Architecture. Dialectic. Synthesis

Architecture as a Second Body

For a better understanding of the essence of the architectural form, let's compare it with the sculptural form. For this purpose, let us turn to the reasoning of Aleksei Losev in his "Dialectic of Artistic Form":

"…What is the difference between a sculptural form and an architectural one? To say that the difference lies in the material is ridiculous and strange. To say that one depicts people, and the other protects people from precipitation, is also ridiculous, because sculptures can have features protecting from precipitation, and architecture can depict a living being, something like the famous Trojan horse2. What is the difference, then? I see it only in the fact that architecture organizes pure materiality, that is, mass, volume and density, pure facticity and positedness, fixedness. There is nothing like that in the sculpture. Architecture gives weight to pure materiality, massive three-dimensional dense space, and presents space as a force field. That's why the architectural form is attributed to the first dialectical category in the general sphere of tectonism, to the category that speaks only of pure positing, pure potency, of the one, which as such is above all formalization, because it establishes and generates this formalization. Being reflected on the fourth principle, this principle gives, as we saw in paragraph 2, the categories of mass, volume and density. Architecture is the art of pure mass, pure volume and pure density, as well as their various designs and combinations. And the most important thing is that we thought of the fourth principle, as we remember, only as a carrier, a container of meaning, not meaningful in itself, but only positing, really fixing the intelligent element of pure meaning. Therefore, the architectural form is always the form of a carrier, a container of something else, more internal. An architectural work is architectural one not because it is a dwelling, a temple, and nature, but because its dialectical place is in the realm of pure hypostatization and positedness of meaning, from which it is clear why it is always a container. Sculpture, on the other hand, does not deal with space as such, that is, spreading as such. What is important to it is not the weight distribution itself in its qualitative nature, but what exactly is spread out, the single units that are spread out in a weighty way in space. If an architectural work is always a container, then in sculpture we already see what exactly is contained in the body, although not without the body, because otherwise it would be painting, poetry or music. Hence, in my classification, this form belongs to the category of incarnation of the second principle in the fourth one. The second principle, eidos, is precisely the semantic "what" of every incarnation in the sphere of tectonism. – Such is the dialectical structure of sculptural and architectural forms.3"

Architecture is a container, and the ability to contain is the main property of space. Space is primarily characterized by the ability to accommodate things, both at rest and moving. Therefore, architecture can be defined as a form of space, a material form of space. The sculptural form is the form of the material. Sculpture needs space as a sphere of its existence, while architecture is engaged in shaping this space. It explains the famous aphorism of Nikolai Ladovsky: "Space, not stone, is the material of architecture.4" Space is the subject of architectural activity, well-formed space is the goal of architecture, and materials and structures are the means to achieve this goal. Architecture obviously follows the path of liberation from materials and structures by striving to create structures that realize any form. Architect Leonid Pavlov spoke about this, crystallizing his thoughts in the paradox of the fundamental immateriality of architecture. Architecture, in the limit, strives to entirely free itself from the dictates of material and structures, and to become the architecture of certain force fields, etc. Of course, this means liberation from coarse material (metal, glass, concrete, etc.), and not from matter as such. The force field is also more subtle matter. And architecture always remains the material arrangement of a space containing people and nature. The means of architecture are evolving, but its meaning and purpose remain unchanged. In such a way, the form of the living space is created.

In the system of dialectics of the artistic form developed by Losev, architecture is 5quite logically attributed to the first semantic principle, since architecture is the most general unifying basis for all other arts. The basis is the first principle of Meaning in Losev's triad of Basis, Form, and Action6.

On the other hand, the dialectic of human activity derived from anthropology justifies the location of architecture precisely in the fourth semantic principle, since it is thought of precisely as embodying the Triune Meaning, as the body of Meaning7, and Losev quite rightly insists on physicality as the fundamental quality of architecture8. In addition, clarifying the brilliantly clear and simple Losev's definition of architecture as a container, it should be pointed out that architecture is precisely the container of the body, and, even more specifically, of the human body. Architecture reveals its meaning not just as a container, but as a container of the human body in its life and functioning. After all, a tree hollow accommodates a woodpecker, but it is not an architectural phenomenon. Further, as we understand essence of architecture in this way, it is necessary to establish a semantic connection between the building, the house as a unit of architecture and the human body. This connection is remarkably illustrated by Fr. Pavel Florensky. Developing the idea of so-called organoprojection, which is that "tools expand the scope of our activity and our senses by continuing our body," the 9philosopher writes: "Let us now turn to the synthetic tool that combines many tools and, fundamentally speaking, all tools. This tool is a dwelling, a house. All the tools are collected n the house, as the center, or are located at the house, near it, related to it, they serve it. What is the projection of a dwelling? What exactly is projected by it? By its design, the dwelling should combine the totality of our tools – our entire household. And if each tool separately is a reflection of some organ of our body from one side or the other, then the whole set of economy, as one organized whole, is a reflection of the whole set of functional organs, in their coordination. Consequently, the dwelling has the whole body in its entirety as its prototype. Here we recall the common comparison of the body with the house of the soul, with the dwelling of the mind. The body is likened to a dwelling, for the dwelling itself is a reflection of the body. <…> A house is like a body, and different parts of household equipment analogically correspond to body organs. The water supply system corresponds to the circulatory system, the electric wires of bells, telephones, etc. correspond to the nervous system, the furnace corresponds to the lungs, the chimney corresponds to the throat, etc., etc.10 And it is clear that it cannot be otherwise. After all, when we dwell in a house with the whole body, we accommodate ourselves in there with all our organs. Consequently, the satisfaction of each of the organs, that is, giving it the opportunity to act, occurs only through the house, and therefore the house must be a system of tools that extend all the organs.11"

It follows from the reasoning of Fr. Pavel Florensky that architecture is an organization and arrangement of the human economy in material structural shells. The economy is the unfolding of the body's functions in their entirety.

It is logical to extrapolate the meaning of the house as an extension of the entire human body to the entire architecture and think of it as the dwelling of humanity and the home of humanity's physicality. Architecture is, therefore, the continuation and unfolding of physicality in nature. This is the main essence of architecture in relation to the body category. Thus, in the dialectic of human activity, architecture correlates with the fourth principle of meaning, which is presented clearer in the table of concepts below.

Let us briefly summarize Losev's dialectic of man and his activities.

The category of architecture follows from the category of the human body, in relation to which nature is considered as otherness. Architecture arises as a result of placing the human physicality to other-worldly nature.

Hence, in order to clarify the dialectical basis of architecture, it is necessary to consider the place of the category of the body in the dialectic of man. According to A. Losev12, the dialectic of man is revealed in the following pentad:

1) Heart; 2) Mind; 3) Aspiration; 4) Body; 5) Person.

The body here acts as a substance that implements the triune elements of the heart, mind and aspiration. In the sphere of human activity, it will correspond to the triad of religion, science and art. Religion is the only element that captures the last depth of a person's being – the heart, and which calls for bringing this heart as a gift to the Absolute. Science results from the activity of the mind. Aspiration expresses itself in thirst and search for beauty, taking shape in art. In man, the heart, mind, and aspiration embody the body, and in human activity, religion, science, and art are embodied by architecture. This is also where Vitruvius' famous triad comes from – durability, usefulness, beauty, embodied in an architectural form. Thus, the following dialectical series arise:

The proposed system provides a solid basis for the widespread definition of architecture as a synthesis of science and art. Many books on architecture highlight the combination of scientific, technical and artistic principles in architecture as its distinctive feature. This means that architecture is neither a science nor an art, but a dialectical synthesis of both.

We will return to the triad of Vitruvius later, since now it is still necessary to highlight a number of significant points and historical explanations to the established basic understanding of architecture as human corporeality in nature.

So, architecture is not a second nature, but a second body, the second corporeality of humanity, it is the otherness of the human body in nature, its continuation and development, the unfolding of the body in nature. It results in the anthropomorphism of architecture as its main characteristic for many centuries.

Vitruvius refers to the human body as an example of artistic proportionality, arguing that "a beautiful building should be built "like a well-built man." Similarly, Michelangelo asserts that "the parts of an architectural whole are in the same ratio as the parts of the human body, and those who did not know and do not know the structure of the human body in the anatomical sense cannot understand this." He compares the exterior of the building with the face, which is primarily the exterior of the body. "If there are different parts in the plan," Michelangelo wrote, "then all similar parts in quality and quantity should be decorated and ornamented in the same way. If one part changes, then it is not only allowed, but also necessary to change its ornamentation, as well as of the respective parts. The main part is always free, like the nose, located in the middle of the face, it is not connected to either one or the other eye; the hand should be like the other one, and one eye should be like the other.13"

Architecture was developed based on the assimilation to the human body in Ancient Greece, as well as in Ancient Russia – and to an even greater extent, since not only individual parts of the temple (columns) are compared to the body here, but the temple as a whole. But even then, when architecture (the building as a whole, its parts) does not evoke associations with the forms of the human body, it is still, in its deep meaning, the mode of existence of human physicality in nature. It's about the meaning, not the external resemblance. Modern architecture, which has moved away from anthropomorphism, nevertheless cannot but unfold the body in nature. Externally, the architecture of a particular era may not only not express the similarity with parts of the human body, but also, on the contrary, show something superhuman and exceeding the immediate physicality. So, Egyptian architecture is distinguished by a certain grandiose power, with which a "little" man is incommensurable. But it was in Egypt that architecture had, like nowhere else, such a huge mythological significance – to realize and materialize human immortality through the preservation of the body. According to well-known Egyptian beliefs, only those whose bodies remained intact were awarded with the afterlife. The thick walls of the tombs and pyramids were a guarantee of eternal life: the trap system was an actual protection from robbers, from damage to the Pharaoh's body and memorial furnishings, and the durable stone both symbolized and materialized the idea of eternity.

Architecture as a Materialized Worldview

The developed understanding of architecture as second physicality is insufficient since the a man is irreducible to the body. Architecture fulfills the human desire for the fullness of being. After all, man is not only a body, but a conscious and self-conscious body, a spiritual being no less than a material one. As a thinking person, it is typical for a person to build a worldview, philosophy as a complete system of knowledge, beliefs and values. As a material being, man is characterized by the desire to realize and materialize his worldview and his philosophy, to translate it from the realm of meaning into the realm of being. Philosophy does not want to remain a pure mental construct, even if it is expressed on paper or in a painting, but it longs to be embodied, expressed in matter, materialized. Moreover, the worldview embodied and realized "in stone" turns out to be the shell, a kind of castle in which a person lives, and through the prism of which he perceives existence. In this regard, architecture turns out to be a model of the universe, a microcosm in which a person places himself not just as a place of protection from precipitation, but as a philosophical concept clothed in material forms and structures. And vice versa, philosophy can be viewed as the architecture of the mental world, and each philosophical concept can be viewed as a house in which its creator or admirer lives with his mind. Each piece of architecture can be considered as a worldview of the epoch expressed "in stone". The building of a great architect is similar to the philosophical work of an outstanding thinker. In connection with this mutual understanding of architecture in philosophy, and philosophy in architecture, Plato's thought is interesting. "When Plato builds his cosmology,– observes A. Losev, – he considers the material elements, together with their inherent design, as "building materials" for space (Tim. 69 a), which, obviously, is thought of here as a huge work of architectural art. Plato also tends to represent his Good, among other symbolic interpretations, in the form of a huge architectural work…"14. In their turn, on the basis of comparing the cosmos with an architectural work, some Christian saints showed the absurdity of atheism. So, St. John Chrysostom argues as follows: "There is no God. But if there is no foundation, how did the building appear? There is no creator of the house: how is the house built? There is no architect: who built the city?… There is no Creator: where does the world come from and how does it exist?" The same argument was formulated in an aphorism by D. S. Likhachev: "Consciousness precedes the materialization of ideas. God is a great Architect."

The importance of approaching architecture as a "worldview in stone" is confirmed by both ancient and modern architectural history. Architects of the twentieth century began their creative activity by putting forward concepts and manifestos, the ideas of which sometimes consciously and unconsciously turned out to be a resurrection of the old ideas of classical philosophers of Antiquity, the Middle Ages, and Modern times. So, functionalism was a kind of resurrection (albeit in a significantly distorted form) of Socrates' old idea of beauty as usefulness. L. Mies van der Rohe followed the principles of Descartes' rational method in his design15. This suggests that it is impossible to understand architecture without understanding its philosophical roots, and it is philosophical ideas that become the formative paradigms of architectural creativity.

This idea sounds even more vivid against the background of historical evidence of people's unwillingness to save on architecture. In ancient times, huge funds were allocated for architectural works, even if the state was not rich. Thus, the construction of magnificent pyramids and temples in Egypt, for which the pharaohs spared no expense, was one of the reasons for the depletion of the Egyptian state; Pericles devoted 80% of the state budget to the restoration of the Athenian Acropolis; in Rome, huge funds were spent on amphitheaters and the spectacles staged in them. "The stingy Vespasian built the world's greatest amphitheater… Except, perhaps, Tiberius, all the emperors, one might say, only competed in luxury, in splendor, in the size and variety of the spectacles they staged.… All these spectacles are a wonderful example of how it is impossible to explain any art form", including architectural one, in a vulgar economic way. 16 To this set of examples, we can add the phenomenon of skyscrapers, which, starting from 30-50 floors, are economically unprofitable17, which does not stop countries and companies from competing in physical highness.

Thus, the main role in explaining the architectural form is played by a person's worldview and world perception, and architecture can be defined as the materialization of a mentality. It should be noted that the materialization of ideology does not necessarily occur directly and im mediately as an implementation of the task set by the architect to express certain ideological principles, but it can be carried out indirectly. The "ideology in stone" can be fairly seen where, it would seem, everything is due to purely economic reasons. An illustrative example is the so-called "sleeping districts", serial houses that are built up on the outskirts of large Russian cities. On the one hand, their monotony is due to the haste in solving the housing problem caused by the influx of rural population into the cities. And at the same time, these "monotonous cells" express the Soviet ideology of "one comb" and the principle of "keep your head down."

Another common attempt to determine the architectural form is to explain it in terms of climatic conditions. The simplest definition of architecture says that it is a set of structures designed to protect humans from atmospheric phenomena. The need to take shelter in bad weather sometimes explains the very origin of architecture. Without denying the essential role of weather and climatic conditions in form generation, it should nevertheless be emphasized that it is not decisive either in the origin or in the development of architecture. Architecture would undoubtedly have arisen in such a hypothetical case if the climate and weather were favorable everywhere. After all, there are many buildings and structures (for example, religious ones), the appearance of which is in no way due to these factors. There is a well-known idea that if the Greeks had built a temple on Olympus, where it never rained, it would still have had a pediment. Rain causes only the sloping nature of the roof, but there are many specific options for sloping roofs. This means that when completing the temple with a roof with two symmetrical slopes, the Greek architect was guided not by meteorological knowledge, but by the principles of his worldview. The form-generating action of the architect becomes an act of expressing a worldview that is not constrained by either climatic conditions or economic opportunities.