BREAKING DOWN INTO PARTICLES:

The first time I used louvers was in ‘Water/Glass’. That work is basically a transparent glass box inserted between the two horizontal planes of floor and roof. Since the roof, which extends out towards the sea, would cast an enormous dark shadow and become a conspicuous object if it were make of opaque panels, I undertook various studies to see if I could somehow make it less powerful.

One possibility was to use transparent glass, which would certainly have eliminated any shadow. However, if the glass itself were transparent, the supporting steel str5ucture might become too assertive. I considered frosted glass. If the structure were situated above the glass, it would only appear as a faint shadow to someone looking up. Frosted glass is halfway between transparency and opacity, and might have been the ideal material for dissolving the architecture. However, I did not select it because it was not compatible with water. A 15-centimetre-deep pool of water is a key feature of ‘water/Glass’. The water surface reflects light, and fine particles of light are scattered throughout the space. I wanted a similar particled effect on the roof. Frosted glass is translucent but appears heavy and viscous.

I considered perforated metal. Like frosted glass it is halfway between transparency and opacity and projects a particled image. However, I decided against it because the particles did not sparkle. When light hits water, particles of reflected light dance over the surface; what would produce such a glittering effect on the roof?

I decided in the end to use stainless steel louvers, with blades 1.5 millimetres wide and 75 millimetres high, set at 75-millimetre intervals. The stainless steel was livelier and sparkled more than any other material; it responded most sensitively to changes in light. The louvers cast dark, striped shadows if light hits them diagonally, or become transparent if light passes directly through. They appear in different guises depending on the environment and their relationship to the subject. If the line of sight is parallel to the blades, the louvers seem light and perfectly transparent; if it is at right angles to the blades, they seem heavy and opaque. If frontally lit, they reveal their colour; if backlit, they lose their colour and appear in dark silhouette. Louvers stand between the environment and the subject and reflect that relationship; they interact more than they reflect. If materials that have an invariable and distinctive colour, texture and degree of transparency are absolute, then louvers are relative: their character is not fully determined by the designer or architect but is left in part to each observer, allowing for his or her input. In that way louvers are like rainbows. A rainbow is not something absolute that exists somewhere, but instead it is generated by the relationship between the sun, droplets of water and the observer. Rainbows are relative because they are collections of particles-the operative word being ‘particles’.

By using louvers in ‘Water/Glass’ I effectively transformed and relativised the architecture, creating a condition as ambiguous and variable as that of drifting particles; that is, I ‘particlised’ the architecture. Endeavours of a similar nature were undertaken in a number of different fields towards the end of the nineteenth century.
The impressionists, for example, ‘pariclised’ painting. They believed that colours should be mixed, not on the artist’s palette, but on the retina of the observer. When colours are mixed on a palette，there is a subtractive process and the colour approaches black．The more one mixes pigments in an attempt to create a subtle colour, the darker and heavier it becomes．The impressionists attempted to avoid this by applying pure colours directly onto the canvas in dispersed dots．Mixed on the retina of the observer, these dots created subtle hues and shades．

The impressionists were critical not just of the conventional method of painting but of the relationship between the artist and the observer．Before impressionism, the artist had a privileged status, and the observer was expected to assume a completely passive role．The unilateral nature of this relationship determined the character of works of art—their technique, exhibition and dissemination．Works of an ambiguous or dispersed (i.e. particlised) nature were excluded from consideration because they were not easily accommodated in this unilateral relationship．The system favoured more powerful and coherent works whose objects were clear and coercive and revealed everything about themselves from the outset．There was no possibility of multiple interpretations．

In the wake of impressionism, the painter Georges Seurat devised a specific, scientific method to depict objects—pointillism—which is most fully demonstrated in his Sunday Afternoon On the Island of La Grande latte (1886)．Seurat assigned colours to his dots，which were fine and uniform，in accordance with the optical theories of Eugene Chevreul and Ogden Nicholas Rood．among others．He wanted to make painting scientific because science was open to everyone；in this way, he hoped to destroy the notion of the privileged artist and the unilateral character of the existing relationship between artist and observer．

Seurat died aged 31，and the method he developed was short-lived too, while he remained committed to dabs of paint of a uniform size，other artists quickly discovered that those spots of colour were a superb medium of expression, and that individuality and inner character could be conveyed by subtle changes in their size and the force with which they were applied．The touch of the artist

could be as powerful and individualistic a means of expression as composition or colour．An increasing interest in individual expression led to the demise of pointillism and the rise of fauvism and other twentieth-century art movements．

A further reason for the failure of pointillism was Seurat's idea that painting could be transformed into science by means of colour optics．This goal was not embraced by less scientifically oriented painters．Instead，the avant-garde focused on the reduction of painting to simple geometrical objects，as defined by Cezanne and the cubists．

The end of the nineteenth century was a period of ‘particlisation' in architecture as well，but whereas painters were concerned to integrate aesthetics and science，architects were from the start divided between an aesthetic and a technical approach．Most of the century had been marked by a battle of styles between classicism and the gothic．As historians have pointed out，the two styles share many elements in common,1 most notably a roof with a basically triangular cross section and a centralised，stable character that exercises control over both the parts and the whole of the building．However, the impressions they create vary widely because the objective, in the case of classicism，is to heighten the intensity of the object, whereas the objective of the gothic is to break down matter．In classical architecture, the building is set on a podium，becoming a massive, highly assertive autonomous object．In gothic architecture，by contrast，the building is articulated into small elements：columns，for example，are deliberately designed to suggest bundles of slender members．As a result, there is no sense of mass but only a weightless，immaterial space．

Out of this context emerged art nouveau，which was critical of the heaviness and darkness of traditional architecture and its equation with political or religious authority．The whole basic structure of the world was beginning to change, as new means of transport such as the railway evolved at an astonishing rate．Whereas politics and religion were still vertical forms of communication，transport was for the most part a horizontal form of communication．Hector Guimar's lightweight wrought-iron entrance canopies for the Paris Metro can be seen as an expression of this change．Art nouveau buildings associated with transportation were to be made as light as possible，using the materials of the new age．

Art nouveau broke new ground，but like pointillism was extremely short-lived．The classical principle of validating objects through the authority of prototypes had become so engrained that it coloured the thinking even of avant-garde architects critical of classicism．In the case of art nouveau，there was too heavy a reliance on plant motifs，which were too delicate to sustain the movement as a whole．

Reservations about representation led to another approach to particlisation in architecture in the early twentieth century：industrialised buildings．Buildings are by their very nature more or less industrialised，but the term here has a special nuance．The primary method of building in the West before the twentieth century was masonry construction，based on units of stone or brick which are laid one by one and bonded with a substance such as mortar．A building constructed by this method is inevitably a heavy mass．In essence, industrialization referred to technologies used to break down that heavy mass into particles，and specifically to 'dry' construction (Trockenmontagebau)．Dry construction is the opposite of wet construction, a building technique that mixes a material with water, and is completed only when that material has dried．is referred to as wet construction．In wet construction，particles adhere to each other and are not individually distinguishable．In dry construction, water is not used and the particles remain individuated．Walter Gropius foresaw the great importance of dry construction and made it a pillar of architectural education at the Bauhaus.2 He was an ardent advocate of prefabricated concrete construction，which involved the on-site assembly of slabs and panels that had been manufactured in a factory．Particlisation was the most important theme for architects at this turning point in history．

Nevertheless，the form of particlisation known as industrialisation met with setbacks．Buildings broken down into different elements were considered weak and ambiguous in terms of their expression，just as Seurat's paintings were considered weak and ambiguous．The twentieth—century system of communication weeded out particlised works of architecture．However, Works designed by Le Corbusier survived that process of elimination．Oddly enough，Le Corbusier also began with particles．His Maison Dom—ino, published in 1915，was the first important work of his career．His perspective of that scheme became one of the most famous architectural drawings of the twentieth century. Le Corbusier proposed a system based on prefabricated floor panels and steel beams．The Maison Dom—ino was without doubt a dry-construction industrialised house．In subsequent works，however, Le Corbusier abandoned the theme of industrialisation with surprising alacrity．He continued to make statements proclaiming the need for a new technology for a new age, but in his actual work showed practically no interest in dry construction．He remained to the end an architect of in-situ concrete，that is，of wet construction．His about-face enabled him to become the champion of the modern movement．

Le Corbusier dedicated himself to creating 'scientific' (that is，pure geometrical)forms．With dry construction，the abstract character of the planes is inevitably marred by the joints that arise between the panels when they are assembled on site．With in-situ concrete，on the other hand，pure geometrical forms can be created without joints．Moreover concrete, with its suggestion of great mass and aggregation, is effective in endowing forms with an aura of strength．But concrete is not at first heavy, hard or strong；it is fluid，before it quickly sets and hardens．This radical and almost mysterious transformation further reinforces its image of strength．

Le Corbusier made full use of this special quality, though he did not become interested in concrete because of its method of production．What prompted him to convert to an architecture of objects was the shift from particles to objects that took place in painting，the evolution from cubism to suprematism and purism．

Le Corbusier was active in both painting and architecture and won renown by 'trading' between them．Together with the painter Amédéé Ozenfant he initiated an art movement called purism，which focused on the pure，essential forms of geometrical objects．Le Corbusier imported that same shift into the world of architecture, so ensuring that the logic of architecture was suppressed by the logic of painting, and that the logic of production was suppressed by the logic of communication．Straddling two fields of endeavour and two systems of logic，adroitly importing and exporting ideas, Le Corbusier ultimately gave powerful objects of concrete a central role in twentieth-century architecture．

Le Corbusier was not solely responsible for the changes that took place．The twentieth-century system of communication sought objects and，as a result, twentieth- century architecture came to be dominated by obiects. If we wish to recover particlised，that is，ambiguous, variable and relativistic works of architecture，we will have to intervene once more in the system of communication．Unless we critically examine and reverse our passive form of appreciation，architecture will remain object-oriented：the logic of production and the logic of the user will continue to be suppressed by the logic of communication．

Communication between architecture and people, that is, the appreciation of architecture, occurs mainly in three phases．In the first, phenomenological phase，an actual Person experiences an actual space．The second phase, the realm of micromedia, determines in what form actual works of architecture are converted into media. How, for example，is architecture converted into a two-dimensional print medium? How is it converted into drawings? At what angles，in what sort of light and with what degree of resolution are photographs of architecture taken? The third phase is the realm of macromedia．This determines how architecture，having been converted into media，is disseminated or transmitted．In what forms are books and magazines on architecture sold? What kind of architecture do art museums select for exhibition, and on what basis? What kind of visitors do they expect to attract, and how are the exhibitions promoted?

The important thing here is not the number of phases，but rather the interrelations that exist between them. The form of architecture can influence the choice of the medium it is converted into as well as the subsequent form of distribution or transmission．That influence can also be reversed：the form of distribution or transmission can influence the medium into which architecture is converted，and even the form it takes．These two opposing vectors continually roil the architectural world．Generating shockwaves that reshape architectural history．

One might call pre-twentieth-century architecture photographic architecture or, better still，perspectival architecture, because from the Renaissance period perspective was the basic method of reproducing and disseminating architecture．Photography was simply an extension of that method．Like perspective, it is a medium in which time is abstracted；in other words，it converts architecture into limited numbers of two-dimensional still images obtained by a subject observing an object from a certain distance．That distance must be maintained for the object to be reproduced without distortion．

In photography a clear, absolute silhouette is required，since materials and details are difficult to distinguish from beyond a certain distance．Moreover, the building is required to be absolute in character, since the image is transmitted through limited amounts of two-dimensional information. By 'absolute' I mean invariable：the character of the building must not be affected by changes either in the building's relationship to the subject or environmental factors such as the intensity and direction of sunlight．A building that is relative in character, by contrast, is one that can seem entirely different depending on its relationship to the subject；in this sense it is like a rainbow．It is difficult to obtain an overall image of a building with a relative character from limited amounts of two-dimensional information．The image remains fragmented；it never coalesces, even when a number of different aspects are overlapped．

That is why particlised architecture is the polar opposite of photographic architecture．The silhouette is ambiguous．When viewed from a distance，it is hard to distinguish the constituent particles. A particlised work is extremely relative in nature．It can appear transparent and weightless one moment and opaque and massive the next, depending on the way light hits it．It does not possess a clear overall image and never appears to advantage in photographs or perspectives，which are best suited to objects that are not apt to blur or vary.

Just as architecture before the twentieth century was photographic, twentieth-century architecture was oriented towards the moving image，which represented the cutting edge in communication systems．Yet moving images proved expensive and susceptible to manipulation，so it continued to be disseminated by Way of still pictures in books and magazines．The biggest media-related task in twentieth-century architecture was therefore to close the gap between moving images and still images．Architecture was not the only field in which this dilemma had to be confronted．It was the very essence of the era and determined the form of every aspect of culture．

Le Corbusier devised the most ingenious architectural strategy for closing that gap．He made the path of circulation manifest (see Chapter 1，Making a Connection)．By detaching stairs and ramps from other architectural elements and giving them independent forms, he transformed the path of circulation inside a building into objects．Moreover, he deliberately arranged those objects in conspicuous positions in space．

The biggest shortcoming of still images is that they cut time into fragments, and so cannot communicate the way it unfolds．What they can do, however, is capture paths of circulation, as embodied in stairs and ramps．Since these allow the subject to move and movement is a function of time, photographs of paths of circulation can indirectly suggest time. In photography, everything must be embodied in an object, and through the object anything, even time，can be evoked．

Le Corbusier's objectified paths of circulation, captured in architectural photographs, can be said to have anticipated the GUI (graphical user interface) arranged on the screen of personal computers．The GUI is a window to time opened in a two-dimensional still image．By clicking that window, the subject can move freely to another picture, that is，to another time．0ne cannot click
on photographs of Le Corbusier's paths of circulation, of course, even if they do suggest time．His objects remain a unilateral medium；there is no interactive relationship with the subject．That is the qualitative difference between images such as photographs and film on the one hand, and cyberspace generated by computers on the other.

Le Corbusier did not simply introduce time into architecture．His method was，in a sense, cinematic. Cinema has various in—built devices that connect the subject seeing the images to the space of those images．Poststructuralists showed that alternation of vision is the principle behind those devices．This insight is based on Merleau-Ponty's criticism of visual solipsism，which I have already touched upon, and Lacan's psychoanalysis (see Chapter 6：Reversing)．Lacan coniectured that a subject comes into being only when the person is aware of being seen by others．Lacan assigned great importance to this process, which he refe, red to as 'symbolic identification'．

Poststructuralist theory maintains that images taken simply from the view of a protagonist-taken, in effect, by a camera held to the protagonist's eye-do not constitute cinema．The subject viewing such images never establishes contact with the space of the images，but only feels impatience and discomfort because he cannot confirm his own position in that space．The situation changes the moment another viewpoint，one in which the protagonist himself is seen, is introduced．The subject confirms his position and establishes contact with the environment in the images．One viewpoint is simply insufficient．Alternation between two viewpoints brings the audience into contact with the environment．The camerawork is what makes film cinematic．

In short, the alternation of viewpoints is a necessary condition for cinematic media，just as an absolute silhouette of the object is a necessary condition for photographic media．
Le Corbusier was not an artist of film (although he did make films，such as L’Architecture d'aujourd'hui of 1929, co-directed with Pierre Jeanneret)．The medium he used most often was photography．However，by introducing another point of view, he succeeded in creating 'cinematic'photographs．How was this possible? Through an analysis of Le Corbusier's architectural photographs, Beatriz Colomina has shown how he often suggested an unseen presence and thereby another viewpoint.3 He did this by depicting furniture and objects such as a pair of glasses, as well as paths of circulation．Paths of circulation suggested a person moving along those paths and the viewpoint of that person．Why, then，did he not simply introduce actual people into his photographs? The reason is that they would not have served as our proxy；our point of view can only be suggested by a disembodied presence.4 It is important both to suggest another viewpoint and to make possible the substitution of our viewpoint．Only then can alternation take place．Only then is the person viewing the photograph connected to and projected onto the photographed space．

Le Corbusier converted photographic architecture into cinematic architecture．He achieved this difficult conversion by designing and manipulating objects-his only recourse, given the era in which he lived．His continuing dependence on objects is what makes his works heavy and stiff：they draw US in，but oppress us．How can we free ourselves of this dependence? Let us first re-examine the relationship between the subject and the environment．

The moment the peaceful and seamless connection between the subject and the environment was severed，media arose to reconnect the two．Architecture emerged for the same reason．The media and the architecture of any given era are products of the same environment and responses to the same disconnection, so they cannot help but take similar forms．In copying each other, they amplify each other．In this Way their similarity is further reinforced．

Subject and environment were first reconnected by a medium of points，namely perspective．Perspective is the connection of point to point-the fixed point of the observing subject and the fixed point, selected from an infinitely continuous environment, of the thing observed. Photography is an extension of perspective．Two points are connected by the medium of a third point called the shutter．In opening the shutter, the photographer selects a perceptual point, that is, an instant out of an infinitely continuous extension called time．

The exterior of a building is readily perceptible as a point, independent and isolated，in the environment．This made it ideally suited to perspective．Architecture was also a favourite subject matter of photography．The medium was in accord with the subject matter，point in accord with point．A line is an expansion of a point．A linear architecture is a series of experiences that emerge the moment we perceive architecture as an interior．Moving images are similarly linear．They are the spatial，temporal and perceptual expansion of the media of points．Movement expands a point into a line．However, moving images have a fatal flaw：they are unilateral．Movement and expansion are the prerogative of the director．Only the space, time and perception of the privileged person called the director expand；only the director is free．The audience is bound to a fixed position in front of the screen and has to accept what is presented-it cannot intervene with respect to time or space．

The interior, as a linear space, is similarly a restricted enclosure．Only the privileged person called the architect understands all the arrangements of rooms and the interior as a whole．Freedom to move and manipulate space and time is the prerogative of the architect and the user experiences only a restricted space and time．

Freedom，but only unilateral freedom—that is the paradox of the relations embodied by both films and interior spaces．However, the problem is not so much the paradox itself, as the fact that the one-sided nature of the relationship has been so cleverly concealed by camerawork in films or by the circulation plan．Both work on the principle of alternation．In the case of film，it is the alternation of the viewpoint of the protagonist with the viewpoint of those who regard the protagonist．In the case of interiors, it is the alternation of the privileged overall viewpoint with the viewpoint of the protagonist who cannot help but be enclosed in some spatial unit．The classical architect invoked that alternation by arranging a large space of great height at the centre of the building，where the protagonist acquired a privileged viewpoint that enabled him to understand the building as a whole．Le Corbusier conceived a more compact and contemporary version of that device．By means of a circulation device such as stairs or a ramp, he had the subject connect with the building as a whole．

The invention of these cinematic and spatial devices enabled an essentially passive observer to identify with the privileged subject．In reality, an interactive relationship between the passive observer and the space was not possible．Nevertheless, the observer mistook the prearranged alternation of viewpoints for a subjective and spontaneous intervention in space．In film，that illusion is called empathy．In interior spaces, the passive observer comes to understand the space in its entirety, thanks to the central circulation space，and falls under the illusion that he is in control．

The illusion ingeniously conceals the one-sided nature of the relationship．That is not all that is concealed．The passive observer also comes to believe that the limited spatial and temporal enclosure is the totality of the environment．He thinks that he is closely and surely connected to the environment，because its closed nature is concealed．Such illusions governed the twentieth century．

The spatial form called the theme park is the most successful example of such concealments．The perimeter wall of the theme park is carefully hidden，lest visitors see it and awaken from their dream．In order to work its magic，it directs their gaze inwards，towards the centre，where there are spaces of a grand scale and form (such as wide boulevards offering vistas)．Visitors are intoxicated by the privileged position they are allowed to occupy．They fall under the illusion that they are completely connected to-even that they dominate-the environment．The theme park may be an enormous complex encompassing outdoor spaces, but it is nonetheless based on the principles of film and interior spaces：indeed it is the most fully developed form of spatial device of the cinematic type．

The aim ought to be，not to prolong the life of enclosures through cinematic alternation，but rather to dissolve them through particlisation．This is not a matter of making their boundaries transparent or translucent：changing the design or capacity of the surface does not change the form of architecture-an object is still an object, an enclosure remains an enclosure．

This is true even if the surface of an object is particlised．The particlisation of the surface relativises the external appearance of architecture：the exterior becomes capable of changing in diverse ways，depending on the relationship between the subject and the thing under observation．However, an object remains an object in form even if its surface becomes interactive．The interaction that is enabled is prearranged interaction, no more spontaneous than the prearranged alternation between subject and environment in film．

It is not the surface but the form that has to be particlised：the point is not to prearrange interaction, but instead to make the arrangements themselves interactive．Rejecting objects and enclosures brings us to gardens，which are far more open than architecture．Despite this，garden designers often try to close them off．They attempt to construct unique, self-contained worlds because they are individuals who persist in unilateral behaviour, namely self-expression．In doing so, they produce gardens that are enclosures，no different from theme parks．Moreover，no matter how freely gardens may be arranged，they will still have paths that are determined by their designers．Interaction is still prearranged，and designers still exercise control over people．

If we are to achieve more open spaces，we must aim for a wilderness rather than a garden．Unless designers themselves become more open, however，we will not be able to produce such a condition．We need to abandon the idea of self-expression．Instead of stepping forward，designers need to remain completely open to visitors' needs．Only then will we have a space without boundaries and paths．The space may consist only of an unprocessed cluster of particles-scattered rubble and grass-none the less，countless places will emerge and a network of relationships will develop the moment someone steps foot inside．

Such a condition is called a network society and is similar to a non-hierarchical horizontal network．There are no boundaries or enclosures，no prearrangements or fixed paths, but each subject is surely connected to the world．We have gone from point (perspective，photography and architecture) to line (moving images, interior spaces and enclosures)and now we are about to embark on nets (networks and wildernesses)．However, the form called architecture still survives and，as an object，disrupts the network．

The shrine structures at Ise are set on ground that is covered entirely with white pebbles representing a wilderness．The shrines are ritually reconstructed every twenty years，suggesting that the ground below is far more important than the structures built on top．The fact that the ground is covered with pebbles that have not been worked in any way is significant．The size of these stone particles is also significant．If the pebbles were any smaller, they would no longer be perceived as particles but would instead appear to form a single，heavy mass．The ground would become matter that permits no intervention-absolute，unilateral matter．If, on the other hand，they were any larger, they would become conspicuous objects，as assertive as brushstrokes in a painting．They would become, not a material awaiting intervention, but something already complete, forestalling any intervention．Their dimensions of course are not absolute；they must be determined in each case by the surrounding environment．For example, in the sequence of spaces at Ise Shrine, the subject arrives at the pebbles after experiencing things of various dimensions．from trees to man-made structures．The entire sequential process determines the dimensions of the Pebbles．There is no guarantee that those pebbles will function as particles if taken to another place．The pebbles become particles-pure, unadulterated material．anticipatory, open and thoroughly relative-only as the result of a quite prosaic operation．The first thing for us to determine should not be form or colour, but rather suitable dimensions．We can arrive at particles only in this way．

This applies to cities as well as to architecture．Modern city planning has been an attempt to regulate cities using two means，objects and enclosures．Planners used objects in the still-image phase of media development and enclosures in the moving-image stage．In the former, baroque city planning is a typical example of control exercised through objects；that is，regulation through the use of monumental，object-type buildings at focal points of the city．In the latter phase，theme parks are an example of control exercised through enclosures．The division of commercial districts and residential districts and the twentieth-century city planning method called zoning are also examples of the use of enclosures to exert control.

However, the accelerating speed of life in cities has rendered objects and enclosures ineffective．Baroque cities，conceived as still images, cannot keep pace．Methods based on moving images have become ineffective as well．Although from a bird's-eye view the city may appear to be nothing more than an absolutely random collection of particles，people and information within the city are constantly connecting and separating at high speeds．

We need a ‘particle-based urban theory' to respond to this．A city in which there is a convenience store every hundred metres anticipates the emergence of a city separated into particles．To induce free and random movement of people and particles，we need city planning that is based on the planning of particles，and not on control by means of objects and enclosures．

In determining the size and ‘hardness’ of particles, the various speeds that operate in cities must be taken into account．According to Deleuze，there is no such thing as absolute hardness．Hardness is an expression of the compressive force acting on a material．A wave in the ocean can be as hard as a wall of marble，depending on the speed of a ship．Much the same can be said of particles．The viscosity, hardness and density of particles are expressions of the speed and forces acting on them．The subject must be free to roam．We will be connected to the environment called the wilderness only if we are allowed to wander．

To wander is to trace the contours of particles and lend our ears to the sounds they make．We must scan the distance between particles，not by eye, but with our bodies moving in time．Only then are sounds born．Everything possessing a frequency is subordinate to time, and generates sounds and colours only when its contours have been traced in time．If we want to design a wilderness we must design space as if we were composing music；we must cast ourselves in time and extract sounds from the particles of the wilderness．

The theme of the 'Stone Museum' is particlising stone so that it can be used to generate sounds．The museum is in Ashino, Nasu-chō, Tochigi Prefecture, a village once visited by the famous poet Matsuo Bashō (1644—1694)．The site contained three crumbling storehouses for rice, made of local Ashino stone, a plain，grey andesite．Constructed in the early Shōwa era(1925—1988)，they were architecturally undistinguished，but I felt they ought to be preserved．I proposed that the overall environment be reorganised by means of a few additions to these structures．

Instead of being closed and self-contained，I wanted the additions to be open and vulnerable, more like fences than buildings．My aim was to create several lavers between the preexisting objects so that a free, ambiguous field-a wilderness-would gradually emerge．I felt this field ought to be, not just spatially open, but open to activities and ambiguous in character．Besides an art museum，this facility contains a shop selling local produce, a restaurant, a local community centre and a children's play area．Activities take place not just inside the building but also in the strip of land between it and the adjacent old highway．Additions to this type of traditional architecture are often made of glass，but I felt that glass, by its transparency, would provide too sharp a contrast to the stone storehouses and make them too conspicuous．However, a wall of Ashino stone similar to the walls of the preexisting storehouses would be neither vulnerable nor ambiguous．I decided to use the same stone but to particlise it; that is，to create a fence of stone．In this way, I hoped to make the silhouette of the stone storehouses ambiguous, causing them to melt into the surrounding air．

Particlising stone is by no means an easy task，as it is a heavy and friable material．Moreover, the traditional technique of masonry construction involves cutting the stone into units and then laying those units one by one to create a thick, heavy wall．Masonry construction is the basis for Western classical architecture and the technology that made it possible，or, in other words，the technology at the heart of object-type architecture．That is why I wanted to take up the challenge of masonry construction-to see if I could dissolve the object that is so often a product of that technology．

I began with an extremely simple experiment，extracting stones one by one from a wall of masonry construction．The wall seemed lighter and weaker after only a few stones had been taken away．Having started as a single，coherent mass，it now acquired the appearance of a collection of particles．It wavered between being and representation，between its essential heaviness and its apparent lightness，between its opaque attribute and its actual transparency．The process by which such a dual condition is produced is what I mean by the relativisation of matter．At such times，matter oscillates；it almost seems to generate sounds．We can create various tones by the way we extract stones from the wall；in this regard, designing a structure approaches the composing of music．

I searched for a detail that would convert stone into an even lighter and more insubstantial presence．I found a way of cutting it into slices that were nearly as thin as the slats of wooden louvres．The thinnest possible cross section was 40 millimeters by 150 millimeters．We attached stone slices of this dimension to stone columns in which grooves 40 millimeters wide had been carved．This was obviously a major departure from conventional methods of stone construction．The stone slices were set at 80-millimetre intervals．Since the stones themselves were 40 millimeters thick，the gaps between them were also 40 millimeters．Matter and aperture of the same dimension alternated， generating an oscillation between matter and empty air, reality and fiction，opacity and transparency．The oscillation depended on the position of the subject relative to this ambiguous wall，and the direction of light．The wall did not oscillate independently of the subject；the subject's body and the wall resonated with each other．

By its very nature，stone is under enormous Cohesive force．To release stone from that force and particlise it is difficult．In that sense, bamboo is the opposite of stone—it is particlised from the start．Aggregating or bundling together bamboo is as difficult as particlising stone．It is not only its round cross section that makes it resistant to bundling，but also its extremely lustrous surface and hollow interior．Using bamboo in a form such as architecture, which demands aggregation，is difficult, so it has more often been used in dispersed forms such as fences．Wood，on the other hand，is halfway between stone and bamboo；it is both easily particlised and easily aggregated，which has made it the most popular building material in both East and West．

The cohesive force of stone was central to western architecture, which used it to create powerful objects that could express and unite the organisations and communities represented by the objects．Modernism ostensibly began as the antithesis of that western architectural tradition, that is, as the antithesis of cohesive force and as a movement to dissolve objects into particles．However, the cohesive force of concrete ultimately conquered modernism；particles were defeated．Ironically, Le Corbusier, the most adept user of concrete，then became the hero of modernism．

After Le Corbusier achieved success with the Vilia Savoye, Bruno Taut arrived in Japan，having been practically chased out of his homeland．Visiting Katsura Detached Palace on the day after his arrival，he was stunned by the sight of a bamboo fence even before he had seen the villa itself．He described himself at that moment．'I just stood there silently．Finally I said，“This is truly modern”’.5

For the rest of his stay in Japan Taut used bamboo with great enthusiasm in both architecture and furniture．The walls of the large room in the Hyoga Residence were lined with slender bamboo, arranged vertically．The two or three hundred small lightbulbs on the ceiling of the social room are each hung from a bamboo chain，and the chains in turn are suspended from bamboo poles．In just three years, Taut learned practically all there is to know about the properties of the eloquent material of bamboo．He discovered in its particlised nature the very essence of modernity．

When I was invited to participate in a project called Simple Garden in Les Landes on the western coast of France, the first thing that went through my mind was the way Taut's encounter with bamboo had provided him with an entirely new approach to design．We Japanese are so familiar with bamboo that we are insensitive to its power and technique．I thought that perhaps on French soil it would suggest new techniques and new worlds to those who encountered it，as it once did to Taut．

Simple Garden is part of a project directed by the French artist Gerard Boidin．Its aim is to allow children from all over the world to stay for a year in a ‘house’ in the pine forest of Les Landes and experience a life at one with nature．What we normally call a house is a cohesive human dwelling that excludes outsiders．Simple Garden is no ordinary house, but a place that attempts to establish human relationships that are open，temporary and nomadic．I felt that the container for those relationships ought to be equally open and ambiguous．The outer membrane of the structure consists of bamboo arranged in a dispersed way, as particles．A breathing fabric of natural fibre is stretched over the bamb00．Inside this space is installed a second membrane, which helps to control the temperature and humidity．Two layers of air are formed．one closer to the outside air than the other．The structure exercises a gradual and ambiguous control over not only temperature and humidity but also vision and movement．
A series of spaces that is neither outside nor inside, neither architecture nor garden, extends through the pinewoods of France．

This structure of bamboo and membranes can be dismantled and moved．The site changes-in summer it is near the seashore，in autumn it moves to the woods inland．It may be in France one yea, Japan the next．The structure can be freely changed in response to the configuration of the site．There are no limits to its location or form：the particles repeatedly gather and disperse．In this case the bamboo always remains a material，1ust as the pebbles at Ise always remain a material．The children who use the spaces are particles as well, repeatedly gathering and dispersing．

Architecture is another name for the aggregation of matter (i.e. the creation of an object), and ‘particlisation’ is the reversal of that aggregation．The German philosopher and mathematician Gottfried Leibniz (1646—1716) effected this reversal in philosophy long ago, to counter the Cartesian deftnition of matter as an absolute mass (aggregation) that was independent of the mind．Critical of such a mass，Leibniz proposed that the universe was formed of individual particles called monads，which were distinguished by an irreducible simplicity．He believed that every experience was the outcome of the unstable combination or oscillation of these monads，which were continually changing. Leiblniz criticised all attempts to create a stable, fixed aggregation，declaring ‘the monad has no window'；neither substance nor accident could come in from outside．

In the same spirit, we must continue to reject windows．We must continue to shun the stability, unity and aggregation known as the object．




NOTES
1. John Summerson，Heavenly Mansions and Other Essays on Architecture (London: Cresset Press, 1949)
2. Gropius was director of the Bauhaus from l919 to l928.
3. In Privacy and PubLlcity Colomina points out that all those pieces of furniture and belongings suggest the Presence of Someone other than the resident and presents an interesting theory that Le Corbusier introduced the viewpoint of a detective or voyeur. See the photograph of the terrace of the Villa Savoye Chairs are more important props than tables because they suggest human presence. Here, the chairs have been deliberately arranged at an odd distanee from the table in order to serve as proxy for our viewpoint (P. 23，Le Corbusier and Pierre Jeanneret，Oeuvre complete l929-1934 (Editions d'Architecture, Zurich，1934).
4. See the photograph of the vestibule of the Villa Savoye. Here too props have been arranged in odd ways A table has been forcibly wrapped around a column，and a hat and coat are placed on the table，drawing us into the scene (Oeuvre complete l929—1934．P. 26)
5. Taut，Nihonbi no saihakken.