The House of the Solar. Lying between the realm governed by the ideal and the constellations of the ideal realm. A line drawn by ontological dividers. The skyline; meeting place of the heavens and social aspiration; of matter and light. From wall to urban canyon, from the comfort of earth to glass finitude (the reflective mission of architecture made transparent) structures rise to the place of the infinite. Eschatologies in stone; signs that span temporality and eternity.
The solar; a relationship of stone and sky, the path of the eyes rising up to the cross, the crescent and the stars.
The evolution of sacred inner-space in the cultures of monotheism is well known. Christianity, through the adoption of the basilica form, transforms prior tradition by moving away from a temple with inner sanctum (where the congregation must wait outside) to a hall with the congregation inside (a tradition maintained in Islam in the structure of the mosque). Inclusive form replaces exclusive division, hierarchy is displaced into the interior, the faithful are at least gathered under one roof.
Less well known is the evolution of architecture's external sites of intense signification (and its consequent impact on our collective expectations for the built environment). The sacred communication of architecture has also undergone a sequential evolution, the results of which are embedded in our nervous systems to this day. In the West we have become accustomed to the top part of a given building acting as the carrier of the broader forms of symbolic significance (or the top part of any lower part, or of any sub-section, as in the entry-portal or window). Our culture claims its architecture by marking its upper portion; the solar. Religion (belief priorities in alliance with the State) provides the key signs. Skylines proclaim their sacred loyalties. The invisible ties of the social are incarnated in stone in its assault on the heavens.
Hypsosis. The eye-leading property of light becomes an architectural mimesis; an exponential curve into flight; the illusion of stones that float.
Yet the western solar does not stand alone. It is a tale of two traditions (which will, moreover, like lips, like vines, touch and intertwine). In contrast to the pointed roofs of northern or wet climate cultures, we find in the flat roof of the South the source of forms suited to countries which are hot and dry: the Arab and African form (heir to the Neolithic Near East - point of origin) and the sacred architecture of Pre-Columbian Meso-America. The cultures of dry climates find their architectural and symbolic continuity in a plain solar strip, underscored and so differentiated from its lower portion (in early forms) by horizontal post holes, drainage outlets and wooden supports. This upper segment acts as a frame for windows or other apertures to be found in the middle of the building. Lower down an entrance may find itself enframed by an enfolding middle. Or it may be some form of representation or scripts that are presented in this way. The solar strip finds its symbolic function to be that of a framing device.
The line petrified into matter; the gift of architectural form.
Opposed to the flat form is the pointed form. The Western, Greek, or Roman (but also Gothic) form is based upon a pitched roof (at its simplest represented by a tent), often supplemented by overhanging eves, atop of walls and, in the building's front face, an opening, an entrance, expandable into a colonnade (the pediment and portico form). A basic pattern is generalised into a rule for all subsequent architectural styles; a point of origin theorised by the French architect Laugier - an origin he regarded as the source of all Classicism in architecture (and so of the Neo-classicism he championed).
In this way, in the cultures of the North and the West, the triangle becomes the home of sacred decoration. Above a holy entrance, a sacred sign (a sign over a door, the basic 'front', the basic formula of western sacred architecture). Secular forms also will imitate this formula - even if two hundred floors intervene between entrance and sign. By contrast, in the cultures of the South and the East, the dry flat-top form 'merely' frames the middle section, their place of the sign, where statues and other forms of depiction dominate. Minarets and obelisks do, of course, point; however in contrast to the Gothic style, where everything points, no matter what its function, it is only doors and minarets that point, mosques as such do not. (The dome points whilst enclosing a large space. Less like a pediment, more like a pyramid, its overall rising deixis is often augmented with a sign placed at its apogee.)
Already, however, there is the danger of seeing in the binary relationship between the two kinds of solar, the tension between Christian and Islamic cultural traditions (a new 'East v West', to succeed the decayed cold war binary of Capitalism and Communism).
Yet if we raise our eyes to peer over the horizon
imposed by our Indo-European backyard, then we will see that a culture from the
opposite end of the earth arrives to disturb the birth of this new East/West
opposition. China and the Far East, China most especially, with a long
tradition of its own, also use the pointed roof, however the 'pediment' space,
in the West acting as ‘front’, as entrance, porch, the ground of appearance and
reception is now the ‘sides’ of a long-faced building, is removed to the wings
- so pushing sign and decoration up to the solar. Statuettes of the gods and
immortals are found abiding in the roof-tops and decorated beams of the Chinese
solar (and a double roof -in use since before the Han Dynasty- doubles the
beams on display and ‘underlines’ the roof as solar feature). The more the
holier - and the more important the building (count them on the roofs of the
Proximity to the sky encompasses a world; with such a plenitude of significance that if the upper part does not function as an index, a symbol or a feature, then it will function as a frame. The top edge, whatever form it takes (not least in its absence) always conveys significant meaning.
Desert architecture is different. Mud bricks will not
survive uncovered in the rain without a branch roof, but in the baking sun they
are ideal building materials. Together with
Desert Architecture. From the antiquity of the Persian
Empire, with its fabled centre,
Two Variations. (i) Pre-Columbian Meso-American pyramids both point and also possess flat-topped roofs for ritual practices. The step-form pyramid offers a compromise of solar styles such that flat-topped buildings too can point. In the Assyrian Ziggurat (and the Mayan temple) the top edge (whether flat or jagged) clearly functions as a frame; as an amplification of its own larger form, giving it outline even as it meets the vertical lines rising up through the encircled middle. This doubling of the shape adds to the rising effect, giving a symbolic upward point and rise to the sacred level. These raised platforms, in the Pre-Columbian pyramid, function as the meeting places of the gods and men, and so as the site of the sanctification of the elite, their justification in terms of the sacred. In cases like this it is the entire building that points and not just the top edge. We find a similar pattern in the Egyptian monumental pyramid (functioning as a shelter for a tomb, as well as an external pointer and reminder).
(ii) The second variation is found in South Indian
temples, especially those of the Dravidian style, as exemplified by the temple
Time-lines: two 'ideal types'; two sacred lineages (two solar genealogies).
(I) The 'flat' genealogy (the House of the Horizon).
The structures of Mesopotamia and
(II) The 'pointed' genealogy (the House of the
The flat forms of the Near East find a place in the architecture of the West in the compromise represented by the evolution of the piano nobile, simultaneously a floor and a feature (ornamented balconies, and bearer of the largest windows) framed by the building's top and bottom sections. On the smallest scale the piano nobile is found between the vestigial solar top of the palazzo form (or cornice) and the rougher forms of the entry floor. As in the architecture of the flat form, it is the middle that is framed (a sign indicating an elevated position in the social hierarchy). The piano nobile appears to be an early medieval variation on the Roman high rise concrete dwellings (the Insulae), which were known to possess such a floor. With the addition of many levels of intervening floors, the piano nobile effect, either moved upwards or disappeared into the curtain wall, a development of key importance to urban secular architecture and so to late-nineteenth and early-twentieth century architectural developments (and not the result of an appropriation by an incipient Modernism of styles from the East and the South, at that time under colonial rule). However the disappearance of the piano nobile left the solar effect of the building's top free to dominate the building in symbolic terms. Since the decorated cornices of the Renaissance, the solar had returned to the flat top (the Flat Iron Building, New York) as an eye-catching, eye-rising feature - variations on the pointed top where to be restored in the 1920s and further developed from the 1970s onwards.
It is often useful to distinguish between the solar top as top, and the top strip as a frame for the middle. In the first case the top captures the eye and leads it to itself or further on upwards (in the last century the middle is usually plain and repetitive, as in the modernist skyscraper). In the second case the middle is a clearly framed feature. Information (or its absence, signifying brute massiveness) placed in the middle is the key source of significance, as in the case of the Egyptian Pylon and the Mayan Pyramid; although it may also be placed on the top as in the case of the Roman Triumphal Arch (again, a sign above an entrance) and its present day avatar, the advertising hoarding. In addition, the flat-top in modernism becomes a site of symbolic decoration, precisely in accordance with the pointed tradition to which it is heir, as such it functions by topping, not framing, the middle section. In this way, it 'finishes', that is completes, the building as a whole, its skyward gesture marking out a place for itself in the collective skyline of the city.
Axis of light: vertical compass; the needle is pointed at both ends. The pull of gravity and the fall of light are transformed into the rise of architecture and the lifting of the eyes. What comes down must go up. The fall of light into gravity's mirror.
The western tradition of secular urban building appears to run from Roman secular housing apartments (the high rise and flat-topped Insulae) and similar, if roofed, early medieval forms through to the Palazzo tradition (Renaissance to Art Nouveau). A minimally decorated, functional top edge, with the piano nobile as key decorated zone, evolves into the solar feature from Art Deco to Post-modernism. The proximity to the sky always lends some significance to a building's top edge. In this way in the West the framing (top) floor always becomes a solar, even if only a strip. However if the solar is totally absent, if the gift of the sky is ignored, then the result is a sense of unfinishedness, the sending out of a negative signal. Sometimes (at best) the sense of unfinishedness, of pure functionality, may exude a (dated) science-fiction ambience; but usually the effect is cheap and throwaway. No solar sacrifice has been performed at the top of the building to signal its value (and so that of its inhabitants). If such an economic sacrifice confers identity, then solarless architecture may properly be said to have no soul.
The present manifestation of the flat-topped tradition
may be found all over the Middle East and
The Western equivalent to this feature and its effect
is the Grande Arche de la Défense in
in stone, the two towers in
What of modern
Do the creations of Frank Gehry offer a combination of
styles, East and West, modern and vernacular? Or do they represent a new
departure, one bringing to the fore the entropy theme present in architecture
from the 1960's onward (as late-modernism, deconstructivism, or postmodernism).
A theme, moreover, to be found hovering residually in the background of western
culture as 'the ruin'. Gehry's creations seem to combine the entropic thesis
(the illusion of motion, of defying gravity, of being on the verge of collapse)
with massive solar impact. No longer is the sun to be pointed to, it is to be
replaced. In a new answer to a very old tradition Gehry combines the general
pointing of his structures with the capture of light through reflection. The
entropy theme adds a temporal reference suited to the metaphysics of the
twenty-first century as they are influenced by the cumulative revolutions in
physics of the twentieth century and move into the next millennium. The style
is a temple to impermanence, for which the best medicine is homage.
Architecture, visible antidote to entropy, disguises itself as its sworn enemy
(like a ritual inoculation). A Gehry is the true temple to twentieth century
physics, a well as the most radical product of twentieth century technologies
in computer-led alliance. Perhaps the two options presented here are not
mutually exclusive, Gehry's massive sheds appear more like a deconstructed
Pylon (its signs condensed into shining material) than any other architectural
form. In this style the entire building
is suffused with a generalised solar impact (like Liebeskind's
Copyright 2002 Peter Nesteruk