TABLE OF CONTENTS
I. Introduction
II. Why Singulars?
III. The Singular and the Particular
IV. Singularization and Architectural Science
V. Conclusion
BIBLIOGRAPHY
This is the first of four installments, and contains section I.
I. Introduction
What kind of science could an architectural science (Architekturwissenschaft) be? This question may already be complex, but even before proceeding to answer it, however, we should ask a prior question: why would one pose the first question at all? To what issue is it a response?
Apparently, it is not clear what kind of science Architekturwissenschaft is. It is a science, but as far as sciences allow for different kinds, it is not the kind of science that physics, chemistry, or geology actually are. So, we are on the lookout for a species of science that has a certain kinship with existing types of scientific work but is nevertheless of a different kind or strain. Given this ambiguity, how to shed more light on the issue?
We could follow different inroads into existing theory to answer this question. We could, for instance, follow a historicist approach, and track the ways in which practitioners in the past attempted to systematize their knowledge and findings. Alternatively, we could survey a range of historical cases in which the application and accumulation of architectural knowledge was manifest, in an attempt to derive useful knowledge from such practices. Yet again, we could investigate design methods of historical and contemporary architects and list how their knowledge grew and related to tradition, or even how it relates to new insights.[i]
Yet, I think that these approaches skip over the very reasons why we should think about what an architectural science consists of. To be sure, the 20th century saw many attempts to shape the architectural sciences after the model of the exact sciences. In particular during the decades after World War II, developments in decision theory, cybernetics, and engineering conceived of architectural design along the same lines as graphic design or industrial design.[ii] Due to the prevailing emphasis on modernistic concepts, this was only to be expected, and very much inline with The Vienna Circle’s core concept of a “neutral system of formulae”:
We want, on the contrary, to affirm forcefully that the constructive spirit is as necessary to create a picture or a poem as it is to build a bridge. Better yet, we affirm the necessity of an aesthetic system for creators. Art, like science or philosophy is an order created by man in his representations.[iii]
The goal [of the scientific mindset] is unified science. (…) From this aim follows the emphasis on collective efforts, and also the emphasis on what can be grasped intersubjectively; from this springs the search for a neutral system of formulae, for a symbolism freed from the slag of historical languages; and also the search for a total system of concepts.[iv]
Again, we encounter the same line of thinking later in the 20th century in E.O. Wilson’s notion of a “unified science.”[v] If we add to this the still-lasting influences of both CIAM-style modernism and philosophical positivis, then we can understand how scientific practices modelled on the natural sciences are often still deemed to be the common denominator of all scientifically valid knowledge. In turn, this premise rests on an even deeper-seated belief: namely, that the sciences produce knowledge that’s “clear and distinct,” to borrow the Cartesian formulation. And, in keeping with this philosophical tradition, it was the intellect or Cogito that was elevated as the instrument and seat of knowledge, giving pride of place to logical reasoning over the seductions of affect or feeling.
Despite being three centuries old by the time, this type of intellectualism fitted particularly well with the early 20th-century cultural belief in technocratic advancement of society and social engineering. The realization that architectural science could (and should) be a different kind of science only gradually took shape during the late 1970s and 1980s. The very terms “designerly ways of knowing” or “design thinking” testify to the fact that they were properly discovered as distinct categories.[vi] It was as if designers and design researchers suddenly could fall back on something intrinsic to their disciplines, without having to search for justifications in the concepts used by others.[vii] Likewise, Gui Bonsiepe has named this process the “cold bath” of scientization (Verwissenschaftligung) and rationalization (Rationalisierung) of design activity throughout the 1960s, eventually to be followed by the realization that this scientization went too far, was rationally unjustified, and became counterproductive as well as over-restrictive.
With the realization that architectural science did not need to adhere to the model of the natural sciences, the question immediately arose as to what template it was then supposed to follow—if any at all. With the entrenchment of the artistic disciplines inside the larger social institution of higher education, this question became more and more pressing.[viii] After all, if the professional academy develops and systematizes knowledge, what kind of knowledge is it, and what kind of science produces it? Where would this new discipline it positioned in relation to other disciplines?
It’s possible to understand the last 20 years of design theory as attempts to answer these questions by tracing out a rough-and-ready territory for the architectural sciences. By analysing and mapping its methods, its cognitive styles, its vocabulary, its domains of application and its position in both academy and everyday life, the very idea of an architectural science was developed, explored and charted. Granted, this process is far from complete, and runs like a parallel track alongside new developments, such as generative design and parametric design.
That these attempts do not add up to a completely coherent picture is therefore understandable: the terrain changes while the map is being drawn. Moreover, the tendency of designers to borrow concepts from other disciplines and transform them in the service of an idea or project has created a proliferation of cross-overs that are in themselves interesting, but that also resemble a sprawling web of ideas that only loosely hang together, if indeed they substantively relate to one another at all.
If we add to this reluctance of some to think about the systematization of design knowledge in favour of unconstrained creation and hybridization, then we end up in a situation in which the question “what is an architectural science?” acquires relevance once again, even if only to provoke those to whom the idea is anathema. If the playing field of the architectural sciences changes continuously, and the systematization of knowledge is distrusted, exactly then do we require a theory that asks how the architectural disciplines fit into academic or broadly scientific structures. Simply avoiding or brushing over the question will only make it reappear more forcefully.
How persistent such questions are, is well demonstrated in James Corner’s excellent 1990 essay, “Origins of Theory”:
[W]e look for theory to provide a foundation–a shared basis and purpose for the practice and performance of the discipline. In this way, theory might be expected to provide a responsible structure with attendant principles and norms from which prescriptions for action may be drawn.[ix]
But as we have seen, it is this conception of theory that is regarded with some suspicion, with the cold bath of scientization still in mind. On the other hand, we might place our hopes on theory for another reason:
Alternatively, perhaps we look to theory not so much for stability and coherence, as for breakout and rupture. Theory might act as a sort of disruptive catalyst, an inventive prompt, fostering new thought and inquiry within the discipline.[x]
This position represents the other extreme: not stability, but disruption drives thinking on architectural science. However, there has been no shortage of so-called disruptive theory over the last decade. So much so even, that I am inclined to maintain that too much disruption accomplishes just as little as mindless scientization. What is required then, is an informed “third position” that’s not necessarily positioned exactly halfway between the two extremes.
An outline of this “third position” is laid out in this essay. But instead of focusing on which methods that an architectural science utilizes, or what kind of vocabulary can be found in its discourse, or even what kind of design instruments are being used by architectural scientists, I will focus on the root metaphor it utilizes.[xi]
This choice is deliberate. Tracking methods, outcomes, terminology, or practices all too often lead into surveys in which either the lack of completeness or the swiftly developing reality obfuscates the conceptual issues that necessitate such mapping efforts in the first place. Instead of trying to come up with a compendium of practices, methods, or terms, I will sketch out what seems to me the core of architectural science, a core that remains consistent across its methods, cases, practices, and that develops along with new means of design, yet remains recognizable throughout.
Therefore, I will present a single—and I believe defensible—thesis: that architectural design practice (and therefore architectural science as well) is primarily concerned with the conception of spatial singulars.
But this thought raises immediately two further concerns. First, I should—at least provisionally—define “clearly and distinctly” what a singular actually is, especially given the variety of possible definitions. Second, I should formulate in sufficient detail how the singular relates to its theoretical counterpart, namely, the particular and how it positions itself in the world. It is only against a background of particular, yet regular, or even mundane occurrences that a singular event stands out. Its very nature is determined by that which it is not.
Given these presuppositions, three theoretical tasks suggest themselves. First, we need to provide a working definition of spatial singulars and a justification of why one would assume that an architectural science would be concerned with them. Second, we need to formulate a theoretical account of the relationship between the singular and the particular. And third, we need to see how this theoretical edifice relates to the notion of an architectural science and its associated modes of knowledge production.
[i] See for instance: (Margolin, 1989).
[ii] For the canonical texts of this approach, see: (Newell 1967, 1979; Simon 1972, 1996; Rittel and Webber, 1973; Alexander 1964).
[iii] (Ozenfant and Jeanneret 2008: 183).
[iv] (Verein Ernst Mach, 1929: 5, underlining added).
[v] (Wilson, 1999).
[vi] See: (Archer, 1995; Cross, 2007; Lawson, 2005).
[viii] For the classical statement, see: (Frayling, 1993).
[x] Ibid.
[xi] I borrow the term “root metaphor” from (Pepper, 1942).
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