possiblities in concrete

this is the web page about liquid stone, at the building museum last year.

“Where is your place?”. When facing this question, I was confused at first time. After I realized “my place,” the question became interesting. In this question, the place is place where our lives go through “in” or “out” or “nearby” the place. The place provides us to have an experience and memory. But, Certeau defines a place and space like that: “A place (lieu) is the order (of whatever kind) in accord with which elements are distributed in relationships of coexistence.” and “Space is a practiced place.” Certeau clarifies the difference between place and space such as “place-being there” and “space –a determination through operations.” This was good chance to re-define. And the story is more interesting story. The function of stories is to transform places into spaces or spaces into places. The story, narration would be the enzyme to make a relationship in programs < in buildings < in architecture.

“narrative structures,” “spatial syntaxes,” “subtle complexity stories,” “geographies of actions and drifting,” “proliferating metaphors,” “spatializing operations,” “semantics of space,” “psycholinguistics of perception,” “sociolinguistics of descriptions of places,” “phenomenology of the behavior,” “’ethnomethodology’ of the indices of localization,” “enunciative focalizations.”
de Certeau commences this chapter of The Practice of Everyday Life with a litany of abstruse phrases. Only slightly intelligible on the first read, these terms are intriguing and perhaps architectural. Could one or more alone spawn a design? Or generate discussion or thought that leads to creativity? Surely the remainder of this reading enters the architectural realm, considering that to which “we” strive to give definition.
Surely the line, “transformation of the void into a plentitude, of the in-between into an established place,” will give form to at least the idea of a building. Can buildings be based on philosophical phenomenological musings?

Taken in light of our earlier discussion of mapping, especially the way in which “traditional” maps dictate space, I can start to conceive of something of a theoretical loop in regards to human activity / interaction and maps. If, as de Certeau states, “ stories have the function of spatial legislation”(122), and then these stories “‘go in procession’ ahead of social practices in order to open a field for them,” then how to reconcile this with earlier discussions (was is Cosgrove or Corner?) that place the map ahead of activity. What I am trying to get is the idea of a feedback loop whereby people define space through their narrative understanding (de Certeau’s citing of itinerary), giving rise to an official map that then consumers these story tellers, only to have people come after and layer new narratives (new maps) onto these maps, returning them to the realm of the common language. Taken together these ideas for me create a fertile ground for meaning to be constantly redefined with relation to the “official” and informal creation of space. That and the part about bridges was gnarly.

There were two main factors to this article that I found difficult and imensly intriguing (most likely because I had difficulty with them). Primarily the references he makes are thing that are not even remotely recognizable to me... making it difficult to follow his discussion. Secondly, the distinction he makes between space and place are contrary and in fact opposite to the way that I would personally define those words. I would define place something like his "intersections of mobile elements" and space as "an intantaneous configuration of positions" though I would never have been able to describe the two so concisely. Especially in reference to architecture and the idea of "place making" that is so popular. I think of "place" as what happens when the "space" is occupied. Interestingly, in reading through the article the reversal of the definitions of these terms in my head made me pay much more attention to how the two words were used.

"A diagram architecture is not necessary an architecture produced through diagrams.... Instead, a diagram architecture is an architecture that behaves like a diagram, indifferent to the specific means of its realization." This paragraph points out the answer that I struggled to find last semester. In the process of the design, I tried to find the potential through the translation from the reality to the abstract diagram. while I wondered if the architecture should rigorously develop from the analysis, the images representing the virtual and potential informaiton. After comparing the assertion of Stan Allen and my project, I realized what the diagram gives us is the chance to study and create in a special way.
"... since nothing can enter architecture without having been first converted into graphic form, the actual mechanism of graphic conversion is fundamental." To me, the diagram is really a particular way belonging to the architecture. Different from the statisics analysis, the use of diagram does not describe the things but the relationship between different elements and the potential of things themselves.

As students in architecture, we usually struggle to make a efficient diagram showing things such as concept, process and analysis. And when I think of the feature of diagram, the visual character of diagram is simplity. To me, it means the diagram is abstract tool to represent the idea and the process of design. But Stan Allen defines the diagram as the organization, “description of potential relationships among elements, not only an abstract model of the way things behave in the world but a map of possible worlds.” And these possible worlds became full of invisible images and information opposing to materiality of buildings. In this invisible time, the diagram has potential to be efficient method as well as strong tool in architecture because “a diagrammatic practice locates itself between the actual and the virtual”. I have been persuaded by Stan Allen to here.

Next, the diagram architecture is… “ a diagram architecture is an architecture that behaves like a diagram”. Like diagram, architecture confronts the period of immateriality and invisibility. And Stan Allen insists that a diagram architecture produces complex performative effects with a unfixed architectural envelope and is located in the architecture’ place in 21th-century. In my opinion, architecture is basically including human behavior and providing the place for human activity. In spite of the character of new century as information and images, I wonder how architecture integrates between fundamental function of architecture and immateriality of this period. Could diagram architecture is one of method for this?

A post is a post is a post.

Patched together here is some praise for an architecture that is at once complete and open ended, discussion of the abstract machine and its processing capacity. It stands for flexibility over stiffness, the organization of present as well as future conditions. What I find difficulty in (if I have it right) is the suggestion that meaning and purposivness in diagrammatic architecture resides solely in the surfaces and materiality. Interpretation is inherent. It is what we do, cognition and apprehension already processes of translation.
The analogy of the architectural diagram to electrical flow is a sturdy visualization beyond that exception. “The diagram may be the channel through which any communication with architecture’s outside must travel, but the flow of information along these channels will never be smooth and faultless…” This web of circuitry brings to mind the creative practices mentioned and espoused in Lucy’s lecture this week- words as things, planning as participatory, intricate, convoluted.

Stan Allen describes the diagram as “not a thing in itself but a description of potential relationships among elements, not only an abstract model of the way things behave in the world but a map of many worlds.” This is a curious assertion as I always considered the diagram to be much more of a direct and concise representation of information, while mappings aimed to discover something new about a set of relationships.
I was stuck by the connection Allen made between the transactional nature of architecture and the diagram. It makes sense then that the diagram is such an appropriate tool for architects, in that the tasks of translating processes, organizing information, and conveying ideas are the tasks of both the architect and the diagram. The architect, in a sense, is the diagrammatic element in the realization of a project. Ito further expresses the importance of the diagram in architecture in its demystification of the process, which should be the architect’s objective. This is an important point. It illustrates the diagram as not only a tool of communication, but also regulatory system to clarify the idea and the designer in check.

do diagrams really matter?

do diagrams really matter?

In this essay Stan Allen argues and states a lot of architects' portfolios, theory and practice who do use diagrams to create architecture. He goes into various types of them. Similar to corner he does believe they are not just a single statement but rather they transposition ideas rather than translating them. Diagrams are generative and create new ideas. He even goes as far as dividing the diagrams into stages of generating ideas, creation and communication. All the bell and whistle about diagramming or mapping is wonderful and i believe its a great tool to initiate design. With diagramming one is trying to gather all of information/data that surround their project, compare relationships and discover new information that might help you design more actively. I think the more difficult bridge to cross is applying one's diagram and relationship to the design. The diagrams can help but eventually they not going to be formal generation for one's design.

Stan Allen describes diagramming in a very dense mater creating a rhetoric which is not very legible from everyone. This is the struggle of architecture creating a credible profession next to science based professions. its seems like more and more architects/architectural theorist write in such a dense manner in order to claim a higher standard for architecture in society. so architecture theory wont be the nightstand reading for everyone. therefore architecture language/ rhetoric become more and more exclusive and only we can understand and talk about among our selves, excluding the engineers, doctors and lawyers. Are we benefiting from this exclusive language? just remember Mr. Allen's does describes "diagram architecture travels light, leaving the heavy stuff behind"

really?

Lost in Transposition?

A diagrammatic practice is, among other qualities, direct and adaptable as it is described by Stan Allen's Diagrams Matter. While these seem to me desirable qualities in a design practice, I wonder how the diagrammed design succeeds in directness and adaptability more than the methods he is arguing against. I read the operation of transposition as a decontextualising of an element of a system mechanically, and then allowing new meanings to emerge from the assemblage of elements into a diagram. I question whether the produces something that is merely different rather than something that is relevant. Consider the example of Alexander of Macedon's dream as it is provided in this essay. Aristander's transposition of satyr into sa Tyros directed Alexander to lead a successful attack, but did the actual name satyr have a primary role in his dream? What if the name of the dancing visage had been transposable to mean "Tyros is not thine"? The answer, likely in my opinion, is that some other justification would have been found for pressing the attack, perhaps by transposing the word for dancing to indicate imminent victory. For what is absent in the story is the scenario: the quantity of provisions remaining, the moral of soldiers, the weather, evidence of the condition of the enemy, and so on. Perhaps diagrams act in an analogous way in architecture: perhaps they serve as oversimplified justification for a specific design (even in the case of the most abstract diagram), while the collective experience and instincts of a project's designers act to determine the success of the design.

I agree with Stan Allen that diagrams may be significant in their offering of new ways of thinking about organization, potential relationships, etc., however, I am concerned with the possible bullshit factor behind them. Stan Allen puts forth the idea that diagrams do in fact contain gaps and are indeed flawless, but not to the extent or degree I find necessary. Diagrams contain more than the information of the proposed subject, they are driven to a great extent by the idiosyncracies of the maker. They are an extension of the author's experience, knowledge, skills, and perhaps most importantly their 'agenda.' I appreciate the Toyo Ito passage for addressing the dependence of diagrams on the 'self expression of the individual.'
I'm also interested in the reader of diagrams. How do they serve different audiences. For architects and students the connections and/or relationships may be easily read. For clients, or a variety of clients, they may be understood as complete and honest or perhaps meaningless-incomprehensible abstractions. I haven't studied this subject matter in depth, and it may be a bit premature to state that I'm all together cautious of them - not a true believer in their potential weight. Yes, they may be generative but I don't see how they are "open." The maker has already determined the starting point and set the course - so, if the reader moves on from those points, isn't it along a prescribed trajectory? I thought the Panopticon reference was great. I read about this as a kid and haven't visited it since, but if I remember correctly the design and diagram promoted an efficient system for prisoners and guards. The central location of the guards would allow them a view of the prisoners from a single, central vantage point.. blah blah, and Bentham's 18th C. diagram fully illustrated this potential. Well, the guards were located in this central position, surrounded by prisoners who were in fact watching them all the time! creepy.

information in flux

Allen, Berkle, and Bos' ideas on the place of the diagram in arch. resonate much more with me now, than when we last reviewed them. Specifically, the idea that a truly well crafted diagram will not lead to a conclusion, but rather an iteration that represents a snap shot of interrelation. My thoughts then drifted to my working in Illustrator, with its vector-based interface. On a really dumb level, I am really taken by the menu option of "place", and that a file, once placed in the document, can be altered apart from the document, and that this newer version will find its way back into the illustrator assemblage. Further that the vectors themselves exist in a fluid state, and that they are only fixed until I shove them around to create a different image, but one that speaks to its constituent parts in the same way the image did before I tampered with it.
Further, when considering Allen's comments on how a diagrammatic building would also treat space and program as open ended possibilities, I though of the free space within the MEDIATHEUQE, and how it is configured to respond, like my illustrator doc., to the changing modes of media production / presentation that it is meant to contain.
I need food.

marketing architecture for an open-ended future

Stan Allen is marketing a position for architecture to remain relevant as the intellectual direction of the world shifts. It is something that Charles Jencks, Le Corbusier, Wittkower etc. have done, as the world of ideas slowly morphs from one fascination to another. First, he opens the concept of diagram, giving it “multiple functions,” and “instrumental abstractions.” Diagrams create possibilities. He then jumps to information technologies, the force which is changing the way the world operates. IT requires lighter, more responsive architecture… performance…”a field in which diagrams matter.” Here we see what we need for the future, but before going on to explain how architecture, rearticulated, can fulfill those requirements, Allen stops to historically ground the discipline as predisposed toward this type of thinking: “architecture is already implicated in a number of media, and the architect is out of necessity constantly moving from one medium to another.” As he pushes his new ideas about architecture forward, he is careful not to let the age of the discipline impede its flexibility. Architecture “does not insist on historically sanctioned definitions,” but its technological skepticism gives it the freedom to use tradition alongside innovation. According to Allen, architecture “travels light, leaving the heavy stuff behind.” Therefore it is the perfect response to what IT requires, and a relevant discipline in the 21st century. It behaves like a diagram, loose fitting, transposable, multiplicitous…it allows for flaws, imperfection. It’s open-ended. Society is changing so fast it is impossible to tell where it is headed; therefore the best way to stay marketable is to offer critique without taking a firm line, to generate and not limit or control. I agree with his calls for generative design, and with the usefulness of diagrams. But regardless of whether I like what he says, I think he has done a marvelous job of articulating a form of logic for a discipline on the border of academia that propels it into the midst of academic exploration and makes it receptive to any number of shifts in theory or technology.

difficult words

Definitions of words and precise use of language has been one underlying theme in our studios during this first year of architecture school, and our readings of architectural theory has supported the idea that words in architecture seem to have a dual functionality. One one hand they add a level of precision to the communication of visual ideas, leading to the creation of a specialized language for architecture. Other uses and methods of understanding words and discourse are utilized by both Stan Allen and Van Berkel & Bos.

Stan allen uses many communication-related language to explain the importance of the diagram. Many of these words I had to look up.

language
literature
translation
transposition - translation/interpretation/transformation??
hermeneutics - a method of interpretation
rubus - a representation of words or syllables by pictures of objects or by symbols whose names resemble the intended words or syllables in sound

Stan Allen uses the analogy of the the interpretation of the dream of Alexander of Macedon to demonstrate the materiality of words. He concludes with, "In this sense, words are made to behave like architecture rather than architeture being made to behave like discourse."

Van Berkel and Bos utilizes the idea of discourse theory to describe the efficacy of diagrams.
...out of time...! ... perhaps more later..

Clean up on aisle 6!!!

Ah, Stan Allen. I love this guy. So does the stimulant pharmaceutical industry.

After rereading particular sentences multiple times I think I finally understand the gist of what Stan0 is getting at. He is merely attempting to define an architecture driven by "real" circustances stripped of subjective influence. Diagramatic architecture takes literal, functional information related to a project and layers it to reveal other literal functional relationships, scenarios, and effects. These in turn are used to inform the architecture. Architecture inspired by this methodology is grounded in real world circumstance and not in the personal expression or whimsy of the architect. Notions of meaning or interpretation are theoretically removed. Architecture derived through this methodology is what it is. This isn't to say that the final relationships used to inform the design aren't complex or obvious. Rather that they are grounded in actuality. Such an architecture isn't open to interpretation. Interpretation is rendered moot by the fact that no meaning was intended.
Allen doesn't say that diagram architecture is right or wrong, better or worse than other styles. It just is what it is, much like the architecture it motivates.

maps and diagrams and bears-- oh my!

With Stan Allen’s assertion that a diagram isn’t necessarily “a thing in itself, but a description of potential relationships among elements… a map of possible worlds”, the thin line between map and diagram, which we attempted to navigate last semester and which never quite came into focus in my mind, is once again blurred. The manner in which Allen describes the diagram, as an abstract tool for organization and the discovery of new potential organizations, very much accords with my understanding of Corner’s definition of a map (as distinct from a “trace”). To further my confusion, enter Toyo Ito, who states that a diagram “describes how a multitude of functional conditions must be read in spatial terms, into an actual structure”.

As I struggle to understand the difference between a map and a diagram—if, in fact, one truly exists—I seize on Allen’s assertion that diagrams function through matter/matter relationships, as opposed to through matter/content relationships. He asserts that a matter/matter relationship turns “away from questions of meaning and interpretation, and reassert function as a legitimate problem, without the dogmas of functionalism”. Do maps, in fact, operate from matter/content relationships, as opposed to matter/matter relationships?

Indeed I believe that maps are concerned with matter/content relationships, as put forth by Corner. While maps, according to Corner do uncover” realities previously unseen or unimagined”, they gain their agency by doing so “across seemingly exhausted ground”. This seems to me a particularly matter/content relationship. However, despite this rather tenuous differentiation, I remain fundamentally confused about the difference between the two. For now, I am content to use whatever I am making—maps or diagrams—as generative tools and abstract machines, to inspire, but not resemble, what they produce.

In some ways, the writings of Stan Allen and Berkel & Bos correspond to the notions presented by Corner’s mapping essay. One recurring notion is the role of the diagram or map as a generative tool. In particular, the forward-looking capacity of the diagram is emphasized. Berkel & Bos write: “The diagrammatic or abstract machine does not function to represent, even something real, but rather constructs a real that is yet to come.” Allen writes of how the diagram anticipates “yet to be realized relationships” and asserts: “A diagram is therefore not a thing in itself but a description of potential relationships among elements, not only an abstract model of the way things behave in the world but a map of many possible worlds.” This idea of examining and discovering future potentialities via diagramming relates to Rem Koolhaas’s use of mapping to evocatively consider future possibilities, as presented by Corner. The correlation with Koolhaas and Corner continues in the discussion of layering as a representational tool. Allen describes how “diagram architecture looks for effects on the surface, but by layering surface on surface, a new kind of depth-effect is created.” Koolhaas’s work exhibits this depth-effect.

I appreciate the essays’ discussion of diagrams as a means to navigate architecture’s oscillation between “the world of ideas and the physical world” and traverse and address dualities within architectural practice. Although I have made great strides in my understanding of how a diagram operates, the boundary between idea, diagram and design remains indistinct in my mind. This blurriness is compounded by seemingly contradictory statements such as: “To see architecture as a built line diagram is practically the reverse of our position. More to the point is the general understanding of the diagram as a statistical or schematic image” (Berkel & Bos); and “a diagram architecture is an architecture that behaves like a diagram, indifferent to the specific means of its realization” (Allen). While I do understand the different terms with which the two essays consider the relationship between building and diagram, as I consider my work, the leap between one and the other remains a chasm that is of yet not easily traversed.

"the compulsive force of legitimizing arguments"

The van Berkel & Bos essay brings the illusive, theoretical language of Allen's article back into the real world for me. The point they make that diagrams are typically used as a post-rationalization, or a tool to convey architect's lofty theoretical ideas to the common man is disturbing to me. In school we are taught that diagrams are generators of ideas, and catalysts for creation, yet in my experience in practice, it only starts out that way. The diagram at some (early) stage of design development is put aside and in its place are snazzy renderings and cost estimations. Only post-construction or pre-publication is the diagram reintroduced, only now it has to reflect the thing that has been created. In a process such as this there is little to no generation of ideas coming from that inital diagram.

I find it facinating to think of a building as a diagram or as Stan Allen put is "an architecture that behaves like a diagram." A structure that has the ability perpetuate ideas, uses, and readings in minimal moves. Though I am not completely convinced as to how the examples he has given do this. Or perhaps it is that all buildings already act in this way... similar to how a renaissance painting can have new meaning and perpetuate new ideas for someone living in the 21st century. Perhaps all buildings, being "works of art" have the potential to fuction as a diagram, it all depends on who is looking at them. For example, Brian MacKay-Lyons spoke about in his lecture last week about how the simple vernacular houses on the coast in Nova Scotia were "diagram" of sorts that generated his theories and ideas of architecture despite the fact that his professors thought he was crazy and claimed that the houses weren't worth looking at.

What is this garbage?

Just Kidding. I just had to get that out. Really though, I don't know if my negative reaction to this reading is because reading this made me feel inadequate, or if I really do understand most of it, and just don't agree with its structure, meaning and vagueness. No matter what, it definitely left me with a feeling of not really getting it....was that embedded as a subversive purpose? Or are they just talking about construction documents?

Either way, personal insecurities aside, there is much to be talked about here. The most compelling (and most lucid) concept presented was that of "stealth diagrams" by Stan Allen. His deconstructions of architectural diagrammatic practice embodying the place between architectural ideas and their realization is powerful. "The diagram is not simply a reduction from an existing order. Its abstraction is instrumental, not an end in itself." As a 'transactional abstraction', diagrams are creative conduit—another medium for translation—an opportunity. Furthermore, his assertion of this conduit being invisible, or immaterial information being the fuel for the abstract machine is very interesting. It's about the creative energy that is inherently and invisibly embedded(or coded) into the product itself. It's provocative in suggesting that the material is a product of the immaterial, or that architecture is a means of actualizing the virtual.

In "Diagrams-Interactive Instruments in Operation", the concept of "the diagram as a visual tool designed to convey as much information in five minutes as would require whole days to imprint on the memory" makes a lot of sense. It would seem obvious then, that their capital comes from the 'invisible' codings that precede their realization. I would also agree with Stan Allen that this conceptual 'apparatus of conversion' is left unexamined. There are so many tools at an architects disposal to fuel this 'abstract machine', and if we can only find out the right ingredients and settings, we might just translate some damn good ideas into architecture. For me, working digitally still feels more like a bottleneck than an opportunity, because it forces me to continue to work in the virtual, which often feels too many steps away from formal realization. However, it can add another dimension as the conversation between iterations, even though in the end, you don't see it, you just see what it does.

milione statistiche!

http://194.243.104.170/cgi-bin/broker.exe?_service=venis&_program=pgmfile.urbanaudit5_01.sas&_debug=0&pgm=0

Clip/Stamp/Fold: The Radical Architecture of Little Magazines

when architects were activists...

Crit Characters

Check out this funny article about crit characters. Which one are you?

http://www.metropolismag.com/cda/story.php?artid=2282

The yearly rising of sea level threatens the Venice and other islands in the lagoon. It does not only affect the preservation of historical heritages in the city but also the ecosystem on the lagoon level. The proposal of building mobile gates to resist the threaten gives people a choice to solve the problem. However, the debate on building gates makes me think if it is necessary to tackle this problem. The cycle of tide eroses the shore of islands, and the global warming rises the level of sea. All of these are Nature. Why do people have to resist the force of nature?
Before solving problems, I think people should think what they really need to protect. Also, why is it worh to protect? Especailly, the tourism and the declination of real Venetian population strikes the native culture. The Venetian lose their own consiousness gradually. Instead of spending lots of money to find the solution, it is more necessary for us to recognize the radical problem.

It is interesting how the Insula has tackled the problem of the crumbling infrastructure. Keahey describes the process as filling hand crafted cobble stones, “with special cement reinforced with carbon and Kevlar fibers that are strong, long-wearing and temperature-resistant.” It is a beautiful idea of the old hand-crafted bricks working with new state of the art materials to keep this delicate city from sinking into the lagoon. Although I think most Venetians would disagree, I would like to see these materials above the water, perhaps as an installation piece, a commentary on preserving the old with new materials, and supporting the city.
What’s more interesting is the Venetian response to the necessary maintenance the Insula carries out. It’s almost as though the Venetians romanticize the past and the rotting infrastructure more than the visitors. They prefer the rusty iron and the crumbling brick walkways to a city that stays afloat.
Even though this solution is materially very well considered, it is temporary fix and the proposed permanent solution in Venice Against the Sea is to, “turn the lagoon into a walled lake…” which seems totally insane, but I guess it’s no more outlandish than dredging the canals as often as the Venetians do.

Venice will never die.

I find it so fascinating how many people romanticize Venice as an ephemeral city, always in a death-like dance with ecology, geography, tourism and time. It just seems so convenient to advertise the risk and decay, the unsustainability, and the ongoing, feeble, costly attempts by humans to preserve a city that we might just love to consume to death. I propose another perspective to this cynical, fatalist view. Venice is extremely resilient. It will not sink into the lagoon. It will not become a ghost-town of decayed buildings, whose history and culture sink away into the bog of the lagoon, and out of our mortal minds.
Too many people love it. They love it for its precariousness, its romance, its risk, and its power. It's a social and ecological underdog, with prime realestate in the world's hearts and minds. Its image goes far beyond what its poorly-constructed forms and foundations can support---Venice is an Idea. And as long as we humans remain mesmerized by the Idea, we will continue to protect it with our hearts and souls, and Venice will not disappear. I would argue that it's physical form may continue to change, as it negotiates its Image in our minds, and continues to woo our hearts(and wallets) with its risky mystique, and we continue to demand more than it can afford. In the end, if there is one, I would imagine that it could only come when we fall more in love with the ecological, the natural and the power of nature and time, and finally decide to give Venice back to the earth that it came from.

In reading Venice: Tourist Maze and Venice Against the Sea, it seems to me that the symbiotic and oppositional relationships of Man and Nature intersect in Venice. As Keahey documents in the later book, The analytical power of society has been put to work, drawing scientists from halfway around the world to battle the sea. This, to save a city whose survival and prosperity were achieved in no small part because of its natural surroundings. The ephemeral lagoon provided an ever-changing barrier, impossible to know except by those who lived there, effectively ensuring Venetian control over the approach to the city. Perhaps the romanticism that draws hordes of tourists to the area has some of its origin in the founding and thriving of a city in such a precarious location.

The more in-depth my study of Venice goes, the more difficult I find it to believe, on a personal level, that so many tourists continue to be drawn to this city perpetually mobbed by even increasing throngs of foreigners. Like Davis and Marvin, one can’t help but wonder “what do tourists go there to see”? As San Marco has come to be the key signifier of the terrestrial tourist experience in Venice, so too has Venice come to be the key signifier of the tourist experience on a global scale. I was particularly interested (though not entirely shocked) to learn of the incredibly low percentages of tourists that, while in Venice, choose to engage with the city’s history by attending the Galleria dell’Accademia, the Museo Correr, or even paying admission to the ducal palace. In this sense Venice, the historical seat of commercialism, has gone as far as a place can go in terms of commodifying itself. Tourists now flock there simply to be in the middle of, as Davis and Marvin put it, “the Something Big”. By adding to the masses of humanity that pass through Venice’s streets every year, the tourists are directly participating in the ever mounting value of Venice as a tourist destination. Similar to how a designer handbag is coveted not for its function but rather for its ability to grant status to its carrier, Venice is made attractive by the tourist’s desire to be considered a tourist of the world rather than for its unique heritage or simply for its cultural significance. In many ways Venice has become like the designer shops that now find their homes in the heart of the city; it too is a brand, so commodified that it too has begotten knock-offs, which do little but heighten global desire for the real thing.

While reading The Tourist Maze I became interested in the psychology of the tourist and his/her persistance in searching for a personal relationship with venice that would satisfy an image or myth of the city. Davis and Marvin describe in detail the set of annoyances, obstacles, and jams that tourists trudge through in mobs, while at the same time dreamily determined to find and frame their image of venice. The authors write,

"As anyone who has ventured out into the town's back sreets can testify, it is almost always easy to frame a camera or video shot - or just a personal memory, for that matter - that will combine some or sometimes all of the elements of "Venetianness" that allow one to say, "I'm here, I'm in Venice." This is a place where, after all, "unlike just about anywhere else on earth, the most important thing is simple physical presence."

I'm interested in the persistance and capacity for tourists to mentally block out, frame, and tint their experience in Venice to match their dreams, to convince themselves that they have some personal ownership and connection with the city.

Dangerous Waters

The discussion of Venice is not complete without the inclusion of the water. "The Tourist Maze" makes the connections between the problems caused by water in the city and the tourist who invade its sparse bits of land. The inital discussion is of the famous smelly water, which they discribe as the second most famous myth of the city only to the "fact" that the city is sinking. It is amusing to think that the same stink and muck that the tourist complain about is partial caused by them or their fellow tourist, leaving waste of all kinds behind as they shuffle from attraction to attraction. Countering the point of the actual inhabitants of the city (both temporary and permenent) causing the dirty water is the fact that for years on the terrafirma industry was dumping chemicals and waste into the lagoon and agriculture was allowing unregulated runoff directly into the water surrounding the city. In an effort to keep the lagoon acessible to residents and visitors alike, the canal dredging has been to blame for stirring up this toxic that settles over time.
An interesting relation between the water and tourist comes about in the discussion of the acqua alta and the flooding/sinking quality of the city. Interestingly that the discussion of how to "save" the city also includes a discussion of how to save it without saving it too much. A fear of changing the city so much that visitors will no longer flock to the city. The final discussion is one of modernization of a city that is attempting to stay premodern. The change from rowed to motorized boats is one of necessity and convience but yet is having a profound effect on the decay of the city. The delicate balance of land and water that has been Venice's situation since its first inhabitants seems to only escalate. Now the perdicament of maintaining the living museum while at the same time being environmentally concious and continuing its livability has become stickier than the muck that fills lagoon.

Venice against the sea, not a fair fight.

Venice Against the Sea outlines the serious weather and geologic factors that are conspiring to drown the city. Keahy delves into the factors of subsidance, the harmonizing of tide, storm, and wind, and the overarching threat of global warming as the primary threats to Venice. All of the above are mortal dangers to Venice because they are tipping the delicate balance of Venice and the Sea in the sea's favor.

On the front page of this morning's NY Time's was an article detailing the findings of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (a U.N. body). The assessment does not bode well for Venice, flood gates or no. While the new report projected a modest rise in seas by 2100 — between 7 and 23 inches — it also concluded that seas would continue to rise, and crowded coasts retreat, for at least 1,000 years to come. In light of the immense physical forces arrayed against Venice, can the city ever believe it can win such a fight? Perhaps for a generation. Can you fight the ocean and win? Or as a Dr. Pollack asks, "Why are we fighting to save Venice". I think that is a great question to ask and something that we should discuss in class. Are we saving the art? Are we saving history? Are we saving our self confidence that our science and technology can master anything? I think it would be a great lesson illustrating the damage we are causing the planet if the ocean rose up in one 15' wave (not very big but it wouldn't take much) and washed Venice from the map. That is said a bit tongue in cheek but I'm also a little bit serious.

It was just announced that UC Berkeley was part of a team that was awarded a $500 million grant to explore alternative fuel sources. Apparently this is a big deal. $500 million dollars to figure out a way to curb carbon emmissions. Wow!!! That is sooooo much money. Well, maybe not so much when you consider that Venice is going to spend several billion just to save itself.

...but I can't wait to go.

As we continue to discuss the survival of Venice through both the onslaught of the sea and of its many tourists, I can't help but think that a basic level, the problems are the same. Of course they have different effects on the landscape and require very different approaches to 'solutions,' but both tourists and the sea are something without whom Venice, at this point in history at least, cannot live. Both threaten to overwhelm the city with their presence, and yet each are vital elements that hold an essential part of Venice's character.

Davis and Marvin highlight the long history of tourism in Venice, and the adeptness of the Venetians to tailor their customs to fit tourists needs, and maximize profits. The preservation of the character of historical Venice would not be so imperative without the desires of millions of people backing that undertaking, would they? I think of an old "Main Street America" town on the Mississippi in comparison. It is similar in size to Venice's current population, though a bit smaller. Once, it was a major port for transporting exported goods from the Midwest down through New Orleans, and for distributing goods from the South. The town is no longer necessssary for transportation, or industry, because the northern Mississippi isn't the center of trade. Because of its out-of-the-way location, the town does not attract tourists, and it slowly dies. Most residents have been there since birth, and over 50% of the population is on welfare. Of course there are a lot of factors that complicate and differentiate the two cities, but because Venice is now so dependent on tourism, I think that to construct an idea about the future of Venice, we must include the tourists, and while being critical of their activities, attempt to find the potential in the good tourists can bring. Perhaps a new perspective on the city. And at the very least, an appreciation of what is there.

In the discussion of the phenomenon of San Marco’s never ending stream of tourists, Davis and Marvin quote one such tourist: “‘Venice must be a paradise’ for the flaneur,” followed by a romantic vision of a Venetian dandy. I was struck by this notion and wondered if Baudelaire had ever visited Venice, to observe the evening promenade of the city, finding anonymity in throngs of tourists, then as now. A couple pages later, the authors respond directly to my musings, claiming “participants in the traditional Venetian liston were very different from Baudelaire’s nineteenth-century flaneur, who by definition kept an ironic distance from the social and cultural world through which he strolled, “to take part in the bustle of the city in the security of his anonymous state.” Perhaps the public promenade performed by the Italians cannot be subject to the flaneur’s intrusive and inevitably foreign gaze, by why not the tourists themselves? Davis and Marvin write that there is no chance that a tourist might “adopt the pose of the flaneur and gaze upon those around them with bemused detachment, for all they will see in San Marco is a super-saturation of tourists all very much like themselves, equally there to see this ‘must see’ place.” I question this supposed inability for visitors to act as flaneur, but have not come to a conclusion. Will we be able to detach ourselves from the famous sights, the romantic vision, in order to gaze with skepticism, with amusement, at our fellow tourists? And because we too are tourists, does that prevent us from a cultural critique of other tourists? There is no doubt that we will be able to find ourselves anonymous, one of an immense crowd, amidst the bustle of San Marco, so why not strive for an objective observation of the city, and of the tourists, who in many ways have become the local population and everyday life of Venice?