“Periods I love the most: the age of the caveman and the Enlightenment. But I do not forget that caves led to History, and salons to the Guillotine.” – Cioran
Our place in the universe can be reduced to a single point, if even that. And then it starts to grow, to expand, to conquer the entire space. The Earth is said to be five billion years old, and life three or four. The oldest discovered buildings are 11,000 years old (the Walls of Jericho).
These numbers contain all the comfort we need. They should be remembered in moments when we take ourselves too seriously.
Do the pyramids reflect our need for a magnificent end? Did that end actually signify the entrance into another time? The pyramids stand as a representation of human grandeur and refusal to accept any interruption in time.
We leave behind what we know will be interpreted, observed, and eventually experienced as part of the present time by future generations, regardless of the temporal divide. We act as if history flows linearly, as if successive civilizations are nothing more than stages through which some grand idea, whose name changes according to our beliefs and ideologies, passes.
The possibility of existing across different epochs is only possible through written text, music, or the objects we build.
In such objects, where culture and science, emotions and theatrical experience intersect, lies the essence of architecture.
The architect faces constraints imposed by materials, obstacles set by clients, and, ultimately, the ruthless laws of the market for both sides.
In such circumstances, one must understand the domains and possibilities of the given space, and above all, its function. However, function is subject to change and should be considered, for example, that former prisons today become meeting and leisure places. Religious buildings become nightclubs – places that once served to confess sins are now places where those very sins are practiced (the author distances herself from the definition of sin). Open squares, during the pandemic, become forbidden places. Thus, only through the lens of time can we observe a given object.
The architect must consider general concepts because they are often represented as the purest and taken as standards and values.
In the works of Bernard Tschumi and Zaha Hadid, spaces are conceptualized that negate functionality and decompose form to fulfill it with meaning.
What time cannot affect is the shape that an object occupies. In this regard, monuments and artistic installations are particularly interesting. For instance, although it was created in the recent past, the Eiffel Tower has become an identity symbol. It is a mark given by form, the power of shape in space, a materialization of someone's reflection (see the spatial tapestries by Jagoda Bujić).
The monument by Svetlana Kane Radević in Barutana is an example of how a symbol of victory over death can come alive in stone.
The phenomenon of objects that no one lives in, but in which investments continue and new lions are perpetually added to the gates – these too represent a kind of monument, but to itself.
The way we perceive time changes, and surely so does our perception of space.
Architecture can be understood as a sphere where there is “violence between space and activity within it, or as pleasure” (Bernard Tschumi). Space provides passive resistance, but it is up to us to advocate for it or at least attempt to create harmony and give meaning to the object being designed, hoping that it will align with the forthcoming times. Time is an axonometry with lines that should intertwine with the lines of our ideas on paper and in reality.
Author of the text and drawings:
Maida Turković