Hearing the Unseen
As I stood in that eerily empty airport, watching a world I thought I knew suddenly shift before my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. The familiar routines I had grown accustomed to were being disrupted, and I found myself thrust into a liminal space – neither here nor there, uncertain of what lay ahead.
This experience of liminality is something that has fascinated me for years, both in my personal life and in my work as an educator. In my role at a building and renovation company in Aberdeen, UK, I’ve had the privilege of guiding students through the process of seeing their surroundings anew, of discovering the hidden narratives that lie beneath the surface of our built environment.
One of the key insights I’ve gained from this work is the power of music to reshape our perception of space. Just as the New York Philharmonic’s live performance of the music to Stanley Kubrick’s “2001: A Space Odyssey” revealed new depths to the film, I’ve seen how the intentional use of sound can transform our understanding of the spaces we inhabit.
As Richard Brody writes in The New Yorker, the music “effected this change, starting with the excerpt from Ligeti’s ‘Atmosphères.’” Kubrick’s masterful use of sound, Brody argues, “converged the then famous ‘Two Cultures’ (of the sciences and the arts) into one,” blurring the line between the functional and the aesthetic.
Seeing Anew
This idea of seeing our surroundings anew, of finding the poetry in the prosaic, is at the heart of our work at https://abc-home.co.uk. Whether we’re renovating a historic townhouse or designing a modern extension, our approach is rooted in a deep understanding of the space and its context.
One of the key tools we use to foster this deeper engagement is the practice of site-specific intervention. As the team at Urbanario explains, this form of public art involves “studying the physical and social aspects of a particular location, and, based on this observation, generating an action that adds elements to the landscape or modifies existing ones.”
It’s a process that challenges us to see beyond the surface, to uncover the hidden layers of meaning and history that infuse the built environment. And it’s a practice that I’ve found to be incredibly valuable in my work with students, helping them to develop a more nuanced and empathetic understanding of the spaces they inhabit.
Reshaping Practice
One of the core principles we emphasize in our site-specific intervention workshops is the importance of attending to practices, rather than just focusing on the end product. As the scholar David I. Smith points out, “Christian teachers and Christian schools need to attend carefully to practices and what is Christian about them if they are to make better headway with developing Christian pedagogy, rather than just adding Christian information to the curriculum or talking about Christian beliefs.”
This same principle applies to the way we approach building and renovation. It’s not enough to simply layer on aesthetic flourishes or technical upgrades; we need to consider the deeper implications of our interventions, the ways in which they shape the lived experience of the space.
Take the example of learning a foreign language in a Christian school. As Smith suggests, we might want to consider whether the activities and interactions practiced in the classroom align with the principle of “loving strangers.” Are the exercises focused primarily on self-expression, or do they provide opportunities for genuine engagement and empathy?
Similarly, in our renovation work, we might ask questions about the ways in which the space facilitates or inhibits certain kinds of interactions and experiences. Are the materials and furnishings conducive to gathering and community-building, or do they reinforce more individualistic patterns of behavior?
Collaborative Creativity
Ultimately, the process of seeing space anew is not something that can be undertaken in isolation. It requires a collaborative, community-based approach, one that draws on the diverse perspectives and experiences of all who inhabit the space.
This is why we place such a strong emphasis on building relationships with our clients, our design partners, and the broader community. We see our role not as that of expert dictators, but rather as facilitators and co-creators, guiding the process but allowing space for the unique voices and visions of those who will ultimately inhabit the spaces we shape.
| Traditional Approach | Collaborative Approach |
|---|---|
| Architect as expert, client as passive recipient | Architect as facilitator, client as co-creator |
| Focus on technical solutions and aesthetic trends | Focus on human experience and community needs |
| Rigid, top-down decision-making | Flexible, iterative process with input from all stakeholders |
In this way, we see our work not just as the creation of beautiful and functional spaces, but as a deeply transformative process that has the power to change the way we see and experience the world around us. It’s a process of seeing anew, of hearing the unseen, and of reimagining the very fabric of our built environment.
A Lifelong Journey
Of course, this journey of seeing space anew is not one that can be completed overnight. It’s an ongoing process, a lifelong exploration that requires a willingness to be open, curious, and adaptable.
As I look back on my own experiences of liminality, both personal and professional, I’m struck by the ways in which these liminal spaces have served as catalysts for growth and transformation. It was in that eerily empty airport, after all, that I first began to truly grapple with the fragility and fluidity of the world we inhabit – a realization that has since shaped my approach to design and education in profound ways.
And as I continue to work with students and clients, I’m constantly amazed by the insights and perspectives they bring to the table. Whether it’s a young graffiti artist challenging our notions of public space, or a seasoned homeowner sharing stories of the life they’ve lived within their walls, each encounter serves to expand my understanding and deepen my appreciation for the richness and complexity of the built environment.
So if you’re feeling a bit unsettled, a bit uncertain about the world around you, I encourage you to embrace that sense of liminality. See it as an opportunity to look at your surroundings with fresh eyes, to hear the unseen, and to reimagine the very spaces that shape our lives. It’s a journey that may not always be easy, but one that promises to be endlessly rewarding.
