The Architecture of Restraint
Clarifying the vision when it gets muddied.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, the engineer/philosopher turned architect turned philosopher, once said, “The difference between a good and a poor architect is the poor architect succumbs to every temptation and the good one resists it.”
Are we addicted to ‘more’?
In a consumerist society, growth and stability are equated with a “bigger is better” mentality, and more is never enough. Why have one device when you can have two, three or four? Why be engaged with one social media site when you can engage with five, six or seven. Isn’t multi-talented better than singularly gifted? There is simply no incentive to hold back, pause and take a very long, deep breath. John Cage is probably cringing at the state of things. Or more likely, he is laughing hysterically at the nullity of it all. Either way, I have begun to pay attention to the notion of restraint.
It’s a funny thing that when you decide to address an issue, it begins to permeate everything you do; how you live and what you make. Restraint has become the operative word in even the most minute choices I make throughout the day.
In Japanese culture, the word “Shibui” describes this aesthetic of studied restraint. Shibui is the art of knowing when to stop; it is achieved through simplicity balanced with decisive complexity. The August 1960 issue of House Beautiful described Shibui as ,’a profound, unassuming, quiet feeling. It is unobtrusive and unostentatious. It may have hidden attainments, but they are not paraded or displayed. The form is simple and must have been arrived at with an economy of means. Shibui is never complicated or contrived.’
In English, there is no particular word or phrase that fully explains Shibui. It is a state of being. One I seem to be craving. The question I keep asking myself is, how do you make a painting about nothing? Why? Because nothing yields everything. It is the achievement of elemental form and something I aspire to personally.
In architecture, John Pawson,epitomizes simplicity and the beauty of ‘plain space’. Of simplicity he says it is,”when every component, every detail, and every junction has been reduced or condensed to the essentials. It is the result of the omission of the inessentials”.
To remove the inessentials, you first must define what they are. And that is when it can get complicated. Looking at a Pawson structure is like looking into a space of (almost) nothing. There are no extras. Every element has been reduced to its most essential purpose and place. It takes an extraordinary amount of engineering and achievement to construct these plain spaces. Not to mention money. Pawson manufactures and designs his own customized steel girders that form the framework of his simple spaces. Simple is so very hard. A wood frame structure would be easier and quicker to build. But Pawson’s commitment to simplicity is resolute. I wonder, is mine?
And when you have built a space of nothing, what then becomes the function of art? Is it no longer essential? Nietzshe said, “We possess art lest we perish of the truth”. In a pared down life where truth is not blanketed by ‘more’, art is indispensable. And one’s sensibility becomes the architecture that houses it.
The artist, John Zurier says of his work, “I remember the first painting problem that really engaged me. I tried to paint the sky seen between two buildings so that the whole of my painting would be nothing but an empty blue space. I wanted the painting to be filled with a pale empty sky. I thought it would be very easy to do, but found it nearly impossible. The painting was a failure and I had to put it off for a long time.”
Restraint is built upon the culminating experiences of too much and realizing that less is so much more. When the vision gets muddied, take an element away, and then another, until you begin to see. Only then can the building commence.
