GENIUS LOCI *

PREFACE

CHRISTIAN NORBERG-SCHULZ

Logic is doubtless unshakable, but it cannot withstand a man who wants to live. Franz Kafka; The Trial The present book forms a sequel to my theoretical works Intentions in Architecture (1963) and Existence, Space and Architecture (1971). It is also related to my historical study Meaning in Western Architecture (1975;. Common to all of them is the view that architecture represents a means to give man an existential foothold. My primary aim is therefore to investigate the psychic implications of architecture rather than its practical side, although I certainly admit that there exists an interrelationship between the two aspects. In Intentions in Architecture the practical, functional, dimension was in fact discussed as part of a comprehensive system. At the same time, however, the book stressed that the environment inuences human beings, and this implies that the purpose of architecture transcends the denition given by early functionalism, A thorough discussion of perception and symbolization was therefore included, and it was emphasized that man cannot gain a foothold through scientific understanding alone, he needs symbols, that is, works of art which represent life-situations. The conception of the work of art as a concretization of a life-situation is maintained in the present book. It is one of the basic needs of man to experience his life-situations as meaningful, and the purpose of the work of art is to keep and transmit meanings. The concept of meaning was also introduced in Intentions in Architecture. In general, the early book aimed at understanding architecture in concrete architectural terms, an aim which I still consider particularly important. Too much confusion is created today by those who talk about everything else when they discuss architecture! My writings therefore reflect a belief in architecture; I do not accept that architecture, vernacular or monumental, is a luxury or perhaps something which is made to impress the populace (Rapoport). There are not different kinds of architecture, but only different situations which require different solutions in order to satisfy man's physical and psychic needs. My general aim and approach has therefore been the same in all the writings mentioned above. As time has passed, however, a certain change in method has become manifest. In Intentions in Architecture art and

architecture were analyzed scientically, that is, by means of methods taken over from natural science. I do not think that this approach is wrong, but today I find other methods more illuminating.(1) When we treat architecture analytically, we miss the concrete environmental character, that is, the very quality which is the object of mans identification, and which may give him a sense of existential foothold. To overcome this lack, I introduced in Existence, Space and Architecture the concept of existential space. Existential space is not a logico-mathematical term, but comprises the basic relationships between man and his environment. The present book continues the search for a concrete understanding of the environment. The concept of existential space is here divided in the complementary terms space and character, in accordance with the basic psychic functions orientation and identication. Space and character are not treated in a purely philosophical way (as has been done by O. F. Bollnow), but are directly related to architecture, following the definition of architecture as a concretization of existential space. Concretization is furthermore explained by means of the concepts of gathering and thing. The word thing originally meant a gathering, and the meaning of anything consists in what it gathers. Thus Heidegger said: A thing gathers world. The philosophy of Heidegger has been the catalyst which has made the present book possible and determined its approach. The wish for understanding architecture as a concrete phenomenon, already expressed in Intentions in Architecture, could be satisfied in the present book, thanks to Heidegger's essays on language and aesthetics, which have been collected and admirably translated into English by A. Hofstadter (Poetry, Language, Thought, New York 1971). First ol all I owe to Heidegger the concept of dwelling. Existential foothold and dwelling are synonyms, and dwelling, in an existential sense, is the purpose of architecture. Man dwells when he can orientate himself within and identify himself with an environment, or, in short, when he expriences the environment as meaningful. Dwelling therefore implies something more than shelter. It implies that the spaces where life occurs are places, in the true sense of the word. A place is a space which has a distinct character. Since ancient times the genius loci, or spirit of place, has been recognized as the concrete reality man has to face and come to terms with in his daily life. Architecture means to visualize the genius loci, and the task of the architect is to create meaningful places, whereby he helps man to dwell.

I am well aware of the shortcomings of the present book. Many problems could only be treated in a very sketchy way, and need further elaboration. The book represents, however, a first step towards a phenomenology of architecture, that is, a theory which understands architecture in concrete, existential terms. The conquest of the existential dimension is in fact the main purpose of the present book. After decades of abstract, scientic theory, it is urgent that we return to a qualitative, phenomenological understanding of architecture. It does not help much to solve practical problems as long as this understanding is lacking. The book therefore does not treat economical and social problems. The existential dimension is not determined by the socio-economical conditions, although they may facilitate or impede the (self-) realization of certain existential structures. The socio-economical conditions are like a pictureframe; the offer a certain space for life to take place, but do not determine its existential meanings. The existential meanings have deeper roots. They are determined by the structures of our being-in-the-world, which have been analyzed by Heidegger in his classical work Being and Time (Sein und Zeit, 1926). In his essay Building Dwelling Thinking (1951), Heidegger moreover related basic existential structures to the functions of building and dwelling, and in The Thing (1950) he demonstrated the fundamental importance of the concept of gathering. Modern architects have in general excluded the existential dimension, although some of them spontaneously recognized its significance. Thus Le Corbusier wrote: The purpose of architecture is to move us. Architectural emotion exists when the work rings within us in tune with a universe whose laws we obey, recognize and respect. (Vers une architecture, 1523), Only with Louis Kahn, however, the existential dimension has regained its true importance, and in his question: What does the building want to be?, the problem is posed in its essential form. The existential dimension (truth) becomes manifest in history, but its meanings transcend the historical situation. History, on the other hand, only becomes meaningful if it represents new concretizalions of the existential dimension. In general the concretization of the existential dimension depends on how things are made, that is, it depends on form and technology (inspired technology, Louis Kahn said). This also includes the how of the Natural environment. In the present book we have therefore chosen to approach the

existential dimension in terms of place. The place represents architecture's share in truth. The place is the concrete manifestation of man's dwelling, and his identity depends on his belonging to places. I want to thank all those colleagues and students who have given me inspiration and help. In particular thanks go to my wife Anna Maria De Dominicis for her criticism and untiring help. Because of the composite nature of the book I have not included any bibliography. All references are found in the foot-notes. Oslo, June 1976

1. The Phenomenon of Place Our everyday life-world consists of concrete phenomena. It consists of people, of animals, of flowers, trees and forests, of stone, earth, wood and water, of towns, streets and houses, doors, windows and furniture. And it consists of sun, moon and stars, of drifting clouds, of night and day and changing seasons. But it also comprises more intangible phenomena such as feelings. This is what is given, this is the content of our existence. Thus Rilke asks: Are we perhaps here to say: house, bridge, fountain, gate, jug, iruit tree, window, - at best: column, tower...1. Everything else, such as atoms and molecules, numbers and all kinds of data, are abstractions or tools which are constructed to serve other purposes than those of everyday life. Today it is common to give more importance to the tools than our life-world. The concrete things which constitute our given world are interrelated in complex and perhaps contradictory ways. Some of the phenomena may for instance comprise others. The forest consists of trees, and the town is made up of houses. Landscape is such a comprehensive phenomenon. In general we may say that some phenomena form an environment to others. A concrete term for environment is place. It is common usage to say that acts and occurrences take place. In fact it is meaningless to imagine any happening without reference to a locality. Place is evidently an integral part of existence!

What, then, do we mean with the word place? Obviously we mean something more than abstract location. We mean a totality made up of concrete things having material substance, shape, texture and colour. Together these things determine an environmental character, which is the essence of place. In general a place is given as such a character or atmosphere. A place is therefore a qualitative, total phenomenon, which we cannot reduce to any of its properties, such as spatial relationships, without losing its concrete nature out of sight. Everyday experience moreover tells us that different actions need different environments to take place in a satisfactory way. As a consequence towns and houses consist of a multitude of particular places. This fact is of course taken into consideration by current theory of planning and architecture, but so far the problem has been treated in a too abstract way. Taking! lace p is usually understood in a quantitative, functional sense, with implications such as spatial distribution and dimensioning. But are not functions interhuman and similar everywhere? Evidently not. Similar functions, even the most basic ones such as sleeping and eating, take place in very different ways, and demand places with different properties, in accordance with different cultural traditions and different environmental conditions. The functional approach therefore left out the place as a concrete here having its particular identity. Being qualitative totalities of a complex nature, places .cannot be described by means of analytic, scientic concepts. As a matter of principle science abstracts from the given to arrive at neutral, objective knowledge. What is lost, however, is the everyday life-world, which ought to be the real concern of man in general and planners and architects in particular. Fortunately a way out of jhe impasse exists, that is, the method known as phenomenology. Phenomenology was conceived as a retum to things, as opposed to abstractions and mental constructions. So far phenomenologists have been mainly concerned with ontology, psychology, ethics and to some extent aesthetics, and have given relatively little attention to the phenomenology of the daily environment. A few pioneer works however exist, but they hardly contain any direct reference to architecture3. A phenomenology of architecture is therefore urgently needed.

Some of the philosophers who have approached the problem of our life-world, have used language and literature as sources of information. Poetry in fact is able to concretize those totalities which elude science, and may therefore suggest how we might proceed to obtain the needed understanding. One of the poems used by Heidegger to explain the nature of language, is the splendid A Winter Evening by Georg Trakl4. The words of Trakl also serve our purpose very well, as they make present a total life-situation where the aspect of place is strongly felt. A WINTER EVENING Window with falling snow is arrayed, Long tolls the vesper bell, The house is provitied well, The table is for many laid. Wandering ones, more than a few, Come to the door on darksome courses. Golden blooms the tree of graces Drawing up the earth's cool dew. Wanderer quietly steps within; Pain has turned the threshold to stone. There lie, in limpid brightness shown. Upon the table bread and wine.5 We shall not repeat Heideggers pro-found analysis of the poem, but rather point out a few properties which illuminate our problem. In general, Trakl uses concrete images which we all know from our everyday world. He talks about snow, window, house, table, door, tree, threshold, bread and wine, darkness and light, and he characterizes man as a wanderer. These images, however, also imply more general structures. First of all the poem distinguishes between an outside and an inside. The outside is presented in the first two verses of the first stanza, and comprises natural as well as man-made elements. Natural place is present in the falling snow, which implies winter, and by the evening. The very title of the poem places everything in this natural context. A winter evening, however, is something more than a point in the calendar. As a concrete presence, it is experienced

as a set of particular qualities, or in general as a Stimmung or character which forms a background to acts and occurrences. In the poem this character is given by the snow falling on the window, cool, soft and soundless, hiding the contours of those objects which are still recognized in the approaching darkness. The word falling moreover creates a sense of space, or rather: an implied presence of earth and sky. With a minimum of words Trakl thus brings a total natural environment to life. But the outside also has man-made properties. This is indicated by the vesper bell, which is heard everywhere, and makes the private inside become part of a comprehensive, public totality. The vesper bell, however, is something more than a practical manmade artifact. It is a symbol, which reminds us of the common values which are at the basis of that totality. In Heidegger's words: The tolling of the evening bell brings men, as mortals, before the divine6. The inside is presented in the next two verses. It is described as a house, which offers man shelter and security by being enclosed and well provided. It has however a window, an opening which makes us experience the inside as a complement to the outside. As a final focus within the house we find the table, which is for many laid. At the table men come together, it is the centre which more than anything else constitutes the inside. The character of the inside is hardly told, but anyhow present. It is luminous and warm, in contrast to the cold darkness outside, and its silence is pregnant with potential sound. In general the inside is a comprehensible world of things, where the life of many' may take place. In the next two stanzas the perspective is deepened. Here the meaning of places and things comes forth, and man is presented as a wanderer on darksome courses. Rather than being placed safely within the house he has created for himself, he comes from the outside, from the path of life, which also represents man's attempt at orientating himself in the given unknown environment. But nature also has another side: it offers the grace of growth and blossom. In the image of the golden tree, earth and sky are unified and become a world. Through man's labour this world is brought inside as bread and wine, whereby the inside is illuminated, that is, becomes meaningful.

Without the sacred fruits of sky and earth, the inside would remain empty. The house and the table receive and gather, and bring the world close. To dwell in a house therefore means to inhabit the world. But this dwelling is not easy; it has to be reached on dark paths, and a threshold separates the outside from the inside. Representing the rift between otherness and manifest meaning, it embodies suffering and is turned to stone. In the threshold, thus, the problem of dwelling comes to the fore7. Trakl's poem illuminates some essential phenomena of our life-world, and in particular the basic properties uf place. First of all it tells us that every situation is local as well as general. The winter evening described is obviously a local, nordic phenomenon, but the implied notions of outside and inside are general, as are the meanings connected with this distinction. The poem hence concretizes basic properties of existence. Concretize here means to make the general visible as a concrete, local situation. In doing this, the poem moves in the opposite direction of scientific thought. Whereas science departs from the given, poetry brings us back to the concrete things, uncovering the meanings inherent in the life-world8. Furthermore Trakls poem distinguishes between natural and mart-made elements, whereby it suggests a point of departure for an environmental phenomenology. Natural elements are evidently the primary components of the given, and places are in fact usually defined in geographical terms. We must repeat however, that place means something more than location. Various attempts at a description of natural places are offered by current literature on landscape, but again we find that the usual approach is too abstract, being based on functional or perhaps visual considerations9. Again we must turn to philosophy for help. As a first, fundamental distinction Heidegger introduces the concepts of earth and sky, and says: Earth is the serving bearer, blossoming and fruiting, spreading out in rock and water, rising up into plant and animal.... The sky is the vaulting path of the sun, the course of the changing moon, the glitter of the stars, the year's seasons, the light and dusk of day, the gloom and glow of night, the clemency and inclemency of the weather, the drifting clouds and

blue depth of the ether...10. Like many fundamental insights, the distinction between earth and sky might seem trivial. Its importance however comes out when we add Heidegger's definition of dwelling: The way in which you are and I am, the way in which we humans are on the earth, is dwelling.... But on the earth already means under the sky11. He also calls what is between earth and sky the world, and says that the world is the house where the mortals dwell12. In other words, when man is capable of dwelling the world becomes an inside. In general, nature forms an extended comprehensive totality, a place, which according to local circumstances has a particular identity. This identity, or spirit, may he described by means of the kind of concrete, qualitative terms Heidegger uses to characterise earth and sky, and has to take this fundamental distinction as its point of departure. In this way we might arrive at an existentially relevant understanding of landscape, which ought to be preserved as the main designation of natural places. Within the landscape, however, there are subordinate places, as well as natural things such as Trakl's tree. In these things the meaning of the natural environment is condensed. The man-made parts of the environment are first of all settlements of different scale, from houses and farms to villages and towns, and secondly paths which connect these settlements, as well as various elements which transform nature into a cultural landscape. If the settlements are organically related to their environment, it implies that they serve as foci where the environmental character is condensed and explained. Thus Heidegger says: The single houses, the villages, the towns are works of building which within and around themselves gather the multifarious in-between. The buildings bring the earth as the inhabited landscape close to man, and at the same time place the closeness of neighbourly dwelling under the expanse of the sky13, The basic property of man-made places is therefore concentration and enclosure. They are insides in a full sense, which means that they gather what is known. To fulfill this function they have openings which relate to the outside. (Only an inside can in fact have openings). Buildings are furthermore related to their environment by resting on the ground and rising towards the sky. Finally the man-made environments comprise artifacts or things, which may serve as internal foci, and emphasise the gathering function of the settlement. In Heidegger's words: The thing things world, where thinging is used in the original sense of gathering, and further: Only what conjoins itself out of world becomes a thing14.

Our introductory remarks give several indications about the structure of places. Some of these have already been worked our by phenomenologist philosophers, and offer a good point of departure for a more complete phenomenology. A first step is taken with the distinction of natural and man-made phenomena, or in concrete terms between landscape and settlement. A second step is represented by the categories of earth-sky (horizontal-vertical) and outsideinside. These categories have spatial implications, and space is hence reintroduced, not primarily as a mathematical concept, but us an existential dimension 15. A final and particularly important step is taken with the concept of character. Character is determined by how things are, and gives our investigation a basis in the concrete phenomena of our everyday life-world. Only in this way we may fully grasp the genius loci; the spirit of place which the ancients recognised as that opposite man has to come to terms with, to be able to dwell 16.

2. The Structure of Place Our preliminary discussion of the phenomena of place led to the conclusion that the structure of place ought to be described in terms or landscape and settlement, and analyzed by means of the categories space and character. Whereas space denotes the three-dimensional organization of the elements which make up a place, character denotes the general atmosphere which is the most comprehensive property of any place. Instead of making a distinction between space and character, it is of course possible to employ one comprehensive concept, such as lived space 17. For our purpose, however, it is practical to distinguish between space and character. Similar spatial organizations may possess very different characters according to the concrete treatment of the space-defining elements (the boundary). In history the basic spatial forms have been given ever new characterizing interpretations18. On the other hand it has to be pointed out that the spatial organization puts certain limits to characterization, and that the two concepts are interdependent.

Space is certainly no new term in architectural theory. But space can mean many things. In current literature we may distinguish between two uses: space as three-dimensional geometry, and space as perceptual field 19. None of these however are satisfactory, being abstractions from the intuitive threedimensional totality of everyday experience, which we may call concrete space. Concrete human actions in fact do not take place in an homogeneous isotropic space, but in a space distinguished by qualitative differences, such as up and down. In architectural theory several attempts have been made to define space in concrete, qualitative terms. Giedion, thus uses the distinction between outside and inside as the basis for a grand view of architectural history 20. Kevin Lynch penetrates deeper into the structure of concrete space, introducing the concepts of node (landmark), path, edge and district, to denote those elements which form the basis for men's orientation in space21. Paolo Portoghesi finally defines space as a system of places, implying that the concept of space has its roots in concrete situations, although spaces may be described by means of mathematics 22. The latter view corresponds to Heidegger's statement that spaces receive their being from locations and not from space23. The outside-inside relation which is a primary aspect of concrete space, implies that spaces possess a varying degree of extension and enclosure. Whereas landscapes are distinguished by a varied, but basically continuous extension, settlements are enclosed entities. Settlement and Landscape therefore have a gure-ground relationship. In general any enclosure becomes manifest as a gure in relation to the extended ground of the landscape. A settlement loses its identity if this relationship is corrupted, just as much as the landscape loses its identity as comprehensive extension. In a wider context any enclosure becomes a centre, which may function as a focus for its surroundings. From the centre space extends with a varying degree of continuity (rhythm) in different directions. Evidently the main directions are horizontal and vertical, that is, the directions of earth and sky. Centralization, direction and rhythm are therefore other important properties of concrete space. Finally it has to be mentioned that natural elements (such lis hills) and. settlements may be clustered or grouped with a varying degree of proximity.

All the spatial properties mentioned are of a topological kind, and correspond to the well-known principles of organization of Gestalt theory. The primary existential Importance of these principles is confirmed by the researches of Piaget on the child's conception of space 24. Geometrical modes of organization only develop Iater in life to serve particular purposes, and may in general be understood as a more precise definition of the basic topological structures. The topological enclosure thus becomes a circle, the free curve a straight line, and the cluster a grid. In architecture geometry is used to make a general comprehensive system manifest, such as an inferred cosmic order. Any enclosure is defined by a boundary. Heidegger says: A boundary is not that at which something stops but, as the Greeks recognised, the boundary is that, from which something begins its pre-sencing 25. The boundaries of a built space are known as oor, wall and ceiling. The boundaries of a landscape are structurally similar, and consist of ground, horizon, and sky. This simple structural similarity is of basic importance for the relationship between , natural and man-made places. The enclosing properties of a boundary are determined by its openings, as was poetically intuited by Trakl when using the images of window, door and threshold. In general the boundary, and in particular the wall, makes the spatial structure visible as continuous or discontinuous extension, direction and rhythm.

Character is at the same time a more general and a more concrete concept than space. On the one hand it denotes a general comprehensive atmosphere, and on the other the concrete form and substance of the spacedefining elements. Any real presence is intimately linked with a character 26. A phenomenology of character has to comprise a survey of manifest characters as well as an investigation of their concrete determinants. We have pointed out that different actions demand places with a different character. A dwelling has to be protective, an office practical, a ball-room festive and a church solemn. When we visit a foreign city, we are usually struck by its particular character, which becomes an important part of the experience. Landscapes also possess character, some of which are of a particular natural kind. Thus we talk about barren and fertile, smiling and threatening landscapes. In general we have to emphasize that all places

have character, and that character is the basic mode in which the world is given. To some extent the character of a place is a function of time; it changes with the seasons, the course of the day and the weather, factors which above all determine different conditions of light. The character is determined by the material and formal constitution of the place. We must therefore ask: how is the ground on which we walk, how is the sky above our heads, or in general; how are the boundaries which define the place. How a boundary is depends upon its formal articulation, which is again related to the way it is built. Looking at a building from this point of view, we have to consider how it rests on the ground and how it rises towards the sky. Particular attention has to be given to its lateral boundaries, or walls, which also contribute decisively to determine the character of the urban environment. We are indebted to Robert Venturi for having recognized this fact, after it had been considered for many years immoral talk about facades 27. Usually the character of a family of buildings which constitute a place, is condensed in characteristic motifs, such as particular types of windows, doors and roofs. Such motifs may become conventional elements, which serve to transpose a character from one place to another. In the boundary, thus, character and space come together, and we may agree with Venturi when he defines architecture as the wall between the inside and outside28. Except for the intuitions of Venturi, the problem of character has hardly been considered in current architectural theory. As a result, theory has to a high extent lost contact with the concrete life-world. This is particularly the case with technology, which is today considered a mere means to satisfy practical demands. Character however, depends upon how things are made, and is therefore determined by the technical realization (building). Heidegger points out that the Greek word technemeant a creative re-vealing (Entbergen) of truth, and belonged to poiesis, that is, making29. A phenomenology of place therefore has to comprise the basic modes of construction and their relationship to formal articulation. Only in this way architectural theory gets a truly concrete basis.

The structure of place becomes manifest as environmental totalities which comprise the aspects of character and space. Such places are known as countries, regions, landscapes, settlements and buildings. Here we return to the concrete things of our everyday life-world, which was our point of departure, and remember Rilke's words: Are we perhaps here to say... When places are classified we should therefore use terms such as island, promontory, bay, forest, grove, or square, street, courtyard, and oor, wall, roof, ceiling, window and door. Places are hence designated by nouns. This implies that they are considered real things that exist, which is the original meaning of the word substantive. Space, instead, as a system of relations, is denoted by prepositions. In our daily life we hardly talk about space, but about things that are over or under, before or behind each other, or we use prepositions such as at, in, within, on, upon, to, from, along, next. All these prepositions denote topological relations of the kind mentioned before. Character, finally, is denoted by adjectives, as was indicated above. A character is a complex totality, and a single adjective evidently cannot cover more than one aspect of this totality. Often, however, a character is so distinct that one word seems sufficient to grasp its essence. We see, thus, that the very structure of everyday language confirms our analysis of place. Countries, regions, landscapes, settlements, buildings (and their sub-places) form a series with a gradually diminishing scale. The steps in this series may be called environmental levels 30. At the top of the series we find the more comprehensive natural places which contain the man-made places on the lower levels. The latter have the gathering and focusing function mentioned above. In other words, man receives the environment and makes it focus in buildings and things. The things thereby explain the environment and make its character manifest. Thereby the things themselves become meaningful. That is the basic function of detail in our surroundings 31. This does not imply, however, that the different levels must have the same structure. Architectural history in fact shows that this is rarely the case. Vernacular settlements usually have a topological organization, although the single houses may be strictly geometrical. In larger cities we often find topologicals organized neighbourhoods within a general geometrical structure, etc. We shall return to the particular problems of structural correspondence later,

but have to say some words about the main step in the scale of environmental levels: the relation between natura! and man-made places. Man-made places are related to nature in three basic ways. Firstly, man wants to make the natural structure more precise. That is, he wants to visualize his understanding of nature, expressing the existential foothold he has gained. To achieve this, he builds what he has seen. Where nature suggests a delimited space he builds an enclosure; where nature appears centralized, he erects a Mal32; where nature indicates a direction, he makes a path. Secondly, man has to complement the given situation, by adding what it is lacking. Finally, he has to symbolize his understanding of nature (including himself). Symbolization implies that an experienced meaning is translated into another medium. A natural character is for instance translated into a building whose properties somehow make the character manifest 33. The purpose of symbolization is to free the meaning from the immediate situation, whereby it becomes a cultural object, which may form part of a more complex situation, or be moved to another place. All the three relationships imply that man gather the experienced meanings to create for himself an imago mundi or microcosmos which concretizes his world. Gathering evidently depends on symbolization, and implies a transposition of meanings to another place, which thereby becomes an existential centre. Visualization, complementation and symbolization are aspects of the general processes of settling; and dwelling, in the existential sense of the word, depends on these functions. Heidegger illustrates the problem by means of the bridge; a building which visualizes, symbolizes and gathers, and makes the environment become a unified whole. Thus he says: The bridge swings over the stream with case and power. It does not just connect banks that are already there, the banks emerge as banks only as the bridge crosses the stream. The bridge designedly causes them to lie across from each other. One side is set off against the other by the bridge. Nor do the banks stretch along the stream as indifferent border strips of the dry land. With the banks, the bridge brings to the stream the one and the other expanse of the landscape lying behind them. It brings stream and bank and land into each other's neighborhood. The bridge gathers the earth as landscape around the stream 34. Heidegger also describes what the bridge gathers and thereby uncovers its value as a symbol. We cannot here enter into these details, but want to emphasize that the landscape as

such gets its value through the bridge. Before, the meaning of the landscape was hidden, and the building of the bridge brings it out into the open. The bridge gathers Being into a certain location that we may call a place. This place, however, did not exist as an entity before the bridge (although there were always many sites along the river-bank where it could arise), but comes-to-presence with and as the bridge35. The existential purpose of building (architecture) is therefore to make a site become a place, that is, to uncover the meanings potentially present in the given environment. The structure of a place is not a fixed, eternal state. As a rule places change, sometimes rapidly. This does not mean, however, that the genius loci necessarily changes or gets lost. Later we shall show that taking place presupposes that the places conserve their identity during a certain stretch of time. Stabilitas loci is a necessary condition for human life. How then is this stability compatible with the dynamics of change? First of all we may point out that any place ought to have the capacity of receiving different contents, naturally within certain limits 36. A place which is only fitted for one particular purpose would soon become useless. Secondly it is evident that a place may be interpreted in different ways. To protect and conserve the genius loci in fact means to concretize its essence in ever new historical contexts. We might also say that the history of a place ought to be its self-realization. What was there as possibilities at the outset, is uncovered through human action, illuminated and kept in works of architecture which are simultaneously old and new 37. A place therefore comprises properties having a varying degree of invariance. In general we may conclude that place is the point of departure as well as the goal of our structural investigation; at the outset place is presented as a given, spontaneously experienced totality, at the end it appears as a structured world, illuminated by the analysis of the aspects of space and character. 3. The Spirit Of Place Genius loci is a Roman concept. According to ancient Roman belief every independent being has its genius, its guardian spirit. This spirit gives life to people and places, accompanies them from birth to death, and determines their character or essence. Even the gods had their genius, a fact which illustrates the fundamental nature of the concept 38. The genius thus denotes what

a thing is, or what it wants to be, to use a word of Louis Kahn. It is not necessary in our context to go into the history of the concept of genius and its relationship to the daimon of the Greeks. It suffices to point out that ancient man experienced his environment as consisting of definite characters. In particular he recognized that it is of great existential importance to come to terms with the genius of the locality where his life takes place. In the past survival depended on a good relationship to the place in a physical as well as a psychic sense. In ancient Egypt, for instance, the country was not only cultivated in accordance with the Nile floods, but the very structure of the landscape served as a model for the lay-out of the public buildings which should give man a sense of secutiry by symbolizing an eternal environmental order 39. During the course of history the genius loci has remained a living reality, although it may not have been expressively named as such. Artists and writers have found inspiration in local character and have explained the phenomena of everyday life as well as art, referring to landscapes and urban milieus. Thus Goethe says: It is evident, that the eye is educated by the things it sees from childhood on, and therefore Venetian painters must see everything clearer and with more joy than other people 40. Still in I960 Lawrence Durrell wrote: As you get to know Europe slowly, tasting the wines, cheeses and characters of the different countries you begin to realize that the important determinant of any culture is after all the spirit of place41. Modern turism proves that the experience of different places is a major human interest, although also this value today tends to get lost. In fact modern man for a long time believed that science and technology had freed him from a direct dependence on places 42. This belief has proved an illusion; pollution and environmental chaos have suddendly appeared as a frightening nemesis, and as a result the problem of place has regained its true importance. We have used the word dwelling to indicate the total man-place relationship. To understand more fully what this word implies, it is useful to return to the distinction between space and character. When man dwells, he is simultaneously located in space and exposed to a certain environmental character. The two psychological functions involved, may be called orienta-

tion and identication43. To gain en existential foothold man has to he able to orientate himself; he has to know where he is. But he also has to identify himself with the environment, that is, he has to know how he is a certain place. The problem of orientation has been given a considerable attention in recent theoretical literature on planning and architecture. Again we may refer to the work of Kevin Lynch, whose concepts of node, path and district denote the basic spatial structures which are the object of man's orientation. The perceived interrelationship of these elements constitute an environmental image, and Lynch asserts: A good environmental image gives its possessor an important sense of emotional security 44. Accordingly all cultures have developed systems of orientation, that is, spatial structures which facilitate the development of a good environmental image. The world may be organized around a set of focal points, or be broken into named regions, or be linked by remembered routes45. Often these systems of orientation are based on or derived from a given natural structure. Where the system is weak, the image-making becomes difficult, and man feels lost. The terror of being lost comes from the necessity that a mobile organism be oriented in its surroundings46. To be lost is evidently the opposite of the feeling of security which distinguishes dwelling. The environmental quality which protects man against getting lost, Lynch calls imageability, which means that shape, color or arrangement which facilitates the making of vividly identied, powerfully structured, highly useful mental images of the environment47. Here Lynch implies that the elements which constitute the spatial structure are concrete things with character and meaning. He limits himself, however, to discuss the spatial function of these elements, and thus leaves us with a fragmentary understanding of dwelling. Nevertheless, the work of Lynch constitutes an essential contribution to the theory of place. Its importance also consists in the fact that his empirical studies of concrete urban structure confirm the general principles of organization defined by Gestalt psychology and by the researches into child psychology of Piaget48. Without reducing the importance of orientation, we have to stress that dwelling above all presupposes identication with the environment. Although orientation and identification are aspects of one total relationship, they have a certain independence within the totality. It is evidently possible to orientate oneself without true identification; one gets along without feeling at home. And it is possible to feel at home without being well acquainted with the spatial struc-

ture of the place, that is, the place is only experienced as a gratifying general character. True belonging however presupposes that both psychological functions are fully developed. In primitive societies we find that even the smallest environmental details are known and meaningful, and that they make up complex spatial structures 49. In modern society, however, attention has almost exclusively been concentrated on the practical function of orientation, whereas identification has been left to chance. As a result true dwelling, in a psychological sense, has been substituted by alienation. It is therefore urgently needed to arrive at a fuller understanding of the concepts of identication and character. In our context identication means to become friends with a particular environment. Nordic man has to be friend with fog, ice and cold winds; he has to enjoy the creaking sound of snow under the feet when he walks around, he has to experience the poetical value of being immersed in fog, as Hermann Hesse did when he wrote the lines: Strange to walk in fog! Lonely is every bush and stone, no tree sees the other, everything is alone...50. The Arab, instead, has to be a friend of the infinitely extended, sandy desert and the burning sun. This does not mean that his settlements should not protect him against the natural forces; a desert settlement in fact primarily aims at the exclusion of sand and sun and therefore complements the natural situation. But it implies that the environment is experienced as meaningful. Bollnow says appropriately: Jede Stimmung ist bereinstimmung, that is, every character consists in a correspondence between outer and inner world, and between body and psyche 51. For modern urban man the friendship with a natural environment is reduced to fragmentary relations. Instead he has to identify with man-made things, such as streets and houses. The German-born American architect Gerhard Kallmann once told a story which illustrates what this means. Visiting at the end of the Second World War his native Berlin after many years of absence, he wanted to see the house where he had grown up. As must be expected in Berlin, the house had disappeared, and Mr. Kallmann felt somewhat lost. Then he suddenly recognized the typical pavement of the sidewalk: the floor on which he had played as a child. And he experienced a strong feeling of having returned home. The story teaches us that the objects of identification are concrete environmental properties and that man's relationship to these is usually developed during childhood. The child grows up in green, brown or white spaces; it

walks or plays on sand, earth, stone or moss, under a cloudy or serene sky; it grasps and lifts hard and soft things; it hears noises, such as the sound of the wind moving the leaves of a particular kind of tree; and it experiences heat and cold. Thus the child gets acquainted with the environment, and develops perceptual schemata which determine all future experiences52. The schemata comprise universal structures which are inter-human, as well as locally determined and culturally conditioned structures. Evidently every human being has to possess schemata of orientation as well as identification. The identity of a person is defined in terms of the schemata developed, because they determine the world which is accessible. This fact is confirmed by common linguistic usage. When a person wants to tell who he is, it is in fact usual to say: I am a New Yorker, or I am a Roman. This means something much more concrete than to say: I am an architect, or perhaps: I am an optimist. We understand that human identity is to a high extent a function of places and things. Thus Heidegger says: Wir sind die BeDingten53. It is therefore not only important that our environment has a spatial structure which facilitates orientation, but that it consists of concrete objects of identification. Human identity presupposes the identity of place. Identification and orientation are primary aspects of man's being-in-the-world. Whereas identification is the basis for man's sense of belonging, orientation is the function which enables him to be that homo viator, which is part of his nature. It is characteristic for modem man that for a long time he gave the role as a wanderer pride of place. He wanted to be free and conquer the world. Today we start to realize that true freedom presupposes belonging, and that dwelling means belonging to a concrete place, The word to dwell has several connotations which confirm and illuminate our thesis. Firstly it ought to be mentioned that dwell is derived from the Old Norse dvelja, which meant to linger or remain. Analogously Heidegger related the German wohnen to bleiben and sich aufhalten54. Furthermore he points out that the Gothic wunian meant to be at peace, to remain in peace. The German word for Peace, Friede, means to be free, that is, protected from harm and danger. This protection is achieved by means of an Umfriedung or enclosure. Friede is also related to zufrieden (content), Freund (friend) and the Gothic frijn (love). Heidegger uses rhese linguistic

relationships to show that dwelling means to be at peace in a protected place. We should also mention that the German word for dwelling, Wohnung, derives from das Gewohnte, which means what is known or habitual. Habit and habitat show an analoguous relationship. In other words, man knows what has become accessible to him through dwelling. We here return to the bereinstimmung or correspondence between man and his environment, and arrive at the very root of the problem of gathering.