The Building Movements project lay the foundations for our notion of an expanded conversation as our installations engaged with the Design Hub and as the building’s agency interjected itself into our creative processes. In continuing our collaboration through a piece of co-authored writing, Writing Writing Movements Tentatively (2014-15), our aim was to extend into a writing practice the conversational approach that had emerged from the built projects. Speaking and listening to the other actants formed a fundamental aspect in the collaborative creation of the installations. These modes of interaction extended into the writing process, and we used chance techniques to allow the agency of the writing process to contribute to the conversation. By using a cut-up writing technique, our sense of individual authorship was undone and instead allowed for a third voice to emerge between our writings, disrupting an already complex process of co-authored writing.
This writing was thought of as another creative project and used our expanded notion of conversation as a conceptual lens and a key approach to co-authorship. Many of the processes involved in this writing also operate as a form of dialogue, from collectively discussing a series of written responses to the establishment of various collaborative writing techniques, resulting in experimental texts. These collaborative pieces generated new ways of understanding and introduced new directions for the discussion to follow.
These experimental texts tested ways of bringing a structural tentativeness – a concept we came to through our installation projects – into our individual texts by removing their authorial certainty through a cut-up process, where we responded to these resulting cut-up texts as the work of a third co-author. After writing on the same topic independently, we took our texts and placed them side by side in two narrow columns. They were then cut together by re-reading horizontally across both columns. Taking away the beginning, middle or end of one of our sentences and inserting the other’s continued our own conversational practice, from our conversation with the building to our conversation with each other and finally to a conversation between our texts, as each interjects into the other. Through this process we began to read and write more tentatively, not quite sure about where the text would lead. Our authorial voices were disrupted and distorted by the cut-up process and resulted in new phrases, sentences and paragraphs emerging from this third voice. Neither of us had written these phrases, and yet they were revelatory of our intentions and embedded meanings. This offered us new starting points to continue our expanded thinking on conversation, both in relation to our own engagements with the Design Hub and critical perspectives on our practices.
Alongside this text is the resulting piece of writing, a series of co-authored cut-up texts with which we then re-engaged via a further iteration of writing. From earlier cut-up texts, we extracted newly generated phrases that had particular resonance or potency for understanding the embedded meanings of the projects. These are in bold, with a series of short reflections and expositions we wrote – returning to our individual authorial voices – which begin to account for the questions raised through this experimental writing process. This cut-up process introduced ideas such as destabilising the building and creating seams, propositions that were taken up in two subsequent architectural interventions, AJ8 and Extrusion.
Initial cut-up experiments
These are two early iterations from our work with cut-up texts. The first documents our initial individual engagement with the building, combined into a single text via the cut-up process and rewritten underneath. The second iteration uses the same cut-up process to explore, unpack and complicate the ideas that informed the Building Movements installations.
The RMIT Design Hub is a ten-story we could hear the rainwater running concrete building, surrounded by a steel through the center of the building, down frame, and then clad in a series of pipes hidden from view somewhere thousands of translucent glass circles. Within the walls. Attentive to this Its spaces are repetitive, and this movement of water, we followed this repetition can be confusing and noise, seeking out the source where the disorientating for building users. Only building would bring in rainwater and through inhabitation and activity do allow this material to flow through it. Up spaces begin to take on identifiable on the roof, we searched for this point of qualities. Intake. Walking down the stairs, from Our initial intention was to create a the top of the building to the basement, series of projects that caused a we attempted to follow the path of the disruptive shift in the experience of the rainwater through the building, to finds its building. Seizing on the inherently exit point. Passive experience of the lift interior, we We also located the air intake on the aimed to create environments that roof of the building, on top of the upon or before exiting the lift stairwell. The ventilation system’s immediately challenged this passivity. Central unit was something we could not Rather than the building as familiar, find, but we did find where the air was repetitive, predictable series of spaces, drawn out from the interior space: next we introduced uncertainty and to the lifts there was a large vent hidden tentativeness to the edges of the behind the metal mesh. We tested this architectural experience. As a point of intervention, using the Reflecting back, the projects were as negative air pressure to hold a plastic much about destabilizing the building sheet against the metal mesh wall. The itself as they were about destabilizing a Hub, made of glass, steel and concrete, subjective experience of the building. Was still subject to the movement of air But how could such relatively minor currents. Differences in air pressure interventions cause such a shift? How would hold the large glass doors of the could they take hold of, and push back workshop spaces open, preventing on to, the larger construction? Them from closing and locking automatically, and resulting in a Subversive tactics were at work. Did we continual clicking noise of the electronic somehow undermine the construction locks attempting and failing to lock. Of the building? This wasn’t a physical These functional processes of the pushing off-balance of the building, mostly invisible, were points of concrete-steel-glass framework, rather, contact where we could create a the questioning and drawing out of the seam. This seam would afford the collective construction of the idea of the possibility for our intervention, which building as a stable monolithic entity. Would amplify this function, call attention to it, or re-direct it into a new form. These seams offered us the leverage needed to throw the building off-balance.
The projects we developed critically process and permeate this text together taking shape alongside the changing shape with a tentativeness equal to our Design Hub.
Collaborating with co-authors can we select a structure? The building means listening to what it has to say, and agent that affords the possibility for new taking this into the projects; projects which are directed meaning?
Conversation as an exchange of ideas. Coauthorship, coselecting and coemerging also the development of mutual understanding and trust in with what has and does surround me.
The very intimate too were sheathed in a heavy metal mesh; the largest collectives.
Attentive to this, its spaces are repetitive, and this movement of water, we followed this repetition can be confusing and noise, seeking out the source where it becomes disorientating for building users. Walking down the stairs from our initial intention was to create the top of the building to the basement, a series of projects that caused we attempted to follow the path of the disruptive shift in the experience of the rainwater through the building, to find its building.
This form reveals the delicate a location for as people stepped out experience of the inter-relationships the intervention was a seam to into it.
A sheath of 16000 sand-blasted glass circles.
Inhaling airborne polymer chains into my lungs offering a translucent connection between sets up a series of physiological responses interior and exterior, thus being both at once. This influences the qualities of blood circulating, connected and disconnected, or offering a kind of body, and these qualities in turn affect a mediated connection between and inside my neural system.What I breathe in forms me, and what I experience of the building is effected.
Breathing is a process inextricably meshed. It is perhaps one way of looking at our practice with liveliness, a process that sustains life, and as a whole has served as a method of consequence and might typically be considered a good thing. But when this intervention, in the process of positive process, is disrupted, it reveals the designing and building. Delicate inter-relationships that exist between the exterior of the building are covered in our lived experience and are our surroundings. To step into a building was effected.
I feel not quite right, light-outside.
Inside, on most levels, the building is headed off-balance.
The building? This wasn’t physical. These functional processes of the pushing off-balance of the concrete-building, mostly invisible, were points of steel-glass framework.
The projects were as negative air pressure to hold a plastic about destabilising the building sheet against the metal mesh wall. Itself as they were about destabilising a subject to the movement of air currents. subjective experience of the building.
But we did find where the air was a predictable series of spaces, we were drawn out from the interior space: next introduced uncertainty and to the lifts there was a large vent of hidden tentativeness to the edges behind the metal mesh.
I am chemically altered, split in two, separated into a long room and by the surrounding environment, and these ‘warehouse spaces’. As many levels of lived experience are usually much more subtle, seek out the limits of these thresholds.
Each other’s approaches and thought processes. So are you, and so is what surrounds The Design Hub was very present in these conversations. You as you read this text: so too is this.
The RMIT Design Hub is a ten-storey concrete building, surrounded by a steel frame, and then clad in a series of thousands of translucent glass circles. Its spaces are repetitive, and this repetition can be confusing and disorientating for building users. Only through inhabitation and activity do spaces begin to take on identifiable qualities.
Our initial intention was to create a series of projects that caused a disruptive shift in the experience of the building. Seizing on the inherently passive experience of the lift interior, we aimed to create environments that upon or before exiting the lift immediately challenged this passivity. Rather than the building as a familiar, repetitive, predictable series of spaces, we introduced uncertainty and tentativeness to the edges of the architectural experience.
Reflecting back, the projects were as much about destabilising the building itself as they were about destabilising a subjective experience of the building. But how could such relatively minor interventions cause such a shift? How could they take hold of, and push back on to, the larger construction?
Subversive tactics were at work. Did we somehow undermine the construction of the building? This wasn’t a physical pushing off-balance of the concretesteel- glass framework, rather, the questioning and drawing out of the collective construction of the idea of the building as a stable monolithic entity.
Walking through the Design Hub we could hear the rainwater running through the centre of the building, down pipes hidden from view somewhere within the walls. Attentive to this movement of water, we followed this noise, seeking out the source where the building would bring in rainwater and allow this material to flow through it. Up on the roof, we searched for this point of intake. Walking down the stairs, from the top of the building to the basement, we attempted to follow the path of the rainwater through the building, to find its exit point.
We also located the air intake on the roof of the building, on top of the stairwell. The ventilation system’s central unit was something we could not find, but we did find where the air was drawn out from the interior space: next to the lifts there was a large vent hidden behind the metal mesh. We tested this as a point of intervention, using the negative air pressure to hold a plastic sheet against the metal mesh wall. The Hub, made of glass, steel and concrete, was still subject to the movement of air currents. Differences in air pressure would hold the large glass doors of the workshop spaces open, preventing them from closing and locking automatically, and resulting in a continual clicking noise of the electronic locks attempting and failing to lock.
These functional processes of the building, mostly invisible, were points of contact where we could create a seam. This seam would afford the possibility for our intervention, which would amplify this function, call attention to it, or re-direct it into a new form. These seams offered us the leverage needed to throw the building offbalance.
To breathe is to affect and to be affected. It is a reciprocal process in which air flows between and across bodily capacities, thoughts, and matter, where these inter-relationships generate contingent, amorphous formations. But air also has the potential to create an affective pushing-back. The qualities of air are conditioned by the building and these qualities have a physiological conditioning on bodies.
How can a tentativeness add up to, or be equivalent to, a building? Phrases such as the one being examined here in more detail raise unexpected questions about our working together and provide a tool for critical reflection — on the projects, this writing, and the collaborative processes of co-formation. The experimentally constructed text sets up a turbulent dynamic: forces collide together moving everything to unexpected, unanticipated states.
Which came as a bit of a surprise really. In the lead-in to the projects we spoke a lot about destabilising experiences, about extending tentativeness, and how the projects we developed might effect this for an audience. But we never considered that these projects might begin to destabilise the building.
Destabilising the building and destabilising the subject are actions that occurred simultaneously through this tentative procedure. A destabilising of the building was brought about by removing its certainty; by denying simple egress from the lift we made building users more cautious of their movements and less certain of what this place was. A destabilising of ourselves as subjects occurred through our conversations; Chris and I had our collective and individual conversations with the building. These conversations revealed to us elements present in this architectural object that created certain affective experiences. I take these to be expressions of this architecture, but as an architectural subject rather than object, as an equal in the sense that it has its own agency and ability for self-expression. This conversation that we had with the Design Hub destabilized our subjectivity as the objects making up our surroundings were revealed as uncertain.
If the building isn’t physical, what is it? Have the projects and writings we have constructed somehow served to push the building (or at least our thinking of the building) into some other realm — the repeated dot motif as a marker of a desire for dissolution?
Working collaboratively always raises questions of authorship and identity. This has been amplified in the writing processes we have used, which has had its own autonomy and raised a further series of questions: What happens when a building is thrown off balance? What techniques or movements can cause this destabilisation?
These points of contact could be made into seams, cutting into the experience or flow of experience of this architectural environment. From these seams we could create extensions, new built structures that continued or contrasted against this flow of experience. This seam was made through our interaction with the building, through our looking at, feeling out, moving through the Design Hub. Making contact with the site creates a seam. There is no physical seam, there is no cutting into the building, all installations are simply touching the building, staying in place by sitting on or hanging from its surfaces. Rather, we are cutting into the experience of architectural environment, creating a seam into that flow of experience.
Breathing is a process inextricably meshed with liveliness, a process that sustains life, and as a consequence might typically be considered a good thing. But when this usually positive process is disrupted it reveals the delicate inter-relationships that exist between our lived experience and our surroundings. Inhaling airborne polymer chains into my lungs sets up a series of physiological responses that influences the qualities of blood circulating in my body, and these qualities in turn affect my neural system. I feel not quite right, light-headed, off-balance. I am chemically altered by surrounding environment, and this is
always the case. This is constantly occurring in lived experience, though usually much more subtly. What I breathe in forms me. And what I exhale is taken up by others and contributes to their formation. This ongoing process of reciprocal exchange connects across scales without distinction from the very intimate to the largest collectives.
Breathing is a process inextricably meshed is perhaps one way of looking at the practice with liveliness, a process that sustains life, and as a whole, and has served as a method of as a consequence might typically be research, in our analysis of the site of considered a good thing. but when this usually intervention as well as in the process of positive process is disrupted it reveals the designing and building. delicate inter-relationships that exist between the exterior of the building is covered in a our lived experience and our surroundings. sheath of 16000 sand-blasted glass circles, inhaling airborne polymer chains into my lungs offering a translucent connection between sets up a series of physiological responses interior and exterior, thus being at once that influences the qualities of blood circulating connected and disconnected, or offering a kind in my body, and these qualities in turn affect of mediated connection between in and my neural system. i feel not quite right, light-outside. inside, on most levels, the building is headed, off-balance. i am chemically altered split in two, separated into a long room and a by surrounding environment, and this is 'workshop room'. (**is this right? was it always the case. this is constantly occurring in warehouse space instead?). as many levels lived experience, though usually much more the experience of the building was effected. As subtly. what i breathe in forms me. and what i a result, we felt that some disorientation came exhale is taken up by others and contributes to about, as it was difficult to discern which level their formation. this ongoing process of one was on. walls and ceilings on most levels reciprocal exchange connects across scales were sheathed in a heavy metal mesh. without distinction from the very intimate to the largest collectives.
This tentativeness
is perhaps one way of looking at the practice as a whole, and has served as a method of research, in our analysis of the site of
intervention as well as in the process of designing and building.
The exterior of the building is covered in a sheath of 16000 sand-blasted glass circles, offering a translucent connection between interior and exterior, thus being at once connected and disconnected, or offering a kind of mediated connection between in and outside. Inside, on most levels, the building is split in two, separated into a long room and a ‘workshop room’. (**is this right? Was it warehouse space instead?). As many levels the experience of the building was effected. As a result, we felt that some disorientation came about, as it was difficult to discern which level
one was on. Walls and ceilings on most levels were sheathed in a heavy metal mesh.