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Landscape architecture. Allen, Laura, — II. Spiller, Neil. S66 —dc22 It has been the case for some time now that the work of making interventions in the world has to conceive of itself as precisely that: intervening in a world.
Our sense of place has gone global. So interventions have to happen not in the local, or at least not only in that, but in a world stretched out and strung around, a world patched together by a wide range of differentiated, variable, and erratic processes in which the human and the non-human are hard to distinguish.
For many, this extraordinary globalizing has been met with an excitable, not to say hyperbolic, response. Mike Davis hails ecological disaster, Jean Baudrillard sees a world swallowed by simulacra, Frederic Jameson frames globalization as the shadow play of the late capitalist economy, Paul Virilio plunges into its speed and militarization. We are dazzled by its information and image overload, which according to Guy Debord is nothing other than. Time and space are both compressed in distracting ways, according to David Harvey.
The dizzying rush of this world has no use for monuments, apparently, other than those celebrating the economic and political arrangements of this new world order. The durability of monuments from before this world came into being can only invoke irony and hauntings in these transforming times. Rather, the world is now spectacularized. But it seems that my own writing here has been seduced by the rhetoric it refers to, and I need to be more careful.
This utopia is sought in any number of places and in any number of ways. Sometimes it is imagined in cities, dreamt of as cosmopolitan places where differences mingle convivially. Sometimes it takes the form of national imagined communities, with boundaries holding fast against immigrants, refugees, viruses, ideas.
But most often, this safe place is imagined as rural. Williams, among others, has traced the emergence and durability of this peculiarly English dream of the countryside as a stable, traditional place where nothing much changes except the seasons. It is a dream that increasing numbers of Brits are attempting to realize abroad rather than at home, but this is only testimony to its enduring seductiveness: the countryside imagined as a garden, enclosed, nurtured and nurturing.
Of course, this dream of unchanging tranquility is as much a fantasy as its dystopic inverse, with its urbanized scenario of doom and revenge. Because, of course, everything is on the move, everything is changing, and much of it always has been.
Mobility and dynamism are the norm, and they always have been. The questions this prompts are: What is on the move? And with what effects? What sort of geographical imagination can help us engage in this world?
We are used to maps of the world, to globes, to photographs of the Earth from space. They all offer versions of the world as a plane. All that there is can be located on a two-dimensional grid: everything has a place and only one place; no two things can be in the same place. This vision of the world was slowly pieced together as it was explored and annexed by mostly colonizing Europeans between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries. It is a modern vision of the world, in which all is.
But it is also a vision of the world that arguably no longer holds, or at least only holds in quite local circumstances. That European hegemony over global mapping has been fundamentally challenged. The geographical imaginations we need now to understand something of how the world is globalized are much more nuanced and less straightforward.
There are no all-enveloping planes any more. Rather, we need more elaborate spatial vocabularies to describe the many registers and modalities through which globalizing processes are at work. Flows of people, commodities, carbon, and capital trace intricate global cartographies.
So too do birds, seeds, and viruses. Flows also congeal, though they run in particular patterns, are halted. Richard Mabey has argued this, in his account of becoming well again by experiencing and writing about a change of location and the seasons of the year in that new place. As he listens, looks, and thinks about his embeddness in the world, Mabey suggests that a sensitivity to the environment needs nurturing and is not antithetical to analysis and representation.
Indeed, he suggests that mediated responses to the non-human world are an essential part. Mediation gives us pause as well as pleasure, perhaps, or discomfort. Those mediations might take the form of a diary, a house, an artist, or a memory—or kites, ducting systems, platform emplacements, or a camera obscura. Then there are those other geographies. These can also be the geographies of conventional discussions of globalization: alliances between those distant in physical terms but brought together by political struggle, for example, or the emotional closeness of families scattered by migration, or the cultural negotiations of diasporic identities.
But these geographies can also. Strange, passing, and not always predictable, these moments can also come at us from outside. They might act as reminders of that entanglement. Interventions into that world then, if they wish to settle however temporarily, would do well to evoke them too.
They suggest that interventions into that world thus globalized should engage with those geographies if they are to be effective. Landscapes are on the move all around us, and so too are their unexpected excesses. Interventions that play with both of these are likely to be those that resonate most in the contemporary world.
The region has an intimacy with its climate where the distant horizon and voluminous sky have inspired artists and holidaymakers alike. The landscape is observed as a panorama, a circular gaze that encompasses the complete horizon in one go. They reach out to the sea and up to the clouds. The landmarks,. Self examination booklet of day shapes, signals, and pyrotechnics that could be encountered at sea under the Collision Regulations, Notices to Mariners and the Lateral System of Buoyage used in the United Kingdom.
Long shore drift and strong prevailing winds have shaped a region of expansive beaches, dunes, and crumbling cliffs—a landscape of currents and contours, sandbanks and quick sands, erosion and deposition. The landmark inhabits a marginal territory with one foot on land and the other in the water. A top limb is designed to glint like white horses on the waves, while a lower limb acts as a rudder in the current. The dunes are occupied by a net of tubs that become partially buried in the sand and reveal the endlessly shifting form of the dune landscape.
Each tub marks out the transitory seasonal territory of the holidaymaker. The tubs are just big enough to accommodate paraphernalia for a day trip to the British seaside: a deck chair, cricket bat, picnic rug, and hut for shelter. The landmark models top can be individually mounted in a glazed box, positioned with one another relative to a horizon line. Deployable tents offer shelter from the sun. The tents are printed with thermochromic inks, which register the degree of exposure to UV rays.
A Market in the Marshes The estuaries of Essex form a liquid edge to the county. A shallow plate is inserted into the intertidal zone, lying low on the horizon. Diagrammatic section: At twilight clouds of moths form a shimmering halo to the market platform. Three territories are formed: oyster lanes fed by nutrient-rich runoff from the salt marsh and high tide, grazing land, and a market.
A: The continuous landscape is achieved with ha-ha ditches, allowing pasture land to blend seamlessly with the countryside beyond. B: Saltmarsh grazing C:. Raised marketplace platform. E: Oyster runnels F:. They are anchored to a pivoting base that is.
In Steven Holl and William Stout created a grittier alternative to mainstream architectural publishing called Pamphlet Architecture. See More. We are dazzled by its information and image overload, which according to Guy Debord is nothing other than our own alienation. It is a modern vision of the world, in which all is visible, knowable, categorizable—as well as one that erased all signs of its own violent and mobile production. Indeed, he suggests that mediated responses to the non-human world are an essential part of being human.
The landmarks, Self examination booklet of day shapes, signals, and pyrotechnics that could be encountered at sea under the Collision Regulations, Notices to Mariners and the Lateral System of Buoyage used in the United Kingdom in addition to controlling or exploiting the view from within, are experienced on or in the landscape from remote positions. B: Saltmarsh grazing C: Raised marketplace platform.
Princeton Architectural Press. Published on Jun 30, Go explore.
Augmented Landscapes : Smout Allen