Architectural Speech

Acknowledgments

Seven years ago, conditions arose for supporters of the development of architectural and urban design culture to respond positively to the proposal of publishing a quarterly journal in this field, and over six and a half years of its uninterrupted publication, they increasingly supported the efforts of its researchers, writers, translators, and editors. The nearly three thousand pages of content produced through this wide-ranging collaboration constitute a relatively comprehensive chronicle of the architecture and urban design of this era, in which the journal itself has played an undeniable role in nurturing intellectual endeavors and serving as a bridge connecting these efforts. Several other journals, both before and after it, have also taken on this same role and, despite financial and administrative difficulties, continue on their path.

The country grows more populous; the need for development and construction increases; more people enter the professions of architecture, urban design, and building; dialogue with the world and the exchange of cultures intensifies; in the arena of transforming the shape of civilization and human settlement, architecture is naturally called upon to protect nature, safeguard development, and serve humanity. Supporters of architectural and urban design culture likewise increase their patronage, and the capacity of researchers and writers in architecture and urban design grows proportionally. The quarterly Me'mar, whose first issue is now in your hands by the grace of God, is the product of this evolving landscape. The times nurture what they must nurture.

The felt need for a new architecture journal became evident with the announcement of support for its publication last winter. Immediately thereafter, generous financial contributions from supporters whose names you see below made it possible to begin. To design the journal's content and format, we consulted diverse professional and academic groups. From the totality of opinions and suggestions, it became clear that while acknowledging the growing importance of urban design and construction discourse, there was an emphatic demand for a journal primarily oriented toward architecture and urban design, encompassing all theoretical and practical dimensions in relation to both domestic and international developments. We hope this first issue represents the first step in meeting the expectations of our supporters.

Our commitment to executing the plan we have devised for this journal is a weighty one: broader engagement with all activities that advance architecture, whether in the realm of design or construction and industry; meticulous and faithful presentation of works and approaches; the endeavor to open the door to criticism and cultivate a living, contemporary language rooted in the reality of works built in our country; the exploration of theoretical discourse; reflection of major developments in world architecture and urban design, accompanied by selections of works and ideas; and attention to the vital role of youth in the rapid transformations of our era. As before, we extend our hand of fellowship to all.

Architectural Speech

In architecture too, as in every other activity, people use language to communicate with one another. This is a particular language, corresponding to the characteristics and requirements of architectural activity. The distinctive function of architecture is its response to the human nature of dwelling on earth. The language of architecture likewise springs from the nature of this response. What shows architecture its path and demands how it should be is the dwelling nature of humankind. In other words, the essential truth of architecture, its perpetual guide and the guarantor of its dignity, is dwelling. Therefore, the language of architecture is rooted, fundamentally and before all else, in the human experience of dwelling.

The experience of dwelling is not one experience among hundreds of others. The totality of human experience in this world is, on the one hand, the dual journey of biological and psychological existence, and on the other, settlement and dwelling upon the earth. Dwelling and journeying, which seemingly pull in opposite directions — one centripetal and the other centrifugal — are not in contradiction or opposition such that one would neutralize the other; rather, each complements and sustains the other. The destination of all journeys is the homeland, the abode. Yet every homeland and abode becomes once again the origin of new journeys. Dwelling never means severing one's connection to the outside. Dwelling is the gravitational pull toward the center, while maintaining ties to the periphery. It is the gathering of center and periphery. It is concentration from the entirety of one's environment.

Thus, human life on earth takes no form other than dwelling and habitation. Architecture weaves this dwelling around the human being, alongside every experience one undergoes. All these experiences that, within the orbit of dwelling, bind center and periphery together, find their reflection in the language of architecture as well. The essential substance of the language of architecture is dwelling.

The civilized existence that humankind possesses beyond its natural existence is potential. One must actualize it with one's own hands. Without actualizing it, life remains incomplete and unfinished, and in an unfinished life one finds no peace or rest. This restlessness drives one toward actualization — toward building. All the instruments of civilization must be constructed by actualizing the faculties that exist within. For dwelling too, one must build a means. Architecture is the making of the instrument of dwelling. Therefore, the language of architecture is a constructional or technical language that carries the meaning of dwelling.

Every instrument that humankind makes is necessarily composed of parts. It possesses dimension. From the combination of parts and dimensions, form is brought into being. The possibilities of dimension and form are unlimited. What ultimately comes into being from among these unlimited possibilities is neither accidental, involuntary, nor indifferent to the maker. What causes a particular dimension and form to be chosen — the internal relationships of parts, of dimensions, or of human psychological nature — is where the discussion of "taste" originates. What is taste in the human being? Can common characteristics be found in the products of human taste that might serve as a basis for universal judgment about their aesthetic value? Should we deny the fundamental principle of taste and its innate nature? Yet without the outward manifestations of taste, its existence cannot be discerned. These manifestations are realized in the form of products that humans make, and this is what causes the shared surface qualities of works to become the subject of research into how they correspond to natural taste. In this way, the language of architecture extends into discussions of taste, discernment, and criticism.

The substance of the public language of architecture — which is the language of the dweller — derives from the very response that architecture gives to the human nature of dwelling. How this response manifests in word and utterance, and what associations it evokes when spoken, is a matter of linguistic inquiry and beyond our present purpose. What matters is that the language of architecture must evoke the response to the dwelling nature of humankind. Beyond words like "house," "room," "roof," "porch," and "courtyard," words like "arch" and "niche" and "door" and "threshold," and even "brick" and "mortar" and "bond" and "plaster" — each in its own way evokes the dwelling-giving role of these architectural elements. None of these elements is mere geometry, mere mineral, mere form, or mere instrument. Geometry, material, form, and instrumentality have all assumed such architectural character in response to the need for human dwelling.

The public language of architecture in our daily life today has become greatly impoverished. People do not know the names of most parts, components, forms, and instruments. This poverty of language stems from a damage that has disrupted the healthy instinct of our dwelling — the very thing that architecture is meant to answer.

What is the substance of the pedagogical language? One might claim that pedagogical language is the cornerstone of the language of architecture. The teacher, before being a teacher, is a maker and a creator. They both build and transmit the craft — the "art" — to the next generation. It is they who, by selecting and working materials upon the earth, by stacking and covering, and at every stage by measuring, respond to the human need for dwelling; and simultaneously with this architectural act, they bestow upon every part, member, space, or form they create a name that, beyond its constructional or technical identity, possesses the identity of dwelling-giving. Pedagogical language is the richest part of the language of architecture and perhaps of all non-verbal arts. This language too has fallen into decline in our era. Today's schools of architecture, which bear the task of instruction, lack a technical vocabulary. Neither teachers nor, consequently, students know the names of most parts and methods. The poverty of pedagogical language is a sign of the weakening of the spirit of making and creation.

The pedagogical language of architecture, composed of two groups of vocabulary — terms for parts and terms for methods of use — represents architecture's participation in the making of language and the mutual benefit derived from it in the matter of education and training. This language is clear and free of ambiguity. Each word has no more than one referent, and the teacher can easily convey their meaning to the student through it. The teacher's intent, whether at elementary or advanced stages of instruction, always has specific external referents. The accompaniment of instruction with observation and practice facilitates and confirms this correspondence.

How is pedagogical language made? Education is a historical-cultural current in which personal methods and temperaments have no effect. Individuals do not have the capacity to become the source of pedagogical traditions. Methods and temperaments that become the source of pedagogical traditions are those that acquire ethnic and historical dimensions. Such traditions are rituals that have been passed down through history to a people. Pedagogical language is a ritual language. The ritual of architecture also possesses its own pedagogical language, composed of the names of parts and their uses. One should not assume that parts and uses are simple or superficial concepts. These terms, which are the names and signs of parts and uses, and which thus denote specific external referents, are at the same time bearers of the architectural response to the human need for dwelling. They also speak of the reciprocal relationship between the artist and the art-seeker, which we shall discuss further. The language of Iranian architecture, which was never written down, and which Master Pirnia endeavored to faithfully narrate, and which is perhaps the essential language of traditional architectures — was a pedagogical and ritual language. This language was used both by architects, builders, and construction workers, whose purpose was artisanal and productive understanding, and by the buyers and owners of architecture, who used the same language for the purpose of...