Architects on the rise

stardust

We keep wondering what growing architectures mean... and what we feel is that, before we grow external, visible, physical architectures, the one that alchemizes and metamorphoses is the one inside us. Or perhaps there is a permanent exchange between the two; they feed each other, they live in symbiosis. We constantly dance between receiving and giving back. You receive and give architecture every day. Maybe when you are just starting out you receive more and give less; and maybe growing up means balancing the scales or even tipping them in favor of what you give. But in order to be able to give, you first need to know how to sit with what you have received, to weigh, digest, keep and then put it into a form of your own. For that you need a mechanism, a filter, a decanter, a Berzelius glass, some test tubes and some inner essences in contact with which the outer substance can react and generate new ones.

What we have found in ourselves is that for a time the mechanism was imported, borrowed... the senses that were supposed to listen, feel, smell or see the architecture of each day were those of other ears, hands, nose, eyes. Perhaps this is a natural process, perhaps developing sense organs is also a stage in the development of any architecture breeder. It is important, therefore, to begin to awaken your senses, to consciously experience the matter that surrounds you every day, to pass new information through your own anatomical system.

To forget, perhaps, in extremis, all that you have been taught in order to start afresh with your own pores this time; to be a child again, discovering the universe, learning to walk, to balance, to cry, to laugh and to look at the sun. To allow yourself to reinvent the elements that populate the architecture of your life and to relive every emotion as if you had never felt it before. And if you've managed to do that with yourself, the next thing is to pay attention to others, to how the person in front of you lives, how they decode, how much they smile, what makes them sad, what kind of roots or wings they have and, in fact, what transposes them. To be an architect is to be a crutch in the development of the other, to support it, to encourage it, to open new perspectives and perhaps new senses for it to perceive.

It seems that in the first stage of the growth of the architecture of the other, the arch-act must embrace its femininity, must know how to welcome the other within itself and accommodate it, to transform it from a parasite into a welcome guest. It is a process of partial melting of the self, like the actor hosted by the role, which presupposes the capacity to renounce, to abandon and then the courage to go along with the other in a constructive step-by-step negotiation. It's a game of two, with equal responsibilities. Then you give up femininity and give way to masculinity... you have to propose vectors, decide and conclude. At the end of the process, neither of you is the same... for we grow together.

Read the full text in issue 2/2012 of Arhitectura magazine.
We keep asking ourselves what do growing architectures mean... And what we feel is that before growing visible, phy-sical, exterior architectures, the one that is alchemizing and metamorphosing is the one inside us. Or maybe it's a permanent interplay between them; they feed each other, they live symbiotically. We are constantly living the dance of receiving and giving back. You actually receive and give back architecture every single day. At the beginning, you probably give less and receive more; and maybe growing means to balance or even to tip the balance on what you give. To be able to give though, you need to learn to learn to stay with what you received; to balance it, to assimilate it, to keep it and then to put it in a shape of your own. In order to do this, you need a mechanism, a filter, a decanter, a beaker, some tubes and some inner essences that the outer substance could interact with and generate new ones.

What we noticed was that, for a while, the mechanism was imported or rather borrowed... the senses that were supposed to listen, feel, smell or see the architecture of the everyday were of another ear, another hand, nose or eye. Maybe it is a natural process and maybe enhancing organs for senses is a stage in the evolution of every architecture grower. Therefore, it's important to start to enliven your senses, to live consciously the surrounding matter, to filter the new information through your own anatomic system.

In extremis, to forget everything you were taught to be able to have your own start, to be a child again that is discovering the universe, that is learning to walk, to keep his balance, to cry, to laugh and to stare at the sun. To afford and to inventorize once again the elements that are inhabiting your life architecture and to live again every single emotion as you've never felt it before. And if you succeed in doing this with you, pay attention to the others, to the one in front of you: the way he lives, the way he's decoding information, how much he smiles, what makes him sad, what kind of roots keep him standing, what kind of wings make him fly and what is transposing him in the end. As being an architecture grower means being a crutch in the other one's evolution, supporting it, encouraging it, opening new perspectives for him and maybe new senses to be able to perceive them. It seems that in the first stage of growing the architecture of the other, the architect has to embrace his femininity, he has to learn to shelter the other one inside, to transform him from a parasite to a welcome guest. It's a process of partial melting of the self, similar to the actor sheltered by the role, that presumes the ability of giving up, of abandon and then the courage of walking with the other one, in a constructive negotiation; it's a game for two with equal responsibilities. Then you abandon the femininity and leave room for masculinity... you have to propose vectors, to decide and conclude. At the end of the process, none of them remains the same. Because we are growing together.

Read the full text in the print magazine.