Towards a Critical Regionalism:

Six Points for an Architecture of Resistance

KENNETH FRAMPTON

The phenomenon of universalization, while being an advancement of man-

kind, at the same time constitutes a sort of subtle destruction, not only of
traditional cultures, which might not be an irreparable wrong, but also of
what I shall call for the time being the creative nucleus of great cultures, that
nucleus on the basis of which we interpret life, what I shall call in advance
the ethical and mythical nucleus of mankind. The conflict springs up from
there. We have the feeling that this single world civilization at the same time
exerts a sort of attrition or wearing away at the expense of the cultural
resources which have made the great civilizations of the past. This threat is
expressed, among other disturbing effects, by the spreading before our eyes
of a mediocre civilization which is the absurd counterpart of what I was just
calling elementary culture. Everywhere throughout the world, one finds the
same bad movie, the same slot machines, the same plastic or aluminum
atrocities, the same twisting of language by propaganda, etc. It seems as if
mankind, by approaching en masse a basic consumer culture, were also
stopped en masse at a subcultural level. Thus we come to the crucial
problem confronting nations just rising from underdevelopment. In order to
get on to the road toward modernization, is it necessary to jettison the old
cultural past which has been the raison d'etre of a nation? ... Whence the
paradox: on the one hand, it has to root itself in the soil of its past, forge a
national spirit, and unfurl this spiritual and cultural revindication before
the colonialist's personality. But in order to take part in modern civilization,
it is necessary at the same time to take part in scientific, technical, l Jd
political rationality, something which very often requires the pure and
simple abandon of a whole cultural past. It is a fact.' every culture cannot
sustain and absorb the sh~ck of modern civilization. There is the paradox:
how to become n ~dern and to return to sources; how to revive an old,
dormant civilization and' ake part in universal civilization. 1
-Paul Ricoeuf, History and Truth

16
 1. Culture and Civilization

Modern building is now so universally conditioned by optimized technology

that the possibility of creating significant urban form has become extremely
limited. The restrictions jointly imposed by automoti ve distribution and the
volatile play of land speculation serve to limit the scope of urban design to
such a degree that any intervention tends to be reduced either to the
manipulation of elements predetermined by the imperatives of production,
or to a kind of superficial masking which modern development requires for
the facilitation of marketing and the maintenance of social control. Today
the practice of architecture seems to be increasingly polarized between, on
the one hand, a so-called "high-tech" approach predicated exclusively
upon production and, on the other, the provision of a "compensatory
facade" to cover up the harsh realities of this universal system.2
Twenty years ago the dialectical interplay between civilization and
culture still afforded the possibility of maintaining some general control
over the shape and significance of the urban fabric. The last two decades,
however, have radically transformed the metropolitan centers of the
developed world. What were still essentially 19th-century city fabrics in the
early 1960s have since become progressively overlaid by the two symbiotic
instruments of Megalopolitan development-the freestanding high-rise and
the serpentine freeway. The former has finally come into its own as the
prime device for realizing the increased land value brought into being by the
latter. The typical downtown which, up to twenty years ago, still presented a
mixture of residential stock with tertiary and secondary industry has now
become little more than a burolandschaft city-scape: the victory of uni versal
civilization over locally inflected culture. The predicament posed by
Ricoeur-namely, "how to become modern and to return to sources" 3 _
now seems to be circumvented by the apocalyptic thrust of modernization,
while the ground in which the my tho-ethical nucleus of a society might take
root has become eroded by the rapacity of development. 4
Ever since the beginning of the Enlightenment, civilization has been
primarily concerned with instrumental reason, while culture has addressed
itself to the specifics of expression-to the realization of the being and the
evolution of its collective psycho-social reality. Today civilization tends to
be increasingly embroiled in a never-ending chain of "means and ends"
Wherein, according to Hannah Arendt, "The 'in order to' has become the
content of the 'for the sake of;' utility established as meaning generates
meaninglessness." 5
 2. The Rise and Fall of the Avant-Garde

The emergence of the avant-garde is inseparable from the modernization of

both society and architecture. Over the past century-and-a-half avant-garde
culture has assumed different roles, at times facilitating the process of
modernization and thereby acting, in part, as a progressive, liberative form,
at times being virulently opposed to the positivism of bourgeois culture. By
and large, avant-garde architecture has played a positive role with regard to
the progressive trajectory of the Enlightenment. Exemplary of this is the role
played by Neoclassicism: from the mid-18th century onwards it serves as
both a symbol of and an instrument for the propagation of universal
civilization. The mid-19th century, however, saw the historical avant-garde
assume an adversary stance towards both industrial process and Neoclassical
form. This is the first concerted reaction on the part of "tradition" to the
process of modernization as the Gothic Revival and the Arts-and-Crafts
movements take up a categorically negative attitude towards both utilitarian-
ism and the division of labor. Despite this critique, modernization continues
unabated, and throughout the last half of the 19th century bourgeois art
distances itself progressively from the harsh realities of colonialism and
paleo-technological exploitation. Thus at the end of the century the avant-
gardist Art Nouveau takes refuge in the compensatory thesis of" art for art's
sake," retreating to nostalgic or phantasmagoric dream-worlds inspired by
the cathartic hermeticism of Wagner's music-drama.
The progressive avant-garde emerges in full force, however, soon after
the turn of the century with the advent of Futurism. This unequivocal
critique of the ancien regime gives rise to the primary positive cultural
formations of the 1920s: to Purism, Neoplasticism and Constructivism.
These movements are the last occasion on which radical avant-gardism is
able to identify itself wholeheartedly with the process of modernization. In
the immediate aftermath of World War I-"the war to end all wars"-the
triumphs of science, medicine and industry seemed to confirm the liberative
promise of the modern project. In the 1930s, however, the prevailing
backwardness and chronic insecurity of the newly urbanized masses, the
upheavals caused by war, revolution and economic depression, followed by
a sudden and crucial need for psycho-social stability in the face of global
political and economic crises, all induce a state of affairs in which the
interests of both monopoly and state capitalism are, for the first time in
modern history, divorced from the liberative drives of cultural moderniza-
tion. Universal civilization and world culture cannot be drawn upon to
sustain "the myth of the State," and one reaction-formation succeeds
another as the historical avant-garde founders on the rocks of the Spanish
Civil War.
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 19

Not least among these reactions is the reassertion of Neo-Kantian

aesthetics as a substitute for the culturally liberative modern project.
Confused by the political and cultural politics of Stalinism, former left-wing
protagonists of socio-cultural modernization now recommend a strategic
withdrawal from the project of ~otally transforming the existing reality. This
renunciation is predicated on the belief that as long as the struggle between
socialism and capitalism persists (with the manipulative mass-culture
politics that this conflict necessarily entails), the modern world cannot
continue to entertain the prospect of evolving a marginal, liberative, avant-
gardist culture which would break (or speak of the break) with the history of
bourgeois repression. Close to [' art pour l' art, this position was first
advanced as a "holding pattern" in Clement Greenberg's" Avant-Garde
and Kitsch" of 1939; this essay concludes somewhat ambiguously with the
words: "Today we look to socialism simply for the preservation of whatever
living culture we have right now." 6 Greenberg reformulated this position in
specifically formalist terms in his essay "Modernist Painting" of 1965,
wherein he wrote:
Having been denied by the Enlightenment of all tasks they could take
seriously, they [the arts] looked as though they were going to be assimilated to
entertainment pure and simple, and entertainment looked as though it was
going to be assimilated, like religion, to therapy. The arts could save
themselves from this leveling down only by demonstrating that the kind of
experience they provided was valuable in its own right and not to be obtained
from any other kind of activity?

Despite this defensive intellectual stance, the arts have nonetheless

continued to gravitate, if not towards entertainment, then certainly towards
commodity and-in the case of that which Charles Jencks has since
classified as Post-Modern ArchitectureS-towards pure technique or pure
scenography_ In the latter case, the so-called postmodern architects are
merely feeding the media~society with gratuitous, quietistic images rather
than proffering, as they claim, a creative rappel a t ordre after the
supposedly proven bankruptcy of the liberative modern project. In this
regard, as Andreas Huyssens has written, "The American postmodernist
avant-garde, therefore, is not only the end game of avant-gardism. It also
represents the fragmentation and decline of critical adversary culture." 9
Nevertheless, it is true that modernization can no longer be simplistically
identified as liberative in se, in part because of the domination of mass
culture by the media-industry (above all television which, as Jerry Mander
reminds us, expanded its persuasive power a thousandfold between 1945 and
1975 10 ) and in part because the trajectory of modernization has brought us to
the threshold of nuclear war and the annihilation of the entire species. So
too, avant-gardism can no longer be sustained as a liberative moment, in part
20 The Anti-Aesthetic

because its initial utopian promise has been overrun by the internal
rationality of instrumental reason. This "closure" was perhaps best
formulated by Herbert Marcuse when he wrote:
The technological apriori is a political apriori inasmuch as the transformation
of nature involves that of man, and inasmuch as the "man-made creations"
issue from and re-enter the societal ensemble. One may still insist that the
machinery of the technological universe is "as such" indifferent towards
political ends-it can revolutionize or retard society.... However, when
technics becomes the universal form of material production, it circumscribes
an entire culture, it projects a historical totality-a "world." 11

3. Critical Regionalism and World Culture

Architecture can only be sustained today as a critical practice if it assumes an

arriere-garde position, that is to say, one which distances itself equally
from the Enlightenment myth of progress and from a reactionary, unrealistic
impulse to return to the architectonic forms of the preindustrial past. A
critical arriere-garde has to remove itself from both the optimization of
advanced technology and the ever-present tendency to regress into nostalgic
historicism or the glibly decorative. It is my contention that only an arriere-
garde has the capacity to cultivate a resistant, identity-giving culture while at
the same time having discreet recourse to universal technique.
It is necessary to qualify the term arriere-garde so as to diminish its critical
scope from such conservative policies as Populism or sentimental Regional-
ism with which it has often been associated. In order to ground arriere-
gardism in a rooted yet critical strategy, it is helpful to appropriate the term
Critical Regionalism as coined by Alex Tzonis and Liliane Lefaivre in "The
Grid and the Pathway" (1981); in this essay they caution against the
ambiguity of regional reformism, as this has become occasionally manifest
since the last quarter of the 19th century:
Regionalism has dominated architecture in almost all countries at some time
during the past two centuries and a half. By way of general definition we can
say that it upholds the individual and local architectonic features against more
universal and abstract ones. In addition, however, regionalism bears the
hallmark of ambiguity. On the one hand, it has been associated with
movements of reform and liberation; ... on the other, it has proved a powerful
tool of repression and chauvinism .... Certainly, critical regionalism has its
limitations. The upheaval of the populist movement-a more developed form
of regionalism-has brought to light these weak points. No new architecture
can emerge without a new kind of relations between designer and user, with-
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 21

out new kinds of programs .... Despite these li mitations critical regionalism is
a bridge over which any humanistic architecture of the future must pass. 12

The fundamental strategy of Critical Regionalism is to mediate the impact of

universal civilization with elements derived indirectly from the peculiarities
of a particular place. It is clear from the above that Critical Regionalism
depends upon maintaining a high level of critical self-consciousness. It may
find its governing inspiration in such things as the range and quality of the
local light, or in a tectonic derived from a peculiar structural mode, or in the
topography of a given site.
But it is necessary, as I have already suggested, to distinguish between
Critical Regionalism and simple-minded attempts to revive the hypothetical
forms of a lost vernacular. In contradistinction to Critical Regionalism, the
primary vehicle of Populism is the communicative or instrumental sign.
Such a sign seeks to evoke not a critical perception of reality, but rather the
sublimation of a desire for direct experience through the provision of
information. Its tactical aim is to attain, as economically as possible, a
preconceived level of gratification in behavioristic terms. In this respect, the
strong affinity of Populism for the rhetorical techniques and imagery of
advertising is hardly accidental. Unless one guards against such a
convergence, one will confuse the resistant capacity of a critical practice
with the demagogic tendencies of Populism.
The case can be made that Critical Regionalism as a cultural strategy is as
much a bearer of world culture as it is a vehicle of universal civilization.
And while it is obviously misleading to conceive of our inheriting world
culture to the same degree as we are all heirs to universal civilization, it is
nonetheless evident that since we are, in principle, subject to the impact of
both, we have no choice but to take cognizance today of their interaction. In
this regard the practice of Critical Regionalism is contingent upon a process
of double mediation. In the first place, it has to "deconstruct" the overall
spectrum of world culture which it inevitably inherits; in the second place, it
has to achieve, through synthetic contradiction, a manifest critique of
universal civilization. To deconstruct world culture is to remove oneself
from that eclecticism of the fin de sieele which appropriated alien, exotic
forms in order to revitalize the expressivity of an enervated society. (One
thinks of the "form-force" aesthetics of Henri van de Velde or the
"whiplash-Arabesques" of Victor Horta.) On the other hand, the mediation
of universal technique involves imposing limits on the optimization of
industrial and postindustrial technology. The future necessity for re-
synthesizing principles and elements drawn from diverse origins and quite
different ideological sets seems to be alluded to by Ricoeur when he writes:
No one can say what will become of our civilization when it has really met
different civilizations by means other than the shock of conquest and
22 The Anti-Aesthetic

domination. But we have to admit that this encounter has not yet taken place at
the level of an authentic dialogue. That is why we are in a kind of lull or
interregnum in which we can no longer practice the dogmatism of a single
truth and in which we are not yet capable of conquering the skepticism into
which we have stepped. 13
A parallel and complementary sentiment was expressed by the Dutch
architect Aldo Van Eyck who, quite coincidentally, wrote at the same time:
"Western civilization habitually identifies itself with civilization as such on
the pontificial assumption that what is not like it is a deviation, less
advanced, primitive, or, at best, exotically interesting at a safe distance." 14
That Critical Regionalism cannot be simply based on the autochthonous
forms of a specific region alone was well put by the Californian architect
Hamilton Harwell Harris when he wrote, now nearly thirty years ago:
Opposed to the Regionalism of Restriction is another type of regional ism, the
Regionalism of Liberation. This is the manifestation of a region that is
especially in tune with the emerging thought of the time. We call such a
manifestation "regional" only because it has not yet emerged elsewhere ....
A region may develop ideas. A region may accept ideas. Imagination and
intelligence are necessary for both. In California in the late Twenties and
Thirties modern European ideas met a still-developing regionalism. In New
England, on the other hand, European Modernism met a rigid and restrictive
regionalism that at first resisted and then surrendered. New England accepted
European Modernism whole because its own regionalism had been reduced to
a collection of restrictions. ls
The scope for achieving a self-conscious synthesis between universal
civilization and world culture may be specifically illustrated by J~rn Utzon's
Bagsvaerd Church, built near Copenhagen in 1976, a work whose complex
meaning sterns directly from a revealed conjunction between, on the one
hand, the rationality of normative technique and, on the other, the
arationality of idiosyncratic form. Inasmuch as this building is organized
around a regular grid and is comprised of repetitive, in-fill modules-
concrete blocks in the first instance and precast concrete wall units in the
second-we may justly regard it as the outcome of universal civilization.
Such a building system, comprising an in situ concrete frame with
prefabricated concrete in-fill elements, has indeed been applied countless
times all over the developed world. However, the universality of this
productive method- which includes, in this instance, patent glazing on the
roof - is abruptly mediated when one passes from the optimal modular skin
of the exterior to the far less optimal reinforced concrete shell vault spanning
the nave. This last is obviously a relatively uneconomic mode of
construction, selected and manipulated first for its direct associative
capacity-that is to say, the vault signifies sacred space-and second for its
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 23

-- -
f--- ~ r==
i==

i-~--=:r-f-~

I ' ~

J~m UtZOfl, Bagsvaerd Church, 1973-76.

North elevation and section.

multiple cross-cultural references. While the reinforced concrete shell vault

has long since held an established place within the received tectonic canon of
Western modern architecture, the highly configurated section adopted in
this instance is hardly familiar, and the only precedent for such a form, in a
sacred context, is Eastern rather than Western-namely, the Chinese
pagoda roof, cited by Utzon in his seminal essay of 1963, "Platforms and
Plateaus." 16 Although the main Bagsvaerd vault spontaneously signifies
its religious nature, it does so in such a way as to preclude an exclusively
Occidental or Oriental reading of the code by which the public and sacred
space is constituted. The intent of this expression is, of course, to secularize
the sacred form by precluding the usual set of semantic religious references
and thereby the corresponding range of automatic responses that usually
accompany them. This is arguably a more appropriate way of rendering a
church in a highly secular age, where any symbolic allusion to the
ecclesiastic usually degenerates immediately into the vagaries of kitsch.
And yet paradoxically, this desacralization at Bagsvaerd subtly reconstitutes
a renewed basis for the spiritual, one founded, I would argue, in a regional
reaffirmation-grounds, at least, for some form of collective spirituality.
 4. The Resistance of the Place-Form

The Megalopolis recognized as such in 1961 by the geographer Jean

Gottman 1 7 continues to proliferate throughout the developed world to such
an extent that, with the exception of cities which were laid in place before the
turn of the century, we are no longer able to maintain defined urban forms.
The last quarter of a century has seen the so-called field of urban design
degenerate into a theoretical subject whose discourse bears little relation to
the processal realities of modern development. Today even the super-
managerial discipline of urban planning has entered into a state of crisis. The
ultimate fate of the plan which was officially promulgated for the rebuilding
of Rotterdam after World War II is symptomatic in this regard, since it
testifies, in terms of its own recently changed status, to the current tendency
to reduce all planning to little more than the allocation of land use and the
logistics of distribution. Until relatively recently, the Rotterdam master plan
was revised and upgraded every decade in the light of buildings which had
been realized in the interim. In 1975, however, this progressive urban
cultural procedure was unexpectedly abandoned in favor of publishing a
nonphysical, infrastructure plan conceived at a regional scale. Such a plan
concerns itself almost exclusively with the logistical projection of changes
in land use and with the augmentation of existing distribution systems.
In his essay of 1954, "Building, Dwelling, Thinking," Martin Heidegger
provides us with a critical vantage point from which to behold this phenom-
enon of universal placelessness. Against the Latin or, rather, the antique
abstract concept of space as a more or less endless continuum of evenly
subdivided spatial components or integers~what he terms spatium and
extensio-Heidegger opposes the German word for space (or, rather,
place), which is the term Raum. Heidegger argues that the phenoinenologi-
cal essence of such a space/place depends upon the concrete, clearly defined
nature of its boundary, for, as he puts it, "A boundary is not that at which
something stops, but, as-the Greeks recognized, the boundary is that from
which something begins its presencing." 18 Apart from confirming that
Western abstract reason has its origins in the antique culture of the
Mediterranean, Heidegger shows that etymologically the German gerund
building is closely linked with the archaic forms of being, cultivating and
dwelling, and goes on to state that the condition of "dwelling" and hence
ultimately of "being" can only take place in a domain that is clearly
bounded.
While we may well remain skeptical as to the merit of grounding critical
practice in a concept so hermetically metaphysical as Being, we are, when
confronted with the ubiquitous placelessness of our modern environment,
nonetheless brought to posit, after Heidegger, the absolute precondition of a
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 25

bounded domain in order to create an architecture of resistance. Only such a

defined boundary will permit the built form to stand against-and hence
literally to withstand in an institutional sense- the endless processal flux of
the Megalopolis.
The bounded place-form, in its public mode, is also essential to what
Hannah Arendt has termed "the space of human appearance," since the
evolution of legitimate power has always been predicated upon the existence
of the "polis" and upon comparable units of institutional and physical form.
While the political life of the Greek polis did not stem directly from the
physical presence and representation of the city-state, it displayed in
contrast to the Megalopolis the cantonal attributes of urban density. Thus
Arendt writes in The Human" Condition:
The only indispensable material factor in the generation of power is the living
together of people. Only where men live so close together that the
potentialities for action are always present will power remain with them and
the foundation of cities, which as city states have remained paradigmatic for
all Western political organization, is therefore the most important material
prereq uisi te for power.19

Nothing could be more removed from the political essence of the city-
state than the rationalizations of positivistic urban planners such as Melvin
Webber, whose ideological concepts of community without propinquity and
the non-place urban realm are nothing if not slogans devised to rationalize
the absence of any true public realm in the modern motopia.20 The
manipulative bias of such ideologies has never been more openly expressed
than in Robert Venturi's Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture
(1966) wherein the author asserts that Americans do not need piazzas, since
they should be at home watching television .21 Such reactionary attitudes
emphasize the impotence of an urbanized populace which has paradoxically
lost the object of its urbanization.
While the strategy of Critical Regionalism as outlined above addresses
itself mainly to the maintenance of an expressive density and resonance in
an architecture of resistance (a cultural density which under today's condi-
tions could be said to be potentially liberative in and of itself since it opens
the user to manifold experiences), the provision of a place-form is equally
essential to critical practice, inasmuch as a resistant architecture, in an
institutional sense, is necessarily dependent on a clearly defined domain.
Perhaps the most generic example of such an urban form is the perimeter
block, although other related, introspective types may be evoked, such as
the galleria, the atrium, the forecourt and the labyrinth. And while these
types have in many instances today simply become the vehicles for
accommodating psuedo-public realms (one thinks of recent megastructures
in housing, hotels, shopping centers, etc.), one cannot even in these
26 The Anti-Aesthetic

instances entirely discount the latent political and resistant potential of the
place-form.

5. Culture Versus Nature: Topography, Context,

Climate, Light and Tectonic Form

Critical Regionalism necessarily involves a more directly dialectical relation

with nature than the more abstract, formal traditions of modern avant-garde
architecture allow. It is self-evident that the tabula rasa tendency of
modernization favors the optimum use of earth-moving equipment inas-
much as a totally flat datum is regarded as the most economic matrix upon
which to predicate the rationalization of construction. Here again, one
touches in concrete terms this fundamental opposition between universal
civilization and autochthonous culture. The bulldozing of an irregular
topography into a flat site is clearly a technocratic gesture which aspires to a
condition of absolute placelessness, whereas the terracing of the same site to
receive the stepped form of a building is an engagement in the act of
"cultivating" the site.
Clearly such a mode of beholding and acting brings one close once again
to Heidegger's etymology; at the same time, it evokes the method alluded to
by the Swiss architect Mario Botta as "building the site." It is possible to
argue that in this last instance the specific culture of the region-that is to
say, its history in both a geological and agricultural sense- becomes
inscribed into the form and realization of the work. This inscription, which
arises out of "in-laying" the building into the site, has many levels of
significance, for it has a capacity to embody, in built form, the prehistory of
the place, its archeological past and its subsequent cultivation and trans-
formation across time. Through this layering into the site the idiosyncrasies
of place find their expression without falling into sentimentality.
What is evident in the case of topography applies to a similar degree in the
case of an existing urban fabric, and the same can be claimed for the
contingencies of climate and the temporally inflected qualities of local light.
Once again, the sensitive modulation and incorporation of such factors must
almost by definition be fundamentally opposed to the optimum use of
universal technique. This is perhaps most clear in the case of light and
climate control. The generic window is obviously the most delicate point at
which these two natural forces impinge upon the outer membrane of the
building, fenestration having an innate capacity to inscribe architecture with
the character of a region and hence to express the place in which the work
is situated.
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 27

Until recently, the received precepts of modern curatorial practice

favored the exclusive use of artificial light in all art galleries. It has perhaps
been insufficiently recognized how this encapsulation tends to reduce the
artwork to a commodity, since such an environment must conspire to render
the work placeless. This is because the local light spectrum is never
permitted to play across its surface: here, then, we see how the loss of aura,
attributed by Walter Benjamin to the processes of mechanical reproduction,
also arises from a relatively static application of universal technology. The
converse of this "placeless" practice would be to provide that art galleries
be top-lit through carefully contrived monitors so that, while the injurious
effects of direct sunlight are avoided, the ambient light of the exhibition
volume changes under the impact of time, season, humidity, etc. Such
conditions guarantee the appearance of a place-conscious poetic-a form of
filtration compounded out of an interaction between culture and nature,
between art and light. Clearly this principle applies to all fenestration,
irrespective of size and location. A constant "regional inflection" of the
form arises directly from the fact that in certain climates the glazed aperture
is advanced, while in others it is recessed behind the masonry facade (or,
alternatively, shielded by adjustable sun breakers).
The way in which such openings provide for appropriate ventilation also
constitutes an unsentimental element reflecting the nature of local culture.
Here, clearly, the main antagonist of rooted culture is the ubiquitous air-
conditioner, applied in all times and in all places, irrespective of the local
climatic conditions which have a capacity to express the specific place and
the seasonal variations of its climate. Wherever they occur, the fixed
window and the remote-controlled air-conditioning system are mutually
indicati ve of domination by universal technique.
Despite the critical importance of topography and light, the primary
principle of architectural autonomy resides in the tectonic rather than the
scenographic: that is to say, this autonomy is embodied in the revealed
ligaments of the construction and in the way in which the syntactical form of
the structure explicitly resists the action of gravity. It is obvious that this
discourse of the load borne (the beam) and the load-bearing (the column)
cannot be brought into being where the structure is masked or otherwise
concealed. On the other hand, the tectonic is not to be confused with the
purely technical, for it is more than the simple revelation of stereotomy or
the expression of skeletal framework. Its essence was first defined by the
German aesthetician Karl Botticher in his book Die Tektonik der Hellenen
(1852); and it was perhaps best summarized by the architectural historian
Stanford Anderson when he wrote:

HTektonik" referred not just to the activity of making the materially requisite
construction ... but rather to the activity that raises this construction to an art
28 The Anti-Aesthetic

form .... The functionally adequate form must be adapted so as to give

expression to its function. The sense of bearing provided by the entasis of
Greek columns became the touchstone of this concept of Tektonik. 22
The tectonic remains to us today as a potential means for distilling play
between material, craftwork and gravity, so as to yield a component which is
in fact a condensation of the entire structure. We may speak here of the
presentation of a structural poetic rather than the re- presentation of a facade.

6. The Visual Versus the Tactile

The tactile resilience of the place-form and the capacity of the body to read
the environment in terms other than those of sight alone suggest a potential
strategy for resisting the domination of universal technology. It is
symptomatic of the priority given to sight that we find it necessary to remind
ourselves that the tactile is an important dimension in the perception of built
form. One has in mind a whole range of complementary sensory perceptions
which are registered by the labile body: the intensity of light, darkness, heat
and cold; the feeling of humidity; the aroma of material; the almost palpable
presence of masonry as the body senses its own confinement; the momentum
of an induced gait and the relative inertia of the body as it traverses the floor;
the echoing resonance of our own footfall. Luchino Visconti was well aware
of these factors when making the film The Damned, for he insisted that the
main set of the Altona mansion should be paved in real wooden parquet. It
was his belief that without a solid floor underfoot the actors would be
incapable of assuming appropriate and convincing postures.
A similar tactile sensitivity is evident in the finishing of the public
circulation in Alvar Aalto's Saynatsalo Town Hall of 1952. The main route
leading to the second-floor council chamber is ultimately orchestrated in
terms which are as much tactile as they are visual. Not only is the principal
access stair lined in raked brickwork, but the treads and risers are also
finished in brick. The kinetic impetus of the body in climbing the stair is thus
checked by the friction of the steps, which are "read" soon after in ,contrast
to the timber floor of the council chamber itself. This chamber asserts its
honorific status through sound, smell and texture, not to mention the springy
deflection of the floor underfoot (and a noticeable tendency to lose one's
balance on its polished surface). From this example it is clear that the
liberative importance of the tactile resides in the fact that it can only be
decoded in terms of experience itself: it cannot be reduced to mere
information, to representation or to the simple evocation of a simulacrum
substituting for absent presences.
 Towards a Critical Regionalism 29

Alvar Aalto, Siiynatsalo Town Hall, 1952.

In this way, Critical Regionalism seeks to complement our normative

visual experience by readdressing the tactile range of human perceptions. In
so doing, it endeavors to balance the priority accorded to the image and to
counter the Western tendency to interpret the environment in exclusively
perspectival terms. According to its etymology, perspective means rational-
ized sight or clear seeing, and as such it presupposes a conscious suppression
of the senses of smell, hearing and taste, and a consequent distancing from a
more direct experience of the environment. This self-imposed limitation
relates to that which Heidegger has called a "loss of nearness." In
attempting to counter this loss, the tactile opposes itself to the scenographic
and the drawing of veils over the surface of reality. Its capacity to arouse the
impulse to touch returns the architect to the poetics of construction and to the
erection of works in which the tectonic value of each component depends
upon the density of its objecthood. The tactile and the tectonic jointly have
the capacity to transcend the mere appearance of the technical in much the
same way as the place-form has the potential to withstand the relentless
onslaught of global modernization.
30 The Anti-Aesthetic

References
1. Paul Ricoeur, "Universal Civilization and National Cultures" (1961), History and Truth,
trans. Chas. A. Kelbley (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1965), pp. 276-7.
2. That these are but two sides of the same coin has perhaps been most dramatically
demonstrated in the Portland City Annex completed in Portland, Oregon in 1982 to the
designs of Michael Graves. The constructional fabric of this building bears no relation
whatsoever to the "'representative" scenography that is applied to the building both inside
and out.
3. Ricoeur, p. 277.
4. Fernand Braudel informs us that the term "culture" hardly existed before the beginning of
the 19th century when, as far as Anglo-Saxon letters are concerned, it already finds itself
opposed to "civilization" in the writings of Samuel Taylor Coleridge-above all, in
Coleridge's On the Constitution of Church and State of 1830. The noun "civilization" has
a somewhat longer history, first appearing in 1766, although its verb and participle forms
date to the 16th and 17th centuries. The use that Ricoeur makes of the opposition between
these two terms relates to the work of 20th-century German thinkers and writers such as
Osvald Spengler, Ferdinand Tonnies, Alfred Weber and Thomas Mann.
5. Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1958),
p.154.
6. Clement Greenberg, "Avant-Garde and Kitsch," in Gillo Dorfles, ed., Kitsch (New
York: Universe Books, 1969), p. 126.
7. Greenberg, "Modernist Painting," in Gregory Battcock, ed., The New Art (New York:
Dutton, 1966), pp. 101-2.
8. See Charles Jencks, The Language of Post-Modern Architecture (New York: Rizzoli,
1977).
9. Andreas Huyssens, "The Search for Tradition: Avant-Garde and Postmodernism in the
1970s," New German Critique, 22 (Winter 1981), p. 34.
10. Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morrow
Quill, 1978), p. 134.
11. Herbert Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man (Boston: Beacon Press, 1964), p. 156.
12. Alex Tzonis and Liliane Lefaivre, "The Grid and the Pathway. An Introduction to the
Work of Dimitris and Susana Antonakakis," Architecture in Greece, 15 (Athens: 1981),
p. 178.
13. Ricoeur, p. 283.
14. Aldo Van Eyck, Forum (Amsterdam: 1962).
15. Hamilton Harwell Harris, "Liberative and Restrictive Regionalism." Address given to the
Northwest Chapter of the AlA in Eugene, Oregon in 1954.
16. J~rn Utzon, "Platforms and Plateaus: Ideas of a Danish Architect," Zodiac, 10 (Milan:
Edizioni Communita, 1963), pp. 112-14.
17. Jean Gottmann, Megalopolis (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1961).
18. Martin Heidegger, "Building, Dwelling, Thinking," in Poetry. Language, Thought (New
York: Harper Colophon, 1971), p. 154. This essay first appeared in German in 1954.
19. Arendt, p. 201.
20. Melvin Webber, Explorations in Urban Structure (Philadelphia: University of Pennsyl-
vania Press, 1964).
21. Robert Venturi, Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture (New York: Museum of
Modern Art, 1966), p. 133.
22. Stanford Anderson, "Modern Architecture and Industry: Peter Behrens, the AEG, and
Industrial Design," Oppositions 21 (Summer 1980), p. 83.