How to Cite: Delgado Orusco, Eduardo and Juan Manuel Medina. "Off the Radar". Dearq no. 37 (2023): 80-86. DOI: https://doi.org/10.18389/dearq37.2023.08
How to Cite: Delgado Orusco, Eduardo and Juan Manuel Medina. "Off the Radar". Dearq no. 37 (2023): 80-86. DOI: https://doi.org/10.18389/dearq37.2023.08
Eduardo Delgado Orusco
Escuela de Ingeniería y Arquitectura.
Universidad de Zaragoza, Spain
Juan Manuel Medina
Escuela Técnica Superior de Edificación,
Universidad Politécnica de Madrid, Spain
Contrary to popular belief, the outskirts are not where the world ends—they are precisely where it begins to unfurl.
Joseph Brodsky, On Derek Walcott
As guest editors, when we contemplated the theme for this upcoming issue of Dearq magazine, we immediately engaged in a profound dialogue —an ongoing exchange that had persisted for many years. Each of us delved into our obsessions and deep interests concerning architecture and its associated knowledge. What became clear during these discussions was our shared conviction in transcending the present state of the discipline. We recognised a certain complacency —perhaps the most resounding mediocrity— stemming from the mindless and rigid adherence to outdated postulates of a yawning and antiquated modernity. Our dialectical encounters led us to re-evaluate principles whose outcomes failed to satisfy us. It seemed as if the status quo in architecture had overflowed and permeated not only other disciplines but also the essence of the human experience at the beginning of the twenty-first century— which it now no longer the "beginning". To overcome this dissatisfaction, we knew we had to venture beyond the confines of our usual work. We embarked on a journey through uncharted territories to step out of our comfort zones and explore untracked lands, untouched by our culture. Thus, the sole condition of this expedition was to transcend the limit(s) of the known. Looking beyond the radar.
We acknowledged that this approach —this mindset— was not foreign to either of us; we were both interested in venturing beyond convention. With different approaches, each of us had searched for the margins, surpassing conventional boundaries on numerous occasions. This spirit of exploration permeated not only our professional careers but also our roles as educators and researchers, embodying the unity of life itself. "Architectural practice, what architects call projecting [...] all this is, it must be, genuine research work. In the same way, the transmission [of knowledge] through project teaching. This also must be true research work" (translated from Campo Baeza 2017, 13). This should be a fundamental aspect of any academic who has not renounced a primary vocation as an architect. We teach to learn. As the teacher Alejandro de la Sota mentioned, we teach what we do not know:
I would venture to say that teaching well involves teaching what we do not know, or rather, more than we [currently] know.
For me, teaching is about creating small openings into the vast unknown of science, literature, or the arts, and asking, "Do you see that?" We may not know what it is, but with effort and love, we can discover it. I take the hand of the learner and embark on that unfamiliar path. Teaching only what we already know is limited and outdated; our knowledge can be quickly transmitted, and those who learn through intuition grasp it immediately. By guiding others on a path that, once again, we do not fully comprehend, we ignite curiosity and fuel the pursuit of knowledge in the sciences and the arts. We must not obstruct these fields. By closing those gaps to the unknown world and teaching only what we know, we would negate those who are just beginning [their journey] (translated from de la Sota 1956).
We stand side by side, shoulder to shoulder, alongside our classmates —our students, who possess an enviable youth, treating them as equals— to uncover what lies beyond the familiar, pushing past our limits. This same approach extends to our projects and clients —not only the immediate clients but, most importantly, the future users, particularly in the case of public projects— as well as the shelves of libraries and research topics [that we explore].
The attitude of the architect/researcher/teacher, who is actively involved in the field, classrooms, and libraries, mirrors that of a hunter. This hunter diligently observes the elusive prey that are the opportunities presented by projects, students, and various advancements that lead to further research. The aim is to cultivate the essential tension required to identify and seize opportunities for learning and improvement, all in service to society —both at the individual and collective levels. Taking this attitude to the next level requires a type of practice akin to gymnastics. This involves maintaining a state of readiness, equipping oneself with the necessary tools for each new endeavour, and honing the skills required to employ them effectively.
When we speak of limits, we delve into the concept of thresholds, movements, access, transitions, and even transformations or changes in states. On the other side of a definite line, clear and sharp, separating two worlds, two universes —the known and the unknown. To approach this edge, this boundary, and to dare to cross it requires a resolute decision. It demands the courage to leave behind the familiar, the well-trodden path, and the safety of the mainland. It needs the will to leap into uncertainty, with no assurance of a safety net or a smooth landing. It is a determination to embark on a journey that may be brief but signifies profound change, distance, and perhaps irreversibility.
The idea of travel is easy to grasp and linked to the concept of limits. It is therefore not surprising that when Craig Dykers, the founder and initial visionary behind Snøhetta —the Norwegian architecture firm renowned for projects like the new Bibliotheca Alexandrina— sought to elucidate his work, he employed an analogy akin to our perspective. In an issue of the Architectural Design magazine, edited by Brian Carter and Annette LeCuyer, Dykers employed the figure of Ferdinand Magellan and aptly titled his piece "Edgelessness" (2003, 9-12).
Indeed, the Portuguese explorer of the sixteenth century [Ferdinand Magellan], whose ambitious undertaking of circumnavigating the Earth was ultimately completed by Juan Sebastián Elcano, can be seen as embodying the ideals that resonate with our interests. Magellan, born in the late fifteenth century in northern Portugal, hailed from a noble lineage. With his privileged background, he could have chosen a comfortable and secure path, perhaps even remaining close to the royal court. However, Magellan, influenced by the seafaring tradition of his geographically narrow country, which extended into the vast Atlantic and beyond, made the daring decision to forsake his distinguished origins, what we might refer to today as his comfort zone, in favour of adventure. He set out to discover the elusive "route of the spices," which ultimately led to the indirect accomplishment of circumnavigating the globe.
The tragic end that awaited Magellan in the Philippine Islands, halfway through his journey, only further solidifies the epic nature associated with his project. To this day, the natural navigable channel connecting the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans at the southern tip of the American continent bears his name —the Strait of Magellan— serving as a testament to his willingness to push beyond limits, to explore the unknown, and to venture far from his birthplace. Furthermore, as history reveals, Magellan's feat was a sine qua non condition for his expedition companion, Juan Sebastián Elcano, to carry on and complete the journey. Elcano arrived in the Iberian Peninsula aboard the sole surviving galleon after nearly three years of navigation —from September 20, 1519, to September 7, 1522— covering a staggering distance of 62,880 kilometres.
The duality of outside and inside, which is implicit in the expression we have chosen as the theme for this issue of Dearq magazine, "off the radar," implies the existence of a boundary, a line that divides two distinct realities. Undoubtedly, this notion of a limit is present in various forms, as we have already highlighted, in our individual research endeavours and the collective knowledge compiled within this volume.
The simplest approach to this reality of limit is perhaps the one that separates the conventional from that which precisely overflows its reality, its contour. It is that territory, beyond the edge, in which in one way or another the commonly admitted is surpassed, what offers no doubt, the self-satisfied.
In architecture, this notion of limit can be explored across various scales and approaches. It encompasses reflections and ideas related to alternative cities, and novel ways of grouping, ordering, or living. In a way, the history of humanity, intertwined with its built environment, can be seen as the history of overcoming its limits. Moreover, the invention and progress in construction techniques, the advancements that enable new modes of building, have significantly shaped the profound evolution of architecture, surpassing superficial classifications such as styles. The freedom afforded to the thought process of architectural design —its program, organisational principles, foundational concepts, and more— has led to the conquest of new paradigms in architecture. Even advances in architectural representation or the overcoming of established and recognised limits could, in fact, be confused with new architectures.
In the previous paragraph, we explored how the progress we wish to discuss can be connected to the fields of knowledge and specialised teaching within architecture education, such as urbanism, construction, architectural design, composition, and graphic expression. However, their interplay moves on a deeper plane where the interferences between these areas occur naturally.
We acknowledge our profound interest in anything that, through any of the aforementioned means, aspires to surpass limits and, therefore, emerges, even if only fleetingly, "off the radar."
These are the articles we have received and selected for the "Research" section, featuring our "masterful" guest, architect and professor Salvador Pérez Arroyo. Alongside his contributions, we present the chosen projects and introduce the proposal of photographer and professor Iñaki Bergera, who illustrates the "Creation" section. Together, these elements form a cartography of the evolving landscape within the architectural profession, each offering a unique perspective and a commitment to transcending the current architecture paradigm. From the environmental to the disciplinary realm, [this project] acknowledges the entropic processes that impact abandoned buildings and ruins, revealing them as true authors of architecture. It echoes "Architecture without architects," as quoted from Bernard Rudofsky, one of Iñaki Bergera's cherished authors.
Various forms of abandonment extend beyond the conventional boundaries surveyed by the radar. One such form entails venturing beyond the comfort zone, reminiscent of the geographical expeditions undertaken by explorers like Magellan. This dimension brings us closer to the realms of travel, cartography, and discovery, even conquest, in its most noble sense. However, the value lies not in external or material conquest that yields economic or other transactional gains. Rather, it resides in the internal conquest, the construction of personal realities and cultural perspectives that enrich the collective and ultimately enrich us all. It is only through some form of decentralisation that true creativity becomes possible. It arises from the detachment from familiar surroundings and the self-awareness that often stems from one's place of birth or early experiences. We advocate for travel, for estrangement, as a means of conquest. In this issue of the magazine, Salvador Pérez Arroyo explores the concept of "forasterity," drawing upon the origin of one of his surnames, "Albarrán."
In fact, this practice almost always guarantees the desired enrichment, precisely because it disrupts the alignment between the [observer's] perspective and the object of observation. When an individual, shaped by their background or still in the process of formation, ventures beyond their point of origin or what we refer to as their comfort zone, a process of surprise unfolds. It involves becoming captivated by a different reality, leading to the eventual fascination and observation of the unfamiliar, which weaves together two perspectives and two directions. It is the only way to truly connect and intertwine. It entails looking through strange, foreign eyes, or in other words, recognising the alien or the foreign, particularly in the cultural sense. Consequently, a new construct emerges, a different reception that is almost always richer than when one observes the local with local eyes.
This vector often appears sterile. Think of logbooks, travel books, drawing albums, or photographs from travellers on the Grand Tour or other fruitful journeys driven by the sole condition of estrangement. Even the sketchbooks of naturalists or scientists, who attempt to represent observed reality without any artistic ambition, often surpass in beauty any meticulously curated painting catalogue or sketchbook with artistic pretensions. Even the new forms of representing the universe or other realities —where the micro and macro scales intertwine— are created through digital means or by assigning colour vectors or other systems to objects or processes beyond the visible spectrum. The tentative nature of these representations fascinates us and draws us into new realities, fertile images of other universes. Here, we could relate it to Jorge Luis Borges' imagined libraries arising from the random combination of all the characters of the alphabet, where we yearn to discover hidden meanings within seemingly meaningless arrangements.
The editors of this volume identify ourselves as expatriates, each in our own way and for a certain period, and it is from this condition that we propose this collection and exploration. In both cases, it has been a crisis —whether economic, personal, or cultural— that has pushed us away from our comfort zone. Whether it involves moving between continents, which is perhaps the most traumatic but also the most fruitful, or being in a constant state of travel when work and research take us hundreds of kilometres away from home, the sense of being an outsider, a stranger, is established. There is a certain inner imbalance stemming from the awareness that we are stepping onto someone else's territory, perhaps infringing on the rights and opportunities of others. At this point, we acknowledge ourselves as migrants, embracing the uncertainties and opportunities presented by this condition, as outlined earlier. We can also be seen as visitors, even tourists. In any case, this condition sharpens our perception, similar to that of a hunter who senses the insecurity of a potential encounter and slows down their internal clock, heightening the tension of the present moment. In this circumstance, it becomes easier to spot new and different things, distinct from what the familiar eye is accustomed to in its surroundings, free from such tension. It allows for the development of alternative narratives, albeit provisional ones, that enable us to interpret what we know. Sometimes these explanations are partial, subject to the acquisition of new data or the understanding and comprehension of the variables at hand.
Let us consider the challenges presented by languages, which can be seen as parallel universes, conceptual microcosms that extend beyond mere practical communication. These partial discourses —though sometimes misguided or in need of refinement— are always fertile. An intriguing example of this is the fantastical interpretation of Egyptian hieroglyphics proposed by the German Jesuit Athanasius Kircher in the seventeenth century. Kircher managed to construct a coherent yet completely false system of translation for the intricate drawings. We are fascinated by the ability to construct an entire language —a system or a universe— different from reality. The vision of an alternative body of knowledge. In this context, Pérez Arroyo mentions regarding some of his work: "It was about initiating the discourse of restoration and leaving it unfinished, suggesting other interpretations" (excerpt translated from the text "Ruins" in this issue).
While the discovery of the Rosetta Stone (named after the Nile Delta where it was found) by Jean-François Champollion, a century and a half later, is undoubtedly more significant, it seems less meritorious. The massive stone —housed, of course, in the British Museum in London— bears inscriptions on one of its sides in three languages: Greek, demotic (a cursive form of Egyptian derived from hieratic), and hieroglyphics. It contains a decree promulgated by Ptolemy V in 196 BC. We marvel at both of these characters for their ability to be "off the radar." Kircher's consistent —and yet misguided— proposal and Champollion's sense of exploration and his understanding of what lay before him. It cannot be ignored that without the French explorer's discovery, Egyptian culture would have remained largely unknown to us. However, what is even more intriguing is the idea that this culture might have flourished in front of our eyes, according to Kircher's interpretation, about 150 years ago.
Therefore, in the call for articles for this issue, we sought to explore architectures and interventions that lie "off the radar;" works whose epicentre falls outside, so to speak, the convention and the self-satisfied profession.
The aim is to identify areas of focus or concern in emerging realms of architecture, such as climate change. Our intention is not to take a stance on the severity or pace of this issue, but it is undeniable that processes of environmental desertification and the melting of bodies of water are occurring, reaching unimaginable levels. Catastrophic climate-related events, including floods, extreme storms, and tidal waves, are also on the rise. Architecture must therefore generate tailored responses to these extreme circumstances and their underlying causes. While many of these processes are not new, a deeper understanding of them highlights the importance of new approaches that leverage technological advancements and embrace a heightened sensitivity, where the acceptance of irreplaceable human and material losses is neither acceptable nor appropriate.
In this regard, we are also intrigued by the architectural concepts being put forth for the potential colonisation of space, viewed as an extension of the aforementioned considerations. It involves reimagining the enduring conditions that have shaped human existence throughout history, such as the unyielding force of gravity and the natural cycles (day and night, summer and winter, autumn and spring), as well as the proximity to the sun and moon influencing distinct climatic reactions that have been known throughout history.
Another area of research and fascination for us lies in social sustainability, related to explorations that delve into the capacity of architecture to foster transformative change beyond the physical realm, with implications for societies, economies, and livelihoods. This entails inventing programs that go beyond the familiar and propose new strategies for addressing emergencies. It involves understanding the programming of cities, urban centres, public and private facilities, transportation systems, management practices, and even residential units or communities that surpass conventional norms and pave the way for new avenues of disciplinary exploration. Some of these innovative approaches are already being studied within university classrooms and other research institutions. We are also keen on mapping these initiatives, much like the mapping of other educational practices, such as radical pedagogies, as documented by Beatriz Colomina, Ignacio G. Galán, Evangelos Kotsioris, and Anna-María Meister from Princeton University.
Finally, we found numerous other subjects from the early twenty-first century that captivate our interest, and one could argue that they are interconnected with those previously mentioned. They are rooted in a common pursuit of restoring social justice or its various manifestations, along with a deepened awareness of its underlying causes. A prime example of this would be the exploration of avenues to reclaim the role of women in the architectural profession and society as a whole. Rather than seeking an unrealistic and unjust egalitarianism, we strive to identify and acknowledge the distinct and irreplaceable contributions —and, therefore, fundamentally essential— made by women to architecture and culture in general.
It is evident that these seemingly disparate experiences converge in a shared mindset. In the pursuit of the extraordinary, the exploration of the unknown, and the transcendence of conventional boundaries in the quest for a better society.
However, in this issue, we have chosen to omit certain specific scenarios, recognising that not all of them can be accommodated within the limited scope of this volume. Many of these scenarios are already being studied in detail, and our focus is not so much on the specific results they yield, but rather on the attitudes that enable us to engage with them.
This exploration seeks, in essence, to redefine the boundaries of architecture: a debate on the disciplinary constants and those other elements that are being questioned, ultimately reshaping the perspective of professionals and, by extension, society as a whole.
In light of a complacent and self-assured approach to the profession, we intend to gather texts and reflections —which could be case studies— that exhibit a greater sensitivity towards the reality in which we operate. These are understood as part of a larger operation, encompassing social, environmental, and other areas previously considered secondary. We aim to explore discourses on social architectures, environmental architectures, and transformative architectures that push the boundaries, challenging the central role of the architect as a conductor and positioning them as one piece among many in the multidimensional changes that define our era, extending beyond the disciplinary sphere.
All these explorations ultimately aim to create cartography beyond the radar. However, it has been the case in previous attempts to represent unfamiliar territories through adventurous and often foreign journeys, their relationship with what is already known remains uncertain. Uncertainty prevails in scale, density, and knowledge. Because they are not verified, their accuracy, definitive significance, and importance over time are yet to be determined. Nevertheless, we have emphasised that our primary interest lies not so much in the conquered territory itself but in the attitude of the conqueror —the bravery of their endeavour rather than its profitability; the professional approach over the mere success of their project. In this territory, often right at the edge of the known, like a seemingly minute conquest, we have surpassed the boundaries, making progress on the frontiers of the unexplored beyond.
For all the above, we are aware that this volume will likely become obsolete compared to others in the future. It is possibly destined to fail or, rather, be forgotten. If the targeted conquests indeed capture the attention, they will be highlighted by the radar. If not, they will fade away and somehow be lost. However, we are interested in its value today. Its capacity as a calling instrument, an announcement of what is to come. Or even as a final record before fading into obscurity. That alone would be enough for us to have achieved our objective. A glimpse of this idea is represented in the collaboration with photographer Iñaki Bergera, who captures moments in a narrow window of time. If he had captured them earlier, we would witness a shining, brilliant work with a promising future. If he had captured them later —after a few more years— the traces of human influence would be less recognisable, almost imperceptible to the naked eye, requiring the aid of archaeological methods. Our observations exist within a relatively narrow margin.
We fervently hope that topics related to climate change, environmental recovery, driving forces (projects, situations, etc.), and all forms of social awareness become objectives and new focal points in the architectural roadmap. Consequently, we envision this volume of Dearq as a precursor document that may only be of interest to bibliographic specialists, precisely because these subjects will become regular topics in future publications and professional's boards —or screens. The edges that currently exist as peripheries may become the new centralities of the future, not geographical but rather conceptual and factual.