Without the senses, we have no perception of this physical world. Our senses are the gateways to the world. We use our senses to anchor ourselves in the world as human beings and thus experience a sense of security and integration. We must learn to structure our sensory impressions and develop more awareness in sensory perception. This is an important basis for our work as architects and designers. After all, our senses are the organs with which we perceive architecture. I would like to show a way to develop more awareness – and also more precise concepts – for sensory perception. What we experience in perception as a complex unit must be differentiated and structured. For the multi-layered areas of sensory perception, we have the most diverse organs of perception that we need to know. Only in this way we´ll be able to categorize and evaluate our perceptions in a fruitful way. Every perception always involves several senses working together, with one sense having the leading function. This guiding function is closely linked to our intentions, to what we focus our senses on, what they are attracted to. Physiology today speaks of around eight to ten senses, but these are not very differentiated and delineated. Rudolf Steiner developed a conclusive concept of twelve senses between 1909 and 1924 and assigned them to the human being’s essential elements (body-soul-spirit). On this basis, there were many in-depth studies, e.g. by Willi Aeppli in his book “Sinnesorganismus, Sinnesverlust Sinnespflege” (Willi Aeppli: Sinnesorganismus Sinnesverlust Sinnespflege. Rudolf Steiner’s theory of the senses in its significance for education, Stuttgart 1979) in connection with educational issues. Hans Jürgen Scheuerle made a significant contribution to the relationship towards architecture in his work on the overall organization of the senses (Jürgen Scheurle: Die Gesamtsinnesorganisation, Stuttgart 1984) and to the concretization of the modalities. For me, this approach is an essential basis for consciously dealing with the senses and their relationship to the elements of architecture. The twelve senses are the sense of touch, the sense of life, the sense of movement, the sense of balance, the sense of taste, the sense of smell, the sense of sight, the sense of warmth, the sense of hearing, the sense of speech, the sense of thought and the sense of self. In the following I can only give examples of individual senses. These twelve senses are divided into three groups or modalities: the physical senses, the spatial senses and the temporal senses.

The body senses

We can call the first four senses the bodily senses. They give us information about how we relate to the world with our physical body. They are the senses of self-perception or body perception (the red part of the diagram). Let’s do a little exercise here. Pick out a small object, e.g. a small stone. Feel what you experience: Pressure on the skin, pointy or smooth – this is a tactile experience. For the tactile experience, you must constantly move the object, i.e. activate your sense of movement. But you also experience something else, the heaviness, the weight of the stone. You experience this with the sense of life. And you also experience the temperature: is the stone cold or warm, is the sun shining on it? This is where we experience the sense of warmth. You can see how varied this little tactile exercise is and how we also activate the other senses involuntarily. The sense of balance tells us the position of our body in relation to the spatial directions: left, right, front, back, up, down. The sense of movement provides us with information about the position of our body and limbs and registers changes in position. We perceive external movements by following them internally in our body. We find the organ of the sense of movement in our musculature, in the shortening and lengthening of the muscles. This is how we perceive movements and forms outside ourselves through the muscles in our eyes.

The spatial senses (green marked)

The next group out of those twelve are the sensory or spatial senses: the sense of taste, the sense of smell, the sense of sight and the sense of warmth. They convey mental impressions to us. The sense of smell, for example, tells us what is in the air. In a room, for example, it warns us if we smell a burning smell. The sense of smell is always active, but we only become aware of it when there is a change in the environment. Nevertheless, it is very present when we enter a house, for example, and are confronted with a certain smell. A smell that we know from another situation, e.g. from our childhood, from our grandparents. If we now follow this perception, we find ourselves in our grandmother’s house with all the emotional sensations of that time. The olfactory experience is strongly linked to the room and place and our earlier experiences. This emerges from the semi-conscious, our consciousness has no direct access to it. Our sense of sight is our guiding sense, especially in today’s visually influenced culture. We perceive colors, light, bright and dark, contrasts, but also shapes and formats. We have a clear sense organ, but it conveys more to us than just the visual. We can see how complex the subject is and that “seeing” is not just limited to the optics of the eye. We have visual perceptions that immediately evoke sensations. With this group of senses – sense of taste, sense of smell, sense of sight and sense of warmth – we open up space. We leave our body. We feel ourselves in space, we actively connect with our surroundings. We can also call them the spatial senses.

The senses of time (yellow marked)

The next group of senses are the senses that extend beyond space, the senses of time. Their qualities can only be experienced in time. These senses are closely related to the volitional senses of our bodily or self-perception. They require the abilities of the bodily senses, but the direction of perception is directed outwards through our consciousness towards our fellow human beings, towards the animated and essential. Against this background, we can also refer to this group as the social senses. It includes the sense of hearing, which forms the transition from the feeling-oriented to the thinking-oriented senses, the sense of speech, the sense of thought and the sense of self. A piece of music or a conversation cannot be captured, it develops on the timeline. We have therefore become familiar with three sensory or modal areas: the physical senses, the spatial senses and the temporal senses.

Senses and the relationship to architecture

In the following, the references to architectural perception and architectural elements will be briefly outlined. As a rule, we remain completely unaware of our bodily senses. They anchor us in the world and allow us to experience the qualities of architecture directly in our own bodies (see diagram). If everything is harmonious and nothing throws us off balance, we are usually not aware of it. We move safely in the space, but have no conscious experience of our bodies. The architectural references to these senses are the spatial directions, the construction and statics, supports and loads, the dynamics in the space, the materiality, the natural, structured material, the surfaces. The following examples illustrate this well: If we are in a room with vertical windows, we can feel these verticals in our back and in our spine. We are straightened up. If the room has “horizontal” windows, we can feel the need in our body to move into a horizontal position. If we look at sloping pillars, an activity is generated in us to bring ourselves upright against this slant. We experience the need to restore the vertical. We are usually not aware of these perceptions, but they have an effect on us. As the example of the sense of smell shows, we are only half aware of our perception of the spatial senses. They only enter our consciousness when we direct our attention to them, but they still create an indirect, unconscious impression. For example, we perceive odors as described above when they create a great difference and discrepancy to our expectations. So there is something unexpected. The sense of temperature or warmth also only comes into our consciousness when we feel cold or too warm. We are only partially aware of the activity of our sense of sight. For example, when we are driving a car, we perceive very few things consciously. Who can say afterwards the color of the house that we drove past if it didn’t catch our attention? We can assign special architectural perceptions to this sensory area. Smells, colors, light and shadow, room temperature and mood are the elements in architecture with which we experience the atmosphere, the perception of space. Let us illustrate this with an example. Imagine entering a room painted in vivid terracotta, where the light falls in through a window and the window bars draw shadows on the blue-grey terrazzo floor. We feel the protection and warmth of the walls and the coolness of the floor – color and light make us feel cheerful. “Our hearts open up.” Our attention is usually required to perceive the senses of time. These are the senses that are only active with awareness. We use these senses to perceive the following architectural qualities: the sound of the room, the proportions, the shape and form, the idea of the room and even the essence of the building. When we allow the impressions of the previous senses to take effect on us, the room speaks to us. Through our own speaking or singing in the room, the room responds through its acoustics, its reverberation or its acoustic dullness. We experience the regularity of its proportions and we sense the shape of the room.

Awareness in perception

If we want to practise this deeper perception of architecture, we need to develop more awareness, especially for the perception of the physical and spatial senses. After all, they also form the basis for the higher senses of time. Without awareness of our own bodily perception, we cannot classify our sensory experiences. We lack the basis for understanding how space affects us. However, this is the basis for consciously using architectural qualities when designing architecture. In the visual perception exercise, we have seen that we are initially drawn out towards the object, but are then thrown back into ourselves. We compare the image with our earlier perceptions, the concepts we developed from them and our ideas. We then project these back into the world. If we want to develop our perception further, we should proceed with the following intention. Let us extend our visual process, leave behind our intentional gaze for individual details and move around the room with an expanded vision, trying first to sense and then to raise our awareness of what the other senses are showing us. It will be an exercise to remain completely in perception, to expand the pure process of perception. For example, when seeing, to observe exactly what is happening, which other senses are involved. Where do resonances arise in our body, in our sensations, in our cognitive life? If we try to stay in the space with our perception for as long as possible, we can experience that new things also emerge, as our ideas do not immediately close off the perceptual space. We must practice expanding our perception, immersing ourselves in our perception, controlling our flow of thoughts and protecting ourselves from quick judgment and concepts, increasing our consciousness, our awareness. It is a simultaneous experience on three levels. Through the body-related senses I have the perception “I am within myself”, through the space-related senses the perception “I am in the world, in space” and through the time-related senses “I am in the flow, stream of thoughts, in the presence of mind”. If we manage to keep our sensory attention in space with full awareness and endure the tension, we will be able to observe that something is coming towards us from the future, the timeless space of thought, that something is opening up. In architecture, the building idea, the essential, can reveal itself as the essence of architecture.

Further reading:

– Wulf Schneider: Sinn und Un-Sinn – Umwelt sinn-

in architecture and design,

Wiesbaden / Berlin 1987.

– Rudolf Steiner: Themes from the Complete Works 3,

On the theory of the senses, Stuttgart 1981.

– Arthur Zajonc: The shared history of

Light and Consciousness, Hamburg, 1997.

After I was given the task of coordinating the architecture department of the Section for Fine Arts at the Goetheanum in 2000, I encountered various approaches to looking at buildings. The one that occurred most frequently and was labelled “Goetheanistic” by its representatives involved first of all a precise description of the object of observation. Lines, shapes, colours etc. were described in detail, e.g. in a group exercise. However, no particular insight was gained concerning the impact, meaning or essence of the building. What usually happened was that, after the description, people went back to emotional judgements and impressions, which seemed rather questionable to me. Certainly a close observation of the object can be helpful, but a deeper understanding of the architecture cannot come from the description of the physical features alone. I had the feeling that it should be more about the inner attitude of the viewer if one wants to perceive deeper aspects. One of my main concerns was to arrive at an objective experience of the influence of architecture on people. This theme plays a central role both in judging the quality of a building and in design, when the planner feels responsibility for the results of his work. Such a sense of responsibility is one of the foundations, perhaps the most important, for the emergence of organic design, which differs from other approaches precisely in its rejection of the arbitrary. I then tried to look at buildings with the attitude of “pure perception”, that is, to allow the perceptions to have an effect on me in a contemplative state without prejudices, personal feelings and thought associations and to observe the consequences of this effect. It is easier to put oneself in such a position if one engages in the exercises of the anthroposophical path of training. Thanks to this consciously practised way of looking, I soon realised that different architectural forms also evoke different sensations in the physical body and that different elements of the same building can be reflected in different places in the body and, depending on their design, cause certain resonances. If you are able to observe these effects in the body closely, you can also gain an understanding of the unconscious influence of architecture on people – right down to the civilising aspects. For example, one can experience how the point of a Gothic arch causes a feeling of concentration in one point of the body – usually in the forehead or chest area, depending on the individual’s disposition – whereby the two halves of the arch and the pillars awaken a calming feeling of downward currents in the limbs, which at the same time stimulates the individual to straighten up. From this, one can understand the general effect of Gothic in strengthening individual consciousness as a precursor to the Renaissance. Such results are not subjective, because experience shows that all people who can develop the contemplative attitude described above – and with a little guidance, almost everyone can – develop similar sensations. Over the years, I have undertaken contemplations with groups of architects and lay people from very different countries and age groups, and I have always been amazed at how quickly most of the participants were able to come to their own objective perceptions. Even those who find it difficult to abandon the usual way of looking at things can usually, with a little effort, direct their attention to the effects in their own bodies. I initially developed the approach described in connection with architectural forms consisting of constructive or decorative elements. In the perception of space, the single elements and the construction do not play the main role. The effect of space is also different from that of forms. It does not manifest itself through its influence on certain areas of the body. In order to perceive it consciously, one must also become active in the contemplative posture and feel the spatial boundaries inwardly, as if one were adapting one’s own body to the spatial form. It is also important to feel the shape of the space as if in an inner movement. When you do this, you experience the effect of the space on your body and soul. It is more difficult to grasp than the effect of the architectural elements, especially with complex designs. But even with relatively simple rooms, you get different impressions from different points of view. The task is then to bring the variety of experiences together inwardly in order to gradually reach an experience of the essential qualities. In order to practise this kind of spatial observation before moving on to real situations, I often first suggest group work in which the participants create different room layouts from cardboard or plastic sheets measuring around 1 x 1.5 metres and try to experience them from the inside. Even under such simple and somewhat abstract circumstances, the participants get strong impressions and can thus experience and compare the effect of shapes such as polygons and ovals. If you change the basic shape – e.g. from a triangle to a hexagon – without the viewers leaving the interior space formed, you can even notice in the facial expressions and gestures how immediately the mood changes in the transition from one shape to the other.

Again, it is obvious from such experiments that the effects experienced are by no means subjective and arbitrary. However, they remain largely unconscious for those who do not pay attention to them. The described approach helps to bring such unconscious processes to light in order to develop an understanding of the consequences of one’s own decisions, also with regard to design practice. In addition to the influences on the physical body and its etheric stream of forces, there are also those that primarily take place in the soul realm. An eminent example of this are the effects of colour and light, but also aspects of form that are less constructive and more plastic – decorative, like the ornaments in a historical building. This does not mean that the influences on the body have no effect on the soul; in fact, they are generally stronger than the pure soul effects. However, the latter are easier to grasp consciously because they take place in an area where people are more alert and used to observing. For this reason, it is unfortunately often the case that people tend to limit themselves to the emotional level when observing architecture without delving deeper. For a holistic experience, however, it is important to include all levels, especially as the mental level is more subjective than the physical level. I therefore find it helpful when looking at buildings to first become aware of the effects on the physical and only then to include the psychological effects. You will also realise that a large part of what is experienced in the soul becomes understandable through the influences on the physical. In the sense of Rudolf Steiner’s building impulse, this experience could be described as projecting the forces of the physical body into space. Thus, by observing one’s own body under the influence of architecture, one can experience the forces that have created the forms.

This article was first published in the magazine “Stil”, Johanni 2024, 46th year Issue 2

Dear friends,

Here are some news about our past events and others to come:

TRAINING

“The human dimension of architecture”

The last training session we organised in Chatou from 8 to 13 April was a resounding success, generating a great deal of enthusiasm among participants and instructors alike.

The aim was to design a personal residence, taking into account the elements of the site, the climate and the needs of the individual, in order to create a living space that is in harmony with people and nature.

Everyone left with their drawings and models, happy to have gone through a process of creation and self-building.

The course, which was open to everyone – architects, designers, specialists and ordinary residents keen to take part in this kind of construction – was enjoyed by all.

Some of them were able to receive funding from a training fund.

We’re looking into the possibility of building more in-depth training programm modules that could be spread over weekends.

EDUCATING PEOPLE ABOUT ARCHITECTURE

“For a pedagogy of living and inhabiting”.

This year, there will be no summer academy at Cantercel, but we plan to meet in small groups to share our experiences and reflect together on the theme of education in architecture.

We also want to establish contacts with teachers or former teachers from architecture schools to enrich our thinking and forge links and even partnerships.

The first meeting will take place in Cantercel on the 21 and 22 of August 2024.

The second will take place in Paris on 10th November. This will provide an opportunity to invite other speakers who are closer to the Paris region.

SYMPOSIUM ON IMRE MAKOVECZ

Saturday 9 November 2024 at the Phare Lighthouse – Paris

We have invited Nathalie Grekofski from Budapest to talk to us about the great Hungarian architect Makovecz, whom she had the good fortune to meet during the last years of his life.

For this event, we invite you to book the day, which will be devoted to a workshop, a presentation and discussion.

It will take place at the Phare Lighthouse, 11 Rue Neuve Popincourt 75011 Paris.

BACK – SYMPOSIUM ON RICARDO PORRO

On Saturday the 06 April, Isabelle Val de Flor presented several works from the Cuban architect, sculptor and painter Ricardo PORRO. A rhythmic slide show took us on a tour of the architect’s works in the Paris region.

This was followed by an excellent open discussion with the participation of Katherine Fiumani and Gilles Jacquemot, who knew him well. Véronique Lours shared her experience as a architect student with the man she describes as the ‘Diva of architecture’.

A colourful, sometimes exuberant character, Porro, the Cuban exile who ‘succeeded in emancipating himself from the rigours of teaching’, expressed his intention to ‘give a poetic framework to architecture’.

During the three days of this seminar, kindly hosted in the Great Hall of the University Campus, work was done with the aim of highlighting some fundamental aspects of human perception of space. In the first session, on Friday afternoon, Luigi Fiumara, Martin Riker and Willem-Jan Beeren opened the proceedings by laying the groundwork for the exercises planned for the following days in some religious buildings with very different characteristics.

Friday 8 March

The meeting takes place at the first and oldest site of the Alanus University: a few wooden buildings lined up on the top of the Alfter hill, surrounded by large meadows where the sun shines beautifully in the cold March air. There is also a large brown earthen fence with two horses resting in the sun. There are about 30 of us in the room, at least half of them students from the university, the others from all over: Germany, Holland, Austria, even the United States. Then there are us Italians, from the Living Organic Architecture group, three of whom were present. In this first afternoon session, the speakers will present their introductory topics one by one; the first is Luigi Fiumara. Luigi introduced the theme of architecture as an extension of physical forces operating at an unconscious level, which we can partly perceive by observing what happens in our bodies when we are in a certain space, exposed to certain shapes. To demonstrate this, he had set up an experiment using large cardboard panels placed side by side to simulate enclosed spaces of different shapes, in which people took turns expressing their impressions and describing how these were transformed by changing position. The idea was to show how each of the different external shapes worked inwards, starting with a narrow triangular space, then a hexagon, and finally a pentagon. The most surprising thing about this experiment, which was later confirmed by the same one carried out the following day in much larger spaces, was to compare thedifferent impressions spontaneously expressed by those present and to see how much they were shared by the majority of participants. Inside the triangular enclosure, for example, the strong ‘acute’ character of the space produced a physically felt ‘sense of ‘closure’ in the chest area, like a kind of breathing contraction, a general stiffening of the disposition, which became more acute the more one stood in front of one of the sides; the effect of oppression increased along with the rigidity of breathing.

In the rapid transition from the triangle to the hexagon, the inner feeling changed, this time releasing (again in the chest) a shared sense of ‘openness’ which seemed to allow deeper, ‘softer’ and more relaxed breathing. Despite the presence of the clearly visible corners, the more perceptible ‘circularity’ of the hexagon leads one to feel a greater ‘centredness’ within oneself, rather than an expansion free of limits and obstacles. A further change in spatial perception resulted from the transformation of the shape into a pentagon. Again, the angles were sharpened, but instead of producing the vaguely claustrophobic sensation experienced in the triangular space, the dominant sensation shifted from the chest to the head, as if the sudden directionality of this new shape, accompanied by its expansion (and this was particularly felt when one positioned oneself on the side opposite the corner), acted at the level of concentration, of thought, with less focus on the body and more on reasoning. These observations on the pentagonal shape have led to further considerations that undoubtedly need to be explored. I would like to add that the consideration of these aspects cannot be separated from the attention to the quality of designed spaces; from the consideration of what we actually experience of a building when we stand inside it, without consciously grasping it while engaged in something else. Of course, these values cannot be mathematised, but nevertheless we cannot but consider them essential in preparing certain spaces for certain functions. On the basis of these observations, we can say that design is “perceiving with intuition” and therefore being able to foresee the kind of effect the space can have on the people who will use it.

In the second lecture, Martin Riker took up the subject of the 12 senses described by Steiner and how they can be attributed to precise aspects of spatial perception. He used various examples to show how the mind is naturally inclined to give meaning to what it perceives, even to the point of filling in the missing pieces in the case of fragmented impressions. In order to practise perception properly, it is necessary to try to counteract this tendency by avoiding any association or even unconscious attempt to attach an arbitrary meaning to the object, derived from our personal experience. Through the description of the diagram presented (below), for example, he emphasised the difference between what we perceive inside us and what we perceive outside us, and how these two distinct resonances are intertwined, also describing the kind of forms that are perceived in their entirety only through the passage of time, as in the case of music, to then go on to emphasise the (designable) relationship between a space and what happens inside it, making it a whole capable of supporting the type of activity through the rendering of specific, appropriate sensations.

The last lecture of the day was given by Willem-Jan Beeren on the no less important topic of sound propagation in space and how much the perception of a place, a situation, a narrative, is also influenced by this aspect. Background voices, street noises, sounds, melodies… how the ear in its structural complexity is able to attribute spatial dimensions and characters from sound impressions, just as the eye is able to do through shapes, colours, movement, etc. To better render the concepts expressed, Willelm-Jan has quoted excerpts from texts by Juhani Pallasmaa, which I have transcribed, in order to better convey the concepts expressed:

“… sight isolate, whereas sound incorporates; vision is directional, whereas sound is omni-directional. The sense of sight implies exteriority, but sound creates an experience of interiority. I regard an object, but sound approaches me; the eye reaches, but the ear receives. Buildings do not react to our gaze, but they do return our sounds back to our ears. (…)”

“Hearing structures and articulates the experience and understanding of space. We are not normally aware of the significance of hearing in spatial experience, although sound often provides the temporal continuum in which visual impressions are embedded. When the soundtrack is removed from a film, for instance, the scene loses its plasticity and sense of continuity and life. (…)“

“Sight is the sense of the solitary observer, whereas hearing creates a sense of connection and solidariety; our look wanders lonesomely in the dark depths of a cathedral, but the sound of the organ makes us immediately experience our affinity with the space. (…) the sound measures space and makes its scale comprehensible.”

(Juhani Pallasmaa – The Eyes of the Skin, pag. 49)

The way all the sounds in a place interact with each other determines the (sound) quality of that place. Every space is an acoustic space. In addition, Willem-Jan has highlighted some particularly interesting sites on these aspects; intended as design support tools for architects, designers, etc.:

https://www.wfae.net/

https://urbanidentity.info/

As well as examples of artists who have worked with sound: Bernhard Leitner: Space experience with sounds; Max Neuhaus: Times Square.

Saturday 9 March

Perception exercises in the Cologne Cathedral and in the Hohe Domkirche St. Peter und Maria

The visits were organised according to the premises indicated yesterday. Divided into groups, we experienced space from the three points of view described yesterday afternoon. In the first exercise, we turned our attention to the pure perception of forms and space, without intellectual filters and mediations, focusing on the bodily effects of the observed elements. We began by doing the exercise in relation to the arch that separates the transept from the nave. The apex of the pointed arch was recognised as causing a sense of punctual concentration in the forehead or chest area, depending on the person, while the pillars were associated with a sense of vertical flow from top to bottom in the arms or torso to the legs. This flow also induces a more upright posture. The effects described led to an understanding of the general effect of Gothic in the area of strengthening individual consciousness as a precursor to the Renaissance. Attention was then turned back to the opposite side of the nave, namely the full-height arch with the wide dark and sombre cornice at the exit. In the case of this second arch, the effect of concentration was less pronounced due to the width of the moulding band, which curves seamlessly from the piers to form the ashlars of the arch and therefore does not produce a punctual arch key. On the other hand, the width of the piers and the relative narrowness of the passage between them accentuate the sense of the vertical flow in the torso, which here appears wider and more invasive, creating a sense of greater solidity or seriousness and connection to the earth, and at the same time a certain oppression. It is no coincidence that these effects are linked to the movement towards the exit, towards the city, towards the return to everyday life. And all of this is diametrically opposed to the sensation felt on entering, when the luminous grandeur of the apse and the extraordinarily high naves, flooded with natural light filtered through the large windows, produced a clear physical sensation of loss of weight at the level of the head, of height, of evanescence, as if a sucking force were acting, tending to project forward, in the body and in the will.

Bringing attention to the sphere of sound, the nature of the exercise was to try to make hearing predominant, in order to pick up the differences between one space and another through the perception of sound alone. In the underground crypt, for example, a kind of square box with a low ceiling, the background sounds generated by the footsteps and voices of the many visitors bounced clearly off the stone perimeter walls, giving a precise volumetric impression of the room. It was as if, with the eyes closed, sound became volume. The sense of the experiment became even clearer when moving from the centre of the hall to one of the side walls, the sound also moved completely to one side, redrawing the mental space from this new position. Then walking through the tunnel around the staircase that led to the surface as one approached the exit, the closed sound opened up more and more, also expanding the sense of space around it as well. In the nave, on the other hand, the sound rises upwards, making the height of the space perceptible.

St. Gertrud Church

The same perceptual approaches lead, in the case of the Church of St. Gertrud, to quite different results precisely because of the different architectural conformation. Here, we find ourselves in a large, completely free hall, devoid of central elements but characterised by an irregular perimeter and a facetted, angular roof, which strongly influences both the perception of the space both at the level of bodily sensations and sound effects. The lack of directional scanning makes the sound confused, rumbling and ‘circular’, whose origin is not understood, like overlapping echoes that fill the box spreading freely. The effect is reminiscent of the echoes of chant in ancient monasteries, a chant that becomes a vibrating instrument. The facetted ceiling ‘cuts’ and fragments the sound into successive segments, as if a sudden noise, such as a clap or a thump, is broken up into tiny fragments after reaching a certain height.

The dark, medieval, cave-like character of the dark, the porous surfaces and the heavy, massive appearance are the first impressions on entering. On a bodily level, very noticeable effects were immediately perceived at the level of the head, as if the articulated shape of the ceiling created an uncomfortable effect, similar to the impression of a foreign body leaning across the forehead. Indeed, the angular heaviness of the fan-shaped elements above the room is very noticeable, especially one of them, which is at a lower level than the others. But if you stay in a place for a long time, if you immerse yourself in it, you become more and more aware of the effect it can have, as in this case, on your sense of balance and proprioception. A detail such as the predominance of the orthogonal axis in relation to the central one that leads from the entrance to the altar, together with the lack of depth of the back wall, is felt here as an obstacle to the ample breathing that one would have in the presence of a three-dimensional apse, together with a general sense of imbalance that generates disorientation. And this can be felt all the way down the torso to the legs. Observing, even intuitively, the strong asymmetry that characterises this space, and feeling its effects, provides useful observations for the design of classrooms, for example, where an incorrectly assessed shape can easily lead to pupils having difficulty concentrating and a general feeling of confusion.

DiTiB Central Mosque

The experience of the mosque, for those who, like me, were entering it for the first time, led to broader observations about the different cultural and religious aspects and the architectural spaces derived from them. First of all, we find ourselves in a large complex conceived as a centre for cultural and social, as well as religious, aggregation. The mosque is therefore a building that forms part of a larger complex in which the practical functions (cultural centre, Imams’ school, meeting rooms and a library) are concentrated in buildings with a rectilinear shape, while the space intended for worship is entirely characterised by the curved line and general roundness. Nothing of the Christian character we are used to is to be found in this space, which is on the contrary sunny, open and joyful. The interior of the mosque consists of a huge circular space covered by a large dome made up of two roughly symmetrical shells joined by a curved perimeter window that runs through it from one side to the other.

The floor of the circular room is covered with a blue-turquoise long-pile carpet which,when illuminated by natural light, ‘lights up’ with the blue of the sky and harmonises with it, symbolising – the guide explained to us – of a lightening of the ground that ‘elevates’ and takes away the importance of earthly aspects. The guide explained that this space was meant to suggest freedom and lightness, spiritual communion with the divine. The guide’s long explanations, the curiosity, the questions that many wanted to ask, took up much of the attention. Certainly Steiner’s recommendation – to separate sensory perception from the system of interpretations – way very difficult to put into practice here. The attempt to perceive the space was influenced by our feeling of detachment from this type of community and our lack of knowledge of the customs and symbols of the place of worship. It was inevitable to realise how heavily our perceptual apparatus depends on our experience and culture of everything.

Conclusions

On Sunday morning, the last half-day of the seminar, we met to share our impressions of the experience. We put up the sketches that each participant had made from memory, representing the main impression of each of the three places. We noted, albeit briefly, what had already been noted, namely that the dominant impressions were common. The observations varied, but one essential point seems to me to be the way inwhich architecture, through its mission, prepares space for its profound function. In the case of this type of spaces, not only religious but extended to a population, the basis is the construction of a specific consciousness, that lies behind everything, including perception. The visit to the mosque also raised the question of what is the ‘sense of the sacred’; what are the elements that really give a religious architecture the ‘sense of the sacred’ (which for us, coming from the Christian tradition, was totally absent in the mosque).

In ancient times, the Christian space had precise characteristics, which have certainly evolved, but which still correspond to today with our ‘sense of the sacred’. They were spaces designed to ecourage contemplation and prayer, (enclosed, closed, austere, enveloping, not very bright, more or less decorated, with small openings in the thick masonry to favour defined beams of light directed towards specific points in the interior, …). The language of Christianity made use of recurring elements that favoured the coming together of believers in the recognition of the same symbols, and this is certainly true of any other religious culture, in which the associative and interpretive codes are different. In the case of the Cologne mosque, it is not only this aspect that be taken into account, but also the strong aggregative function of the entire complex for a foreign community. Hence the strong distinctive architectural character of a community.

Neja Häbler, Christoph Schmidt (Germany)

In May, at the Alanus University in Alfter, young and adult practicing architects and architecture students interested in Organic Architecture gathered to exchange experiences and deepen the theme of “Intention and inspiration in the design process“. Such occasions are very meaningful to me, as they represent a chance to meet directly people from around the world who are, in their own way, trying to work in a similar direction.This gathering had also the particularity that a couple students from Alanus became an active and a vital part of its organization, which I found pretty inspiring. This active participations of students who, like myself, are curious to learn and experience the theory and practice of architecture through the lens of Rudolf Steiner’s worldview, was a novelty to me. This workshop, that was attended by numerous students alongside architects, was characterized by a joyful and enriching atmosphere full of genuine curiosity and enthusiasm. The will of sharing, a thirst for knowledge, a curiosity that wants to be fulfilled, the desire of finding something meaningful were tangible energies that the meeting brought forth. The balance between generations is something pretty unusual within the niche of Anthroposophical Architecture. This unique environment led at the end of the meeting, after various contributions and practical exercises during the first days, to fundamental questions on the interplay between form and matter, the intrinsic meaning of sustainability and the essential importance of the experience of the architectural space. Future and new gatherings like this are essential to start building a diverse and robust network of young and adult architects who need constant coming together in order to explore new questions and solutions fitting the present time.

Nicolas Gemelli (Italy)

Also the two workshops, one in English and one in German, were an occasion of experiencing how different generations of architects address one and the same task, and of exchanging and comparing various approaches. In the final conversation several questions and themes arose and became object of discussion, for instance the relationship between art and architecture, the choice between strongly individualized design and flexibility, how to understand sustainability in the context of organic design, how to come to a real experience of the quality of space and architecture, to which extent the design of a space affects the social life within itself. It was encouraging for me to see how interested the young participants were in these issues. At the same time I had the impression that many of the aspects we touched are still unexplored for them and that it would be helpful to deepen them in future meetings. In general, I am very thankful for this occasion of getting to know more closely the new students of the Alanus University, who are certainly different from the ones I teach in Ukraine and Italy. I hope this was the beginning of an exchange which will continue in the next years.

A most enriching part of this workshop was to come in contact and exchange ideas with a generation of future architects, and at the same time to exchange and hear from experienced professionals. As I seat between these two poles, I reflect upon the themes brought about and I can say that it all comes down to culture, sense of place and natural environment when it comes to architectural intentions. Each culture, place and environment live with its own questions and its own particular answers that can only be dealt with from within-out. Perhaps if such kind of workshops could be done in different locations, the processes would enrich and diversify the outcomes, along with mixing the work teams not just by language but also a mix of age and gender etc.. The question of inspiration is of the outmost importance in an age where AI can give all the answers making the architects imagination handicap and forgotten, though I am convinced that algorithms will never replace the human capacity of Imagination, Inspiration and Intuition. The theme of inspiration still needs a whole lot of investigation, imagination, and application at a personal and community level within architecture, to start to comprehend it and thus allow a complete flow of the Will of the Spirit to be active in us as we and specially our creative thoughts become the future architecture.

Cecilia Ramirez Corzo (Mexico-Japan)