There is a saying that “architecture is frozen music”. If this means that architecture is an art form concerned with time, I can understand that. However, I question the use of the word “frozen”, because architecture is constantly changing, evolving and moving – its very existence is about movement.
For Ma Yansong, the architecture of the future is “all about movement”
In the May editorial for Domus, Ma Yansong challenges the idea of architecture as “frozen music.” Buildings, he argues, are not static forms but ever-changing spaces shaped by moving bodies, light, and human relationships.
Physically speaking, architectural materials have historically been chosen for their strength and durability, for economic reasons. Architecture also became a means of pursuing eternity. However, while this may have been the goal, thousands of years are sufficient for nature to erode or bury even the sturdiest building materials. So-called eternity is merely a relative measure of time.
Setting aside the seemingly pedantic question of physics, the ultimate purpose of architectural space is the movement of people within that space, so it must prioritise circulation. People must walk, sit, lie down and lean against surfaces within a building, so their relationship with the walls and floors is constantly changing. Combined with time, this creates a four-dimensional dynamic relationship.
Architecture is frozen music
Architecture enables people to move through space, time, light and sound. More importantly, it can transform relationships. The spaces and forms of architecture are closely intertwined with human behaviour, psychology and social dynamics. Architecture is about dynamic relationships between people. A locked door can divide a space like a solid wall, while a pane of glass can bring outdoor scenery and light into the interior. A staircase connects the upper and lower levels, but a ramp turns this connection into a stroll through nature.
The construction and fall of the Berlin Wall altered more than just the city’s physical landscape; it also brought about a fundamental transformation in people’s lives. In OMA’s design of Très Grande Bibliothèque (1989, unbuilt), the floors are all sloped and curved, ensuring that the upper and lower levels are no longer separated and encouraging interaction among people within the building. As people move through the building, it comes to life.
In addition to meeting human needs, architecture should inspire and interact with people.
Since people are always on the move within any building, why emphasise that the building itself should also move? The answer is simple. In addition to meeting human needs, architecture should inspire and interact with people. In Mies van der Rohe’s floor plan for the Brick Country House (1924, unbuilt), the building’s walls are fluid and dynamic, magically allowing different spaces to interpenetrate one another. The boundaries between interior and exterior are blurred and interconnected, giving people greater autonomy and, through the experience of this autonomy, freedom of action and spirit in the movement.
Future architecture will encourage movement in terms of spatial transitions between interior and exterior spaces, as well as various forms of interdisciplinary exchange, as boundaries become increasingly blurred.
Opening image: Maggie's Cancer Caring Centre in Snøhetta. Photo Philip Vilie. Courtesy of Maggie Keswick Jencks Cancer Caring Centres