We all produce space

In his book "Architecture Depends" Jeremy Till shares the following anecdote about the event that ended up changing his views on architecture by challenging his assumptions about the role architecture plays in the process of the production of space: "I was the bright, youngish thing on the block. Or so I thought. Always at the front of lectures, always the first to put up his hand. I even did it with Rem Koolhaas, in front of 400 others. A question about his ethical ambivalence, which he knocked back hard with withering brilliance. No more questions followed; no one else was prepared to have skin pulled back in public. I should have learnt my lesson, but didn't. This time it was a lecture at the Bartlett in the mid-1990s, just in the period that Lefebvre was beginning to seep into the cracks left in the shiny surfaces. Ed Soja was lecturing on "Thirdspace," his homage to and development of the Lefebvrian triad. At the end my hand went up. "Whilst geographers only speculate and comment on space, architects actually produce it ...," I started. At which, pulling himself up to his not inconsiderable full height, Soja cut in and thundered: "WE ALL PRODUCE SPACE." The phrase we all produce space that Soja used at the end of his lecture to stop Till from completing his question, becomes the focal point for this study. However, rather than defining this study's aim as an explanation of this phrase that lies in its center, it would be much more accurate to define it as an exploration that starts with this phrase and moves forward in order to discover its implications concerning architecture. There is a subtle yet at the same time very important difference between these two approaches. While an explanation generally tries to communicate the result that was reached beforehand as clearly and as efficiently as possible, an exploration focuses on the process that lies behind that explanation, or in other words on the process of obtaining that result. What this means is, as the study progresses from beginning to end, it may arrive at some seemingly counter intuitive or inconsistent results at its different stages of development. It is important to note that this is done intentionally, so that the reader can clearly see the relationships between different moments of the production of space and more importantly, how definitive architecture's contribution will be in each of these moments. The exploration that defines this study first starts with a discussion about the meaning of the phrase we all produce space and its implications concerning architect's role in the production process of space. At the first look, it can be seen clearly that aforementioned phrase derives from Lefebvre's well-known and widely accepted thesis: (social) space is a (social) product. In spite of the fact that after realizing we all produce space does not necessarily say anything different it makes much more sense to disregard it and focus entirely on Lefebvre's thesis, what makes it more important for the present discussion is the context in which it was used. In the context Soja used it, we all produce space refers to the fact that since space can only be defined as a social product and not as an independent material reality or simply a thing in itself, only the society itself as a whole can be held responsible from its production. In other words, we all as a society in one way or another take part in the production of space and as far as this socially produced space is concerned an architect neither was nor can ever become the only producer. Architects' claim that they produce space would require a dangerously simplistic conception of space, which in turn could allow them to manipulate it according to their desires. However acceptable or convincing they may be, all these explanations fail to answer one simple question: Why is it so important to re-examine or rethink the role architects play in the process of the production of space? Would this have any practical impact on how architecture functions or is it just a play on semantics? The answers to these questions bring forward the first of three examples that will be examined in detail throughout this study. Pruitt-Igoe housing project is probably one of the very few projects in the history of architecture, which is remembered by the pictures showing how it died rather than lived. Charles Jencks marked the time and date of the demolition as the death of modern architecture and by doing so provided one of the most memorable contributions along with names like Oscar Newman to what is today known as The Pruitt-Igoe Myth. Here myth refers to the mistaken impression that only architecture was to blame for the failure of the project. However, the fact remains that even though architecture played its part in the decline and demolition of Pruitt-Igoe housing project, it was by no means the only cause. A detailed examination even suggests that not only architecture was not alone, but also its contribution to the decline of the project was minimal especially compared to contribution of the social reality of that era. In other words, myth was born out of the lack of the necessary understanding of space as a social product and over exaggeration of the role that architecture plays in its production process. Even though Pruitt-Igoe clearly demonstrate the need to re-evaluate architects' role in the production process in order to avoid creating further myths, by doing so it also puts architecture in a position where it loses all of its power to affect any kind of change and from where every attempt to escape ends up creating another myth. Then the question here must be is there any other way in which architecture can both be a part of social production process and yet retain its disciplinary identity. The second example examined in this study clearly shows that it is in fact possible to do this. Peter Eisenman's Holocaust Memorial examined together with his idea of blurring clearly provides a possible escape from the aforementioned position. According to Eisenman when architecture tries to blur the existing framework by introducing a certain level of uncertainty to the mixture, it can open up the space to new experiences and thus become an effective part of the production process. Holocaust Memorial stands today as a testament to the potential of Eisenman's approach to architecture: Some people come to walk among the blocks to mourn the dead or to experience a rationality that is pushed to an extreme; others come just to enjoy themselves by jumping over those blocks. The Memorial somehow manages to bring together these scenarios and many more each with its own distinct character. However, does this mean that the extraordinary quality of the Memorial can be explained solely by architecture's contribution to the production process? Third and the final example of this study indicates that although it would be wrong to ignore architecture's contribution, it would be equally wrong to reduce these kind of unexpected results to architecture, especially since similar effects can be observed even without any contribution from architecture. Torre David is no doubt one of the most well-known examples of this in history. People come together, occupied and turned the unfinished office tower into a housing complex which today provides shelter for over 750 families and more importantly did this in the absence of any kind of contribution from architecture. Torre David clearly shows that how important and defining the role played by people in the process of the production of space can become. After all these discussions it is now possible to understand space as an incredibly complex set of relationships, as an unfinished product that is continuously being produced; to see the architects not as the uniquely capable producers but as one of the many equally important producers of space and finally to talk about space within architecture without turning it into a purely architectural product.