Geometric Hypnotism : The Secret life of Eugene Andolsek

I love tales of a lone obsessive secretly and unknowingly creating masterpieces for no other reason than satisfying the desire to make them. I also have a love for artwork that assists facilitating hypnotic modes of consciousness (I think the two generally always go together). So upon discovering the extraordinarily intense, vibrant and trance inducing drawings of Eugene Andolsek I was even more enamoured when I heard the humble story about the production of these stunning images.

Eugene was a discontented stenographer for the Rock Island Railroad who spent over 50 years quietly producing these captivating images of geometric complexity and radiant colour at his kitchen table. His images were never displayed or exhibited to anyone, and Eugene himself did not have any interest in them after the joy of creation had concluded. For years these intricate gateways into altered states lay dormant in Eugene’s closets and draws. As Eugene retired from his working life, failing eyesight and ill health forced to him into the care of a retirement home. It was here a care give, first fell under the spell of Eugene’s visual hallucinogens and quickly brought them to the attention of the director of the Andy Warhol Museum of Art in Pittsburgh. Soon after this exposure Eugene’s works were included in the exhibition ‘Obsessive Drawing’ at the American Folk Art Museum New York.

For me the images are cathartic and alchemic. Visually they resonate something primitive, connecting with ancient cultures and indigenous tribes who understood the importance of such images as tools for spiritual growth, wisdom and connection with the divine. The everydayness of their production only adds to their spiritual significance by reminding us ‘that is better to have travelled well than to arrive.’

Demarcating the Sky.

One of the most awe inspiring sights I’ve ever experienced is a moonless, night sky in the Australian outback. A completely flat uninterrupted landscape turns into 360 degree continuous horizon line and an intense star filled sky completely engulfs your vision. As your eyes adjust to the low light levels over a number of hours, ever more of the vastness of the universe gets projected onto the surface area of your retina.

Completely captivating, it’s hard not to drift into a quiet state of contemplation, wonder and gratitude. As aboriginal folklore reveals, the night sky contains an almost infinite multitude of pictorial stories describing the dreamtime events of creation. Indigenous astronomical observations have shaped entire cultures and the sky has been used as a readily accessible store of knowledge since the dawn of man. Nowadays our everyday observations of the sky are more limited, particularly if living in a city where the delicate point sources of light from distant stars are obscured by the radiant light of modern living. However the sky is still closely observed. Today’s cosmological research is fuelled by the exciting and theories of surreal quantum realities which continue to inspire us to observe the sky and beyond with ever increasing precision and accuracy. The sky is also under close observation to allow the continual orchestration of our aviation industries.

All these modes of viewing and monitoring the heavens have manifested themselves in architecture. From airports to the Nazca Lines man has long sought to make demarcations of the sky into the landscape, either as acts of reverence, tools for navigation or a record of observation. Having spent the last few years labouring on airport master plans, the geometries of apron level taxi lanes, runway configurations and terminal orientations always remind me of the biomorphic Nazca lines which many have speculated are enormous astrological instruments.

Architecture as a time based Art

(as seen in #7 - the hourglass issue http://matzine.wordpress.com)
For me the delights of Architectural education have always been the insights that reveal the fluid, dynamic, changing and cyclic nature of Architecture. Lets consider Architecture as a process and as a unique creative act that happens, not only as a part of the architect’s design methodologies but also as a cognitive act that is fundamental to our perception and subjective experience of space. In this light architecture can be seen as a time based art that exists in space like a continual piece of music or a perpetual performance.

When we start to see Architecture not as inert spaces that we occupy but rather spaces created by our occupation, a complex reciprocal relationship between people and space, culture and architecture becomes apparent. Architecture can now be seen as a time based art that is inseparable from the way people perceive and use it. This cyclic relationship between human activity and Architecture sees Architecture as an event or series of events in time much like a performance complete with characters and protagonists both human and architectural.

In representing Architecture the traditional drawing methods employed by Architects transcribe and precisely construct a seemingly clear and scientifically objective representation of the piece of built work to be realised. These modes of representation continually improve with precision as our technology continues to expand. However they serve to reaffirm an assumption of a directly mapped correspondence between drawings and completed built form. This is incredibly useful for the swift translation of an idea into a built work but it will struggle to elucidate the time based nature of architecture.

This is no easy task, but perhaps lessons can be learned from other time based arts such as music and dance where the development of a graphical notation has had a significant effect on the development of these arts. Musical notation can be seen as a representation of space. Crotchets, quavers and semibreves are spatial divisions of a beat that denote rhythm and a passage of notes describes a set of musical intervals in time. Labanotation is a form of graphical notation describing a spatial geometry used in dance. Its originator Rudolph Laban defined a geometry utilising the limits of the of the outstretched body, which mark twenty seven points in space that tilt and rotate with movement.

These systems acknowledge the presence and necessity of a performer in order for the work to exist. This important acknowledgment allows a space for interpretation, indeterminacy, and the unexpected – this is improvisation. Can architectural representation relinquish its assumed Cartesian solidity and allow for a time based architecture to emerge that acknowledges the activity of those who use and perceive it as being its creative impetus?

Digital technologies may provide a possible future for an improvised Architecture that undermines the traditional position of the Architect as originator of the object. Genetic algorithms, self perpetuating systems and other digital drawing systems are being employed and developed that allow for an organic architecture to emerge.

However the attitude we adopt as designers is as a powerful tool. Actors, musicians and performers strive for complicite within a performance. Complicite is a shared sense of unity, heightened awareness and sensitivity to those around you. An architectural complicite can be achieved within creative teams when ideas are given space, where personal ownership is relinquished and personal expression is encouraged. This environment is highly conducive to creativity, spontaneity and can be seen as the opening acts of an architectural event.

The polymath Gordon Pask developed his Conversation Theory to describe the interaction between two or more cognitive systems or distinct perspectives within one individual, and how they engage in a dialog over a given concept and identify differences in how they understand it. Recognising that this intimate relationship of creation exists between people and their environment Pask extended his theory to architecture. He conceived of an architecture that would be in constant conversation and dialogue with its users.
Understanding Architecture as a time based art and representing it through a conversational loop unveils the potential of an exciting and organic architecture of participation, interaction and creation.

Liquid Stone

Fabric formed concrete structures are often used to stabilise vast areas of landscape that are exposed to some of the most erosive forces of natures. These types of erosion control systems usually involve a gigantic woven lattice of fabric forms, that are draped over the endangered landscape. The Fabric form is then filled in situ with concrete and adapts itself to the uneven contours, curves and topography of the site. The process of formation is akin to the processes of erosion it is protecting against. The resulting expansive concrete drapes intimately connect with the landscape like a Christo wrap, and act as reminder of man’s continued resistance with the sculpting forces of nature.

Dams across the globe also directly interface with the creative energies of the environment and often result in some of the most awe inspiring feats of human ingenuity in attempting to harvest these forces.

Toshio Shibata, a Japanese photographer, beautifully captures these and other concrete landscapes in his work. The stark black and white images capture the animation, fluidity and reveal the sculptural qualities of beautifully engineered concrete across Japan’s terrain.

Dealing with Density – The Images of Christoph Gielen

On a recent trip to the fabulous Las Vegas, before a weekend of decadence and debauchery begun, I was able to fly over parts of the Nevada desert and experience from 20000 ft some of the interesting patterns employed in some of mankind’s attempts to deal with the density of human habitation.

From that height and in the confines of a pressurised steel fuselage, cities and towns appear quiescent and peaceful. The underlying organizational principles of these places, that may have once started life as a few lines etched on architect’s drawing board, are also clear to see. Some of these strategies work in sympathy with the landscape whereas others attempt to dominate and control it; some are simply subservient and out of balance.

As I had deliberately forgotten my camera, not wanting any pictorial evidence from the possible events of the forthcoming weekend, I was unable to capture these beautifully clear views and was happy to let them pass into memory to wait for a moment of reflection. A few weeks later whilst sitting at my desk, I turnarounded to see one of my colleagues, happily procrastinating on the internet to some beautifully captured images of those very views I had seen from 20000 feet.

The photographic work was of Christoph Gielen, and he has been documenting suburban housing formations and its accompanying infrastructure across the North American continent for a number of years. His work is an insight into our continued and unrestrained growth into the expansive landscape of our planet. His micro light aerial views reveal a lack of balance in our monoculture development and prompt us to question how we use our ever dwindling resources. These images are a sobering and poignant reminder of our dissonance with the natural world...particularly when you’ve has just returned from the excesses of Vegas.

Decay and Complexity

My non architect friends often enjoy teasing me about my taste in architectural dexterity by joking that I always like things that look like they’re on the brink of collapse. And they’d be right, I am often allured and seduced by buildings that have been the victim of a neglectful relationship, that are no longer able to resist the earth’s gravitational pull or that have been led astray by the roots of a feral neighbour. As long as I have not been involved in the design and procurement of a collapsed building and do not live in one, they are easy to admire as there is a fascination, a beauty, and a poetic romance about a building that has been gently teased apart by the gradual processes of time.

We are often stirred and excited by the complexity, and its resultant ambiguity, of slowly accumulated patterns of decay. Like growth lines in a tree trunk or strata in a rock formation, the complex patterns of decay reveal personal biographies and intimate stories of a building’s life, and it is the speculation and interpretation of these events that captivates the imagination.

Buildings in decay can be a beautiful photographic subject. Just type ‘buildings in decay’ into a Google image search to see the extensive catalogues of numerous photographers around the world who capture these moments of deterioration. Below is a collection of one such search.

A Reverential Ecology

At a recent RIBA lecture Satish Kumar, a prominent Indian philosopher and ecological theorist argues the importance of coupling a genuine and sincere philosophical approach with our technological advancements when asking how to live sustainably. He argues that climate change is a consequence of our actions and that it is imperative that we deeply examine the root causes - our attitudes and the way in which we relate to the natural world. The current paradigm that exists is leading to climate change, the exhaustion of fossil fuels and depletion biodiversity and we appear solely dependant on technology progression as the solution. In making the required paradigm shift Kumar encourages us to take responsibility and ask ourselves if we are living in fair, sustainable and joyful way in relating to the natural world.

He calls the required relationship with the natural world a ‘Reverential Ecology’: ‘Everything we receive from nature is a gift; whether it is food, water, sunshine or anything else; everything is a gift. This is the symbiotic relationship which equips us with, humility, wonder and reverence. Nature is not there to be plundered or exploited rather it is there to be cherished and celebrated.’ It is through this ‘friendship of mutual understanding and respect’ with the living environment that a sustainable way of living will naturally emerge.

Many architects are beginning to question the existing conceptual framework for the production of the built environment and are finding answers inspired from the natural world. Here I show two buildings that to me represent a ‘Reverential Ecology.’ I find them both beautifully sustainable, and I doubt neither architect was ever guided by BREEAM assessment or Sustainable code of practice to produce them.

They are both chapels set in idyllic locations, one is by the Hungarian ‘Organic’ Architect, Imre Macovecz and the other is a creation of Peter Zumthor. Both capture the imagination, and pay homage to their surroundings, without the use of grandiose views and marvellous vistas but instead they do it in an intimate and private way, which encourages the energy of the landscape to assist with the quiet contemplation of the chapel’s users.