Built to Meet Needs: Cultural Issues in Vernacular Architecture

Paul Oliver

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781136424045
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Architektur
• Subtopic: Architektur Allgemein

The study of vernacular architecture explores the characteristics of domestic buildings in particular regions or localities, and the many social and cultural factors that have contributed to their evolution. In this book, vernacular architecture specialist Paul Oliver brings together a wealth of information that spans over two decades, and the whole globe. Some previously unpublished papers, as well as those only available in hard to find conference proceedings, are brought together in one volume to form a fascinating reference for students and professional architects, as well as all those involved with planning housing schemes in their home countries and overseas.

Part I

Defining the Field

1

Why Study Vernacular Architecture? (1978)

A score of years ago, there were very few schools of architecture in Europe or the United States where it was possible to study the buildings of tribal, folk or peasant cultures. Today a number of colleges include studies in vernacular architecture in the curriculum, and some schools in Africa, Latin America and the East are encouraging serious investigation into the built forms of the indigenous peoples of their countries. If the colleges and the architects who staff them, have introduced the subject into the spectrum of studies considered appropriate to the education of intending architects, we can be justified in assuming that they have firm grounds for doing so. Yet, as I visit different colleges in various parts of the world I am by no means certain that they have good reason for including this work; nor do I see much agreement in the way in which it should be approached.

When I joined the staff of the Architectural Association in the early 1960s, students in the first year were expected to make a model of some form of tribal or folk shelter – an Eskimo igloo in small sections of polystyrene perhaps, or a Colombian lake dwelling with its stilts standing on a mirror, and with chopped straw to imitate its thatch. No students at the school would make such a model today, but they might be deeply involved in the restoration of a crofter’s cottage in the Scottish Highlands, or documenting the house types of the Southern Sudan through extensive travelling, drawing and photographing. Attitudes to the subject have changed, but it is still thought valuable to be involved in it, even though the reasons for considering such work important in architectural education are not expressed. It seems to me that it is necessary now to ask the question: ‘Why study vernacular architecture?’

This question invites another: ‘What do we mean by “Vernacular Architecture”?’ Unfortunately it is not an easy question to answer; we can do much more by example than by definition. The etymological roots of the word ‘architect’, from the Greek arkhi- and tekton, mean ‘chief builder’, while ‘architecture’ is defined as the ‘science of building’. The word ‘vernacular’ derives from the Latin vernaculus, meaning ‘native’, so the definition ‘native science of building’ is really quite appropriate. In usage however, ‘vernacular’ generally refers to language or dialect of a people, while architecture is given a qualitative status. To bring some measure of neutrality into the terms used I suggested ‘shelter’, which laid emphasis on the common motivation for the building of all the structures that man inhabits. I admit that it is not a satisfactory word, for it has associations of the rudimentary rather than the complex, the utilitarian rather than the aesthetically pleasing. In using the generally accepted phrase ‘vernacular architecture’, I am embracing all the types of building made by people in tribal, folk, peasant and popular societies where an architect, or specialist designer, is not employed. To me, so general a term is only of limited value and I am working on a more useful and accurate terminology, which I hope to introduce at a later date.

One reason why I think that a definition of the terms we use is important goes right to the heart of the subject. Students, teachers or professionals involved in architecture are concerned with the design process, whereby a specific set of solutions is posed to an architectural problem. The problem is usually the ‘brief’; the solutions are co-ordinated into a ‘design’ or ‘scheme’, but it is evident to me that in the vernacular, this is hardly ever the case. An African man may describe a circle on the ground with a stick at arm’s length which will constitute the plan of his dwelling, and he may mark out the boundary of his yard. However, when he builds he will use traditional forms, employ the technology of his ancestors and may have his hut plastered and decorated by his wife, with designs that are symbolic to his people and immediately identifiable with them. A limited degree of design is involved but the architectural solutions have been arrived at over generations. They may be subtly modified or developed in time, but as responses to experience of conditions and use rather than by the application of rigorous method, analysis of the problems involved, or even by the ‘lateral thinking’ that we call inspiration. On the other hand, the vernacular owner-builders will dig and puddle their own clay, mix it with straw and dung, mould the walls, cut the poles, harvest and trim the straw, construct and thatch the roof – build in fact, their own houses. We may seek to gain a little experience on site during training, but we do not expect to build every structure we design. Both at the design and the implementation stages the processes of formal architecture and vernacular architecture are very different; so I am obliged to repeat the question which forms the title of this chapter: ‘Why study vernacular architecture?’

Figure 1.1 A dwelling of the Southern Sotho, with fine thatch and its earth wall decorated on the windward side with coloured stones. Lesotho, Southern Africa.

Figure 1.2 ‘Puddling’ or treading clay and water, to achieve the appropriate consistency for building. Antipolo, Philippines.

Up to now I have used the word ‘we’ several times to denote those involved in the studying, teaching or practice of architecture. Yet there are many who examine vernacular architecture who are none of these. It may help us to consider briefly why they study the subject – especially as we are so dependent on the results of their research. A substantial proportion of them have been amateurs rather than professionals, or they have been missionaries, district commissioners, even army surveyors. Their methods have not been those of architects and their motivations to study tribal, folk or peasant peoples have been quite different. Often, shelter plays a small part in their research, which has been intended to serve other purposes. In summarizing a few of them, I will consider the approaches taken, rather than the disciplines that such researchers represent. Of these, the first is an approach to pure research, with the sole purpose of extending the sum of human knowledge. The scrutiny of all aspects of an unfamiliar society, including its building, is pursued as an end in itself unjustified by any reasons related to its application or usefulness. The assumption is that with the knowledge gained, applications may follow, but this is unknowable until the knowledge has been acquired. This approach, although unusual in architecture, has its merits, for it means that in theory the data obtained are not prejudiced by underlying motives. Akin to this, but with the advantage of methodological techniques, is the approach of the anthropologist. Within this field objectivity is sought, although the ‘observer paradox’ is recognized: the very presence of the anthropologist makes it impossible to write an account of a society in its virgin state. Building techniques, the preparation of materials, the naming of parts, the functions of spaces and the symbolism of shelter may occasionally be recorded in the anthropological approach, even though some of the factors of special interest to architects, such as structural principles or the perception of spaces within a building, may not be revealed. If anthropology is ‘the study of man’, it should also be the subject of study of its own various disciplines: a social anthropologist is likely to come up with different information about a society and its architecture than one who is concerned with the documentation of material culture.

Among non-literate societies history often takes the form of myth, having a symbolic truth important to the people concerned, rather than being verifiable, factual evidence. The history of a building type has often to be inferred, or deduced from archaeological remains, when other data are not available. Shelter constructed of stone can leave more tangible evidence than that made from woven matting or wattle and mud. Archaeology is contributing to the study of early forms of vernacular building even though the evidence of long vacated sites is open to misinterpretation, or subject to wide approximations as to the numbers of occupants and the date or duration of occupancy. The archaeological approach is concerned with origins and the uncovering of primitive roots of a culture; historians apply themselves to the analysis of the material and documentary evidence of the past, reconstructing it in patterns that have their own logic. An inordinate emphasis has been placed in history studies on nations and states, on battles and conquerors, on kings, princes and prelates. As vassals and serfs, the bulk of the population has been acknowledged but, until recently, the culture of the majority has received little attention. Now, however, many historians are trying to understand the lives, economies, culture and social structures of the common people. If the written record in many cases is limited, much of the other evidence may remain with us, including weapons, artifacts of pottery and metal, items of clothing and adornment, and the essentials of shelter.

Figure 1.3 Archaeological evidence of Middle Bronze Age granite ‘hut circles’. Grimspound on Dartmoor, Devon, England.

One reason for this recent trend has been political; Marxist historians have had good reason to investigate the culture of the working classes. Their researches have helped to restore some balance in historical studies and have undoubtedly influenced even those who do not share their political persuasion. Analogous to this has been the rise of young historians in developing countries, who have been examining their traditional institutions with an enthusiasm and pride which was not present in the years of humiliation and colonization. One outcome of these changes in historical method and motivation has been the conservation of old and traditional buildings. Museums of folk-life with artifacts assembled in conserved examples of vernacular architecture have developed since the 1930s in most European countries and in the United States; some countries in the developing world, anxious to reawaken pride in the indigenous cultures are following this lead. Like folkloric ballets and concerts, such museums are inclined to be idealized, but they are generally supported by thorough research into the vernacular architecture of the cultures concerned. Much is learned about the buildings from their dismantling and reassembly, and they continue to serve an important educational function.

Of course, there is a romantic interest in traditional buildings which is antiquarian, and sometimes, purely nostalgic. Vernacular architecture can offer shelter from the realities of the present, and encouragement to those who believe that life in past centuries was better than life today; or that traditional buildings, no matter how insanitary, damp, smoke-filled or insect-infested they may have been, were superior to housing here and now. Less conspicuous, but perhaps as sentimental in its emotional source, is the ‘low culture’ attitude which idealizes popular and folk culture at the expense of ‘high culture’. Resentment at the values placed on sophisticated and complex art and architecture, which appear to esteem the intellect at the expense of feeling, encourages a neoprimitivist view. Rousseau’s image of the ‘noble savage’ survives in an uncritical admiration of all that is regarded as naive or unsophisticated. At the extremes of this position there are no criteria and no values.

Figure 1.4 A house wall painted with animal motifs. National Museum of Handicrafts, Delhi, which includes a collection of Indian indigenous building traditions.

In contrast to this subjectivity is the pragmatism of the geographer who considers settlement in relation to resources. The availability of building materials, the capacity of the land to support a population, the kind of economy that evolves and the trading relationships with other communities that can be identified – all these have direct bearing on the kind, form, location and density of buildings. Other factors also have bearing on vernacular form, especially the effects of climate which have to be controlled, modified or utilized. Further particularization of the approaches that have revealed to us much of what we know about vernacular architecture, is probably unnecessary: for the present purposes I have indicated sufficiently, I trust, the degree to which we are indebted to the amateur and professional researchers, anthropologists, historians, political theorists, antiquarians and geographers for much of the knowledge that we have of the subject. Perhaps we can recognize ourselves in some of them; if we respond favourably to the work of some and with less interest, or even uncomprehendingly, to the work of others we are probably acknowledging how much they have influenced our own attitudes. They all have reasons for studying vernacular architecture, and most of them are valid. So the question now is, ‘Why should architects, and architectural students, study vernacular architecture?’ Let us look first, at some of the ways in which architects use their study of the subject.

Few historians are architects, although a number of architects have become historians. One of the most important ways in which they apply their study of vernacular architecture is in the service of the historian. With the acquisition of knowledge of traditional building, architects can play an essential role in conservation. Their advice is sought not only in the selection of structures or complexes that should be saved, restored or removed for conservation elsewhere, but also for professional advice on the way in which these measures are undertaken. Whereas architectural conservation has a long history in relation to palaces, cathedrals, churches and the residences of the gentry, the conservation of modest peasant and yeoman buildings has been more by default than by policy. Losses sustained through wars, t...