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page194from Nordic Architects Writes
Experience as exchange
The experience of a place or space is
always a curious exchange; as I settle in a space, the space settles in me. I
live in a city and the city dwells in me. We are in a constant exchange with
our settings; simultaneously we internalized the setting and project our own
bodies, or aspects of our body schemes, on the setting. Memory and actuality,
perception and dream merge. This secret physical and mental intertwining and
identification also takes place in all artistic experience. In Joseph Brodsky’s
view every poem tells the reader “Be like me”. Here lies the ethical power of
all authentic works of art; we internalized them and integrate them with our
very sense of sel. A fine piece of music, poetry or architecture becomes a part
of my physical and moral self. The Czech writer Bohumil Hrabail gives a vivid
description of this bodily association in the act of reading:
When
I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence in my mouth and such it
like a fruit drop or I sip it like a liqueur until the though dissolves in me
like alcohol, infusing my brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to
the root of each blood vessel.20
Remembering
is not only a mental event; it is also an act of embodiment and projection. Memories
are not only hidden in the secret electrochemical processes of the brain; they
are also stored in our skeletons, muscles and skin. All our sense and organs
think and remember.
The embodied memory
I can recall the hundreds of hotel rooms
around the world, which I have temporarily inhabited during my five decades of
travelling, with their furniture, colour schemes and lighting, because I have
invested and left parts of my body and my mind in these anonymous and
insignificant rooms. The protagonist of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time
reconstructs similarly his very identity and location through his embodied
memory:
My
body, still too heavy with sleep to move, would endeavor to construe from the
pattern of its tiredness the position of its various limbs, in order to deduce
therefrom the direction of the wall, the location of the furniture, to piece
together and give a name to the house in which it lay. Its memory, the
composite memory of its ribs, its knees, its shoulder-blades, offers it a whole
series of rooms in which it had at one time or another slept, while the unseen
walls, shifting and adapting themselves to the shape of each successive room
that it remembered, whirled it in the dark … my body, would recall from each
room in succession the style of the bed, the position of the doors, the angle
at which the sunlight came in at the windows, whether there was a passage
outside, what I had had in mind when I went to sleep and found there when I
awoke.21
We
are again encountering an experience that brings to mind a fragmented Cubist
composition. We are taught to think of memory as a cerebral capacity, but the
act of memory engages our entire body.
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