Architects As Storytellers and Story Creators
Architects As Storytellers and Story Creators
Architects As Storytellers and Story Creators
Before we dive deeper into the essay, I want to tell a short story. It is quite predictable but I shall
tell you anyway. Once upon a time, there was an ambitious interior architecture student that
wanted to handle large scale projects, redevelop every pocket of space within the local urban
realm, and make phenomenal architecture that would leave everyone who has seen it in awe. But
she took a class called “Everyday and Architecture” and questioned herself. What's the meaning
behind all those big scaled projects? What's the point of looking amazing on top with fabulous
works but no hearts touched? What was she really trying to achieve? What was she really
chasing? She realized the fame, and the validation didn’t really matter. It’s only amazing for a
second, but it never lasts. The things that were truly magnificent laid within the slices of ordinary
everyday life. The unseen tales, the unexpectedness of everyday activities, the stories of the
everyday. She realized the ordinary can be quite extraordinary as well. As you probably already
guessed, that student is me. In this essay I will elaborate my positioning as a future architect who
retells stories, who weaves stories together through their work, who creates new stories from
reviving the old, and who focuses on the small things but still makes big impacts.
The stories in existing spatial systems come from the inhabitation of the user. The architecture
means something because it is a history of human experiences, without it, it is meaningless like a
book with a title but no content (Michailidis, 2014). Wigglesworth & Till (1998) explores the
traces left behind after a meal. They convey The Lay of the Table as “a frozen moment of
perfection”, a moment of architectural order. Then comes The Meal that starts to reveal life’s
disorder through traces of occupation in time. Lastly, The Trace, the aftermath of the meal
leaving dirty tablecloths, disarray of plates, and small traces of food. The untouched lay of the
table can be seen as the setting of a story, still untouched by inhabitation of the user. The meal is
where the story starts to unfold—person a wants more salt, person b wants more juice—the lay of
the table slowly unravels into disorder and leaves traces. The traces of the meal persist to tell the
story of the meal in the past. Salt and seasoning crowds near where person a sat and multiple
cups are seen where person b sat. These patterns uncovered by the architect can be highlighted
and considered as a form of art or architecture themselves (Michailidis, 2014). These patterns
can also be seen as habits of the main characters that become the basis of inventing new chapters
to their stories or as Upton puts it, an “art of inventing” (Upton, 2002). Architects can leverage
these habits and patterns into curating a spatial system custom made for a certain set of users. For
example, the architect has the ability to add new features to the table like a movable seasoning
rack for person a or a juice dispenser for person b.
Since we are talking about stories and narratives, why don’t we analyze one? In the legendary
story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, we can see architectural details of the bear house being
curated for each individual bear. When the bears leave the house, Goldilocks explores the
“traces” of each bear from their porridge, chairs, and beds. Father bear prefers hot porridge, big
chairs, and hard beds; mother bear preferes cold porridge, small chairs, and soft beds; while baby
bear are mixed between the two. Goldilocks is only satisfied by baby bears' preferences because
they are “just right” for her. Their preferences and patterns are different but these different traces
show how curated these spatial systems are for the bear family. Mother and father bear’s
preferences weren’t “just right” for Goldilocks because it wasn’t curated for her. She was a
supporting role in the main character's story, the bears. The porridge, chairs, and bed’s tell the
story of the bear family, how they can live harmoniously with those differences because they had
the power to shape their everyday life according to their needs, thus shaping the materiality of
and bodily practices of the space around them (Upton, 2002). The specific composition of
architectural traits that is created becomes a form of identity and character of the bear house
(Barelkowski, 2012).
Cousins (1994) explains how an ugly representation is a negation of beauty and truth thus
showing the belonging to what is individual, he states “for individuality does not express the
truth of an object”. The truth of the object can be seen in the lay of the table, the sterile and clean
state of the table before the meal. The truth becomes the setting of the story and the ugliness
expresses a story as the meal unfolds and leaves traces. As architects we can use these “ugly”
stories to curate a design or spatial system that can be significant to each individual. It may not
mean much significance to a large group of people but for a certain group of people, person a,
person b, for the bear family, it can affect them significantly. It might add value to their life, or
improve their life to be more efficient and productive, or maybe even just add comfort to their
everyday life.
Achieving a Fulfilling Narrative
We’ve uncovered the traces, we’ve uncovered the ugliness, and we’ve uncovered the story. Now,
as a future architect, it’s time to retell these stories or create new ones. Retelling these stories as
storytellers not only helps in creating new innovations but also celebrates subjectivity in design.
Creating and/or retelling these narratives help link the user with its environment thus creating
identities and memories, aid the design process through forming a new story or highlighting past
history, and frame a certain perspective through visual storytelling (Tissink, 2016). We design
for the main characters of the story we choose to retell. The stories we retell might not be
relatable for everyone but surely it will be significant for a certain group of people or maybe it’ll
only be useful for the person or people we unravel the story for. But isn't it much more
meaningful? Architecture should never be generalized or standardized. The dining table with a
salt rack might be significant for person a but it might not matter to person b who prefers a juice
dispenser. Improving, enhancing, or re-creating these stories for the curated individual or group
is what architects should aim for. Adding value to the lives of ordinary people and leaving small
impacts that can compound within time is what I aim to do as an architect to tell & create stories.
How do we retell these stories we’ve uncovered? As architects we can take a very intimate
approach to highlight their experience and maybe even make it more efficient for them. We can
help to build new spatial systems or even just improve the systems that already exist. Maybe we
don't even need to do anything but uncover the spatial patterns that already happen within the
character’s everyday. As a storyteller we don't always have to fix a certain problem, we don't
always need a conclusion or an epilogue. It can be open ended and flexible to the story and/or
design. The uncovering of these patterns may not even be of use for the main characters of the
story we are retelling but for characters in other stories of different genres. It would contribute to
a deeper understanding of the creation of innovative and contextually responsive design within
architecture.
References
https://www.academia.edu/9275919/Traces_of_Architecture
Douglas, M. (1966). Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo.
Michailidis, K. (2014). Memories and Reminiscence: Traces in the City. Seminar Research
Methods.
Upton, D. (2002). Architecture in Everyday life. New Literary History, 33(4), 707-723.
Projects.
Wigglesworth, S., & Till, J. (1998). The Everyday and Architecture (Architectural Design).
Academy Press.