Sketching Purity
An architect assumes the responsibility of drawing his or her ideas. Ideas are first put to paper in sketch form, and evolve into construction documents, that are then hopefully used to build a building. Sketches begin with abstract ideas about solutions to a given architectural problem. The most famous example of sketches in contemporary architecture are the drawings of Frank Gehry (left below). The expressive nature of his sketches offers insight into his creative process, most notably his interest in fluid and spatially dynamic forms. Gehry's sketches are intimately tied to the workings of his mind and are the most immediate form of architectural expression, almost like doodling, but in order to work out a specific problem. ref Many architects regard sketches as important documents in which "pure" ideas are expressed and worked out without the mediation of reality. ref Part of Frank Gehry's success is related to his ability to turn the fluid and dynamic sketches into realized, concrete (or metal) buildings. Every drawing produced after his initial sketch exists in relation to the conceptual clarity of the sketch. The sketch assumes such an important role in architectural production that it is fetishized as an art object. Gehry is a popular example of a condition in architectural design, expressed through conceptual sketches being completed in a wide variety of mediums, from watercolors to crumpled paper (a sort of three-dimensional sketch). Through the elevation of sketches into an art (to the detriment of built reality), architectural discourse is disproportionately focused on abstract ideas embodied in those sketches.
Yet even the sketches of Frank Gehry, a master of spatial dynamism, do not convey a spatial user-experience. His sketches are abstract views of masses, relating to no specific person or personal point of view. Similarly, the Renzo Piano elevational sketch of the Pompidou Center from the book Sketch Plan Build: World Class Architects Show How It's Done ref shows us the proportions of the facade, not how we experience it. As published in the book, a highly anamorphic architectural photograph side by side with the sketch reaffirms the realization of his vision. (below)
What was Renzo's photographer trying to show? The photograph on the right shows the elevation of the building that mimics the elevation drawing and presents us with a confusing conflation of overlaid architectural elements. We do not gain an understanding of what this building would look like to us if we were the blurry people in the photograph. This picture does not show us the way any person would see this building, and is only useful in the communication of Piano's original intent, as expressed in this sketch. The same is true of the example below. The photographer's vantage point reinforces the intent of the designer to express the shape of the main axis of the building. This idea is clearly seen in the diagrams the designer produced, and in the finished photographs they commissioned. Once more, anamorphic projection is being used, and in this photograph infringes on the sense of scale of the structure. I become uneasy at the prospect of interacting with this building, because, while I rationally understand the spatial conditions for this structure, visually I am unsure about how my body would relate to it spatially.