If architecture is an inherently political act, where, why and how does political and social consciousness begin and locate itself within the process?

I live in Lafayette Park, Detroit, a planned neighborhood designed by Mies van der Rohe, Ludwig Hilberseimer, Herbert Greenwald, and Alfred Caldwell. I think there was a hopefulness on the part of the neighborhood’s designers for it to transform the social relationships between the people who lived in it, and between the neighborhood and the city itself. In that sense one could say that the political/social consciousness was there right at the the start of the project. But the circumstances that made the neighborhood possible are somewhat problematic — Lafayette Park was built on land that was cleared for urban redevelopment by the city government. It had been the site of Black Bottom, a working-class black neighborhood that was declared a ‘slum’. Many of the residents who lived in Black Bottom moved into new housing projects nearby (the Brewster Projects) which at the time were supposedly pretty nice, but are currently abandoned.

That said, Mary Ellen Carroll’s question of social and political consciousness is interesting to think about from the point of view of residents, i.e. the people who interact with the architecture. Fifty years after it was built, Lafayette Park is a solidly middle-class, racially diverse neighborhood in a city that is famously segregated and economically depressed.

The townhouses we live in have glass walls on the front and back. We often remark on the fact that seeing one’s neighbors on a daily basis going about their routines inside and outside of their houses creates a sense of familiarity with one another. In some ways it’s like seeing somebody’s frequent posts on Facebook — even though you may not have seen or talked to that person, you feel like you’re up to date on their lives.

Everyone seems to agree that something about the neighborhood’s layout – the paths that lead people from the parking lot to people’s houses, the trees, the glass walls, affect the way we, as neighbors, relate to each other in a positive way. It could simply be that we’re in close quarters, but it’s different than apartment living. It’s like by seeing each other, and living near each other, we develop a kind of sympathy for one another because we see in a way how similar our daily lives are. Many people would say that the sense of community in the neighborhood has perhaps more to do with the people who choose to live in downtown Detroit than it does with the architecture, but I don’t think that anyone would deny that the structures impact the way we live with each other.

So, if that intimacy, or sympathy for one’s neighbors, might be considered a kind of political or social consciousness, I would say that it can be activated in the late stages of a building’s existence, after the people have moved in and lived with them for a while.

Monday, November 21 at 2:06pm

Clearly, questions about revisionism(s), and their relationship to satire, are in the air.

As Marina Abramovic’s reinterpretation of specific artworks for a fundraising event and donor gala of the Museum of Contemporary Art was, largely, brought to our attention of the recently-infamous public letter of protest of Yvonne Rainer, we’ve witnessed two accounts of revisionism. Below are both letters, the first was reportedly written after a participating performer communicated the details of the planned performance to Rainer. The second, as we read, was written in response after Rainer observed a rehearsal prior to the event. The catalyst for those letters was Abramovic’s hiring and instructing actors to “perform” pieces from her now-historical artistic practice.

To Jeffrey Deitch:
I am writing to protest the “entertainment” about to be provided by Marina Abramovic at the upcoming donor gala at the Museum of Contemporary Art. It has come to my attention that a number of young people will be ensconced under the diners’ tables on lazy Susans and also be required to display their nude bodies under fake skeletons.
This description is reminiscent of “Salo,” Pasolini’s controversial film of 1975 that dealt with sadism and sexual abuse of a group of adolescents at the hands of a bunch of post-war fascists. Reluctant as I am to dignify Abramovic by mentioning Pasolini in the same breath, the latter at least had a socially credible justification tied to the cause of anti-fascism. Abramovic and MOCA have no such credibility, only a flimsy personal rationale about eye contact. Subjecting her performers to public humiliation at the hands of a bunch of frolicking donors is yet another example of the Museum’s callousness and greed and Ms Abramovic’s obliviousness to differences in context and some of the implications of transposing her own powerful performances to the bodies of others. An exhibition is one thing — this is not a critique of Abramovic’s work in general — but titillation for wealthy donor/diners as a means of raising money is another.
Ms Abramovic is so wedded to her original vision that she – and by extension, the Museum director and curators — doesn’t see the egregious associations for the performers, who, though willing, will be exploited nonetheless. Their desperate voluntarism says something about the generally exploitative conditions of the art world such that people are willing to become decorative table ornaments installed by a celebrity artist in the hopes of somehow breaking into the show biz themselves. And at sub-minimal wages for the performers, the event is economic exploitation as well, verging on criminality.”
This grotesque spectacle promises to be truly embarrassing. We the undersigned wish to express our dismay that an institution that we have supported can stoop to such degrading methods of fund raising. Can other institutions be far behind? Must we re-name MOCA “MODFR” or the Museum of Degenerate Fund Raising?

Her revisited, or revisited, letter is as follows:

To Jeffrey Deitch:
After observing a rehearsal, I am writing to protest the “entertainment” about to be provided by Marina Abramović at the upcoming donor gala at the Museum of Contemporary Art where a number of young people’s live heads will be rotating as decorative centerpieces at diners’ tables and others—all women—will be required to lie perfectly still in the nude for over three hours under fake skeletons, also as centerpieces surrounded by diners.
On the face of it the above description might strike one as reminiscent of Salo, Pasolini’s controversial film of 1975 that dealt with sadism and sexual abuse of a group of adolescents at the hands of a bunch of postwar fascists. Though it is hard to watch, Pasolini’s film has a socially credible justification tied to the cause of anti-fascism. Abramović and MoCA have no such credibility—and I am speaking of this event itself, not of Abramović’s work in general—only a questionable personal rationale about the beauty of eye contact and the transcendence of artists’ suffering.
At the rehearsal the fifty heads—all young, beautiful, and mostly white—turning and bobbing out of holes as their bodies crouched beneath the otherwise empty tables, appeared touching and somewhat comic, but when I tried to envision 800 inebriated diners surrounding them, I had another impression. I myself have never been averse to occasional epatering of the bourgeoisie. However, I can’t help feeling that subjecting her performers to possible public humiliation and bodily injury from the three-hour endurance test at the hands of a bunch of frolicking donors is yet another example of the Museum’s callousness and greed and Ms Abramović’s obliviousness to differences in context and some of the implications of transposing her own powerful performances to the bodies of others. An exhibition is one thing—again, this is not a critique of Abramovic’s work in general—but titillation for wealthy donor/diners as a means of raising money is another.
Ms Abramović is so wedded to her original vision that she—and by extension, the Museum director and curators—doesn’t see the egregious associations for the performers, who, though willing, will be exploited nonetheless. Their cheerful voluntarism says something about the pervasive desperation and cynicism of the art world such that young people must become abject table ornaments and clichéd living symbols of mortality in order to assume a novitiate role in the temple of art.
This grotesque spectacle promises to be truly embarrassing. I and the undersigned wish to express our dismay that an institution that we have supported can stoop to such degrading methods of fund raising. Can other institutions be far behind? Must we re-name MoCA “MOUFR” or the Museum of Unsavory Fund Raising?

So, questions of “updating” and “revisionism” are before us, and we can ask questions (here, in conversations) similarly of Mary Ellen Carroll’s prototype 180.

If prototype 180 is both an updating and a revising (together: making performative) of architecture, then what are the political and social forces that then become visible in this architectural performance? Other than the elements discussed in Rainer’s response to Abramovic, only serves as an on-surface parallel to the function of reorienting architecture. Carroll, here, functions more in the role of Rainer in response to Abramovic in the public eye.

The experience written above of living in Lafayette Park, Detroit is similarly important to consider.

So, if that intimacy, or sympathy for one’s neighbors, might be considered a kind of political or social consciousness, I would say that it can be activated in the late stages of a building’s existence, after the people have moved in and lived with them for a while.

I think that intimacy is a worthwhile lens in which we can locate political and social consciousness in the process (separate from, but clearly tied to the structures and objects) of architecture.

Projects like prototype 180, though, through our intimate knowing and experiencing of them makes ourselves immediately aware of the orientations that architectural structures direct us. The reorientation begins to set an alternative history (and future) for the structure within, and in relationship to, Sharpstown as prototype 180’s surrounding community. prototype 180 also puts the entire surrounding community in a new orientation by using the structure of the house as a purposeful (and performed) axis.

Political and social consciousness’ are located within, and located outside (in spite of) the processes that create that division. Architectural artworks function in the way that Yvonne Rainer’s letter to Deitch both created Abramovic’s artwork – as arguably, prior to Rainer’s attention, and thereby ours, the performers hired by MOCA and organized by Abramovic were no more than decoration, no matter their formerly having been tied to performative artworks – and denounced it.

Monday, November 21 at 3:27pm

I must isolate my response to architecture as the process leading to an eventual construction and not the final construction itself. The design and construction or redesign and renovation of a structure are the living, human moments in the life of an otherwise inanimate object. This small window of time in the life of a building or place is where a statement is made and where society is considered or disregarded, thus exhibiting a “consciousness.” At this juncture architecture can serve as an extension and embodiment of the state, the individual or a society. A great example would be a simple, one-family home built to face the street and the neighbors. Upon inception, society was the central consideration. Upon renovation and renewal the structure can be reconsidered and retooled for a society with different values and a greater consciousness for the environment and resources. A graywater collection system and integrated solar heating unit speak of the politics of a world with shrinking resources. What could be more political than tearing up a driveway to make room for a bike shelter?

The consciousness of a structure or place: the planning, consideration, intelligence, negligence, etc., becomes a static exhibition once a structure or place is deemed complete. The architectural actions can now be studied as reflections of a specific individual, society and political system.

Wednesday, November 23 at 3:38pm

It’s exciting to think about Mary Ellen Carroll’s Prototype 180 as satire, and to imagine other radical acts against a prevailing architectural ‘unconsciousness’ that cause people to re-think cultural and socio-economic givens. Danielle A.’s remarked-upon remark about “intimacy or sympathy with one’s neighbors as a kind of political consciousness,” is manifested in so many decisions: does a building comply with or reject existing standards/aesthetics/codes/values; is it environmentally conscious or dismissive; sensitively integrated or oblivious; inclusive or exclusive? And even if built structures are not conscious responses to such questions (conceived in a process poetically described by another participant as their “living” moment), they answer them by their very existence.

So much of the architecture in our built environment is a result of unconscious processes, and subversive acts like Prototype 180 serve to probe an inattentive public fed on bottom-line decision making and unconsidered assumptions about what the built environment should or could be. Even that which starts with shared values – like suburban walled communities – can have an impact very different from what may have been imagined or intended. In a different context, an example lies in how the collective, democratizing spirit of the Occupy Wall Street protesters inhabiting Zuccotti Park (NYC) inadvertently divided itself into the “haves” and “have nots” : http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/wed-november-16-2011/occupy-wall-street-divided?xrs=share_copy

Fallible, complex, and human, the OWS movement is itself a call to an inattentive public to radically rethink the political process, an extended “living moment” in the way that Prototype 180 exists in the realm of land use and civic policy. While every building can not/will not be subject to such rigor, by bulldozing entrenched views and unconsidered habits, architectural satire like this provokes us to reassess and reinvent our concepts of community and the built environment. This is a call for more such radical acts.

Saturday, November 26 at 11:22am

Image-ideas, such as the Domino House by Corbusier, trigger a process that sets off political and social consciousness.
That conceptual drawing of an “empty structure” proposes an architecture of refusal and is therefore inherently political. Like the best of minimalist sculpture it is stripped down to the barest of essentials. As an empty structure, one which the Glass House seems to mimic with its sparse and empty interior, it exists more as an idea than an entity, one that at its core profoundly works against and resists consumer culture.
Of course I’m talking of the un-built conceptual drawing.

Saturday, November 26 at 5:20pm

To be literal in regards to the question at hand and the allusion to Swift, there is a difference in scale within these metaphors. If Swiftian political satire is a glass, then we are outside holding it and thus holding everyone else’s faces. In the case of architecture, we are either outside/inside and we can enter/exit at will. Architecture can be a place for hiding, voyeurism, seclusion, introspection; or conversely one of interaction and collaboration. A shared space where hierarchies are broken (or at least fully exposed) and ideas are exchanged is a beginning. Also, I believe that architecture in and of itself involves a continuing series of political processes from design stages, to construction, to the current uses and the future lives of the “architected”.

Monday, November 28 at 4:28pm

First to Swift: Wrong of course, seeing yourself is the gate to narcissism, and delusion, since what you see ain’t you (Lacan). So the question: just look at the apartment you live in (or house if you prefer) and wonder where those room labels and wall divisions came from. The family apparatus of course! (Foucault or Agamben). This is how the banks want you to live, since they believe that this will lead you to pay your mortgage. So wanna be politically conscious? Break down the walls, or rename the rooms. Call the kitchen, the toilet, call the garage the Riviera. Move the car into the master bedroom. Turn the Tallboy on its head, and the chest on its drawer…put your recycled garbage in your brothers’ bed…wait and see…can you feel it: true p.c.

Monday, November 28 at 5:02pm

First to Swift: Wrong of course, seeing yourself is the gate to narcissism, and delusion, since what you see ain’t you (Lacan). So the question: just look at the apartment you live in (or house if you prefer) and wonder where those room labels and wall divisions came from. The family apparatus of course! (Foucault or Agamben). This is how the banks want you to live, since they believe that this will lead you to pay your mortgage. So wanna be politically conscious? Break down the walls, or rename the rooms. Call the kitchen, the toilet, call the garage the Riviera. Move the car (riviera?) into the master bedroom. Turn the tallboy on its head, and the chest on its drawer…put your recycled garbage in your brothers’ bed…wait and see…can you feel it: true p.c.

Monday, November 28 at 5:13pm

This question may be answered relative to the architectural process which ultimately shapes the final architectural product, be it structure or landscape. First, politics is fundamentally about engaging people and accommodating or reconciling their viewpoints, usually towards a goal or end. Politics inserts itself from the very beginning in the architectural process in the inherent compromises and conversations between architect and client, both of whom may have different opinions at different stages of the process concerning the structure or landscape, but ultimately reconcile these opinions in pursuit of the final product. Subsequently, the opinions and viewpoints of others, including the design, engineering, and zoning rules of the public polity, must be taken into account and the final product adjusted or reconciled to reflect these mandates or values of the community. In the midst of the process, neighbors and the public at large may also weigh in, quite vocally at times, and the process and final product may be shaped even further to accommodate their viewpoints. Ultimately, the final structure or landscape might be viewed as a series of political compromises reflecting the viewpoints of various constituencies, public or private.

Tuesday, November 29 at 11:52am

Seeking to instigate consciousness is a difficult proposition, beginning with defining the word ‘consciousness’ in the phrase ‘political and social consciousness’.

Consciousness cannot be the imposition of one value system over another, though it also cannot be moral relativism that equals meaninglessness. Still, my ‘consciousness’ may not be yours. This is not a satisfactory conclusion. But it seems to be where we are, where political discourse is at this moment.

Just the other day, I saw a recently closed restaurant in rural Vermont. The place was called Kinfolk’s Kuntry Restaurant. It had a sign in the window that read “Closed till sold. Retired. Thank you Everyone. Elaine Graves, owner”. The simple gratitude of the owner expressed in the note cut through the kitschy cornball name of the place. Related to the ideas about intimacy in Danielle Aubert’s response about Lafayette Park, this building, Elaine’s building – specifically the loose narrative deduced from the sign on it’s door – conjured close-knit community, friendship, relationships.

The notion of community doesn’t necessarily imply social consciousness but it does suggest people wrestling with choices, ethical quandaries large and small, local and distant, simple and complex, and issues of caring for and about others. But what about sense of purpose, responsibility, engagement, cooperation, equity, equality, justice? Can these be located in, embedded in, or propelled forward by building structures?

I’m still a lover and believer in the social implications of the International Style as exemplified by Mies van der Rohe’s (Mies again!) Post Office in downtown Chicago, as a platform for everyday activity at street level with total visibility, as citizen performance.

Wednesday, November 30 at 10:25am

Comment submitted by Rebecca Miller via email:

“Satire is at its best when it is privately satirizing the satirist. Without that, you just have sadism. And I can think of plenty of sadistic architecture.”

Thursday, December 1 at 9:57am

As an architect, based in the UK I feel that architecture can be open to political and social issues across any point in the design process, and that this openness can manifest itself in many different ways (often to the point of exploitation on public projects)

It can however also be almost completely closed to any kind of political or social intervention should the architect, in wishing to please their client or simply please themself, so desire. This would perhaps lead to a question of whether designing and building without social or political consiousness can result in ‘architecture’ or simply spaces and buildings without any kind of agenda, and certainly these kinds of spaces exist.

Thursday, December 1 at 7:02pm