The book has been the preferred mode of discourse, outside of building itself, architects have chosen to express their intellectual project. Lasting impression relies partially upon durability of message, and symbolically at least, the book remains the objet par excellence among media. In addition to this usefulness, the book finds itself in a privileged position as an instrument of discourse. Despite claims that it is an antiquated tool among an expanding world of media alternatives, it is exactly the book’s resistance, weight, displacement, its old-fashionedness, which seems to safeguard its value as an instrument of thought. Simultaneously, there is a natural affinity between the objects of the book and architecture; they can be seen as analogs. Each is a medium that organizes material using spatiality and temporality; a progression through a group of pages proceeds just as a sequence of spaces are navigated.
[T]he architect’s book can be more than a demonstration of competency, it can be an instrument for thinking about the production of space in its many definitions.
I move through.think through invisibility for a multitude of reasons. its versatile, its familiar, its personal, and its productive. It’s often been our studio, the place where a lot of our art has come from. And it’s also been our meeting ground, as a lot of alliances have been made from invisible territories. I want to imagine these places, the unseen productive holes that we frequent, as democratic spaces. The public, our public. as a democratic community with the fullest glory of this often perverted word as a basis of understanding our private and public performances of agency, identity, and subjectivity.
An excerpt from Democracy, Invisibility, and the Dramatic Arts by Emily Roysdon
Would very much like to do design projects like these.
A part of Robert Hengeveld’s kinetic sculpture/installation, “Howl” at Nuit Blanche 2013. #lategram (at Bay & Richmond)