Inseparable Webs

Body, Mind & Space

October 2012

Discourses on the nature of space and its relationship to the human experience has been debated both within philosophical and architectural circles for many years. Space and human, on first glance, would appear to be completely separate; man in his corporeal flesh as a commanding subject, organises, manipulates and inhabits space. Straightforward as this may seem, as soon as notions of experience are introduced, the separation of man and space are thrown into chaos. Questions of ‘what is comfortable space?’ or more provocatively, ‘why and how do I experience space the way I do?’ requires a slightly more insightful approach to this relationship between individuals and spaces.

One such approach belongs to Maurice Merleau-Ponty, who suggests that a person’s experience of space and more importantly, forming an understanding of individual identity is anything but straightforward. He argues that the body is not merely a container, the mind is not an entirely independent entity of thought and subsequently, body and mind are not separable from space. Merleau-Ponty’s work, “The Intertwining – The Chiasm” twists and contorts accepted notions of these three apparently separate elements in an attempt to demonstrate their complex interrelationships. Human experiences become caught up in “...participation in and kinship with the visible, the vision neither envelops it nor is enveloped by it...” (Merleau-Ponty, 1968, p. 138). Perception is no longer simply the case of looking or seeing objects in space, but becomes intertwined with our entire inherited culture and history of experiences, both helping to formulate a sense of place while also interacting and changing our ‘individual’ identity. This essay examines the notion of ‘individual’ identity and how its definition is inevitably intertwined and inseparable from engagement with spatiality, paradoxically raising the question of whether ‘individuality’ is truly ‘individual’.

The notion of a dynamic relationship between experience of space and the individual can be seen in our physical bodily construct. Our embodied flesh can be read as an inherently curious and sensory being. Each part of our body has been designed to sense a particular aspect of the tactile physical world around it, a person constitutes “...a life of given consciousness from which [sensory elements] later emerge, the life of my eyes, hands and ears, which are so many natural selves” (Merleau-Ponty, 1994, p. 216). There is an indication that the body has been naturally tuned-in to provide people with experiences which can define spatiality: scents, sounds, tastes, touch and vision. These senses however, as Gail Weiss suggests are “...weaving together disparate gestures, movements, bodies, and situations into a dynamic fabric of meaning that must be continually reworked, made, and unmade” (Weiss, 2006, p. 148). The experiences inevitably received from an individual’s bodily flesh is therefore constantly comparing, interacting both with each other and relating to its immediate experience with a history and culture of other experiences (Grosz, 1994, p. 99). This varied and complex interaction of senses and spaces suggests that our body is not simply ‘a thing’ but a phenomenal and objective body that is inherently intelligent (Merleau-Ponty, 1968, pp. 135-6), subconsciously and constantly interacting with environments to produce an understanding of our well-being and of the world around us.

Vision, as one of these core senses can be scrutinised in more detail to highlight how the relationship between individuals and space is not as simple as it would appear. Alongside the other senses, sight in particular implies “prepossession of the visible” (Merleau-Ponty, 1968, p. 133), an inherent need to perceive the world around us in a subjective manner. Vision becomes the primary tool of interaction between the ‘independent’ corporeal being and the world around it and as such shows that “...as well as being a physical property of dimension or extent, ‘space’ is also a property of the mind, part of the apparatus through which we perceive the world” (Forty, 2000, p. 256). Our recognition of space therefore does not stem necessarily from an independent mind blessed with absolute knowledge, but is a process involving the entire body, of continual immersion within and engagement with the world before us (Weiss, 2006, p. 157). As Merleau-Ponty describes, our body and all its sensations is a gateway, “...I am from the start outside myself and open to the world” (Merleau-Ponty, 1994, p. 456), meaning that it is through the process of understanding the world around the ‘individual’ that we become aware of ourselves, our existence and our place in relation to other ‘individuals’.

Given that a person’s formation of individuality appears strongly entrenched in comparative experiences of the body’s memorized history of space, it can no longer be said with certainty that an individual is truly independent of space. Instead, in our formation of space, “...the seer is caught up in what he sees, [meaning that] it is still himself he sees: there is a fundamental narcissism in all seeing.” (Merleau-Ponty, 1968, p. 139). Therefore, when we perceive space, it is not merely a separate environment that is seen, but an environment caught up in and informing us as individuals and our place in relation to everyone and everything else in the world. The very act of perception is therefore not impartial in itself, it is not “...anchored in a fixed, objective framework, [instead] they [spaces] are intrinsic to the situation of perception, and can differ across individuals, habits, and social settings” (Morris, 2004, p. 23). This relationship implies that “we inhabit the world and all things in the world in a bodily way,” (Krell, 1995, p. 142) meaning that the supposed objectivity of our senses is in fact, subjective, a complex web of personal and cultural experiences which allows us to actively reside in the world. Heidegger further goes on to show that this is a two-fold relationship, that when “...[we] reflect on ourselves, we come back to ourselves from things without ever abandoning our stay among things” (Heidegger, 1997, p. 107). Any attempt to formulate an understanding of ‘individual’ identity becomes mixed in memories and familiarities of spaces which we live through our body, meaning that identity is itself caught up inescapably in a fabric of culture and experiences.

Our internalised construction of individual identity is however only one aspect of this complex relationship, as our ‘physical’ place in the world is also entrenched in an understanding of spaces and objects. These things and objects provides individuals with grounding “...since every conceivable being is related either directly or indirectly to the perceived world, and since the perceived world is grasped only in terms of direction, we cannot disassociate being from orientated being...” (Merleau-Ponty, 1994, p. 253). Our sense of physical existence is dependent on our interaction with the world, furthering the notion that ‘individual’ identity finds itself not through the autonomy of embodied flesh, but through its recognition and interaction with what is perceived as surrounding ‘non-flesh’ or ‘not my embodied being’. Through our body, we recognise notions of “...things near and far, foregrounds and horizons, and because in this way it forms a picture and acquires significance before me...” (Merleau-Ponty, 1994, p. 408). Our orientation in three dimensional space through interpreting vision is thus also at the core of the formation of our ‘individual’ identities. Heidegger also highlights that space is not a separate entity, “It is neither an external object nor an inner experience. It is not that there are men, and over and above them, space...” (Heidegger, 1997, p. 106). Space is rather the necessary link which allows an individual to perceive their sense of autonomy from other individuals within particular surroundings, paradoxically showing that the two are in fact inseparable and mutually dependant.

This perception and sense of spatiality and place in the world plays a significant role in recognition, as the following example shows. The question of the two buildings’ function shown above1 appears straightforward, although different in historical time periods, architects, location, architectural form and expression; there is an instinctive conclusion that these are commercial offices. It could be argued that the glass curtain facades, the situation in a high density environment or the apparent height of the buildings are all indicative symbols that they are ‘office towers’. This is not an incorrect justification, as urban theorist and semiologist Kevin Lynch declares, all buildings have a form of cognitive legibility which “must have some meaning for the observer, whether practical or emotional” (Lynch, 1960, p. 8). The question of urban space in this context however is not ‘where and what are the symbols for individuals to 

recognise?’ but rather ‘what triggers the individual’s ability to recognise these perceived symbols?’ It is important to note that our understanding of the two office towers in Merleau- Ponty’s terms, is based on an entrenched history of seeing, visiting and interacting with different urban landscapes, and experiencing different typologies of ‘the office’, allowing us to conclude that the images of the buildings above are ‘office towers’. Our understanding and sense of space therefore does not stem from the body as a sensory machine which decodes the signs of depth (in this case, perceived signs), but rather is formulated through the interwoven crossing between the body and the world, without a necessarily simple division between the two (Morris, 2004, p. 5).

Buildings do not simply exist with its meaning already obvious to the observer. How we perceive space is not set out in black and white. As Heidegger explains, “the environment does not arrange itself in a space which has been given in advance...” (Heidegger, 1962/1995, p. 138), indicating that meaning does not pre-exist the body and mind, waiting for interpretation but rather, works with the body and mind. This relationship is what provides “...a power to signify, a birth of meaning...an expression of experience by experience” (Merleau-Ponty, 1968, p. 155), as each individual interprets and experiences the building differently. Moreover, how we read the world is “...not [as] a system of objects which we synthesize, but a totality of things, open to us, towards which we project ourselves” (Merleau-Ponty, 1994, p. 387). This becomes an ongoing process of exchange, where there are “...modes of simulation which have overtaken and transformed whatever each [body and city] may have had to the image of the other...” (Grosz, 1992, p. 242). Both Merleau-Ponty and Grosz highlight that the relationship between space and body is not straightforwardly subject and object, but rather an overlapping where subject becomes object and vice-versa. The result is an interconnected web whereby the individual’s identity is informed by their experiences of the city, but in turn also affects and changes interpretations of their surroundings.

Aside from interpretation however, there is also an emotionally evocative side of spatial experience which hinges upon memories. Architect Peter Zumthor writes of how space, “...in this perceptual vacuum, [is where] a memory may surface, a memory which seems to issue from the depths of time” (Zumthor, 1988, p. 17) as a descriptive approach to explaining the many subconscious and evocative links an architect can manipulate to create emotive experiences of space. One prominent example of how space is being recreated for the purposes of memory is with the World Trade Centre Memorial and new 1WTC Tower. The creation of a memorial, as the name suggests requires the recall of memories and in this regard, the creation of space is an obvious example of the individual’s embodied relationship with it. As Weiss suggests, the September 11, 2001 Attacks in New York is “...one of the most vivid contemporary examples of the powerful role the city plays in our very sense of our own corporeality” (Weiss, 2006, p. 151), both due to the disturbing nature of terrorism as well as a sense of instability. Not only is death uncommon in the heart of a metropolis (the individual feels out-of-place), but the very fact that two monumental towers could collapse so easily is unnerving at an emotional level.

Despite the tragedy of such a disaster, what can be seen is how specific events reshape an understanding of space and more importantly how it informs individual identity. The design of the new memorial and buildings which once stood on the site is almost painfully evocative in memories of what was there before, and embodies in many ways the bodily identities of those associated, affected and in some way related to the catastrophic events of that day (Weiss, 2006, p. 152). The memories of the disaster become engrained both with the people and with the environment itself, that is, the former presence of the two towers and the event will form part of the city’s history. While this is an obvious case relating to a particularly tragic occurrence, a similar relationship occurs between an individual and all other spaces he interacts with and engages in on a daily basis. Memories are inevitably caught up in our histories and subconscious definitions of spaces, thus forming our own identities as well as our own interpretations of the places we visit and experience.

Space itself, like our body and our identity is therefore not something that sits independently, inherited with a meaning ready for interpretation, rather, as architectural historian Adrian Forty points out, it is “...‘a continuous force field’, activated by man’s movement and desire for life” (Forty, 2000, p. 266). It has an ability to “...command bodies, prescribing or proscribing gestures, routes and distances to be covered” (Lefebvre, 1974/2000, p. 183), both governing and suggesting how individuals interact with it and as a result, obtains function, meaning and purpose. The city within which we inhabit and interact with daily, therefore becomes not a loose construction of buildings but “a richly textured fabric of meaning...ties that collectively produce varied stylizations...” (Weiss, 2006, p. 148), where each interpretation is enriching both for the individual and for the space. Each time we enter a space, whether inside a building or outdoors, “...we connect with it in a different way, and that connection makes us re-sense our sense of space” (Morris, 2004, p. 181). This shows that while our definition of space is through our experience, our experiences are also constantly changing, becoming enriched with time but also more interwoven and complex. This inevitably subjective experience, Merleau-Ponty explains, “...is merely one with my existence as a body and with the existence of the world...” (Merleau- Ponty, 1994, p. 409) implying that the two are inseparable.

In recognising the linkages between the corporeal body, the mind and spaces, forming a clear cut definition of spatiality no longer seems possible. Zumthor for example merely concludes that “the longer I think about it [space], the more mysterious it becomes...they [architects] embrace the mysterious void called space in a special way and make it vibrate” (Zumthor, 1988, p. 21). This vibration he refers to, being a different experience and different interpretation for each individual shows that space is a unique but embodied part of our physical and mental construct. Memory, history, and culture become entangled with perception, sound and feeling; and, to add to the incoherent mixture, this in turn becomes caught up with the individual experiences of friends, family and people we interact with. Layer upon layer of complexity adds to form a web of connections. To be an individual, it would seem, requires us to be consistently linked to many aspects of space and other individuals, to accept conformity in order to recognise similarities and differences, and in doing so, become perceived as ‘individual’. While there is apparent chaos caused by these intertwining, inseparable connections between space, mind and body, it is only through this that we obtain our identities and in a sense, at the very least, feel and believe that we are a unique and ‘individual’.

References

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• <http://www.forbes.com/2001/09/11/0911twoplanes13.html>.

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• Grosz, E 1994, 'Lived Bodies: Phenomenology and the Flesh', in Volatile Bodies: Toward a Corporeal Feminism, Allen & Unwin, Sydney, pp. 86-111

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• Merleau-Ponty, M 1994, Phenomenology of Perception, Routledge, London.

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• Zumthor, P 1988, 'A Way of Looking at Things', in Thinking Architecture, Birkhauser, Basel, Switzerland, pp. 9 - 34.