Communicating thoughts Alke Gröppel-Wegener Manchester Metropolitan Universtiy, England

Transcription

1 Communicating thoughts Alke Gröppel-Wegener Manchester Metropolitan Universtiy, England Research is traditionally communicated through writing. While face-to-face conversations (or presentations) are not always possible or practical, written documents can be multiplied and distributed fairly easily. They can also be kept, contributing to the building of a shared knowledge base. Currently, however, there is an ongoing discussion, particularly in the fields of art and design, whether there are other ways of successfully presenting research. In the context of this debate, the question is raised whether it is possible to let people engage with information through letting them experience it rather than presenting it on a purely intellectual level. Although many novels prove that it is possible with words to let the reader engage on an emotional level, this is not the type of narrative that goes into conventional research publications, like a PhD thesis for example. Through looking at other means of communication the question arises whether an artefact is able to not just illustrate, but argue a concept on its own. This paper explores architectural strategies used by museums and theme parks to find out whether there is scope to use them when communicating research. Museums provide access to information in a different way than purely written materials. Here, objects operate in quite literally different dimensions than the written text. However, museums are often more than an archive-type collection of artefacts. They are special places because in them different rules apply than in everyday life. They often try to emulate a time gone by, bringing together objects that in that density would never have been found in everyday life. Michel Foucault defined the museum as a 'heterotopia' a space different from everyday spaces, a different world. There are also, and probably in every culture, in every civilization, real places, actual places, places that are designed into the very institution of society, which are sorts of actually realized utopias in which the real emplacements, all the other real emplacements that can be found within the culture are, at the same time, represented, contested, and reversed, sorts of places that are outside all places, although they are actually localizable. (Foucault, 1998, p.178)

2 The museum can be seen as a heterotopia in that sense a space that offers diversion from the 'normal' everyday life. The Imperial War Museum of the North is definitely a building that seems out of place in everyday life. Upon seeing it on the big screen as the lair of some Dr Doom or other, as the headquarters for Jedi Knights we probably wouldn't think twice about it and simply enjoy the aesthetics but nestling beside the Manchester Ship Canal, let's say on the way to work, it looks slightly strange. Curves of steel and hardly a right angle in sight, the IWMN, designed by Daniel Libeskind, seems sheer madness, and leaves one wondering not just how anyone ever came up with the idea for a building like this, but also how it was possible to persuade anyone to build it in Manchester. As Bob Rogers, designer of theme parks and exposition pavilions, argues, pure architectural sculpture can tell the whole story: For example, at the 1889 Exposition the Eiffel Tower spoke a powerful, contemporary and controversial message about the might of French engineering and technology. It symbolized the possibilities of the industrial revolution. It was a bridge to heaven, announcing that industry was the new religion. (Rogers, 1999, unpaged) The IWMN is one of a number of museums where the building makes a statement about the experience to be had inside. The often spectacular and media-attention grabbing architecture that achieves this is merely a side effect. The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, for example, keeps works of art in display spaces within a building that is a beautiful object, a work of art in itself. Architecture can be used to relate the message. The Imperial War Museum of the North is a building that does not stop by providing a striking shell in order to attract attention, the statement the building makes on the outside is part of the whole mission of the museum from the very beginning. Libeskind promised in his project proposal that the IWMN would offer substance for the imagination and the daring of the unexpected (Libeskind, 2001, p.62f) and that includes more than a collection housed in a great building. He aimed at delivering more than just an exciting shell. Consequently a space has been created where the inside complements the outside, and the outside completes the inside. Architectural means have been used to allow the visitor to undergo an experience, and whether that 'visitor' is a person who just happens to pass the building on the way to work or somebody who actually enters is just a matter of how intensive that experience is going to be. The site by the Manchester Ship Canal is not only important because it is in Trafford, an area where munitions were produced and that consequently was bombed heavily, but also because it provides a physical setting that allows the outside to be seen, and as such used in the concept. If the IWMN had to be integrated into a street the impact of the outside would probably have been reduced to a façade, a lobby at most. By the Canal, however, the whole form of the building can be used, which means that one can meditate on conflict without even entering" (Davenport, 2001). His reflection on the nature of conflict and the site led Libeskind to what we can see today. He describes that he started with the notion of the fact that the world has opened up through communications and information it has fallen apart in a certain way and it has come back together in a very unexpected new accessibility to what it was. It is different now than it was even three years ago... and I think the forms of architecture, which are of course very spatial, have to communicate that same story on a different level. (Clarke, 2001)

3 The concept behind the IWMN is that of the contemporary world shattered, exploded into fragments but then reassembled so they reconstitute a world again (Clarke, 2001). This is translated into three dimensions, creating a fundamental emblem of conflict (Libeskind, 2001, p.63), by imagining a shattered globe, the Earth, with three of its fragments having landed in some kind of heap on the site where they have been put back together not as part of a globe but as something new. And seen like this, the building doesn't seem mad anymore, it suddenly makes perfect sense. The building is a constellation composed of three interlocking shards. The Earth Shard forms the generous and flexible museum space. It signifies the open, earthly realm of conflict and war. The Air Shard, with its projected images, observatory, and education spaces, serves as a dramatic entry into the museum. The Water Shard forms the platform for viewing the Canal with its restaurant, cafe, deck, and performance space. These three shards together, Earth, Air, and Water, concretise twentieth-century conflicts, which has never taken place on an abstract piece of paper but has been fought on dramatic terrain by the infantry, in the skies by the air force, and on the sea by battleships. (Libeskind, 2001, p.63) Considering that the core idea of Libeskind's approach to building the IWMN was the shattered globe reassembled, it becomes clear that this was never going to be a traditional museum. Although displaying part of the collection of the Imperial War Museum is part of this Northern branch's programme, the IWMN was not conceived as a gallery where archive-type exhibitions could be held. The spatial exploration of architecture plays a big part in Libeskind's design for the IWMN. A building can be experienced as an unfinished journey. It can awaken our desires, propose imaginary conclusions. It is not about form, or image, or text, but about the experience, which is not to be simulated. A building can awaken us to the fact that it has never been anything more than a huge question mark. (Libeskind, 2001, p.74) In other words Libeskind uses his architecture to create a museum experience for the visitor that is not tied to the exhibition of artefacts alone. The spaces play an important part in realising the concept set forth in the mission. Indeed, architecture can be used as a narrative strategy. In fact there is one type of heterotopia that utilises it extensively: the theme park. Here the primary purpose of every building is to help tell the story, while its existence as a building comes only second (The Imagineers, 1996, p.84). Theme parks are heterotopias in the entertainment sector that can be distinguished from amusement parks in that they are about telling stories and not about providing exciting white-knuckle rides. A theme park is a heavily regulated environment, much like a film set you can walk through: everything that is there has been put there for a reason. The buildings here are not simple structures or studio facades, but whole events" (The Imagineers, 1996, p.84). They are designed to create a sense of time, place and mood, to transport the visitor to a different land within a single instant. Beyond telling the story all parts of theme park architecture are conceived to provide a very specific overall experience. The typical theme park is designed to be an environment where the guest forgets about the worries of everyday life and does not get tired out too much by thinking. Indecision and anxiety make for tiredness. Figuring things out. Not knowing where to go and what to look at" (Marling, 1997, p.83). The environment here provides pure escapism because it is designed to be pleasant, friendly and

4 reassuring (The Imagineers, 1996, p.84). This is done, for example, by observing what does not work in the real world and eliminating these factors in the newly built fantasy. The architectural evolution of most major cities is the result of a series of accidental layers, things building upon other things without thoughtful arrangement. In many instances, this creates a lack of order, which, in turn, creates visual conflict (The Imagineers, 1996, p.84). Once inside a theme park there is no visual conflict. There are no stores battling for your attention. Everything magically fits together, an aesthetically unthreatening environment where [y]ou are emboldened and soothed by clean streets, smiling faces, happy colors, and the implicit promise that here, at least, everything will be OK" (Marling, 1997, p.83). This is reinforced even further by the play with architectural scale. For example, 'Main Street' - the entrance to the Disney parks - is built as a model. The details at sidewalk level are almost, but not quite, life-size and the first and second floor levels get smaller and smaller very quickly in 'forced perspective'. Walt Disney said that this made the street a toy (Marling, 1997, p.81), contributing as Marling puts it to the aura of well-being, fantasy, and delight" (Marling, 1997, p.81). This type of space works because it allows the visitors to experience a different world by immersing in it. A cinema or traditional theatre performance pulls you into a different world by dimming the lights and letting you sink into a story played out in front of you, they work frontally. The theme park, however, works environmentally, it is 360 around you, and because of that architectural strategies not only work, they are necessary. Since they are employed it has become possible for theme park designers to develop their own speciality, as Marling calls it, the 'architecture of reassurance'. In contrast, for museums it is of course not necessary (or even desired) to evoke in their 'users' a homely feel. However, the Imperial War Museum of the North does not aim to create a neutral canvas in form of a white cube gallery, nor does it try to build the everything-will-be-alright environment of a theme park. It is an example of a very specific type of architecture which aims to produce buildings that provoke thoughts based on the concepts that carry the exhibition(s) inside. Conceptually-led it can aim to create an intellectual experience, an architecture of uncomfortable thoughts so to speak, as would befit a museum dealing with war. In contemporary society, the creation of a war museum is extremely problematic. Tragedies and catastrophes cannot really be celebrated and should not be glorified. War, on the other hand, should under no circumstances be forgotten, it needs to be commemorated somehow. For Libeskind coming to terms with a war museum in the twenty-first century is to deal with the significance of twentieth-century conflicts" (Libeskind, 2001, p.147). He emphasises that it is about understanding conflict rather than just one bygone event, thus making it relevant for what is happening now. It is not just about the catastrophe of conflict, but also about the potential for good. It is growth, not simply nostalgia" (Davenport, 2001, unpaged). The architect saw the potential of a war museum to go further than a commemoration, and consequently came up with a programme that not just nostalgically refers to some collection but goes further and involves people in an exploration that he considers to be deep and ever relevant" (Clarke, 2001). In order to encourage the visitors to deal with the issues of war and conflict for themselves Libeskind aimed to provide them with an intellectual experience, and - what is more - one that might encompass trains of thought that could be uncomfortable.

5 However, no matter how important the setting and sculptural components of the Imperial War Museum of the North may be, at the end of the day it is the combination of content and spaces in the planning that is vital for devising thought provoking experiences. In his proposal Libeskind clarified that this is not just a highly symbolic building by emphasising the importance of integrating programme and architectural space. He stated that "What makes the IWM of the North proposal unique is the integration of architecture, exhibition design engineering, and a vision of history and the future. [...] The proposal articulates a wholly new vision of a museum [...]" (Libeskind, 2001, p. 63). The integration of all aspects of design in order to make an exhibition happen might not be common, but it is not that new either. Barry Howard, a designer whose company specialises in creating (mostly interior) museums in the USA, describes how he and his colleagues took the opportunity to translate the philosophy that form and media have to be dictated by content from the Worlds Fair Pavilions to the museum world. From the outset, I envisioned the museum as theater, scripted from the complex patterns of human and natural history, annotated by authentic collections, and played out on a dramatic stage of leading-edge presentation media. Involve the visitor, entertain them, immerse them in the experience, and they will learn. (Howard, 1999, unpaged) In the beginning this approach was deemed heretical by museum administrative and curatorial staff. For the most part, these individuals perceived the museum as a repository for collections under their control, and viewed exhibitions as an annoying but necessary sharing of their treasures with the public" (Howard, 1999, unpaged). These almost snobbish attitudes of the museum staff are connected to the perception that the museum is part of academia and not concerned with entertainment. However, the roots of the museum can be found in heterotopias such as travelling menageries and collections that were displayed in cabinets of curiosities. These were mainly considered to be types of entertainment, provoking wonder by showing miracles from all over the world and, as quite often the case in a circus context, from the realm of the mythical as well. Only in the nineteenth century did the museum experience a rebirth away from its 'cousins' of the festival family it became now associated more with educational facilities such as the library. It had found its niche: to integrate collected curiosities into a meaningful context and as such to be educational. From this time on the museum was used to teach (especially to the working class), not just to provide access to the original artefacts of its collections, but first and foremost it was to uphold the one scientific truth (in modern society there still was only one). The museum was conceived to establish the values of high culture and subsequently it became an important fixture and somewhat of an authority in modern society. With the rise of mass media and popular culture and the fall of rigid class distinctions, the importance of high culture legitimised by an intellectual élite has diminished dramatically. In post-modern society the ultimate truth of rationality has been replaced by uncertainties and multiple perspectives. At the same time, the potential audience of the museum has changed quite a bit since the museum had been conceived: the public is now constantly dealing with visually based mass media. The wonders of the world have become easily accessible, they can be visited on holiday or simply viewed on a TV or computer screen within the comfort of your living room.

6 The museum seen as a heterotopia means that the gallery is only one of the possible options of organising museum space. While the traditional modern museum focused on the original object by default, based on a preconceived scientific and rational order, the post-modern museum is first and foremost idea-driven. Here the decisions how to exhibit are not taken to primarily highlight the collection (if there actually is one), but the idea that needs to be communicated leads the design. It can be turned into an informal, self-paced, three-dimensional, and multisensory (Roberts, 1997, p.7f) experience. The Imperial War Museum of the North was created to exhibit part of the Imperial War Museum's collection. Libeskind has taken this into account in the planning and the displays of the IWMN are part and parcel of the architectural experience, and vice versa" (Glancey, 2002, p.10). The very high level of architectural control underlines an individual understanding of conflict, while still holding on to the idea of an exploded globe. The IWMN is not the type of museum one enters to find out that the outside is a pretty façade, the entrance does not lead to a number of box-like rooms. Rather it keeps the shape of shards inside, the Earth Shard that houses the principal gallery is like a massive cave, the ceiling following that same curve one saw from outside. The floor is not flat either, it too is slightly curving, reminiscent of creating a global horizon that is at the same time always changing and shifting. The Water Shard is not that impressive in its dimensions, but then, since it houses the café and restaurant that would be totally inappropriate. Views of the Manchester Ship Canal are the main features here. The part that could be described as a purely architecturally created experience, however, is the Air Shard. Here, visitors can ride up to a viewing platform. The lift, like a prop from The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, climbs tenaciously up a skeletal perimeter wall angled, unnervingly, at 4.5 degrees off the vertical through a criss-crossing of steel beams to arrive at last at a walkway and viewing platform 95ft above the canal. Wind, rain and even snow can beat and whistle through hundreds of unglazed floor-to-roof slits in the walls of the museum's 180ft leaning tower that wraps around the lift, the walkway and the platform. This experience is magnificent, but it is not for the faint-hearted. The walk from the lift to the cage-like viewing platform is across a meshed steel floor: you can see down to the entrance far below. If the aim is to make visitors consider the aerial perspective of modern warfare and the precariousness of the life below that it seeks to destroy, it succeeds. (Glancey, 2002, p.10) The IWMN is certainly a space removed from everyday life. It started with the aim to create museum spaces that respond to new concepts of exhibition by showing in a concrete and visible form how the personal histories of the people in the north are woven into the fabric of twentieth-century conflict (Libeskind, 2001, p.63). When the budget was cut from 40 down to 28 million pounds, Libeskind managed to retain the essence of the project because he built it around a strong concept, that did not only concern the outside of the building but also the experience to be had inside. Here is a building of immense power and integrity, one of the first of a new wave of British museums in which the architecture and the installation of exhibits work hand-in aluminium glove (Glancey, 2002, p.10). The conceptually-led Imperial War Museum of the North and the Disney Theme Parks are interesting examples of how architecture and design can shape visitors' experiences. Where the theme park reassures, the museum can try to engage the mind in a way that

7 does not only provoke wonder, but also intellectual thought processes. Where the theme park presents one unified fantasy within its boundaries, the museum can present multiple perspectives, which can be quite uncomfortable for the visitor. They both use similar strategies to engage the mind. As has been seen with the example of the museum, these strategies have the potential to not only store information but also to make knowledge accessible through helping guests create it for themselves. The IWMN has been described as disorientating yet engagingly sane and that it has the power to disorientate and disturb visitors, encouraging them to reflect on the perils, the mechanics and above all the human cost of war" (Glancey, 2002, p.10). It aims to make its visitors think, to reflect on conflict, on a small scale as well as in a big context. As a medium for communicating research this is where it becomes problematic. Although architectural strategies might be effective in shaping visitors moods, how big the emotional impact is that it has on its visitors, if indeed there is one, and how intense this dealing with the concept is, is something that the individual visitor will have to decide on a personal level. That is what experiences are about after all. As such heterotopias like this might be able to give their visitors some form of understanding about a topic, but whether there is scope to relay precise research results needs to be tested further. References: Clarke, G (producer) 2001, The Works: Daniel Libeskind, Northstar Television for Granada Foucault, M 1998, Aesthetics, Method, and Epistemology - Essential Works of Michel Foucault ; Volume Two (ed. James D. Faubion; translated by Robert Hurley and others), London Glancey, J 2002, "War and peace and quiet" in The Guardian Howard, B 1999, "The Sherpa Speaks" (accessed ) Libeskind, D, 2001, The Space of Encounter, London: Thames & Hudson Davenport, P, 2001, Interview with Daniel Libeskind, Trafford Today Newspaper, Marling, K. A. (ed.), 1997, Designing Disney's Theme Parks - The Architecture of Reassurance Paris - New York: Flammarion Roberts, L.C., 1997 From Knowledge to Narrative - Educators and the Changing Museum, Washington and London Rogers, B, 1999, "Think Before You Build - A Primer for Pavilion Sponsors" (accessed ) The Imagineers (written by Kevin Rafferty with Bruce Gordon), 1996, Walt Disney Imagineering - A Behind the Dreams Look at Making the Magic Real New York: Hyperion to cite this journal article:

8 Gröppel-Wegener, A. (2004) Communicating thoughts. Working Papers in Art and Design 3 ISSN