Stephen Taylor Architects, Craddock Cottages, Surrey (2008)
On intimacy. A preview of Stephen Taylor’s exhibition at the ASD Gallery
In a seminal work on the physical and imaginary functions of the skin (Le moi-peau, 1985), French psychologist Didier Anzieu suggested that Western thought is deceived by the idea that appearances, the outer limit of things, conceal an essence within. In physics, this is documented by our obsession with ever smaller units of matter. Similarly, in philosophy and psychology the process of peeling away layer after layer of false appearances in order to arrive at a deeper truth is the ultimate metaphor of gaining knowledge. But if we look at the human body and its organs, the countless membranes, vessels and their linings, our heart, skin, or the cortex (‘rind’) of the brain, we see that this idea does not apply. All vital bodily functions rely on interfaces; they happen in between things. As Anzieu points out, ‘we are faced with a paradox: the centre lies at the periphery.’
This is fundamentally true in architecture, which is concerned with thresholds, real and conceptual. The word intimacy encapsulates this idea in a double sense. Intimacy derives from a Latin superlative that describes both what is ‘innermost’ (inter) and at the same time what is ‘most in-between’ (intra). In intimacy, the shell and the kernel coincide in a peculiar way. The degree of intimacy we experience in a space is not determined by increasing occlusion, but by gradually ‘tuning’ the degree of permeability of a space in relation to the world outside, analogous to a cell in our body – the room next door, the communal hall, the street, the city. It is in this context that Christopher Alexander has spoken of an ‘intimacy gradient’ and an architecture which gives encounters a dimension of added meaning.
A first-hand experience of Stephen Taylor’s architecture gives the impression that this way of thinking is central to the design process. The decisive element of the architecture is not found in what is enclosed, but what is left open: in passages, thoroughfares and courtyards, clearings, places of transition bounded by ‘double skins’ which produce different levels of opacity and seclusion.
A concrete example of such a double-skin can be found in the entrances to Three small houses in East London (2007). Behind a perforated bronze screen lies a small porch, a semi-private space that allows the transition from the street into the dwellings to happen gradually. On warmer days, when the door inside is left open, the screen protects the interior of the house but allows air and sounds from the street to circulate inside.
Three small houses as well as House on work in Shoreditch (2008) and Fronthouse / Backhouse, a proposed development in East London, contain a number of interior and courtyard spaces that can be closed or opened. Staircases wind up inside the dwellings and continue out onto terraces and into the open through sliding glass doors; spaces are arranged openly around communal landings that connect rooms along prismatic ‘enfilades’. But most importantly, there are carefully planned views into neighbouring houses. To move within means to be seen from outside. By engaging with these levels of transparency consciously, a more differentiated, meaningful dimension is added to dwelling.
Craddock cottages, a recently completed housing project in Gomshall village, Surrey, demonstrates that these ideas can persist on a larger scale. The cottages stand at angles to each other, enclosing gardens and yard spaces in between. Their elevations create a sculptural pattern that opens up and obscures views into and beyond the small cluster of houses. In spite of this unusual arrangement, the economy of the development remained intact through an ingenious use of space and a creative approach to building problems. Here we have yet another paradox, defying the common logic of ordinary housing developments: in architecture, a space lost is a space gained.
The skin is a great communicator. As can be seen in the masterplans and large scale housing projects in this exhibition, the degree to which the concept of intimacy and communion is realized is not a question of scale. What all these projects have in common is a consideration of thresholds and interfaces, in the form of membranes or entire building complexes, and how the varying degrees of their permeability is organized: within the dwelling and its immediate vicinity, the city, in a wider social and historical context, or across an entire landscape.
Text is taken from a small catalogue accompanying the up-coming exhibition.
For more details see: http://www.asd-realtime.org/2009/02/stephen-taylor-architects-intimacies/
