Landscript 1: Landscape Vision Motion

ISBN 978-3-86859-210-8

ISBN 978-3-86859-210-8


You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

L a n d s c r i p t is a publication on<br />

landscape aesthetics inviting authors<br />

from different disciplines to invest<br />

some thought on established modes of<br />

perceiving, representing, and conceiving<br />

nature. Steered by an editorial board<br />

comprised of international experts<br />

from various fields of visual studies,<br />

landscape design research, as well as<br />

sociology and philosophy, its goal is<br />

to act as a revelator of conventional<br />

perceptions of landscape and to<br />

cultivate the debate on landscape<br />

aesthetics at a scholarly level. This<br />

discussion platform aims at rekindling<br />

a theoretical debate, in the hope of<br />

fostering a better understanding of the<br />

immanence of landscape architecture<br />

in our culture, focusing critically on<br />

the way we think, look, and act upon<br />

sites and nonsites today.<br />

Professor Christophe Girot, Albert Kirchengast (Chief Editors)<br />

Institute of <strong>Landscape</strong> Architecture ILA, D–A RCH, ETH Zurich

Editori a l Boa rd<br />


Annemarie Bucher, ZHdK Zurich<br />

Elena Cogato Lanza, EPF Lausanne<br />

Stanislaus Fung, UNSW Sydney<br />

Dorothée Imbert, Washington University in St. Louis<br />

Sébastien Marot, Ecole d’Architecture Marne-la-Vallee, Paris<br />

Volker Pantenburg, Bauhaus-Universität Weimar<br />

Alessandra Ponte, Université de Montréal<br />

Christian Schmid, ETH Zurich<br />

Ralph Ubl, eikones NFS Bildkritik Basel<br />

Charles Waldheim, Harvard GSD<br />

Kongjian Yu, Peking University<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> <strong>Vision</strong> <strong>Motion</strong><br />


Manuscript proposals are welcome in elds appropriate<br />

for <strong>Landscript</strong>. Scholarly submissions should be<br />

formatted in accordance with The Chicago Manual of<br />

Style and the spelling should follow American convention.<br />

The full manuscript must be submitted as a Microsoft<br />

Word document, on a CD or disk, accompanied by a<br />

hard copy of the text. Accompanying images should be<br />

sent as TIFF les with a resolution of at least 300 dpi<br />

at 8 × 9-inch print size. Figures should be numbered<br />

clearly in the text. Image captions and credits must be<br />

included with submissions. It is the responsibility of the<br />

author to secure permissions for image use and pay any<br />

reproduction fees. A brief letter of inquiry and author<br />

biography must also accompany the text.<br />

Acceptance or rejection of submissions is at the discretion<br />

of the editors. Please do not send original materials, as<br />

submissions will not be returned.<br />

Please direct submissions to this address:<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong><br />

Chair of Professor Christophe Girot<br />

Institute of <strong>Landscape</strong> Architecture ILA, ETH Zurich<br />

Wolfgang-Pauli-Strasse 15, HIL H 54.2<br />

8093 Zurich, Switzerland<br />

Questions about submissions can be emailed to:<br />

kirchengast@arch.ethz.ch<br />

Visit our website for further information:<br />


Christophe Girot<br />

Fred Truniger (EDs.)<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong><br />

<strong>Vision</strong><br />

<strong>Motion</strong><br />

Christophe Girot was born in Paris in 1957. He<br />

is Professor and Chair of the Institute of <strong>Landscape</strong><br />

Architecture at the Architecture Department of the<br />

ETH in Zurich. His teaching and research interests<br />

span new topological methods in landscape design,<br />

landscape perception, and analysis through new media,<br />

and contemporary theory and history of landscape<br />

architecture. He cofounded the <strong>Landscape</strong> Visualizing<br />

and Modeling Laboratory (LV ML) at the ETH in 2010.<br />

His professional practice focuses on large-scale landscape<br />

projects, using advanced 3D GIS techniques that<br />

contribute to the design of adaptive and sustainable<br />

landscape environments.<br />

Fred Truniger is a lm scholar and curator.<br />

He studied Film and German Studies at the University<br />

of Zurich and the Freie Universität in Berlin and<br />

received his PhD from the ETH Zurich in <strong>Landscape</strong><br />

Architecture. He is the head of the research focus<br />

“Visual Narrative” at the School of Art and Design of<br />

the Lucerne University of Applied Sciences and Arts.<br />

Visual Thinking in<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> Culture

Ta ble of Contents<br />

Foreword<br />

C h r i s t o p h e G i r o t<br />

13<br />

[A]<br />

Provisional Notes on <strong>Landscape</strong> Representation<br />

and Digital Media<br />

C h a r l e s Wa l d h e i m<br />

Another Green World<br />

E e l c o H o o f t m a n<br />

Going to Measures—Cultivating and<br />

Appreciating the Contemporary <strong>Landscape</strong>s<br />

J a n i k e K a m p e v o l d L a r s e n<br />

21<br />

37<br />

63<br />

[B]<br />

The Return of Proximity<br />

E l e n a C o g a t o L a n z a Translation: David Mason / Architran<br />

Urban Cuttings: Sections and Crossings<br />

F r é d é r i c P o u s i n Translation: Céline Mansanti<br />

81<br />

101<br />

[C]<br />

Panoramique—Panning over <strong>Landscape</strong>s<br />

Vo l k e r P a n t e n b u r g Translation: Ben Letzler<br />


Travelling Warrior and Complete Urbanization<br />

in Switzerland: <strong>Landscape</strong> as Lived Space<br />

C h r i s t i a n S c h m i d Translation: Cecile Brouillaud<br />

The Environmental Self and its Travels<br />

Through Imaginary <strong>Landscape</strong>s<br />

R o b i n C u r t i s<br />

Between Topic and Topography:<br />

The <strong>Landscape</strong>s of Eric Rohmer<br />

S é b a s t i e n M a r o t<br />

Authors<br />

139<br />

157<br />

175<br />

203<br />


Foreword<br />

C h r i s t o p h e G i r o t<br />

This rst issue of <strong>Landscript</strong>, entitled <strong>Landscape</strong><br />

<strong>Vision</strong> <strong>Motion</strong>, brings together knowledge from different<br />

professions, inuencing the evolution of landscape<br />

thinking—such as architecture, lm, video, sociology,<br />

geography, and history. It is a collection of ideas about<br />

landscape, taking effect not only at the level of planning<br />

and design, but also of vision and image making.<br />

The interaction between landscape and image has<br />

evolved over the course of history, with progress in visual<br />

thinking in many cases setting a conceptual precedent in<br />

anticipation of design. <strong>Landscape</strong> traditions have often<br />

relied on a combination of word and image to brand landscapes<br />

with deeper symbolic meaning. But the present<br />

medial condition does not reect the immense impact of<br />

digital reality on our collective perception of landscape.<br />

A deep schism has arisen between established forms of<br />

pictorial convention in landscape, and the substantive<br />

dematerialization of our imagination through time-based<br />

media. <strong>Landscript</strong> is here just to remind us of the intricacies<br />

in our way of seeing, thinking, and projecting.<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> <strong>Vision</strong> <strong>Motion</strong> is an anthology opened by<br />

Charles Waldheim. In his text, he asserts that mapping<br />

and cartography have gradually reached the limits of<br />

their own success. He proposes that the use of video and<br />

a new form of landscape representation, which he calls<br />


Provisional Notes on <strong>Landscape</strong><br />

Representation and Digital Media<br />

C h a r l e s Wa l d h e i m<br />

© President and Fellows of Harvard College (the legal entity).<br />

In much of the most interesting practices of contemporary<br />

landscape representation, the two dominant historic<br />

paradigms of landscape representation in the West—the<br />

synoptic model and the scenario-based sequence of<br />

views—intersect in new hybrid forms. The idea of georeferenced<br />

data and photography interpolated from crowd<br />

sourcing is an interesting new development on what has<br />

been a half-century of digital development in complex<br />

mimetic models of natural and cultural landscapes. On<br />

the other hand, there has of course been a very strong<br />

tradition—some would say origin—of landscape in the<br />

West based on the painting or view. Both of those models<br />

of landscape representation, the synoptic that aspires<br />

to model the world and the scenario-based that seeks<br />

to construct a narrative in it, predate contemporary<br />

interests in digital media. Both models have also<br />

benetted from decades of development through explicitly<br />

digital computational platforms. Both of these dominant<br />

representational paradigms are going through their own<br />

internal transitions, and there is much interest in the<br />

potential for overlaps and intersections between the two.<br />

A surface interpolated with SYMAP 3. Source: Red Book 1966, page I3, Harvard<br />

University Graduate School of Design.<br />

The synoptic paradigm of modeling is increasingly<br />

moving from a history of government controlled, highly<br />

militarized, centralized top-down modeling toward an<br />

increasingly open sourced promiscuity of reference. At<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 20<br />


Courtesy of the Artist and Donald Young Gallery, Chicago.<br />

Joshua Mosley: Dread, 2007. Mixed media animation, 6 minutes. Edition of ve.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 32 33

Another Green World<br />

E e l c o H o o f t m a n , GROSS. M A X.<br />

“To think is to speculate with images.”<br />

Giordano Bruno<br />

“I have had a dispute lately … on an absurd vulgar<br />

opinion, which he holds—that we see with our eyes:<br />

whereas I assert, that our eyes are only mere glass<br />

windows, and we see with our imagination.”<br />

William Gilpin<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> can reconcile opposite forces: Apollo and<br />

Bacchus, classic and romantic, articial and natural,<br />

growth and decay, beauty and sublime. It may be dened<br />

as a state of continuous becoming—never quite started<br />

and never quite nished. Not an object but a process. For<br />

GROSS. M A X. the very act of landscape architecture<br />

is not unlike taking off on a reconnaissance ight above<br />

unknown territory whilst ying, undetected below the<br />

radar of styles. We are ying—exalted to a kind of<br />

omniscience—no longer on automatic pilot but navigating<br />

on our own visual faculty. The world below: a multitude of<br />

vividly moving lines and gures; calligraphy intertwined<br />

with cartography.<br />

The creation of the eighteenth century landscape garden<br />

occurred as antidote to the absolute garden and emerged<br />

during a transitional period from rational classicism to<br />


Jacob Isaakszoon van Ruisdael, Meadows near Haarlem, 1674.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 48 49

Sense of <strong>Vision</strong><br />

Pandora Box<br />

18 Hume, David:<br />

A Treatise of Human<br />

Nature.Penguin Classics<br />

London 1985, p. 301, rst<br />

published 1739.<br />

19 William Shenstone:<br />

“Unconnected Thoughts<br />

on Gardening” (1718),<br />

published in: The Works in<br />

Verse and Prose of William<br />

Shenstone. London 1766,<br />

Vol. 11, p. 131.<br />

20 Richard Payne Knight,<br />

The <strong>Landscape</strong>: A Didactic<br />

Poem in Three Books,<br />

London 1799 p. 19.<br />

21 Keats John: “Ode to<br />

Psyche” (1819), published<br />

in: The Oxford Book of<br />

English Verse: 1250–1900,<br />

edited by Arthur Quiller-<br />

Couch, Oxford 1919.<br />

22 Tafuri, Manfred:<br />

Teorie e storia<br />

dell’architettura. Bari<br />

1968.<br />

The Scottish enlightenment philosopher David Hume<br />

observed, that “the mind is a kind of theatre, where<br />

several perceptions successively make their appearance;<br />

pass, re-pass, glide away and mingle in an innite variety<br />

of postures and situations.” —18 Hume’s description of the<br />

mind reads as a stroll along the winding English Garden<br />

path with changing perspectives and a mosaic of views;<br />

an English garden path which twists and turns and<br />

doubles back on its tracks. On of the key party tricks in<br />

the design of the English Garden is, that “the foot should<br />

never travel by the same path which the eye has travelled<br />

over before.” —19 Richard Payne Knight, who also dened<br />

the subjectivist foundations of the picturesque, refers<br />

to the “spontaneous association of ideas triggered by an<br />

object or view presented to the eye, not felt by the organic<br />

sense of vision, but by the intellect and imagination<br />

through that sense.” —20 <strong>Landscape</strong> scenes therefore were<br />

created not only to please the eye, but above all to excite<br />

the imagination and produce sensations of grandeur,<br />

melancholy, gaiety and sublimity. John Ruskin who<br />

identied the picturesque as a genuinely modern aesthetic<br />

category, in The Seven Lamps of Architecture called it<br />

however the “pathetic fallacy,” the belief that the landscape<br />

might be made to mirror the emotional state of the<br />

person found within it. A new generation of poets spearheaded<br />

the landscape experience. Coleridge coined the<br />

word “psycho-analytic” and Keats, in his ‘Ode to Psyche’,<br />

navigates the garden as a kind of mental map describing<br />

the garden space as “in some untrodden region of my<br />

mind” where “branched thoughts” create a picturesque<br />

landscape, the work of the “gardener Fancy.” —21 Manfred<br />

Tafuri suggested in his Teorie e storia dell’architettura<br />

from 1968 to apply the term psychological gardens rather<br />

than landscape gardens, so obvious is it that they reect<br />

the innermost soul of a period whose contradictions<br />

continue to fascinate us. —22<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> as a psychological garden has turned all<br />

failed attempts of an objective enlightenment landscape<br />

analysis back into dark the realms of subjective landscape<br />

psychoanalysis—a wonderful Pandora Box of repressed<br />

earthly delights. For ‘Architecture International<br />

Rotterdam 2001’ we were asked to transform an elevated<br />

railway into a public promenade, with hindsight a kind<br />

of prototype version of The High-line in New York. The<br />

project proposals included a large glass house superimposed<br />

on the remains of the former Hofplein railway<br />

station. The minimalist architecture of the glass box is<br />

in strong contrast to the organic orgy of orchid owers<br />

it contains. At night the glasshouse is transformed<br />

into a light-box with gigantic shadow projections of<br />

exotic plants displayed on its outer skin. A dazzling<br />

kaleidoscopic image of nature perfected in hybrid owers,<br />

mutant foliage and genetically modied fruits: landscape<br />

Architecture as skillful, accurate, and magnicent interplay<br />

of assembled vegetation under light. Our key image<br />

for the project displays the glasshouse as hedonistic<br />

pleasure zone not unlike the illustrious public wintergardens<br />

in Berlin, Paris and Vienna. Only recently<br />

we encountered a series of orchid paintings by Martin<br />

Johnson Heade. We were struck with their remarkable<br />

similarity. —23 The contrast between the close-up ower<br />

juxtaposed against the wide angled landscape, the use<br />

of dramatic sky, the colors slightly oversaturated. Not<br />

to forget the overtly symbolism of the orchid’s sexual<br />

connotation and the part played by the bird in the ower’s<br />

reproductive process. Could the missing link between the<br />

painting and our image been an essay written by George<br />

Bataille entitled The Language of Flowers? In this essay<br />

on the symbolic nature of the ower is a revealing text<br />

wherein he draws parallels between the anatomy of the<br />

ower and the human body as well as his interpretation<br />

of the nature of seduction, beauty, love, and death as<br />

23 The paintings by<br />

Martin Johnston Hyde<br />

were only relative recently<br />

been recovered from old<br />

garages and car boot sales.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 58<br />


Going to Measures—Cultivating and<br />

Appreciating the Contemporary <strong>Landscape</strong>s<br />

J a n i k e K a m p e v o l d L a r s e n<br />

“The soul’s engineer measures the universe with a<br />

teaspoon.” This line in a poem by Norwegian poet Tone<br />

Hødnebø refers both to T. S. Eliot’s “I have measured out<br />

my life with coffee spoons,” in The love song of J. Alfred<br />

Prufrock, and to the rather unknown Russian Zhdanov<br />

who once called poets the engineers of the soul. —1<br />

The soul’s engineers are writers and artists, and their<br />

measurement is tedious, connected to the slow temporal<br />

structure at the human scale of sipping tea. In Hødnebø’s<br />

poetic universe, this is one of many individual measuring<br />

strategies. For her, human orientation involves a desire<br />

to measure out, order, and plan the surrounding, while<br />

still suffering the frustration of the imprecision of the<br />

human consciousness, reected in tilted plans, dislocated<br />

arches, an architecture distorted by imagery, uncertainty,<br />

and speculation—not unlike Eisenstein’s “explosion” of<br />

Piranesi’s Carcere with staircase ascending to the left. —2<br />

Individual experiences tend to disrupt architectural<br />

procedure. They also tend to alter landscapes, noticing<br />

other qualities than those revealed by a representation<br />

based on preconceived notions of what is a landscape.<br />

By the mid-nineteenth century, the Grand Canyon was<br />

still not part of the American geographical and aesthetic<br />

consciousness. The area had been “discovered,” it had<br />

been visited by Spanish explorers as early as 1540,<br />

1 Hødnebø, Tone:<br />

Et lykkelig øyeblikk (A<br />

Happy Moment), Selection<br />

and afterword by Janike<br />

Kampevold Larsen. Oslo<br />

2005, p. 19.<br />

2 Piranesi, Giovanni<br />

Battista: Carceri, plate<br />

X I V. 1760. Sergej<br />

Eisenstein performs a<br />

transguration of two<br />

of Piranesi’s etchings.<br />

Eisenstein, Sergej: “On<br />

the uidity of forms.”<br />

In: Oppositions, No. 11.<br />

Cambridge, Massachusetts<br />

1977.<br />


we relate to by habit simply by looking at them differently.<br />

In the ETH videos, landscapes are lmed up close,<br />

unfolding beneath and before the sightline of the moving<br />

subject. The ground being so acutely present in most<br />

of them effectively challenges a tradition of landscape<br />

representation that has focused on static representation<br />

of the vertical scenery. Let us look at four videos in some<br />

detail.<br />

pulled through, is a commonplace rural landscape, its<br />

typology familiar. But the gaze that is inaugurated at<br />

the landing strip meets no resistance in matter; it is a<br />

gaze that maybe desires to see to the bottom of things,<br />

to obsolete the distance between mind and object, while<br />

in fact it moves on and on, indenitely. The view is thus<br />

deconstructed by movement.<br />

Short Cut (Janine Koch, Philip Hegnauer, 2006) begins at an<br />

airport eld and moves towards the horizon or vanishing<br />

point. It picks up speed as it advances towards the beginning<br />

of a runway, blasts through some cages and rubble,<br />

and approaches a wooded area. We realize it is not going<br />

to stop. It proceeds through the woods, a hedge, and a<br />

chicken fence, emerges on the other side of fence and hedge<br />

and runs down an alley, along a row of houses, along the<br />

middle of the straight road, cars lined on one side, into the<br />

darkness of some underbrush and shrubs, across a street<br />

and into community gardens, straight through a small<br />

hill and a corneld, further on towards a house at the end<br />

of the eld, then through the house—in which we pick<br />

up reminiscences of a conversation—and gardens until<br />

it ends up in a wide eld of pine wood, bare and straight<br />

trunks. All this happens in less than a minute in an<br />

experiment that records an impossible gaze at high speed;<br />

we get the impression of moving with the gaze, its speed of<br />

light extension along one probing straight line.<br />

What is the gaze that is being suggested here? The<br />

landscape looked at, which the spectator is also being<br />

Nature—Roundabout III (Roman Loretan, Gianni Traxler, 2004)<br />

features a car, or perhaps two, as one car seems to be<br />

observed from another car. At least the moving eye circles<br />

a pond with a view to the car, also circling the same<br />

site. The cycle becomes repeated but the constellation<br />

and rhythm of the elements in view change according to<br />

where the cars are in relation to each other, and elements<br />

always in the eld separating them: the pond, a weeping<br />

willow, some shrubs, etc. The scene resembles a merrygo-round<br />

only with natural elements, and the video does<br />

nothing but cultivate the pleasure of motion by car, the<br />

continuous rearrangement of elements always producing<br />

new views and tableaus. The cultivation is also a measurement,<br />

indicated by the repeated circumvention of the<br />

pond, which draws a circle of sorts.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 68<br />


The Return of Proximity<br />

Elena Cogato Lanza<br />

With the design and performance of the “Post-Kyoto”<br />

sustainable city, characterized by the twin imperatives<br />

of a reduction in the transportation of people and goods<br />

and a densication of existing built fabric, we are<br />

witnessing a return to the theme of “proximity.” We refer<br />

to proximity, at its most basic, in a spatial and metrical<br />

sense, but also more broadly in the sense of individual<br />

and social praxis, as a sphere that will increasingly play<br />

host to an ever greater portion of our everyday lives. In<br />

our individual and collective choices, as well as in urban<br />

policy, space matters again.<br />

Throughout the twentieth century, proximity, in<br />

theoretical and design terms, essentially developed in two<br />

directions: rst, as an ordered, balanced arrangement<br />

of “neighborhood units” within a hierarchical territory;<br />

second, and in critical opposition to this, in the hypothesis<br />

by which spatial conguration is seen as totally<br />

independent of social practices. The latter, being reticular<br />

in character, include practices that might be described as<br />

proximal insofar as they are characterized by relations<br />

of familiarity, but that cannot be tied to a precisely<br />

measured area or specic articulations linking residential,<br />

service, and open spaces. As we will see in this article,<br />

the critique of the neighborhood unit model has also<br />

occurred by way of an opposition of certain photographic<br />

representations of the urban landscape and of social<br />


Finn Geipel, Giulia Andi, redesigning the relationships between transit system and<br />

morphology. Source: LIN + Fabio Casiroli Systematica.<br />

By means of these social condensers, clusters, or<br />

supérettes, the city develops a response to society’s aspirations<br />

and delivers practicable and convenient day-to-day<br />

solutions, whether in terms of accessibility or visibility,<br />

that relate effectively to the home-work relay and supply<br />

setting. The soft metropolis, a mixed, multipolar entity<br />

that oscillates between denser and looser textures, is<br />

an accessible city, a city of “short distances.” For the<br />

optimum organization of human and commercial trafc<br />

around the major corridors set up by railway infrastructure<br />

around the region, LIN proposes developing rapid<br />

tangential links and micro-mobility: a BRT (Bus Rapid<br />

Transit) system for routes up to a maximum range of<br />

fteen kilometers and small individual systems of feeders<br />

and shuttle buses with a range of up to three kilometers.<br />

The polycentrism put forward by Rogers Stirk Harbour<br />

and Partners is in perfect continuity with the ideology of<br />

the equilibrated Garden City. —13 A diagrammatic articulation<br />

in the form of rays that are pertinent on different<br />

scales—locality / neighborhood / district / town / city in an<br />

outwardly developing progression from a radius of 200<br />

meters to 5 kilometers, read as an assembly of Russian<br />

dolls—respects the measure established by a tradition<br />

that extends from Howard and Perry through the New<br />

Towns to Rogers’ own London master plan. Calmly<br />

indifferent to the criticisms aimed at the neighborhood<br />

unit as a segregative model, the Rogers group sees the<br />

pertinence of technical instruments in strictly pragmatic<br />

terms. This “urbanism of models” is anchored spatially<br />

within the Paris agglomeration, fused with it through<br />

a specic design theme: that of the transformation of<br />

radial rail routes. These linear elements, which at present<br />

compartmentalize the region into isolated sectors, are to<br />

become the new metropolitan “armatures” (Rogers) to<br />

be constructed over the railway area as multifunctional<br />

platforms ostensibly serving as energy devices. These<br />

armatures will enable the permeability rate across<br />

the metropolis to approach that of Paris intra-muros,<br />

13 Arup; London<br />

School of Economics and<br />

political science: Paris<br />

Métropole. Le dessin de<br />

l’agglomération parisienne<br />

du futur, rapport nal de<br />

la consultation. London<br />

2009.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 92<br />


Urban Cuttings: Sections and Crossings<br />

F r é d é r i c P o u s i n<br />

With the development of urbanization, and metropolises<br />

in particular, large-scale urban projects have become<br />

the rule. Indeed, when intervening on a territory, as<br />

small as it may be, it is necessary to work within a larger,<br />

integrating framework, while bringing solutions to the<br />

local issues the project originates from. Breaking away<br />

from the idea of boundaries at work in a certain type of<br />

operational urbanism, and going beyond a mere response<br />

to a diagnosis, such an inscription requires a dynamic<br />

conception of the territory based on the notions of routes<br />

and crossings, and involves several time and space<br />

scales. Today, these strategies are at the core of a debate<br />

involving many disciplinary elds such as architecture,<br />

urbanism, geography and landscaping: they appeal to<br />

many cartographic, photographic, and videographic<br />

practices and create new tools. —1 Among these tools, the<br />

urban transect will be of special interest, because it led to<br />

many experiments and investigations, some of which are<br />

presented here. —2<br />

From the point of view of representation, the urban<br />

transect cuts across the space presenting its vertical<br />

dispositions, unlike the map, which is the result of a<br />

projection on a horizontal surface. Such a shift not only<br />

implies a change in the representation of space; it also<br />

requires a different turn of mind and a different relationship<br />

to space. The map requires a global vision, whereas<br />

1 See the responses to<br />

the international consulting<br />

on the metropolitan<br />

future of Greater Paris, in<br />

particular those of Studio<br />

09, Bernardo Secchi / Paola<br />

Vigano, A MC Le Moniteur<br />

Architecture, le Grand<br />

Pari(s). International consulting<br />

on the future of the<br />

Parisian metropolis, 2009.<br />

2 See Tixier, Nicolas<br />

(Ed.): L’Ambiance est<br />

dans l’air. La dimension<br />

atmosphérique des ambiances<br />

architecturales et<br />

urbaines dans les approches<br />

environnementales, investigation<br />

led by Pir Ville<br />

et Environnement, Fall<br />

2008–Spring 2010. Vol. I,<br />

p. 67 p., vol. II, p. 49.<br />

See as well the response of<br />

Team Bazar urbain / Contrepoint<br />

/ Groupe chronos /<br />

Zoom to the 2011 consulting<br />

Amiens Metropolis, a<br />

Project for Everyday Life<br />

on Amiens 2030 Metropolitan<br />

Project.<br />


Architectural Review, vol. 117, n° 702, June 1955. Architectural Review, vol. 117, n° 702, June 1955.<br />

The representation device is complex, and cannot be<br />

summed up by a route map. Through more than sixty<br />

pages, the route is broken down in a series of sections<br />

illustrated by photographs and captioned by a journalistic<br />

text characterizing the places and phenomena and<br />

commenting when necessary on the photographs. In one<br />

section, a historical survey allows for the chronological<br />

visualization of urban sprawl over twenty-ve square<br />

miles—a ve-mile-long square. A series of maps from<br />

the 1786 royal maps to 1952 show its evolution from<br />

isolated farms to twentieth-century military facilities<br />

and Warrington city’s industrial fringes.<br />

This is not a route map but a section, since the representation<br />

gives access to a historical depth. The section is<br />

organized around two main axes, the longitudinal axis<br />

and the perpendicular axis of depth.<br />

Crossing and Traveling<br />

With the crossing as well as with the section, space is no<br />

longer a at surface to be understood extensively. The<br />

section is a cross representation associating spaces in<br />

several dimensions without producing any territorialization.<br />

In the nineteen-fties and nineteen-sixties, Pierre<br />

Chombart de Lawe’s urban sociology and the Situationists’<br />

psycho-geography —28 designed an urban cartography<br />

28 For more information<br />

on these movements<br />

see Palma, Riccardo:<br />

“Détournements. Les<br />

gures cartographiques<br />

de la géographie dans le<br />

projet architectural.” In:<br />

Pousin, Frédéric: Figures<br />

de la ville et construction<br />

des savoirs. Paris 2005,<br />

pp. 86–94.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 112<br />


4 See Schwarzer, Mitchell:<br />

Zoomscape. Architecture<br />

in <strong>Motion</strong> and Media,<br />

New York 2004.<br />

Schwarzer’s term—that connect image, landscape, and<br />

a mobile recording unit to one another, creating uid<br />

transitions. —4 In over a hundred years of lm history, an<br />

immense variety of options has emerged to put spaces and<br />

landscapes in motion.<br />

In view of the numerous ways of lming landscapes—<br />

from land, from water, by air—it may make sense to<br />

come back to one of the basic operations underlying many<br />

more complex techniques of the cinematographic depiction<br />

of the landscape: the horizontal panning motion of a<br />

camera that is itself stationary, sweeping uniformly over<br />

a landscape. There is an afnity between the pan and the<br />

landscape, and I wish to explore certain implications of<br />

this afnity in what follows.<br />

5 See Truniger, Fred:<br />

Filmic Mapping. Documentary<br />

Film and the Visual<br />

Culture of <strong>Landscape</strong><br />

Architecture. Berlin 2012.<br />

II<br />

For many years, like everyone else interested in the<br />

cinema, I have seen lms with pans. However, it was<br />

not until I saw Gerhard Friedl’s lms Knittelfeld and<br />

Hat Wolff von Amerongen Konkursdelikte begangen?<br />

(AUT 1997 and 2004), that I really paid attention to this<br />

specic operation. In these two lms, the pan is revealed<br />

in its full clarity and mystery. The lms are made<br />

possible, one can say without exaggeration, in part by the<br />

simple fact that pans exist; that the slow panning motion<br />

is one of the tools in the toolbox of cinematographic<br />

operations. Friedl’s lms are landscape lms; more than<br />

that, they are pan lms. —5<br />

My initial question is, what is a pan, or better: what<br />

makes a pan? To what regime of the gaze is it linked,<br />

into which historical constellations and genealogies is it<br />

inscribed? What is it good for, how does it cut parts out<br />

of the visible world and exclude others, intentionally or<br />

inadvertently?<br />

Stills from the lm Hat Wolff von Amerongen Konkursdelikte begangen? 2004.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 122 123

Travelling Warrior and Complete Urbanization<br />

in Switzerland: <strong>Landscape</strong> as Lived Space<br />

C h r i s t i a n S c h m i d<br />

The point of departure for this text is a lm by Christian<br />

Schocher, produced in 1979 and which had its premiere in<br />

1981. At the time, the lm was a sensation—at least for<br />

the few who saw it. The limited audience and showings<br />

was not surprising for a black and white lm over three<br />

hours long in which a man drives through the countryside<br />

and not much else happens. Yet this is a historic lm<br />

because it captured, for the rst time, an essential trend<br />

of contemporary Switzerland: the complete urbanization<br />

of society.<br />

This expression draws on one of the most famous<br />

hypotheses in urban studies, the opening line of French<br />

philosopher and theoretician Henri Lefebvre’s groundbreaking<br />

1970 book La révolution urbaine (English:<br />

The Urban Revolution, 2003). This thesis formulates a<br />

tendency, at the time apparent only on a distant horizon,<br />

which would soon become a dening reality. Lefebvre<br />

understands urbanization in a double sense: on the one<br />

hand, urbanization increasingly encompasses broad<br />

areas of society; on the other, the urban fabric continues<br />

to extend itself into new territories, transforming both<br />

historical cities and previously rural areas.<br />

All stills from the lm Reisender Krieger, 1981.<br />

The lm is a particular form of semi-documentary. The<br />

central character is an actor who takes us on a journey<br />


One aspect of the aesthetic of the lm is strongly characteristic<br />

of a specic historic representation of urban<br />

space, and this is one of the reasons the lm’s impact is<br />

less powerful now than it was at the time it was released.<br />

Although only thirty years old, the lm presents what<br />

seems like an entirely different urban world. Reisender<br />

Krieger was shot on 16mm lm, and while Grauzone<br />

was produced in 35mm and Züri brännt was shot on<br />

video, the lms achieve very similar forms of aesthetic<br />

expression in their use of black and white. The gray that<br />

dominates these lms serves as a way of expressing a<br />

certain experience and inducing a specic feeling. This<br />

is not the clear and contrasting black and white we know<br />

from movie classics, nor is it the gloom of Film Noir. It<br />

is a foggy, blurry black and white used to show a kind of<br />

blurred urban gray zone conquering the whole landscape<br />

and transforming it. It is more a kind of gray-on-gray,<br />

an absence of color and thus also of life. “Living,” it<br />

seems, has fallen prey to urbanization, and it must be<br />

won back.<br />

Of course, technology is also partly to blame for this<br />

aesthetic. Züri brännt was produced with the semiprofessional<br />

mobile equipment available at the time—relatively<br />

heavy, but still portable video equipment with black and<br />

white cameras; affordable color cameras were only just<br />

arriving on the market. The relatively low resolution<br />

of the tube cameras, and the technical shortcomings of<br />

recording techniques and post-production caused the<br />

ultimately sluggish, blurry images that icker across<br />

the screen—very typical of the aesthetics of the video<br />

movement at the time. In Reisender Krieger, the high<br />

exposure tolerance of black and white lm, in contrast to<br />

color, undoubtedly also played an important role in the<br />

choice of this lm stock. The new 16mm black and white<br />

lm was relatively sensitive to light, and even enabled<br />

some night lming without additional lighting, but it<br />

was relatively coarse-grained, contributing further to the<br />

gray effect. In Grauzone, on the other hand, there was<br />

no technical reason for the choice of black and white; as<br />

a 35mm production, it had a full spectrum of technical<br />

means available to it. Here, the decision was made purely<br />

on the basis of aesthetic criteria.<br />

These lms were stylistically inuential, establishing a<br />

new representation of urban space in which “gray” and<br />

“concrete” became verbal and visual metaphors for an<br />

inhospitable urban world. The “urban gray zone” became<br />

the symbol of the aesthetic, emotional, and practical<br />

devastation brought about by the process of urbanization<br />

itself. These images evoke a very specic experience,<br />

hardly comprehensible today. This offers us an important<br />

insight: such experiences are not universal but specic,<br />

and they change over time.<br />

The Bright Lights of the City<br />

If one looks at how processes of urbanization within<br />

Switzerland are represented today, one can identify a<br />

fundamental and altogether astonishing transformation.<br />

This change is manifested, for example, in Siedlungen,<br />

Agglomeration, the photo series produced by Peter Fischli<br />

and David Weiss (Fischli / Weiss 1993). In contrast to the<br />

“urban gray zone” aesthetic of the nineteen-eighties lms,<br />

their suburban landscapes are in color, perfectly sharp,<br />

often with owers and blue sky—a completely different<br />

kind of representation of urban space. Yet this does not<br />

mean that these urban landscapes have become harmless.<br />

On the contrary, these images express a subtle danger<br />

lurking behind the blooms of the yellow forsythia and the<br />

cotoneaster. In the photography of Fischli and Weiss, this<br />

peril is depicted less in the totalizing and homogenizing<br />

tendency of urbanization, than in the fact that these<br />

backward-looking images of a long-lost rurality are<br />

obscuring the possibilities and potentials of urbanization.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 150<br />


proximity to another self to which the lmic image seems<br />

to offer privileged access.<br />

Phenomenology and the Self in Film<br />

In her study The Address of the Eye: A Phenomenology of<br />

Film Experience, Vivian Sobchack locates lm’s medial<br />

specicity in its ability to situate the viewer within its<br />

temporal and spatial specicity, thereby offering a unique<br />

perceptual opportunity. She writes: “More than any other<br />

medium of human communication, the moving picture<br />

makes itself sensuously and sensibly manifest as the<br />

expression of experience by experience. A lm is an act of<br />

seeing that makes itself seen, an act of hearing that makes<br />

itself heard, an act of physical and reective movement<br />

that makes itself reexively felt and understood.… Cinema<br />

thus transposes, without completely transforming, those<br />

modes of being alive and consciously embodied in the<br />

world that count for each of us as direct experience: as<br />

experience ‘centered’ in that particular, situated and solely<br />

occupied existence sensed rst as ‘Here, where the world<br />

touches’ and then as ‘Here, where the world is sensible;<br />

here where I am’” (Sobchack 1995, p. 37).<br />

Film offers a sensual experience of the world, not only<br />

a description of it; it offers direct access to the experience<br />

of the other, not only an account of that experience; it is<br />

embodied and not only descriptive of corporeal experience;<br />

nally, it emphasizes the “here” of experience, the manner<br />

in which one’s situation in the world is of the utmost<br />

importance to one’s particular identity. And yet, if lm is<br />

always intersubjective, it is not possible to claim that the<br />

other of lm, or as Sobchack refers to it, the body of the<br />

lm, is identical to that of the lmmaker: the notion that<br />

the lmmaker is herself present in the lm is hindered<br />

at the same time the intersubjectivity that is generally<br />

inherent to lm and its connection to a given time and<br />

place is highlighted.<br />

But what are the repercussions implicit in an<br />

understanding of landscape that views it as a product of<br />

cognitive and societal constructs? To elucidate how these<br />

issues may become tangible within lms, I’d like to offer<br />

the example of two lms that use diametrically opposed<br />

representational strategies to demarcate both cognitive<br />

and societal aspects of the “situation” made available to<br />

the viewer by each one of them. The two lms at issue<br />

here, Oskar Fischinger’s München-Berlin Wanderung,<br />

and Adolf Winkelmann’s Kassel 9.12.67 11.54 h examine<br />

the precarious situation of the stranger, even as the<br />

protagonists align themselves—to varying degrees—both<br />

with the itinerant and with the local. They imagine situations<br />

of ostracism, exclusion, and isolation; indeed what is<br />

remarkable about these lms is that they all demonstrate<br />

a longing for the status of the stranger, to be an unknown<br />

wanderer, far from home, utterly distinct from one’s<br />

surroundings. Key to their musings, which take a variety<br />

of forms, is however, the attempt to distinguish self from<br />

other by implicitly asking what sets one apart and what<br />

binds one to others. All of these works attempt to dene<br />

the limits of community, even as they locate moments of<br />

commonality in the strangest places.<br />

The Stranger<br />

The relationship between self and other implicit in the<br />

notion of the stranger is not as simple as one might think.<br />

Georg Simmel makes a case for a far greater intimacy<br />

between the stranger and the local than was commonly<br />

thought to be the case. Rather than simply representing<br />

the itinerant per se, the stranger, in his account, is both<br />

known and unknown, familiar and strange. And yet, the<br />

degree to which this gure is familiar to the local is not<br />

his most essential feature. Eliminating from consideration<br />

that which is utterly unknown—and thus cannot be<br />

classied as strange unless it becomes known at some<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 160<br />


those around him, he endeavors to separate himself from<br />

them, avoiding their gaze, as if to suggest he is distinct<br />

from them, if not non-corporeal, as suggested above,<br />

then at very least, perhaps, a Weltbürger rather than a<br />

German citizen. Yet nally he succumbs, not only to the<br />

demands of corporeal existence, but also to that most<br />

quintessentially German snack food, the sausage, submitting<br />

thus also to the culture around him and abandoning<br />

his isolation. Furthermore, the protagonist’s movements<br />

support this interpersonal acquiescence.<br />

In Kassel 9.12.67 11.54 h, the viewer witnesses the<br />

protension of the ecological self, as it glides through space,<br />

getting its bearings by means of that which Neisser terms<br />

visual kinesthesis, “an optically produced awareness of<br />

one’s own movement and posture” (Neisser 1988, p. 38). However,<br />

in the case of this particular lm, which offers a rare<br />

perspective in which the protagonist both controls the<br />

camera and is visible in its range, the viewer can only<br />

imagine such visual kinesthesis; it is not made visible<br />

to her. Since the camera is trained on the protagonist<br />

himself, rather than on what lies before him, the lm<br />

emphasizes the withdrawal of the interpersonal self over<br />

the experience of the ecological self. Thus the viscerality<br />

of the protagonist’s movement through space is not made<br />

available to be shared by the viewer; the visibility of his<br />

consumption of the sausage, corporeal as that act may be,<br />

is only a minimal consolation.<br />

Travel and the traversal of space are key features of<br />

the lms in question here, in that they seek to facilitate<br />

the localization of the self within space through the<br />

distinctions they make between here and there, self and<br />

other. In essence, although not all of the protagonists<br />

in these lms leave their home cities. These two lms<br />

address the notion of tourism as put forth by Georges<br />

Van den Abbeele, when he writes that, “it is through<br />

the accumulation of experiences gleaned from cultural<br />

interaction that the individual is supposed to be able to<br />

situate himself in society. Not only is the number of one’s<br />

experiences a sign of one’s social worth (people with<br />

lots of experience are considered better than those with<br />

fewer), but one’s very involvement in a cultural experience<br />

is supposed to authenticate one’s membership in the<br />

society in which this experience takes place.… Tourism<br />

is seen to fulll the ideological function of palliating the<br />

individual’s sense of ‘alienation’” (Van den Abbeele 1980, p. 5). It is<br />

thus the tourist’s implicit project to situate herself within<br />

the group that is constituted around her, in an attempt<br />

to alleviate her own isolation. But in what fashion is the<br />

activity of tourism related to that of lm reception? If,<br />

following his argument, the protagonist of a lm may<br />

be seen to be situating herself in society by means of<br />

cultural interaction, how may the lm viewer participate<br />

in this exercise?<br />

In her Atlas of Emotion: Journeys in Art, Architecture,<br />

and Film, Giuliana Bruno suggests that the spatial<br />

effects evoked both by the traversal of urban space and by<br />

lm viewing are each capable of producing a similar kind<br />

of experience. She argues that, “The spatial culture that<br />

lm has developed, offering its own vedute, is a mobile<br />

architectonics of traveled space. Film’s spectatorship is<br />

thus a practice of space that is dwelt in, as in the built<br />

environment. The itinerary of such a practice is similarly<br />

drawn by the visitor to a city or its resident, who goes<br />

to the highest point—a hill, a skyscraper, a tower—to<br />

project herself onto the cityscape, and who also engages<br />

the anatomy of the streets, the city’s underbelly, as she<br />

traverses different urban congurations. Such a multiplicity<br />

of perspectives, a montage of ‘traveling’ shots<br />

with diverse viewpoints and rhythms, also guides the<br />

cinema and its way of site-seeing” (Bruno 2002, p. 62). Like<br />

the tourist who may seek to gain an overview of the realm<br />

that is open to her, the lm viewer is offered a range<br />

of perspectives, which are suggestive of a similar kind<br />

of traversal, and therefore offer a means of situating the<br />

self both spatially and culturally. This act of getting<br />

one’s bearings is all the more stirring, according to<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 166<br />


eference, both questioning and celebrating the ways<br />

in which—despite the mutations our landscapes have<br />

endured—their seasons might still resonate with those<br />

of their inhabitants and visitors.<br />

One might insist that the very concept of landscape<br />

was invented and aesthetically theorized by those classic<br />

artists and painters, and that landscape art and theory<br />

are still living on this legacy. Rohmer’s lms both<br />

conrm and question this statement. If they are obviously<br />

penetrated by this reference and classical culture—both<br />

pictorial and literary—which they occasionally revisit as<br />

in his last opus devoted to L’Astrée (Les amours d’Astrée<br />

et de Céladon, F 2007), they show at the same time that<br />

cinema has considerably reexplored and renewed the<br />

genre, and that contemporary theorists should indeed<br />

mine the exceptionally rich jurisprudence and intelligence<br />

accumulated by the moving image throughout the last<br />

century. In this respect, Rohmer’s trajectory is just an<br />

example among many others, but a particularly consistent<br />

one, which is what we now have to demonstrate.<br />

Posters of the four lms of Eric Rohmers lm series Contes des quatre saisons.<br />

Frédéric Poussin, Les Quatre Saisons, 1660–1664.<br />

Slow <strong>Motion</strong>: The Birth of a Film Director<br />

Rohmer, a specialist of German literature and a writer—he<br />

wrote the novel La Maison d’Elisabeth in 1946—made a<br />

living as a literature teacher for many years in different<br />

colleges. Very early on, he developed a passion for movies<br />

and cinema, which led him to write a doctoral thesis on The<br />

Organization of Space in Murnau’s Faust, later published<br />

as a book, and to become a very prolic lm critic: rst, in<br />

La Gazette du Cinéma, a journal he launched; and then<br />

in the famous Cahiers du Cinéma, where he served as<br />

chief editor from 1957 to 1963. Together with his younger<br />

friends Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, François<br />

Truffaut, and Claude Chabrol—with whom he co-authored<br />

a book on Hitchcock in 1957—he became one of the main<br />

gures of the Nouvelle Vague. It is important to mention<br />

that Rohmer was the eldest of the group, a rather discreet<br />

and reserved person, extremely polite and gentle, absorbed<br />

in his work, with a touch of shyness—but an extreme<br />

dose of independence—very far from the image of the<br />

young wolf of a new generation that was soon attached to<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 178<br />


Other Documentaries, other Mutations<br />

In the following years, Rohmer made several other<br />

documentaries on specic mutations in townscapes<br />

and landscapes. In Une étudiante à Paris (F 1964), for<br />

instance, he described how student life and environment<br />

were changing at the time, showing the new campuses<br />

that were then being built in the periphery (Palaiseau,<br />

Jussieu). The old, famous, and central “Quartier Latin”<br />

was no longer the great ecological niche of knowledge in<br />

the city, but just one among several hubs burgeoning in<br />

a swarming metropolis. Students, likewise, weren’t the<br />

specic horde they used to be, quartered in dedicated<br />

haunts or districts, but male and female bachelors<br />

commuting like other workers between their homes,<br />

“cités,” and their universities or teaching facilities.<br />

Here again, the ambition is to observe rather than<br />

criticize, to bear witness to the ongoing transformations<br />

of life conditions and habits by describing with a kind<br />

of willed (though perplexed) sympathy the new spaces,<br />

architectures, and territories that they produce. Nice<br />

and empathic views of the streamlined and rather desert<br />

subscape of Jussieu. As we saw with Métamorphoses du<br />

Paysage, Rohmer does not conne his testimony to the<br />

urban condition, but extends it well beyond the limits<br />

of the city. In Fermière à Montfaucon (F 1967), a short<br />

documentary where the theme of the four seasons plays a<br />

structural role, he follows a young farmer in her “works<br />

and days” along the year, as she collects the eggs on a cold<br />

early spring morning, drives the harvester through the<br />

wheat elds in summer, picks apples with her husband on<br />

a September evening, and makes errands or deliveries—<br />

either with her light truck on the country roads, or by<br />

foot through the mud and snows of winter. Short hair,<br />

rubber-boots, machines, discreet involvement in the parish<br />

council, meetings at the local chamber of agriculture:<br />

a sober, populated and local portrait of the evolutions<br />

taking place in the rural world.<br />

Investigating the Villes Nouvelles<br />

Interestingly for us, Rohmer’s concern and empathy for<br />

landscapes, territories, cities, and their mutations are not<br />

purely contemplative, but eager to tackle their reasons, to<br />

understand the ways they are or might be addressed and<br />

improved by politics and designers. This profound interest<br />

in the actual making, the studio, and construction site<br />

of our cities and territories is most apparent in the long<br />

documentary Villes Nouvelles (F 1975), which in four<br />

episodes, Rohmer, along with Jean-Paul Pigeat, devoted<br />

to the design of the French Villes Nouvelles in the early<br />

nineteen-seventies. The rst part, entitled “Enfance d’une<br />

ville” (Childhood of a city), documents the development<br />

of Cergy-Pontoise, one of the ve New Towns that were<br />

then being built in the greater Paris area. After a short<br />

introduction by the two authors, the lm begins in the<br />

ofce of the New Town’s Établissement Public, where its<br />

director, sitting or standing in front of the plan, exposes<br />

the main ideas and planning principles. The interview is<br />

regularly interrupted by shots and sequences showing the<br />

territory in question: the old villages still surviving with<br />

the bell tower standing against a cloudy sky; sites under<br />

construction where massive concrete buildings emerge<br />

behind the roofs of suburban pavilions, elds of lettuce<br />

and wheat; conversations on-site with perplexed farmers<br />

whose lands have been reallocated; and, from a vantage<br />

point, a long panoramic sequence over the whole territory<br />

that the Ville Nouvelle—not yet completed but already<br />

rising everywhere—will eventually cover, ending up on<br />

a loop of the Seine where all the farmlands should give<br />

way to Cergy-Pontoise’s Central Park. In this particular<br />

instance, Rohmer’s empathy for the situation and the<br />

burgeoning city is clearly palpable, and it almost feels as if<br />

the documentary was also—unconsciously(?)—a location<br />

scouting expedition: reality morphing into ction. The<br />

second episode, “La diversité du paysage urbain” (The<br />

diversity of the urban landscape), develops as an extensive<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 186<br />


are absorbed in the detail of those scenes, which literally<br />

melt into one another, forming a continuous fabric of<br />

trees, paths, and clearings that you can populate with<br />

dreams and memories. Jean-Baptiste has drawn some<br />

scenes of his childhood memories on a little canvas that<br />

can be superimposed in specic places onto the wallpaper<br />

and be made to t exactly in the landscape.<br />

Sketches for the lm L’anglaise et le duc by Jean-Baptiste Marot.<br />

Wallpaper designed by Jean-Baptiste Marot.<br />

Rem Koolhaas once wrote, speaking of architects and<br />

designers: “We can make things, but not necessarily make<br />

them real” (Koolhaas 1995). What we learn from Rohmer,<br />

and from his careful short-circuits between documentary<br />

and ction, is that there is quite a difference between<br />

faking reality—a tiring spectacle nowadays—and<br />

achieving some degree of poetic verisimilitude. In fact, I<br />

am not sure I have any conclusion to offer, other than my<br />

faith that this combination of documentary and ction,<br />

attention, and imagination could be furthered and fruitfully<br />

emulated in our elds, so as to enlighten the plots<br />

our landscapes are pregnant with. Instead of attempting<br />

to wrap it up, I’ll end my text with some images of wallpaper<br />

that my brother is currently designing. At a certain<br />

distance, it looks like a new kind of “toile de Jouy,” those<br />

garments of repeated decorated patterns that generally<br />

depicted complex pastoral scenes and were very popular<br />

in the late eighteenth century. Except that the interwoven<br />

landscapes are here denser, lled with both banal and<br />

weird industrial constructions, covered by trees, a water<br />

tower, a metro entrance, concrete sheds, a power line steel<br />

pylon, an advertising board, etc. As you get closer, you<br />

Finally, here is an image of his son and one of my daughters<br />

parading as little Rohmerian gures against this<br />

landscaped wall. I hope their generation will count a fair<br />

number of thoughtful Zoes.<br />

References<br />

Elliott, Grace: During the Reign of Terror: Journal of My<br />

Life During the French Revolution, London 1859.<br />

Koolhaas, Rem: “Singapore Songlines.” In: S, M, L, XL.<br />

Rotterdam 1995, p. 1,077.<br />

<strong>Landscript</strong> 1 200<br />


Authors<br />

Elena Cogato Lanza is an architect and Senior<br />

Lecturer at the Laboratory for Construction and<br />

Conservation, Faculty ENAC, EPFL. Her research eld<br />

is characterized by an ongoing intersection between the<br />

history of urbanism and the theory of contemporary<br />

urban and landscape projects. She has been an expert<br />

for the French Ministry of Culture and Communication<br />

in the frame of the interdisciplinary research program<br />

“L’architecture de la grande échelle” and of the<br />

development and research program “Le Grand Pari(s)<br />

de l’agglomération parisienne.” Among her publications:<br />

Maurice Braillard et ses urbanistes, Geneva 2003;<br />

“Exposer l’architecture,” monographic issue of FACES,<br />

journal d’architecture, No. 53, Geneva 2003; Les experts<br />

de la Reconstruction. Figures et stratégies de l’élite<br />

technique dans l’Europe d’après 1945, Geneva 2009.<br />

Robin Curtis, born in Toronto, is Professor for<br />

Theory and Practice of Audiovisual Media at the<br />

Heinrich-Heine-Universität Düsseldorf. She is also<br />

a lmmaker and curator. Her publications include:<br />

Conscientious Viscerality. The Autobiographical Stance<br />

in German Film and Video, Berlin 2006; Einfühlung. Zu<br />

Geschichte und Gegenwart eines ästhetischen Konzepts,<br />

Munich 2008 (with Gertrud Koch); Synästhesie-Effekte.<br />

Zur Intermodalität der ästhetischen Wahrnehmung,<br />

Munich 2011 (with Marc Glöde and Gertrud Koch);<br />

Synchronisierung der Künste, Munich 2012 (with Gertrud<br />

Koch and Marc Siegel, forthcoming).<br />

Eelco Hooftm an was born in 1960 and, together<br />

with Bridget Baines, is co-founder of GROSS. M A X.<br />

<strong>Landscape</strong> Architects. Between 1990 and 2008, he<br />

taught at the School of <strong>Landscape</strong> Architecture at<br />

Edinburgh College of Art and was co-founder of an<br />

innovative post-graduate program Art, Space, and<br />

Nature. Hooftman is visiting studio instructor at GSD,<br />

Harvard and integrates theory and practice of landscape<br />

architecture in an extensive output of international<br />

projects and award-winning competition designs. Current<br />

projects include a Master Plan for Royal Botanic Gardens<br />

Kew, the transformation of Berlin’s former Tempelhof<br />

Airport into a public park, and the design of 800-hectare<br />

park for the city of Chengdu, China.<br />

Janik e K a mpevold Larsen holds a PhD in<br />

Comparative Literature. She is Associate Professor at<br />

the Institute of Urbanism and Design, Oslo School of<br />

Architecture and Design and has been working extensively<br />

on post-phenomenological philosophy, aesthetics,<br />

and in literary texts with productive descriptions of<br />

reality and particularly landscape. Her PhD is on the<br />

Norwegian writer Tor Ulven and the dynamics between<br />

imagination and description in literary texts.<br />

Sébastien M a rot was born in Paris in 1961. He<br />

holds a PhD in History. Between 1995 and 2003 he<br />

founded and edited the journal Le Visiteur. Marot is<br />

a founding member and a Professor of the Ecole d’architecture<br />

de la ville & des territoires de Marne-la-Vallée,<br />

where he is also the editorial director. He has taught in<br />

various schools of architecture or landscape in Europe and<br />

North America including the Architectural Association<br />

School of Architecture in London, ETH Zurich, Harvard<br />

University, and Cornell University. His writings and<br />

research on landscape architecture were awarded the<br />

Médaille de l’analyse architecturale in 2004 and with the<br />

Prix de la recherche in 2010, both from the Académie<br />

d’architecture Française. He edited the French issue of<br />

essays by André Corboz, Le Territoire comme palimpseste,<br />

Paris 2001; translated the essays of John Brinckerhoff<br />

Jackson, La Nécessité des Ruines et autres sujets, Paris<br />

2004; and is the author of L’Art de la mémoire, le territoire<br />

et l’architecture, Paris 2010 (published in English as<br />

Sub-Urbanism and the Art of Memory, London 2003).<br />

Volk er Pantenburg is Assistant Professor of<br />

Moving Images at the Bauhaus University Weimar<br />

and Junior Director of the Internationales Kolleg<br />

für Medienphilosophie und Kulturtechnikforschung<br />

(IK K M). His book publications include Film als Theorie.<br />

Bildforschung bei Harun Farocki und Jean-Luc Godard,<br />

Bielefeld 2006; Ränder des Kinos. Godard–Benning–<br />

Wiseman–Costa, Köln 2010 and Screen Dynamics.<br />

Mapping the Boders of Cinema, Vienna 2012 (co-editor).<br />

Frédéric Pousin is an architect, Director of<br />

research at CNRS, and Professor at the National<br />

Superior School of <strong>Landscape</strong> in Versailles where he is<br />

director of the school’s research laboratory. His research<br />

focuses on urban landscapes and the epistemological<br />

value of visuality in architecture and urbanism. His<br />

writings have appeared in Annales de la recherche urbaine,<br />

Carnets du paysage, Cahiers de la recherche architecturale<br />

et urbaine, Rassegna and Werk, Bauen + Wohnen. His<br />

books include Signes, Histoire, Fictions. Autour de Louis<br />

Marin, Paris 2003 (with Sylvie Robic); Figures de la<br />

ville et construction des savoirs, architecture, urbanisme,<br />

géographie, Paris 2005; and Paysage urbain: genèse,<br />

représentations, enjeux contemporains, Paris 2007 (with<br />

Helena Jannière).<br />

Christi an Schmid is Professor of Sociology at<br />

the Department of Architecture of ETH Zurich and<br />

researcher at ETH Studio Basel, Switzerland. He is<br />

the author of Stadt, Raum und Gesellschaft: Henri<br />

Lefebvre und die Produktion des Raumes, Stuttgart<br />

2005, and co-author of Switzerland—An Urban Portrait,<br />

Basel-Boston-Berlin 2007 (with Roger Diener, Jacques<br />

Herzog, Marcel Meili, Pierre de Meuron). His writing<br />

and teaching focus on theories of space and urbanization,<br />

comparative urban studies, and urban social movements.<br />


Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!