be engaged in architecture without becoming implicitly engaged
in cosmology.” In fact, everything that we do is done according to the way we
understand our being-in-the-world. Therefore, all our experiences and actions take place
inside an ontological framework. However, it is becoming increasingly difficult to
identify a fairly common framework - at least in most Western countries. Thus, is it
possible to find a common-ground among our individual architectural experiences?
In “The Transcendent Unity of Religions” (1993), Swiss philosopher Frithjof
Schuon states that all religions share a common esoteric essence, while differing
exoterically in form. Individual experiences are exoteric, and therefore specific, but they
share a common esoteric essence – the archetypes or essences that emanate from the
Absolute. This notion is the basis for the argument we propose in this article. Our
individual experiences are always particular - somebody experiences something -, but
they share a common structure. In fact, we experience the same “thing” in different
ways, but the “thing” itself is obviously the same. This is why we do not intend to
present a closed theory or a method of any kind, but rather a way of looking at things.
This look is an ongoing process of reflection which consists in comparing our own
experiences with those of others, looking for coincidences that might somehow reveal
the “thing” itself. In order to do so, we must turn to the transcendental power of
authentic art, which is the only path to a true understanding of what other people have
experienced.

We only have direct access to our own experiences, but the experiences of others
can be transmitted directly (usually orally) or indirectly (through a written report, a
poem, a painting, etc.). Direct transmission is bound to time - if the report is direct, than
it is oriented to me; thus, the person who is transmitting it must be literally “talking to
me” -, whereas indirect reports can transcend time.

A work of art is a record of human experience – it is the “expression of an

impression” (Croce, 2004, p. 105). Through the work of art, the recorded experience
resonates through time, reaching the future generations - Shakespeare can still “speak”
to me if I read one of his sonnets or watch one of his plays. Every time someone
encounters a work of art, the original experience is reactivated, and the work,
reanimated - we feel what the artist felt, and for a moment it seems that he really is
“speaking” to us. Our individual experiences, which are completely separated in space
and time, somehow “overlap”. This creates a “community of vision”, which makes us
feel that we belong to the same world - “(…) others before me, and today with me, feel
the same that I feel and need the same that I need; this work is a banner of our unity”
(Abreu, 2007, p. 294).1

This unitary feeling was identified by Christopher Alexander in his 4-volume

work The Nature of Order (Alexander, 2002, p. 371):

“The feeling I am talking about is unitary. It is feeling in the singular,

which comes from the whole. It arises in us, but it originates in the
wholeness which is actually there. (…) Real feeling, true feeling, is the
experience of the whole.”

The feeling that arises through the experience of a work of art actually “comes” from
the work itself. The recurrent experiences of this feeling create a common-ground that
holds humanity together - it actually reminds us of what it is to be human. Regarding
the work of the poet, for instance, T.S. Eliot states:

“In expressing what other people feel he is also changing the feeling by
making it more conscious; he is making people more aware of what they
feel already, and therefore teaching them something about themselves.”
(Eliot, 1957, p. 20)

1
Original quote: “(...) outros antes de mim e hoje comigo sentem o mesmo que eu sinto e precisam do
mesmo que eu; esta obra é estandarte da nossa unidade.” Translation by the author.
 Poetry is the highest expression of human language; it connects men from
different ages through the expression of human emotions. Through this process,
language humanizes time. However, the Present is always running through our fingers -
as Italian poet Cesare Pavese (1998, p. 229) puts it, “One doesn’t remember the days,
but rather the fleeting seconds.” No one can say how long a feeling “lasted” - what is
left for us is to describe how it felt. This is the transcendental power of poetry – it
allows us to overcome the inescapable fluidity of the Present. John Ruskin recognized
this “power” in Poetry, but considered it to be surpassed by that of another art:
Architecture.

“The ambition of the old Babel builders was well directed for this world:
there are but two strong conquerors of the forgetfulness of men, Poetry
and Architecture; and the latter in some sort includes the former, and is
mightier in its reality: it is well to have, not only what men have thought
and felt, but what their hands have handled, and their strength wrought,
and their eyes beheld, all the days of their life.” (Ruskin, 1989, p. 178)

If we live in the same places where our ancestors have lived, we can feel that we
are really living in the same world. Poetry and Architecture link humanity together
through feeling – they allow us to have a glimpse at how other people felt throughout
space and time. Regarding the reality of Architecture, we can say that it really is more
powerful and more complete than that of Poetry, since the experience of Architecture is
necessarily an experience of the whole. The structure of an architectural experience is in
fact the structure of our perception of space – it is impossible to separate architecture
from space itself. We can “turn away” from music, poetry or painting, but we cannot
turn away from architecture – how could someone choose not to live “in space”? The
transcendental dimension of Architecture, then, lies in the fact that the reality of
Architecture is in fact reality itself. This is why Swiss architect Peter Zumthor defines
Architecture as “an envelope and background for life which goes on in and around it.”
(Zumthor, 1999, p. 13) We live in time and space, which are humanized by Language
and Architecture.
Turning again to Ruskin’s statement, we would like to point out that it hints at
the utmost translation of the “coincidences” between human experiences. His reference
to the Tower of Babel evokes a very familiar symbol, one that is related to both
language and building. Symbols such as the Tower of Babel translate experiential
coincidences, allowing us to have a glimpse of the unitary feeling. They are actually
manifestations of the Unity itself. Martin Lings, (2006, p.1), English historian and poet,
states that “(…) a symbol is the reflection or shadow of a higher reality”, this higher
reality being the realm of essences, or archetypes, which are the immaterial roots of all
concrete things we perceive and experience. Symbols are actually archetypes seen
through the veil of human limitations, and are therefore particular, whereas archetypes
are general. This is why all religions are built around symbols - they are the only
possible way of re-connecting to the “Supreme Archetype”.
Thus, we can say that a symbol is stronger or weaker depending on the extent to
which it links us with its original archetype. The unitary feeling is what links us with the
Absolute – the Unity itself -, and symbols are the path through which we feel Its
presence. When a work of art transcends time, resonating the feeling of its creator
through the ages, it somehow comes closer to the Eternal. According to philosopher
Wolfgang Smith, “What stands at issue in authentic art is a veritable imitatio Dei: the
human artist ‘participates’ to some degree in the creative prowess of the First Cause:
‘All things were made by Him, and without Him not anything was made’ (John 1:3).”
(Smith, 2005, p. 115)
Authentic art, being “the expression of an impression”, works as a symbol of the
real, unrepeatable and ungraspable experience of the artist. Its transcendental power lies
in the fact that the original experience can be somehow replicated in the experience of
the work itself. This only happens when the artist lets the Absolute express itself
through him, creating a symbol that is, at the same time, an expression of his individual
experience and of that which he has experienced.
Authentic architecture, thus, must create symbols which allow natural space –
the space designed by the Creator – to flourish through it. This relation can only be
attained if we use architectural symbols that are rooted in spatial archetypes. These
archetypes are perceived by man through natural symbols which, according to
philosopher Karsten Harries, “(…) have their foundation in those aspects of our human
being in the world that have remained more or less constant throughout history.”
(Harries, 1997, p. 130). As an example, the author describes what he calls “the
symbolism of vertical and horizontal”:
 “The symbolism is not limited to any particular tradition nor projected
into the world. It can be called natural in that it has its foundation in the
nature of human being in the world, in experiences of lying down and
getting up, of climbing and descending, of lifting, raising, and
supporting: experiences of the opposition of earth and sky, darkness and
light, matter and spirit.” (Harries, 1997, p. 187)

This symbolism was not created by Man - it is not an Idea. It is a real aspect of
human life, identified as a common experience lived by all men. It is not an abstraction
that can be inserted into the real world, but quite the opposite: it is born out of concrete
experiences. Interpreting these natural symbols, we have created conventional symbols,
which are specific responses to the general aspects of our experience of space – a
menhir, for instance, is an architectural symbol that creates a “humanized space” around
it, simply because it stands as a vertical element amidst the horizontality of natural
space. However, throughout time, these symbols became themselves models for the
creation of new symbols, and, in this process, their natural roots were usually forgotten.
A conventional symbol is experienced directly, in a concrete manner, and it is
rooted in a natural symbol which is a natural manifestation of an esoteric essence – it is
a symbol which was not created by Man, but for Man. To Karsten Harries, “If
architecture is to help to re-present and interpret the meaning of our daily life, it first has
to open itself to these symbols. Needed today is a recovery of the natural in inherited
conventional symbols” (Harries, 1997, p. 132). The recovery of the natural roots of
conventional symbols is nothing more than a search for the real, transcendental meaning
of these symbols. It is an attempt to remove the veil between symbols and archetypes,
between this world and the higher reality.
A higher knowledge about reality can only be attained by looking for what
surpasses it, not by what reduces it. Our ideas can never grasp the whole of reality, since
they are themselves a part of reality – they are, according to Brazilian philosopher
Olavo de Carvalho, only “aspects abstracted from reality” (Carvalho, 2008, p. 42).2 This
is why all theories are incomplete; they can only be more or less accurate expressions of
coincidences found through recurring experiences. If a theory is born out of concrete
experiences – which must be interpreted with attention and sensitivity – it can actually
2
Original quote: “Idéias são o quê? Aspectos abstraídos da realidade.” Translation by the author.
be quite accurate, but it will still be only an estimate. In this case, the theory is not a
closed system, but rather a view or impression - “Propositions are never true or false.
Only perceptions are true. Propositions are symbols of perceptions, and as symbols they
can never be neither true nor false” (Carvalho, 2008, p. 46).3
This is why Luis Barragán, one of the greatest architects of the 20th Century,
advised students with the following words: “Don’t ask me about this building or that
one, don’t look at what I do. See what I saw.”(Júlbez, Palomar, Eguiarte, 1996, p. 10)
Barragán understood that, in order to design better buildings, architects must try to
understand their own architectural experiences. Instead of accusing the “general public”
of indifference, maybe architects should just try to train their own sensitivity, allowing
themselves to achieve a deeper understanding of their own impressions. This can only
be accomplished if they also try to understand the experiences of others - and we can
find wonderful records of these experiences in literature. This is why, in “The Poetics of
Space”, Gaston Bachelard (1994) studied our intimate spatial experiences through the
descriptions found in literature.
However, as Olavo de Carvalho reminds us, “Experience is always individual,
and language is always collective” (Carvalho, 2007, p. 16).4 Thus, the individual
experiences lived by any writer can be “recorded” through his use of language - which
has to be collective in order to be understood -, but his work will never be a precise
account of his experiences. It will only be the closest he can get to it, his limitations
being his language and his talent in working with it. This is why the experience of
Architecture – and its mighty reality – is much more “complete”, as Barragán
acknowledged.
We must also point out that there is a inevitable tension between the emotional
strength of real experiences and the abstract thought necessary for the creation of a
complex object such as a poem or a building, as identified by Bachelard: “To compose a
finished, well constructed poem, the mind is obliged to make projects that prefigure it.

3
Original quote: “Proposições jamais são verdadeiras ou falsas. Só são verdadeiras as percepções. As
proposições são símbolos de percepções, como símbolos elas não podem ser nem verdadeiras, nem
falsas.” Translation by the author.

4
Original quote: “A experiência é sempre individual e a linguagem é sempre coletiva.” Translation by the
author.
But for a simple poetic image, there is no Project; a flicker of the soul is all that is
needed.” (Bachelard, 1994, p. xxii). This flicker is not the result of a conscious process,
but the intuitive response of a sensitive soul. Brazilian poet Cecília Meireles identified
this need for sensitivity, and understood that it could be pursued and nurtured: “The
path to freedom is long and obscure – today’s multitudes walk astonished and mad –
and one can only get to it through a discipline of sensitivity” (Meireles, 2001. pp. 11-
12).5 This discipline must be developed so it can enrich and validate our interpretation
of our own experiences, as it was observed by C.S. Lewis:

“What we learn from experience depends on the kind of philosophy we

bring to experience. It is therefore useless to appeal to experience before
we settle, as well as we can, the philosophical question.” (Lewis, 1940
cited in Tolentino, 2003)

This is, in fact, a recurrent, never-ending process of experiencing and interpreting – it is

an ongoing philosophical investigation. Our sensitivity must be trained and “tuned”
through our experiences of everyday life, of the concrete reality that surrounds us and of
the higher reality that surpasses it.
Referring to the “promises of mechanization”, Meireles stated that “The
promised splendour is fictitious, for it is empty of an immortal essence.”6 Human
creations based on purely abstract, “man-made” premises, will never have this immortal
essence. If we live surrounded by these creations, we will eventually lose touch with the
very idea of transcendence. This is why we need poets and architects – for, as Eliot
states, “(…) unless we have those few men who combine an exceptional sensibility with
an exceptional power over words, our own ability, not merely to express, but even to
feel any but the crudest emotions, will degenerate.” (Eliot, 1957, p. 21) Paraphrasing
Eliot, we can say that unless we have architects who combine an exceptional sensibility
with an exceptional power over architectural symbols, our ability to experience reality
will degenerate. We must turn once again to the real splendour of our own existence,

5
Original quote: “O caminho da libertação é longo e obscuro – as multidões de agora andam atônitas e
enlouquecidas – e só se chega a ele por uma disciplina de suavidade.” Translation by the author.

6
Original quote: “O prometido esplendor é fictício, por se achar vazio de uma essência imortal.”
Translation by the author.
and just try to understand it a little better, knowing that this understanding is also a gift
in itself:

“Man is the son of God and not brought into being by thinking. We are
called into society by a mighty entreaty, ‘Who art thou, man, that I
should care for thee?’ And long before our intelligence can help us the
new-born individual survives this tremendous question by his naïve faith
in the love of his elders. We grow into society on faith, listening to all
kinds of human imperatives. Later we stammer and stutter, nations and
individuals alike, in the effort to justify our existence by responding to the
call.”(Rosenstock-Huessy, 1969, p. 748)

Our minds cannot grasp the whole of reality. We can only trust our own
experiences, comparing them with those of others, hoping to find coincidences that
somehow allow us to get closer to the Truth behind all experiences - “Because
everything that exists, exists as a singularity and, therefore, as experiential data. On the
other hand, all knowledge only acquires validity when it is universal.” (Carvalho, 2006,
p. 30).7 This Truth is beyond our perception; however, it permeates everything that we
perceive. All we can do is to trust it, and try to know it as well as we can. This would be
a proper response to “the call”.

"But already my desire and my will

were being turned like a wheel, all at one speed,
by the Love which moves the sun and the other stars."
(Alighieri, 1980, canto XXXIII, l. 142-145)

7
Original quote: “Porque tudo o que existe, existe como singularidade e, portanto, como dado de
experiência. Por outro lado, todo conhecimento só adquire validade quando é universal.” Translation by
the author.
 Reference List

1. Burckhardt, T. (2006) The Foundations of Christian Art. Bloomington, Indiana:

World Wisdom.
2. Schuon, F. (1993) The Transcendent Unity of Religions. 2nd. edn.Wheaton,
Illinois: Quest Books.
3. Croce, B. (2004) Aesthetic As Science Of Expression And General Linguistic.
Kessinger Publishing.
4. Abreu, P. M. (2007) Palácios da Memória II: A Revelação da Arquitectura –
Volume I - Secção Teórica: O Processo de Leitura do Monumento. Lisbon:
Faculdade de Arquitectura, Universidade Técnica de Lisboa.
5. Alexander, C. (2002) The Nature of Order Book Two: The Process of Creating
Life. Berkeley, California: The Center for Environmental Structure.
6. Eliot, T.S. (1957) On Poetry and Poets. London: Faber and Faber.
7. Lejeune, A. (1998) The Concise Dictionary of Foreign Quotations. Stacey
International.
8. Ruskin, J. (1989) The Seven Lamps of Architecture. New York: Dover.
9. Zumthor, P. (1999) Thinking Architecture. Birkhäuser.
10. Lings, M. (2006) Symbol and Archetype: A Study of the Meaning of Existence.
Louisville: Fons Vitae.
11. Smith, W. (2005) The Quantum Enigma. Sophia Perennis.
12. Harries, K. (1997) The Ethical Function of Architecture. Cambridge,
Massachusetts: The MIT Press.
13. Carvalho, O. (2008) A Realidade: Aula 32 – Coleção História Essencial da
Filosofia. São Paulo: É Realizações.
14. Júlbez, J. M. B., Palomar, J. and Eguiarte, G. (1996) The Life and Work of Luis
Barragán. New York: Rizzoli.
15. Bachelard, G. (1994) The Poetics of Space. Beacon Press.
16. Carvalho, O. (2007) A Existência do “Eu”: Aula 23 – Coleção História
Essencial da Filosofia. São Paulo: É Realizações.
17. Meireles, C. (2001) Crônicas de Educação 5 (Obra em Prosa). Rio de Janeiro:
Nova Fronteira / Fundação Biblioteca Nacional.
 18. Lewis, C.S. (1940) The Problem of Pain, cited in Tolentino, B. (2003) O mundo
como Idéia: 1959-1999. Rio de Janeiro: Editora Globo.
19. Rosenstock-Huessy, E. (1969) Out of Revolution: Autobiography of Western
Man. Norwich, Vermont: Argo Books.
20. Carvalho, O. (2006) Aristóteles: Aula 4 – Coleção História Essencial da
Filosofia. São Paulo: É Realizações.
21. Alighieri, D. (1980) The Divine Comedy - Paradiso, Canto XXXIII, lines 142-
145. Translated by C.H. Sisson, Carcanet Press.

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