038 ON . . . touched by a city, touching a city
and then . . . the brush touches water, paint, and paper
_ _ _ among my four forthcoming “tasks” described in post 037 ON . . . NOW is an essay about (nothing less but) – love!
An unexpected call to write that essay opens with statement how “love is a concept which does not sit comfortably within mainstream architectural discourse, perhaps regarded as too trivial or intangible for serious academic attention”, but also that “this theme however carries considerable potential to reframe issues that have pervaded architectural thought in recent decades and foster deeper connections between practitioners and the people and environments influenced by their work, inviting “contributors to reconsider these relationships and the relevance of love to the discipline of architecture” . . . that opening has sneaked in and started (re)structuring much of what surrounds me these days . . . almost at the same time, while (re)searching some triggers of thought, I’ve stumbled upon an old folder of quotes, notes and reflections on and of Jean-Luc Nancy, Jacques Derrida, his (self-proclaimed) insister Hélène Cixous, and several other thinkers whose thoughts make me think . . . playing with those scatters, as if they were some genuine, precious spolia, made new clusters of meaning emerge, the meanings of which, of course, cannot but coalesce around their/ our/ my inherent, binding themes . . .
[the QUESTION: as they come up frequently, to detour and guide my thoughts should I open a line of posts ON coincidences?]
_ _ _ then, coincidentally (of course), two weeks ago I was also asked to write a fast, brief essay for the catalogue of an exhibition of paintings and drawings to be held in the City Library Marko Marulić, in Split . . . I had no doubts that the words of the artist had to open that brief text:
***** Davisi Boontharm, who long ago told me how she has “fallen in love with the city of Split, at first sight”
(all 300 words making that essay and link to the exhibition are at the end of this post)
_ _ _ love _ _ _ city _ _ _ sight . . . . . . . . . emotion _ _ _ place _ _ _ eyes _ _ _
_ _ _ falling in love . . . a mystery of falling in love, falling in love in general (although such moments are particular). . . falling in love with a city ! . . . with a particular city . . . (true love always is, it has to be total and particular) . . . urbophilia seeks precisely such “falls” . . . finding oneself engulfed, “fallen” in φιλία is what (along with all nuances of ἀγάπη/ agápē, ἔρως/ érōs, φῐλαυτίᾱ/ philautía, στοργή/ storgē, and ξενῐ́ᾱ/ xenía . . . all ancient Greek gods and goddesses of love, ways of loving) urbophilia seeks to (in)orchestrate in(to) urban and architectural, spatial, lived experiences, ending up in lasting, endless (co)production of urbanity
_ _ _ cities . . . what does one actually fall in love with, (t)here? . . . the suggested placing (of love) points at the importance of a particular, concrete locus (in this case, the locus of love) . . . the sight, the breath, inhalation of something in/ of/ at that, particular, unique place . . . the uniqueness of placing and timing . . . of act(ion)
_ _ _ _ _ _ love is always forever, (felt to be) forever (at least – “forever”)
_ _ _ _ _ _ love is always (regardless of what we say) conditional
_ _ _ _ _ _ you are right, even that statement is, it has to be, self-contradictory) . . . as the truth is, love also is inexplicable
_ _ _ we keep on using these grand words as if we know what we are talking about, as if there is only one way of knowing
_ _ _ we have to use such words, as between them new questions (may) arise, many legitimate questions which need to be asked, questions which need to be answered . . . yet those are the questions to which answers might/ could never be found, as they might/ could even not be possible . . . love, after all, can (it ought to) be self-contradictory . . . in order to get (what we call) answers, we might (sometimes, or always) have to reach beyond reason
_ _ _ _ _ _ asking what asking (such) questions means
_ _ _ here we do not only touch complexity (while seeking the urban) . . . thoughts dive deeper, into an all-embracing reality, only catching the glimpses, sounds, smells and tastes of (nothing else but) the totality of being, of being human(e), urban(e) . . . as in J-L.N.’s being singular plural
_ _ _ _ _ _ questions never to be answered need to be asked
_ _ _ the act of asking (of questioning) itself can trigger an avalanche of thoughts, efforts to know, to know deeper, to know differently . . . (new) questions facilitate formulation of better questions, which can/ could/ might take our thoughts and feelings somewhere deeper/ higher/ further . . . somewhere else
_ _ _ but BEWARE, not all is open and fluid there . . . those efforts demand constant (re)definitioning of the way, on the way, they seek a reliable methodos . . . and thus we enter new fields of thought, new contexts which could (re)formulate the texts, (re)generate the values, which can (re)define the action, which might help us – as humanity is at the centre of this all –create, (re)create a better world – which, after all, is the ultimate aim of any true design effort
the QUESTION is: how to enter that heuristic world, how to seek, how to find, how to design, how to proceed along our ὁδός?
***** Davisi Boontharm always says that she has “fallen in love with Split at first sight . . . in 2011”
_ _ _ that sentence holds a potent clue . . . there always is something, something concrete that touches us (all, or only some of us) . . . in 2011, something in the city of Split has touched this artist, in a particular way . . . in that, there is (1) a concrete place (the where, whatever she names “Split”), there is (2) a concrete time (the when, of whatever has happened then) . . . and there is (3) a drama, an (invitation to) action, praxis, the exactitude and momentousness of being – then / there
_ _ _ paradoxically, while the instant, the moment of that touch is one, the places that touch are many (or the other way?) . . . if that seems to defy the logic – yes, it does . . . so what?! . . . we are trying to deal with an ultimate complexity here . . . logic is only one way of thinking, a way to discipline thought . . . while defying discipline love defies logic . . . what matters to us here is the placing/ timing of sensation . . . placing as touching . . . places moments sensations thoughts . . . in that city, in that place, in one of many places which make a particular city, at that time . . . act of touching is spatial . . . touch is spatial . . . as Nancy has typically beautifully, explicitly stated – even a stone touches . . . those words trigger an avalanche (mentioned above) of emotions, in me . . . a torrent of vivid, sensual memories of walking barefooted, as a child, on the imperial-sized marble paves of decumanus in Diocletian palace, Split . . . that overwhelming, truly multisensorial experience, a sense of comfort, an experience of beauty under my feet, by my feet while they were complementing the eyes . . . an awe which has, perhaps, contributed to my love for places and practiced decidedly urban, urbane, and to my later decision to study architecture)
the QUESTION: when emotions touch us, where/ what do they touch us?
_ _ _ instead of trying to answer (my feet have done that long ago), I will digress and detour, to only add how “to be touched” translates well into languages that I could explore, even those eminently untranslatable (themes which, in my research, I cherish most, as presented in The Routledge Handbook of Urban Design Research Methods , and elsewhere) . . . such is Japanese language (of course, as impenetrable to me/ to “us” as much as “our” language[s] are impenetrable to “them”) . . . my intention here is not to explain, but to only add another nuance to foundational theme of urbophilia, to our discussion of complexity
_ _ _ to do that, touching upon the above-mentioned coincidences, below, left is the cover page of Jean-Luc Nancy’s Noli me tangere – do not touch me, translated Japanese language as Watakushi ni fureruna : Nori me tangere . . . below, right is a proper sequence of brush-strokes (quality which is essential, to a connoisseur, for full experience of calligraphic text)
私に触れるな: ノリ・メ・タンゲレ (ポイエーシス)
触れ (fure) touch), 私に触れ (watashi ni fure), 私に触れるな (watashi ni fureru na) . . . (don’t worry gaijin, neither I can get it)
_ _ _ in order to help us, the almighty guguru (ググる, Google, in Japanese) AI says that word“触れる (fureru) has multiple meanings, primarily relating to physical or emotional contact, but also including other senses. The core meaning is to touch or feel something physically, like a hand touching a surface. Beyond that, it can also mean to experience something, to be emotionally moved by something, or to allude to a topic. In some contexts, it can also mean to violate or come into conflict with something, like a law or copyright.”
_ _ _ some unreliable human (it seems) has added how "触れる" is a versatile verb with a range of meanings related to contact, experience, and even transgression.”
_ _ _ my imperfect, human guguru search adds:
触れられること fure rareru koto means to be touched
触 sawa means touch
触れ fure means touch
触る sawaru means any physical contact, physical touch
触れる fureru means a gentle or emotional, even abstract touch
触ふれる sawa fureru means a very light contact
触さわ る sawa sawaru means a relatively firm touch
_ _ _ here, as in any translation, QUESTIONS arise:
how do those variants get read? how do they get understood? do they get understood? . . . (might they be understood better?)
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ architecture, cities, us in them, us about them, us as them . . . are about touch, mediation . . . about touching what eyes (let alone bodies) can/not, should/not (why not?!) touch . . . what we (can/not, should/not) be touched by . . . (whatever that is) across scales . . . urbophilia seeks touchING, sensNG and thinkNG that (might, can, should, fail to) touch us (all?) profoundly
_ _ _ all that is about spacing . . . SPACE . . . that is where architecture, urban design, urbanism explicitly come in (this story) . . . we seek to address, to define, to redefine, to undefine, to touch, to touch with, without and beyond Nancy’s On Touching, Derrida’s on Nancy, On Touching . . . (and other philosophical unavoidables) . . . design touches physically
[and we will, of course, keep on touching the theme of touch(ing) in urbophilia posts to come]
***** Davisi Boontharm, touched by Split, touches (her) Split . . . since 2011
_ _ _ efforts to capture that, that what makes an artist declare (nothing less but) love ! . . . feeling of love for an urbanity, for concrete cityness (for absence of a better word in English language) which takes shape in/ of a particular city, of a place in particular space, in a moment . . . a moment which might take the whole life
_ _ _ languages other than verbal “speak” differently . . . if touching was language-specific, rational, translatable, we would only lose the complexity of communication, the power and beauty of limits, of many impossibilities which define our existence, we would lose our emotional selves . . . for us, urbo+ philia is about physicality, it is materiality, a mater+ reality of the urban
_ _ _ when brush touches water, paint, and paper, visual languages “talk”
[][] Davisi Boontharm, Sketches and paintings of Dalmatia
[][] Gradska knjižnica Marka Marulića Split – City Library Marko Marulić Split, Croatia
[][] from the Catalogue
Davisi Boontharm always says that she has fallen in love with Split at first sight . . . in 2011
true urbanists like her sense urbanity . . . they can feel the very quality which makes cities – cities
both as an artist and an urbanist, Davisi has felt unique urbanity of Split, also finding her own Split there
Split was accepting her gradually, in waves and expanding circles, starting from the family which she has joined . . . Zdenka, Joza, Mladja, Minja, Boris, Siniša, Tina, Ela, Dora, Toma . . . to the neighbours in nearby cafes, shops and, above all, at her first beach here, the modest yet fascinatingly authentic Gusar
that journey from shy, cautious sideway glances, to shy smiles, the nods of acceptance, small talk and immersions helped her discover what felt like her own places, first in Split and then across Dalmatia
in summer 2012 her first exhibition in Split was organised at the third floor of Diocletian’s Kula, staged in her original, performative impromptu format as part of the Split Case Workshop (organised by FAGG Split, Institute for Cultural Heritage, Split, and Keio University, Tokyo) . . . Davisi has exhibited her drawings and paintings in places ranging from tiny Bol to the megalopolis of Tokyo . . . in all of those Split and Dalmatia held a prominent place
Davisi Boontharm’s art explores various techniques and formats . . . her paintings and drawings range from seemingly modest “postcard” watercolours to large formats, and Japanese orihon (accordion-like) books, an ancient yet uncommon form which challenges the notion of size . . . some of those are exhibited here, in for an artist, who is also an international academic and urbanist the right place – in the Library
D.R., 20.06.2025
P.S.
_ _ _ let’s briefly get back in time, to those fateful years 2011/12 . . . in 2011 we have started The Split Case, a collaborative research project between Keio University co+labo.radović, Tokyo and our international and local partners at FGAG Split . . . the workshop included an impromptu performance/ presentation of Davisi’s drawings and paintings of Split, which electrified the participants . . . [when asked why yellow dominates her (then) big formats, the reply was – “to me, Split IS yellow”] . . . by 2012 we have written and (with Kengo Kuma and Ana Grgić) co-edited and published The Split Case book
_ _ _ in my introduction (subtitled An Immoderate Oeuvre), I quoted Perec’s advice to all of us who love and deal with cities not to “be too hasty in trying to find a definition of the town; it’s far too big, and there’s every chance of getting it wrong”, only to expand how (as I keep on boringly, endlessly repeating) “cities get defined in many ways and with various intentions. It is fascinating that all those definitions, as diverse and even as contradictory as they often are , may be — true. Such an improbable situation is possible because the city is, as de Certeau proposed, the most immoderate of human texts (De Certeau, 1984). All good, and all bad that we are capable of intersects local environmental conditions to produce the urban. That immoderate oeuvre.”
_ _ _ “The Split Case was produced with intention to capture and communicate some of the textures that make urban fabric of central Split. The squares and streets of Diocletian’s Palace were opened (to us) as social texts, offering as a rich, Lefebvrian champ sémantique [...]. That wealth comes from an immense intensity, which is the result of compression of everything that is urban into a miniscule territorial unit.” [...] I went on to Orhan Pamuk’s Naïve and the Sentimental Novelist (2010) where [...] “he insists that in a good novel, there is always “a secret center” or, at least, that the text raises expectation that there is something that holds the keys of the whole network of meanings. [...] By Debordian détournement hijacking one part of Pamuk’s paragraphs I hypothesized how a “simple replacing the word ‘novel’ with ‘city’ might help us explain what the city’s center is made of. That would be “simply” everything that makes the city!” Following that dubious, yet appealing and joyful logic, “best cities” would be those where the “center” is elusive . . . in the best of the best we would wish to keep on searching, forever. That is why Paris, as a city of many hearts, was such a fertile territory for Debord and his Situationists. That tiny Palace at the edge of the Adriatic Sea possesses that ... “something” ... too”
***** in 2011, Davisi Boontharm has fallen in love with something in Split at first sight . . .
this is an invitation to that exhibition in Split in 2025 (still open at the time of writing of this urbophilia post), and accessible online at: https://www.core.place/post/skice-i-slike-dalmacije and https://www.instagram.com/davisi.work/