JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE

E-ISSN: 2757-6329
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING

Special Issue:
Cinema & Architecture
Page | i

Dossier Editor-in-Chief
Havva Alkan Bala (Prof. Dr.)

Dossier Co-Editors
Gül Kaçmaz Erk
(Dr. Senior Lecturer at Queen’s University Belfast)
Işıl Baysan Serim
(SINETOPYA Architecture, City and Film Atelier)
Editor-in-Chief and Publisher
Mehmet Topçu (Assoc. Prof. Dr.)

Editorial
Havva Alkan Bala (Editor)

The special issue of the JOURNAL of DESIGN for RESILIENCE in ARCHITECTURE and PLANNING (DRArch)
with the theme "Cinema & Architecture” was published on the last days of December 2022 under the co-
editorship of Dr. Gül Kaçmaz Erk (Queens University Belfast) and Işıl Baysan Serim (SINETOPYA Architecture, City
and Film Atelier). I led the project as the issue editor. This special issue is our New Year gift to the world of
science.

Many architects are interested in films and incorporating filmic language, narrative and spatial theory
into their designs and philosophies. The special issue of DRArch on "Cinema & Architecture" includes a discussion
of the interaction of cinema, city and/or architecture and this special issue has become a real and unique issue
with the power of visuality of cinema and mathematical rhythm of architecture. In the exciting journey of the
special issue, researchers who conduct prestigious academic studies on cinema have accompanied DRARCH.
François Penz (Cambridge University), Keiichi Ogata (Tokyo) and Graham Cairns (Director of the Academic
Research Organisation AMPS-Architecture, Media, Politics, Society) are among the authors of the special issue.
Researchers from different geographies of the world such as Florida, Jerusalem, Edinburgh, Melbourne, Athens
and Ireland also contributed to the special issue. I hope that the articles in this issue of DRArch will deepen
research in cinema, architecture, design and planning and inspire new research.

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
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The first study is an essay written by François Penz who is a Professor of Architecture and the Moving
Image in the Faculty of Architecture and History of Art at the University of Cambridge where he directs the Digital
Studio for Research in Design, Visualization and Communication. He is also the Director of The Martin Centre for
Architectural and Urban Studies. Moreover, he co-edited a book on Cinematic Urban Geographies published by
Palgrave MacMillan in 2016. François Penz, in his essay titled "What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021" shared his
experiences about a workshop in Venice – VENICINEMA, Understanding Cities Through Film – in September 2022
at the European Cultural Academy. The aim of this workshop was to engage the participants’ interest in the
Page | ii
various facets of the relationship between cinema and Venice, providing an opportunity to reflect on its
characterisation in the movies. The study of Venetian narrative films not only opened the path to an innovative
reflection on the complexity of the city as experience but also provided a basic understanding of screen language
that enabled participants to make their own short films.

A fascinating piece of work comes from Keiichi Ogata with an article titled “A reflection on cinematic
architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues”. Keiichi Ogata is an educator, an architect
and an urbanist based in Tokyo and Director of Cinématic Architecture Tokyo. The article begins with the question
of what can be found in the integration of architecture and cinema and continues exploring light in the context
of cinematic architecture theory. This is followed by a discussion of the illusions of light that emerge in spaces
where cinema and architecture meet.

Graham Cairns’s paper titled “Sustaining Cultures through Cinematic Space -The Historical Continuance
of Art and Architectural Traditions in 20 C Film” argues that the idea of film as a medium has been used to
celebrate, develop and ultimately sustain cultural traditions. Dr. Graham Cairns is an academic and author in the
field of architecture who has written extensively on film, advertising and political communication. He has held
Visiting Professor positions at universities in Spain, the UK, Mexico, the Gambia, South Africa and the US. He has
worked in architectural studios in London and Hong Kong and previously founded and ran a performing arts
organisation, Hybrid Artworks, specialised in video installation and performance writing. He is also the author
and editor of several books and various articles on architecture as both a form of visual culture and a socio-
political construct. He is currently the director of the academic research organisation AMPS (Architecture, Media,
Politics, Society).

Another interesting paper deals with developments in computer and communication technologies,
which constitute the starting point of concepts such as decentralization, virtuality, simulation, augmented reality
and metaverse. Murat Aytas and Aytekin Can are graduates of the Department of Radio, Cinema, and Television,
Faculty of Communication, so this new spatial issue has been evaluated from the point of view of the filmmaker.
Prof. Dr. Aytekin Can is the Head of Department of Radio, Television and Cinema, Faculty of Communication,
Selcuk University and he is the author of chapters in books Children and Cartoons, Short-Films, as well as Writings
on Documentary Film and Cinema Illuminating History. He has acted as a production-management consultant
for many award-winning documentaries and short films. He has been the director of the Kısa-ca Inte rnational
Student Film Festival for nineteen years. He is the founder and consultant of Selçuk University Kısa-ca Film
Atölyesi, which has attained many national and international successes. With the support of the General
Directorate of Cinema, he undertook the production and management of the documentary films Visitor Gertrude
Bell from Oxford and Old Konya Cinemas. The article titled “From Real Spaces to Virtual Spaces: The Metaverse
and Decentralized Cinema” focuses on the possible future transformations of cinema in terms of production and
representation in the context of the relationship of virtual and augmented reality technologies with the
developing areas of metaverse. It has been concluded in the study that the metaverse area has many advantages
in terms of the production of cinematic works, democratization of the production and distribution of works,
digital privacy and security for metaverse artists, and recognition of ownership for digital works of art.

Christopher S. Wilson contributed to this issue with the following article; “A Survey of the
Representation of Modern Architecture in the Cinema”. This article surveys these two opposite representations
of Modern architecture in the cinema, beginning from its first appearance in the 1920s until today. Films directed
by Marcel L’Herbier (The Inhuman Woman, 1924), Alfred Hitchcock (North by Northwest, 1959), Jacques Tati
(Mon Oncle, 1958, and Playtime, 1967), Jean-Luc Godard (Contempt, 1963, Alphaville, 1965, and Two or Three

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
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IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING

Things I Know About Her, 1967), as well as several from the James Bond series (Dr. No [Terence Young, 1962],
Goldfinger [Guy Hamilton, 1964], and Diamonds are Forever [Guy Hamilton, 1971]) are highlighted. Culminating
in a survey of like-minded films since the 1980s, the article concludes that Modern architecture in the cinema is
here to stay and will continue to play an integral role in the making of films.

Space settlement as a science fiction theme has been examined by Salih Ceylan in a research titled
“Architectural Evolution of Space Settlements in Cinema and Television”. This paper presents an analysis of the Page | iii
architectural evolution of space stations and settlements in cinema and TV through examples in a chronological
order from the 1950s to 2000s. The analysis is based on the relationship of scientific requirements of a space
settlement and existing scientific studies on the design of space settlements with their reflections on the cinema
and television industries. The outcomes of the analysis suggest that the detail level, functionality, and
architectural style of space settlements in movies evolved through time. Therefore, architects’ role in movies and
the design of space settlements will increase thanks to the developments in representation, production, and
construction technologies.

Hamid Khalili and AnnMarie Brennan contributed to the special issue with the article “A Failure in
Resilience: The Corrupting Influence of Postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers”, which they co-
authored as two colleagues. This article offers an opportunity to revisit significant locations of the film such as
Quartiere Fabio Filzi, the Alfa Romeo Factory, Milan Duomo, Ponte Della Ghisolfa, Parco Sempione, Stazione
Centrale and Circolo Arci Bellezza. The article demonstrates how urban and architectural spaces not only
accommodated the narrative of the film but shaped, twisted and structured the story of the masterpiece. The
paper shows how Visconti succeeded in visualizing a ‘hidden’ Milan that had never appeared on the silver screen
before Rocco and His Brothers.

Yannis Mitsou, who holds a Ph.D. in film philosophy, teaches Film Narrative in the Creative Writing MA
of the Humanities Department at Teaching Associate in the Hellenic Open University. He contributed to this issue
with an article titled “Existential Themes and Motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s Films: The Notions of Space and
Transcendence”. In this article Andrei Tarkovsky’s films are studied through the lens of existential philosophical
traditions. At the heart of Tarkovsky’s narratives lies a yearning for authenticity, a need for freedom and an
intention to communicate with otherness in its various manifestations.

The panopticon basically ensures the ubiquity of power by seeing it unseen. Azime Cantaş and Aytekin
Can discussed the Panopticon theory in an article titled “Justification of Panopticon in Superhero Movies: The
Batman Movie”. This article aims to reveal how panoptiism, a particular mode of disciplinary power used by
Foucault, is normalized in superhero films. The narrator of The Batman (2022) is Batman, and the narrative begins
with the superhero reading his diary. In the film, it is determined that Gotham city has been transformed into a
panoptic universe and Batman, who watches over this universe, is in the position of a guard.

Dr. Clíona Brady has been a lecturer in Architecture in Yeats’ Academy of Arts, Design and Architecture
at the Atlantic Technological University in Sligo since 2004. Clíona Brady and Gul Kacmaz Erk, the dossier co-
editor, contributed to the issue with an article named ‘Is It Me, or Is It Getting Crazier Out There?’: The Psyche
of the Interior in Joker: An analysis of Psychological Space in Todd Phillips Joker (2019) through Collage”. With
work/life experiences in Ireland, Netherlands, Turkey, UK and USA, Gul Kacmaz Erk has been conducting research
in ‘architecture and cinema’ and ‘architecture and forced migration’. Before joining Queen’s Architecture in 2011,
she worked as a licenced architect in Istanbul/Amsterdam, researched at University of Pennsylvania and
University College Dublin, and taught at Philadelphia University, TUDelft and Izmir University of Economics. She
holds BArch (METU), MArch (METU) and PhD (ITU) degrees in Architecture, directs Cinema and Architecture in
the City research group (www.cacity.org), organises Walled Cities film festivals, and conducts urban filmmaking
workshops. Gül is a Senior Lecturer at Queen’s University Belfast, a programme director of MSc Advanced
Architectural Design, a member of RIBA Validation Panel and an associate fellow of Senator George J. Mitchell
Institute for Global Peace, Security and Justice. This article addresses the frequent oversight of psychological
qualities of the interior in architectural discourse through an analytical and experimental method, rendering the
psychological content of space visible.

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
E-ISSN: 2757-6329
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING

The final study is also invited essay written by Işıl Baysan Serim. The essay titled as “Knowledge and
Power Relations In a Migration Storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive” is about the concepts of
"worldization" or/and "world-image". Serim claims that the intersection of cinema, architecture and storytelling
as an act of thinking about "world-building" and “Flashdrive” does not just give us a refugee camp story; also
maps the spatio-temporal distinctions of the survival journey.

When technique and aesthetics come together, inspiration becomes durable. We are entering the New Page | iv
Year with the pleasure of aesthetics and the confidence of technique with this special issue. I would like to extend
my deepest gratitude to all the participants and all our readers for the support they provide to the Journal. I
would also like to express my special thanks to the referees. In conclusion, I can proudly say that this special issue
of DRArch has created a discussion platform that brings cinema and architecture together with an independent
and universal stance extending to different geographies.

I wish happiness and peace to the whole world. Best regards…

The following names are people who provided valuable contribution as to this issue referees of articles:

Antigone Vlavianou Detzortzi, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), School of Humanities

Asu Beşgen, (Prof. Dr.), Karadeniz Technical University
Aydın Çam, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Çukurova University
Ayşe İrem Mayo Kiriş, (Prof. Dr.), Bahçeşehir University
Daphna E. Half, Israel Institute of Technology
Ebru Erdoğan, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Selcuk University
Emre Ahmet Seçmen, (Assist. Prof. Dr.), Beykoz University
Ersan Yıldız, Yıldız Technical University University
Gamze Konca, (Architect) Bahçeşehir University
Halim Esen, (Prof. Dr.), Adnan Menderes University
H. Kurtuluş Özgen, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Ankara Hacı Bayram Veli University
Mehmet Emre Arslan, (Assist. Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Kültür University
Mehmet Şener, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Kocaeli University
Mustafa Aslan, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Sakarya University
Niki-Chara Banacou-Karagouni, (Assist. Prof. Dr.)
Selin Yıldız, (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Yıldız Technical University

Cover photo: Image copyright ©Sena Özfiliz, İstanbul, (2022). The image on the left is detail " A scene from Stanley Kubrick
exhibition at Istanbul Cinema Museum- 2022” Cover and logo design: Mojtaba Karimnezhad

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
E-ISSN: 2757-6329
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING

DRArch's objectives are:

- to question how future building technologies are revolutionizing architectural design, city
planning, urban design, landscape design, industrial design, interior design and education, Page | v

- to catalyze the processes that lean on interdisciplinary and collaborative design thinking, creating
a resilient thinking culture,

- to improve the quality of built environment by encouraging greater cooperation among

academicians, analysts and specialists to share their experiences and answer for issues in various
areas, which distributes top-level work,

- to discover the role of the designers and design disciplines -architecture, city planning, urban
design, landscape design, industrial design, interior design, education and art in creating building
and urban resilience,

- to retrofit the existing urban fabric to produce resilience appears and to support making and using
technology within the building arts,

- to discuss academic issues about digital life and its built-up environments, internet of space, digital
in architecture, digital data in design, digital fabrication, software development in architecture,
photogrammetry software, information technology in architecture, Archi-Walks, virtual design,
cyber space, experiences through simulations, 3D technology in design, robotic construction, digital
fabrication, parametric design and architecture, Building Information Management (BIM),
extraterrestrial architecture, artificial intelligence (AI) systems, Energy efficiency in buildings,
digitization of human, digitization of the construction, manufacturing, collaborative design, design
integration, the accessibility of mobile devices and sensors, augmented reality applications, GPS,
emerging materials and new constructions techniques,

-to express new technology in architecture and planning for parametric urban design, real estate
development and design, parametric smart planning (PSP), more human-centered products,
sustainable development, sustainable cities, smart cities, vertical cities, urban morphology, urban
aesthetics and townscape, urban structure and form, urban transformation, local and regional
identity, design control and guidance, property development, practice and implementation.

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
E-ISSN: 2757-6329
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Editorial Team
Editor-in-Chief
Mehmet Topçu (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Konya Technical University, Turkey
Co-Editors
Havva Alkan Bala (Prof. Dr.), Çukurova University, Turkey
Page | vi
Ayşe Sema Kubat (Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
International Editorial Board
Yasushi Asami (Prof. Dr.), Tokyo University, Japan
T. Nur Çağlar (Prof. Dr.), TOOB ETÜ University of Economics & Technology, Turkey
Nuran Zeren Gülersoy (Prof. Dr.), Işık University, Turkey
Hakan Gürsu (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Middle East Technical University, Turkey
Mattias Kärrholm (Prof. Dr.), Lund University, Sweden
Stanislaw Korenik (Prof. Dr.), Wroclaw Economy University, Poland
Katarzyna Miszczak (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Wroclaw Economy University, Poland
Akkelies van Nes (Prof. Dr.), Western Norway University of Applied Sciences, Norway
Taner Oc (Prof. Dr.), University College London, UK
Sevil Sarıyıldız (Prof. Dr.), Delft University of Technology, NL
Michael Southworth (Prof. Dr.), University of California, Berkeley, USA
Guiseppe Strappa (Prof. Dr.), Roma University, Italy

International Advisory Board

Hakan Anay (Prof. Dr.), Eskişehir Osmangazi University, Turkey
Kerem Yavuz Arslanlı (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
Burak Asiliskender (Prof. Dr.), Abdullah Gül University, Turkey
Suzie Attiwill (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), RMIT University, Australia
Tüzin Baycan (Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
Suha Berberoğlu (Prof. Dr.), Çukurova University, Turkey
Alper Çabuk (Prof. Dr.), Eskisehir Technical University, Turkey
Olgu Çalışkan (Assoc. Prof. Dr.) Middle East Technical University, Turkey
Fehmi Doğan (Prof. Dr.), İzmir Institute of Technology, Turkey
Ervin Garip (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
Kağan Günçe (Prof. Dr.), Eastern Mediterranean University, N. Cyprus
H. Emre Ilgın (Dr.), Tampere University, Finland
Yasemin İnce Güney (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Balıkesir University, Turkey
Feray Koca (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), Mugla Sıtkı Kocaman University, Turkey
Esra Kurul (Dr.), Oxford Brookes University, UK
Ozan Önder Özener (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
Maria Rita Pais (Prof. Dr.), Universidade Lusofana Humanidades e Tecnologias, Portugal
Nikolas Patsavos (Assoc. Prof. Dr.), University of Ioannina, Greece
Ali A. Raouf (Prof. Dr.), HBK University, Qatar
Fazilet Duygu Saban (Prof. Dr.), Çukurova University, Turkey
Tasleem Shakur (Dr.), Edge Hill University, UK
Todor Stojanovski (Dr.), KTH Royal Institute of Technology, Sweden
Asuman Türkün (Prof. Dr.), Yıldız Technical University, Turkey
Tolga Ünlü (Prof. Dr.), Çukurova University, Turkey
Derya Yorgancıoğlu (Assist. Prof. Dr.), Özyeğin University, Turkey

Language Editor
Mehmet Ulu, Selcuk University, Turkey
Copy Editor
Oğuz Güven Ateş, Konya Technical University, Turkey
Publishing Coordinator
Abdulkadir Saday, Selcuk University, Turkey
Photo Editor
Sena Özfiliz, (Architect), İstanbul Technical University, Turkey
Graphic Designer
Mojtaba Karimnezhad, Eastern Mediterranean University, N. Cyprus
*sorted by last name

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE
E-ISSN: 2757-6329
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING

Table of Contents

Page | vii
Research Articles Pages

Editorial and Contents

İ-Vİ
What I saw in Venice - Biennale 2021
François Penz
01-08

A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues
Keiichi Ogata 09-28

Sustaining Cultures through Cinematic Space -The Historical Continuance of Art and Architectural
Traditions in 20 C Film 29-48
Graham Cairns

From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema
Murat Aytas, Aytekin Can 49-59

A survey of the representation of modern architecture in the cinema

Christopher S. Wilson 60-65

Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

Salih Ceylan 66-78

Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Liat Savin Ben Shoshan 79-96

A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers
Hamid Khalili, AnnMarie Brennan 97-112

Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films: The notions of space and transcendence
Yannis Mitsou 113-121

Justification of panopticon in superhero movies: The Batman Movie

Azime Cantaş, Aytekin Can 122-135

‘Is it me, or is it getting crazier out there?’: The psyche of the interior in Joker: An analysis of
psychological space in Todd Phillips Joker (2019) through collage
Cliona Brady, Gul Kacmaz Erk 136-159

Knowledge and Power Relations: In a Migration Storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive 160-169
Işıl Baysan Serim

DRArch / Volume 3, Special Issue, published 30 December 2022 / Doi prefix: 10.47818 / E-mail: info@drarch.org, editor@drarch.org / Online: www.drarch.org
 Essay
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (01-08), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si067

What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021

François Penz*

Abstract

François Penz, in his essay titled as "What I saw in Venice – biennale 2021" shared his
experiences about workshop in Venice – VENICINEMA, Understanding Cities Through Film
– in September 2022 at the European Cultural Academy. To get to know a city though
cinema is always an enjoyable and informative task, which varies depending on whether
one has a prior knowledge of the city or not. But a prior knowledge of a city through film
can only provide a ‘theoretical’ insight that only gets ‘realised’ while actually being
physically present in time and place. In other words, ‘watching a city film can be a three-
way process: we see a film and gain a knowledge of a city; we then visit this city and
experience a form of déja vu; we then watch the film again and the experience of having
seen the place acts as a memory recall that gives a much stronger emotional connection to
both the film and the city. Venice offers a layered richness of experience through cinema
as a place to be discovered not only for foreigners but even for Italians. The aim of this
workshop was to engage the participants’ interest in the various facets of the relationship
between cinema and Venice, the opportunity to reflect on its characterisation in the
movies. The study of Venetian narrative films not only opened the path to an innovative
reflection on the complexity of the city as experience but also provide a basic understanding
of screen language that equipped participants to make their own short films.

Keywords: Venice Biennale, Venicinema

As I am about to embark in running a second film workshop in Venice – VENICINEMA,

Understanding Cities Through Film – in September 2022 at the European Cultural Academy1, it is
the opportunity here to reflect on what I saw and did in Venice in September 2021. It constitutes a
record of what took place around this event – although it is in no way comprehensive.
Venice is a city that even the Italians visit as if it were a foreign city. As for foreigners...there's
every kind of foreigner. Everyone brings their own homage. Their own admiration. Their curiosity.
Their anxiety. Their complacency. Their avidity. Wishing to be in Venice. Wishing for having been in
Venice. Voice-over in Giro turistico senza guida [Unguided Tour aka Letter from Venice] (Susan

*(Corresponding author)., Architect, University of Cambridge, United Kingdom, fp12@cam.ac.uk

Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
F. Penz / What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021

Sontag, USA/Italy, 1983). While in Venice in September 2021 on the occasion of the Venice -
Singapore cinematic workshop, part of the Architecture Biennale, I often had the opportunity to
reflect on Sontag’s remarks for myself but for others around me. Being a city even foreign to Italians,
I wondered if Venice could be construed as a form of heterotopia, transcending time and place, and
yet a city that belongs to the collective imagination of the world. Clearly what had motivated the
students, myself and my colleagues to join the workshop at that particular moment time, was
Page | 2
driven by personal motives and a strong desire to be in Venice. This wish transcended any potential
risks and other tedious travel restrictions associated with the ongoing pandemic. And yet if we had
been re-watching Death in Venice (Visconti, Italy, 1971), as I did, we would have been warned by a
poignant scene between Aschenbach - aka Dirk Bogarde – and the bank clerk who did not mince his
words ‘Asiatic cholera has shown a marked tendency to spread beyond its source…but when you
consider the vulnerability of Venice, with its lagoons and its scirocco...Do you know that in the
hospitals, there's not a single free bed to be had’. In the event the Biennale organisation was
impeccably safe, and we were all able to enjoy a time outside time that we will all cherish for a long
time.

Figure 1 Venice participants at the start of the workshop (from L to R: Reuben, Angel, François, Shireen, Karolina,
Sumaiyah) (https://europeanculturalacademy.com/courses/architecture/venicinema)

And so, I embarked in this workshop, initially teasing out of cinema a reflection on what Venice
perhaps was and is. To get to know a city though cinema is always an enjoyable and informative
task, which varies depending on whether one has a prior knowledge of the city or not. For example,
when I first visited Japan in 2018, I had studied quite a few Japanese films, particularly by Ozu. It
gave me an instant sense of familiarity with some urban sights of Tokyo as well as domestic
interiors. I experienced the same feeling while visiting New York for the first time. This is what could
be described as a sense of déja-vu. But a prior knowledge of a city through film can only provide a
‘theoretical’ insight that only gets ‘realised’ while actually being physically present in time and
place. In other words ‘watching a city film can be a three-way process: we see a film and gain a
knowledge of a city; we then visit this city and experience a form of déja vu; we then watch the film
again and the experience of having seen the place acts as a memory recall that gives a much
stronger emotional connection to both the film and the city’ (Penz 2018, 54).
Venice is a city I have visited several times, also my wife being Venetian gives me an added
personal bond to the place. So, no sense of déja-vu in this case but as I watched quite a few films
while in Venice, and since I have returned to Cambridge, I feel a much closer relationships with the
city through the cinematic locations that I could recognize. For example, in Pane e Tulipani [Bread
and Tulips] (Soldini, Italy, 2000), the characters of Rosalba and Constantino were meeting in Campo
do Pozzi, a square I became familiar with, being so close to my flat, and a key site in Corto Maltese’s
Guide to Venice (see below) – ditto for the scenes around the Campiello dei Miracoli. Having gained
such a direct bodily experience with a place allows for a set of personal memories to get re-
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 01-08

activated when watching a film. It is no longer a theoretical experience but a heightened

involvement with a familiar place.

Page| 3

Figure 2 The walk around the Arsenale in Corto Maltese’s Guide to Venice – Below a still from Rosalba and
Constantino meeting in Campo do Pozzi in Pane e Tulipani [Bread and Tulips] (Soldini, Italy, 2000)

I still have a long list of Venice films to get through, indeed according to IMDB, it is the second
most filmed city in Italy (after Rome), so no shortage of material. Unsurprisingly perhaps the overall
picture is quite different from other cities. While for example London emerges as the archetype of
the modern civic dystopia (Cunningham and Barber 2007, 177), most Venice films can’t resist its
picture postcard prettiness. This is why so many foreign films are made in Venice or have scenes
set in Venice. It has often been suggested that places are glorified by the presence of film stars but
in my view, it doesn’t apply to Venice, on the contrary – if you can bear it, watch how Bruce Willis
and Michelle Pfeiffer in The Story of Us (Reiner, USA, 1999) are dwarfed by Venice’s magnificence.
And if you can’t compete with Venice, you can call on James Bond (Daniel Craig) to engineer its
destruction, with the spectacular collapse of Palazzo Lion Morosini in the Canal Grande in Casino
Royale (Campbell, UK, 2006). Of course, there are notable exceptions, for example Don’t Look Now
(Roeg, UK/Italy, 1973) that eerily exposes the darker side of Venice.
F. Penz / What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021

Page | 4

Figure 3 Bruce Willis and Michelle Pfeiffer on the Canal Grande in The Story of Us (Reiner, USA, 1999)

Another curious phenomenon that distinguishes Venice, is that its urban fabric has barely
changed since the 17th century. As a result, the ‘cinematic urban archaeology’ methodology, which
I employed for London (Penz, Reid, and Thomas 2017), tracking the accumulated layers of moving-
image material for key city locations over decades in order to chart the urban transformations,
would yield little, if no benefit for Venice. However, the other important component of a cinematic
urban archaeology approach, recognising the social and cultural mutations of a city, would prove
much more fruitful. For example, in Anonimo Veneziano [Anonymous Venetian] (Salerno, Italy,
1970), essentially a long dérive of a couple in the streets of Venice, there are no traces of tourists –
vaporetti, piazzas and calli are almost empty. But if we fast forward to the year 2000, the characters
in Pane e Tulipani struggle to find a room for the night. In the intervening thirty years tourism had
increased exponentially, hotels had become saturated, and Airbnb had yet to be founded in 2008.
Cinema has clearly documented this process over time, amongst other social and cultural trends,
and so have we during our workshop. Cinema has profoundly shaped our collective imagination.
Over the last 125 years, filmmakers have archived, expressed, characterised, interpreted, and
portrayed hundreds of thousands of buildings, streets, and cities. As mentioned before Venice is no
exception and the first aim of the course was to engage the participants’ interest in the various
facets of the relationship between cinema and Venice, the opportunity to reflect on its
characterisation in the movies. The study of Venetian narrative films not only opened the path to
an innovative reflection on the complexity of the city as experience but also provide a basic
understanding of screen language that equipped participants to make their own short films.
Over a week, participants working across Venice and Singapore made short films, indexing a
chunk of the world duration in the process (see the workshop’s briefs in Appendix). This builds on
a methodology that has been developed in a range of cities over the last twenty years, a process
which has been documented elsewhere (Penz and Thomas 2020). The first observational exercise
helped us to understand the world around us and how the moving image constitutes a unique form
of spatial ethnography. The second exercise ‘City Sinfonietta’ asked for the manipulation of screen
time and space, using the montage editing tradition. In the process we experimented with creative
geographies, recording new topographies, and creating new maps of both cities. The last exercise
asked participants to work in teams across Venice and Singapore. This was the opportunity to
reflect on the art of future living in the age of globalization, pushing to the limit the notion of
‘creative geographies’, to imagine new spaces in which ‘we might live together’ (the theme of the
Biennale), however remotely.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 01-08

This was a fascinating exercise that forced us to confront our cultural similarities and differences
– with on one hand, Venice, the ultimate representative of material culture, and on the other,
Singapore, as a generic city characterized by its unique hawker culture, recognized as a key
intangible cultural heritage of humanity. In the final review of the work, the films we made
(available at: https://to-gather.sg/event/cavsworkshop/) acted as a thinking tool for an innovative
reflection and insights into complex situations at the global level. It was a novel experiment that
Page| 5
brough the two cities temporarily closer. I feel that I have experienced living in Venice though
Singapore, a city I do not know – and if one day I have the opportunity to visit it, no doubt it will be
associated with my memories of Venice...and a sense of déja-vu.

Figure 4 Final review at the Singapore Pavilion between Venice and Singapore participants on Zoom.

1. Appendix 1 Venice - Singapore Cinematic Workshop Briefs 17th – 24th September 2021
Locations around Venice and Singapore will form the focus of four short exercises in this
workshop. Participants will work in teams of three to four. Lectures on Day 1 and 2 will provide the
theoretical rationale for the workshop. The final crit will take place on 24th September – there will
also be intermediate crits.
1.1. Exercise 1 Observing a Species of Space
This is a three-part exercise. Firstly, based on Georges Perec’s practical exercise notes in Species
of Spaces, identify and observe a segment of the world around you. First identify a location, then
applying yourself and taking your time, start to note, sketch or photograph what you see around
you. Setting up the camera on a tripod [if available], shoot a single unedited 2-minute sequence. In
part 2, ‘observing the observed’ note what you can observe from the 2-minute sequence – compare
with your original notes/sketches/photos.
Finally in the last phase, draw or animate the narrative layers that compose the urban
environment that you have filmed.
1.2. Exercise 2 City Sinfonietta
This is a two-part exercise. You will first experiment with the manipulation of screen time and
space, using the montage tradition. Using the concept of an architectonic of cinema, you will first
be asked to make a 1- min film to create a taxonomy of key urban spaces that characterizes both
cities – alleys, squares, edges, markets etc.
You will then make another 1-min film, composed of several sequences, made of several shots
each, a ‘City Sinfonietta’ – in the great tradition of the city symphonies of the 1920s [Vertov,
Ruttmann etc.] – albeit on a much more modest scale. Each team should first identify a theme
F. Penz / What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021

before filming – montage is a powerful tool to express concepts, about nature, cities, transportation
– it can convey utopia or dystopia – and allow you to create artificial landscapes – storyboarding
will prove very helpful.
In the process you will experiment with ‘creative geographies’. You will need to consider visual
continuities and disruptions; about how you can cut between visual analogies or like motifs, to
make the shot-flow smooth; or from pattern to pattern, or from unlike visual element to unlike, if Page | 6
you want to create a sense of discontinuity and new meaning (Kuleshov effect).
1.3. Exercise 3 Mapping exercise
Based on your City Sinfonietta exercise, record on a map the new topographies of inclusion and
exclusion. Using scissors and glue, or digital techniques, create a new map according to your film
locations.
1.4. Exercise 4 Local versus global
Using the material shot for the previous exercises, you will be able to work across Venice and
Singapore to create a new City Sinfonietta made up of shots from both cities. For this last exercise
you will work in teams with participants from both cities.
This last exercise will ask you to reflect on the art of future living in the age of globalization,
pushing to the limit the notion of ‘creative geographies’, to imagine new spaces in which we might
live together, however remotely.
François Penz
Venice, September 2021

References
Cunningham, Gail, and Stephen Barber. 2007. London Eyes: Reflections in Text and Image. Polygons, v. 13.
New York ; Oxford: Berghahn Books.
Penz, François. 2018. ‘Cinéroma’. In Eternal City: Rome in the Photographs Collection of the Royal Institute of
British Architects, edited by Marco Iuliano and Gabriella Musto, 45–50. Milan: Skira.
Penz, François, Aileen Reid, and Maureen Thomas. 2017. ‘Cinematic Urban Archaeology: The Battersea Case’.
In Cinematic Urban Geographies, edited by François Penz and Richard Koeck. New York: Palgrave
Macmillan.
Penz, François, and Maureen Thomas. 2020. ‘Cinematics in Architectural Practice and Culture: The Cambridge
Project’. In Architecture Filmmaking, edited by Igea Troiani and Hugh Campbell, 335–56. Bristol;
Chicago: Intellect.

Resume

François Penz, an architect by training is a Professor of Architecture and the Moving Image in the Faculty
of Architecture and History of Art at the University of Cambridge where he directs the Digital Studio for
Research in Design, Visualization and Communication. He is also the Director of The Martin Centre for
Architectural and Urban Studies -the research arm of the Department of Architecture - and a Fellow of Darwin
College. He has written widely on issues of cinema, architecture and the city: 'Cinema & Architecture' (1997),
‘Architectures of Illusion’ (2003), ‘Screen Cities’ (2003) and recently co-edited ‘Urban Cinematics:
Understanding Urban Phenomena Through the Moving Image’ (2011). In 2013 he completed a major Arts and
Humanities Research Council project – The Cinematic Geographies of Battersea. His monograph on Cinematic
Aided Design: the Architecture of Everydayness will be published by Routledge in 2016. He is also co-editing a
book on Cinematic Urban Geographies to be published by Palgrave MacMillan in 2016.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 01-08

Appendix 2 Workshop Flyers

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F. Penz / What I saw in Venice – Biennale 2021

Page | 8
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (09-28), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si068

A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic

imagery, narrative and social issues

Keiichi Ogata*

Abstract

The Light and its Disappearance in the Darkness; The chapter begins with the question of
what can be found in the integration of architecture and cinema and continues exploring
light in the context of cinematic architecture theory. This is followed by a discussion of the
illusions of light that emerge in spaces where cinema and architecture meet. The thought
then reaches Paul Virilio's conception of the aesthetics of architecture as a metaphor for
cinema from the experience of space, the image of disappearance. It suggested I make a
film work, 'Hiroshima Through Light', in the AA. The Experimentation in the AA Diploma Unit
3; This chapter describes the exploration of cinematic architecture under the tutelage of
Pascal Schöning, a unit master of the AA, which includes philosophy, aesthetics, and
challenges to urban and social issues, along with his unique methodology. He explains to
his former students the importance of a more philosophical approach to the notion at the
end of Diploma Unit 3. That is when I see Juhani Pallasmaa's description of the need for
architects to look at people's daily lives and society through a phenomenological approach,
like filmmakers. My awareness moves on to a study of the architects depicted by
filmmakers. Image of Architects Depicted in Film; The images of architects in the films of
Michelangelo Antonioni, Terrence Malick and Hirokazu Kore-eda are discussed. It indicates
that they are entrusted with a role of building human relationships. Cinématic Architecture
Tokyo; This chapter outlines activities in Japan that are being rolled out in the form of
workshops, lectures and exhibitions to develop the theory of cinematic architecture. The
theme of the workshops held in the Hokuriku region was the revitalisation of declining local
urban communities, which is also related to the previous chapter on “building human
relationships”. This year, the projection attempted to embody poetic images to illuminate
memories that are being lost. Conclusion: In addition to reflecting on essential elements
such as the aesthetics of disappearing light, memory, history, poetic imagery, narrative and
social issues, adding a focus on the significance of communication design, fields of sense
and spatial quality, could bring new perspectives to the integration of architecture.

Keywords: aesthetics of light, architect in film, cinema and architecture, narrative, social
issue

1. The Light and its Disappearance in the Darkness

What can we discover by looking at architecture and cinema not separately but by transcending
their boundaries and integrating them? It begins with a contemplation on light in film and
architectural space. Towards the end of Hirokazu Kore-eda's first feature film, Maboroshi (1995),
there is a scene where a young woman who marries for the second time in a small fishing village
stands still, fascinated by the faint light drifting beyond the dark seaside of twilight as if it were the
soul of her dead ex-husband (Figure 1). Takeshi Kitano's film, HANA-BI (1998), tells the story of a
retired detective who sets off on a journey with his nearly dying wife in a van. The ephemeral nature

*Architect, Cinématic Architecture Tokyo, Japan, info@cinematicarchitecturetokyo.com

Article history: Received 09 September 2022, Accepted 15 November 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

of human life is felt through the bereavement of the people he met, and the memory of happy days
with his wife are metaphorically represented as fireworks (the title means flowers and light) that
shine for a brief moment (Figure 2). Why are we attracted to lights that do not settle, keep shifting
and eventually fade away in the darkness?

Page | 10

Figure 1 A small fire by the sea in Maboroshi

Figure 2 Detective’s wife and the fireworks in HANA-BI.

Junichiro Tanizaki asks us in his In Praise of Shadows (1933/1984) whether the faint light that
reaches the secluded room of a temple building is perceived as something profound and different
from ordinary rays of light; whether we do not feel a kind of Thanatos-like fear of “eternity” as if
we have lost track of time and the years flow by without our knowing (Figure 3).

Figure 3 In Praise of Shadows, Junichio Tanizaki (1933).

 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

While acknowledging Tanizaki’s nostalgia for ancient Japanese architectural space, architect
Arata Isozaki (1997) adds that this fascination with light and shadow Tanizaki admired comes from
all that is left behind when light passes through darkness and that light therefore cannot be
absolute but always temporary and exists only to disappear. The dark space is a living entity, deep,
directly touching and enveloping the person inside (Vidler, 1992). To feel the fascination of
flickering lights in the dark space is a cinematic experience, which Roland Barthes calls the
Page| 11
“cinematographic cocoon”, and those lights are hypnotic (1989). The transformation from illusion
to reality, the awakening felt as one leaves the dark space, is the essence of the spatial experience
of cinema.
Furthermore, Anne Friedberg (1993) says that there is a relationship between “virtual gaze” and
“virtual mobility” in the moving images within the frame of the film screen, where the images
created by the illusory light are projected in a dark space, and in the gaze of the audience who
follow them with their eyes. She goes on to elaborate:
This newly wrought combination of mobile and virtual visualities provided a
virtual mobility for immobile spectators who witnessed movement confined to a
frame. As cinema "spectators" we sit immobile in front of moving images; our
bodies do not move, but our "point of view" may change.... As a viewer of virtual
images, the moving-image spectator has a bodily presence in material architectural
space yet engages with virtually rendered immaterial space framed on the screen….
the cinema freed its spectators not only from the bindings of material space but
also from the bindings of time.
(Friedberg, 2006, pp. 5-6)
If we focus on” movement”, the combination of the spectator’s move and the shifting landscape
frames of architecture and objects is a projection of cinematic narratives of architecture. Not only
the Parc de la Villette, a” cinematic promenade” (Tschumi, 1996), but also the harmony between
garden and architecture in landscape gardens, such as the Shugakuin Rikyu Imperial Villa (Figure 4)
and the Katsura Rikyu Imperial Villa in Japan, and Stourhead (Figure 5) and Stowe in England, are
projections of cinematic narratives of architecture. The same applies to the fantasy journey of
Michael O’Hara, the protagonist of the film, The lady from Shanghai (Welles, 1947) (Figure 6), who
keeps roaming around the crazy house. Examples of “movement” being linked to “memory” and
“narrative structure” are the films La jetée (Marker, 1962) and the limits of control (Jarmusch,
2009). The former is an experimenter travelling through time and space in the present, past and
future, and the latter is a sniper travelling around Spain, but these narratives have a narrative
structure that can be visualised in the viewer’s mind, making them feel as if they are experiencing
a virtual space journey. And a kind of combination of these elements is Last year in Marienbad
(Resnais, 1961).

Figure 4 Shugakuin Rikyu Imperial Villa, Kyoto, Japan. (Construction: 1653-1655) (Photo by the Author)
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

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Figure 5 Stourhead, Wiltshire, UK Figure 6 Michael O'Hara wanders in the crazy house in The
(construction: 1741-1780) (Photo by the Author) Lady from Shanghai.

In the film Blade Runner (Scott, 1982) (Figure 7), which has a vital element of “illusion”, detective
Rick Deckard uses a three-dimensional photoscope in his investigation, with the ability to project
an out-of-frame image of a single photograph across time and space. It has both “virtual gaze” and
“virtual mobility”, projecting into Deckard’s consciousness an illusion of a female Replicant on the
run and directing him towards their narrative quest to explore the reasons for the Replicant’s
obsession with life. Fantasy is what reality can be confused with (Gabriel, 2017). It is also
reminiscent of what a famous dramatist is believed to have said in 18th century Japan, before the
birth of cinema: “Art is something which lies in the slender margin between the real and the unreal”
(Keene, 2008, p. 389) 1. Cinematic fantasy is inextricably linked together with reality, but films are
finite and always have an end.

Figure 7 The three-dimension viewer (above) finds a female Replicant behind a male from a still photograph in Blade
Runner.

As for buildings, their lifespans are also finite and transitory. While there is a gradual destruction
process of weathering, we know that there is also sudden death. When we look back on a vanished

1
Chikamatsu, Monzaemon (1653-1725) was a Japanese dramatist, who wrote mainly for the Joruri, or the form of traditional puppet
stage.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

or destroyed building in retrospect, it is as if we have seen a kind of illusion. From the images of
destroyed buildings delivered from Ukraine to the rest of the world after 24 February 2022, some
people may recall pictures of their personal memories. It may be the planned destruction for
development purposes close to one’s home, decaying houses in a depopulated area, the
elementary school that collapsed after the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011 (Figure 8), the
World Trade Centre in New York City destructed in the September 11 attacks (Jencks, 1977) 2 ,2 the
Page| 13
planned demolition of the high-rise flats in Glasgow in the early 2010s (Leslie, 2016) (Figure 9) 3.
Facing and being captured by the illusion of images in this way is similar to the experience of
solitude that Juhani Pallasmaa describes when we face architecture:
An architectural experience silences all external noise; it focuses attention on
one’s very existence. Architecture, as all art, makes us aware of our fundamental
solitude. At the same time, architecture detaches us from the present and allows us
to experience the slow, firm flow of time and tradition.
(Holl, S., Pallasmaa, J., & Pérez-Gomez, A., 1994, p.31)

Figure 8 The earthquake-ravaged elementary school Figure 9 View from the Sight Hill Residential Flat in
building in Miyagi Prefecture, Japan. (Photo by the Author) Glasgow. (Photo by Chris Leslie)

Architecture, too, dies, and at the ever-accelerating pace of the modern city, it is all the more
short-lived. Nevertheless, architecture continues to tell us the memory of our spatial experience
and the cinematic story of its life as an afterimage. Paul Virilio predicted 30 years ago the world
that would come afterwards:
The aesthetic of construction is dissimulated in the special effects of the
communication machines, engines of transfer and transmission; the arts continue
to disappear in the intense illumination of projection and diffusion…. we are now in
the time of cinematographic factitiousness; literally as well as figuratively, from
now on architecture is only a movie.
(1991, pp. 64-65)
Pascal Schöning, who was a master of Diploma Unit 3 of the Architectural Association School of
Architecture, quoted this text by Virilio at every opportunity when I was in his unit and stated in his
writing: “The very essence of cinematic architecture is nothing less than the complete
transformation of solid-state materialistic architecture into an energised ever-changing process of
illuminated and enlightening event appearances” (2009, p. 16) (Figure 10). He also said, "It is when
we touch the depths of personal and collective memory that architecture and cinema reveal their
constructive force" (2009, p. 116). Digging into these words in my own way enhanced the
motivation and imagination of my film project in the AA, and the result is my work, Hiroshima
through light: From light to silence, silence to light, which is about the momentary collapse of a city

2
Charles Jencks (1977) said,” Modern Architecture died in St Louis, Missouri on July 15, 1972, at 3.32 p.m….when the infamous
Pruitt-Igoe scheme…were given the final coup de grâce by dynamite” (p. 9). The building was designed by architect Minoru Yamasaki
who also designed the World Trade Centre, so the narrative is that the death of modernism in architecture continued until 2009.
3
Disappearing Glasgow website: https://www.disappearing-glasgow.com/portfolio/introduction/ (accessed 29.08.2022)
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

(Figure 11) 4.4 The work speaks of sympathy and empathy with collective memory, exploring the
meanings of light, shadow, city, architecture, and cinema.

Page | 14

Figure 10 Cinematic Architecture, Pascal Schöning (2009).

Figure 11 Hiroshima Through Light: From Light to

Silence, Silence to Light, Dir. by the Author. (1995/2018)

2. The Experimentation in the AA Diploma Unit 3

Pascal Schöning, a Berliner who taught Diploma Unit 3 at the AA from 1993 to 2008, was an
educator, a philosopher, an artist, and a creative agitator (Figure 12) 5. He proclaimed cinematic
architecture at the AA after several years of creative struggles through trial and error since he
started teaching in London.

Figure 12 Pascal Schönig in Metz, France, in 2015, near Unité d'Habitation in Briey-en-Forêt where he lived after his
retirement. (Photo by the Author) https://www.aaschool.ac.uk/obituaries/pascal-schoning-1939-2016

Initially, there was a period of creative exploration in his unit, using a more artistic methodology
leading up to cinematic architecture. For example, students analysed the works and words of

4
Hiroshima Through Light: From Light to Silence, Silence to Light (1995-96/2018 revised) Dir.by the Author.
https://vimeo.com/137228178/89c027b00c The concluding words of the work overlap with the illusionary image of a film actress who
disappeared with the light of the atomic bomb: “Hiroshima was born from shadows, and the future of the city is revealed by light”.
https://vimeo.com/137228178/89c027b00c
5
https://www.aaschool.ac.uk/obituaries/pascal-schoning-1939-2016 (Accessed in 9.09.2022)
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

writers and philosophers as well as architects, filmmakers and artists and applied such a critical
approach to designing solutions for urban issues. The approach at that time could be succinctly
described as “conceptual”. In the later phase, the unit also focused on a process that pursued a kind
of logic and spatiality with artistic manipulation tinged with philosophy and narrative, the results of
which logically led to a definition of architecture. The discussions by Pascal and his students lasted
late into the night over coffee and cigarette smoke, especially during the jury sessions, sometimes
Page| 15
joined by his friends or professors and assistants from other units. The topics ranged from the words
of contemporary thinkers to art criticism, current affairs and gossip. Some joined the conversation;
others did not and continued to create silently. Some talked and created architectural spaces using
only words (Figure 13).

Figure 13 Student’s works from the AA Diploma Unit 3 by Julian Löffler, Jean Tark Park, Clara Kraft, Stephan Doesinger
and Takanao Todo. (Clockwise from right to left)

Inspired by even these seemingly futile conversations, the students worked on their projects of
experiment combining various ideas with narratives of urban reality using the unit's own jargon,
techniques and methodologies (e.g., books for narrative composition, filmmaking, collage,
overlaying, impressions, contradiction, mise-en-scène, camera-stylo, urban projection, reflections
on memory and poetic expression). What was finally proposed included a transient event, an act
that triggers a phenomenon, a place that means something, or an installation that unfolds within a
space; they could be described as something close to media art. Regardless of the scale of the
project, it was required to raise social issues and suggest solutions to them without becoming too
personal. As Brian Hutton, who teaches at the AA, later pointed out, careful consideration of the
filmmaker's mise-en-scène was also emphasised in the unit 6.6 Essay films and narrative films by
Chris Marker, Andrei Tarkovsky, Michelangelo Antonioni, Wim Wenders and Patrick Keiller, just to
name a few, were discussed. By examining these filmmakers' perspectives on cities, people and the
environment, their methods of analysis and how to address social issues, it became clear that their
perspectives on cities have much in common with those of architects, highlighting the need for
architects to play a role as social activists.
In addition, the cities featured in the unit represented challenges to urban and social issues, such
as resistance to the loss of memory of Hiroshima 50 years after the atomic bombing and the

6
In 2018, at the symposium “Film, Space, Architecture”, coordinated by Brian Hatton, Schöning's Unit 3 was introduced as one of
two units in the AA that actively incorporated film into education, Schöning's Unit 3 was introduced, along with Diploma Unit 10, formerly
taught by Bernard Tschumi and Nigel Coates. The relationship between cinema and architecture, in addition to its technical aspects, was
presented, from the narrative paintings before the Lumière brothers' first film to smartphone images in the digital age, plus a discussion
on the possibility and necessity of integrated education in cinema and architecture in the future.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4fkhpSj4gI&t=7126s
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

involvement of architects in places like war-torn Sarajevo at the time, which led to intense and
creative discussions between students with different backgrounds (I remember being part of these
discussions). This must have made the students even more aware of the role of architects in society
and the community. I left the unit in the first half of this experimentation in the late 1990s. The AA
subsequently began to ask the unit to design physical buildings, and the focus shifted to the
ordinary and idyllic cities 7 . At the symposium in London in May 2009 held on the occasion of
Page | 16
Schöning's retirement, he was recognised for his achievements, including his teaching methods that
incorporate filmmaking 8.
At the closure of the unit in 2009, former unit students reflected with Schöning on the evolution
of the unit's experiments and research up to that point. The main objective of the unit was not
whether there would be a physical architecture in the end. For cinematic architecture, “the best
projects were composites where the intervention and the film completed each other without one
being the representation of the other” (Schöning, Löffler, & Azevedo, 2009, p. 189). There were
also conversations about the significance of the education in Unit 3, which was not to look at
political projects such as Hiroshima and Sarajevo from a conceptual point of view, but rather to
discover their own involvement and perspective (without being too much of a detached observer),
and to face the real world by bringing their theoretical approach to architecture into the political
realm. Although at first glance it would appear to be the culmination of Unit 3, Schöning did not call
it final at that point, saying that it should be viewed as more philosophically. I take it that he left a
room for further exploration.
Later, I came across Juhani Pallasmaa's view that architects, like filmmakers, should take a
phenomenological approach to the world they encounter and be interested in people and their
everyday lives, an insight that I found relevant to the learning at Unit 3. Turning from this, I became
interested in the architects and the roles entrusted to them as portrayed by the filmmakers.

3. Image of Architects Depicted in Film

Many architects are interested in film and incorporate filmic language, narrative and spatial
theory into their designs and philosophies. What about filmmakers? Except for Sergei Eisenstein,
Wim Wenders and Peter Greenaway, not many filmmakers have revealed an interest in or affinity
for architecture. It may be because, for filmmakers, architecture is inescapable and always present
in their frames 9. In this chapter, I will focus on the filmmakers' portrayal of architects and the role
entrusted to them. The images of architects addressed here are the protagonists in the films of
Michelangelo Antonioni, Terrence Malick, and Hirokazu Kore-eda.
3.1. L’avventura (1960)
Michelangelo Antonioni has portrayed architects (twice, if you count a female architecture
student in the passenger), photographers, journalists, writers, film directors, and other creators
and expressionists as protagonists.
One of his key films, L’avventura, follows the protagonist, architect Sandro, on a contemplative
journey to repair the relationship between the three of them, as he searches for his missing
girlfriend, Anna, with her best friend Claudia. Sandro and Claudia continue to search for Anna in
Sicily, not knowing whether she is alive or dead. Sandro is impressed and overwhelmed by the
beauty of the architecture and urban design he sees in Sicily (Figure 14) and the imagination of the
architects who designed it, and he says that he will seriously try his hand at architectural design
again. Claudia also encourages him, but then he makes a weak comment as if he is giving up because
of the shortened life span of buildings these days.

7
Architects such as Elizabeth Diller and Ricardo Scofidio, who were at the Cooper Union around that time, stated that they were
not architecture-oriented in the academy and were aiming for a freer expression such as films and multimedia installations (“Interview”,
2019).
8
The colloquium “Cinematic Architecture Conference” was organised on the occasion of Schöning's retirement from the AA on 15
May 2009. The transcript was included in his third book on cinematic architecture, Everything in Life is as Much Fiction as It is Fact.
9
Nigel Coates said, “There could be no film without architecture, no architecture without film” in the symposium “Film, Space,
Architecture (part 2/3)”.https://youtu.be/pjL51GibT5A
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

On how the Sicilian urban design represents Sandro’s feelings in this scene, Marie-Claire Ropars-
Wuilleumier (1989) notes that “art in Sicily is baroque: in other words, movement, instability, the
constant search for an impossible balance, like the spiral of the fountain in front of which Sandro
lingers and becomes gloomy” (p.194). In front of the overwhelming perspective of the architecture,
Sandro moves in a spiral trajectory while conversing with Claudia. What this implies is that it is
extremely difficult to challenge or resist the great beauty of the past, and to repair the relationship
Page| 17
between the three of them. His vague search continues in Anna’s footsteps, as if he were sketching
abstract lines on a blank canvas or drawing board. Film critic Sam Rohdie (1990) pointed out that:
Most narratives move forward consequentially, causatively, and within
predetermined structures. Antonioni’s films are different from this; they seem to
move, or rather to oscillate, not between event and event, but between narrative
and its absence. (p. 176)
For Sandro, love is uncertain, sterile, and he realises that it is in a realm that cannot be defined
or repaired as simply a conventional relationship. Nevertheless, he will continue to explore,
spiralling and pondering, in the hope of a solution (Figure 15).

Figure 14 Architect, Sandro in L'avventura

Figure 15 Sandro and Claudia in L'avventura.

K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

3.2. The Tree of Life (2011)

Terrence Malick's film is an epic tale of time and life contrasted with depictions of God, nature,
the universe and prehistoric creatures. The protagonist, Jack O'Brien, is an architect who works for
a large design firm in Houston and is highly respected by his colleagues. But he has complex
problems in his family. Maybe it is because the weight of love comes from strong domestic intimacy.
Joshua Nunziato (2016) mentioned: Page | 18
Time is the problem of The Tree of Life: Time borne in the intimacy of the family.
The problem of the family is the problem of history, the problem of life, the problem
of the cosmos itself. (p. 224)
Here, as in Antonioni's L’avventura, the architect is with time. Jack's perspective, which
continues to search for the Tree of Life in his mind, begins with memories of his past with family,
goes back in time and space to prehistoric times, and then flashes to the present. On the other
hand, Renée Tobe pointed out that “the film is all about trees, tree houses, and glades of trees,
with patches and patterns of shadow. The tree represents the uncorrupted state of childhood"
(2017, p. 139). And the natural trees of his childhood are juxtaposed as symbols of Jack's presence
in his ultra-modern design office made of steel and glass in the urban landscape of Houston (Figure
16).

Figure 16 The steel and glass-made building where Jack works looks like trees and branches or a forest in The Tree of
Life.

The story revolves around Jack and his complex relationship with his father Mr O'Brien and
mother Mrs O’Brien with his brothers. Jack seems to have lived quietly his life without resistance,
with his strict father as his antagonist. His father's strict teachings were: “Don't give up, don't say
you can’t do it.” On the other hand, his kind-hearted mother continually tells him to “help each
other, love others and be tolerant”, quoting words from the Bible, but these are also too heavy for
him. Jack has lived his life conscious of his inability to inherit harshness from his father and kindness
from his mother while feeling remorse for his coldness toward his younger brother, who died at the
age of 19. In his mind, he roams the deserts and seashores, continually asking God what humanity
is for and if it is enough just to exist. The perspective of his search traces the prehistoric Earth from
outer space. It then leads to memories of his personal development from infancy. Eventually, Jack
opens a door connecting to the water of the shore as if he is guided by God, where people in his
lifetime so far are walking through (Figure 17). He kneels in amazement. There are two questions
coming out here: Why did director Terrence Malick give Jack the role of the architect as a seeker of
the ascetic and sublime world? Why did Jack choose the profession of architect after growing up
with such parents? The only thing I can say is that he is an architect who has thoughtfully
constructed a story of one life and its connections as the Tree of Life. Perhaps the only way to draw
and connect these lines to link our eternal question, “where have we come from and where are we
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

going?” is to continue to philosophically question the meaning of the existence of others, which is
the role that Malick entrusted to him as an architect.

Page| 19

Figure 17 Architect, Jack O'Brien in The Tree of Life.

3.3. Like Father, Like Son (2013)

The protagonist of Hirokazu Kore-eda’s Like Father, Like Son is Ryota Nonomiya, a talented
architect. He is a decisive and arrogant man who believes that the only way for his six-year-old son
to succeed is to leave childcare to his wife, a housewife, live in a skyscraper and provide a high-
quality education (Figure 18). There should be no fault. Ryota is satisfied with his son’s accurate
and impeccable answers in the private primary school entrance exams. Even though he knows it
goes too far and probably wrong, he feels he has no choice but to be on the winning side of life
(that is, to live on the upper floors of a high-rise building, which is clearly visualized) because in
today’s competitive society, being too nice will cost you. Ryota’s over-the-top design toward the
son is very similar to that of Mr O'Brien in the tree of life. The three of them appear to be acting
out false happiness. Their happiness is nothing more, nothing less.

Figure 18 The architect's family lives in a high-rise condominium in the middle of Tokyo as if they look things down
from the sky.

One day, they are informed that their son was mistaken for another baby at the hospital he was
born, and Ryota is surprised that his real son is being raised by a seemingly dowdy and unreliable
couple. Here, Kore-eda sets a small, shabby appliance repair shop for the other parents in contrast
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

to the architect's high-rise condominium apartment (Figure 19), but their way of life is very human
and Ryota’s real son seems to live a carefree and joyful life. As the two couples interact with each
other, Ryota and his wife are confronted with the question imposed by Kore-eda: can they love
their real son because of their blood ties or accept the switched son because of the time together
(Kore-eda, 2016). Then, he realises that both of his sons are no longer connected to him in any way.
He begins to think about his real son's life, then about his switched son’s, and both. And finally, he
Page | 20
thinks about the true happiness of the switched son he has spent the past six years with and dares
to walk separately on parallel paths (the sequence is visually striking) (Figure 19). He started
drawing one strong line six years ago, and he realises that he may not see the path of his switched
son walking that line again. What he has drawn is not a straight but a circular line that circled like a
spiral eventually returning to the origin of his inherent conscience.

Figure 19 Another family lives in a shabby old house on the ground in a rural area

Figure 20 Architect Ryota finally draws the line of his thought on their sons.

3.4. Architects who build human relationships

All these protagonists are placed in a solitary situation by the filmmakers. In the beginning, they
are not aware that they are dealing with a collective or social problem but take their personal
feelings as the starting point for their thoughts and explorations. They then understand the
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

difficulty of solving the problems and eventually realise the philosophical propositions from their
own standpoint, face them, struggle and try to present messages. The stage where the message is
presented is society, the community. In a book co-written with Ken Loach, Kore-eda (2020) says: "I
don't explicitly state the point of my anger in my films because it is frightening for a filmmaker to
offer any solutions or suggest something” (p. 29). However, in Kore-eda's film, and in the other two
films as well, there seems potentially more active “problem posing” about human relations and
Page| 21
society by the directors to the viewers. It is the protagonists, the architects, who confront the
problems. If the issues raised have depth, the audience will accept them and begin to think on their
own. That is a kind of resonance and empathy of the film. The architects portrayed by these
filmmakers are entrusted with the social role of building human relations, bringing imagination to
the viewers and engaging them in the narratives 10. The discussion in this chapter has contributed
to and helped to enhance the activities described in the next chapter 11.

4. Cinématic Architecture Tokyo

The main objectives of launching Cinématic Architecture Tokyo (abbreviated CAT) (Figure 21) 12
in 2014 were: 1) to delve deeply into and embody the cinematic architecture theory developed in
the Diploma Unit 3, 2) to explore the idea of architecture not merely as physical building design but
in a broader sense, and 3) to discuss the role of architects who build human relations. Seminars and
workshops have been organized in major cities such as Tokyo and Yokohama, and in regional cities.
In addition, I had the opportunity to hold workshops and lectures at McGill University in Montreal
(Figure 22) and Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok (Figure 23).

Figure 21 Cinématic Architecture Tokyo website

10
Juhani Pallasmaa pointed out that [the narratives of Antonioni] “create associative fields or clusters of poetic images, which tend
to play down the dramatic tension and open up the narrative to interpretation. The viewer turns from a passive onlooker into an active
participant who appears to have an\ moral allegiance with the story” (2007, p.8).
11
I would like to further develop the theme of 'depicted architects' in this chapter. For example, in the symposium "Film, Space,
Architecture", Renee Tobe discussed The Belly of an Architect (1987) directed by Peter Greenaway, a wide-ranging examination of Roman
history, geography and iconography from the perspective of a Roman architect. https://youtu.be/pjL51GibT5A
12
Cinématic Architecture Tokyo website: http://cinematicarchitecturetokyo.com/
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

Figure 22 Workshop and lecture in the studio of

Professor Ipek Tureli of McGill University in
Montreal, Canada, in January 2019.

Page | 22

Figure 23 Lecture and a student’s work from the

workshop, “Funeral of Architecture” organised by
adjunct Professor Tadanao Todo, Chulalongkorn
University in Bangkok, Thailand, in October 2021.
4.1. Workshop Series “Alchemy of Architecture” in Tokyo
“Alchemy of Architecture” (2015-present) is a project re-evaluating the architects' potential as
“alchemists in the contemporary city”. A historical street near the University of Tokyo is designated
as the site, where each participant researches the works of famous writers, artists, architects, films,
literature, philosophy, geography, urban archaeology and other references related to the site,
extracts elements of interest and creates a video work, focusing on intuitive sense. The video is
then freely transformed into different media, such as text, performance or installation, in an
experimental attempt to expose the narratives and aesthetics hidden in the streets to the outside
world (Figure 24).

Figure 24 Workshop series “Alchemy of Architecture” and participants' work.

The programme focuses on the production process. It uses an assemblage methodology that
mixes as many different things as possible, taking advantage of the freedom of ideas, spontaneity
and inspiration to broaden the scope of expression. While considering what is needed in the city,
the creator does not decide on the final form at an early stage but focuses on the experience of
fresh surprise when the final form is emerged. This production process itself then becomes a
narrative. The participants have developed expressions that are not necessarily architectural but
have what Giuliana Bruno calls, “a materiality, like cinema or architecture, which rather needs a
screen in an age of widespread virtual media” (2014, p. 3) or include media art mixing architecture
and art.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

The project context involves an experimental exploration of cinematic architecture theory. It is

an experiment in crossing boundaries from the integration of cinema and architecture to the more
contradictory concept of fusion. The project attracted multinationals living in Japan and guests from
abroad including the visit by Rolf Gerstlauer's studio at AHO, Oslo School of Architecture and
Design, Norway. In 2015, CAT participated in the exhibition at the National Conference of Urban
Planning in Tokyo 13.
Page| 23

Figure 25 Workshop series “Look at the Crystal Ball!” and participants’ work.

4.2. Workshop Series “Look at the Crystal Ball!” in Yokohama

The workshop series in Yokohama “Look at the Crystal Ball!” (2017-2021) is about observing the
city, exposing representations of the past and present, and looking at the city of the future. The
project aims to create a visual representation of near future landscapes with narratives by studying
and overlaying the urban landscape and architecture of Yokohama, the most advanced city in Japan
in terms of urban planning, with works depicting images of Yokohama's future, including science
fiction works. In recent years, Yokohama has been the subject of urban planning controversy due
to the attraction of casinos, the redevelopment of landmark areas and the backlash from citizens
against it. The workshop has a programme more akin to urban conceptual design (Figure 25).
4.3. Community Event “Cinematic Cafe in Musashino” in Tokyo
The art café “Cinematic Café in Musashino” (2019-present), with the support of the local
municipality Musashino City, attempts to discover possibilities within the fragmented communities
in contemporary Tokyo through casual conversations that intersect film, architecture, art, literature
and subcultures. It is an attempt in the role of architects to build relationships between people
involved in arts and culture that may be of little interest to many (Figure 26).

Figure 26 Discussing Jim Jarmusch’s the Limits of Control in the Cinématic Cafe in Musashino. / The poster for the
“Shadow” Session.

13
Exhibition “The World Projected by Cinématic Architecture Tokyo” in the National Conference of Urban Planning 2015, held at
University of Tokyo 3-4 October 2015.
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

4.4. Workshop Series “For the Sake of Anyone Whom We Might Not Have Seen Yet” in Toyama
In Japan, where the population is declining rapidly 14, the economy continues to decline like a
sinking vessel. As a result, cities decline and communities fragment. Divisions in terms of gender,
education, wealth and ideological differences become apparent. Rural areas lose their uniqueness
and exhibit increasingly postmodern representations, for example, Tokyo-like giant shopping malls
(Figure 27). It has been pointed out that serious problems such as the falling birth rate, the ageing Page | 24
population and the hollowing out of city centres are more pronounced in regional cities 15. This
workshop, which is set in Takaoka City, Toyama Prefecture, a city in the Hokuriku region, is a project
that addresses both experimentation in expression and human relations building. Specifically, it
aims to discover site-specific narratives that can provide hints for community revitalization.

Figure 27 Shopping mall on a 205,000 square metre site in Takaoka City.

In the methodology here, the creation of poetic images is the key to narrative discovery. It was
inspired by Schöning’s words that “What I propose is a poetic logic, a poetic intelligence, a
multidimensional energetic combination of contradictory elements governed by a logical
singularity” (2006, p.15) and Pallasmaa’s “Poetic images are condensations of numerous
experiences, percepts and ideas” (2007, p.9). The title of the workshop, For the sake of anyone
whom we might not have seen yet, comes from a quietly poetic phrase in a novel set in the local
area 16.
Supported by civic action NPO that has been working for gender equality and social participation
in this conservative locality for over 30 years, the workshop focuses its research on films, 17
literature, manga and anime set in the region and the reality of the background (Figures 28, 29).
Referring in particular to works depicting women facing gender issues and “women's way of life”
problems related to conservatism and imposed mores specific to regional cities, the participants
think about the role of the female characters' ways of life, ideas, goals, dreams, resistance and
actions in the stories. Contrasting these with the reality represented in the city, hints for future

14
According to the Population and Social Security Research Institute, by 2050, Japan's population will have decreased by 20 million
people in 2025. The National Institute of Population and Social Security Research website: https://www.ipss.go.jp/p-
info/e/S_D_I/Indip.asp#t_2 (Accessed in 5-9-2022)
15
Hidetoshi Ohno, an architect who has been conducting research and making proposals on urban issues for many years, says:
“What we need to do today is not to create the optimistic visions of the 1960s but to employ new ideas and methodologies in the
planning and administering of cities” (2016, p.3).
16
The phrase is from Satoko Kizaki’s novel The phoenix tree (1990, p.187). It is a quietly poetic phrase muttered by a dying woman
who decides to break with the traditional customs of the region.
17
One of the films made in the region is Ballad of Orin (1977), directed by Masahiro Shinoda, which is the story of a woman who
belonged to a mutual voluntary aid organisation of blind female minstrels in the region in early 20th-century Japan.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

communicative design, possibilities for placemaking, critical factors (Figures 30, 31, 32) 18 and values
that cannot be obtained with money, i.e., wellbeing, are also extracted and expressed.

Page| 25

Figure 28 Blind female minstrels of the mutual aid Figure 29 Expressions from the Hokuriku region workshop
organization. From Ballad of Orin. “For the Sake of Anyone Whom We Might Not Have Seen
Yet” since 2016

Figure 30 Sculpture by Spanish architect Enric Millares was removed Figure 31 Daniel Libeskind’s object placed deep
in 2014. in the mountains of Toyama prefecture.

Figure 32 Artworks as a response to the Machi no Kaozukuri project in Toyama.

18
It can also be a tribute or irony to something that has been lost. One such example is the “Machi no Kaozukuri” [creating the face
of the town] project produced by Arata Isozaki in the 1990s. Overseas architects (Ron Herron, Daniel Libeskind, Enric Miralles, Cesar
Portela, and others) were commissioned to design symbolic buildings and follies symbolising areas in Toyama Prefecture, but it is
questionable whether these are still recognised as originally intended today. Miralles’ sculpture was demolished in 2014 due to
development, and Libeskind’s object is located deep in the mountains.
K. Ogata / A reflection on cinematic architecture through light, poetic imagery, narrative and social issues

Page | 26

Figure 33 Narrative collage out of Hokuriku media made in the workshop coordinated by Tomko Shoji.

The presentation of the expression has so far taken the form of exhibitions in local galleries and
municipal museums, projections on historical buildings and gatherings for conversation. As a result,
a small local network of art and culture enthusiasts has been formed 19. The most recent workshop,
held in autumn 2022, featured a projection as a finale that transformed the participants' words and
artwork compositions into “poetic images” (Figure 34). It was a projection onto one of the old
houses scattered in the countryside. It evoked what Mark Cousins, who is a film historian and was
an advisor to Diploma Unit 3, had said: “Film constitutes a kind of memory palace for the fear and
loves and above all for the loss of architecture” (1998, p.18).

Figure 34 Projection event in the workshop “For the Sake of Anyone Whom We Might Not Have Seen Yet”.

The opportunities for dialogue and expression in this series of activities are spaces for empathy
and sharing, which will contribute to creating what neo-existentialism calls a “field of sense”. To
help "big cities and the countryside can work well together" (Jacobs, 1961), CAT will continue to
develop community design ideas that can be used in both by linking the efforts to tackle the
problems of the local cities to those of the metropolitan area.

19
Workshop participants also discovered the pleasure of “pilgrimages” to visit local places that have been the setting for novels
and films. “These seemingly ordinary urban sites are nodes that are linked to a narrative” (Koeck, 2013, p.47), leading to the discovery
and reaffirmation of local attractions.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 09-28

5. Conclusion
Hiroshima Through Light, which I produced while enrolled in Diploma Unit 3, concludes with the
words: “Hiroshima was born from shadows. And the future of the city is defined by its desire for
light" (Ogata, 2001, p. 187). This work is just one of the attempts to realise the term “illuminated
and enlightening event” (2005, p. 1) in Pascal Schöning's definition of cinematic architecture. And
Page| 27 the projection performed in autumn 2022 is just another milestone in a trial-and-error process
about film and architecture.
To further the exploration, it may be necessary to move back and forth between unbiased
thinking from architecture to film and from film to architecture, including conceptual and
stimulating experiments such as the "clash between architecture and film" advocated by architect
Ryoji Suzuki (2013, p. 52).
I will keep considering the significance of memory, history, poetic imagery, narrative, the image
of architects and social issues, communication design, place-making for the field of sense, and
spatial quality. The essence of cinematic architecture will appear more clearly by integrating film
and architecture when these explorations reach the next level.
As one of the methodologies to search for truth and essence in this chaotic and uncertain world,
the theory of cinematic architecture, which is pluralistic thinking, may be applicable in various ways.
This is the significance of continuing further discussion, experimentation and practice.
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank Işil Baysan Serim of SINETOPIA Architecture, City and Film Atelier and Professor Gül
Kaçmaz Erk of Queen's University Belfast for the opportunity to write this piece.

References
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Mishimasha Publishing Co. Page | 28
Kore-eda, H., & Loach, K. (2020). Kazoku to shakai ga kowareru toki [When family and society break down].
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Resume
Keiichi Ogata, educator, architect and urbanist based in Tokyo and Director of Cinématic Architecture
Tokyo. He studied film at the Nihon University School of Art and the Architectural Association School of
Architecture (AA Diploma Hons 1996). His research interests are film, architecture, art and sub-cultures.
http://keiichiogata.space/
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (29-48), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si069

Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical

continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

Graham Cairns*

Abstract

This paper explores the idea of film as a medium that has been used to celebrate, develop
and ultimately sustain cultural traditions in an age of globalization and technological and
cultural change. It borrows ideas from the sector of heritage, namely intangible cultural
heritage, and uses this to offer a framework for understanding the work of two key mid
20th century film directors, Jean Renoir and Yasujiro Ozu. Through a detailed analysis of
the cinematography employed by both directors, their use of architectural space and the
cultural traditions that they drew heavily upon, it explores examples how both directors
used film as a medium for the reutilization of their particular cultural artistic traditions in a
contemporary setting.

Keywords: architecture, film, art, culture, heritage

1. Introduction
In an age of globalization, it has become common currency today to consider sustainability and
resilience as more than just questions related to our built environments. We now consider
questions of cultures, communities and social traditions as phenomena that need ‘sustaining’ and
support if it is to survive into the future. This is not only reflected in the establishment of the idea
of social and cultural sustainability, but also in the very definitions used by organizations such as
the United Nations in relation to our understanding of heritage. Indeed, 2023 marks the twentieth
anniversary of the UNESCO Convention on Cultural Heritage through which the notion of Intangible
Cultural Heritage was formally established as a universally applicable definition and mode of
practice.
Under this banner, what we understand as heritage, and the way in which it is preserved and
passed on from one generation to another, have morphed and changed. Not only today do we
consider art objects, built structures or natural physical landscapes as objects of heritage in need
of preservation, but we consider artistic practices, craft techniques developed and passed on
through multiple generations, languages, regional festivals, and, as this paper will explore, culturally
specific ways of seeing and thinking. In addition, the objects and modes of preservation we consider
under the banner heritage have also changed. Today, it is perfectly normal to see digital
technologies of the most advanced form being used in the heritage sector to document, explore
and even recreate architecture and art works from the past.
Examples of this latter phenomenon include computer generated imagery to create ‘life like’
reconstructions of historic sites; laser scanning to give historians views of settlements long lost past;
digital cataloguing to archive physical objects as data; and digital tools developed in geophysics

*(Corresponding author), Dr. AMPS (Architecture, Media, Politics, Society). UK, cairnsgraham@hotmail.com
Article history: Received 19 October 2022, Accepted 05 December 2022, Published 30 December 2022
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

used by archaeologists. Closer to the topic of this paper, we also see computer aided design being
used in architectural models of buildings for tourists to visit virtually; projection mapping that
allows artists to reinterpret old buildings as sites of contemporary art, and filmmakers (following a
long tradition in their field) recreating and reinterpreting historical narratives over time and place.
What follows in this paper represents a particular variation of this last example but, more in line
with the notions of intangible cultural heritage with which we began, we will discuss films that
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document, explore and present specific artistic traditions and techniques from Europe and Asia.
In and of themselves, these films represent examples of cultural heritage, both tangible and
intangible but, of more interest here, they represent specific examples of how film as a medium
can be, and has been, used to celebrate, and in the process sustain, their particular historical
cultural and artistic traditions. The films in question are Le Grande Illusion, 1937, directed by Jean
Renoir and Tokyo Story directed by Yasujiro Ozu in 1954.

2. Cultural Contexts: From Renoir’s Europe to Ozu’s Japan.

This section describes the structure and production processes of the mycelium material.
Afterward, an overview of the usage areas and the existing examples are presented.
More than five centuries ago, a diminutive Florentine artisan in his late forties
conducted a “modest” experiment near a doorway in a cobbled cathedral piazza.
Modest? It marked an event which was ultimately to change the modes, if not the
course, of Western history. (Edgerton, 1975)
The modest experiment to which Samuel Y. Edgerton refers here was the demonstration by
Filippo Brunelleschi in 1425 of what is generally recognised as the world’s first documented
perspective drawing; a panel painting that would set the trend for spatial representation in the
Western world for the next five centuries. His now lost image of the Battistero di San Giovanni in
Florence, is credited as marking a definitive step in Renaissance humanism; the world’s first
proportionally correct image in perspective. As such, it is attributed the status of the first
mathematically explainable and reproducible image that optically reflects the spatial reality
perceived by the human eye.
The influence of Brunelleschi’s achievement would take at least one generation to be felt
however; the publication of Leone Battista Alberti’s Della Pittura, 1436, and its mentioning of
Brunelleschi and Filarete’s Treatise on Architecture 1460-1464, being key historical texts. (Damisch,
1994) They turned the undistinguished small and forgettable image by a regional architect into a
drawing of international importance for the history of Western art. Alberti’s explanation and
mapping of the science and mathematical formula for the reproduction of this spatial reality
ushered in a set of codifiable rules for artistic representation. It also laid down the grammar and
syntax of a new Western visual language; a language which would give us a “window onto the reality
of the world”. (Kubovy, 1986) From this point onwards, the mastering of optical realism in Western
art was just a matter of time. Maurice Merleau Ponty would refer to it as the invention of a world
that is “dominated and possessed in an instantaneous synthesis”. (Merleau-Ponty, 1964)
In accordance with this new language and its laws of representation, viewers were to be placed
at the centre of what they observe; the world perceived would revolve around a single human point
of view. From that privileged viewpoint, the mathematical space of perspective could be extruded
and extended infinitely. Seen in the paintings of, amongst numerous others, Piero della Francesca
and Antonello da Messina, and in the the single point perspective designs of Brunelleschi at the
Churches of Santo Spiritu and Santa Croce, Florence, it gave rise to a period of painting and
architecture dominated by a number of specific visual characteristics; deep space compositions, the
use of architectural elements to unify or demark depth planes, believable optical foreshortening
and a predominantly symmetrical arrangement of elements around a central viewing position.
However, the legacy of perspective was not simply a question of technological, pictorial or
optical advances. Nor was it purely a story of the effect of such advances on questions of spatial
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

composition, pictorial arrangement and architectural planning. Treating space as a homogenous,

unified and infinite phenomenon, the mathematical underpinnings of perspective took our
understanding of space into the realm of Euclidean geometry. Once the world could be conceived
and represented as a vast interconnected geometrical web expandable in all directions, our very
understanding of space and our position in it was changed; Panofsky would call it a transformation
of space from something “psychological” to something “mathematical”. (Panofsky, 1991) Space was
Page| 31
now something measurable, explainable and controllable. It had been mastered by “man” through
the application of his mental reason and would go on to dominate Western art and architecture
until the early twentieth century.
In the realm of art, the first major challenge to this dominance came in the Twentieth Century
in the form of Cubism. In architecture, the spatial art par excellence, it was Siegfried Gideon’s Space,
Time and Architecture that would document this challenge and attempt to transpose the spatial
characteristics of Cubism to architecture. (Giedion, (1954) Repeated in the works of other
architectural theorists, notably Bruno Zevi, the Twentieth Century notion of architectural space was
conceived in four dimensions. (Zevi, 1957) No longer a purely optical phenomenon which could be
captured through the mathematically based, and seemingly optical true techniques of perspective;
space became an active, temporal and experiential phenomenon. For both Zevi and Gideon,
architectural space, indeed the notion of space in general, was no longer a homogenous, unified
phenomenon in which a single point of view has to be privileged in artistic representation. On the
contrary, it became something less codifiable and representable in standard media; a phenomenon
that was in constant flux and always intangible. Through the introduction of time into the spatial
equation, the architects of the Modern Movement reconfigured the standard understanding of
space that had come to dominate their field since Brunelleschi’s first important church designs.
This reconfiguration of the traditional Western view of architectural space occurred at the very
moment in which the influence of Japanese architecture, and its own specific conceptions of space,
was beginning to be felt in Western architecture. The mid nineteenth century saw the reopening of
Japan to the West after two centuries of isolation during the Edo Period. In its attempts to maintain
control of the nation in the face of the aggressive and expansive trade and influence from Western
Europeans, the Tokugawa shogunate had shut its borders with The Closed Country Edict of 1635.
(Tempel, 1969) During this period the nation’s capital was moved to Edo (later Tokyo) and the
stylistic characteristics of civil architecture were imposed across all manifestations of architecture.
Consequently, the restrained style of Edo period civic architecture became clearly reflected in the
domestic arena and we see the establishment of the sukiya style of residential design.
This was particularly relevant given that the move to Edo meant a significant increase in the
construction of domestic architecture on restricted plots of land. (Okawa, 1975) In turn, this led to
the establishment of an urban domestic architecture that would characterise late nineteenth and
early twentieth century Japanese housing and which, for the purposes of this essay, we will define
as the “traditional Japanese style”. Given that Japanese architecture is incredibly multifarious, due
to centuries of influence from China and the multiple philosophical and religious influences of
Shinto and various strands of Buddhism, the use of such a defining term is inherently problematic.
Nevertheless, it serves as a necessary framework through which to define a number of important
architectural and spatial principles that we dwell on with respect to the work of Yasujiro Ozu; a
director whose films tend to revolve around the humble domestic architecture of the Japan’s early
and mid-twentieth century urban centres.
This “traditional” architecture is dominated by a series of features; a roof structure with the
large overhanging eaves that creates the characteristically dim interior demarcated by a luminous
perimeter wall of sliding panels or shoji; a fragmentary and flexible spatial plan organised around a
principal undefined space known as the moya; internal fusuma or sliding doors; a predominant use
of timber in an unfinished state and the dominance of a whole series of aesthetic principles
revolving around the notion of wabi-sabi.
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The use of these features and characteristics are underpinned by the spatial notion of ma; an
understanding of space that conceives it as inseparable from the notion of time, and thus
something that cannot be captured visually in all its nuances. A concept that is indescribable with a
single Western term, ma combines an understanding of spaces, pauses and gaps; an intuitive grasp
of events, emotions and phenomena that have been and are yet to come. It becomes intrinsically
linked with the void, with absence and with the multiple intangible phenomena that exist in an
Page | 32
indefinable space “between” architectural elements rather than in a limited, measurable space
enclosed by them.
The conceptual notion of space that one finds in traditional Japanese architecture then, is
completely different to what one encounters in the “traditional” perspective based concepts that
dominated the West until the early 20th century. Space, in the Japanese tradition, is not something
codifiable or understandable through the application of a rational set of representational rules. On
the contrary, it is something only graspable in an intuitive way; something that almost requires a
sensibility for the ephemeral; one may even say for the “spiritual”. It is the exact counterpoint to
the rational, mathematical space that perspective drawing represents.

3. The Western Tradition of Realism and Spatial Unity: Le Grande Illusion. Jean Renoir
Set during the First World War, Le Grande Illusion is ostensibly a war film. However, it is far more
concerned with issues of class divisions and social privileges at the beginning of the 20th century
than with the horrors of one of history’s most bloody and futile conflicts. In this regard at least, it
shares some of the understated narrative and thematic characteristics that we will see
subsequently in the approach of Yasuijro Ozu. Set in a German prisoner of war camp, Le Grande
Illusion is an astute, funny, and at times emotive portrait of class, nationality and religion set against
“a vague ambiance of the conflict”. (Sesonske, 1980) Played out by a cast including Jean Gabin, Dito
Parlo and Erich von Stroheim, it is a key film in understanding the political leanings, artistic
tendencies and approach to the construction of what we may call “cinematographic space” of Jean
Renoir.
The story revolves around the relationships between three French compatriots, Lieutenant
Maréchal, a Jewish private, Rosenthal, and the aristocratic Captain De Boeldieu whose friendship
with his German counterpart, Capitain von Rauffenstein, forms another of the film’s principal
themes. Through these figures Renoir investigates the social and political questions of the time; a
historical moment in which the previous certainties of class, nation and politics with which Renoir
was closely associated, were all coming under sustained and critical scrutiny across Europe. (Bertin,
1991) It also makes reference to a series of other historically relevant questions such as anti-
Semitism, battles between artistic styles and, in certain moments, changing attitudes towards
feminism. Mostly dealt with “side on”, Renoir operates through delicate subtexts, a subtle selection
of props and, most interesting in this context, a sophisticated approach to spatial composition.
The combination of these factors is evident in the film’s first notable scene in which three of the
main protagonists meet each other for the first time. Having just shot down a French
reconnaissance plane in which De Boeldieu and the Lieutenant Maréchal were flying, Captain von
Rauffenstein enters the dining room of German Officers and heads straight for the bar. Quaffing a
brandy presented to him by an elegant waiter, who subsequently relieves him of his jacket, he
orders an inferior to check whether the French prisoners are of the “officer class”. If so, they are to
be invited to dine with their German counterparts.
The scene is as funny as it is absurd with the officers being served by waiters as if they were in a
gentleman’s club in high society Berlin. Throughout the scene the atmosphere is of upper class
decorum and respect; in stark contrast to the horrors and madness of World War I captured in the
poetry of Wilfred Owen and Siegfreid Sassoon for example. Over dinner De Boeldieu and Von
Rauffenstein, who completely ignores the Lieutenant Maréchal, talk about the illustrious histories
of their respective families. They reminisce about shared events and memories, and swap stories
of horse races and aristocratic parties. At the same time, Maréchal strikes up a conversation with a
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

German of his own rank and their conversation revolves around the factories they worked in before
the war. The divisions and contradictions that the film will develop later are introduced and laid
bare from the very start. Figure 1

Page| 33

Figure 1 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir

However, in addition to introducing the principal narrative themes of the film, this scene also
introduces the type of filming and spatial treatment that will characterise all that follows. Using a
series of long takes, the camera documents the room and the actions within it. The protagonists of
the scene number around eight and each introduces himself and prepares to sit down for dinner.
They change positions in and around the room by following a strict choreography of movements.
This tightly controlled, but apparently natural movement, enables them to enter and leave the shot
without disrupting our view of the principal characters and, more importantly, without the director
having to resort to a cut at any time.
By the end of these introductory movements, the actors have taken up their final positions at
the table around which the conversations mentioned earlier take place. At this point all the actors
remain static and the camera begins its principal long take. Moving slowly in a circular motion
around the table, it passes from one conversation to another in such a way that each set of
protagonists is given enough time to deliver their lines. Thus, the scene can pass from one set of
actions, to another completely unrelated set of actions, without the need to rupture the spatial and
temporal unity of the shot through cutting.
This avoidance of unnecessary cutting became a central preoccupation for Renoir on the basis
of his view of the medium. Seen as a tool for achieving greater “realism”, the camera was seen to
offer an opportunity to capture the nature of external world with greater fidelity than any other
form of visual representation then available; it would enable the breaking down of differences
between “screen perception” and “actual perception”. (Dudley, 1976) For Renoir, this translated
into an attempt to reproduce “optical reality” on screen and thus became a reflection of what Bazin
would call the “art of the real”. (Dudley, 1976) On this basis, the analogy between the camera and
the eye became central and the need to maintain spatial and temporal unity became key. It was
precisely this unity that the most important proponent of “cinematic realism” would praise some
years later. (Bazin, 2004).
Although André Bazin does not highlight Le Grande Illusion as one of Renoir´s greatest films, he
did identify that it contains all the major aesthetic tenants that make his work “realist”; something
seen in the acting, wardrobe, narrative theme and dialogue but also, and more importantly in this
context, in this continuous “optically realistic” filming. (Bazin, 1973). One of the most important
consequences of continuous filming is the approach to composition and movement it necessitates.
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In order to follow and show multiple actions and narratives, as in the scene just mentioned, both
the movements of the camera and those of the actors must be intricately controlled, if not
choreographed. What this ensures is an on screen composition in which the multiple actions dealt
with do not distract attention from the main protagonists. In scenes in which the camera and the
protagonists remain more static, the consequences of this type of filming become more exclusively
compositional and refer us directly back to the Western realist technique par excellence;
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perspective painting.
A typical example is seen in another dining room scene; this time a dining room assigned to the
French prisoners of war in their internment camp. Beginning with a typical sequence of camera
movements that reveal the space, and all the characters in it, the camera stops in a frontal position
in relation to the protagonists (who in this case are preparing costumes for a theatrical show they
will later stage). Figure 2 In order to present three sets of actions or dialogues simultaneously, and
without rupturing the “realistic” space-time unity of the shot, Renoir sets up a clear one point
perspective image. The camera position sets up a strong centrally balanced composition in which
the space extends backwards. Renoir then positions secondary characters in the foreground, thus
leaving the principal actor of the scene, Rosenthal, centrally positioned in the middle ground.
Rosenthal occupies the focal point of the shot and is, in addition, framed by a window behind.
Through this window we hear and see the secondary backgrounded and architecturally framed
actions of other prisoners and German soldiers in the prison yard. In short, he creates a three plane
perspective image that takes its compositional pointers from Renaissance perspective painting.

Figure 2 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir

The results of this are not just compositional however. In such scenes unified space and
continuous filming become entwined with multiple narratives in sometimes complex ways. Whilst
Rosenthal speaks there is a deliberate lack of conversation around the table and relatively little
movement in the background. Consequently, the viewer’s attention is focused on the framed
protagonist. However, when one of the actors in the foreground speaks, or we see a background
action through the window, the attention of the viewer changes to fore or background respectively.
As a result, we not only see a strict control of spatial organisation, but a strict control of dialogue
and movement as well.
Although not particularly common in film, the relationship between unified space and multiple
narratives is one with a long and well documented history in perspective painting. It is discussed by
Michael Kubovy, amongst many others, who has identified that the spatial unity of Renaissance
perspective painting was used narratively in very similar ways; each depth plane being used to
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

portray a different action and protagonist. (Kubovy, 1986) In some instances the events were
intended to be read as temporally simultaneous but spatially separated, whilst in others, they were
to be read as sequential; initial and final actions occupying the background and the foreground
respectively.
Similarities between the compositional and narrative techniques of Renaissance paintings and
Page| 35 the cinematic work of Renoir may be emphasised in images such as Pietro della Francesca The
Flagellation of Christ, circa 1455. Fig. 3 In this painting we are presented with the principal action
of the scene in the background; the flagellation of Christ, whilst in the foreground three as yet
undefined figures are positioned to the right. Thus what we have are two distinct actions placed in
two distinct depth planes; a device that allows the eye of the viewer to pass between the two. Being
positioned out-of-line with each other, this movement is unhindered and further facilitated by the
compositional treatment of the architectural setting; the beam and column structure and the
quadrangular floor patterning operating as spatial devices demarcating different spaces and
directing the movement of the eye.
In Renoir’s cinematic spatial construction, architectural elements are repeatedly used to
demarcate depth planes in this way. He also locates characters in specific positions so that the
viewer’s sight line is unhindered, thus facilitating the transference of attention without spatial
interruption. The main difference is that Renoir operates with the additional temporal dimension
permitted by his medium. As a result, he can control not only how, but when, our attention jumps
between the different actions and depth planes of his images.

Figure 3 The Flagellation of Christ, c. 1455. Pietro della Francesca

Although the major similarities between Renaissance painting and Renoir’s approach to filming
are most obviously compositional, there are scenes in Le Grande Illusion that suggest multi-layered
symbolic references as well. For example, Renoir offers us a scene in which we get an image of
Rosenthal, a working class Jewish prisoner, reading a text of the classical Greek poet Pindar. Figure
4 He sits under an arch, the only important architectural element of the scene, whilst secondary
actions are played out in the background. Here the references to Renaissance compositional and
narrative tendencies appear self evident. Indeed, it is even possible to discern similarities with
specific images; Antonello da Messina’s 1479 portrait of Saint Jerome in his study coming to mind.
Saint Jerome, translator of Greek and Hebrew, is positioned under an arch whilst the extended
space in front and behind is filled with secondary symbolic elements and features. Figure 5
Given a lack of explicit comment from Renoir himself, whether such specific intertextual
references are intentional is open to debate. However, they would certainly fall into a general
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

model of cross referencing that Renoir deliberately plays with throughout Le Grande Illusion. The
most obvious example in this scene is found in the attitude of von Rauffestein towards Rosenthal.
Upon seeing Rosenthal with a collection of Pindar poems, Von Rauffestein is apparently intrigued.
He looks Rosenthal up and down before eventually lamenting “poor Pindar”. Finding it difficult to
understand how high classical culture has arrived in the hands of a working class Jew, he shows a
disdain that, given the horrific characteristics of the World War II (on the point of breaking out at
Page | 36
the time Le Grande Illusion was released) turns this apparently insignificant scene into a reference
that is both prophetic and disturbing.

Figures 4–5 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir; St. Jerome in His Study, c.1475 - Antonello da Messin

The same complexity in the filming, spatial control, composition and use of secondary textual
references is repeated multiple times. The basic dynamic involves the introduction of the scene
through a long take, the subsequent creation of a deep space composition, the presentation of
multiple actions in that space, and the incorporation of various subtextual references. Perhaps the
quintessential sequence of the film in this sense is a comic scene in which the prisoners are
disposing of soil collected from an escape tunnel they are digging. It begins with actions and
conversations that are apparently simple and insignificant. Using a tracking shot the camera follows
three French soldiers whilst they talk and stroll. When they eventually stop, they are positioned in
the foreground of the shot. They are joined by two more soldiers who approach from the
background, and once these two move to the foreground they exit screen left. Again without any
disruption to the continual filming, they are followed by the camera which now takes up another
tracking sequence, only this time following the new protagonists. Figure 6
This tracking shot continues until the two new French prisoners pass behind a German guard
positioned on the other side of a barbed wire fence. When they stop to joke with him the camera
pauses too. Figure 7. Again, we see a deep space composition with direct Renaissance overtones in
its perspective, disposition of architectural elements and narrative actions as more choreographed
movements are presented to the viewer in different depths of field. It is a visual sequence that
reveals Renoir’s skill at choreographing actions and movements, and his understanding of the
spatial and narrative possibilities of the deep space perspective image. Figures 8-9
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

Page| 37

Figure 6-7 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir

Figures 7-8 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir

Something similar is evidenced in the scene that immediately follows which begins with the two
French soldiers that exited the previous shot now seen digging an allotment in the camp. Behind
them we see a bored German guard who strolls distractedly around in the background. Figure 10
On the right hand side of the image is a long wall that runs from the foreground to the background,
perpendicular to the camera’s point of view. Operating as a compositional device that, instead of
demarking distinct planes of action, unifies them in one long lineal perspective, this wall is a visual
device that eventually emphasises the distance between the guard and the prisoners. It is around
this distance, and hence the compositional device of deep space construction, that the humour of
the scene revolves.
Initially, the prisoners seem to be simply raking their plot of land. However, when two other
prisoners enter the shot and place themselves in front of the original two protagonists, the true
nature of the scene reveals itself. Surreptitiously, the prisoners have spent weeks digging an escape
tunnel. Cultivating the allotment thus becomes a cover for disposing of the excavated ground they
have to get rid of. On the pretence of simply chatting with friends, the newcomers to the scene
comically begin to shake out gravel carried in bags concealed in their trouser legs.
Once made, the joke is repeated by two other prisoners who again place themselves in the front of
an already congested foreground. Figures 11–12 On the one hand, the humour of the scene is based
on the simple comic actions in the foreground. However, it also depends on the viewer continually
being aware of the presence of the guard who remains visible in the background throughout. It is
thus another scene based on Renoir’s control of actions, composition, movement and their
combination in a deep perspective space.
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

Page | 38

Figures 10-12 Le Grande Illusion. Director: Jean Renoir

In addition to being a clear example of the compositional influence of the Renaissance

perspective tradition on Renoir’s cinematic spatial construction, this scene again involves the
interweaving of social and political references that adds an extra dimension to the action and our
understanding of Renoir himself. Whilst the soldiers joke amongst themselves about the roles they
will play in their Music Hall Christmas Show, Captain De Boeldieu argues that he will not partake
because he has somewhat particular tastes when it comes to theatre.... “I am a realist”, he
sardonically comments.
On the face of it this comment could be read as simply a personal opinion regarding De
Boeldieu’s acting ability and tastes, albeit, one he shares with the director. (Renoir, 1974) However,
it also works in other registers outside the confines of the cinematic text. It functions as a subtle
reference to class differences by distinguishing the more “refined” artistic tastes of the officer class
from those of the privates who prefer the accessibility and frivolity of vaudeville. The constant
references to class distinctions that appear throughout Le Grande Illusion are drawn from Renoir’s
direct experience; he had fought in the First World War and later, not entirely ironically, described
it as “a war of respectable people; of well-bred people…. a war of gentlemen”. (Sesonske, 1980)
However, in the context of this essay, De Boeldieu’s preference for “realism” takes us into the
realm of Renoir’s own artistic tendencies and preferences. It refers us to the perennial debate about
artistic movements; something of particular relevance in the 1930s as the Western traditions of the
art world were being fundamentally challenged by modernism on all fronts; in sculpture, theatre,
literature and, most significantly in this context, in painting and architecture. In painting and
architecture the challenge to perspective was not only based on the ideas of space and time most
obviously inherent in Cubism however. This challenge was also animated by a fascination with film
as a fragmentary spatio-temporal medium that could reconfigure spatial representation; Soviet
montage being the main reference point in this regard.
Renoir’s allegiance to the realist tradition was not challenged by this rupturing of space nor by
concomitant developments in architectural theory. Nor was it challenged by the new
representational and temporally fragmentary possibilities of film itself. On the contrary, Renoir, as
we have mentioned, saw film as a way of advancing that tradition through a direct analogy between
the eye and the camera and, in particular, the long take and the nature of human sight. Pushing
him, in directorial terms, to resort to a very specific set of spatial compositional devices, this
approach not only stemmed from the director’s affiliation and sympathy with the Western pictorial
tradition of perspective, it allowed him to rework that tradition in the context of the new medium.
Hence, what we see in a Renoir film is not just a subtle approach to narrative, a clever and skilled
control of movement and composition, but a modern reworking of unified space centred around a
privileged point of view. Only for Renoir, that privileged point of view was not that of the painter
or viewer, but that of the camera. We see the unity, objectivity and clarity of perspective space
manifest in the control, order and clarity of Renoir’s cinematic space; a cinematic space whose
raison d'être is an interpretation of film in the realist and humanist tradition.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

4. The Eastern Tradition and Ephemeral Space: Tokyo Story. Yasujiro Ozu
In a similar way to Jean Renoir in the context of France, Yasujiro Ozu was one of Japan’s most
prestigious, celebrated and prolific directors. His catalogue includes fifty four films produced over
a career that spanned four decades. Umarete wa Mita Karedo, (I was born, but...) 1932, is generally
recognised as his first feature film whilst Samma no Aji, (An Autum Evening) 1962, was his last.
Page| 39 Tokyo Story was made in 1954, almost a decade after the devastating end of the Second World
War, and is representative of what could be called his “mature style”. It was also one of his most
successful and put him in the international limelight. (McDonald, 2006).
As with many of his other films from the same period Tokyo Story represents an investigation
into the social and family structures found in a Japanese society passing through a period of
historical change. The so called “Americanization” of Japan, a phenomenon well known world wide
during that period, is the implicit background to the film. Dealing with the everyday and centring
on the question of family, its treatment of social and political questions is indirect and the subtlety
of its narrative echoes that of Renoir in Le Grande Illusion.
Typical of the shomingeki genre, the script of Tokyo Story, written by Kogo Noda, deals with the
Hirayama family and revolves around a visit to Tokyo by provincial grandparents. (Anderson &
Riche, 1982) By centring on urbanite children and provincial grandparents, Ozu draws attention to
the gradual, silent and painful disintegration of the contemporary family. The lives of the
protagonists occupy the foreground of the film through a dialogue whose style is deliberate, slow
and sombre. Full of metaphors and contemplative phrases laced with melancholy, it gives his typical
“compendium of everyday images” a strong melodramatic tone through which the everyday
becomes poetic and seemingly important. (Phillips, 2007) In the terms of Gilles Deleuze, it is a film
about the banality of the everyday. (Deleuze, 1989)
Despite the dialogue playing a central role in the presentation of the film’s argument however,
Ozu was principally a director of images, and this film is no exception. It unites his most renowned
visual and filming characteristics; the tendency to film empty spaces, the use of a low level static
camera and the employment of architectural elements such as walls, door frames and windows to
act as sub frames demarcating the action. In terms of his “editing style” it is also typical of his work;
stitching sequences of static images together in a syncopated and deliberate series of shots which
seem to move at 90-degree angles with every cut.
It is relatively easy to see that there is a direct relationship between these visual and editing
tropes and the nature of the spaces he tends to film; the traditional Japanese town house or
machiya, with its roots in the Edo period. Revolving around the central moya space, the plan layout
of these houses is asymmetrical and modular in nature. The grid upon which it is based is directly
related to the layout of the ken, the modular system used to construct the Japanese house, and
consequently, the plan becomes a sequence of interconnected spaces put together like a series of
dominos. Related to each other in 90-degree templates for camera movements in practically every
Ozu film. (Yoshida, 1955)
Given that the spaces (or rooms) within this modular arrangement are not allocated specific
functions, and the furniture used is portable, any space can be used a bedroom or, alternatively, as
a dining room or study. Not only are these spaces alterable in terms of function however, but they
are also alterable in terms of size. The fusuma (the sliding walls dividing one room from another)
are normally constructed from timber frames with pap uner (washi) screens and are easily moved
leading to an interchangeable arrangement of spaces that, whatever their disposition, are
connected in modular relationship with the others around them. It is an architecture that, as we
shall see, offers a range of spatial characteristics that the direct manipulates and skilfully exploits
in various ways. Figure 13
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

Page | 40

Figure 13 House Interior. The Japanese House and Garden, 1955. Tetsuro Yoshida

These sliding screens add to the potential complexity of the spatial arrangement and spatial
template that Ozu follows in his filming. However, they are also what he uses to frame the actions
he films. These sliding screens fit within the modular plan and are thus themselves modular in size;
reflecting the strict spatial relationships that revolve around the ken. Based on the distance
between two columns, the ken (the construction standard of these houses) controls and indeed
creates, the modular aesthetic that characterises the architecture in plan, interior appearance and
exterior fenestration.
Thus, when Ozu frames his action using architectural elements and moves his camera through a
series of 90 degree twists, he is presenting us with a syncopated perception of the space that is
fundamentally informed, if not controlled, by the architectural characteristics of that space. When
one adds to this, the fact that his low level camera is generally considered to reflect the view of a
person sat on the floor, it is a style of filming and editing that presents us with a view of the house
interior in full accordance with the nature of the traditional domestic architectural space and its
use. In short, he creates a culturally specific cinematic on-screen space fully imbued with the formal
qualities of traditional Japanese architecture. However, this architectural-filming relationship does
not tell the entire story in regard to the principles underlying Ozu’s “filming style”.
The film historian and critic Donald Richie has underlined the roots this style has in the deep and
complex cultural traditions of Japanese art and culture. Richie emphasises that the pictorial
qualities of Ozu are not only of the product of the architecture in which he sets his films but, in large
part, result from the compositional sensibilities typical of his cultural background. (Richie, 1974)
These sensibilities, he argues, are known in the West through Japanese woodblock prints which
came to be a reflection of popular culture in the Edo period; the ukiyo-e. (Takahashi, 1972) In the
ukiyo-e we find virtually all the compositional techniques used by the director and thus a clear
indication of the variety of influences that thread themselves through his work. Figure 14 Common
to this tradition for example, is a low level point of view, corresponding compositions weighted
toward the lower part of the image, the demarcation of protagonists by architectural elements and
the predominance of actions in the fore or middle ground seen front-on; all compositional
characteristics typically repeated in the work of Ozu.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

Page| 41

Figure 14 Morning Snow at the Brothel House, 1789. Torii Kiyonaga

This tendency to employ architectural elements to define actions, figures or views, both in the
work of Ozu and in the pictorial tradition of the ukiyo-e, is also seen in one of the other most notable
characteristics of traditional Japanese domestic architecture; its relationship with the garden. As
with the architecture itself, the tradition of Japanese gardens is complex and multifarious and there
are several types, each with individual characteristics. However, in general terms it is possible, for
our purposes here, to highlight a number of shared features such as the presence of water, either
real or symbolic; the use of enclosure devices such as hedges, fences and walls to control views;
and the use of symbolic elements such as bridges, stones and lanterns.
Some gardens, such as the Karesansui, use raked gravel to symbolise water and rocks and moss
to represent ponds, islands, rivers and mountains. The Tsukiyama gardens are known for copying
famous landscapes and create very deliberate views from inside the house and garden to natural
elements in the distance. Chaniwa gardens are designed for settings in which the tea ceremony is
key and usually incorporate pathways that lead people along routes of “mental and physical
cleansing” before they enter the tea ceremony hut. Domestic gardens may have all these elements
but are distinguished from other types by the fact they are designed to be seen from inside the
residence. Designed to be seen from inside the house, they are invariably seen by somebody sitting
on the floor looking through an open screen. Consequently, the view is framed by the architectural
elements we have been describing and are also characterised by compositions in which the weight
of the composition falls in the lower part of the image. In his extensive descriptions of the Japanese
house and the Japanese garden, the historian Heinrich Engel refers to this very deliberate and
composed interior view as a “live picture wall”. (Engel, 1964). Figure 15
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

Page | 42

Figure 15 Live Picture Wall. The Japanese House. A tradition for Contemporary Architecture, 1964. Heinrich Engel

The importance of these compositional characteristics in the design of Japanese houses and
gardens is seen in the interior decoration of the houses which often decorates the partition screens
with replicas of this view or, alternatively, the view of a larger landscape. In the examples in which
the garden view is replicated, we inevitably see a framed view of a simple garden whose
compositional focus is in the lower portion of the image. When this image adorns the screen
between house and garden the replica effect is even clearer. (Engel, 1964) In Tokyo Story, Ozu
shows us all this in the most obvious way; through the creation of the self same effect on screen.
The camera takes up the position of the viewer (sat on the floor) and frames the view of the garden
from inside the house for the cinematic spectator; the on-screen effect becoming another replica
of the real view and the interior decoration that often accompanies it. Figure 16

Figure 16 Tokyo Story. Director: Yasuhiro Ozu

It seems self evident from such shots that Ozu’s positioning of the camera, his use of fixed filming
and his long static takes, are intended to be read as direct replicas of the real perception of
somebody using the house, and therefore sitting on the floor. However, as Donald Richie has
pointed out, the cinematographer of Tokyo Story (Yushun Atsuta) emphasises something quite
different when questioned on this. Eschewing the standard and long standing interpretation of
Ozu’s filming in these terms, Yushun Atsuta argues that there was another issue also being dealt
with; an attempt by the director to avoid the visual sense of depth that results from a higher point
of view. (Richie, 1974)
It is inevitable that a more elevated eye level augments the optical effect of perspective in any
spatial context. However, in the traditional Japanese house there is another factor that reinforces
this and thus forced Ozu to use a low level camera; the black lined borders of tatami mats. As a
result of their colour contrast and their linearity, these borders tend to emphasise the effect of
foreshortening when visible on screen. In order to avoid this, argues Atsuta, Ozu positioned his
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

camera near the floor, but also strategically distributed props so as to cover them up. What this
indicates is that although the relationship between the architecture of the Japanese house and the
filming of Ozu is easy to understand at first glance, it is in fact more subtle than it would initially
seem.
Although the issues raised thus far are fairly simple to identify in even quite cursory
Page| 43 examinations of Ozu’s work, this last point of Atsuta’s begins to indicate the subtlety of Ozu’s spatial
thinking; a thinking intrinsically linked to conceptual notions such as wabi, sabi and ma. In his
treatise, The Japanese House, Heidrich Engel lays out the artistic concepts of wabi and sabi in the
architectural context. In aesthetic terms he underlines that Sabi emphasises the importance of
solitude and emptiness whilst wabi involves notions of simplicity, crudeness and the elimination of
all superficial detail. (Engel, 1964) More importantly however, Engel identifies that these concepts
come from the tradition of Zen Buddhism and thus begins to draw out a link with ideas concerning
the representation of intangible spirits, ethereal forces and, by extension, the very notion of space
itself.
Most clearly seen in the pictorial tradition of Japanese landscapes, these ideas revolve around
the cultural reading of natural elements such as trees, rivers and mountains as physical
manifestations of deeper spirits and natural-mystical forces. On the basis of such a reading, any
landscape painting for example, is actually a painting of spiritual forces and not simply a
representation of the natural environment. Consequently, an artist dealing with this subject matter
is actually trying to represent or insinuate the “presence of intangible and ephemeral spirits” rather
than realistically representing the physical entities of landscape. What this results in, is a
deliberately ambiguous representation of physical features in which they are not shown in all their
detail. Rather, they are insinuated in light brush strokes, referenced in generalised lines and
presented in almost abstract terms.
This deliberate abstraction, or ambiguity, can thus be seen as an incomplete physical
representation that viewers are invited to complete for themselves. However, the aim is not that
the viewer completes the physical image in their mind, but rather, that they use the ambiguous
physical representation as a vehicle through which to intuitively “feel” the intangible forces or
spirits beyond. Engel describes this as a tradition of artistic representation that invites the spectator
to engage in an “active process of interpretation”. Understood in this way, the role of artists is to
avoid showing subjects in all their detail; the representation of the intangible being seen to be of
far greater value than a detailed optical representation of physical reality. (Engel, 1964)
Consequently, what we have is an aesthetic tradition intrinsically linked to an aim that Engel defines
as “leaving space for the intuition of the spectator”; a notion known as empathy.
Clearly, this goes against the grain of much of the Western representative tradition developed
since the Renaissance, according to which, the artist attempts to reproduce the reality of the world
as seen with the greatest fidelity possible. It certainly goes against the grain of continuity cinema
which, in accordance with its Western bias, is focused on the presentation of events in a way that
corresponds to our ideas of reality and truth, and which avoids any possible discrepancy in our
reading of a film’s basic narrative line. Indeed, the Western continuity tradition deliberately tries to
avoid the need for interpretation (or intuition) on the part of the viewer and can thus be read as
diametrically opposed to the notion of empathy.
Engel discusses empathy in comments centred on the traditional Japanese house and, although
the houses used by Ozu are not necessarily of the same generation, they share virtually all the main
characteristics identified. Aesthetically, this architecture tends to use materials that have a rustic
quality and whose surface treatment tends to be simple and even rough. (Okawa, 1975) In spatial
terms, it is an architecture whose modular organisation, combined with its use of moveable screens,
allows each space to open out onto, and into, a contiguous one. Thus, it is an architecture that takes
on a certain flexibility that is both complex and potentially in continual flux. Eschewing a single
privileged point of view, around which the entire design revolves, it celebrates asymmetry and
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

fragmentary views. It is an architecture that creates a spatial experience that is unstable, partial
and ambiguous.
Taking these inherent spatial characteristics of the architecture he employs, Ozu developed a
type of cinematography that not only used its modular spatial organisation to direct the movements
of the camera and frame his actions. He used it to introduce a certain ambiguity in his spatial
representation on screen that would reflect the ideas of empathy and intuition. For example, it is Page | 44
quite common for Ozu not to begin a scene with a typical establishing shot. Consequently, certain
visual clues that normally help orientate the spectator as the scene progresses are absent; the
relative positions of protagonists is not always clear, the size of the room in which the scene
develops in often unknown and many of its important furniture and decorative features are
sometimes concealed until later in the sequence.
This deliberate ambiguity is magnified even further by the internal appearance of an
architecture whose interiors tend to be aesthetically homogenous; a characteristic that makes the
identification of the camera’s position even more difficult to establish in its often complex spatial
sequences. It is a spatial ambiguity further amplified through Ozu’s technique of reorganising the
disposition of the dividing screens between shots; the result being that two images filmed from
exactly the same spot can appear to be images filmed in very different locations. When all of these
factors coincide; the lack of an establishing shot, a restriction of visual information, the employment
of spatial tricks and the inevitable aesthetic similarity of the architecture, we see a perfect example
of a cinematographic representation of space that goes against some basic norms found in
“traditional” Western art. They are however, completely in tune with the notion of wabi, sabi and
ma; a reading of space as an intangible, temporal phenomena that can never be wholly captured.
Some examples of this are seen in the series of images reproduced here which, as is typical of
Ozu, do not deal with any great narrative moment; the family is preparing to leave the house for a
day visit to the city. Figures 17-21. The sequence begins with an image of the parents and the
grandchildren getting dressed in the same room. It is an image that shows all the typical
compositional features of Ozu; a low level fixed camera, a balanced composition weighted toward
its lower section and the framing of the protagonists by architectural elements. The scene is filmed
in a continuous take until the parents tell their eldest son to see if the grandparents are ready. At
this point a cut is introduced and the camera repositions itself in an empty corridor. Subsequently,
the child walks past the camera and, after another cut, the scene passes to the room in which we
find the grandparents. The child again enters the scene and briefly exchanges a few words with his
grandparents. Turning to leave the shot screen-right, the child exits and another cut is introduced.
The following shot takes us back to the empty corridor through which we see the child walk again,
before the final cut positions us once more in the original room.

Figures 17-21 Tokyo Story. Director: Yasuhiro Ozu

In the shot of the corridor we see the child enter the frame, turn 90 degrees and disappear
behind a screen, later reappearing in what would seem to be an adjoining room in the following
shot. However, the room in which the child reappears is, in reality, a room on the second floor;
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

something that the director disguises by eliminating a shot of the child going up the stairs. Although
Ozu does not completely conceal this spatial information, he presents it in such a subtle way that it
is almost imperceptible; as the child turns and disappears behind the screen an attentive audience
can discern a movement of his foot that indicates he is beginning to walk up stairs. This movement
is so discreet that it is very difficult to notice in a general viewing of the film. Entirely in line with
concepts of ambiguity and subtlety in artistic representation then, it produces a “suggestive” rather
Page| 45
than a “definitive” understanding of the space.
Another slightly clearer example of this type of spatial ambiguity is seen in the shot in which the
child enters the parent’s room for the second time. Although he actually enters the room seen at
the beginning of the sequence, the father is now positioned to the left, the mother is not clearly
visible and the child himself is seen from behind. The background to the shot also appears to have
completely changed, suggesting that we may be in a different room. This spatial distribution is due
to various factors; some of the protagonists appear to have left the shot, there is a temporal
distance between the first and last images and, above all, there is a very clear transgression of some
of the continuity system’s basic rules.
According to the rules of continuity, in the scene in which the boy moves through the house and
goes upstairs, Ozu should have shown a shot of the stairs, thus eliminating any possible misreading
of the space and the actions presented. Similarly, in the latter scene, he should have shown a shot
of any changes occurring in the room; such as the mother leaving the space or the father changing
position. What Ozu does however, is very subtly break such continuity laws so as to introduce a
certain level of ambiguity into shots that have been described as “eiga” or “descriptive pictures”.
Spatially, what he is doing is complex and echoes the notions of “ma” and “empathy”. He creates a
perception of space that links it with time and unseen actions, and which thus requires an intuitive
effort on the part of the viewer to understand it. All is not revealed in the clearest way possible,
thus allowing the viewer to “participate in the reading” of the space.
This space is presented in momentary, incomplete fragments as something intangible; as
something only graspable through the mind of the viewer rather than the lens of the camera. These
filming and editing characteristics combine with Ozu’s static filming, preference for empty spaces
and his approach to framing compositions. The result is a body of filmic work that is accessible to a
Western eye, but which is clearly distinct from what is expected from Western continuity film. In
addition, when one compares the Western narrative and goal focused tradition of Hollywood to
the slow, apparently simple and open ended stories of Ozu, his films can feel narratively strange as
well. Consequently, in Ozu we have a director whose films give us various insights into the
sometimes detailed mutual relationship that can exist between space and filming. However, his
films also give insights into the spatial and cultural traditions in which he operates. They present us
with a cinematographic space imbued not only with the formal, but also the philosophical
characteristics of the culture from which they emerged; a culture in sometimes stark contrast to
the realistic concepts underlying “traditional” Western architecture and conventional film.

5. Conclusion
In Tokyo Story and Le Grande Illusion, we are presented with two apparently different
narratives; in Ozu’s case it is centred on the family life, whilst in Renoir’s it revolves around one of
the most traumatic political events of the twentieth century. In reality, however, both films use
their respective contexts as little more than a backdrop for close, intimate studies of human
relationships and cultural traditions. For Ozu, it is the relationships between generations in the
culturally shifting environment of post War Japan, whilst for Renoir it is the subtle and similarly
shifting relationships between social classes in pre World War II Europe presented through a filmic
reworking of the Renaissance narrative painting tradition. Sharing the period around World War II
then, these two directors offer contemporaneous examinations of the social tendencies and
tensions in the East and the West respectively. In doing so, they may also give us an indication of
G. Cairns / Sustaining cultures through cinematic space – the historical continuance of art and architectural traditions in 20 C Film

the relationship and tensions between the arts and architecture of the period and do so while
reusing the artistic modes of seeing and representation their respective cultures offered.
Considering the issues of contemporary architectural relevance at the time of the films
themselves, in the first half of the Twentieth Century many Japanese architects were sent to study
in the United States and Western Europe whilst, simultaneously, significant Western architects
were invited to design buildings in Japan; Le Corbusier, Bruno Taut, Frank Lloyd Wright and Richard Page | 46
Neutra, for example, all completing major Japanese projects in the 1930s, 40s and 50s. (Nute, 1993)
Taut was a particularly significant figure as he brought the West’s attention to the qualities of
Japanese architecture and its sense of space in his exhibitions and essays on The Fundamentals of
Japanese Architecture in the 1930s. Le Corbusier’s contribution to this interchange of ideas was
very different; he constructed the Tokyo Cultural Museum at the invitation of a number of young
Japanese modernists in 1954 and thus cemented the influence of Western Modernism in Japan.
Both events however underlined the potential relationship between the modernist fragmented
space of the post cubist era and the asymmetry of the Japanese spatial tradition in formal terms.
(Fawcett. 1980)
However, it is the work of the Americans Frank Lloyd Wright and Richard Neutra that perhaps
showed the closest relationship between Western modernist and traditional Japanese
arrangements of space; the work of both men taking on an ever more abstracted, fragmented
spatial sense in the years subsequent to their experience in Japan. (Nute, 1993) The two films
discussed here were both made during this historical period of architectural cross fertilization and
thus could have become historical architectural reference points in the development of the
contemporary architectural notion of space. Rather than show the similarities that would come to
characterise avant-garde architecture in both the West and the East however, they underline the
different cultural traditions from which the Japanese and European architects of the time were
approaching one another.
In Renoir’s case, despite his interest in the new possibilities offered by the visual language of
cinema, the cultural traditions he reveals, celebrates, uses, and thus sustains, are to be found in the
Renaissance. Steeped in the tradition of realism, with its origins in perspective, he saw film as a
medium through which this tradition could, and indeed should, be advanced. In technical terms he
reduced this conception to a direct analogy between the camera and the eye; the camera offering,
for the first time in the history of art, the opportunity to reproduce the optical experience of a real
subject for a viewer or spectator. Transposed to the direct analogy between optical vision and the
long take, this underlying conceptual argument led him down a path which, in terms of spatial
organisation and composition, had very specific formal consequences.
In order to facilitate the temporal nature of narrative film, he reutilised deep space compositions
designed to present multiple actions to a static viewer, or in his case, to a static camera. Often
obliged to either demarcate or unite those actions in receding depth planes through the strategic
placement of architectural elements, he constructed compositions that directly borrowed from the
iconic perspective images of the early Renaissance. Far from unaware or shy of these references,
Renoir cultivated his filming and editing style to create what may be described as “perspective
images on celluloid”. In these celluloid perspectives, different spaces are presented with utmost
clarity as visually linked homogenous realms in which actions take place in a simultaneous and
unified way.
However, the cinematic perspective realism of Renoir is not simply operative on a formal level.
For Panofsky, the narrative pictorial devices of the perspective tradition were to be considered as
a symbolic reflection of the Renaissance psyche and its focus of reason, logic and the mathematical
explanation of, amongst other things, space. Consequently, the clarity with which Renaissance
perspective represents actions and allows an unhindered interpretation of the events and space is
thus read as a reflection of the clarity of mathematical humanist thought. In returning to the spatial
traits that underlie Western humanist art in his creation of a “realistic” cinema, Renoir not only
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 29-48

revealed a fascination for the technical possibilities of film and an interest in the history of Western
art, he was also contributing to the continuance of those traditions and their fundamental values;
values evident in the optical fidelity and clarity of his filming and the reasoned, logical and detailed
control of his actions, spaces, narratives and dialogue.
By way of contrast, what we find in the work of Yasujiro Ozu is an approach to film in which
Page| 47 optical reality, spatial clarity, mathematical logic and reason are of little or no importance to the
director’s oeuvre. As with the work of Renoir however, his approach to spatial representation can
also be explained by reference to the aesthetic, formal and philosophical characteristics of the
culture in which he operated and those he wished to maintain. On the aesthetic level, we see an
interest in a simple cinematic style of cuts and fixed camera positions. Their simplicity repeats the
basic aesthetic traits that characterise traditional Japanese art and architecture; characteristics that
can be associated with the ideas of wabi.
In addition, we see an approach to composition that takes as its formal guidelines the modular
nature of the architecture in which it is filmed and the compositional traits of Edo period woodblock
prints. The asymmetrical and flexible nature of the architecture in question here however, carries
with it a different and deeper set of connotations as well. It is representative of the notion of sabi
and its celebration of the “incomplete” and the “ambiguous”. Intrinsically linked to this, is the
Japanese understanding of space-time, ma, and its interest in the intangible and the ephemeral.
Thus, what we find in Ozu’s work is an approach to film that reuses multiple aspects of Japanese
artistic traditions, but which also resonates with its spiritual undercurrents.
Through his unpredictable use of establishing shots, his ruptures of spatial and temporal unity
and in his wilful optical tricks that can momentarily disorientate the viewer, Ozu moves his cinema
away from the Western model and into the realm of what we may call cinematic empathy. For Ozu,
the presentation of space from a single privileged viewpoint, or the idea of “optical reality”, is of
little interest and of little cultural or artistic importance. Indeed, according to the Zen and Buddhist
artistic traditions, such an approach would be of little worth. Rather than capture the superficial
“physical reality” of the objects and spaces he films, Ozu deliberately attempts to veil and invite
intuitive readings; he investigates “empathy” and, in doing so, underlines the difference between
his work and the traditions it celebrates, to those traditions redeployed by Renoir and his concern
with continuity and a renaissance inspired form of realistic artistic representation.
In a crucial moment for the globalised movement artefact par excellence, the “international
style” of architecture and its approach to spatial organisation, these two directors redirected our
view backwards to two conflicting artistic and spatial traditions in danger of being lost in the brave
new world of modernist art and culture. They may both have had very different views of artistic
representation, and thus used their medium in very different ways, but they also shared a number
of traits: they used their medium in complex, controlled and deliberate ways; they revealed a subtle
narrative sensibility and, in addition; they didn’t see the medium of film as a threat to their
traditions. On the contrary, they saw it as a tool for sustaining and developing those traditions. In
the work of Ozu and Renoir then, film becomes a medium capable of preserving traditions in a time
of change and a medium that reworks both conventional techniques of artistic and spatial
representation and their underlying philosophical basis. Both the medium and its representation of
space become phenomena that have to be understood historically as cultural heritage, both
tangible and intangible.

References
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Bazin, A. (1973). Jean Renoir. Da Capo Press. New York.
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Damisch, H. (1994). The Origin of Perspective. MIT Press, Massachusetts.
Deleuze, G. (1989). Cinema 2: The Time-Image. The Athlone Press. London.
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Dudley A. (1976). The Major Film Theories. Oxford University Press. Oxford.
Edgerton, S. (1975). The Renaissance Discovery of linear Perspective. Harper and Row Publishers. New York.
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Fawcett. C. (1980). The New Japanese House – ritual and anti-ritual patterns of dwelling. Granada. London.
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Cambridge.
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Merleau-Ponty, M. (1964). Signs. Northwestern University Press. Evanston.
Nute, K. (1993). Frank Lloyd Wright and Japan. Routledge. London.
Okawa, N. (1975). Edo Architecture: Katsura and Nikko. Weatherhill, New York.
Panofsky, E. (1991). Perspective as Symbolic Form. Zone Books. New York.
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of Yasujiro Ozu. In: Screening World Cinema. (ed) Grant, Catherine and Kuhn, Annette. Routledge,
London.
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Stringer, J. Routledge. London.
Renoir, J. (1974). My Life and My Films. Collins. London.
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Takahashi, S. (1972). Traditional Woodblock Prints of Japan.Weatherhill, New York.
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Resume
Dr Graham Cairns is an academic and author in the field of architecture who has written extensively on
film, advertising and political communication. He has held Visiting Professor positions at universities in Spain,
the UK, Mexico, the Gambia, South Africa and the US. He has led academic departments in the UK and the US.
He has worked in architectural studios in London and Hong Kong and previously founded and ran a performing
arts organisation, Hybrid Artworks, specialised in video installation and performance writing. He is author and
editor of several books and various articles on architecture as both a form of visual culture and a socio-political
construct. He is currently director of the academic research organisation AMPS (Architecture, Media, Politics,
Society).
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (49-59), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si070

From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and

decentralized cinema

Murat Aytaş*
Aytekin Can**

Abstract

Developments in computer and communication technologies, which constitute the starting

point of concepts such as decentralization, virtuality, simulation, augmented reality and
metaverse, have also brought new forms of expression and designs in art to the agenda. In
addition to the decentralized data architecture and metaverse areas that emerged in
parallel with the development of network technologies, applications that increase the
user's interaction and beleaguered experience such as virtual reality, augmented reality
and mixed reality have increased their effectiveness in this field. The metaverse spaces that
emerge with the cooperation of software, art and architecture offer their users a more
similar life simulation of natural life through augmented reality vehicles or screens. Here,
users can perform new experiences for artistic production and consumption as well as daily
life practices such as socialization and communication. Metaverse spaces, which include
the design of a three-dimensional virtual universe that can be supported by augmented
reality, are free from all the constraints of the real world as a cinematic plateau. It is seen
as a great advantage that the real film set can create a cinematic work without expensive
equipment such as cameras, lights, and sound away from all the negativities of the natural
shooting conditions. The fact that the production, distribution and screening of cinema
works can be realized within this field brings a new understanding of decentralized cinema
to the agenda. Decentralized cinema, which has begun to rise in the expanding virtual
geography of the metaverse virtual space with its advantages such as virtual characters and
scenes and creative space fictions, is an art form worth examining. This study focuses on
the possible future transformations of cinema in terms of production and representation
in the context of the relationship of virtual and augmented reality technologies with
developing metaverse areas. The emergence of a new cinematic ecology; The opportunities
and obstacles it provides to producers are examined with the philosophical criticism
method through concepts such as virtual and augmented reality, web 3.0, metaverse in
terms of audience experiences it offers for screening. As a result of the study, it was
concluded that the metaverse area has many advantages in terms of the production of
cinema works, democratization of the production and distribution of works, digital privacy
and security for metaverse artists, and recognition of ownership for digital works of art.

Keywords: augmented reality, cinema, decentralization, metaverse, virtual reality.

1. Introduction
With visual applications with decentralized network architecture on the rise, modern man is
surrounded by virtual and augmented reality-based images produced through movies, computer
games, and metaverse spaces. The concepts of Blockchain, Starlink, Web 3.0 and metaverse, which
are frequently heard every day, have started to bring about many radical changes in the daily life
practices of ordinary people. Web 3.0, the decentralized data structure that Network and
blockchain technologies form the infrastructure of has combined the field of art and architecture
in the creation of three-dimensional virtual and augmented reality-based simulation universes.

*(Corresponding author) Assoc. Prof. Dr., Murat Aytaş, Selcuk University, Türkiye, murataytas@selcuk.edu.tr
**Porf. Dr. Aytekin Can, Selcuk University, Türkiye, aytekcan@selcuk.edu.tr
Article history: Received 18 September 2022, Accepted 07 December 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
M. Aytaş, A. Can / From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema

Developments in computer and network technologies have facilitated the production of three-
dimensional works in the field of visual design and led to the emergence of concepts such as
virtuality, simulation, augmented reality. As a result of the spread of Web 3.0 applications based on
decentralization, especially related to virtuality and augmented reality, and their interaction with
the field of architecture, reality and de-space have begun to be questioned. Virtuelism, which was
conceptually discussed in many different scientific disciplines much earlier, has risen again with
Page | 50
metaverse projects where different users from many parts of the world can come together,
socialize, produce works of art and experience in a way similar to that in the real world.
Projected by developers, third-dimensional designers and architects away from the constraints
of the real world, the metaverse spaces carry unprecedented opportunities for creatively
contributing professionals and users. While designers are taking their digital creativity to the
highest level without any shortage of materials and space, users have started to discover many new
ways of experiencing artistic experience alongside their daily lives in this new virtual universe.
Metaverse spaces, which allow users to do what they want in a way similar to the real-world
perception of space by connecting through their three-dimensional avatars, have also brought
innovation in terms of artistic expression. The fact that the production and performance of cinema
works can be realized within these areas brings a new and decentralized understanding of cinema
to the agenda. The relationship that the audience establishes with the cinema narrative in the
metaverse has evolved towards a new understanding of cinema based on interaction and co-
production philosophy within the digital culture where concepts such as convergence, symbiosis
and hybridization have risen.
Metaverse cinema is rising as an art form that centers on user unity such as virtual characters
and scenes, creative space fictions and is worth examining in the expanding geography of the
metaverse virtual space. This study focuses on the possible future transformations of cinema in
terms of production and representation in the context of the relationship of virtual and augmented
reality technologies with developing metaverse areas. The emergence of a new cinematic ecology;
The opportunities and obstacles it gives to producers will be examined through concepts such as
virtual and augmented reality, web 3.0, metaverse in terms of the audience experiences it offers
for screening. The emergence of a new cinematic ecology; The opportunities and obstacles it gives
to the producers are examined with the philosophical criticism method in the axis of concepts such
as virtual and augmented reality, web 3.0, metaverse in terms of the audience experiences it offers
regarding the screening.

2. Concepts of Reality and Virtuality

The concepts of reality and virtuality are an ontological issue that has been discussed by many
sciences, arts, and disciplines since the first ages when people began to express themselves. The
sense of doubt about man's own existential reality and the reality of the data he receives from his
environment through the sense organs has inspired many works of art and science throughout the
ages and has been questioned in the works produced in the fields of literature, theater, and cinema,
especially philosophy. The concept of reality has been discussed by many philosophers and thinkers
in the period starting from Ancient Greek natural philosophy and cosmology to Descartesian
dualism, who doubted the reality of the world grasped by the senses. When we come to the present
day, W.J. Mitchell states that one of the most important developments and virtuality is the 'pictorial
turn' (Mitchell, 1986). According to him, with the second half of the twentieth century,
unprecedentedly powerful new forms emerged, and with the era of video and cybernetic
technology, illusions, and visual simulations in the age of electronic reproduction proclaimed
dominance. Visuality and image production have developed and become widespread in a way to
create an alternative to reality.
In the literature, it is possible to come across different definitions of the concept of virtuality,
which we can translate as virtuality or virtual reality. The origin of the concept is mentioned in
various sources dating back to the 1950s and Ray Bradbury, but the term 'virtual reality' or 'virtual
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 49-59

space' was first used by William Gibson in his novel Neuromancer in 1984. In the context of the
effects of post-industrial social life in the novel, he defines virtual space as a place without space or
'non-space' (Gibson, 1998). This state of in space is the common hallucination of users who connect
to the environment. As an aesthetic delusion of reality, virtuality replaces embodied beings and
encounters with other individuals with interaction through avatars (Robins, 1999). Virtual space
combines the real world with unlimited possibilities.
Page| 51
According to McLuhan, technology forces any of the human senses to stand out; at the same
time, other emotions are either weakened or temporarily eliminated altogether (McLuhan &
Powers, 2001). In this sense, in connection with the rise of the visual paradigm imposed by
modernity with the help of technology, it is possible to talk about an eye-centered perceptual
revolution in which vision and the 'eye' stand out from the other senses. At the point of perception
of this fact, it has increased the reference of seeing compared to other emotional organs. Giovanni
Sartori, in his book The Power of Seeing, emphasized that the image of homo sapiens (the man who
knows), which is the product of written culture under the influence of intense and very fast visual
technological tools, has been replaced by homo-videns (the person who sees) by reducing the
sound from power (Sartori, 2004). Homo videns perception of reality has changed and changed
considerably according to the perception of human beings with the technologies of our time.
Emphasizing rising virtuality, he tells Baudrillard that truth today is now produced by miniature
cells, matrices, memories, and instruction models, making it possible to reproduce reality in infinite
numbers (Baudrillard, 2003). Virtual reality refers to the copy of a real life created by the computer
in three dimensions. When we search for virtual reality (VR)-related visuals on Google today, we
can see a clear idea of what the world is currently understood by VR. With the advent of special
virtual reality devices such as the "Oculus/Vive", the concept of VR has made futuristic space
designs interactively experienced. Users from all over the world can interact physically or seemingly
with three-dimensional designs through a variety of applications and specialized equipment.
Virtual reality, on the other hand, is a fictional environment in which three-dimensional
simulations designed digitally through computers can be experienced with special equipment and
that make people experience the real error at the highest level. Since all new media objects are
composed of digital codes, they are essentially represented numerically. That is, all new media
objects can be mathematically identified and manipulated through algorithms. According to
Manovich (2001:10), the main difference between old and new media is that new media can be
programmed through the numbers and formulas that make it up. Virtual reality experiences and
applications have started to be used in many areas such as education and art, starting from the
entertainment sector. Nowadays, increasingly developed augmented three-dimensional virtual
reality systems offer the feeling of reality in an augmented way to stimulate many senses such as
smell, hearing, touch, movement, heat sensation as well as the sense of sight of the users. Virtual
reality applications aim to bring the person together with the three-dimensional virtual space
created through technology and to make the person feel that they have become a part of that
environment.
Developments in computer and communication technologies, which constitute the starting
point of concepts such as virtualism, simulation, augmented reality and simulation, have also
brought new forms of expression and designs in art to the agenda. As a form of production with
cybernetic properties, virtuality enables the re-discussion of reality in the field of art and the
questioning of the purification from space. Unlike photography, cinema, and painting, in which
there is a scene and a look, visual works containing virtual reality have started to offer a mutual and
interactive experience with the viewer to their users. Visual design, which was initially based on
printed material, has become virtualized in image size with today's virtualization technologies.

3. Augmented Reality and the Third Dimension

Virtualism, which can simulate all possible positions of objects and space, has given artists a
great deal of freedom during the production phase. Virtual environments consist of artificial visual
M. Aytaş, A. Can / From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema

copies of spaces and objects that exist or are designed such as 3D (3D), high-resolution photographs
and moving images (videos) (Ferhat, 2016). Digital technologies have pioneered three-dimensional
designs that are more palpable and experiential instead of the illusion on two-dimensional surfaces
and the third dimensional effect that has been tried before in the field of art.
There are many different applications for a three-dimensional virtual reality experience in the
field of visual design. One of the first design applications to emerge in this field is stereoscopic Page | 52
perception. Stereoscopic 3D is the three-dimensional perception of the image watched by showing
different image signals for the two eyes to its users at the simplest level. It was first applied in the
late 1890s by British film producer William Friese Greene (Braun, 1992). The application of three-
dimensional stereoscopic is used by many visual designers and artists.
Towards the end of the 1980s, three-dimensional virtual reality technologies entered a rapid
development process at the point of the computer's ability to produce visuals with various
software. These developments have opened opportunities to experience new interaction
opportunities within the framework of the human-technology relationship. As a result of
technological developments, data have started to be converted into numerical categories by
computer. The ways in which computers transform data and organize databases showcase how we,
as a culture, organize and store our data. Transcoding this information now allows media content
and cultural texts to be re-expressed as seen in the way websites, DVDs, or computer games use
new ways of organizing/systematizing the experience and engaging users (Manovich, 2001: 45).
With all these developments, not only data but also emotions have begun to transform. Units such
as vision, touch, time, and distance have been modified through new tools, making reality possible
in a completely different form. With the 1990s, the concept of augmented reality was introduced.
Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality or VR, also known as AR, are new technologies that shape
human life by offering a new world. Augmented reality refers to a digital technology that
intelligently places images, text, or videos on top of real-life objects (Alexander, 2017). It's like being
inside and outside of a video game at the same time. The main difference between augmented
reality and Virtual reality is visual access to reality. Virtual reality literally closes users' eyes,
restricting visual access to the real world. Augmented reality, on the other hand, aims to make the
experience interactive with the real world.
The advanced dimension of augmented reality that is harmonized with virtual reality
technologies is called mixed reality. Mixed reality is a new form of experience that allows computer-
aided data to interact with the visual, auditory, tactile, olfactory senses and the somatic nervous
system that processes them (İpek, 2020). The resulting mixed and augmented reality applications
have increased the interaction of technology with the human body with a number of technical
apparatuses such as helmets that offer different visual data for each eye and gloves for tactile
stimuli in order for users to experience the feelings in this environment more, and in this way, the
experience of reality. The Varjo brand, headquartered in Helsinki, produces a variety of VR glasses
with high-end resolution. When you put them on, you start to see the virtual world so realistically
that your brain can't tell the difference between virtual and real. In a way, this creates a concept
called Phantom Sense. If the virtual glasses are produced at a resolution equivalent to reality or
very close, you begin to feel the virtual assets that are not there at that moment with a realistic
response (Alemdar, 2022). The hardware in today's virtual and augmented reality systems is as
follows (İpek, 2020):
1) Displays: HMD and OHMD,
2) Glasses: Smart Glasses
3) Head Up Display: HUD
4) Handhelds: Tablets and Phones
5) Spatial Systems: Projection
6) Motion Tracking: Sensors (Wearable technology)
7) Computer.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 49-59

Augmented reality is often confused with virtual reality. In augmented reality, visual digital
content can be added to the real environment and the objects in that environment. Virtual reality
is based on a simulation designed entirely digitally, while augmented reality relies on several
interactions that will complement the real world. Mixed reality, on the other hand, consists of a
combination of virtual and augmented reality.
Page| 53 4. The Rise of Decentralized Virtual Architecture: The Metaverse
With the rise of social morphology based on networks, for the first time in history, everyone has
come face to face with thousands of different interfaces and avatars on the plane of a single entity
that forms the infrastructure of millions of networks with themselves and others. Perhaps one of
the most important concepts that will define the 21st century is virtuality, which we can translate
as virtualization. In the literature, it is possible to come across different definitions of the concept
of virtuality, which we can translate as virtuality or virtual reality. It comes from the origin of
virtualis, which refers to the formation of the illusion that virtual or virtual does not exist but exists
by directing perception (Şekerci, 2016).
New forms of visual/auditory thinking and methods of interaction, which have been revealed
through countless experiments in the field of technology and art, have expanded the metaverse-
post-truth or alternative field of reality to reality, allowing virtuality to be experienced in various
ways. The metaverse, which we can translate as the other universe, is a word derived from the
combination of the English words meta (beyond) and universe. The term metaverse first appeared
by science fiction writer Neal Stephenson in his novel Snow Crash (1992). In Snow Crash, the
Metaverse is a hugely popular virtual world experienced by users equipped with augmented reality
technology (Ondrejka, 2004). The metaverse, which we can also express as a form of construction
with cybernetic features, provides the reinforcement of space-free on individuals. The proliferation
of social spaces ultimately gives rise to the logic of uneven geographical development inherent in
capital accumulation. Cyberspace, which Baudrillard considers as a simulation world, takes on a
utopian form of the individual's relationship with space. This situation has also severed man's
connection with physical space. Now space is nowhere and at the same time in many places. "Nicole
Stenger says cyberspace is a kind of Wizard of Oz. It is there, but it has no location" (Robbins, 2000).
Cyberspace has established a new space of socialization and consumption in the transverse or
metaverse, reshaping the conventional way of establishing common space-based relationships
between individuals in a way that is unique to network architecture
The metaverse points to the virtual reality universe where we can communicate with real-life
individuals, passing through works of art, virtual products, and objects through NFTs, with emphasis
on the permeability between different digital environments and the physical world (Wallace et al.,
2021). In the metaverse based on virtuosity, the spaces have become more encompassed and have
begun to offer an interactive work/space experience to viewers/users from all over the world in an
innovative way. In this new environment, viewers can interact with stories with more perception
by using special equipment. Virtual worlds established with multimedia facilities where graphics,
motion graphics, text, sound, animation, photographs, and images are used together are presented
with a richer content; Through virtual reality, it is ensured that people have information about
objects and places that they do not have the opportunity to see (İnceelli, 2005). Many metaverse
projects that refer to virtual spaces with decentralized architecture are emerging in collaboration
with crypto finance and NFT (Non-fungible token) technologies. NFTs, which regulate the ownership
of units of non-substitute properties such as artworks, films, and images through smart contracts,
have revolutionized the work experience. NFTs, which are produced for wider use in the metaverse,
give great privileges to individuals in the virtual space.
Metaverse universes are basically based on virtual reality technologies. Nowadays there are
many metaverse platforms that are built to consolidate multiple online spaces into a three-
dimensional platform. These platforms are being developed to allow users to communicate in three
dimensions (with virtual reality equipment within the possibilities), to participate in artistic
M. Aytaş, A. Can / From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema

activities such as concerts and cinemas, to play games together, to organize meetings and trainings
(Arvas, 2022). Many metaverse projects such as The Sandbox, Decentraland and Axie Infinity, which
are mainly based on socializing and playing games, attract the attention of many users and investors
around the world. NFT and metaverse projects are technologies that feed off each other. They are
carried out in cooperation with many commercial organizations in order to have more possibilities
and products. In July 2021, Coca-Cola launched red coats with the Coca-Cola logo as NFT so that
Page | 54
people using a blockchain-based virtual reality platform called Decentraland could dress up on their
avatars. Not only that, but he organized a fun rooftop party on this virtual platform. When we
examine these examples, we can see that NFTs are slowly being integrated into the Metaverse
(Albayrak, 2021).
Especially since 2020, due to the Covid-19 pandemic that has affected the whole world, physical
meetings have been replaced by virtual meetings, conferences and trainings. Many institutions and
organizations, especially public institutions, private companies, universities, have carried out their
activities online with various software and applications. Many programs and software have become
much more used in the public to perform virtual space and events. Many around the world have
started to invest much more in metaverse projects as a virtual geography design. Mark Zuckerberg,
the founder of Facebook, announced in October 2021 that he changed the name of his company
from Facebook to Meta. Noting that the new name reflects the company's investment in the
metaverse, Zuckerberg said that the new platform will be more immersive, that people can do
anything they can imagine in the metaverse, and that it will be a tangible internet where people
will not only look at it but be in the experience (Zengin, 2018). The Metaverse has become the
embodiment version of the Internet, which includes a seamless integration of interoperable,
immersive, and partless virtual ecosystems that can be navigated by user-controlled avatars or
twins. At the same time, it has become more accessible due to its ability to be used anywhere with
internet access and has started to be seen as a powerful and future-proof tool in business, art, and
education (Demir and Değerli, 2022). Another area where metaverse spaces are used is emerging
in the transformation of art galleries and museums.
Before the Covid-19 pandemic, people could go to exhibition areas and museums and see the
works produced by artists in their physical spaces. During the pandemic period, people's interaction
with works of art has decreased considerably. However, with the application of Metaverse projects
to artistic spaces and display spaces, users can interact more intensely and surrounded by the works
of various artists in virtually reproduced spaces. Today, contemporary museums and galleries
organize events and exhibitions with applications downloaded and directed via mobile phone. In
virtual exhibitions, viewers can participate in the act of experimenting with a new reality by taking
advantage of the bidirectionality and participation feature of digital technology. Visitors play an
active role in the formation of a participatory, transparent museum/gallery image with their new
identities that create content (Güner, 2022). As blockchain and NFT technologies transform the
work of art itself as a digital asset, they have begun to uncover the spaces where these new forms
of being will be shown, experienced, and consumed as metaverse projects. There is an organic link
between blockchain, NFT and metaverse projects that have emerged in the creation of the
decentralized consumption economy. As integrated technologies, they have moved production
away from the physical and combined consumption with the possibilities of new decentralized
digital economies.

5. The Rise of Decentralized Cinema

The relationship of the audience with reality through cinema has been discussed by many
theorists in the history of cinema. Formalists have argued that cinema constructs a purely fictional
reality. Following the formalists who claimed that cinema is a fictional narrative form, theories
were put forward that questioned the relationship between cinema and reality. These theories
focused on how much cinema can reflect reality itself. The pioneers of this theory are Andre Bazin
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 49-59

and Siegfried Kraucer (Girgin, 2019). Bazin's holistic perspective pointed to a perfect illusion, based
on the idea that cinema should be a 'holistic and complete representation of reality'.
Bazin says that the way reality is expressed that is unique to cinema should be separated from
the "reality of the subject or the reality of the expression" and related to the reality of space, and
that he should consider the technique of deep shooting and plan-sequence as the basic form of this
Page| 55 reality (2007: 112). Developments in today's computer and network technologies are moving the
visual production framework to the next position, moving towards the closest position to the
perfect illusion that Bazin mentions. The perception of storytelling and the fact that the production
framework has reached a decentralized architecture based on networks has not only been limited
to cinema or new generation viewing platform areas but has also begun to transform the audience
or users themselves into storytellers.
The emergence of virtual and augmented reality technologies has brought a new viewing
experience to the agenda for the audience, while offering new production areas for artists,
filmmakers, game producers and storytellers who produce works on visuality. The limitation of
design with physical materials and space has been eliminated, and people can visit art galleries,
museums and film spaces from their homes within the framework of three-dimensional
simulations. Dutch painter Vincent Van Gogh's paintings are simulated around virtual reality and
presented to viewers sitting in their homes all over the world as a metaverse story. The spread of
virtuality, or virtuality, through these technologies has led storytellers to question the concept of
reality as well as new techniques, methods and modes of production.
The emergence of new metaverse spaces based on virtual reality has changed the use,
experience and consumption habits of the individual and has made stories similar by establishing
various associations with cinema and game universes. In addition to the reflection of the narratives
that are the subject of computer games on the cinema screen, the technologies produced for the
game have started to be used in the field of cinema. The game engine named Unity, which is used
as a real-time simulation system, has started to make very important contributions to techniques
such as pre-visualization and drafting in the field of cinema. The introduction of game visualization
engines in the field of cinema has brought the similarity between the game and cinema story
universes closer in the field of production.
Another innovation that has emerged within the framework of the technology-art relationship
is the application of artificial intelligence algorithms to areas such as films and documentaries. The
ability of artificial intelligence to understand stories and create structures through emotional arcs
has two different effects on storytelling. The effect that can now be observed is that users
strengthen their own narratives with the support of artificial intelligence applications. The long-
term effect is that artificial intelligence can create its own meaningful stories and convince the
reader (Anadolu, 2019). In addition to the fact that internet, mobile and network technologies offer
very important opportunities for the field of cinema, applications that increase the experience of
interaction and siege such as virtual reality, augmented reality and mixed reality have increased
their effectiveness in this field.
Surreal spaces related to the representation of augmented and virtual reality often appear in
science fiction films. With today's building technology, the costly nature of such structures and the
policies of states have caused surreal structures to be designed in science fiction films for the time
being. Fictional locations and out-of-form entities have appeared in many science-fiction films. One
of them, Star Wars, presented Futuristic locations by referring to the Ancient Greek, Victorian
period at times, and surreal cities were created (Turan and Kavut, 2022). Surreal or futuristic places
that are not in reality appear in many productions in the history of cinema. However, metaverses
based on virtual reality, which are designed entirely by computer algorithms and offer users real-
life similar experiences, have begun to change cinema practices in terms of both producers and
viewers. In Steven Spielberg's Ready Player One (2018), the virtual reality universe called Oasis
shared a great prediction about the future of today's metaverse projects. In the film, people are
M. Aytaş, A. Can / From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema

included in the virtual reality universe called Oasis with various augmented reality equipment and
reach the opportunities they want far away from the restrictions of real life.
The famous game developer nicknamed Player-unknown announced that he had established a
virtual game world with a diameter of 64 km called Prologue and stated that this network would
later turn into the Earth-scale Artemis virtual universe (Alemdar, 2022). The three-dimensional
virtual world offers its users the opportunity to experience a new and unlimited space away from Page | 56
the limits and obstacles of the physical world.
The design field, which is open to innovations by nature, has included developing technology
and opportunities in the production process throughout history. The idea of using the computer
environment in the design development process was researched and implemented in the research
centers of various institutions, including universities and large hardware manufacturers, in the early
1960s (Tüker, 2015). With the 1980s, the cheapening and widespread use of computer technology
paved the way for the emergence of visual design software. This software has enabled three-
dimensional design, modeling, and visualization to be done easily. Many designers have created
many purposeful works in different fields such as animation, visual effects, and simulation,
especially two- and three-dimensional drawing. The appeal of cyber or virtual spaces is not limited
to the field of cinema. The emergence of virtual spaces is realized with the cooperation of many
branches of science and art in terms of designing and modeling this space. For cyberspace fictions,
not only software developers work, but architects also design spaces. One of them, Marcos Novak,
is the "liquid" architecture he proposes for the cyber environment. Liquid architecture is an
architecture that is materialized, not satisfied with real-world states such as light, space and form,
undergoing metamorphosis, moving, fluid and in Novak's words, music-like architecture (Turan and
Kavut, 2022). A convenient system and its structures can move by changing their shape and produce
responsive 3D assemblies that respond to emotions in simple ways (Louro et al. 2009).
Metaverses allow users to do what they want in universes simulated in a way like natural life
through augmented reality glasses or screens. While real-world films can be shown here, it also
includes the ability to produce a film entirely within the metaverse. In the metaverse with a three-
dimensional virtual universe design, users with various avatars can be transformed into players,
technical staff or professionals who will work in creative processes. After shooting a film completely
away from the restrictive obstacles of natural shooting areas, it is possible to edit it with NLE editing
software and share it with the audience in the metaverse. Although the very expensive technical
equipment such as cameras, sound and lighting that should be present in real sets reduces the
construction costs, it is foreseen that the need for new technical expertise will increase to express
the reality specific to this field in an artistic way. A report published in Forbes is a good example of
this. In India, the production company Pooja Entertainment has announced that they will purchase
virtual land in the Metaverse for their film project and shoot the first Indian film in the Metaverse,
Bade Miyan, Chote Miyan, starring Akshay Kumar and Tiger Shroff. In addition, the trailer of the
romantic drama film Radhe Shyam (2022) was released on the Metaverse and received its first
comments from avatars who are users of this virtual universe (Ekmekçi, 2022).
Digital glasses/lenses provide the transition to metaverse-type virtual universes, and the digital
copies that represent us in these universes are called Avatars. Of course, as the simulation
progresses, our digital representations will also level up, and this role can be delegated to
MetaHumans who can act identically with us in real time (Alemdar, 2022). Epic Games says
MetaHuman Creator can be used in conjunction with modern motion capture and animation
techniques to create realistic motions and scenes of human interaction designed for video games,
movies, TV, and other formats. says (Erdem, 2021).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 49-59

Page| 57

Figure 1 A shot from the interface of the MetaHuman software developed by Epic Games.

MetaHuman (Figure 1), developed by the game company Epic Games, allows users to create
their own three-dimensional virtual copies on the metaverse in great detail. Again, with this and
many similar applications, it is also possible to create actors and characters that are not found in
real life and use them in cinema productions. To work with famous players in real life, it is possible
with their avatars or NFTs in the metaverse. The Metaverse holds many potentials for new film
genres and audience experiences that are unique to the new media aesthetic at the point of
cinematic production. It seems possible in the near future that the traditional movie theaters we
are used to will be replaced by the types that maximize the user experience in the metaverse
architecture.

6. Conclusion
The metaverse fields, which emerged with the rise of social morphology based on networks,
allow for the first time in history to confront thousands of different interfaces and avatars on the
plane of a single entity in which everyone forms the infrastructure of millions of networks with
themselves and others. Metaverse spaces, which allow users to do what they want in a way similar
to the real-world perception of space by connecting through their three-dimensional avatars, have
also brought innovation in terms of artistic expression. The fact that the production and
performance of cinema works can be realized within these areas brings a new and decentralized
understanding of cinema to the agenda. The relationship that the audience establishes with the
cinema narrative in the metaverse has evolved towards a new understanding of cinema based on
interaction and co-production philosophy within the digital culture where concepts such as
convergence, symbiosis and hybridization have risen.
The perception of storytelling and the fact that the production framework has reached a
decentralized architecture based on networks has not only been limited to cinema or new
generation viewing platform areas but has transformed the audience or users themselves into
storytellers. This new virtual/cyber platform, where users can create various stories through new
sandboxes and tools, has brought the concept of metaverse cinema to the agenda. This
understanding of cinema includes the ability to produce a film in the metaverse with all its creative
processes, from the screening of films made in the real world here.
Users with various avatars in metaverse spaces with a three-dimensional virtual universe design
experienced more besieged through augmented reality have the potential to turn into players,
technical staff or professionals who will work in creative processes. From acting to creative
technical elements, the fact that the natural shooting plateaus of a film can be shot away from
restrictive obstacles makes this area very attractive. After the film production is carried out in this
virtual universe, its editing and screening can also be done within these areas. Although the
metaverse cinema concept offers many advantages in terms of production and screening costs, it
M. Aytaş, A. Can / From real spaces to virtual spaces: The metaverse and decentralized cinema

should not be forgotten that new technical expertise will increase in order to express the reality
specific to this field in an artistic way.
In this fully digital virtual universe, the relationship of the story with cinema, entertainment,
advertising, games, and social media applications has led to a more interactive structure and the
viewer / reader to become more effective in this process. The blockchain technology, which forms
the infrastructure of the decentralized data architecture, has many advantages in the production Page | 58
of works of art in cooperation with Web 3.0, democratization of the production and distribution of
works, digital privacy and security for metaverse artists, and the recognition of ownership for digital
works of art. The traditional relationship that the audience establishes with the cinema screen is
transformed by technologies and types of experience based on decentralized network architecture.
Virtual and augmented reality technologies are bringing a more beleaguered cruising experience to
the agenda. Film viewing practices, which have evolved from movie theaters to the optional genre
in the home, will take place in a more individualized and beleaguered form in the future.

References
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Journal Of Social and Humanities Sciences Research, 5(21), 844-859.

Resume
Dr. Murat Aytas is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Communication at Selcuk University, Turkey. Dr.
Aytas graduated from the Department of Radio, Cinema, and Television, Faculty of Communication, Ege
University, Turkey. He completed his master’s degree in Department of Radio, Cinema, and Television. He
wrote Visual Historiography (2016), Images in Limbo (2019), Experimental Cinema (2021), Cinema and Child
(2022). Dr. Aytas, who has been involved in many projects in the field of short films and documentaries since
his university years. The documentary films he directed received awards from multiple countries. His films
were screened in different countries, including Turkey, United Kingdom, Serbia, and Denmark. In 2016, he
received his doctoral degree (Ph.D.) at the Ege University, Turkey. His doctoral dissertation focus was on Film
Aesthetics and Narrative Structure. Dr. Aytas’s filmography interests include documentary, fictional, and
experimental films. Aytas, who is still working as a lecturer in the Department of Radio-Television and Cinema
at Selcuk University, Faculty of Communication.
Dr. Aytekin Can was born in Eskişehir in 1965. Graduated from Marmara University, Faculty of
Communication, Department of Radio-Television and Cinema. He completed his master's degree in the field
of Cinema and Television at Anadolu University, Faculty of Communication Sciences. He completed his doctoral
studies at Marmara University, Department of Cinema and Television. Head of Department of Radio,
Television and Cinema, Faculty of Communication, Selcuk University. He is the author of chapters in his books
Children and Cartoons, Short-Films, as well as Writings on Documentary Film and Cinema Illuminating History.
He has acted as a production-management consultant for many award-winning documentaries and short
films. He has been the director of the Kısa-ca International Student Film Festival for nineteen years. He is the
founder and consultant of Selçuk University Kısa-ca Film Atölyesi, which has many national and international
successes. With the support of the General Directorate of Cinema, he undertook the production and
management of the documentary films Visitor Gertrude Bell from Oxford and Old Konya Cinemas.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (60-65), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si071

A survey of the representation of modern architecture in the

cinema

Christopher S. Wilson*

Abstract

Modern architecture, a reaction to the industrialization of the 19th-century, is

characterized by a lack of applied decoration, exposed structural members, materials kept
in their natural state and “flat” roofs. It developed in Europe in the 1920s and 1930s,
particularly in Germany, the Netherlands and France, and spread to the rest of the world
after World War II. Depending on your point of view, Modern architecture can either be
exciting and exhilarating or inhuman and oppressive. This article surveys these two
opposite representations of Modern architecture in the cinema, beginning from its first
appearance in the 1920s until today. Films directed by Marcel L’Herbier (The Inhuman
Woman, 1924), Alfred Hitchcock (North by Northwest, 1959), Jacques Tati (Mon Oncle,
1958, and Playtime, 1967), Jean-Luc Godard (Contempt, 1963, Alphaville, 1965, and Two or
Three Things I Know About Her, 1967), as well as several from the James Bond series (Dr.
No [Terence Young, 1962], Goldfinger [Guy Hamilton, 1964], and Diamonds are Forever
[Guy Hamilton, 1971]) are highlighted. Culminating in a survey of like-minded films since
the 1980s, the article concludes that Modern architecture in the cinema is here to stay and
will continue to play an integral role in the making of films.

Keywords: modern architecture, cinema, Alfred Hitchcock, Jacques Tati, Jean-Luc Godard,
James Bond Films,

Modern architecture, a reaction to the industrialization of the 19th-century, is characterized by

a lack of applied decoration, exposed structural members, materials kept in their natural state and
“flat” roofs (that is, at least, they look like they are flat). It developed in Europe in the 1920s and
1930s, particularly in Germany, the Netherlands and France, and spread to the rest of the world
after World War II. This study is a comparative analysis of the representation of Modern
architecture in the cinema between the first appearance of the style until today, focusing on the
period between the 1920s and 1960s.
Depending on your point of view, Modern architecture can either be exciting and exhilarating
or inhuman and oppressive. One of the earliest films to praise Modern architecture (or at least
highlight it) was The Inhuman Woman (L'inhumaine, 1924), directed by Marcel L’Herbier, which
utilized contemporary artists and architects in the design of the sets 1. The painter Fernand Léger
created the laboratory interior for the character Einar Norsen, a Swiss scientist/inventor. This set,
a mix of Cubist and Russian Constructivist elements, represented the new, Modern style as a place
where original and innovative ideas thrive to produce new inventions. Rather than working in an
old-style interior, Norsen’s laboratory is without historical precedent, even futuristic. The architect
Robert Mallet-Stevens designed the exterior of Norsen’s house, as well as the exterior of the main

1
Other contemporary designers were involved with individual objects, all in the Modern style: Paul Poiret (costumes), Pierre Chareau
(furniture), Raymond Templier (jewelry), René Lalique (glass objects) and Jean Puiforcat (silver items).

*(Corresponding author) Ph.D. Ringling College of Art and Design, Florida, USA cwilson@c.ringling.edu
Article history: Received 09 September 2022, Accepted 16 October 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 60-65

character’s house, in his personal white, cubic and geometric style, again projecting the image that
the characters were not stuck in the past but had an eye on the future. The Modern interiors of the
main character’s house were designed by architect Alberto Cavalcanti (who would later become a
film director) and designer Claude Autant-Lara. Cavalcanti’s dining room design consisted of a U-
shaped table set on an island in the middle of a pool, surrounded with geometric constructions of
all kinds. Autant-Lara’s winter garden design consisted of oversized, abstract leaves and his burial
Page| 61
vault for Norsen was comprised of a simplistic, abstract plinth framed with bare fluorescent lights
set in a zig-zag, almost saying that even in death Norsen was looking to the future.
After watching The Inhuman Woman, Modernist architect Adolph Loos described it as a
“dazzling song about the greatness of modern technology” (Frank 1996: 941). The director himself
saw the film as a forerunner to the Exposition Internationale des Arts Décoratifs et Industriels
Modernes that would be held one year later in Paris (Shanahan 2004: 55), an event that spread the
notion around the world that the new century deserved new forms of art, architecture and design
and was a way for many artists, architects and designers to eventually transition into the “High
Modernism” of the mid-twentieth century.
Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927) and William Cameron Menzies’ Things to Come (1936) are also
famous for their depiction of exciting and exhilarating Modern architecture. Set in the future
(respectively, 2000 and 2036), these films reinforce the belief that this new style was the way
forward and would dominate the built environment in the coming years. Chappell (1975: 293) has
described the futures depicted in both films as “absurd,” but he was writing from the advantage of
a half century after these films were made, not understanding the context of Lang’s and Menzies’
optimistic attitude toward the impending future.
Following World War II, Modern architecture became prevalent elsewhere besides Europe,
which paralleled the general forward-looking attitude of the world after successfully defeating the
Axis Powers. Although some architects, like Frank Lloyd Wright, had been practicing their own
versions of Modern architecture since the turn of the century, the style became widespread in
North America at this time. Despite this general acceptance of the style (or because of it?), the
representation of Modern architecture in the cinema shifted from optimistic visions of the future
to a more sinister portrayal, where “characters who are evil, selfish, obsessive and driven by the
pleasure of the flesh” inhabited (Rosa 2000: 159).
In Alfred Hitchcock’s North by Northwest (1959), Phillip Vandamm’s house atop Mt. Rushmore
is reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright’s “Fallingwater” (1934), as well as an unrealized hilltop house
for Ayn Rand (1947), with horizontal limestone layers, wide expanses of glass, a central fireplace
and a large cantilever jutting out from a hill 2 . The house also has the more general Modern
characteristics of a free-flowing floorplan, a geometric massing of volumes and a flat roof. Although
lead set designer Robert Boyle has claimed that the film’s script, not his will, was the reason for an
open-plan, glass-walled and cantilevered house (Affron and Affron 1995: 66), the message here is
that Modern architecture is an audacious style appropriate for the international villain/spy
Vandamm 3. The style also conveniently matches the theme of the trappings of luxury that the film
illustrates, along with other contemporary architectural examples including Emery Roth & Sons’
430 Park Avenue (1953), and Harrison & Abramowitz’s Commercial Investment Trust Building
(1957) and United Nations Headquarters (1952) 4. In the opinion of Jacobs (2007: 312), “Although
its daring modernism is connected to the psychopathology of the master criminal, the luxury and

2
Hitchcock is said to have asked Wright for a design but did not want to and/or could not pay the fee that Wright proposed
(https://hookedonhouses.net/2010/03/15/north-by-northwest-hitchcocks-house-on-mt-rushmore, last accessed 2 August 2022). North
by Northwest was filmed in August and September of 1958. Since Wright died in 1959, this might or might not be the case. Set designer
Robert F. Boyle is given credit for Vandamm’s house.
3
Boyle was assisted by art directors William A. Horning, Merrill Pye and set decorators Henry Grace and Frank McKelvey (Jacobs 2007:
296).
4
Non-architectural examples of the trappings of luxury in North by Northwest include Cadillac limousines, Mercedes roadsters, Lincoln
Continentals, the Twentieth Century Limited train, Bergdorf Goodman wardrobes and Van Cleef & Arpels jewelry.
C. S. Wilson / A survey of the representation of modern architecture in the cinema

domestic qualities of the Vandamm house […] are unmistakably seductive,” ironically rendering
Hitchcock/Boyle’s design a proponent of Modern architecture.
This message of Modern architecture being bold and for misfits also appears in the depictions
of the hideaways for many James Bond villains of the 1960s and 1970s, especially those designed
by set designer Ken Adam. Although most of these hideaways end up being blown to smithereens
at the conclusion of each film, they nonetheless put in front of the audience a vision of a new world Page | 62
that perhaps that might not have seen before.
The villain’s lair in Dr. No (Terence Young, 1962) features industrial facilities such as a nuclear
reactor, bauxite processing facility and a radiation decontamination hall that could have come from
any number of Modernist architects whose work could be seen as quite industrial style (Peter
Behrens, Walter Gropius, Albert Kahn, amongst others). Adam’s design for the “tarantula”
interrogation room in Dr. No is the essence of minimalism – with plain walls, a large oculus with a
square-gridded grill, and one chair and one table. It is a composition of light, shadows and
geometric shapes that says Modern architecture = evil.
In Goldfinger (Guy Hamilton, 1964), the villain’s lair near Fort Knox, also Wright-eqsue with its
exposed wooden beams at extreme angles and large open plan, contains a Modernist game room
with wood-paneled walls and a stainless-steel fireplace hood. Adam’s rendition of the interior of
Fort Knox – completely fictional – was another industrial environment worthy of Behrens, Gropius
or Kahn, so much so that “United Artists was inundated with angry calls from people demanding to
know why a British team was allowed to film inside of Fort Knox where even the President of the
United States was not allowed to enter” (Frayling 2004). Also in 1964, Adam worked as the designer
for Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove (1964), creating, amongst others, a war room with Modernist
detailing worthy of any mid-century glass skyscraper boardroom.
For the villains’ winter retreat in Diamonds are Forever (Hamilton, 1971), an actual building was
used rather than a set: John Lautner’s futuristic Elrod House (1968) in Palm Springs. Described as
“sybaritic modernity” (Hess 1999: 18), the house literally represents “life on the edge” with its
hilltop siting, views out to the landscape and infinity pool 5.Adam’s work for Bond director Lewis
Gilbert – You Only Live Twice (1967), The Spy Who Loved Me (1977) and Moonraker (Gilbert, 1979)
– relied not on real places but on fantasy industrial complexes instead, a kind of Dr. No on steroids.
These films feature designs by Adam for, respectively, a lair inside of a fake volcano complete with
helipad and rocket-launcher, a supertanker capable of swallowing submarines with a corresponding
underwater lair, and its space station equivalent in orbit.
No account of Modern architecture and film would be complete without mentioning the
“exaggerated Modernism” (Jacobs 2007: 311) of Jacques Tati’s Mon Oncle (1958) and Playtime
(1967). Both films are critical of the new plain, geometric and minimalist style that became the
norm in France after World War II. The ultra-modern Arpel House in Mon Oncle (production design
Henri Schmitt) is criticized for being more interested in aesthetics than function, complete with a
garden path that takes a circuitous route to the front door, a bubbling fountain activated only for
guests, chairs uncomfortably low for a table and an ultra-hygienic white kitchen composed of
mostly knobs and buttons, reminiscent of Margarete Schütte-Lihotzky’s “Frankfurt Kitchen”
(1926) 6.
Playtime (production design Eugène Roman) has been described as “a movie where architectural
material, matters pertaining to architecture as well as to architecture's matter, has a starring role”
(Kahn 1992: 22). The over-arching critique of the film concentrates on glass architecture and its

5
“questionable characters also inhabit Lautner houses in Body Double (Brian de Palma, 1984) [The Chemosphere, 1960], Lethal Weapon
2 (Richard Donner, 1989) [Garcia House, 1962], and The Big Lebowski (Joel and Ethan Coen, 1998) [Sheats-Goldstein House, 1963].”
(Jacob 2007: 311).
6
In all fairness, Tati also critiques aspects of the non-Modern town illustrated in the film: the vegetable sellers who are enjoying a
cocktail at 10:00am, the street sweeper who carries out a long debate (on what topic?) instead of cleaning, and the fruit seller who
angles his truck so as to “tip the scale” in a more favorable direction. His architectural critique comes from the main character’s circuitous
route to his apartment throughout almost the entire building (a product of the house being chopped up into apartment over the years).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 60-65

associated layers of transparency, reflection, surveillance and framing. The hapless main character
gets lost in a world where he can see his destination, yet he is never able to actually arrive there.
In one memorable scene, this character shatters the glass door of a jazz club but is able to hide this
fact by holding the handle in mid-air, simulating the opening-and-shutting of that door. In another
scene, a worker asks an office building doorman for a light, but both do not realize the glass pane
between them until cigarette and lighter bump into it, forcing them to move over to an open door
Page| 63
(which is, of course, made of glass).
Another critique of Modern architecture seen in Playtime is the anonymity or heterogenous
nature of the style. Posters for London, the USA, Mexico and Stockholm at a travel agency, for
example, all contain the same bland – Modern – building, curiously very similar to the Esso Tower
at La Defense, Paris (Jacques and Pierre Gréber, 1963). Tati famously constructed the entire 162,000
square-foot Modernist city-set for Playtime from scratch near Vincennes, outside Paris 7. This set is
also primarily made up of the same building found in the travel agency posters – extending the gag
to Paris. Indeed, the first and final scenes of the film were shot at the brand new and shiny Orly
Airport, one of the few real buildings used in the film.
Tati’s criticism of the Modern environment can be considered light-hearted when compared to
that of his countryman Jean-Luc Godard. The minimalist apartment of the main characters in
Contempt (1963) can be seen as either a result of or metaphor for the breaking down of their
relationship. The apartment and its furnishings “are part of the problem, as their inhumanely
geometric contours contribute to the couple incomprehensions and miscommunications” (Brody
2008: 165). Later in the film, it is the Modernist icon Villa Malaparte (Curzio Malaparte
with Adalberto Libera, 1938-42) on Capri that serves the same purpose: it is in this building, with its
geometric simplicity and windswept rooftop overlooking an infinite sea, that the wife of the main
character is caught kissing another man. This “fascinating hybrid between theater and architecture”
(Iacovou 2021: 260) serves as a stage set for the collapse of a couple’s feelings for each other,
rendering Modern architecture as the place (or even reason?) where that happens.
Godard’s Alphaville (1965) is even more extreme in its criticism of the Modern environment,
linking it hand-in-hand with government surveillance. The film “depicts a world of disembodied
computerized voices, flashing signals, directive arrows, tall towers, dark streets and fluorescent
interiors (Borden 2002: 217). Lastly, Godard’s Two or Three Things I Know About Her (1967), which
has been called “a critique of Gaullist urban development as a form of generalized prostitution”
(Smith 2015: 23), takes place amongst the transformation of suburban Paris during the construction
of its ring road (périphérique). The film takes place within in an alienating environment of concrete
highways and barren esplanades connecting dispersed, anonymous apartment blocks. Here, the
government uses the Modern environment not for surveillance purposes, but to promote
conspicuous consumption (buy more cars, shop at out-of-town shopping malls, etc).
Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange (1971) continued this theme into the 1970s and by the
1980s, when the criticism of Modern architecture reached its peak via “post-Modernism,” such
representations became common, especially in science-fiction films such as in Ridley Scott’s Blade
Runner (1982), Terry Gilliam’s Brazil (1985), and Paul Verhoeven’s Robocop (1987) and Total Recall
(1990). It seemed as if the future was dystopian and Modern architecture was to blame. This
equation of Modern architecture with dystopia had a resurgence in the 2010s, albeit not necessarily
in films set in the future, with Gary Ross’ Hunger Games (2012), Pete Travis’ Dredd (2012), Denis
Villeneuve’s Enemy (2013), Alex Garland’s Ex Machina (2014), Drake Doremus’ Equals (2015), and
Ben Wheatley’s High Rise (2015, set in the 1970s) being a representative selection.
Modern architecture depicted as thrilling, fashionable and chic never went away, it was just
subsumed by the more popular dystopian theme. Modern homes designed by John Lautner are
particular favorites, not just for James Bond films, having starring roles in Brian de Palma’s Body

7
The Playtime set used 65,000 cubic yards of concrete, 42,300 square feet of plastic, 34,2000 square feet of timber and 12,600 square
feet of glass (Kahn (1992), citing a 1978 NYU PhD by Lucy Fischer entitled Home Ludens: an Analysis of Four Films by Jacques Tati).
C. S. Wilson / A survey of the representation of modern architecture in the cinema

Double (1984) [The Chemosphere, 1960], The Coen Brothers’ The Big Lebowski (1998) [Sheats-
Goldstein House, 1963] and Tom Ford’s A Single Man (20090 [Schaffer House, 1949]. This trend also
reappeared in the 2000s in the spacious and sleek lake house of Simon West’s When a Stranger
Calls (2006); in Luca Guadagnino’s I Am Love (2009), which utilizes Piero Portaluppi’s Villa Necchi
Campiglio (1935) as the residence of a rich industrialist; in Roman Polanski’s The Ghost Writer
(2010) where the eponymous character lives in a sleek minimalist house with a muted color palette;
Page | 64
and in Joanna Hogg’s Exhibition (2013), which utilizes James Melvin’s own house that he designed
for himself in 1969 (re-designed by Sauerbruch Hutton in the 1990s).
Most recently, Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite (2019) contrasts the expansive and luxurious Modern
house of a wealthy family with the cramped and meager accommodations of their home help and
Sam Levinson’s Malcom & Marie (2021) takes place during the course of a night in the open-plan,
airy, and Modern Caterpillar House designed by architect Jonathan Feldman (2011). A final nod here
belongs to Kogonada’s Columbus (2017), which does not necessarily portray Modern architecture
as exciting and thrilling, but certainly highlights the collection of architectural masterpieces located
in that Indiana town from Eero Saarinen, I.M. Pei, Venturi Scott Brown, Cesar Pelli and Richard
Meier, amongst others.
In conclusion, the representation of Modern architecture in the cinema is either favorable –
resulting in bright and futuristic scenes – or unfavorable – resulting in dark and oppressive scenes,
matching the particular tone of each film. Whether portrayed as exciting and exhilarating or
inhuman and oppressive, Modern architecture has played and will continue to play an integral role
in the making of films to come.

References
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The Films are Not Enough, Robert G. Weiner, B. Lynn Whitfield and Jack Becker, eds., Newcastle upon
Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 49-59.
Hess, Alan (1999), The Architecture of John Lautner, London: Thames & Hudson.
Iacovou, Popi (2021), “An Animated Portrait of Casa Malaparte: Filmic Practice as Design Research in
Architecture,” Visual Research in Architecture, Igea Troiani and Suzanne Ewing, eds., 260-75.
Jacobs, Steven (2007), The Wrong House: The Architecture of Alfred Hitchcock. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers.
Kahn, Andrea (1992), “Playtime with Architects,” Design Book Review 24, 22-29.
Ockman, Joan (2000), “Architecture in a Mode of Distraction: Eight Takes on Jacques
Tati’s Playtime,’ Architecture and Film, Mark Lamster (ed.), New York: Princeton
Architectural Press, 171-96.
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Oppenheim, Chad and Andrea Gollin, eds. (2019), Lair: Radical Homes and Hideouts of Movie Villains, Miami:
Tra Publishing.
Penz, François (1997), “Architecture in the Films of Jacques Tati,” Cinema and Architecture: Méliès, Mallet-
Stevens, Multimedia, François Penz and Maureen Thomas (eds), London: British Film Institute, 62-69.
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Design in Hollywood’s Golden Age, Jefferson, NC: MacFarland and Company.
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Mark Lamster (ed.), New York: Princeton Architectural Press.
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http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2008/nov/04/james-bond-architecture. Last accessed 2
August 2022.
Schonfield, Katherine (2000), Walls Have Feelings: Architecture, Film and the City, New York: Routledge.
Shanahan, Maureen G. (2004), “Indeterminate and Inhuman: Georgette Leblanc in L'Inhumaine (1924),”
Cinema Journal, 43: 4, 53-75.
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Press.

Resume
Dr. Christopher S. Wilson is an Architecture and Design Historian at Ringling College of Art + Design in
Sarasota, Florida, USA. He is also the “Scholar-in Residence” of the non-profit Architecture Sarasota, a recent
merger of the Sarasota Architectural Foundation and the Center for Architecture Sarasota. Wilson holds a
BArch from Temple University, Philadelphia/USA; an MA from The Architectural Association, London/UK, and
a PhD from Middle East Technical University, Ankara/TURKEY. Before entering the world of academia, Wilson
worked as an architect in Philadelphia, Berlin, and London, and is registered with RIBA. Most recently, Wilson
has written the Sarasota chapter in a monograph on the life and work of Sarasota School architect Victor
Lundy, published by Princeton Architectural Press (2018), and an analysis of the usage of modern architecture
in the TV 1970s series The Rockford Files (Design History Beyond the Canon, Bloomsbury, 2019). In January
2023, Intellect Books will publish Re-Framing Berlin: Architecture, Memory-Making and Film Locations by
Wilson and co-author Gul Kacmaz Erk.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue (66-78), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si072

Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and

television

Salih Ceylan*

Abstract

Space settlement as a science fiction theme has been very popular in the last 70 years in
cinema and television. Gaining its roots from scientific and technological developments, the
topic evolved throughout decades to become much more comprehensive nowadays. The
evolution that started with physical models to depict the space station as a pure geometric
form continues today with much more complex structures that express the infrastructure,
features, and appearance of a space settlement. Through developments in space
technologies, together with the progress in computer generated imaging methods,
contemporary movies represent space stations and settlements in a much detailed way.
Therefore, the architecture of the space settlement in cinema and TV becomes a
remarkable theme. Consequently, the role of architects in the design of space settlements
in cinema and TV increases. This paper presents an analysis of the architectural evolution
of space stations and settlements in cinema and TV through examples with a chronological
order from 1950s to 2000s. The analysis is based on the relationship of scientific
requirements of a space settlement and existing scientific studies on the design of space
settlements with their reflections on the cinema and television industries. The outcomes of
the analysis put forth that the detail level, functionality, and architectural style of space
settlements in movies evolved through time. Therefore, architects’ role in movies and the
design of space settlements shall increase thanks to the developments in representation,
production, and construction technologies.

Keywords: space settlements, space architecture, architecture and cinema, science fiction

1. Introduction
The roots of humankind’s interest in space lays back deep in history. In the early days of
civilizations, human beings observed the sky and the celestial bodies from both religious and
scientific points of view. Mayan civilization built structures for astronomical investigations around
8000 BC, and Egyptians started to use a calendar that defines a year composed of 365 days based
on the movement of the sun around 4000 BC. The relationships between stars and megastructures
like the pyramids of Egypt, as well as Stonehenge is still an issue under harsh debate today (Fix
2017). During the Age of Enlightenment had the chance to get a deeper look into space, free from
the pressure of religion. That is the time when some significant progresses on space exploration
were fulfilled; like the discovery of Jupiter’s four biggest moons by Galileo Galilei, the description
of the movement celestial bodies in the solar system by Nicolaus Copernicus, or Keppler’s studies
on the geometric structure of the solar system.
In the industrial age, space explorations went hand in hand with the research on other relevant
fields of science, allowing astronomers to advance in observing the space with bigger and more
comprehensive telescopes. This progress ended up with the discovery of new planets in the solar
system like Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, as well as Edwin Hubble’s discovery of Andromeda Galaxy

*(Corresponding author), Assoc. Prof, Bahçeşehir University, Türkiye, salih.ceylan@arc.bau.edu.tr

Article history: Received 03 September 2022, Accepted 16 October 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

which led him to create a classification system for galaxies. At the same time, development in
transportation technologies using liquid fuel transformed the dream of space travel into reality with
serious scientific foundation. In 1895, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky published his article on the space
flight using a rocket that works in vacuum. In 1926, Robert Goddard launched his first rocket
powered by liquid fuel. These and other improvements led to the beginning of the space age that
started with the launch of Sputnik I into orbit by the Soviet Union in 1957. Since then, the space
Page| 67
race continues with increased speed and the addition of new actors to the story. Nowadays,
permanent life in space is no longer a dream but a scientific reality, thanks to all the previous
contributions in the history.
Along with scientific research on space exploration, creative work both in literature and cinema
have been executed to utilize present space as a science-fiction theme, especially starting from the
second half of the 19th century. There is a mutual relationship between science-fiction literature
and scientific studies on the subject of space. Visionary works are triggered by scientific and
technological developments, whereas they also inspire scientific studies with their creative but
reasonable insights on issues like space stations or habitats. This paper presents a study that
depends on creative work and scientific studies at the same time, concentrating on the architectural
evolution of space settlements in cinema and television through samples that are inspired from
scientific studies. The paper firstly talks about the scientific realities of space stations or
settlements, providing a theoretical framework for any creative work in literature. Afterwards,
space settlements in written literature are presented shortly, as the main focus of the study is on
space settlements in cinema and television. Following chapters of the paper are presented in a
chronological order to categorize space settlements in cinema and television with the perspective
of their contextual approach. Eventually, the paper is finalized with an overall evaluation and
discussions.

2. Scientific studies on space settlements

Scientific studies on space settlements are inspired and encouraged by the developments in
rocket technologies as a reflection of the industrial revolution on transportation. Additionally,
military aims of developed countries strengthened the financing of such research as they would
definitely provide an advantage for the ones who made significant progress in those technologies.
Many individuals contributed to the development of space flight and eventually space stations and
settlements. In the beginning of the 20th century, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky foresaw that a space flight
could be performed using a rocket. He also pioneered the idea and made calculations for a
permanent settlement in space. Later on, Hermann Oberth wrote his book Die Rakete zu den
Planetenräumen (The Rocket into Planetary Space) in 1923 (Oberth, 1923). In 1928, Guido von
Pirquet proposed his idea of building a space station in low earth orbit for travels to other planets
(Burgess, 1993). Based on the previous work of Tsiolkovsky, Hermann Potocnik in 1929 presented
das Wohnrad (The habitation wheel) in his book Das Problem der Befahrung des Weltraums: der
Raketen-Motor (The Problem of Space Travel: The Rocket Motor) as a rotating torus shaped
settlement in space (Potocnik, 1929).
Although the second quarter of 20th century had been a slow period regarding the research on
space settlements due to the military problems all around the world, the end of WWII started a
space race between USA and USSR which has been a strong accelerator for space research. In this
period, the theoretical work from the previous times became real and humanity experienced
breakthroughs one after the other. First rocket to outer space, first crewed space programs, first
humans in space, first men on the moon: All these significant incidents happened thanks to the
space race in the second half of the 20th century. It continued with the construction of the first
space stations as the only habitable structures outside earth: Russia’s Salyut, Sputnik, and Mir
stations, Skylabs and ISS of the USA (event though ISS is the International Space Station, its biggest
stakeholder is the USA), and Tiangong of China, one of the emerging competitors of the space race
that is still going on.
S. Ceylan / Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

Besides all these theoretical and practical developments in space studies, there are 3 main
proposals for space settlements that are scientifically proven, yet still not constructed due to their
enormous sizes and being economically not feasible. The Bernal Sphere, O’Neill Cylinders, and the
Stanford Torus. Despite being not constructed until present days in real life, these visionary
structures have inspired a lot of other scientific studies, as well as many science-fiction work in
literature, cinema, and television.
Page | 68
The Bernal Sphere
The Bernal Sphere is named after its designer John Desmond Bernal and consists of a giant globe
that has a habitable inner surface. It has approximately 500 meters of a diameter and 1,600 meters
in circumference, and it houses around 10,000 individuals. In addition to the living space as a
sphere, there are tubes on its both sides where the plant-growing and agricultural activities are
managed. Additionally, the settlement includes solar panels allocated around the globe to transmit
the sunlight into the living area of the sphere (National Space Society, 2002). The atmosphere inside
has the same characteristics as the one on Earth, and the globe rotates at a certain speed (1.9 times
per minute) around its equator on the north-south axis to create a gravitation pull equal to that of
the Earth (Ceylan, 2018).
O’Neill Cylinders
O’Neill Cylinders are the creation of physics professor Gerard O’Neill from Princeton University.
It is a system that consists of 2 cylinders that rotate reversely with the same pace. The size of each
cylinder is gigantic: About 32 kilometres in length and 6.5 kilometres of diameter. Therefore, it can
accommodate a population of a couple millions people. Each cylinder is composed of three
habitable surfaces along the lateral surface, and between them there are three transparent layers
that transmit the sun rays to the inner surfaces in a controlled manner and provide the day and
night formation (Ceylan, 2018). In addition to the habitable surfaces, there are ring shaped modules
for agricultural activities and their climatic and environmental conditions are managed in
accordance with the intended agricultural production strategy (CNN International 2016).
The Stanford Torus
The concept of the Stanford Torus was first released in 1975 in a summer workshop at Stanford
University in collaboration with NASA. The main body is connected to its central axis with tubes and
rotates continuously to create a gravitational force inside of its outer circle equal to the Earth’s
gravity.

Figure 1 An Illustration of the Interior View of a Torus-Shaped Space Colony. (Source: CNN 2016)
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

Living spaces in the Stanford Torus are allocated on the inner surface overlooking towards the
central axis, as all infrastructure is solved in a mass in the centre. Mobile solar panels between the
central module and torus provide controlled access of sunlight to the inside of the colony (Socks
Studio 2011). Like the Bernal Sphere and O’Neill Cylinders, Stanford Torus has inspired a lot of other
proposals for space settlements, along with many science fiction works in literature.
Page| 69 3. Space settlements in literature
The interest on space settlements in literature goes parallel with the scientific developments.
Although the first samples of fictional work on life outside the world dates back to the 17th century
in the works of John Wilkins and Francis Godwin, the first known fictional book about a space
settlement is the Brick Moon by Edward Everett Hale (1869). The story is about a giant globe made
of brick that is accidentally thrown into Earth orbit while there still workers on it. The crew that
build the globe eventually become first space colonists.
19th and 20th centuries have been very fruitful in terms of science fiction work in literature. In
1865, Jules Verne published one of the most popular books in science fiction from the Earth to the
Moon. Later on in 1897, Kurd Lasswitz, who is named is the father of German science fiction, wrote
his ground-breaking novel Auf Zwei Planeten (On two Planets). In the second half of the 20th
century, Sir Arthur Charles Clarke, focused on the topic of space colonization and had several novels
like Prelude to Space, Islands in the Sky, and the Sands of Mars. His 1968 novel 2001: A Space
Odyssey was developed concurrently with its movie version and has become one of the most iconic
science fiction works about space in history. Some of the other important science fiction novels in
history are Nemesis by Isaac Asimov in 1989, Station in Space by James Gunn in 1958, Ringworld by
Larry Niven in 1970, Neuromancer by William Gibson in 1982, and Centrifugal Rickshaw Dancer by
William John Watkins in 1985 (Westfahl, 2000). More recent samples for space settlements in
literature are Kim Stanley Robinson’s novels Aurora in 2015 and 2312 written in 2012.

4. Space settlements in Cinema and Television

The depictions of space stations or settlements in cinema and television started in the second
half of the 20th century. With their scientific foundations were maturated and representation in
literature were more common, it was possible to transfer the idea of space settlements into cinema
and television. There has been enormous changes in the detail levels of the depiction of space
settlements, mostly based on the technologic developments. Especially after the developments in
computer generated imagery (CGI) effects, the moviemakers and producers have become more
courageous to work on the topics of space settlements. Nowadays, there is a huge amount of
movies or series that include space settlements or space stations, all as results of a 70-year
evolution that still continues.
There are different ways for the categorization of space settlements in cinema and television.
Westfahl (2009) categorizes them based on their function, size, or location, in addition to their
appearance time. In this article, the author tries to approach space settlements in cinema and
television based on their chronological order of appearance and categorize them based on their
common points in their era of existence.
Era of primitive optimism (1950s)
Movie producers’ interest on space stations started in parallel to the scientific breakthroughs in
rocket science and space exploration. The first serious science fiction movie about outer space is
considered Frau im Mond (Woman in the Moon), a 1929 German movie by Fritz Lang. Even though
the movie had a lot of influence for further space research like the countdown from ten to zero, the
usage of multistage orbital rockets, or the crew reclining on horizontal beds to cope with the G-
forces during the lift-off, it does not include a space station but a spaceship that brings the crew
from the Earth to the Moon (Benson, 2019). For the first movie including a space station people
had to wait until fifties. The 1953 movie Project Moon Base includes a disc shaped space station
S. Ceylan / Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

that orbits the Moon and provides transfer for scientific research between the Earth and Moon
through space vessels.

Page | 70

Figure 2 The space station in the movie Project Moon Base (scan QR code for the open source video).

Later in 1955, another movie, Conquest of Space introduced a space station in the form of a
wheel that orbits the Earth (Miller, 2016). In the beginning of the movie, the station is presented
with the following words: “This is a story of tomorrow or the day after tomorrow when the men
have built a station in space, constructed in the form of a great wheel and set a thousand miles up
from the earth, fixed by gravity and turning around the world every two hours. Serving a double
purpose: an observation post in the heavens, and a place where a spaceship can be assembled and
then launched to explore other planets in the vast universe itself in the last and greatest adventure
of mankind: a plunge towards the conquest of space.” The form of the space station unofficially
refers to the previous designs by Tsiolkovsky and Potocnik.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

Page| 71

Figure 3 The space station in the movie Conquest of Space (scan QR code for the open source video).

Space station idea has been mentioned in TV series in the 1950s as well. In the 1959 series Men
into Space, the third episode is dedicated to space stations and entitled as Building a space station
(Maguire and Weitkamp, 2016). The episode is about the assembly of a prefabricated space station
in Earth orbit. The space station appears in the later episodes of the series as well.
In these early examples of space stations in cinema and television, it is obvious that these works
are produced quickly and cheaply (Westfahl, 2016), in parallel to the primitive conditions of movie
production technologies. However, the structural principles of the space stations are based on
scientific facts. The optimism about the future of space exploration and human beings’ domination
in outer space is also felt in the work of this era. Due to the lack of details, the architectural
characteristics hard to trace in the given samples. They mostly consist of the overall depictions of
the space station itself through a scaled model and some interior shots that are not much different
from regular spaces on Earth.
Era of scientific progress (1960s-1970s)
Next decades witnessed more detailed and comprehensive work about space stations in cinema
and television, most probably thanks to the acceleration and new achievements in the space race
between USA and USSR. It reached its peak with 2001: A Space Odyssey, the cult movie by Stanley
Kubrick based on Arthur C. Clarke’s scenario. The movie is still one of the most popular science
fiction movies of all times because of its precise scientific statements and the level of details both
in the physical environment and the movement of the people in places with artificial gravity.
S. Ceylan / Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

Page | 72

Figure 4 Space station in the movie 2001: A Space Odysssey (scan QR code for the open source video).

Space Station V, the main station in the movie orbiting Earth consists of double wheels rotating
around the central axis with certain pace in Earth orbit. The landing docks of the station are also in
the central hub of the wheel where the living areas are allocated within the torus shaped masses in
the peripheries. The station is used as a transfer hub for travels from the Earth to other planets and
the Moon. It features a hotel, a restaurant, lounge areas, and telecommunication booths (Benson,
2018). The interior spaces in the Space Station V are designed with a minimalistic style, reflecting
the modernist movement in the 20th century. There is no overuse of colours, most of the surfaces
are white, only some furniture are highlighted through the use of bright red colour.
The scientific approach that peaked with 2001: A Space Odyssey sustained by Tarkovsky’s 1972
movie Solaris. The movie is even called as a response to Kubrick by some critics (Guidry, 2015).
However, it is not the focus of this paper. The structural design of the space station is very similar
to Space Station V, consisting mainly of torus shaped masses for main functions, only with a more
complicated infrastructure in the central hub. The station’s functions are more basic for research
and living purposes and the shape of the torus is also visible from the interiors, especially in the
corridors.
Another remarkable movie is Silent Running in 1971 as it includes in the space station botanical
gardens for endangered species from the Earth under huge geodesic domes which were invented
and introduced by Buckminister Fuller few decades before. Therefore, the space station contains
its own ecosystem. Even though the scientific foundation for the structure and mechanism of the
space station is not made clear, the movie is remarkable as an environmental themed post-
apocalyptic movie. Other important works from that period are TV series Starlost in 1973 and
cinematic series Star Wars with the infamous Death Star in 1977. The architecture of the space
stations seems more diverse, based on the increased number of works in this field, and there are
more details to be followed about the physical space provided in the stations. The emphasis on
technology becomes more visible and with the addition of different concerns like humane,
psychological, and ecological ones, the structure of the stations become more complicated as well.
Era of increasing complexity (1980s-1990s)
The contact with species from different points of the universe and creating relationships
between them started to become a focal point in the movies and TV after 1970s. 1980s were the
years where this approach advanced towards space stations that function as intergalactic hubs
where many different species come together. Some stations had particular functions like military
bases or commercial centres as some of them were mixed use complex structures. In this regards,
the most prominent TV and cinema series was Star Trek Saga which started in 1968, but reached
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

its peak with cinema movies and additional series in the 1980s. Star Trek had a huge intergalactic
universe that includes many species in different planets. Therefore, the appearance of space
stations as transfer hubs and meeting points became a necessity. Many space stations were
introduced in the Star Trek series: The most popular one is the Deep Space 9 that had its own series
between 1993 and 1999. There were other Deep Space stations in addition to spacedocks,
starbases, skylabs, and other stations with various purposes. In 1982 movie Wrath of Khan, the
Page| 73
Regula I space station appears as a scientific research laboratory and starbase. The station consists
of numerous corridors as in a labyrinth complex. Functional spaces in the station are operation
centre, laboratories, a restaurant, a courtroom, living quarters, guest quarters and transporter
rooms (Memory Alpha, 2022). In the next movie The Search for Spock in 1984, the Earth Spacedock
appears as a huge transportation and military hub that orbits around the Earth. In addition to its
military and traffic control functions, Spacedock also became a commercial focal point (Memory
Beta, 2022).

Figure 5 Space station from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine (scan QR code for the open source video)

Additionally, 1980s were the period when the appearance of space stations in movies was no
longer caused by only technological achievements, but also by ecological and environmental
necessities. Accidents, environmental disasters, or warfare in Earth caused the search for survival
options outside the planet. Movies and TV series that included space stations are; Aliens in 1986
with Gateway station, TV series Babylon 5 between 1993-1998, 1997 movie Event Horizon with
Daylight Station, Titan A.E. with Titan station in 2000, same year Mission to Mars with World Space
Station and Red Planet that includes High Orbit space station.
Era of environmental awareness (2000s)
21st century changed many things in the world, along with them are the relationship between
human beings and nature, studies on space, and movie production techniques. A mixture of these
three elements changed the way space stations and settlements in cinema and TV are handled.
Firstly, environmental problems became much more visible and immediate action was required.
Secondly, space studies have broken free from governments and with the increasing interest of
private companies, developments regarding regular human beings’ existence in Space accelerated.
S. Ceylan / Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

Thirdly, computer generated imagery (CGI) effects changed the nature of movie production, making
any imagined scene possible to be presented. Space station scenes produced through CGI methods
replaced physical models from the previous decades, and well-prepared movies became much
more realistic. In this era, many movies that include space stations have been produced. Among
them are Ender’s Game in 2013 with the space station Battle School, Geostorm in 2017 with
International Climate Space Station, Ad Astra in 2019 with Norwegian biomedical research space
Page | 74
station, 3022 in 2019 with Pangea, and TV series The 100 between 2014-2020 including the Ark. In
addition to these, 3 movies have introduced ground-breaking elements for space settlements: 2013
movie Elysium, Interstellar in 2014, and Star Trek: Beyond in 2016.

Figure 6 Space station in the movie Elysium (scan QR code for the open source video)

The settlement depicted in Elysium is a wheel shaped space station located in Earth’s orbit. It
resembles the contemporary world in general terms. Studying the architecture of the settlement it
can be noticed that the open space and the natural items are used especially in the residential and
public areas. Elysium, which is created in direct proportion to the population of the settlement
offering an ideal living environment by applying an intensive reconstruction strategy, shows an
environment that meets almost all the humane and social needs of the elite segment (Ceylan,
2018).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

Page| 75

Figure 7 Cooper station in the movie Interstellar (scan QR code for the open source video).

The space settlement in Interstellar is called Cooper station and it has a cylindrical form. It
rotates around its central axis which causes artificial gravity. The settlement has its own ecosystem,
gravity and infrastructure systems allowing life to sustain for a long time. The space station is large
enough for thousands of people to live in. The architectural typology seen in the station reflects the
style of the American rural settlements parallel with the setting of the movie on Earth (Ceylan,
2018).

Figure 8 Starbase Yorktown in the movie Star Trek: Beyond (scan QR code for the open source video).

Starbase Yorktown, the space settlement depicted in Star Trek: Beyond, is one of the many space
stations in the Star Trek universe built by the Federation. The base is a metropolitan area where
S. Ceylan / Architectural evolution of space settlements in cinema and television

millions of people from different species live. It consists of many toroidal shaped masses located
around a core. All these masses are connected to each other and the centre via linear structures
that function as tubes and bridges that provide infrastructure and transport integrity. This
complicated structure ends up with a spherical, transparent layer large enough to cover the entire
system. This global layer functions to maintain the artificial gravity and the atmosphere inside, as
well as a shield against possible external attacks and collisions. The architecture of Yorktown
Page | 76
reflects the futuristic characteristics of the Star Trek series, and the general character of
contemporary world metropolises (Ceylan, 2018).
The space settlements in these three remarkable movies look very different from each other
regarding their form, but they also have many common characteristics. Firstly, they all are based
on scientific foundations regarding the structure of the settlements. Secondly, in all the three
movies, the space settlement does not consist of only interior, but also exterior spaces. They all are
multifunctional complex structures that provide all the needs of human beings to survive and
reside. Therefore, they are called space settlements rather than space stations.

5. On the Architecture of Space Settlements

Designing a space settlement means creating artificial environments (Ceylan, 2019). An artificial
ecology is a dynamic metabolic system contingent on material and energy flows that interrelate the
various constituent parts together with the overall structure of the ecosystem (Hasdell, 2006: 3).
Accordingly, there are issues that must be considered while designing the space settlement such as
gravity; atmosphere; cosmic radiation; positioning, movement and transportation; energy,
resources and sustainability; and as important as these physical factors, psychological and
sociological needs of human beings.
The analysis on the architecture of the space stations in cinema and TV puts forth that
architecture as the discipline to design human settlements starts to play more important roles in
their design through time. The evolution can be summarized in various titles. Firstly, the detail level
of the presentation of space stations increases through time. Accordingly, architecture becomes a
more significant actor in the design. In the first examples from 1950s the space stations are only
shown through simple model scenes and regular interior views. However, in the contemporary
movies, the viewers can examine the space settlement from various scales and perspectives. More
details are given about interior, exterior, and even urban spaces. Secondly, the very reason for the
construction of space stations in movies evolved in time from pure technological advancements to
environmental and survival necessities. Towards the end of the 20th century, the danger of
Anthropogenic causes became more obvious and for some approaches, construction of space
stations became a necessity for the survival of humankind. This situation is reflected on the
architecture of the space station itself. Through time, space station depictions in movies start to
tend towards the imitation of daily life to answer to the regular needs of its users, to provide an
alternative to the life on planet Earth. Thirdly, the evolution of the architectural style, especially in
the interior space of space stations is parallel to the evolution of the architectural movements of
the production date. The space stations in 1970s movies are resembling the buildings and interior
spaces under the influence of modernist movement, as the ones in 1980s and 90s are more
influenced by postmodern and brutalist styles. In 2000s, the evolution transforms the architecture
of the settlements into some character that has stronger connections with natural elements and
the environment. Finally, the functions and user profile of space stations evolve through time as
well, which has a direct effect on its architecture. In earlier times, the space station has a basic
function of transportation or research, which limits the user profile with science people or
astronauts. Accordingly, the size of the space station is limited and the form and structure is more
basic. In the upcoming decades, the user profile changes to human beings with various missions,
professions and expectations, in addition to other species from different corners of the universe.
As a consequence, the functional requirements and diversity of places in the space settlements
increase in order to meet the expectations and needs of the users. In contemporary movies like
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 66-78

Elysium and Interstellar, the space settlements are small scale versions of the Earth itself where a
person may spend her or his whole life.

6. Conclusion
Space stations are common in science fiction narratives, but are rarely in the focal point of
Page| 77 stories (Westfahl, 2005). Some exceptional movies like Elysium and Interstellar are more
representational about the space settlement itself, but in overall, they are just being used as a
keyword in the plot of the movies. With the developments in the science and technology of space
settlements, the weight of their depictions will probably increase in the future. Nowadays, thanks
to CGI methods and emerging technologies like immersive virtual reality, it is more possible to
depict imaginary places with its all details.
Honestly spoken, architecture is not the first discipline that comes to mind regarding the design
of space settlements. Urban planners, architects, and designers work toward the near future rather
than distant one (Schlegel and Foraita 2012). However, as architecture is the discipline to design all
places for human activities, it must play a role in the design of space settlements as well, especially
because of the reasons related to human beings’ physical, social, and psychological needs.
Architecture has already widened its field of interest towards representation in cinema, TV and
digital games, thanks to the developments in digital technologies. It is also an opportunity for
architects to become an initial member of teams that design the scenes in movies or games in the
world of science fiction and fantasy.
This paper intends to provoke an awareness among architects that their field of interest shall
not be only buildings of the present or near future. Structures of the far future and even non-
physical structures like in movies and TV, as well as virtual worlds are fields of work for architects.
It is even possible that architects become initial members of teams that design the space
settlements in the future. For that purpose, architects must widen their vision towards other worlds
both physically and virtually, and equip themselves with the best instruments that enable them to
work towards that purpose. The future holds dangers for the ones that cannot follow the
developments, but it also offers great potential for the ones who keep themselves up-to-date.

References
Benson, Michael, (2018). Space Odyssey: Stanley Kubrick, Arthur C. Clarke, and the Making of a Masterpiece.
Simon and Schuster.
Benson, Michael, (2019). "Science Fiction Sent Man to the Moon - Neil Armstrong's first small step owed more
than you'd think to the footsteps of Jules Verne, H.G. Wells and Fritz Lang".
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/20/opinion/sunday/moon-rockets-space-fiction.html, Accessed
August 28, 2022.
Burgess, Eric, (1993). Outpost on Apollo's Moon, Columbia University Press, p. 172.
Ceylan, Salih. (2018). “Space, Architecture and Science Fiction: An Architectural Interpretation of Space
Colonization.” The International Journal of Constructed Environment 9 (2): 1–17.
https://doi.org/10.18848/2154-8587/CGP/v09i02/1-17.
Ceylan, Salih, (2019). “An Overview and a Future Projection on the Architectural Design of Artificial
Environments”, The International Journal of Architectonic, Spatial, and Environmental Design, 13(3): 31-
49.
CNN International. (2016). Space Oddity: NASA’s Retro Guide to Future Living. Accessed August 28, 2022.
http://edition.cnn.com/2016/05/29/architecture/nasa-ames-oneill-space-colonies-1975/.
Fix, John D. (2017). “Astronomy Timeline.” Astronomy: Journey to the Cosmic Frontier. Accessed August 22,
2022.
http://highered.mheducation.com/sites/0072482621/student_view0/astronomy_timeline.html#sect2.
Guidry, K., (2015). Watch: Video Essay Details How Andrei Tarkovsky’s ‘Solaris’ Is A Response To Stanley
Kubrick’s ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’, IndieWire, https://www.indiewire.com/2015/08/watch-video-essay-
details-how-andrei-tarkovskys-solaris-is-a-response-to-stanley-kubricks-2001-a-space-odyssey-
260934/, Accessed August 29, 2022.
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Maguire, Lory, Weitkamp, Margaret, (2016). The Cold War and Entertainment Television. Cambridge Scholars
Publishing. pp. 203–206.
Memory Alpha, (2022). Regula I Type, Memory Alpha Fandom, https://memory-
alpha.fandom.com/wiki/Regula_I_type#Technical_information, Accessed 29.08.2022.
Memory Beta, (2022). Earth Spacedock, Memory Beta, non-canon Star Trek Wiki, https://memory-
beta.fandom.com/wiki/Earth_Spacedock, Accessed 29.08.2022.
Miller, Thomas Kent, (2016). Mars in the Movies: A History. Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Page | 78
p. 66.
National Space Society, (2002). “Bernal Sphere Space Settlement.”, Accessed August 25, 2022.
https://space.nss.org/bernal-sphere-space-settlement-detail/.
Oberth, Hermann, (1923). Die Rakete zu den Planetenräumen (The Rocket into Planetary Space), R.
Oldenbourg, München.
Potocnik, Hermann, (1929). Problem der Befahrung des Weltraums: der Raketen-Motor (The problem of
space travel: the rocket motor), NASA History Series SP-4026, NASA, Washington, DC.
Schlegel, Markus, and Sabine Foraita. (2012). “Trend Predictions—Approaches, Methods, Opportunities.” In
The Future of Building: Perspectives, edited by Cornelia Hellstern and Sandra Leitte, 70–79. Munich:
Detail Institute of International Architecture-Documentation, Ltd.
Socks Studio. (2011). “Orbital Space Colonies.” Accessed August 28, 2022. http://socks-
studio.com/2011/08/20/orbital-space-colonies-in-form-of-geometric-primitives.
Westfahl, Gary, (2000). “Space Stations and Space Habitats: A Selective Bibliography”. In Skylife: Space
Habitats in Story and Science, Gregory Benford and George Zebrowski (eds.), Harcourt, Inc, New York.
Westfahl, Gary, (2005). “Space stations”. In The Greenwood Encyclopedia of Science Fiction and Fantasy:
Themes, Works and Wonders, Gary Westfahl (ed.), pp. 740-741.
Westfahl, Gary, (2009). Islands in the Sky: The Space Station Theme in Science Fiction Literature, 2nd Edition,
Wildside Press, Maryland.
Westfahl, Gary, (2016). The Spacesuit Film: A History, 1918–1969. McFarland. p. 54.

Resume

Salih Ceylan is an associate professor and vice dean in the Faculty of Architecture and Design at
Bahçeşehir University, Turkey. He received his master’s degree from Istanbul Technical University in
2007 and PhD from Yıldız Technical University in 2016. He has many published articles in
international journals, book chapters and papers presented in international conferences. His
research interests are virtual reality in architecture, digital representation techniques, sustainability,
energy efficiency in architectural design, architectural education, Space architecture and retail
design. Salih Ceylan can be contacted at: salih.ceylan@arc.bau.edu.tr.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (79-96), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si073

Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and

community

Liat Savin Ben Shoshan*

Abstract

This essay will examine a place and community in the city of Haifa, Israel, that no longer
exists - a resilient community that survived destruction for decades, until it gave in to the
attempts of destruction and evacuation by the municipality of Haifa. The essay will review
the history of the urban planning of the place as appears in surveys, maps and planning
schemes, in parallel, the essay will explore the history of the place as narrated through a
series of essay-form documentary films. The paper will explore the potential for a
variegated, full and rich history of the resilient Wadi Rushmia and its inhabitants. It will
describe the formal history of Wadi Rushmia as it appears in historical documents and
planning materials such as maps and plans, and then examine its history through
documentary films that use self-narrated stories of inhabitants and poetic point of view of
the film maker, to challenge conventional top down planning practices. It will be argued
that the destruction of the community and nature of the Wadi and its replacement by a
network of roads, has turned it from what Augé (1995) refers to as a 'place', in which people
have lived their everyday life, accumulating memories, time spent together, and collective
history, into a 'non-place' a space of transience, in which the time of living and social
communication is replaced by an accelerated temporality. The paper will then refer to film,
to demonstrate the immense generative potentials presented by the filmmaking medium
to research of the built environment and that using particular filming methodologies may
contribute to the accumulation of multi-media knowledge of place. Film, it will be argued,
works against these processes of destruction of the place, as it captures the spatial and
temporal experience of the daily lives of the Wadi's community, in its final years. It will be
argued that films form an alternative archive of the everyday lives of ordinary people, an
archive which will not only guard the past, but also project into the future, to the
imagination of a more ethical and sustainable urban reality.

Keywords: documentary film, place, sustainable community, Trauma

1. Introduction
Wadi (valley) Rushmia in the city of Haifa on the Mediterranean is a deep river gully, beginning
with a steep incline on the eastern slopes of Mount Carmel and descending to the port. Though it
is located centrally, access to it is difficult. It provides a unique view of steep forested mountainside
in the midst of a constantly changing city (Figure 1). The Wadi used to be the habitat of a multi-
ethnic community that lived in its secluded wilderness.

*(Corresponding author), PhD., Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design, Israel, liatsavin@gmail.com
Article history: Received 20 September 2022, Accepted 15 December 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Page | 80

Figure 1 Wadi Rushmia, photograph by the author, 2017

The Wadi community survived for over a century. Its nucleus was established by migrant workers
from Gaza, in the beginning of the 20th century, during Ottoman rule and the construction of the
Hejaz railway (1904). Due to the housing shortage in the old city of Haifa the workers established a
neighbourhood of tents and shacks (Mansour, 2017). Throughout the years the Wadi's population
had grown and often changed. At its peak in the 1930s it reached three thousand. Its residents had
escaped early in the 1947-48 battles and the houses remained empty until the 1950s.
After the war of 1948 the city was left in trauma. The majority of its Arab residents had fled,
became refugees and scattered throughout the region and beyond. A flood of Jewish immigrants
came after the holocaust and the establishment of the Jewish State. In the 1950s, due to the
housing shortage, the State settled immigrants in the houses in the Wadi which used to belong to
Arabs. The neighbourhood grew, and again, its population reached a peak of around three thousand
- Jewish immigrants with modest means, holocaust survivors, and Palestinians who had lost their
homes in the battles of 1947-48 and returned to the city - fragments of the city's traumatic past.
Life in the Wadi was simple. Some lived in the stone houses built before 1948, others in makeshift
housing. It was an intriguing place, with houses built on the steep mountainside, and a racially
mixed population, in a city which neighbourhoods were traditionally divided by religion. As the state
settled immigrants there in the 1950s, it disregarded the fact that housing was illegal in the Wadi,
since the area was defined a public open space in the British Mandate Haifa master plan made in
1934 (Figure 2). Later on it used this law to evacuate them. Since the late 1960s, the neighbourhood
has gone through repeated waves of destruction (Shlomi, Reuveni and Karmeli, 1968). Despite the
law against building in the Wadi, a mall was built inside it in 2001 (Saul, 2002). Plans were made
(though never realized) to turn the valley into a park (Aiadat, 2022). One early plan that was realized
in the Wadi is a road tunnel dug under it, connecting the West and East of the Carmel, that opened
in 2010, and a highway network that passes in it, paved a few years later. These transportation
routes have destroyed the small area of leftover nature and human inhabitants that survived. The
inhabitants were gradually cleared out and in 2008 the last residents were evacuated and the
community had perished.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Page| 81

Figure 2 Haifa Plan 229, 1934. Source: the Haifa City Archive

Wadi Rushmia, which existed as a place of inhabitancy since the early 20th century, was
gradually disappearing, and in early 21st century, it became part of a road network. As the physical
remains of the community in the valley were disappearing, other means of knowledge were crucial
to the remembrance and understanding of its story and history. The community which had lived
there for decades, accumulated memories and stories which were effaced once the Wadi was
destroyed, and its traces remained, arbitrarily, in private collections of past residents (Figure 3, 4).
A significant testimony to a century of existence remained in documentary films. Film, with its
ability to tell stories, its documentation of passing time, movement and sound, adds to the two-
dimensional history told by words and maps (Bruno, 2002). The films which the paper will relate to
are the Wadi Rushmia trilogy by filmmaker Amos Gitai: 'Wadi' (1981), 'Wadi Ten Years Later' (1991),
and 'Wadi Grand Canyon' (2001). The series is a gentle and poetic portrayal of the people living in
the Wadi and its gradual destruction, in three points in time. Another film examined will be
'Roshmia', a film by Salim Abu-Jabel, which came out in 2015, and documents the final years of the
last (human) inhabitants of the valley – Yousef Hassan and his wife Amna.

Figure 3 the way leading to upper part of the Wadi, with some houses in the background, 1960s source: The Private
Family collection of the Hoffer Family and Ilan Segal.
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Page | 82

Figure 4 a former resident (Yitzhak Hoffer) and wife, under fruit trees in the Wadi, 1960s. Source: he Private Family
collection of the Hoffer family and Ilan Segal.

The few formal historical records of the Wadi relate to its legal status throughout the years, to
public buildings and infrastructure built there, but not to the shacks, houses and most significantly,
the residents. In order to inhibit the obliteration of the Wadi and community from public memory,
and to create an archive of their lost history, a different approach to history is needed, one that
focuses on the everyday and small places, in which film is considered a historical source (Smith
1976). The Annales School, and Microhistory schools of history may be referred to in this context,
pertaining to the significance of documenting the history of small, seemingly insignificant places
over a relatively long period of time.
The paper will begin with the formal urban history of Wadi Rushmia as appears in primary
sources such as maps, printed documents – and plans from the 1930s onwards; it will continue with
the filmed history of the Wadi and its inhabitants, relating to film both as a primary source that
documents the place and the changes it is going through, as well as a secondary source that supplies
interpretation and commentary of what is documented. The paper will relate to the transformation
of the Wadi from a place of inhabitancy to a part of a road network, through the concept of 'place'
and 'non-place' (Augé 1995). The urban history of the Wadi found in institutional archives will be
examined in relation to the 'subjective' documentation in the films, relating to Derrida's notion of
the archive, and archive fever (1995), and the alternative archive referred to by Azoulay (2014). It
will be argued that weaving together these different types of historical sources leads to a more
profound understanding of the place, working against planned, state-led obliteration of the place
and the eradication of its memory. The films, I will argue, by documenting the everyday life of this
marginal community, and giving it a voice, work against the forces of obliteration which have turned
the Wadi to 'non-place', erasing its community from the face of the earth as well as from memory.
Thus the films constitute an alternative archive of this forgotten urban enclave, an archive which
does not only guard the past, but also projects into the future, questioning the ethics of urban
planning and the sustainability of urban reality.

2. The Valley of Rushmia and the History of modern Haifa

The city of Haifa began as a small village on a plain at the shore of the Mediterranean and the
feet of the Carmel mountain. In the 18th century Daher el Omar, the autonomous ruler of the
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Galilee under the Ottoman empire 1 reestablished the new port town of Haifa nearby. While the old
village was situated on a plain, the new town, which remained as the location of the present port
along the Haifa Bay, was built on a narrow strip of land at the northern foot of Mount Carmel, to
make it easier to defend by land (Yazbak 1998: 14). This town is considered the beginning of modern
Haifa. In the early 20th century, the Ottomans, who had ruled Haifa since the 17th century,
connected Haifa to their Hejaz railway by building the Damascus Haifa road (1904), and in 1909
Page| 83
they built the port (Herbert and Sosnovsky: 1993). The city thus became a significant location in the
region. Haifa developed following the Ottoman system, according to which communities (Jewish,
Muslim and Christian) were divided according to their religious affiliations, creating a demographic
pattern of Christian neighbourhoods to the west, Muslims to the east and the newly established
Jewish community at the foot of Mount Carmel to the south of the Old City (Seikaly: 1995).
It was at that time the nucleus of Rushmia Wadi formed, as migrant labourers, who came to
work in the Ottoman infrastructural projects built their tents and shacks there. During the British
mandate (1918-1948) the city developed intensively. The British envisioned Haifa as a significant
regional port city. They made plans and carried out modernization and development projects in the
downtown, including the planned destruction of parts of it. The British made a census of the city's
residents in 1922 (Barron, 1923, p. 33) and an urban survey of its different zones and
neighbourhoods in 1930 (Simpson Report, 1930). As part of this process, areas which were not
officially planned like Wadi Rushmia went through basic planning stages. In 1929 a parcellation plan
was made for the Wadi, probably for the first time, possibly ordered by the British government. The
plan showed the stone quarry in the Wadi and the separate private plots (Figure 5).

Figure 5 a parcellation plan of the Wadi, 1929, Source: The Haifa City Archive

The population of Haifa and the Wadi continued to grow in the 1930s and 1940s, as more
workers migrated to the city with the expansion of the port works, and construction of the bridge
over the valley in 1927-28, and its population increased. As Haifa was developing, a Master Plan
was prepared in 1933-1934 by British planners. It dictated that residential neighbourhoods would
be built at hilltops, and valleys remain as green public open spaces (HP 229) (Figure 2). In these
years the city was changing as Jewish immigrants who flooded the city fleeing Nazim, took part in
the development and building of the city. This growth was overshadowing the cities older, Arab
neighbourhoods, which were considered primitive and underdeveloped by authorities at the time 2.
Despite collaborations between the groups, there were also political tensions. Arabs sensed that

1
Daher el Omar, (1689-1775) was the autonomous Arab ruler of northern Palestine in the mid-18th century while the region was part
of the Ottoman Empire Philipp (Thomas, 2002, p. 393).
2
Lionel Watson, the British City Engineer (1934–51) saw Haifa’s old town as a typical Middle Eastern urban agglomeration, unsuitable
for modern living. (Kolodney & Kallus, 2008: 334)
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Jewish population growth and financial development was leaving them behind and unequally
encouraged by the British (Seikaly 2002, Yazbak 2002). In the 1940s, tensions were growing steadily
in the city and throughout the country until their climax in the 1948 war, a war which the Jewish
population calls until this day the War of Independence, and Palestinian population calls the Nakba,
meaning catastrophe (Goren 2006, Yazbak 2002). In the battles, as the Arab fighting organizations
were centered in the Muslim neighbourhood of Halissa and the adjacent Wadi Rushmia, these
Page | 84
neighbourhoods became a major target for the Jewish Haganah and Irgun fighters in Haifa. Their
occupants were the first to be driven out of their homes (Goren 2006).
With the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, the city had changed drastically. It lost its
geopolitical dominance as a regional trade center with a port and railway, since there were no
longer connections between Palestine, now called Israel, and its Arab neighbours. Hostilities before
and during the war drove some 65,000 Arab residents out of the city, leaving downtown Haifa and
the Old City area practically deserted (Kolodney & Kallus, 2008: 332). Some of them came back to
the city but no longer held legal ownership of their homes as they were 'internally displaced' and
their legal status was of 'present-absentees'. 3
After the war, due to the housing shortage and massive immigration, the Jewish Agency settled
immigrants in properties in Arab neighbourhoods including Wadi Rushmia, whose Arab owners left
behind. 4 Holocaust survivors, Jewish immigrants from Arab countries, and Palestinian refugees,
some of them originally from Haifa, came to live in the Wadi. Between the 1950s and the 1970s, an
ethnically mixed population numbering a few thousands lived in the Wadi in close knit relations. 5
2.1. A Central Park: Rushmia in the first Zionist plan for Haifa
In the early 1950s work began on a new master plan for the city of Haifa, in which Wadi Rushmia
had great significance. It was prepared in the years 1952-54 by a committee of architects and
engineers headed by architect and town planner Yitzhaq Perlstein. The plan was based on socialist
principals and aspired to supply good quality housing for residents of all social classes, close to
employment areas, and with a view to the mountain and bay. In the finished scheme presented to
municipality officials in 1954, the old city, and the adjacent neighbourhood of Hadar Hacarmel (one
of the first Jewish neighbourhoods of Haifa) were to become the central areas of Haifa, with the
highest population density. The Rushmia basin was envisioned as the most prominent location in
Haifa: a green valley, geographically at the center of the city (Figure 6). The plan envisioned it as
the city's Central Park: "with the paving of the new roads in the Rushmia basin, and the preparation
of the pedestrian pathways, there is no doubt that this park will be the future, due to its centrality,
the most significant and most central open area in the whole city"(TPF 1954).

3
Present absentees are Arab internally displaced persons (IDPs) who fled or were expelled from their homes in Mandatory Palestine
during the 1947–1949 Palestine war but remained within the area that became the state of Israel. In 1950, 46,000 out of the 156,000
Israeli Arabs in Israel were considered
Present absentees. According to 2015 estimates from Palestinian NGO BADIL, there are 384,200 IDPs in Israel and 334,600 IDPs in the
Palestinian territories (BADIL, 2015).
4
This was done all around the country, in the Arab villages and urban neighborhoods that were left behind.
5
Stories of the friendly neighbor relations in the Wadi are narrated by a past resident in Gitai's film Wadi ten Years After (1991).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

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Figure 6 TPF 1954, Master Plan for Haifa by the Office for Master Plan of Haifa, Source: the Haifa City Archive

However, the 1954 master plan was cast aside. The Rushmia Wadi did not become a central park
but a backyard. Since the late 1960s Israeli authorities made efforts to destroy the houses and
depopulate the Wadi (Schori et al. 1968). The city was developing as far away as possible from its
past: the downtown was left in its ruins, 6 the Arab neighbourhoods around it were severely
neglected, gradually deteriorated to poverty and crime, with many houses destroyed. It had
become an 'area of trauma', that could not be planned by conventional means (Schwake 2018).
In 1999, the huge “Grand Canyon” shopping mall was opened in the Wadi - the largest in Israel
at the time. The entrepreneurs of the mall used the British master plan for the city of Haifa,
mentioned above, which was still the stature plan, which permits to build “recreation and leisure”
facilities within areas defined as open green space (Saul 2002). The mall, with its large billboards, is
positioned like a fortress inside the Wadi, and its name, 'Grand Canyon', inspired by the Wadi, is
ironic, as it turns its back on the Wadi – with a blank wall 30 meters high.
In 2003, a landscape plan for the Wadi was submitted, proposing the reclamation of the Wadi
and the planning of a scenic route through it which would integrate it into the urban landscape, a
plan which was never realized. 7 In the meantime, it was finally decided to dig an inter-mountain
tunnel that will ease mobility between the parts of the city connecting the neighbourhoods of the
upper Carmel with the Bay Area and the port. 8 The last residents of the Wadi were evicted, and a
highway was paved at the bottom of the Wadi, decreasing to a minimum its open natural area and
the area that could be used as a public park (Figure 7).

6
It was destroyed by Israeli army soon after 1948 war (Kolodney and Kallus 2008, 338).
7
The design was made by Moria-Sekely Landscape Architecture Office, and was commissioned by the department for long term
planning in the Haifa municipality headed by architect Ziva Kolodney. (Kolodney, 2007).
8
The plan to build a tunnel appeared first in a British plan for the city, and the idea that it would reach its first exit in the top of the
Rushmia Wadi appeared in the 1954 master plan. See 1954 Master Plan, Haifa City Archive
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Page | 86

Figure 7 works in the Wadi, 2014, Source: 'Roshmia', Saleem Abu-Jabel, 2015

Rushmia and the old city and surrounding neighbourhoods were Haifa's 'areas of urban trauma',
areas with which conventional positivist planning strategies could not contend. As noted by
Schwake, when an urban area is subjected to a trauma, its everyday life is disturbed and unable to
regenerate, causing it to perform as an exterritorial urban void (2018: 51). In Haifa, urban trauma
was created as Israeli planners aimed to destroy and rebuild Arab neighbourhoods, not tending to
the trauma that cast its shadow on the urban space and its people, and therefore succeeded only
in intensifying its symptoms. As Schwake notes, when an area is redeveloped with a clear intent to
obliterate its past, the urban system will be unable to recover from its past, and the trauma will
continue to dictate its everyday life (ibid). Urban trauma could be worked through only by
acknowledging the past, then trauma could be reconciled by spatial transformations and the
improvement of conditions (Hatuka 2010). This paper will suggest that film, which visualizes spaces
of trauma, make their stories audible, and become their archive, may be a means of acknowledging
and coming to terms with the past, taking part in processes of finding just and sustainable solutions
to areas of trauma.
2.2. Place and the Alternative to Formal History
The films show that the Wadi – a unique enclave of nature and society in the heart of the city, is
a place with a 'time-space' of its own, a space-time which is seen as it is drawing to an end, as result
of brutal and mindless destruction. Augé refers to the transformation of time and space and to the
erosion, and even loss of experienced history and lived space in the contemporary era (1995). The
process in which the Wadi as a place of the community is destroyed and a highway is paved through
it, may be read in terms of the distinction Augé makes between 'place' to 'non-place'. The
distinction between 'place' and 'non-place', Augé argues, is based on the difference between place
and space [..] "the term 'place', refers to an event (which has taken place), a myth (said to have
taken place) or a history (high places). 'Space' is more abstract [..] it is applied in much the same
way to an area, a distance between two things or points (a two-metre 'space' is left between the
posts of a fence) or to a temporal expanse ('in the space of a week') (it is) in use today […] in the
specific language of various institutions representative of our time. […] Non-places are transitory,
where human actors pass through as anonymous individuals but do not relate/identify with in any
intimate sense." (Augé, 1995: 82). The Wadi, as a place of living, of telling and hearing stories and
of spending time together, has turned into a space of passage, a highway, the time spent in it is
dictated by traffic lights.
Not only has the Wadi as a place of a community ceased to exist, formal historical documents
that refer to the community that inhabited it are also very few, it being an informal neighbourhood.
Rushmia as neighbourhood of Haifa, is forgotten, as it was never official. Its documentation remains
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

in private family archives, which yet have to be mined. As early as 1976 Paul Smith noted the
significance of film as material for historians and called for historians' engagement in film. He called
for the usage of film as a teaching source, and for the development of film literacy and analysis
among historians (Smith 1976). The study of the history of Wadi Rushmia through the stories of
everyday lives of its people, may be referred to the approach to historical knowledge that values
the everyday, the ordinary and the 'non-significant' such that may be traced back to the Annales
Page| 87
school. The Annales, founded by Marc Bloch and Lucien Febvre in the late 1920s, replaced the study
of leaders with the lives of ordinary people, and while aiming at a “total history,” also yielded
microstudies of villages and regions. 9 Another relevant historical approach in this respect is
'microhistory', in which intensive historical investigation is made of a relatively well-defined smaller
object, most often a single event, or a "village community", a group of persons, even an individual
person (Ginzburg and Poni, 1991: 3). The films about Wadi Rushmia focus on 'small scale' everyday
lives, through the filmmakers' points of view, and through the self-narratives of inhabitants. The
filming is carried out in slow camera movements, with long duration takes in real time, and the
study, in both films, stretches over years, and even decades. Film: from planner's propaganda to
the stories of and by urban inhabitants
Films have been a part of the world of planning since the 1920s, when what Ciacci (2010) calls
“Town Planners’ Cinema” emerged (Ciacci, 2010). Ciacci cites examples in which the tools of cinema
were made to serve a thoroughly modernist, expert-driven approach. These films were intended to
convince “the public” of the social duties and potential of town planning and to persuade the public
of a particular planning scheme which had already been thought through and was being proposed
as “the solution” by “the experts” (ibid). One example is the British film, Housing Problems (Elton
and Anstey 1935). It presented everyday life in London slums and proposed the move to modern,
spacious, clean housing projects. Another example is the film The Proud City: A Plan for London
(Ralphe Keene, 1946). The film explains the re-planning of Post-war London as a progressive and
reactive endeavour that aspires to supply proper housing and other necessary amenities and solve
conflicts.
Sandercock and Attili (2010) argue for films that would be part of a collaborative planning theory
and situational ethics, in reaction to “official” or top-down uses of film. They relate to the
epistemological crisis in planning that began in the early 1970s, citing Friedmann (1973) and
Churchman (1971). Friedmann criticized the limitations of “expert knowledge” and advocated
“mutual learning” or “transactive planning”, designed to draw on local and experiential knowledge,
placing it in dialogue with expert knowledge, and Churchman explored the value of stories to the
planning process (Churchman 1971, p.178). Sandercock and Attili note that the "story turn" in
planning has been one response to the epistemological crisis that demanded the acknowledgement
of the necessity of using many other ways of knowing: experiential, intuitive and somatic
knowledges; local knowledges; knowledges based on the practices of talking and listening, seeing,
contemplating and sharing; and knowledges expressed in visual, symbolic, ritual and other artistic
ways (Sandercock and Attili, 2010, p. 26). Bathla and Papanicolaou refer to film as a means of
reframing conflicts of the urban and of housing and redevelopment (2022). They argue that in
allowing for sensory, aural, and visual possibilities, film serves as a generative medium allowing us
to make meaning from the embodied experiences of dwelling, resistance, and contestation,
allowing a unique opportunity for learning from ‘the ordinary practitioners of the city that live
“down below,” below the thresholds at which visibility begins’ (de Certeau, 1984, p. 94), and relate
to the protagonists of the films about these conflicts as ‘liminal beings’ (Westerveld, 2010),
experiencing and reflecting upon the loss of ecology and dwelling, and projecting into future
possibilities of becoming and undoing spatial injustice". They note that "Film opens up temporal
and sensorial boundaries of the ‘contested urbanity’ under formation” and argue for a filming that
"allows a reality to emerge from the film, thus considering the importance of the contested nature

9
Britannica, T. Editors of Encyclopedia (2017, April 19). Annales school. Encyclopedia Britannica.
https://www.britannica.com/topic/Annales-school, accessed 09/12/22
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

of housing and the urban as cinematic subjects" (ibid 351-352). In the cases examined, film enables
to experience the unique individuals that live in the Wadi, listen to their stories, and sense the
particular space-time of this community, in a way that cannot be achieved by conventional two-
dimensional, maps and plans. Wad Rushmia and its community are given presence through the
films. Though the films of the two directors differ from one another, their aesthetics of filming are
similar, both using long duration shots, and the speakers' narratives without any external
Page | 88
information given through subtitles or voiceover. Thus, I argue, the Wadi, as a place, is
reconstituted through the act of filming and through narratives of the people who have been
inhabiting it.
2.2.1. Wadi Trilogy: Amos Gitai
Amos Gitai is a prominent Israeli filmmaker, who, in his rich career, made over 90 artworks,
including films (features and documentaries), publications, exhibitions and performances. His work
has been mainly evolving around the Arab-Israeli conflict, and, as he was trained as an architect,
often has to do with space and place in political conflict. Milja Radovic describes Gitai as an
"architect of cinematic space", which contrasts the whole complexity of the region with the "stories
of people", and who carefully uses space and time to compose a cinematic scene that aims to
transform the audience by telling them an authentic story (Radovic 2017, p. 70). Over a period of
twenty years Gitai had documented Wadi Rushmia, resulting in a series of three films made in three
points in time: Wadi, (1981), Wadi Ten Years Later (1991), and Wadi Grand Canyon (2001). The films
show the people who still live in the Wadi in their domestic environment, which is built and
maintained utilizing a collection of artifacts and any kind of waste materials they could find from
the garbage of the city: used tires, tin, pieces of cardboard, wooden planks, iron sheets, plastic
sheets, fabrics. Gardens and orchards were planted beside the houses and inhabitants tend to
them. The films follow everyday life, the rough and meagre living conditions and the work of
maintenance: roof repair, reinforcing a wall that the wind blew over, repairing a leak, feeding and
caring for animals, nurturing vegetation: watering, hoeing, pruning, planting. These tasks take up
many hours. In the times in between work, the inhabitants sit together, eat from and enjoy their
gardens, play, sing, smoke, talk. They have their own sense of time, slower, different from the
incessant rush of the outside (Figure 8).
2.2.1.1. Filming against the act of Planned Destruction: An Alternative Archive
In the plans for modern Haifa, Wadi Rushmia, though inhabited since the beginning of the 20th
century, was not considered a legal residential area. Even in the years when it was populated by
thousands, it was considered an illegal development. In the British Mandate map (1934) it was
marked it a green open space, a zone in which the building of housing is forbidden, although there
were already many houses built in the Wadi. In the first Israeli master plan of 1954 it was envisioned
as a central park, and later on, as central transportation hub. The 'garden' that was already there,
where Jews and Arabs lived together and thrived, guarding nature, was overlooked. For a majority
of the planners and city leaders it was a disturbance, a stain on the neat and orderly master plan.
On this background, the films, presenting the unique community, are even more essential.
The people in the films speak in ongoing monologues, with no subtitles that provide any external
identifying information besides what they tell themselves and one about the other. On the
backgrounds of the monologues, when the speaker is not in the frame, there are wide angle
traveling shots of the Wadi, taken from the mountainside or the bed of the Wadi, and from the
road on the top of the Wadi. These shots convey the unique time-space of the Wadi– a world apart,
with its own sense of time and place (Figure 9, 10).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Page| 89

Figure 8 shack of Yousuf and Amna. Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abi-Jabel, 2015

Figure 9 Amna in the courtyard of the shack, Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abi-Jabel, 2015

Figure 10 Amna and Yousuf in the courtyard of the shack, Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abi-Jabel, 2015
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Gitai's protagonists declare that they do not want to leave the place, which they see as a haven.
However, most of them do leave or are forced to. Yousuf, the oldest resident of the wadi, notes
that those who left fear return, as if they cannot go back on their footsteps, like one cannot go back
in time. Gradually but surely, the community and nature are disappearing.
The one who does come back is Gitai, who returns to visit the Wadi numerous times, and
documents the gradual deterioration of the place. Gitai is close to the people that he films, and Page | 90
they speak to him openly. Their narration is rarely interrupted and Gitai's camera is a gentle and
patient listener, and also a patient observer, who views the place and its people with slow, long
takes. These takes slow down the passage of time and thus the change of the people and the place
are experienced even more vividly, as the brutality of the forces of destruction upon them is
revealed. As Frodon has noted: "documentary film is used in this process which consists in going
back on one's steps, filming the time which has elapsed, recording the traces of what has changed
and the marks of what has remained. […] Recording time in its duration, side by side with those
who […] do not decide or control anything, is, in this context, the most radical side step. Just
listening to words, tones, changes in language and accent, silences, catching postures, looks,
wrinkles on faces and stones [..]."(Frodon 2003). Frodon describes how through these specific
practices film becomes a tool of attentiveness, through which viewers are immersed in the
experience of the place, and become attentive to the people who inhabit it, whose stories will
become evidence to what will be soon destroyed.
2.2.1.2. A Place and its Narrated Stories
The stories of the people of the Wadi are told by the people, mainly through two central
speakers, an Arab man and Jewish woman. The man is Yousuf Hassan, a Muslim, who was born in
Haifa, the son of a carpenter from the neighbourhood of Wadi Salib who lost his home in 1948.
During the war Yousuf, like many others, fled to Acre where he was shot (a bullet entrance wound
is visible on his old, scarred face, see figure 13) and imprisoned by Israeli soldiers, and later, with
no property or profession, he came to live in the Wadi in 1956, in very simple conditions. Yousuf
was later joined by his second wife Amna, who is also a refugee. The other main figure is Miriam, a
Jewish woman born in Hungary who fled to Israel after the holocaust, and fell in love with Iskander,
a Christian Arab fisherman who she lives with.
2.2.1.3. Yousuf and Miriam
Miriam and Yousuf express the liveliness of the Wadi. They are powerful in appearance and in
speaking – though they both speak a broken, foreign accented Hebrew, the language of immigrants-
refugees, they have their poetic, idiosyncratic expression, pondering about their life as they speak
of it. Apart of speaking, they are busy with maintenance of their domestic environment,
symbolically preserving the Wadi.
Miriam
Miriam's long monologues in which she describes her life and construes it, has a symbolism of
its own. Miriam speaks broken Hebrew with "high" and poetic language (Figure 11). She speaks of
her love to Iskandar, which holds on despite the ethnic conflict, for which they had to pay with
condemnation and ostracism. She describes their connection as "a bond of love, love as a natural
force that empowers a world of humans, animals and plants, a force which led to the circumstances
of my life". She explains that it is love that has chosen them. It is a “force of nature", and the lovers
are "already connected, really connected, cannot separate, they have no strength" (Wadi 1981).
Miriam lives in the valley in severe violation of the social taboo of the region – the intimate
connection of a Jew and an Arab; she lives in a house that is destined for demolition; She guards
her life in the Wadi by surrounding her home with green fertile plants. She keeps planting every
year "against the destruction, decomposition, and decay of the ground, because earth that is not
cared for becomes dirty and even smelly" (Gitai 1991).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Shots of Miriam talking about her life, and the long takes of her inside her garden, working with
the land, are edited one next to the other, or one over the other, as voiceover. Miriam began
planting as she arrived in the Wadi:
There was nothing there. There was just rocks and dirt, and sticky things. And I began to
collect the stones and placed them into rows and I put earth in between the stones, and then
Page| 91 I planted trees in them, so that it would be green and nice and cool and lovely... lovers, loving
in the way that we had when we lived in the other country, we were in verdant foliage, not
in yellow. I wanted people to see something that they did not have, and they would like us…
(Wadi 1981).

Figure 11: Miriam, Source: Wadi, 10 Years Later, Amos Gitai, 1991

Miriam lives within the garden she had planted, it is her haven, it also protects her and the
choices she made. The garden, argues Radovic, is a crucial metaphor that Gitai applies in the space.
It is a symbol of the "outcast community", but also of Israel, or the "holy Land" (Radovic, 2017, 80).
The vision of the possible resolution to conflict, discrimination and segregation is given through the
metaphor of "the garden" [..] its growth and sprouting is linked to shared and intertwined existence
(ibid, 81). It is also used in the filming itself, as Gitai uses one take to explore the space in which this
community lives, the uninterrupted exploration of physical space constructs unbroken time and
evokes an extra-temporal space (ibid, 140). Throughout the films Miriam is seen as she cares for
her garden - in the Wadi, and in the backyard of the housing project she had moved to after she left
the Wadi. In the second part of the trilogy, after years of living together in the Wadi, the pressure
from Iskandar’s family and friends grows to leave Miriam. Iskandar does not leave, but becomes
violent, and she runs away from him, leaving the Wadi. Miriam once again becomes a refugee. She
must escape, leave. Her gardening resists the decay, destruction and uprooting. Uprooted several
times in her life, she is the 'wandering Jew', a plant that hits roots wherever planted, quickly, even
in shallow soil. Her gardening is her mode of survival, her mode of belonging and owning her home.
Radovic's discussion of the Wadi as garden, is a fruitful image in the act of imagining an alternative
future for the Wadi. Rather than a literary metaphor it may be seen as an alternative future for the
Wadi, one in which urban planners could have taken part in, turning of the Wadi into a sustainable
fruit garden, tended to by an ethnically mixed community, by the voiceless, and for the voiceless.
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Yousuf
At the beginning of the trilogy, in 1981, Yousuf had already been living in the Wadi for 28 years.
Though he has lived in the Wadi for almost thirty years, his settlement appears to be minimal and
survivalist – he and his wife live in a shack, the poorest and simplest of the dwellings that appear in
the films (Figure 8). It is made of construction waste, gathered from building sites in the city, and
not connected to water nor to electricity, however, it is surrounded by plants and fruit trees. As Page | 92
seen in Gittai's 1981 and 1991 episodes, they spend much of the time trying to maintain the shack,
gardening, cooking and heating their shack. At the same time, their modest home is a place of
hospitality. Open to the winds of the Wadi, it is also open to guests of all kinds - neighbours,
relatives and passers-by.
As fragile and simple as his life is, when Yousef speaks he becomes a grand narrator of his own
story and the story of the Wadi. In 2001 Gitai visits the Wadi for the last episode 'Wadi Grand
Canyon'. He meets Yousef, whose living conditions have worsened, since a huge shopping mall is
being built at the top of the Wadi. The shack, surrounded by trees and plants which they tend to,
their modest haven, is severely disturbed by the building of the shopping mall. In the final scenes
of 'Wadi Grand Canyon' Gitai films Yousuf as he climbs to the top of the Wadi and walks into the
new mall that was just opened, where he stands, in the artificial, loud interior, dumbfounded. This
shot expressed clearly how the nature of the Wadi and its inhabitants, which have co-existed for so
long, are destroyed by capitalist greed, indifference to ecology, and the disregard of common good.

3. Roshmia
In 2007, new works begin in the Wadi to dig the road tunnel, and an access road is paved for the
trucks. The contrast between the road, that symbolizes modernization, and the adjacent, tree
surrounded shack, in which Yousuf and Amna are still living their slow, simple life, is a central
contrast in the documentary film 'Roshmia' (2015), by Salim abu Jabal.
Abu Jabal is a Palestinian writer and filmmaker, born in a Druze village in the Golan Heights. He
studied in Haifa university, was a reporter, and 'Roshmia' was his first film (Abu-Jabal, Culture Fund).
He met the couple as he was working on a story about them, and after the story was published he
turned to filming: "Filmmaking is all about storytelling. I simply had to bring their story to the
world." (Abu-Jabal, 2015) During the time he was filming them, they received a demolition order
from the Haifa municipality. Abu Jabal's film was part of the attempt to change the fate of Yousuf
and Amna and save their shack, acting against the demolition orders (Figure 12).
At first, it seems that Abu Jabal's film takes off from where Gitai left. His film was shot between
2005 – 2008, when Yousuf and Amna are already in their 80s, and they are coping with the
knowledge of their certain and near evacuation. While Gitai was interested in showing through
'Wadi' the life together of Jews and Arabs, Abu-Jabal, who discovered the Wadi when it's
community had already perished, is interested in the Palestinian narrative. Like in Gitai's film, the
Wadi in 'Roshmia' is a world apart, however, while Gitai includes some shots outside it, Abu-Jabal's
film includes no outside.
The film is focused in the cinematographic sense as well, as Abu-Jabal made the aesthetic choice
to film in a narrow 4:3 screen ratio. Yousuf and Amna are shot in small, dark spaces, where they
stand out through their words and expressions. The couple does not speak much, however, their
few words are powerful, as they narrate their own separate stories.
This focus enables Abu-Jabal to create a symbolic narrative, of the Palestinian's connection to
his land, of the catastrophic loss of the land in 1948 and 1967 which is now repeated, and the heroic
struggle to stay on it against all odds (the Palestinian 'Zumud'). As he notes: "For me, the story of
Amna and Yousuf signifies and sums up the story of the refugees, and how they still are facing the
colonial mind-set and the brutal machines of the colonizers. Their shack was the last tent of
Palestinian refugees. Yousuf decided to keep it as symbol of his and his people’s exile" (Abu Jabal,
Boston 2015). However, Yousuf and Amna disagree between them, as for Yousuf life outside the
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Wadi is not worth living, Amna who is tired of the struggle and is ready to leave and move to an
apartment, representing another Palestinian narrative, a more pragmatic one (Figure 13).

Page| 93

Figure 12 shack of Yousuf and Amna, right before demolition, Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abi-Jabel, 2015

Figure 13 Yousuf right before evacuation, Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abu-Jabel, 2015

Although time in the Wadi is running out, 'Roshmia', like Gitai's 'Wadi', is a slow film, with many
real time shots. On the background of the coming destruction, the two take their time, rolling
cigarettes and smoking them, peeling an orange, rolling prayer beads, breaking wooden branches
for fire. There is strength in this contradiction. Though it is filled with despair, even grief, the film is
quiet, with many moments of silence.
Yousuf, here too, is the guardian of the Wadi, who, like Adam, is banished forever from his
garden of Eden. With his dark, rough, bullet scarred face, his past is written on his features, he
seems as strong and as fragile as the Wadi itself, and his lifetime, and what remains of it, is the
lifetime of the Wadi, as home of community and wild nature (Figure 14).
L. Savin Ben Shoshan / Wadi Rushmia: The variegated histories of a lost nature and community

Page | 94

Figure 14 Yousuf right before evacuation, Source: 'Roshmia', Salim Abu-Jabel, 2015

4. Conclusion
Rushmia Wadi, whose residents have fled in 1948, had been repopulated by refugees, and had
suffered repeated evacuations and destructions, is part of Haifa's 'spaces of trauma'. These places,
which planning professionals often attempt to replan without acknowledging the spatial and social
consequences of the trauma, often 'fall' into the hands of capitalist ventures and private
entrepreneurs, who utterly disregard social, environmental, and political justice. Like its
neighbouring Wadi Salib, for example, Wadi Rushmia's traumatic history began in 1948. Unlike
Wadi Salib, which empty houses remain ghost houses until this day, Rushmia was repopulated after
1948, and remained resilient for several decades – as an urban enclave of a racial mix of people,
until giving in to planned destruction and mindless development. It is in such places that films take
the role of narrating micro-histories and filling in the gaps left by formal maps and plans, by ongoing
destruction and eradication of memory.
My argument in this paper converges with the filmmakers' perspectives, and also diverges from
them. The filmmakers capture the unique quality of the place and its history and give voice to the
voiceless. As noted by Bathla and Papanicolaou (2022) film serves us in sensing embodied
experiences of dwelling, resistance, and contestation, allowing a unique opportunity for learning
from those that live “down below,” below the thresholds at which visibility begins’ […] seeing the
protagonists of these films as ‘liminal beings’ (p. 351). However, the films express a radical critique
of the authorities who are responsible for the destruction of the Wadi, which are presented as
omnipotent, invisible forces that cast mindless destruction, this paper aspires to expand the agency
of planning through film. The history of planning in Wadi Rushmia is described, giving features and
names to the agents of planning. Planning is considered as a legitimate and significant agency, to
which the films, as alternative sources of information, can contribute. Films, along with other
planning documents, are part of a more inclusive archive. The films provide the 'informal' histories,
and where there is an obliteration of history and a lack of archive, they provide an alternative
archive, participating in what Derrida has related to as an 'archive fever' (1995). The archive, Derrida
argues, is a movement of promise and future, just as it is a record of the past…it carries the remnant
(of what remained alive) to the present…The opposite of forgetting is justice (Derrida 1995, 87).
Thus, the archive presented here through the films, not only has the role of guarding the past, but
also, through the knowledge collected in it, of bringing justice to the future. Azoulay, who relates
to Derrida, argues that to take part in the 'archive fever', is to take part in the establishing of new
types of archive, which prevent the archetype of the archive, the one established by the state, to
determine alone the essence of the archive (Azoulay 2014, 21). Thus, an alternative archive of Wadi
Rushmia, if one had been established before its destruction, could have contained formal planning
documents, films, as well as materials from personal archives, creating an archive not only of
documents created by those in power, but also of the residents which the authorities cleared away.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 79-96

Urban spaces as unique as Wadi Rushmia, could no longer be considered as backyards that may
be destroyed in favour of controversial development. The Wadi, which the 1954 plan suggested
should be a central park, could have become a heritage site of a sustainable human society, a
garden in the midst of the city, feeding whomever needs feeding, and tended to by a community of
gardeners-guardians. The stories of the people of the Wadi, archived in the films, are, as noted by
Derrida, an immanent archive, a part of the present and future of the city of Haifa.
Page| 95
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Filmography:
Amos GItai, Wadi 1981
Amos Gitai, Wadi Ten Years Later, 1991
Amos Gitai, Wadi Grand Canyon, 2001
Salim Abu-Jabal, Roshmia, 2015
Resume
Liat Savin Ben Shoshan, BArch, Ph.D. Studied architecture in Bezalel academy of Arts and Design and Bar
Ilan University. She was a postdoctoral candidate at the Technion Institute of Technology, Haifa, her research
focused on the architect and town planner Yitzhak Perlstein and his cinematic documentation of his works.
She writes and lectures on film, culture and space, and on writing and filming as research methodologies in
architectural planning. Published papers on the window as a cultural and virtual space, on the interrelations
of urban space, memory, and cinematic space, on documentary diary films and the city, and on architecture
and its reflection in film in the mid-century eras of post war and nation building.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (97-112), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si074

A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar

Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

Hamid Amouzad Khalili*

AnnMarie Brennan**

Abstract

Abstract The 1960 Italian film Rocco and His Brothers (Rocco e i suoi Fratelli) is one of the
greatest exemplars of Italian post-war cinema. The film depicts the disintegration and
deterritorialization of an immigrant family from Lucania, a southern Italian village in
Basilicata, and their relocation to Milan. The director of the film, Luchino Visconti,
continuously alludes to the protagonist’s fascination with their hometown (paese). This
nostalgic and wholesome image of paese contrasts the ubiquitous alienation and
exploitation in the industrial North. The film is replete with signs and metaphors which
explicitly and implicitly reinforce the evident tension between the immigrant family and an
industrialized metropolis. Based on an interview with Mario Licari, Visconti’s assistant who
accompanied him on location visits, this article offers an opportunity to revisit significant
locations of the film such as Quartiere Fabio Filzi, the Alfa Romeo Factory, Milan Duomo,
Ponte Della Ghisolfa, Parco Sempione, Stazione Centrale and Circolo Arci Bellezza.
Underpinned by the theories of Giorgio Agamben, Antonio Gramsci and Andre Bazin this
essay creates a theoretical framework that works in parallel with a detailed analysis of the
scenes, original archival material, dialogues, places, and history of architecture of the
locations. The article demonstrates how urban and architectural spaces not only
accommodated the narrative of the film but shaped, twisted and structured the story of
the masterpiece. The paper shows how Visconti succeeded in visualizing a ‘hidden’ Milan
that was never appeared on the silver screen before Rocco and His Brothers.

Keywords: cinema and city, Luchino Visconti, postwar Milan, film and architecture, Italian
cinema.

1. Introduction
Rocco and His Brothers (1960) is an Italian film that tells the story of the Parondis, a family that
travels to the industrial North in Milan from the rural Italian South. The film illustrates how
Southern Italian traditions are endangered when imported into the modern urban setting during
the postwar years. The narrative of Rocco and His Brothers is centred around the disintegration and
deterritorialisation of the family unit and its traditional values in modern Milan. The Paraondi family
cannot come to terms with the inherent social and economic norms of the industrialized city —
“the land of opportunities” as it is referred to in the film. The friction between the family and a city
that is undergoing sudden societal and economic transformation and development provides a
narrative drive for Luchino Visconti in this film. This is underscored by the fascination that the
Parondi family has with their paese (their small hometown in the South) and the contradictions of
South/North and city/country which highlight the traumatic alienation experienced by the
immigrant family.

*(Corresponding author), Assist. Prof. Dr., University of Edinburgh, U.K., h.amouzad-khalili@liverpool.ac.uk

**Senior Lecturer of Design Theory at the University of Melbourne, Australia, brea@unimelb.edu.au
Article history: Received 08 August 2022, Accepted 16 October 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

This film is highly relevant to architecture and urban studies as it provides a highly unique and
accurate image of Milan in its phase of transition to accommodate the Economic Miracle. Visconti,
himself, had an obsession with Milan and remarked that “there has never been so much of Milan
in one film” (Palazzini & Raimondi, 2009, p. 51). This article investigates Rocco and His Brothers and
examines Visconti’s means of storytelling through his careful selection of urban places throughout
postwar Milan. Moreover, these urban and architectural spaces not only accommodate the
Page | 98
narrative of the film, but rather they performed as a crucial vehicle which shaped, twisted, and
structured this cinematic masterpiece. This research shows how Visconti succeeded in visualizing a
‘hidden’ Milan that never appeared on the silver screen before Rocco and His Brothers.
Based on an interview with Visconti’s assistant, Mario Licari, this essay offers an opportunity to
revisit locations of the film in Milan such as Quartiere Fabio Filzi, the Alfa Romeo Factory, the Milan
Duomo, Ponte Della Ghisolfa, Parco Sempione, Stazione Centrale and Circolo Arci Bellezza in order
to understand their significance in the telling of the film’s narrative. Underpinned by concepts from
Giorgio Agamben, Antonio Gramsci and Andre Bazin, this article creates a theoretical framework
that works in parallel with a detailed analysis of the urban Milanese scenes, original archival
material, dialogues, places, and the history of architecture in these locations.
The film entails five chapters, with each one named after one of the brothers in the Parondi
family, starting with the eldest son and concluding with the youngest: Vincenzo, Simone, Rocco,
Ciro and Luca. Despite this organization of the film, Visconti’s emphasis is on Rocco and Simone,
who enter the world of boxing, rather than the brothers who are skilled labourers, Ciro and
Vincenzo and the youngest brother, Luca, symbolises the unification of the South/North and
workers/peasants. The core of the film is built on the love triangle between Rocco, Simone and the
main female character who is a Milanese prostitute, Nadia.
The Lombardian city puts forward two disparate types of scenarios in front of the characters of
the films. Vicenzo and Ciro, the labourers, comply with the standards and predefined roles in the
city while the two brothers who engage in boxing, Simone and Rocco, become trapped in the
labyrinthine pathways, ambitions and complexities of city life. Vincenzo and Ciro integrate into the
urban society and seek to fulfil the family’s interests by achieving personal success and making a
contribution to the economy of the North. Vincenzo works in the thriving Milanese construction
industry and Ciro is a skilled worker in the Alfa Romeo factory—the symbol of progress and
modernity. Luca, the youngest brother, wants to follow the journey of Vicenzo and Ciro however
not in Milan, but naively in Lucania, the paese after it is “transformed by economic progress within
the more prosperous South” (Rohdie, 1992, p. 17).
Rocco and Simone’s experience in Milan contrasts sharply with Vicenzo and Ciro. Rocco and
Simone represent the Southern Mediterranean, a world that has no relevance in the modernized
city of Milan and does not suit the roles that the city has defined for an immigrant worker. Simone
becomes a defeated person who confronts manifold unpleasant encounters under the conditions
of metropolitan life; he is corrupted by the city into an instrument for the destruction of the family
values, rather than a guardian who maintains them. This occurs not from the lack of will, but from
the tragic inappropriateness of his actions. Rocco, a defender of the family and Southern values, is
not indifferent to the brutal conditions of everyday life that his family goes through, but his efforts
face nothing but failure.
The literary foundations of the film include a novel about Milan, Rocco: Malavoglia (1881), by
Giovanni Verga along with Antonio Gramsci’s theoretical essay ‘The Southern Question’ (1926).
Both texts influenced Visconti vision for the film. (Lima Diego, 2013, p. 52). However, the main
source of inspiration is an anthology consisting of nineteen short stories with a sharp focus on
Milan, Il ponte della Ghisolfa (1958) written by Giovani Testori (Visconti, Aristarco, & Carancini,
1978, p. 13). Similar to Visconti’s film, the book charts the suburbs of Milan inhabited by the
disenfranchised, by the “poor devils who pull the cart in the factory or workshop but also of the
idlers ready for anything, prostitutes and hustlers, thieves and pimps with a license to blackmail,
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

unless there is the right to kill, to aspiring sport stars and turbid nouveau riches.” These characters
were part of the Italian population which did not receive the benefits of the Italian Economic
Miracle (il boom economico) and were still struggling to survive.
One of the most significant features of the film, and the focus of this article, is the precise study
of film locations. During most of Visconti’s visits, he brought along his assistants, Mario Licari and
Page| 99 Germano Rumolo and his preferred screenwriter, Suso Checchi D’Amico. For Visconti and his team,
the unusually long task of searching and identifying the right locations for Rocco was fundamental
to the script. (D’Amico, 2015a). He did not visit different locations to accommodate the story; rather
the segments of the narrative of the film were informed by his location visits. Visconti reportedly
wrote and even changed the screenplay based on the places he visited. According to Licari, and
Caterina D’Amico, the narrative of the film was shaped—and, in instances, radically changed—
through a myriad of location visits in the periphery, downtown and even small villages near Milan
(D'Amico De Carvalho, 1978, p. 44). Therefore, the importance of the film lies in the fact that it is
not only a film about an important city at a crucial period; Rocco and His Brothers is a film that owes
its existence to the postwar city, its place and its people.

2. Paese, Metropolis and the Paradoxical Milan

The urbanization of the twentieth century gave rise to a prevailing discourse around the
disadvantages of industrial cities and the traditional values of small villages. The dichotomy of
city/country was reinforced, on the one side, by the nostalgic and romantic traditions of the
pastoral, and on the other side, around the view that values the modernized and industrialized
metropolis as a generating “matrix of order” (Wilson, 1992, p. 43). In the opinion of the defenders
of this ‘new order,’ the metropolis had the potential to “emancipate the working class and allow
women to uphold and contribute to bourgeois domestic ideas” (AlSayyad, 2006, p. 6) (Wilson, 1992,
pp. 16-25).
For Visconti, a metropolis is a purely paradoxical entity; emancipatory and fettering, kindly and
hostile, advantageous and destructive. Although the film is a tragedy associated with the
experience of the modern city, Visconti’s depiction of Milan is quite oxymoronic and sees the city
as a heterotopia. Visconti shows the dark, dirty, smoky and foggy city, which is full of crime,
gambling, prostitution, violence and disdain but at the same time presents the possibilities and
opportunities of a new modern world that the city offers to the family.
Visconti criticises the celebrated yet hegemonic Taylorist system and the work ethics of Milanese
industry. Film theorist John Foot describes Visconti’s Milan as a place in which “you have to be
willing to work hard, to make sacrifices, to be humiliated, to be humble, to be mediocre to become
integrated.” (Foot, 1999, p. 215) Indeed, in one of the film dialogues, Simone refers to Milan as a
place in which one needs to be “poisoned” and “work like an animal.”
Other Visconti films are imbued with an explicit obsession with the image and memory of the
countryside (paese) in the South—or as it is referred to in the film— terra di primavera. This
fascination that Visconti and his characters have with the agrarian culture contrasts with the
sequence of nightmare scenarios that Rocco, Simone and their family experience. While the
allusions to the enchantment and glamour of paese and the South conform to the nostalgic
memories of an ideal place, the everyday life of the characters in Milan is an introduction to the
complexities of modernity for Rocco’s family.
Similar to Visconti, other post-war Italian filmmakers such as Pier Paolo Pasolini drew upon the
nostalgia of the lost values of paese. The humanity and warmth that is forever gone and destroyed
by neo-capitalism and neo-bourgeoisie within the modern city. For Neorealist and post-war Italian
filmmakers, the cultural change was not a problem in itself. What they tried to emphasize was that
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

the cultural connection with the original terra (land) was lost and contaminated by the “corruption”
and “impurity” of the urban middle-class culture. (Pasolini, 2013).
Despite all of the dystopic images and descriptions and the profound regret for the lost land
(terra) and the paese, Milan was at times depicted as a generous city in Rocco; it was the land of
opportunities that accommodated the Economic Miracle. In one interview, Visconti described Milan
as “the Australia of Italy” and stated that the Milan in the film was “not only hospitable [but] also Page | 100
generous” (Palazzini & Raimondi, 2009, p. 51) (Visconti, p. 73). In the words of one of his characters,
Milan is a city where its “mayor does not leave anyone in the middle of the street.”
The alienation and corruption in Milan is represented by Simone, the second eldest brother,
who becomes a boxer but is led astray by an obsessive passion for a Milanese prostitute called
Nadia. The relationship between Simone and Nadia epitomises the impossible reconciliation
between the Southern family and a city which is willing to compromise its values and trade its
humanity for economic benefit. According to Licari, the first version of the screenplay had Nadia as
Simone’s fiancé from Lucania, the southern hometown of the Parondis. However, during the visit
to the Fabio Filzi Housing Quarter (Quartiere Fabio Filzi), Visconti decided that Nadia should be a
Milanese woman who symbolised Milan and countered Simone; a character who cannot integrate
into the metropolitan society.
Notions such as honour, family, brotherhood and solidarity contrast the values of the city and
become uncontrollable sources of predicament. Yet the destruction of the Parondi family is caused
not only by the contradictions between the values of the countryside and the city. The city itself, its
circumstances and hidden layers that are represented by the characters and their actions lead to
the fall of the family. For example, Nadia represents the exploitation and commercialisation of the
clandestine sex market in the city and attacks the family on their arrival in Milan, while Morini, the
rich entrepreneur of the boxing club, metaphorically points out the casino-like economy of the
metropolis. These negative facets of Milan contrast with the bucolic images we imagine according
to the ideal and wholesome descriptions of the South by the Parondis; a land of fresh air, sun and
sea — “moonbeams and rainbows” in the words of Rocco in a scene that was meant to be shot in
the Southern town of Matera (I Sassi), but never eventuated. (Foot, 1999, p. 220). Instead, Visconti
allowed the audience to simply imagine a rural southern utopia based on the Parondi family
descriptions, rather than film one and risk showing the audience the actual poverty of that location.

3. The body of the city

Understanding the political landscape of post-war Italy and the South/North tension is an
indispensable element to perceive the image of Milan in the film. In this regard, both theoretical
and literal sources that led to the production of Rocco, as well as the socio-politicals debates around
the films, are to be taken into consideration.
Rocco the film is premised on Giovanni Verga’s Rocco: Malavoglia (1881), Giovani Testori’s Il
ponte della Ghisolfa (1958) and Antonio Gramsci’s ‘The Southern Question’ (1926). These texts
draw on a series of dichotomies such as family and society, peasant and worker, and North and
South. Visconti regarded ‘The Southern Question’ (c. 1927) posed by Gramsci as the main
theoretical source for Rocco and remarked: “I have always seen ‘The Southern Question’ as one of
the principal sources of my inspiration for Rocco and His Brothers” (Visconti, 1960, p. 12).
Gramsci’s essay theorizes that the notion of class exploitation can be understood as a kind of
“urban exploitation” and is a radically “geographical” and “urban” issue (Gramsci, 1978, pp. 283,
343, 350). For him, class exploitation led by the “urban petite bourgeoisie” is redefined and
somewhat facilitated in the northern cities when the peasants of the south become the workers of
the north (Gramsci, 1978, p. 343) (Rosengarten, 2013, p. 61) (Rohdie, 1992, p. 13). He called for the
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

alliance between the Southern peasants and the Northern workers under the leadership of the
Communist Party, a unification that is symbolised by Vincenzo, Ciro and Luca in the film.
In 1971, the Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben published a crucial relevant piece in relation
to the classic masterpiece in Il Manifesto that is rarely discussed. The article, ‘The Death of Lives;
Deprived of Politea’ (‘Morto dei Vivi: Deprivati di Politea’), appears to be an early version of an idea
Page| 101 that was later developed in Agamben’s well-known text Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare
Life (1998). Agamben argues that the situation of the Southern immigrants is close to political and
social death. In the essay, Agamben explicates that a human is not only a natural biological body
that lives and survives but also the ‘body of city’, a ‘political body’.
Borrowing the notions of ‘banned from the city’ and ‘deprived of the city’ from ancient Rome,
he elucidates that Simone and Rocco, as representatives of the Southern immigrants, are deprived
three times. First, they are deprived of their terra and this is why Northern people call them
terrone—people who left their land (terra), the Southern land. Second, they are excised from their
“cultural personae and identity” which has its roots in their previous land (Agamben, 1971, p. 4).
They are expected to behave and conform with Northern metropolitan culture. This disconnect
with the cosmopolitan Milanese culture is evident in several dialogues in the film. For instance,
Ginetta, Vincenzo's girlfriend, says to Vincenzo “Can't you understand that we're not in Lucania
anymore?” Finally, according to Agamben, the brothers are banned from Milan, simply because
they are terrone and come from the South.
In fact, Rocco and Simone surrender their ‘body to the city’ and only participate by
fighting/boxing with their ‘natural body’. The exclusion and alienation of Rocco’s family is repeated
in the film and there are many scenes in which they are called terrone. Cecchi, the boxing trainer,
remarks: “you are terrone, they are right! You don’t understand anything. You can’t learn anything.
Uncivilized! Undisciplined people!” or in another scene, when the Parondis first enter their home
in the basement of a building in Quartiere Fabio Filzi. The doorkeeper calls them in an insulting
manner ‘African,’ as outsiders and foregners, which negating a valid connection to Italy.

4. Milan: images and places of oblivion

Architectural historian Alfredo Ronchetta asserts that Rocco and His Brothers is a unique
cinematic example that addresses different aspects of everyday life in a city that is in a phase of
transformation: new industries, labour conditions, housing problems, control and discipline,
generation gaps and social unrest and oblivion (Ronchetta, 2007, p. 124). However, the film is not
about any of the singular issues, it is about the “unseen reality” of Milan itself (Ronchetta, 2007, p.
124).
According to filmmaker and film historian Chale Nafus, Rocco and His Brothers was the first
Italian film that had “a wide international audience” and Visconti was acclaimed for depicting a
hidden Milan and the dark side of the 'capital of the miracle’ (Nafus, 2019). Nonetheless, the
realistic gaze of Visconti on Milan and his loyalty to real locations resulted in an unwelcome image
of the city that was boycotted and censored, particularly by journalists and the Italian government.
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

The cinematic reflection of the “moral capital city” of Italy and the “archetype of Italian
modernity” sparked a strong wave of fierce criticism from Italian critics and journalists (Rabissi,
2019, p. 1084) (Nafus, 2019). The Italian newspaper Avanti! denounced Rocco as “destroy[ing] the
myth of the big city of general progress and wellbeing” ("Rocco e I Suoi Fratelli," 1960, p. 9). Another
newspaper L'Unità, criticised Rocco, claiming that the film put a spotlight on only the “dark zones
of our social and civil life” and “uncovers what was rotten” ("Visconti? A Vero Milanese?," 1960, p.
Page | 102
3).

Figure 1 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo)

The relentless pressure of local authorities forced Visconti to shoot some of the scenes
elsewhere. For example, the scene of Nadia’s murder was originally intended to be shot it alongside
one of Milan’s canals (navilgli) but the provincial authorities refused Visconti’s permission as they
were afraid that “a scene involving murder and prostitution would be bad for tourist development
in the area” (Rohdie 1992, 11). Ultimately the scene was shot in Lago Fogliano in the province of
Latina in the Lazio region. (Figure 1)

Figure 2 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

Visconti insisted on several cinematic strategies to draw a realistic image of the city which did
not correspond with how Milan was portrayed in other media at the time. In 1959, Visconti and
Giuseppe Rotunno, the director of cinematography, were able to shoot the film in colour, however
they made a deliberate choice to use black and white as Visconti and Rotunno believed this is “how
a Southern Immigrant sees the city” (Rohdie, 1992, p. 9). The city was always filmed with high
contrast and the interiors are shot with low-key lighting. Almost all the significant scenes of the film
take place during the night or in dark interiors: the arrival of the family, boxing fights, the scene in
which Simone rapes Nadia, etc. The only bright, thoroughly lit and fully exposed scene in the film is
the last scene where Luca, the character who represents a bright future, meets his brother in front
of the Alfa-Romeo factory. (Figure 2)
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

In the Duomo scene, although set in the daytime, we see the high angle of the satanic and grey
city filmed from an exaggerated perspective which is the picture of the emotional predicament of
Rocco and Nadia. (Figure 3)

Page| 103

Figure 3 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

What is remarkable about Rocco and His Brothers is the fact that its script is driven by the
locations visited by Visconti and his team; critical places that inform the structure of the film that
included: Parco Sempione, in front of Ponte delle Sirentte (Ghisini sisters) — the location of Rocco’s
daily training — the Standa building in downtown where Vicenzo meets Ginetta in its backyard and
Unione Sportiva Lombarda in Via Giovanni Belleza. (Figure 4)

Figure 4 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

The first boxing battle takes place in Opera Nazionale Balilla, a building in Via Pietro Mascagni
designed by the rationalist architect, Mario Cereghini. The second boxing fight (in which Simone is
defeated) and the third (the first win of Rocco) occur sin Teatro Principe in via Bligny. The final
boxing fight in which Rocco wins was filmed in Palazzetto dello Sport designed by Paolo Vietti Violi
(1925) in Piazza Febbraio (Fiera Campionaria) in front of the entrance of Piazzale Giulio Cesare. Two
crucial locations at the beginning of the film and discuss how the places contributed to the
cinematic image of Milan that Visconti intended to build.
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

4.1. Stazione Centrale and the Tram Journey

Page | 104

Figure 5 Opening Title. Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

From the first moment of the film, Visconti attempts to visualize the striking tension between
the family and the city. The opening of the film is the arrival of the Parondi at the railway station,
Milano Centrale, which is situated in the city centre of Milan. The film opens with a long shot of
Milano Centrale and the film audience hears the song My Beautiful Village (Bel Paese Mio) by the
well-known composer Nino Rota, with lyrics by G. Giagni, and performed by Elio Mauro. (Figure 5)
The song foreshadows the main theme of Visconti’s film, the nostalgia of paese and the struggle in
the city. The song, with lyrics describing the nostalgic longings for home, is in the dialect of
Basilicata, the southern Italian region in Lucania that the Parondis arrive from
“Quanto è grande il mondo (How big the world is)
La strada è lunga assai (The road is very long)
Non pigli il sonno (non prendi sonno) (do not sleep)
Bel paese mio Dove sono nato Il mio cuore per te l'ho lasciato (My beautiful country, where I was born,
and where I left my heart)”
The long shot of the deep, gigantic and monumental structure of Milano Centrale contrasts with
the song about paese. Visconti encapsulated the essence of his narrative in this contradiction which
is revealed in the opening of the film. The prison-like Milano Centrale, as depicted by Visconti, is an
emblematic representation of Visconti’s idea of “cage-city”. (Palazzini & Raimondi, 2009, p. 55) In
the scene of Milano Centrale we see Rosaria, the mother, with Simone, Rocco, Ciro, Luca and their
eldest brother, while Vincenzo is already in Milan, celebrating his engagement to Ginetta, also from
a family of Southern migrants but well-established in Milan. The family exits from the western
staircases of Milano Centrale, towards Piazza Duca d’Aosta.
The family catches tram number 23, which travels from Stazione Centrale to the outer suburb
of Lambrate. (Figure. 6 - 7) This scene is one of the very first moments we see the alienation of the
Paraondis in Milan. Apart from the difference in accent revealed in the dialogues, an audience
immediately realizes that Rosaria is not familiar with the jargon of urban life and terms used for
public transportation. When the tram driver uses the term capolinea (the Italian term for terminus),
Rosaria does not grasp the term and the tram driver needs to repeat it again and explain “last stop;
where the tram cannot go any further.”
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

Page| 105

Figure 6 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

Figure 7 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

As the film historian Gian Pier Brunetta wrote “the repetition of the words is a sign of an absolute
estrangement between the two worlds of the nearly galactic distance between them . . . to
communicate they are reduced to single words, gestures, and photographs” (Brunetta, 2001, p. 88).
On the tram journey, Simone is amazed by the illuminated shops and tells Rocco, “It is not clear
whether it is day or night”. Viewing a city that is lavishly lit at night through the windows of a moving
machine (the tram) is a totally unprecedented experience for the family and it is their first
encounter with the unfamiliar environment of the Milanese metropolis.
4.2. Quartiere Fabio Filzi

Figure 8 Quartiere Fabio Filzi. Photograph by Giuseppe Colonese. 1940. (Archivio CFP Bauer, Milano.)

The Quartiere Fabio Filzi, the first dwelling of the Parondi family, plays a key role in the film. The
Fabio Filzi neighborhood was a series of public housing apartment blocks designed by the young
architect Franco Albini and his colleagues Renato Camus, Giancarlo Palanti. They were the winner
of a social housing competition announced by Istituto Fascista Case Popolari (IFACP) in 1932. The
group of architects first met in the office of the anti-academy and Modern movement adherent
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

magazine, Casabella, and were early proponents of Italian rationalist architecture as an association
with the international style of the modern architecture movement. (Figure 8 - 9)

Page | 106

Figure 9 Quartiere Fabzio Filzi. Photographer unknown, Renato Camus and Giancarlo Palanti. 1939. (Biblioteca
comunale Paolo Borsellino, Como.)

Quartiere Fabio Filzi was constructed in two stages in 1937 and 1938 (Prina, 2006, p. 2).
According to architecture historian Raffaele Pugliese, Quartiere Fabio Filzi was a revolutionary
exercise in the period of Italian rationalist architecture and its public housing projects (Pugliese,
2005, p. 17). The project became an exemplar for other social housing projects amongst other
Italian architects in the 1930s and 1940s. Moreover, the design language, spatial arrangement and
use of materiality in this project were reiterated in other projects by Albini. (Figure 10 - 11)

Figure 10 Site Perspective. By Franco Albini, Renato Camus and Giancarlo Palanti. 1935. (Archivio Fondazione Franco
Albini, Milan.)

Figure 11 Quartiere Fabio Filzi. Photographer unknown, Renato Camus and Giancarlo Palanti. 1939. (Biblioteca
comunale Paolo Borsellino, Como.)

The site plan of all of the projects encompasses two lines of buildings in parallel with one
another, based on a north-south axis. In Fabio Filzi there are two types of buildings: four and five-
story buildings incorporating three units on each floor and two units in the basement. This type of
organisational strategy was adopted by other important social housing projects such as CIAM:
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

Milano Verde, Quattro Citta Sateliti and Piano A.R in Milan, Piacenza, Novara, Torino, Besnate and
Genova.
In his 1939 Casabella article, ‘An Oasis of Order’, the architectural critic Guiseppe Pagano
considered Quartiere Fabio Filzi as an influential moment in public housing in Italy. Fabio Filzi was
the first public housing project in Italy, according to Pagano, that prioritized the “life quality of
Page| 107 working-class users” and integrated a “new order” into the chaotic form of Milan’s urban context
(Pagano, 1939, p. 8). He claims that the neighborhood was intended to accommodate immigrant
working-class people coming from small towns of the South and its “order, geometrical simplicity
and functionalism” was meant to prepare them to accept the order of their new urban environment
of Milan. (Figure 12)

Figure 12 Elevation. By Franco Albini, Renato Camus and Giancarlo Palanti. 1935. (Archivio Fondazione Franco
Albini, Milan.)

He writes:
[I]n the confusing mosaic of dwellings in Milan, the Fabio Filzi quarter represents an extremely
rare exception. Houses open on all sides instead of the barracks with closed courtyards; the house
made for the health of inhabitants to act as sidewalk screens; houses well aligned and rationally
arranged in a harmonious and disciplined composition instead of the usual sampling of twentieth-
century gaudiness (Pagano, 1939, p. 8-9)
In an interview with the authors, Mario Licari explains how Visconti chose this location and how
the architectural attributes of the location contributed to the story of the film:
In the first version of the screenplay, there was another character named Imma, instead of
Nadia, who was a girl from Lucania and ex-fiance of Simone, who afterwards falls in love with Rocco.
We visited the location, Quartiere Fabio Filzi, (on September 4, 1958, based on my notes) and I
think, there, Visconti decided to change the character of Imma to Nadia. Visconti was not happy
with the idea that Imma is a southern girl. He thought the encounter with the character must be
something generated by life in Milan, or someone substantially from Milan, a phenomenon
produced by Milan and related to “vivere in citta” (living in city). In the last version of the script,
Nadia is from Cremona, a village close to Milan… While visiting the location of Quartiere Fabio Filzi,
which was suggested by Ferdinando Giovannoni, the assistant to set designer Mario Garbuglio. In
the backyard, I remember very well, I was with Visconti, Giovannoni, Enrico Medioli [co-screen
writer] and Rumolo Germano, another Visconti’s assistant, and Giuseppe Rotunno, the
cinematographer, was behind us and was taking some photos. Visconti was explaining that he was
doing two things. First, he was revising the story of Imma and in the meantime, he was trying to
make the story of Rocco closer to the story of Joseph in the Bible to make, in his opinion, a more
Biblical film. He said that we should rethink the role of this girl (Imma), as she is probably the most
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

important element of this tragedy. I think in the Bible there is something that can be represented
by the girl, there is that corrupting element also in the story of Joseph. Visconti was explaining the
character of Imma and we were on the staircase that goes to the basement (the selected location)
of the third building on the right hand where you turn to the left from the main entrance of Via
Birago. Visconti said, the girl should not be from the South, should be someone from Milan or
Lombardy, for example, should be the product of this system, should come from this environment,
Page | 108
exactly from somewhere like here (Visconti was impressed by the location). For example, they [the
Parondi] could come across her here, exactly here, in this staircase and said ecco [that is it], here
would be fantastic and called Rotunno to explain to him. (Figure 13)

Figure 13 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

In 1995, Caterina D’amico, the daughter of Visconti’s screenwriter Suso Cecchi D'Amico
published Visconti’s notes and letters and some tapes recorded in Visconti and His Life and Work.
D’Amico transcribed a tape recording sent by Visconti to her mother, Visconti’s screenwriter on 14
September 1958 (ten days after Visconti’s visit to Fabio Filzi). The recording tape entails Visconti’s
thoughts about the story of Rocco and His Brothers. In a segment of the tape Visconti talks about
the character of Imma and his site visit to Quartiere Fabio Filzi:
The character of the girl for us could be, obviously on another level, the city; Milan which is the
girl, the corruption. The girl should be the symbol of the city and like the city, she does not have a
label that I am a corrupting person; cannot be a peasant from the South. It should be a modern
thing, an urban thing; for example, a mannequin? story of a mannequin with a background, an
extended family, brother, sisters, kids ... This is why I am thinking of different characters; a nurse?
A worker? From Milan?, or I do not know, maybe a foreigner but working in Milan for many years!
Anyway, I found also another surprising fact in all the crimes, in all the strange stories that have
taken place in Italy: there is always a prostitute and this is an Italian reality. (D'Amico De Carvalho,
Marzot, & Tirelli, 1995, p. 53)

Figure 14 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

As the transcribed tape recording from Visconti reveals, for him, the character of the prostitute,
Imma, representing the de-humanizing nature of the city is not a popolana in Neorealist films.
(Figure 14) Similar to a generous number of Italian films in 50s and 60s she might be a prostitute
but that is the only common feature. Imma does not possess the attributes of a quintessential
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

popolana, a strong woman with a “victim status” who “struggles with the problems of daily life” as
appears in Neorealist films (Charitonidou, 2022, p. 8). This character is meant to personify the
gradual corruption the city inflicted onto the family. In the same recording tape, Visconti speaks
about the Quartiere Fabio Filizi and how he imagined the Parondi family meeting Imma there:
We visited some buildings somewhere close to Ortica which is supposed to be the location of
Page| 109 their first apartment, in the basement. You should see the place; it is sad and gloomy; white boring
buildings close to each other, very sad and upsetting. That is one of the social housing apartments
which is just enough to live in. All of the inhabitants are workers, from the South, Varese, Lecco,
Como even foreigners live there but they all live miserable life. I said to Rumolo that maybe it is not
a bad idea that Imma meets them there, a prostitute who is escaping from someone or by chance,
or who knows how. They can meet when they arrive. (D'Amico De Carvalho et al., 1995, p. 53)
The interview with Licari and the archival material discloses an evident discord between
Visconti’s description of the buildings and the way in which architectural media praised the project.
In Visconti’s comments, and in the scene itself, a clear chasm between what the piece of
architecture was intended to do and the real experience it provides is obvious. The selection of the
location and the way in which it is portrayed clarifies that what moulded and drove the work of
Visconti is his obsession with the ‘reality’ of places. The approach taken by Visconti is a sign of
loyalty and a “return” to Neorealist cinema which—as Bazin put it—is founded on the basis of the
creation of “a universe that is not metaphorical and figurative but spatially real” (Bazin, 1967, p.
19).
Although Rocco and His Brother is too “operatic” and “star-driven” to match the formal and
aesthetic criteria of Neorealist films, it is an exemplary model of Neorealism in its content and
method of ideation and production (Nafus, 2019). The film entails all the features of the Neorealist
films: tells the story of “the victims of society”, gives voice to “the lower classes, workers and
peasants”, addresses “the polarity between northern and southern Italy” and, most importantly,
configures a narrative that is “spatially real” (Author, 2011) (Vitti, 1996, p. XXIII) (Charitonidou,
2022, p. 2) (Bazin, 1967, p. 19).
Rocco and His Brothers is made in the same period as other Neorealist films such as Il Posto
(Ermanno Olmi, 1961), Una Storia Milanese (Eriprando Visconti, 1962), and Il Disordine (Franco
Brusati, 1961). The group of films had a remarkable influence on “the production and perception”
of the image of post-war Milan (Rabissi, 2019, p. 1094). Nevertheless, Visconti’s somewhat
obsessive ‘spatial realism’ and his ‘surgical location scouting’ resulted in an image of Milan that was
fundamentally different from what people expected to see on the silver screen.
4.3. TV and Renaissance paintings
While Rocco and His Brothers is seen as a film about paradoxical Milan and the events that take
place in its urban spaces, one of the most vital scenes of the film that reveals the message behind
Visconti’s masterpiece is an enigmatic interior scene. The interiors in Rocco and his Brothers are
mostly flat, dark, empty and lit by artificial light. The only interior scene saturated with details,
objects and decorations is the interior of Morini’s house, the boxing club owner. An affluent man
with a strong Milanese accent, he is one of the corrupting figures in the story and pays for Simone’s
gambling, sex and alcohol. In the scene, Morini tries to seduce Simone and finally, Simone and
Morini end up hitting each other. Before their conflict in the room, Morini switches on the TV and
on the screen appears five Renaissance paintings that, as Visconti stated, summarize the message
of the film (D’Amico, 2015b). Licari remarked that the act of placing the paintings on the TV screen
through the means of trucage and visual effects took more than two months. Due to time and
H.A. Khalili, A. Brennan / A failure in resilience: The corrupting influence of postwar Milan in Visconti’s Rocco and His Brothers

financial constraints, Visconti’s producer tried to dissuade him from the scene but Visconti believed
the paintings are crucial to the film. (Figure 15 - 16)

Page | 110

Figure 15 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

Figure 16 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

The five paintings on the screen are Saint George and the Dragon (1504–1506) and Vision of a
Knight (1504–1505) by Raphael, Danae (1553–1554) by Titian, The Tempest (1508) by Giorgione
and The Fall of Man (1550) by Titian. All the paintings feature a male and female protagonist that
probably represents Rocco (or Simone) and Nadia. The paintings recount the concepts narrated by
the story of the film, tragic notions such as sexuality, sin, temptation, conflict and descent;
alongside an incessant battle and predicament all accompanied by a highlighted tempting female
figure with a strong influence on the male protagonist. (Figure 17 - 18)

Figure 17 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

Figure 18 Screenshot from Rocco and His Brothers. (Goffredo Lombardo.)

 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 97-112

While we can only speculate, we can begin to surmise the motivations behind Visconti’s
obsession and focus on this scene as communicating the message of the film. In this scene, he has
strategically combined two very different modes of media, two different ways of communicating
stories—Renaissance painting and television—one old, and one new. The act of viewing
Renaissance painting on the new medium of the television can be a metaphor for the Parondi family
and their transplantation into the Rationalist housing within the bustling modern metropolis of
Page| 111
Milan.
While we can observe a painting on television, just as the Parondi family can physically move
their bodies to the city (in the Agamben sense), for both the Parondis, and in the viewing of
Renaissance paintings, something very real and authentic is lost, something that Benjamin would
describe as aura at least in the case of works of art. What Visconti may have been trying to
communicate with this scene is that for the Parondis, and perhaps for Italy, all of the supposed
benefits of postwar modernization brought about through the Economic Miracle, manifest within
the city of Milan, comes at a cost, a cost which is the loss of an [mostly] agrarian culture with
traditional values from Southern Italy.

5. Conclusion
The 1960 Italian film Rocco and His Brothers (Rocco e i suoi Fratelli) depicts the disintegration
and deterritorialization of an immigrant family from Southern Italy to Milan. In the film, Visconti,
continuously alludes to the nostalgic and wholesome image of paese which contrasts with the
ubiquitous alienation, exploitation, and paradoxical nature of Milan. The signs and metaphors in
the film explicitly and implicitly reinforce the evident tension between the Southern Italian
immigrant family and an industrialized northern metropolis.
By investigating the testimony of Visconti’s assistant Mario Licari, this article was able to
meaningfully revisit locations such as Quartiere Fabio Filzi, the Alfa Romeo Factory, the Milan
Duomo, Ponte Della Ghisolfa, Parco Sempione, Stazione Centrale and Circolo Arci Bellezza in order
to understand their significance in the telling of the film’s narrative. Concepts from Gramsci and
Agamben create a theoretical framework that works in parallel with a detailed analysis of the urban
Milanese scenes, original archival material, dialogues, places, and the history of architecture in
these locations. Gramsci points out that class exploitation occurs at the level of the city, that it is in
fact a geographic, indeed urban phenomenon. We understand from Agamben how the problems
facing Rocco and his family original from spatial and geographic territory include being shunned
from the city and deprived of la terra, and their cultural identity, which is tied to the land. Visconti
is able to illustrate the theories of Gramsci while using well-known Milanese sites as vehicles for
storytelling. In the final scenes we see Visconti engaging with new types of postwar media in the
form of the television shows us that while the medium may change and advance technologically,
tragic stories such as Rocco and his Brothers are eternal.

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Resume
Hamid Amouzad Khalili is a Lecturer (Asst. Professor) in Architectural, Interior and Spatial Design at the
University of Edinburgh. He operates within the spaces between the theory and practice of architectural
design, technology and media. Hamid has taught, developed and coordinated theory and studio courses in
both architecture and film schools across three continents at both undergraduate and postgraduate levels.
His research primarily examines the intersection between architecture and digital narrative media such as
film, animation, video games VR reality and varied types of immersive technologies.

AnnMarie Brennan is Senior Lecturer of Design Theory at the University of Melbourne. Her teaching and
research investigate the history and theory of twentieth- and twenty first-century design and architecture,
with a focused interest on the intersection between design and media, political economy, and machine culture.
Some publications include Perspecta 32: Resurfacing Modernism (MIT Press), Cold War Hothouses: from
Cockpit to Playboy (Princeton Architectural Press) and articles in AA Files, Journal of Design History, Design
and Culture, Journal of Architecture, Candide, Inflection, and Interstices, among others.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Issue 2, (113-121), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si075

Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films:

The notions of Space and Transcendence

Yannis Mitsou*

Abstract

In this article Andrei Tarkovsky’s films are studied through the lens of existential
philosophical traditions. At the heart of Tarkovsky’s narratives lies a yearning for
authenticity, a need for freedom and an intention to communicate with otherness in its
various manifestations. Whereas spirituality is clearly an important factor in Tarkovsky’s
aesthetic explorations, we focus on materiality and corporeality: a violent sensuality,
associated to what Albert Camus perceives as a revolt of the flesh, plays a crucial part in
Tarkovsky’s seven films. A desire to escape oppressive aspects of everyday reality in order
to approach an ideal location (mostly related to memories of childhood) gives rise to the
urgent need for transcendence described in Tarkovsky’s body of work. The two key terms,
the notions of transcendence and space, are closely related to one another. The importance
of poetry, not as a literary term, but as a way to interpret and challenge everyday reality,
will be a key factor in the reading of this process.

Keywords: film philosophy, existentialism, material reality, transcendence, space

This article explores the relationship between Andrei Tarkovsky’s visual themes and motifs and
architecture, in its broader sense, as a way for the individual to actively redefine space, create new
realities through this process and, most importantly, establish a link between artistic production
and everyday life. The philosophical connotations of this search echo various ideas familiar to us
from existentialism; Powerful images throughout Tarkovsky’s body of work attempt to reorganize
reality through subjective experience and perception, taking into consideration even irrational 1 or
ritualistic aspects of life: the constant use of dream images, products of fantasy and desire, or the
tendency to actively replace either a person or a location from the past with another in memories,
notably the relocation of Harri( Natalya Bondarchuk), the lost woman of the past, as Mother, in
the house of infancy, in the climax of Solaris (1972), are illustrative examples of the director’s
expressed distrust for scientific objectivity as the only valid way to perceive reality 2.

1
Tarkovsky’s irrational tendencies have been explored by various thinkers. Luca Governatory describes a “redemptive irrationality”
(Governatori, 2002, p. 15) as his most defining feature. Gilles Visy (Visy, 2005, p. 58) will use the same in term in relation to Tarkovsky’s
1976 film Stalker.
2
“By means of art man takes over reality through a subjective experience. In science man's knowledge of the world makes its way up
an endless staircase and is successively replaced by new knowledge, with one discovery often enough being disproved by the next for
the sake of a particular objective truth. An artistic discovery occurs each time as a new and unique image of the world, a hieroglyphic
of absolute truth”. (Tarkovsky, 1987, p. 37).

*(Corresponding author), Ph.D., King’s College London, Hellenic Open University, Greece, giannismitsou@gmail.com
Article history: Received 01 September 2022, Accepted 02 October 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
Y. Mitsou / Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films: The notions of space and transcendence

This view, defined by a priority given to poetic subjectivism and a preference of intuition over
rationality, as a safer way to interpret reality and human relationships, follows a theoretical
tradition familiar to us both from western and Russian existential philosophers; notable are the
cases of Søren Kierkegaard, Lev Shestov, and Nikolai Berdyaev.
While it is tempting to suppose that what these thinkers share with Tarkovsky is a metaphysical
view of the world, it is actually their existential focus on the individual that really serves as point of Page | 114
reference for our purposes. It is notable that Tarkovsky was also deeply influenced by the writings
of Albert Camus; among other unrealized projects, he expressed, in his diaries, interest for a
possible adaptation of Camus’ memorable 1947 novel The Plague (Tarkovsky, 1988, p. 21).
Interestingly for a thinker that constantly expresses metaphysical concerns, Tarkovsky’s images
never negate everyday life, on the contrary, even when they attempt to visualize inner situations,
they always seem to do so through an emphasis on materiality. As we shall see, throughout the
films, an undeniable priority is given on material space, and by extension on the human body.
When it comes to the relationship between Tarkovsky’s film narratives and the notion of “lived
space” or “existential space” 3 there are, we note, at least three ways to understand the dynamic
between Tarkovsky’s characters and their surroundings, three ways that are to be understood in
their interrelation rather than read as factors separate from one another:
1. First, we have space as a thematic motif referring to the individual’s need to approach
an ideal location, to understand and influence, even transform, what is conventionally
perceived as an outside reality. Both the Ocean in Solaris and the Zone in Stalker (1979),
in their ability to create new realities based on inner motivations, are fictional entities
that seem to depict, to literally visualize, such needs. In Mirror (1975) and Nostalghia
(1983), films that lack the science fiction aspect of Solaris and Stalker, this ideal location
is described quite literally as the place of birth, linked with the past, therefore defined
by a loss. Such a location cannot be approached without some form of transcendence-
I use the term in its existential rather than spiritual connotations 4, a dynamic process
that soon comes forward and becomes the moving factor of the plot of the films in
question.
2. Then there is a constant interest in space as an aesthetic element. Tarkovsky’s films are
built not only on narrative lines but also on evocative, and often ambiguous, visual
structures. Images that often choose to ignore Euclidean space and even the strict logic
of cause and effect, in its broader sense, in a conscious attempt to recreate outside
reality;the most obvious example here is the various flight scenes, found throughout
Tarkovsky’s body of work.
3. Finally, the same emphasis can be mirrored in the non-linear structures of the films
themselves. We have, as a result, an existential conception of space, that dominates
Tarkovsky’s films even as a structural element. Mirror seems to be the most obvious
example of this tendency, but even Ivan’s Childhood (1962), Tarkovsky’s first feature
film that seems at first glance to evolve more conventionally, as a coming-of-age story,
follows the same poetic pattern; the narrative challenges the way space and time are
traditionally perceived, through the intervention of Ivan’s dreams. As already
mentioned, these three ways to approach filmic space (thematic, aesthetic and
structural) are clearly interlinked, and should be understood only in relation to one
another.
There is also a notable connection between the corporeal element, the emphasis on the human
body and architecture. Locations are, arguably, perceived by Tarkovsky as natural extensions of the

3
A term used, between others, by the Finish architect and theoretician Juhani Pallasmaa (Pallasmaa, 2008).
4
For a brief examination of the term Transcendence and its long “lineage in the history of western metaphysics”, (Rolli, 2004, p. 50)
Marc Rolli’s analysis is of special interest. The term is also thoroughly examined by Jean Wahl (Whal, 2017).
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(2): 113-121

human body. Whereas an undeniable distrust and bitterness is often connected with urban
civilization (the Sisyphean city of the future in Solaris, shot in Tokyo, in a memorable sequence)
locations are accepted as a natural part of reality and never used as symbols- there is after all, a
persistent distance from symbolism in Tarkovsky’s films, consistent with his theoretical views as
expressed in Sculpting in Time5 and other writings. Geographical areas are perceived by Tarkovsky,
in the context of each film, as actual entities, even when they reflect subjective desires, fears or
Page| 115
other inner conditions; an aesthetic choice that brings in mind phenomenological ideas about the
experience of the world of perception, primarily through the body. (Merleau-Ponty, 2004)
Interiority, fears and desires according to such a world-view are always understood in relation
to the world of senses. And when this natural communication between human bodies and their
surroundings is threatened by outside forces, the filmic narratives focus on the need for an intended
reconciliation between the individual and the outside world: a notable depiction of such an event
is the crisis the painter Andrei(Anatoly Solonitsyn ) faces during the threat of a historically defined
crisis, the attack of the Tartars, in Andrei Rublev( 1966) and the way he chooses life and artistic
production over bitterness and self-isolation. It is in this regard that Tarkovsky’s understanding of
the relation between the individual and the world around it, the lived or existential space, leads to
a call for action; and by extension proves to be both powerful and liberating.

1. Corporeality and Revolt: Tarkovsky’s theoretical traditions and opposition to western

positivism.
As we begin our exploration of the existential themes and motifs that lie at the heart of
Tarkovsky’s films, in order to define, as their natural extension, the intended relationship between
the individual and the space around it that they suggest, we focus on the corporeal element. In
Tarkovsky’s films human bodies are constantly depicted as entities that tend to revolt, or even to
rebel, against the existing order: sometimes they are seen suffering (the crown of thorns worn by
the Writer in Stalker) making love (the pagan celebration in Andrei Rublev) or even elevated in
religious ecstasy: the latter is suggested in the evocative erotic flight scene between Alexander
(Erland Josephson) and Maria (Guðrún Gísladóttir) in Sacrifice (1986). For Tarkovsky, the image of
the human body becomes a perfect visualization of what Camus describes as the “revolt of the
flesh” (Camus, 1942, p. 20).Indeed, the realization of the absurd, a notion that, contrary to popular
beliefs, isn’t mutual exclusive with the anxiety described by certain religious philosophies-as Camus’
focus on Christian existential thinkers, like Kierkegaard (Camus, 1942, p. 27) or Shestov (Camus,
1942, p. 42) makes clear- proves to be closely related with this priority of the material world,
depicted in Tarkovsky’s body of work.
Transcendence towards otherness, the natural culmination of the revolt of the body, is to be
found in this link between artistic creation (in all of its forms) and everyday experience. By
otherness here, we refer to the material world as well, seen as an object of desire, a space that
needs to be approached through lived experience. This priority of the senses and the subsequent
emphasis on corporeality are both in communication with the already mentioned broader
theoretical tradition of disbelief towards western positivism as the only safe way to approach
reality.
This neo-romantic view is expressed notably in Berdyaev’s philosophical work The Russian Idea
which suggests that two contradictory principles lay at the foundation of the structure of the
Russian soul “the one a natural, dionysian, elemental paganism” (Berdyaev, 1948, p. 3)and the
other an ascetic monastic orthodoxy. Lev Shestov’s memorable essay Athens and Jerusalem, that
reads suspiciously the Apollonian Athenian spirit and its influence on western civilization (Shestov,
1966) expresses similar ideas. The main concern of both thinkers, mirrored in Tarkovsky’s fiction, is

5
The purity of cinema, its inherent strength, is revealed not in the symbolic aptness of images (however bold these may be) but in the
capacity of those images to express a specific, unique, actual fact (Tarkovsky,1987, p. 72).
Y. Mitsou / Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films: The notions of space and transcendence

positivism’s indifference towards the less easily defined needs of the subject as an individual, needs
that cannot be easily approached through empirical knowledge or general axioms.
It is in this light that Tarkovsky’s heroes keep returning to the transformative and expressive
qualities of art, in order to approach otherness whereas the representatives of the pursuit of
knowledge in itself, a mentality that echoes the doctrines of scientific positivism, like Dr. Sartorius
(Anatoly Solonitsyn) in Solaris, Kyrill (Ivan Lapikov) in Andrei Rublev, and the unnamed Professor Page | 116
(Nikolai Grinko) in Stalker are all depicted in a negative light. Especially the Professor gives a clear
manifestation of this idea, as he enters the miraculous Zone, the idealized space, with the sole
intention of destroying it, being afraid of its possibilities.
It becomes apparent that what motivates Tarkovsky is not a desire to escape from a deeper
knowledge of the world, on the contrary western scientific positivism is seen suspiciously by him,
exactly because by focusing on general ideas, it tends to lose sight of individual aspects of reality
and hidden possibilities of everyday life. In contrast to what is usually expected from the platonic
and neo-platonic traditions that Tarkovsky’s metaphysical world-view is obviously influenced by,
we note that there is no sign of disbelief towards lived experience in itself. On the contrary
Tarkovsky’s depicted struggles always take place in the realm of everyday reality, even when the
desired outcome is transcendence, achieved through religious ecstasy, poetry or artistic creation.
It is exactly a tendency to reconcile irrationality with everyday life that defines Tarkovsky’s
understanding of architecture and space in general.
Lived experience for Tarkovsky is of the utmost importance, echoing both the existential,
Sartrean emphasis on action (Sartre, 1965) and Henri Bergson’s suggestion of developing a
conscious, sensitive relationship with reality, a process that the philosopher calls “attention to life”
(Bergson, 2004).
A notable difference, though, between Tarkovsky’s perception of lived experience and Sartre’s
understanding of action in the world, leaving aside Tarkovsky’s metaphysical beliefs, is the latter’s
emphasis not on the future but on the past, when it comes to his heroes’ attempts to redefine
reality; the motif of a lost idealized time period closely related to infancy keeps returning in
Tarkovsky’s films.
Sometimes this need is expressed through dreams or religious mysticism, (most notably in
Tarkovsky’s earlier films, Ivan’s Childhood and Andrei Rublev), others through memory (the most
evocative visual representation of memory probably can be found in Mirror). It is notable that in
the two cases when Tarkovsky’s films specifically take place on future worlds they either evoke past
times (the iconography of Stalker) or prove to be cold and deserted, as if the domination of the
technological civilization over nature and the subsequent isolation caused by this advancement has
brought distress (Solaris). For this reason, they are both seen by Tarkovsky as anti-romantic, if not
openly oppressive realities.
Again, the concept of a beloved person as a place becomes the only possible solution: both Hari
in Solaris and Stalker’s daughter are identified with places that bring comfort and offer sanctuary
from the oppressive outside forces in quite a literal sense. Hari becomes herself a manifestation of
the mother figure, the place of birth and, most impressively for our purposes, the house of infancy
through the redemptive powers of the Ocean of Solaris, in the evocative climactic sequence.
Whereas Stalker’s daughter is clearly a manifestation of the healing powers of the Zone, a
geographical area able to offer material reality to desires and other unapproachable inner
situations. It is important at this point to note that the concept of giving material reality to inner
feelings, in many ways crucial for existentialists and of the utmost importance for architecture in
its broader sense, becomes for Tarkovsky a priority. A variation of the same theme is the main plot
point of both Solaris and Stalker. The very same need, the desire for a character to see an inner
condition materialized, becomes the main philosophical concern of most of his films, notably
Nostalghia, once more a narrative centered on the idea of finding points of reference and ideal
locations, in order to exist.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(2): 113-121

2. Attempts to recreate Reality. Embracing the Absurd.

The way these needs, already linked to existentialism and irrationality, are dealt with, in
Tarkovsky’s films, is recreation of reality. Poetry in itself, not as a genre of literature but as a way to
experience, interpret, redefine and eventually alter everyday life, is of the utmost importance,
exactly because of its expressive overtones. Self-expression indeed is a vital need, rather than an
Page| 117 abstract concept in Tarkovsky’s fiction; as already mentioned the way to give rise to such a poetic
way of life and material reality to what, at first glance, might seem like a theoretical concept is the
films’ visual emphasis on the human body.
The idea of human flesh (and corporeality more general) as the perfect vehicle for self-
expression and communication with an equally expressive, dynamic in itself rather than passive,
outside world has both phenomenological and existential roots. Camus, when describing some
archetypal “absurd heroes”, focuses on the actor, the person that redefines and re-invents itself,
through performance, every night (Camus, 1942, p. 73). In Tarkovsky’s Sacrifice, Αlexander, the
main character and the one that manifests the idea of the “suffering body” in the most direct way,
is also a former actor. The title’s action, the destruction and sacrifice of the beloved house as a
present to a God only he can approach, through subjective experience, is an action of both self-
destruction and creation. Such contradictions are closely linked to the existential concept of
transcendence: the thematic connection to Kierkegaard’s reading of the biblical story of Abraham
in Fear and Trembling, that draws Abraham as another notable existential absurd hero
(Kierkegaard, 1983), is clearer than ever.
In Andrei Rublev, we also have the depiction of an actor, in this case a medieval folk singer or
jester, that manifests similar ideas and, in many ways, serves as a predecessor of Alexander. The
jester (Rolan Byko), whose tongue is later ripped out as a punishment for his heretic song mirroring
in a dark way Andrei Rublev’s vow of silence, seems to embody pre-Christian ideas in a Christian
world, to give expression to secret, sometimes even menacing, yearnings through his Bacchic
dance. At the same time the jester is an undoubtedly modern creation, echoing once more Camus’
ideal of the artist as the perfect manifestation of the absurd.
Even if, at first glance, the secondary character of the jester is depicted as an alternative to
Rublev, there is something striking similar between his performance and Andrei’s need for artistic
production and spiritual peace, a struggle that continues even in troubled times, during a
destructive foreign invasion of the Tartaric army.
The reassuring words, spoken by Andrei himself to Boriska, a crying young boy, during the
memorable closing scene (“I will paint and you will construct bells” 6) makes the connection
between the two artists more apparent than ever. Rublev himself, not unlike the jester, in a way
embraces the absurd in order to give material reality (through painting icons) to inner needs: artistic
creation, trust in intuition, expressiveness through dance are all equally important ways, for
Tarkovsky, to exist and communicate with the outside world. Once more the relationship between
the individual and the world around it, based on the concept of poetry as creation, is depicted in
an optimistic way; the absurd and irrational aspects of reality prove to be empowering in
themselves.

3. Absurd Creation and poetic living.

The link between Andrei Tarkovsky’s philosophical existential connotations and architecture, in
the broader sense of existing in space as an individual person by establishing a dynamic relationship
with otherness, with a location, or even through the dynamic gradual construction of a new reality,
a reality more satisfying than the oppressive one that preceded it, becomes evident. The concept
of “absurd creation” is defined by Camus as the ability to create oneself through an acceptance of
life in its contradictions, a possess that inevitably has the character of a violent act of revolt in itself,

6
Tarkovsky, Andrei Rublev.
Y. Mitsou / Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films: The notions of space and transcendence

rather than a reassuring self-awareness. A return to the world of everyday life is clearly the way to
approach spirituality for Tarkovsky and in this priority of the flesh there is something fundamentally
creative.
The ways to actually give form to inner needs varies: In Ivan’s childhood the concept of absurd
creation is approached through dream, in Mirror through memory, the power that structures the
narrative, in Andrei Rublev through artistic creation and spirituality. What all of these narratives Page | 118
have in common is the fact that they are structured on a loss, experienced by the main characters.
Loss of time period, but most importantly loss of a location that used to offer comfort. In Nostalghia,
one of the visually more impressive works of Tarkovsky the feeling of abandonment is carefully
linked with the absence of a desired geographical entity, the place of origin in itself. Absurd
creation, as a process, attempts to bravely bridge the loss of authenticity experienced by
Tarkovsky’s heroes with the already existing outside reality.
There is a notable difference between the world view expressed by Camus and the poetic
narratives that take place in Tarkovsky’s films. Tarkovsky, following a Russian mystical cultural
tradition, as well as an iconography of the suffering body familiar to us from Kierkegaard’s
existential readings of Christianity, gives special emphasis on the concept of passion, in both of its
connotations: passion as expression of personal feelings and emotions; and passion in the
etymological, literal sense as a synonym for suffering. Camus obviously is concerned with anxiety
as well, when examining the absurd and its influence on everyday life, but in Tarkovsky’s films
suffering is not so much a state of being, as it is a sensual reality, a lived experience of the body. A
visual emphasis on natural violence (like the blinding of the masons and the already mentioned
ripping of the tongue of the jester in Andrei Rublev) can be read as a notable example of the above.
Such acts of violence narratively serve as cathartic acts, mirroring the need for artistic creation that
lies at the heart of the film (the eyes and the tongue of the jester closely correspond to Andrei’s
visual exploration of life through painting, a form of art that in many ways evokes cinema) and
indicating subtly an interrelation between notions like the artistic creation (in itself an absurd
action), the experience of horror and the revolt of the human body.
Materiality and the corporeal element, in Tarkovsky’s body of work, is to be found in cinematic
depictions of human figures (with a consistent emphasis on suffering bodies), as well as in the
depiction of locations. People are actually identified with places, in a rather literal sense. The Zone
in Stalker, the Russian earth and the Church that needs to be constructed in Andrei Rublev and
Alexander’s house that (in interesting symmetries) needs to be destroyed in Sacrifice are all to be
seen as alive entities, rather than conventionally chosen locations and pieces of scenery where
events occur.
The realization of the concept of “Russian nostalgia” as a corporeal experience in itself, a violent
realization of an absence that takes place in the body and expressed through dream, fantasy and
other manifestations, a call for action rather than the bittersweet, somehow comforting
sentimentality that we have come to associate with nostalgic feelings in various western works of
art is also illuminating for our purposes. The yearning for an ideal location is also a yearning for
otherness, a desire to return in an irrevocably lost place or time period. The only way to achieve
such a relocation is through the absurd or, similarly, through artistic production. What should be
taken into consideration, at this point is that artistic creativity for Tarkovsky is not to be
distinguished from the world of everyday life, on the contrary artists in his films, like Alexander and
Andrei, are perceived as existential subjects 7 that struggle on a daily basis, in order to interpret
reality through art and give expression to their experience through the same liberating procedure
that, in his theoretical writings, Tarkovsky defines as poetry 8.

7
Kierkegaard uses the poetic term “Knight of faith” (Kierkegaard, 1983, p. 38) to describe the same condition.
8
“But to return to our theme: I find poetic links, the logic of poetry in cinema, extraordinarily pleasing. They seem to me perfectly
appropriate to the potential of cinema as the most truthful and poetic of art forms. Certainly, I am more at home with them than with
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(2): 113-121

4. Flight Motifs. Tarkvosky’s Yearning for Otherness.

The intended escape from the oppressions of outside reality is visually expressed in many subtle
ways but one of the most powerful aesthetic choices is the flight motif that keeps returning in
Tarkovsky’s films. Sometimes the flight depicted is logically explained, like the flight of Yefim
(Nikolay Glazkov), the villager in the introductory scene of Andrei Rublev, who attempts
Page| 119 metaphorically to become a bird, to fly on a hot air balloon, as he tries to escape from the invading
army, before collapsing into the earth.9 The evocative flight scene is Solaris, while poetic in nature
has also a rational basis, as the film follows conventions of science fiction: an absence of gravity in
the atmosphere of the planet where the action takes place. In other flight scenes the actions
depicted are related to aspects of life where subjective impressions are crucial like the experiences
of dreaming (Sacrifice, Ivan’s Childhood) and perceiving life through infancy (the memory of the
mother that elevates in Mirror). The narrative function of these, often enigmatic, scenes remains
the same: a desire for self- fulfillment and communication with Otherness, however one chooses
to define it. Notably, in Sacrifice, the flight scene is at the same time both an erotic scene (Alexander
makes love to Maria and the couple flight above the bed in a way that echoes the 1924 painting Au-
dessus de la Ville by Marc Chagall), and a visual expression of the religious, spiritual transcendence
he seeks.
A visual clue towards a possible interpretation of Tarkovsky’s concept of existential space can
be found in the very similar Solaris’ flight scene: among other objects we see an edition of Don
Quixote, illustrated by Gustave Dore. Authenticity is preferred over rationality and fantasy is subtly
but clearly glorified, through the implications of the presence of the familiar figure of Don Quixote,
as a safer way to deal with reality, over strict analytical positivism.
To sum up, when it comes to Tarkovsky’s depiction of passionate relationships between
individuals (in existential terms, subjects) and objects of desire (either objects of yearning, beloved
persons, time periods or geographic locations) we can observe the following common themes: first,
emotional strength is described as an expressive force, expressive in the poetic( in the literal
meaning of the word, that is creative) sense of developing a sensitivity towards the surrounding
reality, a sensitivity through which a more conscious relationship with outside reality is achieved.
Secondly, Tarkovsky’s perception of existential space and of the way it should be approached by
the individual, according to the narratives in his body of work, appears to be closely related to the
philosophical notion of transcendence and by extension has ecstatic connotations; while keeping
in touch with materiality, at the same time. Finally, the same relationships are dominated by the
shadow of the past, to the extent that even locations belonging to the natural environment are
approached with an intensity that could be characterized as a nostalgic yearning.

5. Towards Transcendence: Tarkovsky’s existential notion of Space.

Tarkovsky’s films describe a reconciliation between the struggling individual and their
surroundings, a desire to rise and fight against oppressive aspects of everyday life, not by escaping
the world of perception but, on the contrary, through the gradual cultivation of a conscious
relationship to otherness. In contrast to a broader theoretical tradition that tends to read
Tarkovsky’s films as pessimistic at heart10, the existential connotations of such a reading indicate
a liberating intention.

traditional theatrical writing which links images through the linear, rigidly logical development of the plot. That sort of fussily correct
way of linking events usually involves arbitrarily forcing them into sequence in obedience to some abstract notion of order. And even
when this is not so, even when the plot is governed by the characters, one finds that the links which hold it together rest on a facile
interpretation of life's complexities.” (Tarkovsky, Sculpting in Time : Reflections on the Cinema, 1987, pp. 18-20)
9
Notably in the original screenplay, published in English in 1991, Yefim attempts to fly in wooden wings, like the mythical Icarus
(Tarkovsky, Andrei Rublev, With an introduction by Philip Strick, 1991, p. 7)
10
Mark Le Fanu reads in Tarkovsky a “contemporary pessimism” (Le Fanu, 1985). Slavoj Zizek’s reaming in The Parallax View moves
along similar lines (Zizek, 2009, p. 85).
Y. Mitsou / Existential themes and motifs in Andrei Tarkovsky’s films: The notions of space and transcendence

Even if in Tarkovsky’s first two films the cause for the heroes’ anxiety is to be found in outside
forces (both Ivan’s Childhood and Andrei Rublev depict the impact of the invasion of a foreign army
on the main characters) a poetic subtext, a need to approach an inner freedom is carefully
associated with their outside condition. In Solaris and Stalker, the same freedom is to be
determined in spatial terms11 as the product of certain locations (Solaris’ Ocean and the Zone,
respectively). Mirror and Nostalghia identify the idealized location, the object of the search, as the
Page | 120
place of birth. In Sacrifice, the same search culminates in a violent, apparently self- destructive act.
And yet Alexander’s sacrifice is not fruitless. The unexpected final image of the lonely tree that
takes life again is to be read quite literally as an optimistic, hopeful resolution.
Taking into consideration these factors, we conclude in four notable aspects, which define the
relation between interiority and Tarkovsky’s notion of space:
1. Interiority for Tarkovsky is closely related to the world of everyday life. Tarkovsky’s
characters always deal with history and the impact that outside forces have on them.
Their tendency towards an intended flight or act of transcendence is not to be
understood as a desire to escape from the present time. On the contrary, it stems from
their need to experience it even further. The undeniable inclination towards the past
expressed through memory (the main theme in Mirror, Nostalghia and Solaris) is to be
understood as part of their existential search, their attempt to redefine reality; a search
that remains creative in nature.
2. Trust in the world of nature and, by extension, an interest in the material world is
constantly reaffirmed. Tarkovsky’s optimism that sometimes appears to be ambiguous,
if not contradictory (the tree that blossoms unexpectedly after the destruction of the
family house in Sacrifice) is actually the product of this trust.
3. Poetry, in all its variations, mostly read as a synonym for a conscious creative attitude
towards life, defines Tarkovsky’s notion of space. The outside world is to be understood
creatively, rather than passively, through a dynamic stance.
4. Freedom from oppressive aspects of life is of the utmost importance: Tarkovsky’s
emphasis on creativity, in order to achieve this freedom, gives rise to a cry for
reconciliation between human experience and human environments.
As already stated, this need for authenticity, freedom and relocation of self is not to be
understood as a strictly spiritual experience, on the contrary it takes place as a procedure on the
human body, on the world of flesh. The revolt of the flesh, described by Camus, combined with
feelings of an often-violent nostalgia define Tarkovsky’s notion of space. Most importantly, as is
often the case in phenomenological traditions, Tarkovsky’s experience of lived space is to be
understood as a sensual experience.

References
Berdyaev, N. (1948). The Russian Idea. New York: The MacMillan Company.
Bergson, H. (2004). Matter and Memory. London: Courier Corporation.
Bird, R. (2008). Elements of Cinema. London: Reaktion Books.
Camus, A. (1942). The Myth of Sisyphus (Penguin Modern Classics) Paperback – International Edition,
November 26, 2013. London: Penguin Classic (November 26, 2013).
Governatori, L. (2002). Andrei Tarkovski: L'art et la pensee. Paris: Editions L'Harmattan.
Johnson, V. T. (1994). Andrei Tarkovsky: a visual fugue. Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University
Press.

11
In Vida T.Johnson and Graham Petrie’s book-length analysis of Tarkovsky’s body of work the importance of visual construction of
areas, as part of the iconography and the thematic concern of the films is noted in detail. (Johnson, 1994). Similarly, Robert Bird gives
priority to the natural environment as an extension the human body, as he structures his book around the use of the four elements of
nature. (Bird, 2008)
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(2): 113-121

Kierkegaard, S. (1983). Fear and Trembling/Repetition : Kierkegaard's Writings, Vol. 6. Princeton: Princeton
University Press; Revised ed. edition (June 1, 1983).
Le Fanu, M. (1985). Bresson, Tarkovsky and Contemporary pessimism. The Cambridge Quaterly, Volume VIV,
Issue 1, pp. 51-57.
Merleau-Ponty, M. (2004). The world of perception. London and New York: Routledge.
Pallasmaa, J. (2008). The Architecture of Image: existential space in cinema. Helsinki: Rakennustieto
Page| 121 Publishing.
Rolli, M. (2004, Fall). Immanence and transcendence. Bulletin de la Societe Americaine de Philosophie de
Langue Francais- Volume 14, Number 2.
Sartre, J.-P. (1965). Situations VII. Paris: Gallimard.
Shestov, L. (1966). Athens and Jerusalem. New York: Behar Sozialistim.
Tarkovsky, A. (1987). Sculpting in Time : Reflections on the Cinema. New York: Alfred A. Knop.
Tarkovsky, A. (1988). Time Within Time: The Diaries 1970-1986. London: Faber and Faber.
Tarkovsky, A. (1991). Andrei Rublev, With an introduction by Philip Strick. London and Boston : Faber and
Faber.
Visy, G. (2005). Film cultes: cultes du film. Paris: Editions Publibook.
Whal, J. (2017). Transcendence and the Concrete: Selected Writings. New York: Fodham University Press.
Zizek, S. (2009). The Parallax View. Massachusetts: MIT Press.

Resume
Ioannis (Yannis) Mitsou is a Film Philosophy Ph.D. holder and Teaching Associate in the Hellenic Open
University, where he teaches Film Narrative in the Creative Writing MA of the Humanities Department. He
was born in Athens in 1991 and graduated from the Philosophy, Pedagogics and Psychology Faculty of the
National University of Athens in 2013. In the academic year 2014-2015 he completed his master’s degree on
the Department of Film Studies (Philosophy Pathway) of the Faculty of Arts and Humanities in King’s College
London. In 2020, he completed (with distinction) his Ph.D. studies in the Philosophy Department of the
National University of Athens. His academic interests include Existentialism, Film Philosophy and Aesthetics.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (122-135), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si076

Justification of panopticon in superhero movies: The

Batman Movie

Azime Cantaş*
Aytekin Can**

Abstract

The French Philosopher Michel Foucault argues that power extends to all areas at the micro
level in Bentham's Panopticon theory, which was inspired by the architectural design of the
Panopticon. He extends this metaphor to speak of Panoptisism as a social phenomenon
used to discipline workforces through implicit strategies. Like Bentham, he does not limit
his panoptic rhetoric to a mere prison setting, but instead applies it to schools, mental
hospitals, hospitals and factories. The panopticon basically ensures the ubiquity of power
by seeing it unseen. This article aims to reveal how panoptiism, a particular mode of
disciplinary power used by Foucault, is normalized in superhero films. When surveillance
and gaze practices are approached from the point of view of cinema; the question of how
the gaze is positioned through the camera, where and through whose eyes the audience is
looking, arises. The narrator of The Batman (2022) is Batman, and the narrative begins with
the superhero reading his diary. In the film, it is determined that Gotham city has been
transformed into a panoptic universe and Batman, who watches over this universe, is in the
position of a guard.

Keywords: panopticon, power, surveillance, space, cinema

1. Introduction
The original idea of the panopticon or panoptical prison was designed at the end of the 18th
century by English social theoretician Jeremy Bentham, as a prison where the guardian could see
all the prisoners, but prisoners could not see themselves. The panoptical structure of Bentham's
prison was designed as a circle of inward-looking cells and one observation tower for the guardian
to watch the prisoners without being watched. In this layout, prisoners could always be watched,
but they could not understand if someone was watching them. When they were exposed to this
kind of observation, they would change their behavior, and their possibility of creating issues would
be lower (Bozovic, 1995). Panopticon provides the benefit of saving time and having fewer
employees for its observers while enabling a continuous and automatically functioning style
(Foucault M., 1992, p. 256). Even though the panopticon had been nothing but a conceptual model
throughout Bentham’s life, Foucault claims that the panoptical model has penetrated society.
Foucault shows that the panopticon had secretly entered the cultural consciousness, was accepted
as a norm, and used as a process for protecting the citizens and working for our gain.
Obviously, the most popular superhero stories revolve around these exact kinds of panoptical
control methods, widening into the society of observation claimed by Foucault. Superhero movies
are drawn as a coherent space where modernist and post-modernist architecture can easily exist
together, also both social and architectural oppositions are embraced by the superhero's panoptical
and controlling viewpoint. Cinema provides an ideal environment for considering the ways of

*(Corresponding author), Ph.D., Afyon Kocatepe University, Türkiye, acantas@aku.edu.tr

**Prof. Dr. Selcuk University, Türkiye, aytekcan@selcuk.edu.tr
Article history: Received 20 September 2022, Accepted 10 December 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

showing what is unseen about a society of observance, which is more and more characterized by
hidden technologies embedded in the texture of urban architecture (Hassler-Forest, 2011). It is
highly possible that cinema can become a partner in crime with the observation system it described
and criticized before. For that reason, this article will focus on The Batman (2022) movie, a
superhero movie that has normalized observation and control issues for public safety. Are today's
superhero figures embodied examples of hegemonic and ideological control? If they are truly
Page| 123
representing ideological discipline forms, which kinds of ideological values are they representing?
This article targets showing observation techniques of modern power, and the effect of public
control and normalizing, based on the example of The Batman (2002) movie.

2. Panopticon and The Power of Eye in Foucauldian Paradigm

The French post-structuralist philosopher M. Foucault, who analyzed the structure and
functioning of modern power, aimed to extract the genealogy of power. Foucault stated that
modern power, by normalizing control with the refined methods it uses, aims to keep not only the
bodies but also the souls of individuals under control; The relationship between power and
knowledge focused on the biopolitics of power and the mechanisms of disciplining/normalizing
control. According to Foucault, power and information have a direct relationship. The power does
not process information by providing naturalized information and making it silent, it makes the
information speak (Akay, 2000, p. 30). Thus, it becomes natural and common. At the beginning of
his book "Discipline & Punish: The Birth of Prison", Foucault tells a graphic execution story from the
18th century. A man named Damiens, who was found guilty of murder "was forced to confess his
crime to the public in front of the Paris Church's main door (...) his arms, hips, thighs would be
pulled with hot pincers; he would hold the knife he used for his father's murder; melted lead, boiled
oil, boiled resin, mixed and melted beeswax, and sulfur would be poured to the areas pulled with
pincers; then his body would be dragged by four horses, burned with fire and his ashes would be
thrown to the wind" (Foucault M., 1992, p. 3). This cruel scene prepares the basis of Foucault's
discourse for the evolution of disciplinary power. The execution itself was made for the benefit of
the audience, as an embodied example of the fast and cruel justice of the power. These public
executions are removed later because prisons were built for keeping the misfits away from society,
and the death penalty was transformed into an action made by the government behind closed
doors, although it was a public show before (Sheridan, 2016, p. 11).
Foucault focuses on power, how it controls and normalizes people (whom Foucault named as
"bodies", after being exposed to the disciplinary mechanism), workforce, and populations for
making them more agreeable, and also panopticism which is a certain modality of power. The
panoptical prison or the original idea of the panopticon was designed by English social theoretician
Jeremy Betham at the end of the 18th century, as a prison where one guardian could observe all
the prisoners, but prisoners could not see themselves. Basically, the panopticon is simply a prison
model. But specifically, it is an architectural form. Lyon explains the meaning of panopticon as the
word "panopticon" means "all seen", and it is derived from Greek "pan" and "optikon" words
(Bauman & Lyon, 2013, p. 19). Thus, the word itself provides the necessary expression by its
meaning. When everything can be seen, the power can amplify its domination, extend its existence
area, and become a result of the worry it holds. Panopticon has existed as a result of a search held
inside by the power but had never been built in the historical process (Mirzoeff, 2009, p. 16).
According to the conditions of this era, the panopticon talks about a new practice of existence
and observation (Foucault, Maniglier & Zabunyan, 2018, p. 71). Basically, panopticon is a system of
seeing without being seen, and the observer is located in the center. As an architectural form, the
panopticon is not only a prison, it is also a circular building that can be used for many different
foundations. The main purpose of this form, which can be used for every type of foundation, is to
hold everyone under observation every time. The panopticon is a social system based on the
possibility that everything can be seen and visualized, and nobody can stay out of the view area of
the power. Bentham designed the panopticon as a prison model, but its purpose has too far gone
A. Cantaş, A. Can / Justification of panopticon in superhero movies: The Batman Movie

from being just that. He envisioned that the panoptical model would be settled into the public
schools, hospitals, mental hospitals, and the army, and it also would be penetrated all layers of
society. Even though the panopticon had been anything but a conceptual model. Foucault claims
that the panoptical form has penetrated society. But it has not been the way Bentham has
expected. Panopticon "should not be perceived as an imagined structure, it is a diagram of a
perfectly shaped power mechanism, which can represent the functioning cleaned from every kind
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of barrier, resistance, and opposition, as a clear architectural and an optical system. In actual state,
it is a political form of technology, which can be, and should be removed from every specific usage.
Even though the panopticon should not necessarily be used the way that Bentham suggested
before, Foucault shows that it has penetrated the cultural consciousness secretly, was accepted as
a norm and a process we use for public safety and working for our gain. Foucault continues
describing the purpose of panopticon as an architectural device that "creates and maintains a
power dynamic regardless of who is operating". Imprisoned bodies are the related organs carrying
the modality of power and projecting the referred modality to themselves at the same time. "Every
human body which can be tied up, used and developed, is a docile body". In the physical panoptical
prison Bentham imagined, a prisoner would never run away from the consistent gaze of the central
observation system, but also could not take his eyes from that. Even though he may never know
that if he is being watched, due to the smartly designed shutters, divisions, and curvy passages of
the observation tower, he will hold the fear of a potential observation and any action of abuse will
be noticed by the observers. Since he was physically and psychologically isolated from other
prisoners, his individuality will be bruised and his tendencies against the norms will be removed.
Thus, his actions against the system will be prevented. Foucault's theory of docile bodies mainly
targets being a method of evaluating and controlling the workforce. It clearly shows that the
domination of bodies is not the same thing as slavery, under the construction of disciplinary power.
His theory is not based on hiring or owning docile bodies without their consent. "Bodies" join a
system in that they have to exchange some of their rights and the right of working, and they accept
this idea. Throughout the centuries, these forms and processes of power are developed in public
schools and mental hospitals. They also are accepted as a solution for a certain necessity, regardless
if it is a method of dealing with a deadly disease or speeding the growth of an army force. In the
historical panoptical model, society has been divided into pieces, and since groups had existed
because of this, a deterrent factor has been created by architectural and psychological control
methods. The purpose of this division is "determining what is existed and what is not, knowing
where individuals should stand, building beneficial communications, and supervising individuals'
behavior every moment". The perfect disciplinary device based on Bentham’s "God's all-seeing
eyes", will be able to see everything with one glance.

3. The Power of Eye and Normalization of the Panopticon

Basically, the panoptical power modality can be perceived as a pyramid. The small and repressed
cell of power holders stand above the wider mass of the workforce and supervise the duties they
gave to the masses, from their higher positions. People's "bodies" is divided into a machine or
limited to a political "force". And this force is maximized with minimum cost for the most beneficial
result. Fundamentally, panoptical power is a hierarchical power structure, and in this system,
everyone is tied up to a person who is above them hierarchically. But the point that the pyramid
metaphor is not entirely mentioned is that nobody stands at the top of the hierarchy in the
panoptical model. Even though the observer stands on the top of the prison system, he will be tied
up to his supervisors within the same hierarchical system, while he also has the exact power in the
prison environment. According to Foucault, the idea of panoptical power is based on self-
observation and imposed on the individual. The idea of glance is the key to the panopticon for both
who stand inside and outside of the observation tower. The gaze of the observer gains superhuman
features, because "the gaze and sound which are not fixed to a certain carrier have the tendency
of gaining exceptional power and creating divine features on their own". The fiction of the all-seeing
eye makes prisoners believe that they may be seen every moment and carries this fiction further
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

away by amplifying it. What makes panoptical and disciplining power so effective is, normalizing
people's judgment. Everything under this structure will be standardized, and after the related
organs took office, they will accept the disciplinary punishments as norms. Being monotype will
cause more obedience and they will become more compatible with the worrying nature of the
disciplinary model. It has created by both divisions on living and working spaces with obvious
physical methods and occupying people's minds with tough and specified duties causing brain fog.
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While the first models of disciplinary power were using vengeance and death threats for making
people obedient, later models adopted more improving and correcting ideals. Foucault highlights
that purpose of prison is not to be a disincentive for committing crimes. According to him, prison
does not provide a considerable amount of lessening in crime rates. The threat of imprisonment
and physical punishment means very little things if people have no choice other than to commit
crimes. For this reason, both Bentham and Foucault presented prison models as social reform
strategies.
People who feel "the violence of the eye", control themselves automatically. Thus, no laws or
illegal actions come to the surface. Oppositely, people correct themselves before anything -can be
considered "dangerous"- happens. In a place that has no laws, being illegal becomes meaningless.
Foucault describes this society of norms as "Fundamentally, we are becoming a society based on
norms. This society requires a very different supervision and control system. Never-ending visibility,
continuous classification of individuals, becoming hierarchical, qualification, creating boundaries,
and diagnosing. Norm becomes a measurement for dividing and separating people" (Foucault M.,
2012, p. 77-78). In one form, a norm is an internalized or accepted law. An individual does not break
the rules created by law, or the entity of power by behaving according to the norm. Naturally, the
internalization of the panoptical viewpoint creates the norm. The feeling of being seen every
moment, causes people to give in and surrender to the power of the gaze. Thus, a society of norms
comes into existence, in which law is fully internalized and the norm itself becomes a device of
"normalizing". Everyone stayed outside of the norm or internalized viewpoint is becoming
abnormal and entering the area of punishment. Punishment is a result of the period belonging to
the law. Norm, on the other hand, is a space where the punishment becomes meaningless and
everyone is "normalized". The power of gaze caught by the eye, makes itself exist in an almost exact
manner with panopticon. The essence of the panopticon, reforms the potential of people, not by
the laws but by the norms.
According to Foucault, the panopticon has a triangular structure: Observation, supervision, and
reformation. Observed and supervised masses are tried to be reformed or actually reformed as a
result. These phenomena show that people are living in a society ruled by panopticism. If every
individual becomes both an observer and an object for observation, everyone suspects each other.
This situation causes societal opposition and provides help for the power to maintain itself. The
transformation of society into an object of desire highlights the beginning of a sadomasochist
relationship. Society gets pleasure from suffering, and also pleasures the power.
Under the observation of power, society internalizes being watched in the common
consciousness, becomes more and more exhibitionist, and gets pleasure from being watched.
Observation is an activity that contains sexuality, so it is a form of voyeurism. Even though observers
have no sexual desire for their counterparts, they experience the pleasure of voyeurism. The object
of observation becomes eroticized and even gets pornographic. "In observation, especially in the
viewpoint of observers, there is something that cannot be alienated from the pleasure of
voyeurism". (Foucault M., 2012, p. 109). On the other hand, when society gets pleasure from being
observed, and even desires this without the request of power (exhibitionism), it shows how society
surrendered to the power. "Panopticon forcefully puts people in a position they can be watched.
Synopticon does not need pressure, it seduces people to watch" (Bauman, 1999. p. 62). Society
becomes negatively feminized and transforms into a submissive object operating accordingly to the
direction of the master. The tendency of exhibitionism and its erotical pleasure "shows the need
for the counterpart's phantasmic view guaranteeing the existence of the subject: 'I only exist if I'm
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being watched... Here stands the tragicomic reversal of a Bentham-like and Orwellian panoptical
society notion, which we all are being watched and have nowhere to run" (Zizek, 2006, p. 288).
The increase of technological developments, especially after 1980 -like computers and the
internet being more common- changed the soul, structure, and methods of observation. This
situation shows that a new form of observation -fluid observation- has come into existence
(Bauman & Lyon, 2013). With this new invention of capitalism, micro-physics, and normalizing Page | 126
practices of power left their places to super-panopticons. GPS devices, mobile phones, surveillance
cameras placed everywhere, listening devices, online shopping, and social media sites we use in
modern society, became inseparable technologies of the super panopticon model (Öztürk 2013, p.
138). Further from observation, data banks are created for every single individual. These data banks
are bought by corporations, and people are encouraged to consume more as potential consumers
in modern society. Although the threat of being observed still exists, the modern panopticon is not
based on an observation tower or a similar power structure.
In many situations, the purpose is to let individuals who live in the panoptic system forget that
they are being under observation. Surveillance cameras became found in every population center,
but these cameras were mostly mistaken for other cameras and became unseen. CCTV cameras are
designed for being unseen purposely, and the general population is conditioned not to notice them.
Every individual is aware of being watched at a certain level, but due to this unnoticeable camera
design, it is easy to forget about cameras and release the idea of observation. Since the subjects
don't feel the panoptical gaze on them anymore, they will most likely not respond the same way as
the subjects of the traditional panopticon. Because their price for not committing to the norm is
lower. The gaze of the all-seeing eye can prevent criminal behavior and encourage public safety but
does this despite the price of personal freedom. The spread of CCTV and society's increasing
addiction to computer data caused a system that anyone who has the searching tools can access a
certain amount of personal data.
Modern technology takes the power away (which is a key to the panoptical controlling model),
and requires its scope to be redefined and extended. In his "Postscript of Control Societies", Gilles
Deleuze discusses the timely specification of "disciplinary societies". Deleuze describes this new era
as "a crisis of foundations", from public schools to barracks, barracks to factories. In disciplinary
societies, individuals always start something new, but nobody has the mindset of finishing anything.
Everything like a corporation, educational system, and army service are like metastasis points
together within the same unique modulation, similar to a universal deformation system.
Disciplinary societies have two poles: "signature" indicates the individual, and numbers indicate the
individual's position in the population. It means that, as an operator of power, it builds a body-like
structure and categorizes every member's individuality. But in supervision societies, a code is more
important than a signature and number. Code is a "password". The mathematical language of the
supervision is based on codes that can confirm or deny access to the information. While individuals
become separated, masses become examples, data, markets, or "banks" (Deleuze, 1990). According
to Foucault's pre-digital model, "individuals never give up on passing one to other closed
environments each have their own rules", and that makes the behavior conditioned. Just like
physical locations, foundations -family, school, prison, and factories- are different from each other
too. This changes Deleuze's computer-supported societies of control, old, and temporary "closed
areas" with the new "web" that can make the supervision "continuous and limitless". Thus, a meta-
panopticon continuously describes itself as a waving side web of panopticons, taking the place of
Foucault's separate panopticons.

4. Justification of Panoptical Universe in Superhero Movies

The relationship between camera and eyes is a topic many philosophers mentioned about. Sort
of seduction of eye and observation and how they have gained importance as a fantasy item in the
modern era, caused the cinema/media to take the function of collective voyeurism. Modern society
crossed the boundaries of human privacy and created mediatic realities like a kind of Truman Show.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

This tendency has increased with social media, and people started to exhibit their whole lives on
the public scene. Social media became a societal satisfaction mechanism for the people who try to
catch the moment and gain visibility via the comments below. Observation causes being included,
being included causes identification, by repressing a sort of insufficiency. Observation has been the
subject of many movies. Mainly 1984, an adaptation of George Orwell's 1984 novel, made by
Michael Radford, and Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times are the movies indicating the state of the
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individual from the viewpoint of power and power operators. Truman Show (1998) includes
valuable criticism about media and how it ruined human life based on a collective voyeurism case.
On the other hand, Eagle Eye (2008) shows a hypothetical world of technological voyeurism and
how computers or machines try to take over the world. In Enemy of the State, people and cars are
being watched via satellites. In Silver (1993), the concept of voyeurism passes through sexual
pleasure. In Minority Report (2002) Steven Spielberg highlights the fluid observation and how the
power of gaze becomes fluid and takes over everywhere. We can say that, as long as technology
develops, the count of these movies will increase, and with the future development of artificial
intelligence, it will not only be a potential danger but a real threat.
In cinema, the panopticon is closely related to the director's ideology and his message. While
the panoptical universe is open to discussion in modern cinema, the panopticon is hidden in
mainstream movies. The superhero movies which include the identification and catharsis most
commonly in classical cinema, have an abundance of normalizing items of the panoptical universe
and observation of power. In the context of their imagined world and storytelling tradition,
Superhero movies are embodied versions of discipline and control values with their examples of
power operators (Superman) fighting against crime with costumes (Spiderman, Batman). The
superhero represents a certain form of power focused on his observation skills. Superman uses his
super-hearing and X-ray vision. Batman sits on skyscrapers like a technologically sophisticated ugly
creature, and Spiderman warns about the crime nearby, relying on his "spider instinct" (Stanley,
2019, p. 92). This "panoramic and panoptical gaze" for reducing criminal behavior, includes the facts
of Bentham's panopticon accepted as a simultaneous image of Foucault's hidden societal
supervision towards individuals. As long as the political rhetoric and public discussions focus on the
issues related to observation after September 11th, panopticon Foucault's "society of prison" had
resurfaced as a dominant theoretical paradigm in contemporary discourse (Hassler – Forest, 2011,
p. 156 – 57).
The function of popular culture in justification of panoptical observation as a natural and
necessary part of contemporary public life relies on both panopticon and synopticon. Watching the
majority on public communication narratives that the majority watches minority, takes a dramatic
form. Hollywood superheroes have a similar function. Most of them can easily be perceived as
considering the public worries about patriarchy and criminalization in a non-centered postmodern
world including its new enemies, the logic of late capitalism, and the state of market. In the 1930s,
with the development of the 20th-century style of geometrical glass and concrete buildings, and
the evolution of architectural design removing all the remains of the 19th-century bourgeoisie, the
superhero figure existed as a vital item of American popular culture.
The modernist passion for transforming the chaos of 19-century urbanization into a multi-
functioning transparent environment gave an architectural shape to the desire of controlling the
urban space. Glamorous skyscrapers built between the 1920s and '30s in Manhattan and Chicago
have embodied a heroic modernist search for power with order, transparency, and visibility. As a
permanent symbol of this modernist urban view and its utopic desires, superhero figures became
the easiest pop-culture figures that could be related to the power and control forms referred by
the international school of architecture (Hassler-Forest, 2011, p. 179). Two superhero archetypes
of the golden age of comic books, Batman and Superman pound a beat for the safety of citizens but
are never mentioned as citizens of the city they protected. Both Batman's place in Wayne Mansion
and Superman's tower of solitude, makes us think about a strong relation to the
A. Cantaş, A. Can / Justification of panopticon in superhero movies: The Batman Movie

traditional old aristocracy and its pre-modern patriarchal power forms. These superhero
archetypes and their followers, do not only represent the fantasy of overcoming the obvious
limitations of the human body in the physically and mentally dominant vertical view of the modern
metropolis, but also can be perceived as actual organizations of modernist yearnings in the context
of popular culture.
While Batman Starting clearly showed off the desire of rebuilding venture capitalism against Page | 128
the global terror threat, The Dark Knight talks about how this force should be used and maintained,
and how these kinds of applications can be operated strongly, in a more detailed manner.
Christopher Nolan’s second Batman movie highlights the topics of observation and amplifies the
gaze mentioned at a few levels. This can be seen in the helicopter shooting of the beautiful
panoramic view of Gotham City center. In one of the most discussed scenes, Bruce Wayne explains
to Lucius Fox that he changed the technology of the "sonar mobile phone", for creating a device for
listening to all mobile phones in Gotham City. Batman explains that he did this for finding Joker. But
Lucius Fox expresses his inconvenience as "observing 30 million people is not included in my job
description". This observation technology passes through listening to phone conversations: screens
of observation devices make it possible to view all of the city. This sequence of screens looks like
the CCTV surveillance camera walls of shopping centers, office buildings, and other public or private
areas of the metropolis. The inclusion of this viewing technology in the characterized costume
transforms Batman into some kind of cyborg. He even claims that if necessary, the technologically
developed superhero is actually free to break laws. But Nolan takes an important action here and
removes the thread between the character and the viewer, when Batman's costume became united
with higher technology of observation, as an effective device of panoptic amplification. Batman
closes his eyes shortly after operating the observation technology. Nolan prevents effective eye
contact by revealing the actor's mouth and chin only. For the viewer, that makes it harder to identify
with the actor, compared to classical cinema.
Another superhero movie in which the main character wears a face veiling costume is Iron
Man. Iron Man visualizes how similar technology can be included without sacrificing the relatability
of the character. Billionaire playboy Tony Stark wears the costume transforming him into a super-
powered cyborg Iron Man. The movie locates the close-ups revealing the character's face and
operates a complex graphic user interface before. When Tony Stark's voice and eye control operate
the costume's interface, we can understand how advanced technology and its perfectly natural
operation can represent a popular post-modern fantasy. The movie revolves around Stark's close-
ups with dynamic GUI items, Iron Man costume's moving exterior shootings, and the viewpoint of
the character. These POV shootings apply from data visualizations made by his team's computer
system, to photographic views supported with computer information. In a great action scene, Iron
Man goes to an Afghan village. When he saw the terrorists taking hostage of innocent villagers, the
computer system of his costume separates the guilty and innocent and helps him to target the ones
who deserved to be killed. Both Iron Man and Batman are the archetypes of the fantasy figure in
the real world. Both of them have the high technology of monitoring for supporting their bodies.
As fantasy archetypes and even role models, their usage of the monitoring technology on
their bodies is a symbol of the panoptical/synoptical double reasoning after September 11th
(Stanley, 2019, p. 16). Superhero figures defend their usage of panoptical and controlling
observation techniques, knowing that everything they did will be justified at the end of the story.
Regardless of their natural or artificial panoptic skills like the X-ray visions of Superman, the "spider
instinct" of Spiderman, and Daredevil's extreme hearing, or Batman and Iron Man's cyborg-like
body transformation, the narrative of the patriarchal power figures use their skills for the benefit
of society, helps people to accept them.
The issue of visibility stands at the center of the superhero story. Traditional superhero
characters separate themselves from norms by wearing costumes and cause people to notice them
and show them to each other. By that means, the metaphor of superhero is a method tor
dramatizing a desire of having a more performative identity and spreading oneself from the crowd,
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

in a culture of post-modernity describing itself by the subject's death. Despite this, most
mainstream superheroes fluctuate between the flamboyant performatives of their costumed
personality and the anonymity of the normative contemporary identity. Regardless of their
transformation of voluntarily costume change (Batman, Superman, Spiderman) or unpreventable
body change (like The Incredible Hulk and The Human Torch), the character identity stays on the
basis.
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5. Panoptical Universe of The Batman Movie
As a superhero, Batman is a "fluid indicator" of different art branches and media environments.
Today Batman can't be evaluated as its current description. At that point, too many different
Batman typologies can be mentioned: 1940s cruel Batman of comic books, 1940s amateur and
overly nationalist Batman of movie series, 1960s wacky Batman on television, 1980s postmodern
Batman of mini TV series based on comic books. But Cristopher Nolan and Tim Burton are the ones
who gave Batman cinematographic excellence. After these director's movies, Batman became a DC
Comics brand. Another meaning also came to the surface about the Batman movies shot by multiple
directors. This situation happened as a result of applying different scientifical approaches to
popular culture and mass communication due to the flexibility of the character. Popular superhero
movies can be fun mainstream movies and can be transformed into political devices at the same
time. Batman movies should be evaluated in this context. The Batman (2022) movie -the subject of
this article that will be analyzed with a Foucauldian approach- is directed by Matt Reeves, and the
main character Bruce Wayne/Batman is played by Robert Pattinson. The Batman is about Batman's
confrontation with Riddler, a serial killer, while he was researching the corruption of Gotham City
in his second year.
In the movie, we see Gotham City as a wide panoptical space where the mafia is in power,
and too many crimes are committed. Gotham City is also the secret main character of the movie
observed from different personalities and feelings. What makes Batman a hero is a fact that
Gotham City is a dark and hopeless abyss of crime. But Gotham also has a different soul fighting for
justice, which seems too far away. The biggest theme of the movie is Bruce Wayne's transformation
into Batman, the hero we know, by this soul. Some characters' stories revolve around their
interaction with the city they live in. Batman cannot exist without Gotham. Gotham City is
represented like a living character with its brilliant and also horrifying architecture, mystery, and
tension due to the possibility of everything would happen. In The Batman's Gotham, a metropolis
corrupted by illegal actions and desperation is indicated. Giant metropolis skyscrapers embody the
modernist search by order, transparency, and visibility. As a permanent symbol of this modernist
urban view and its utopic desires, Batman is the easiest pop-culture figure that could be related to
the power and control forms referred by the international school of architecture. Batman does not
only represent the fantasy of overcoming the obvious limitations of the human body in the
physically and mentally dominant vertical view of the modern metropolis but can also be perceived
as an actual organization of modernist yearnings in the context of popular culture. Gotham City is
highlighted as a visible therefore controllable area, by not only countless panoramic shootings but
also shootings that can frame the city as a visible area from citizens' viewpoint. The first scene
Riddler observes the mayor Don Mitchell through a wide window, and the scenes that Batman
observes the catwoman exhibits visibility and transparency. When Don Mitchell is in power, he is
also collaborating with the mafia, and Gotham is a very unsafe place. People have no trust in
anyone. At that point, the bat man who came from the skies decides to serve justice. At the end of
the movie, the mayor/presidential candidate says "Not only the city, we will reconstruct people's
faith to our foundations, also each other. We will make people trust Gotham City again. Cinema, as
a part of mass communication devices, is related to the indicators pointing to the scaffold of the
modern world and complex power dynamics. It is possible to rely on Foucault's analysis for
explaining how the movie entered power dynamics with the viewer and general society. Power
dynamics are the methods for applying power between individuals and groups of people.
Throughout history, power dynamics are built vertically, from the top to the bottom.
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Figure 1 Gotham City

The power is possessed by the king, towards the people. Today, the power dynamics are applied
from top to the bottom, but by a cruel big brother-like dictator who uses his power against passive
people. But the power is not a monopolized, own name, it's a reciprocal active verb. Foucault takes
the theory further away from monopolization and expresses power dynamics as complicated
notions spread everywhere and intertwined together with the depths of society. But that doesn't
mean that the relationships are equal. The ones who hold the highest fund are in power, and this
gives them the delusion of only they can apply power.
The scene Riddler watches the presidential candidate, highlights the active power of the viewer,
and calls them for questioning their position. This active participation is parallel with Discipline &
Punishment's spectacle of the scaffold. The main point of the ritual is, "a ceremony of justice
expressed full force". The requirement of the audience in the spectacle of the scaffold is highlighted
more by Ferman and how he encouraged the audience to throw dirt and stuff in 1374, and this
simply extends the functionality of the audience. Therefore, if the audience only participates in the
activity of viewing, it is an indicator of the audience has accepted the king's right of domination.
The submissive audience stands without moving. Being a viewer means being released from the
ability to know and the power of action. In the movie, the installation locates the viewer and also
makes the subject dependent on its object. According to this, the viewers should play the traditional
role given to them, from a point determined for them. In the first scene of The Batman movie, we
see that the shocked criminals (theft, fire-raising, attack) are exposed to the spotlight by the police
helicopter. At that moment they see the bat signal and become possessed by a pathetic fear. A
superhero is needed for preventing criminals from committing crimes. The momentary seedling of
justice, the sense of justice, or the fear of a criminal, builds an unconscious narrative of everything
being fine in the world. While the criminals are running away from the superhero, service of justice
becomes possible. The story can also justify societal suffering. Structural failures like the police
being more and more criticized can be justified by a movie or give a wrong sense of justification.
In the first monologue of Batman, while thinking about the nature of criminals, between the
crowd dirty masks are shown. "The real danger is in the chaos. Like a snake, I'm waiting for
attacking. But I'm there watching too... If I'm needed we have a sign now". The movie draws the
criminals as deadly threats not only to Batman but also to society itself. As a superhero, it is mostly
his responsibility to prevent criminals from ruining societal justice. Batman expresses the
"vengeance" of justice but doesn't kill the criminals. The superficial reason is, that Batman is
righteous. Batman's exhibition of power and killing criminals is postponed. "Here's a big city. I can't
be everywhere". He perceives the non-effectiveness of visible violence as an indicator of power,
and the bat cannot punch every criminal. Thus, he should find more effective ways for dealing with
the crime.
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Figure 2 Thieves see the Batman sign

After the police helicopter flew and showed the Batman signal in the sky, Batman describes his
symbol: "But when this light reflects on the sky, it's not just a calling, it's a warning! For them. Fear
is a tool. They think I'm hiding in the shadows, but I am the shadow". The bat signal is the guardian
tower of the panopticon. Therefore, the panopticon is an intangible method of perfect power
dynamics that isolated, systemized, and supervised individuals, and created an internalized thought
pattern for making people docile and "normal". In the panopticon, the bodies are not the "things"
that should be punished, oppositely they are the "things" that should be controlled and made more
productive by the government and employer. In this process, the hidden state of the observer is
very important for maintaining control. The basic factor that builds the power is the seer, the
observer is not being seen. It already built its power by this hidden state. People inside the
panopticon "...are masses, but not a community from the viewpoint of the observer. But from their
viewpoint, they are lonely and isolated individuals" (Bentham & vd., 2012 p. 16). Their isolaton
makes them lonely and helpless. But at the same time, they can't be alone due to being exposed to
the other's observation. In time, the gaze itself should be internalized by individuals. No matter if
people prefer this or not, the power of the gaze, creates change for them.
The feeling of being watched all the time affects people. Foucault describes this as "An observing
gaze, and people who feel the burden of this, internalize the gaze too much that they finally come
to the point of observing themselves. Thus, everyone will operate this observation on themselves.
Perfect formula: Continuous power and a ridiculous price!" (Foucault M., 2012, p. 95). People who
have to live with the feeling of being watched, get used to living with the gaze of the power. This
situation is described as "prevention effort". Thus, the issues described as wrong by the power are
trying to be solved before the problem.
In the opening scene of Batman, a police officer sitting in front of an urban mansion's closed
garage is shown, via a binocle lens. While the voyeurist heavily breathing and focusing on a child
inside the mansion playing with his father, sirens are ringing. After focusing on a terrace window
that later will be used, he observes the lonely father while he is watching the news about the
mayorship and the competition between himself and hopeful Bella Real. The disappointed father
asks his partner why surveys are showing equal results with him and Real on the phone, and mildly
refers to the political manipulation. Then the voyeurist appears behind the father with a dark
leather mask with only eyeholes. After the father turns off the TV, the voyeurist angrily attacks him
with a metal carpet tool, and while shaking his motionless body to both sides, hits his head. The
camera focuses on the voyeurist's black leather boots, while he is heavily breathing and walking to
take his murder weapon. In close-up, he relocates the body and pleasures himself by robbing a duct
tape roll to reverse direction.
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Figure 3 Riddler watching the Presidential candidate's house

This scene pictures the man with a mask as a villain irreversibly. Long scenes of killing seemingly
innocent people, sexualized breathing, sadist hints, being violent, and generally horrifying to
innocent people, prevent viewers to relate Riddler. But even though he is less aggressive, Batman
exhibits the same behavior. He watches Selina (catwoman) while she is taking her clothes off. Only
his eyes are being seen. These continuous close-ups make him human. In the last scenes, while
Batman was laying motionless, someone from Riddler's team tries to kill him. Selina deactivates
him for saving Batman. In these scenes, Batman is increasingly portrayed as a human instead of a
superpower. On the other hand, the close-ups of Riddler's shoes while walking to the murder
weapon, are for causing tension for the viewer. A non-diegetic sound accompanies Riddler's walk.
While Batman is approaching the attackers who painted their faces, he slowly walks to the
penguin's ruined car. The heroic sense viewer is experiencing has different formal features.
Vengeance for a loser mafia boss creates a victorious feeling for the viewer. The viewer who can
identify with Batman's orders, experiences repulsion by the sadism of Riddler. Nietzsche says that
civilization and depth of the human soul are based on instinct: "hostility, cruelty, gaining pleasure
from torturing attacking, changing and destructing". Repression of the “instincts” is the creation of
natural instincts, shame, bad conscience, and the moral itself. Nietzsche pictures both sides of the
punishment: "resistant" and "fluid". The permanent direction is the practice itself, the act of
punishment. The fluid direction is the narrative built around it (Nietzsche, 2013, p. 95-97). The
societal contract of enlightenment, Kant's vengeance, Beccari's distinctiveness, Bentham's
pragmatism, etc. change accordingly to the structure of power/knowledge. That's why they can't
be based on the fluid direction of punishment practice. It's an abstraction.

Figure 4 Batman watching Catwoman

 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

Nietzsche says that the permanent direction and the action itself are the free expressions of our
repressed instincts. In other words, our dominant nature is repressed by morals. But with
dominance applied to the guilty, our consciences do not repress our nature. That's why Riddler's
sadism on dominance is really repulsive. Because it is a morally repressed part of our nature. On
the other hand, Batman's sadistic justice is very euphoric, because it shows the repressed nature
as morally acceptable. But Batman can't be killed, because it is not seen as morally acceptable and
Page| 133
makes pleasure unacceptable. Thus, about the character on the screen, the viewer's will is satisfied,
so they can reach the katharsis. The viewer actively participates in the sadism of the movie and
spreads their desires to two poles. The negative pole happens to be Riddler, and the positive one is
Batman. Therefore, with Batman as an active extension of the system, in our subconscious, a
narrative is created that the system is full and doesn't need a real change. The system of
punishment is extended by more effective methods for a more clear division of collecting
information, mass observation, and population. At the center of the punishment system, a change
occurs from the body to the mind and subconscious. The punishment system impacts the minds of
all citizens and tries to dissuade future crimes.
This is more effective than mixing the emperor's vertical threat and the lower class's violence in
the spectacle of scaffolding as viewers. That's why the approval of more "humanly" punishment is
caused by changes in information. This also means a change in power and ascension of the
bourgeoisie not to the "humanity", and "compassion", but a higher level of productivity further
away from the spectacle. Carmine Falcone, while playing billiard, talks about his 1.183 dollars fancy
sweater and says "Do you know why communism has failed?" and then responds to his own
question: "belt-tightening". This shows the real villain of the movie, the corruption of Gotham City.
He makes his victory known against the system he flamboyantly sticks to, and never had any regrets.
Falcone centralized the power and fund. This made Gotham City a more corrupt place: "Falcone is
the mayor for twenty years". The problem with this, it stops the growth and change of the system.
Therefore, Batman's biggest enemy is not the villain, but unproductivity. Batman is generally a
super extension for the system. He comes from the bourgeoisie, beats small criminals, fights with
villains, and more unproductivity. Batman works with the police to both be the violent hand of
justice and create the world's biggest reality. At the end of the movie, Batman may seem like he is
trying to leave the spectacle as the vengeance mechanism of power. He tries to be a symbol of
hope, by leaving the call of "vengeance". "But crime never stops". Marauding and illegality will
continue in the less reachable areas of the city. Even now, I can see clearly that things become
worse before getting better. Some people will use this opportunity for getting what they want. Now
I understand, and I created a difference, but nothing happened the way I wanted to. Vengeance
won't change anything. I should be more. People need hope and someone to hold their back..." In
the last scenes of the movie, he makes desperate people pass into the water with lanterns. That
doesn't mean that Batman can't be violent. He is the symbol of hope, but he also makes justice to
be served and spreads the desire for power. Bella Real will be the mayor of change. Bella Real is
also an exceptional black character in this movie. "Cosmetic diversity focuses on giving chances
individuals from ineffectively represented groups. It lowers the possibility of challenging the rules,
and justifies the system". This can be considered as taking back the charges Americanpoliticians
made to black people by exaggerating drug issues between the 1970s and 1900s. The maintenance
of Real and Bruce Wayne partnership is also a "history of charity", which has been seen as a saving
factor for the city. Because of Renewal's failure and Bruce's obvious nonchalance, Gotham has
become the way it is. In other words, the only salvation of the system is provided by rich people
who can give small pieces for solving problems. The media highlights the cocaine and charity-free
issues instead of economical inequality, racism, foundational power and collective imprisoning by
financing this movie. The biggest project of the movie is sedation. The desire for justice will be fed
by Batman's punches. The desire for repressed power is pictured by Riddler and fed morally by
Batman. The desire for change is sedated by Bella Real's black exceptionalism and the false hope of
Batman's help for civil.
A. Cantaş, A. Can / Justification of panopticon in superhero movies: The Batman Movie

6. Results
Sociological evaluations of cinema are important data sources of both societal reality and the
notion of power built in the context of philosophy and ideology. It highlights too many contexts
from political expansions to international relations, and also power dynamics. While doing this, it
mostly serves the power, even though it has the potential of doing the opposite. The camera shows
a preferred sequence. The camera focuses on some concepts and people and blurs the background. Page | 134
It shows what we are supposed to see. That's why the cinema has too many effects further from
entertaining people, like gorming pleasures and desires ideologically. Even though a movie is not
intended to be a representation of real events, it can take place of the reality. In this article, we
clearly see that The Batman movie sedated viewers' political desires and honoured more primitive
desires possessively. By classical story techniques, the movie has created a society of fear and
increased the need of being observed for safety. The justification form which can be seen in the
movie is a result of the synopticon mechanism operating with the panopticon. A part of this effect
lies in the existence of Barman's extremely visible existence. Thus, while Batman relates
transparency and visibility with notions like order, justice, and heroism, the non-existence of
visibility is related to chaos, crime, and terror.

References
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Bauman, Z., & Lyon, D. (2013). Akışkan Gözetim. (E. Yılmaz, Çev.) İstanbul: Ayrıntı Yayınları.
Bentham, J., & vd. (2016). Panoptikon: Gözün İktidarı. (B. Çoban, Z. Özarslan, Dü, B. Çoban, & Z. Özarslan ,
Çev.) İstanbul: Su.
Božoviĉ, M. (1995). Jeremy Bentham: The Panopticon Writings. London: Verso.
Cardozo, E. (2017). Panoptic Pranksters: Power, Space and Visibility in the Information Panopticon in Scare
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Çoban, B. (2016). “Gözün İktidarı” Üzerine. B. Çoban, & Z. Özarslan (Dü) içinde, Panoptikon: Gözün İktidarı (B.
Çoban, & Z. Özarslan , Çev., s. 111- 138). İstanbul: Su.
Deleuze, G. (1990, May). “Postscript on the Society of Control”. L'Autre journal, 3(1), 3-7.
Dunford, L. ( 2022, July 16). https://brightlightsfilm.com/. September 1, 2022, tarihinde Bright Lights Film
Journal: https://brightlightsfilm.com/the-batman-the-grand-appeaser-repressive-desublimation-
foucault-and-false-hope/#.YyUH2XZBxPZ adresinden alındı
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Foucault, M. (2011). Büyük Kapatılma. (I. Ergüden, & F. Keskin, Çev.) İstanbul: Ayrıntı Yayınları.
Foucault, M. (2012). İktidarın Gözü. (I. Ergüden, Çev.) İstanbul: Ayrıntı Yayınları.
Foucault, M., Maniglier, P., & Zabunyan, D. (2018). Foucault at the Movies. C. O’Farrell (Dü.) içinde, Foucault
at the Movies (C. O’Farrell, Çev.). New York: Columbia University Press.
Gehring, P. (2017, August). The Inverted Eye. Panopticon and Panopticism, Revisited. Foucault Studies (23),
46-62. doi:http://dx.doi.org/10.22439/fs.v0i0.5341
Hassler- Forest, D. (2011). Superheroes and the Bush doctrine: narrative and politics in post-9/11 discourse.
Eigen Beheer.
Lyon, D. (2006). Gözetlenen Toplum Günlük Hayatı Kontrol Etmek. (G. Soykan, Çev.) İstanbul: Kalkadeon.
Mirzoeff, N. (2009). An Introduction to Visual Culture. New York: Routledge.
Mitchell, T. (1988). Colonizing Egypt. Cambridge: Cambridge UP.
Nietzsche, F. (2013). Ahlakın Soykütüğü Üstüne. (A. İnam, Çev.) İstanbul: Say Yayınları.
Öztürk, S. (2013). Filmlerle Görünürlüğün Dönüşümü: Panoptikon, Süperpanoptikon, Sinoptikon. İletişim
Kuram ve Araştırma Dergisi(36), 132 - 151.
Sheridan, C. (2016). "Foucault, Power and the Modern Panopticon" Senior Theses. Trinity College Digital
Repository: Trinity College Digital Repository, https://digitalrepository.trincoll.edu/theses/548
adresinden alındı
Stanley, D. (2019). The Dissolving Panopticon: Surveillance Culture and Liquid Modernity in Spider-Man
Media. Panic at the Discourse: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 1(1), 91-104.
Zizek, S. (2006). Zizek, S. (2006). Biri Totalitarizm mi Dedi. Ankara: Epos Yayınları, 288. Ankara: Epos Yayınları.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 122-135

Resume
Dr. Azime Cantaş graduated from Selçuk University, Faculty of Arts and Sciences, Department of Art History
in 2007. She then completed her undergraduate and graduate programs in the Faculty of Communication,
Radio, Television and Cinema. She completed her doctoral program with her thesis titled "Minor Projections
in Turkish Cinema" at Selcuk University, Institute of Social Sciences, Radio, Television and Cinema Department.
Page| 135 While she was a student, she participated in various national and international film festivals with her work on
the documentary “Hürriyet Mimarı” and the short film “Guernica”, which she directed. She works as an
academician at Afyon Kocatepe University, Faculty of Fine Arts, Cinema and Television Department.
Dr. Aytekin Can was born in Eskişehir in 1965. Graduated from Marmara University, Faculty of
Communication, Department of Radio-Television and Cinema. She completed her master's degree in the field
of Cinema and Television at Anadolu University, Faculty of Communication Sciences. He completed his doctoral
studies at Marmara University, Department of Cinema and Television. Head of Department of Radio,
Television and Cinema, Faculty of Communication, Selcuk University. He is the author of chapters in his books
Children and Cartoons, Short-Films, as well as Writings on Documentary Film and Cinema Illuminating History.
He has acted as a production-management consultant for many award-winning documentaries and short
films. He has been the director of the Kısa-ca International Student Film Festival for nineteen years. He is the
founder and consultant of Selçuk University Kısa-ca Film Atölyesi, which has many national and international
successes. With the support of the General Directorate of Cinema, he undertook the production and
management of the documentary films Visitor Gertrude Bell from Oxford and Old Konya Cinemas.
 Research Article
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
“
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (136-159), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si077

‘Is it me, or is it getting crazier out there?’: The psyche of the

interior in Joker: An analysis of psychological space in Todd
Phillips Joker (2019) through collage

Clíona Brady*
Gul Kacmaz Erk**

Abstract

Encounters with interior spaces are influenced by past experiences and state of mind. Much
of how architecture is experienced therefore is not readily apparent and is sensed rather
than seen. Psyche impacts this experience of lived space, from an individual’s awareness of
themselves within it, to the perception of space itself. Film offers a distinctive
representation of this subjective experience through its narrative form and command of
visual, audio and temporal language. The emotive and visceral power of film render it an
accessible and immersive medium, and as such make it uniquely placed to communicate
less tangible qualities of space and character. This paper analyses the use of interior space
in the film Joker (Todd Phillips, 2019). The acutely intimate discernment of the protagonist’s
interior environment is the result of environmental and psychological disruption, where
boundaries break down between the real and imaginary, and the surreal intrudes upon the
tangible depiction of the interior. The exposition of the character’s damaged psyche within
space is analysed at key points within the narrative, using collage as an exploratory, visual
methodology to analyse and experiment with, to potentially reveal the less perceivable, yet
invasive intangible layers of lived space. This article addresses the frequent oversight of
psychological qualities of the interior in architectural discourse, through an analytical and
experimental method rendering the psychological content of space visible. Defining this
intangible nature of architecture as the psychosphere (or the psychological atmosphere), I
term this technique the ‘psychospheric collage method’. The process consists of
interrogating expressive film language and content through an architectural lens
documented through sketching, storyboarding and textual enquiry. From these fragmented
components I compose a new visual language capable of signifying the layered
psychological atmosphere in which a character resides, thus facilitating its consideration
within architectural design and enabling articulation of our intimate encounter with the
interior.

Keywords: collage, film, interior, lived space, psyche.

1. Introduction
It was not accidental that the language of the movies, especially the expressive qualities
of the image, developed in tandem with the psychoanalytical concept of the unconscious,
where subjectivity involves what is elusive, shadowy, unfocused.
Amy Taubin (2012, p. 10).
Architecture’s traditional role of imposing order takes on different meanings with
different diseases.
Beatriz Colomina (2019, p. 19).

*(Corresponding author)., PH.D., Atlantic technological University, İreland, cliona.brady@atu.ie

**Senior Lecturer at Queen’s University Belfast, U.K., g.kacmaz@qub.ac.uk
Article history: Received 20 September 2022, Accepted 18 November 2022, Published 30 December 2022,
Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

Recognition of the role of the spaces we inhabit in affecting sense of self and how we respond
within them can be facilitated through studying film from an architectural perspective. Certain films
have attempted to communicate hidden layers, the lesser-seen traces of association and memory
that are undefinable in words, which lurk just beyond the realm of language; detected through
sound, light, shape, or movement – or a combination of all the senses. Film has evolved over the
years to blur the boundaries between the tangible and intangible, giving an insight into the psyche
Page| 137
of characters who react to situations and cross boundaries in ways we never would, and yet they
are made relatable. What really enables us to get inside the head of the protagonist is when we see
them in their own domain, when they close the door and truly occupy their home space, dropping
any masks or pretensions, as can be seen in this case. This paper analyses the recent film Joker
(Todd Phillips, 2019), depicting the origin of the Joker character in terms of the relationship
between interior space and the psyche of the occupant. The Batman franchise is part of the DC
series of comics, television series and films, in which the character of Joker is a primary antagonist.
The film portrays a highly intimate character story of a man attempting to cope during a personal
and cultural crisis. Joker is particularly pertinent due its resonance with contemporary urban
psychological maladies.

2. The History of Joker

The character of Joker was created by Jerry Robinson, Bill Finger and Bob Kane and first appears
in Batman #1 in 1940. Many different iterations have evolved over the eighty years since, with the
general consensus that he is primarily an anarchic, psychotic and chaotic character, possessing a
twisted sense of humour and no trace of empathy. Batman: The Killing Joke, Alan Moore’s graphic
novel published by DC Comics in 1988, was the first origin story proposed for the character. Moore
cites German Expressionist director, Paul Leni’s adaptation of Victor Hugo’s 1869 novel, The Man
Who Laughs (1928) as a key influence. Todd Phillips also credits Leni’s characterisation as the
starting point for his 2019 film, in seeking a way to convey the simultaneous pain and humour of
the character. Cesar Romero played the first Joker, in the 1966 – 1968 television series and in the
film Batman (Leslie H. Martinson, 1966). A talented dancer and actor, Romero brought playfulness
and energy to the character, as well as the signature purple suit and green shirt, which became his
uniform in many subsequent cases. Tim Burton’s film, Batman (1989), featured Jack Nicholson as
the Joker and offered something of a backstory. He fell into a vat of acid and survived with facial
scarring giving him a permanent smile-like grimace, white skin and green hair (Figures 1-2). Burton’s
animated style built on Romero’s theatricality and Nicholson developed the character’s playful
menace, while introducing an uneasy sense of semi-dormant violence, constantly on the verge of
eruption. Consistent with Burton’s film language, the spatial qualities in the film are dramatic, with
high contrast and colour and these are reflected in how the Joker is presented. In addition to his
brightly coloured tailored suits, the character’s presence is frequently accompanied by flashing
lights, explosions and is highly performative. Nicholson’s portrayal endured in cultural memory for
almost twenty years before Joker made his next on-screen appearance.

Figures 1-2 The Joker (Jack Nicholson) in highly expressive setting in Batman (1989)

Christopher Nolan took over as director of a trilogy of Batman films with Christian Bale in the
titular role. His first film, Batman Begins (2005), delivered a dark turn from the earlier Batman
movies. Using the widespread attraction of the superhero genre, Nolan explored the identity of the
C. Brady, G.K. Erk / ‘Is it me, or is it getting crazier out there?’: The psyche of the interior in joker: An analysis of psychological
space in Todd Phillips joker (2019) through collage

characters as the driving force behind the narrative. The British filmmaker focused on the loss and
grief that Bruce Wayne endured by losing his parents at a young age, and the resulting underlying
anger he battles to control. In an interview before the release of his second Batman film The Dark
Knight (2008), Nolan stated that his approach to the film was to ‘take the tropes and iconography
of the action-hero genre and ground it in a reality. Real life is more tactile, more threatening, more
emotional. The experience is amplified’ (Boucher, 2008). This was an intention Phillips later
Page | 138
maintained in his rendition of the genre. Heath Ledger played the role of Joker in The Dark Knight.
Nolan and Ledger were both keen to portray an original Joker embodiment – younger, and with
more of a punk aesthetic. Ledger’s untimely death before the film’s release undoubtedly lent the
performance an added depth and resonance, and after 2008, the name Joker was synonymous with
Ledger. The character was not included in Nolan’s next Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises (2012),
the conclusion to his Dark Knight trilogy. Ledger’s Joker is frequently presented in a central position
within a space in playful but menacing pose (Figure 5). In several cases he infiltrates a space
unexpectedly and uninvited, often adopting a guise or mask in addition to his usual clown makeup.
Aligning with his intrusive and highly disruptive character, the spaces around Ledger’s Joker often
display stark contrast, making him seem forever out of place (Figures 3-4).

Figures 3-4 Joker (Heath Ledger) eternally displaced in The Dark Knight (2008)

Figure 5 Layered setting simulating the Joker’s layered personas in The Dark Knight

In 2019 Todd Phillips directed the most recent film featuring Joker. This time he is the
protagonist. A consistent back story for the character of Joker has never existed. Each time his
background is questioned, Joker has offered a different explanation for his appearance and
motivations. Whereas Nolan looks on Batman as somewhat of an anti-hero or flawed hero (hero by
default), Phillips points the lens firmly on the ‘bad guy’ and builds him up with tender attention to
detail of every characteristic the Joker possesses, which leads to him becoming the villain. Resonant
of Nolan’s statement regarding his grounding the superhero story in some semblance of reality –
the opposite of Burton’s agenda, and indeed the majority of the superhero genre – Phillips stated
his intention to ‘run…everything through as realistic a lens as possible’ (2019). His film presents
plausible explanations for what have become the recognisable characteristics of the Joker – the
white face and green hair are make-up for his day job as a clown, the uncontrollable laughter is a
mental illness, known as pseudobulbar affect. This is also the first time the character clearly has a
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

name 1, Arthur Fleck. Phillips classifies his film as a character study, inspired by films of the late
nineteen-seventies and eighties, like Dog Day Afternoon (Sidney Lumet, 1975) and Taxi Driver
(Martin Scorsese, 1976), whose influence is apparent throughout (even to the presence of Robert
de Niro portraying Murray Franklin).

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Figure 6 The Language of Phillips’ Joker

3. The Story of Joker (2019)

The narrative follows a protagonist of psychological fragility whose circumstances result in the
disruption of the delicate balance that existed to keep him functioning in a harsh world. Joker
highlights the effect of an individual at the mercy of these characteristics and contexts and takes
them to a visual and narrative extreme. Directed by Todd Phillips, and released to significantly
divided reaction in 2019, Joker focuses on the effects of capitalist domination of society on a broken
city, a divided populous and a disregarded individual. The film deals more with the consequences
of the permeating sense of isolation, which this environment has nurtured - a breed of inhabitant
deprived of sympathy and eventually, empathy. Set in the fictional city of Gotham, of the Batman
universe, Arthur Fleck (Joaquin Phoenix) is a product of the environment he occupies in the past
(abused physically and psychologically, without attention or affection), present (depressed, with
unaddressed psychological issues, living in a squalid apartment with a challenging mother), and
future (no employment, no medical assistance).
Lawrence Sher, director of photography for Joker, worked on five previous films with Phillips. A
number of these were comedies including The Hangover (2009), which Sher (2019a) explains
influenced their speed of working, noting the high level of energy that it is necessary to maintain
on a shoot for the content to come across as fresh. Likely influenced by this experience, very little
was rehearsed or marked out and storyboards were not used in the realisation of Joker. Within this
set up, Phoenix was given the freedom to improvise within the scenes. As mentioned earlier in
relation to the inspiration for the original Joker, Phillips also drew upon Paul Leni’s German
Expressionist melodrama, The Man Who Laughs (1928), where Conrad Veidt plays Gwynplaine, a

1
The Joker’s true name has never been made clear. In Batman: Curse of the White Knight (Sean Murphy, 2019 – 2020) he claims to hold
the name Jack Napier. In the more recent series Gotham (Bruno Heller, 2014 – 2019) Joker is portrayed as identical twins named Jerome
and Jeremiah Valeska.
C. Brady, G.K. Erk / ‘Is it me, or is it getting crazier out there?’: The psyche of the interior in joker: An analysis of psychological
space in Todd Phillips joker (2019) through collage

man cursed with a constant smile or grimace. Film critic Roger Ebert notes the salient role of the
set in portraying the disturbing tone of the film, referencing Lotte Eisner’s detailed analysis of
German silent cinema in The Haunted Screen:
The low ceilings and vaults oblige the characters to stoop and force them into those jerky
movements and broken gestures which produce the extravagant curves and diagonals [of]
the Expressionist precept. Page | 140
(Eisner, 1965, p. 120)
Expressionists often used unusually low ceilings and doorways in order to force their
characters to walk stooped over or sideways. Their staircases rarely climbed frankly from
floor to floor, but seemed to twist away into mystery. Dramatic lighting left much of the
screen in darkness. Concealment and enhancement, not revelation, was the assignment of
the camera.
(Ebert, 2004, p. 1)
Leni had developed the ‘moving restrictive architecture’ used in The Cabinet of Dr Caligari in his
previous film Waxworks (1924), where he claimed his visual style sought to embody ‘an
indescribable fluidity of light, moving shapes, shadows, lines, and curves. It is not extreme reality
that the camera perceives, but the reality of the inner event, which is more profound, effective and
moving than what we see through everyday eyes, and … cinema can reproduce this truth,
heightened effectively’ (Leni, 1924 in Eisner, 1965, p. 127). This reached a new level of expression
in The Man Who Laughs and in developing the character of Arthur Fleck, Phillips drew from the
ambiguous character of Gwynplaine who laughed through pain, and more vitally, from his resulting
emotional conflict.
In general, the visual language of the film is based on the contrast of extremes, with wide angled
compositions followed by extreme close-ups. ‘One of the reasons we shot large format [was] to
draw the audience in psychologically to this character and feel empathy and really feel this
transition that he was going through and his descent into chaos and madness’ (Sher, 2019a, 3:39 –
3:50). The early wide shots show Arthur through a long lens, as a small insignificant figure within a
larger environment, surrounded by people and objects that are separated from him (for instance,
on the street as he swings the sign, or sitting on the bus). Later, when he is alone in his apartment
this is contrasted with proximal shots of Arthur as ‘true’ self, transitioning from ‘lonely’ in the early
scenes to ‘flamboyant’ in the later ones (Figures 8-9). Expanding on this notion of contrast, Sher
describes Joker as a film about ‘opposite ends of the spectrum, two sides of yourself - the shadow
and the light…Those contrasting colours are a lot like what’s going on internally with Arthur’ (2019b,
9:48-9:55). In terms of camera movement, the question was ‘where is the camera and what
psychological effect does that have on the audience?’ (Sher, 2019b, 9:26). In several scenes the
frame is divided through contrasting colour or focus, communicating some sort of dichotomy – the
battle between harmony and chaos, peace and madness.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

Page| 141

Figures 7-9 Invisible in Gotham city; Arthur as his ‘lonely’ self and ‘flamboyant’ self

3.1. Body and Disruption

Figure 10 Shot immediately preceding refrigerator scene

The psychological state of the character was the main motivation behind the scene structure in
Joker. For example, the unscripted scene where Arthur crawls into the refrigerator was the result
of shooting extra footage to explore his insomnia (Sher, 2019c). Arthur maintains the same position
as the scene changes from the performance hall bathroom to his mother’s kitchen. This suggests
his bent form is being acted on from internal rather than external forces. The environment changes,
but he cannot. He is centred within the composition (framed unusually as a square) his skeletal
form is framed by the orange hue of the streetlights through the curtains. His body and the
C. Brady, G.K. Erk / ‘Is it me, or is it getting crazier out there?’: The psyche of the interior in joker: An analysis of psychological
space in Todd Phillips joker (2019) through collage

surrounding kitchen units are bathed in cold blue light, emphasising his frailty and isolating the
elements from each other.

Page | 142

Figures 11-14 Refrigerator scene composition in Joker

As in other scenes, Sher left the camera rolling and watched Phoenix move around the
apartment at night. At one point he empties the contents of the fridge and climbs inside, closing
the door. The camera moves slowly closer to the fridge door, lit up in blue. It does not reopen. This
is another extremely character driven scene, included in this case to convey the irrationality and
random actions of the mind of an insomniac character. Viewed in sequence the shots look like film
negatives. The complimentary colours blue and orange are used, creating depth within the dimly lit
apartment. The colour difference makes a dramatic impact on the scene, evident when the colour
is removed (Figure 15). Reflecting the internal conflict going on within his psyche, the contrast
between the colours creates separation within the space. The uncorrected fluorescent cyan blue of
the kitchen space contrasts with the warmer sodium vapour behind, coming from streetlights and
shopfronts in the world outside (Sher, 2019c).

Figure 15 Colour removed. Depth of contrast minimised, as well as impact of complimentary blue and orange
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

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Figures 16-17 Arthur Fleck’s skeletal body in Joker; Trevor Reznik’s (Christian Bale) emaciated frame in The Machinist
(Brad Anderson, 2004) which also deals with a man struggling with psychological disruption in this case, insomnia and
repressed guilt for a hit and run incident resulting in the death of a child

Phoenix describes how he saw the foundation of the character as very damaged and fragile.
‘[Arthur] experienced childhood trauma and that, more than anything shapes his perception of the
world. [which leaves you in a] highly reactive state in which you perceive and look for threat
everywhere’ (2019, 2:35-2:50). He lost 52lbs for the role making him aware of his body in a different
way and influencing the movement of the character, so that he seemed ‘never satisfied…in a
perpetual state of yearning’ (6:10). ‘I felt like I could move my body in ways that I hadn’t been able
to before. And I think that really lent itself to some of the physical movement that started to emerge
as an important part of the character,’ (Phoenix in Smith, 2020, p. 1).

Figures 18-21 Colour and light in the apartment

This sequence of shots presents an example of the powerful effect of colour within a scene. The
scene in the bathroom and bedroom are brighter since his mother has left the apartment. Sun
streams in the window and the apartment glows warmly. Arthur dances maniacally to music on the
radio. He has purpose in this scene – his focus is clear through his actions and his gaze (Figures 18-
21). He has taken over his mother’s bedroom and paints his face, his Joker face reflected in the
mirror and the mask hanging on it.

Figure 22 Study of light and shadow and the viewer’s constantly changing perspective of Arthur
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Figure 23 Detail of storyboard compiled of mask scene

Figures 24-26 Overhead shots: Analysis of sequence through contrast and colour. Mother’s bedroom

The soft, comforting tones of the bedroom are permeated by the strong blue green angled light
falling across him (Figures. 24-26). Activities outside the frame make their presence felt through the
lights of the city coming through the window as well as the television screen intruding visually and
audibly, underlining the newspaper headline on the floor. The camera hovers over his inactive form,
accentuating his impotence and isolation. All of these forces combine to express the impossibility
of Arthur’s escape from the external city and its impact on his fragile psyche.
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3.2. Movement
Unable to psychologically reconcile his violent reactions with his usual mode of dealing with
conflict through retreat or submission, Arthur releases his heretofore inexpressible emotions
through movement. His mind is still in turmoil, searching for right or wrong, and his body comes to
grips with expressing his conflicting emotions before his mind. The moment he looks one way, then
Page| 145 the other, and pauses, his face darkens and his acceptance of his actions is evident, and irreversible.
His previously pitiable self-confidence has broken through and he is forever changed. He has
crossed an invisible line and there is no going back. The shadow, Joker is revealed. This scene can
also be read as a refinement of Caesar Romero’s dancing Joker, gleeful way of moving, like
Gwynplaine’s frozen smile originating in mock triumph over terrible pain. The playfulness of the
movement however, is tinged with menace. This ambiguity is characteristic of the trickster
archetype, with which the character of Joker has frequently displayed alignment.

Figures 27-30 Inner conflict expressed through Arthur’s movement in space

Figure 31 Composition of shots from the Metamorphosis scene in Joker

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Figures 32-33 Analysis of Metamorphosis scene showing Arthur’s reinvention of the space through the movement of
his body within it

3.3. Camera Movement and Colour

Sher describes how Arthur’s psychological state was always foremost in executing the
cinematography: ‘Static shots were…observing him objectively in his world, in his space. [W]e
wanted to align ourselves emotionally with him and the handheld camera allowed us the freedom
to move with him [and be] more emotionally connected’ (2019b, 29:01 to 29:10). Fixed cameras
are used towards the beginning of the film, with very deliberate, slow movement (Cosoli, 2019,
27:17). Handheld camera is used when Arthur is alone, the strength of which is demonstrated in
this scene. Running on the street, griptrix (cameras on wheels) are used, gliding smoothly in front
of Arthur as he sprints. Once he ducks inside the public bathroom, the camera switches to handheld.
The fact that this transformation takes place under the city, in a basement, resonates with the
notion of unconscious gaining more power and revealing itself. The entire space was lit rather than
the individual character, which gave Phoenix freedom to move around within the space and allowed
the camera to move with him. Sher let the camera roll all the time and ran the scene top to bottom
over and over. There could be improvisation within the scene, but that structure existed (Sher,
2019b).

Figures 34-37 Low camera angles highlighting the dominance of the emerging Joker persona
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The psychological influence on the spectator is felt on an emotional level and contributes, along
with sound and music, to the searing effect of this scene drenched in green – a monster being
birthed. The night streets and beneath the bridge are lit with orange streetlights. Once inside
however, the metamorphosis scene relies almost entirely on the fluorescent green hue, with the
accompanying hum of the lighting under the bridge into which natural light never penetrates. This
replaces the ringing in Arthur’s ears that begins with the gunshots he fired, giving the sense that it
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will never leave him. The black and white diamond patterned tile on the floor resembles a joker
playing card.
3.4. Sound and Music
The filmed version differs from the script due to the openness of filming to the instinctual
reactions of Phoenix within the set. In the written script, the song Send in the Clowns – which
commenced with the Wall Street thugs on the train – continues until after Arthur enters the
bathroom. In the film, all the sound is diegetic until he enters the bathroom and Guðnadóttir’s
instrumental piece begins. Arthur’s psyche is given form through the cello, which begins as a thin
solitary note. The echo of the Wall Street man singing Send in the Clowns is fresh in our memory,
along with the train clanging through the station. Non-diegetic music recalling the intonations of Al
Bowlly’s Midnight, the Stars and You, as used in The Shining (Stanley Kubrick, 1980), sets an ironic
elegance against an inevitable and undesirable outcome. In a recent interview at the Berlinale,
Guðnadóttir described her sense of the film and the inspiration for the music as a ‘very current
character study; a very intense journey [where] a lot happens internally’ (2020). She played all the
cello music in the film, recorded from live performance which lends it a distinctly unique and
intimate tone. The script for this scene was quite straightforward, but her music adds tone, depth
and meaning, backgrounding the lyrical movement of Arthur going through his transformation.
The next section focuses on two key scenes in the film. The first on is the ‘Journal scene’ when
Arthur’s interior psychological state becomes externalised. Whereas the ‘Metamorphosis scene’ is
the point at which the boundary of Arthur’s identity breaks down and permits the Joker persona to
claim control.

4. Journal Scene

Figure 38 Journal scene

This two-minute scene runs from 00:26:01 to 00:27:59 so the audience is already familiar with
the character. It opens in darkness except for this welcoming lamp-glow illuminating the seated
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figure of Arthur as he writes in his journal 2. The scene transitions on Arthur’s journal from the
previous scene at the comedy club. We see the space, with gentle side lighting giving the apartment
a feeling of warmth. Arthur sits at the dining table by the window to the city – a small figure to the
far right of the screen. A warm orange wall-light sits at the same height as his dark head, but the
front of his torso is lit up by a bright white pendulum-light over the small table. It also illuminates
part of the grid-patterned wallpaper behind. The camera slowly moves towards him, switches to
Page | 148
follow his point of view of the text as he scrawls about his daily struggle to be accepted, which he
intends to present as comedic. He switches writing with his right hand to his left, amusing himself
to counteract the immense despair of his isolation. His smile more closely resembles a grimace as
he completes the sentence, amused either by his joke or his perverse attempt at ambidexterity.

Figures 39-41 Storyboard sequence: Arthur’s internal psyche is rendered visible

Figure 42 Overhead shot of Arthur’s focus

The sudden switch to an overhead shot draws the viewer directly into Arthur’s perspective, the
objects of his life on display as if in a museum exhibit: journal, pill bottle, cigarette lighter, pen. As
in the overall language of the film, this scene is a combination of long shots and extreme close-ups.
There is also a distinct contrast between light and shade in the scene, which works alongside the
contrast in colour tone. The process of writing is frequently used in therapy to separate oneself
from their thoughts by externalising them. In this case, through this act Arthur seems transported
to a new reality. There is a knock at the door; it is his neighbour Sophie Dumond (Zazie Beetz). His
sense of self is elevated to someone who has an effortlessly good relationship and their
conversation ends with a future date.

2
Arthur refers to his notebook in the early scene with his therapist as both his ‘journal’ and his ‘joke diary’. The term journal is used in
the text to signify both.
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Figures 43-48 Study of depth and contrast of light and shadow in the Journal scene

Figure 49 Journal Collage 1: The first Joker collage is a digital composite of images which emphasise the journal as a
central component and introduces layers representing conscious and unconscious thought, gradually becoming
expressed within the space.

Contrast is also evident in the sound within the scene, between diegetic and non-diegetic
sources 3. Cello is present from the start of the scene, high and grating, increasing in shrillness as
the scene progresses, and retreating when the doorbell rings and the scene concludes. The score
by Finnish composer Hildur Guðnadóttir conveys tones of unrest, melancholy, isolation, searching.
A police siren fights the notes of the cello. One is steady and growing, straying into shrillness and
back again, the other a pulsating urgent slow and steady tone. The doorbell buzzes and the music
stops. Only voices are heard. The harsh cello surfaces only when he is alone. Is this the voice of his
unconscious, his repressed shadow making his presence felt? The entire scene is excruciatingly
intimate. The audience is permitted full access to Arthur’s pain and loneliness and also the way he
has learned to deal with it, through humour. It is deeply uncomfortable as the sentiments he writes
reveal his true feelings, writing with his non-dominant left hand smiling in amusement, almost to
spite his pain.

3
In this case the diegetic sounds are the police siren, the vague sound of traffic on the street below, the doorbell, and Arthur’s brief
conversation with Sophie (although that occurs in his mind). In this scene the non-diegetic sound is instrumental, primarily Guðnadóttir’s
cello, which we begin to associate with Arthur’s inner psyche being expressed.
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Figure 50 The composition of this shot at the end of the Journal scene amplifies Arthur’s isolation, with dominant
negative space and short siding at play

Figure 51 Journal Collage 2: Exposed layers of intrusion on Arthur’s psyche

The collage reveals the irrepressible nature of the continuous noise inside Arthur’s head,
growing in presence as he opens the door to his inner thoughts through his writing. The scalpel cuts
also allow access to a layer of sequential stills of the scene beneath, calling attention to the
repetitive nature of his daily routine, indicating that this has happened many times before, and the
ripped sections convey the sense of something building up and starting to break through, disrupting
the apparently serene setting.
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Figure 52 Journal Collage 3

Journal collage 3 (Figure 52) connects more apparently to the unconscious and hidden persona.
The layers are more ambiguous here, making it harder to decipher what is at the forefront. The
warmer tones of the space in the scene are invaded by the green of the later scene where Joker is
fully born and accepted. This aquamarine colour appears in the kitchen space of this scene, and is
glimpsed through the servery wall from the living room, contrasting with the warm orange, which
surrounds Arthur. More of the surrounding space is visible in this collage; the empty chair and stools
standing starkly, his thin frame appearing isolated, with the window to the dark city behind him. As
he smokes, looking off in the direction of the kitchen’s green glow, his gaze aligns with that of Joker.
This helps plant the notion that Joker was fully formed in Arthur’s mind before he is revealed to the
audience. He had been evolving there slowly and unconsciously as an antidote to Arthur’s timidity.
His visible presence makes the red paint take on a more sinister tone, and it is permeated to reveal
a hazy image of the Joker’s visage. The white sections are more intrusive and disordered in this
version, forming a chaotic frame around the moment.
Although voiceover is not used in Joker, the content of his journal is essential in making his inner
psyche visible within this scene. The poignant tone in his writing is incorporated through the visceral
language of the composition, which expresses the dialectic intimacy and immensity of the
psychological burden Arthur is carrying.
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Figure 53 Journal Collage 3 (detail) Illuminated layers are revealed

Figure 54 Journal Collage 2 (detail)

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Figure 55 Journal Collage 3 (detail)

The analysis through the storyboards identifies the components of the space Arthur occupies:
architectural elements of enclosing walls, floor and ceiling, the small table and chairs, high stools at
the counter and sources of artificial light at points around the kitchen and living room. Drawing the
storyboards also helped isolate zones and proportions of light and shadow as well as hierarchy
created through dominant colours within the space. The narrative to this point and the content of
his writing inform the psychological motivation within the scene, which intensifies as the camera
slowly zooms closer to his frail figure. The collages harness this powerful intensity through their
acceptance of some of the isolated elements comprising the space, and the introduction of layers
of intrusion above and beneath them. Past, present and future merge as he allows his innermost
thoughts to be externalised on paper. The viewer has seen enough to recognise the pain that
exposes itself through the guise of his unamusing ‘jokes’, which is rendered visible through the
multiple layers of the collage. Amplification of certain architectural elements through scale or light
mimics the behaviour of the psyche experiencing disruption, where perception is distorted and the
familiar becomes the uncanny. The dialectic between the homeliness of the interior space and the
searing emotional pain of the contents of his journal are the most powerful of the intangible forces
revealed through the collage method.
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5. Metamorphosis Scene

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Figure 56 Digital collage of the Metamorphosis scene

(00:34:31 to 00:36:14) The undertones of the city’s transport system are muted as Arthur pushes
the door shut, breathing against it for a moment. He exhales; trying to process what has just
happened and what his next move should be. The fluorescent lights flicker, cello music begins: a
single note. He holds his breath. Something inside him is stirred. His foot slides along the floor, his
body moving slowly to the music inside his head. Maybe it is not all wrong and senseless; something
seems to click into place; something feels right. His movements morph into a graceful and flowing
dance. The note is joined by a second in harmonious alignment. His eyes are downcast; arms move
above his head and draw his gaze upwards. He continues his slow, smooth, all-encompassing
movements; he turns one way, then the other. He pauses and his face vaguely darkens. He reaches
downwards, one hand following the other, tightened into fists, searching. They find a new rhythm,
arms sliding over each other expressing another side of his self, neither frail nor hesitant. His face
changes again, registering acceptance. He straightens his body, arms outstretched, and presents
his new face to his reflection. Joker is revealed.
This scene marks the crossing of a threshold where the shadow archetype comes to the fore.
The ‘metamorphosis’ scene takes place in a public bathroom at the crux of the movie where Arthur
evolves into Joker, or finally accepts the character that becomes Joker. The scene immediately
preceding this takes place in the subway. Arthur is still dressed as a clown and has just been fired.
Three young Wall Street type businessmen are hassling a woman in the same carriage, when
Arthur’s discomfort erupts as uncontrollable laughter, drawing the men’s attention to him. He
shoots two of them in self-defence and chases the injured third one from the train, shooting him
several times on the platform. Arthur runs up the steps in the subway station and out into the city.
His footsteps pound loudly on the street as his shadow precedes him, black and growing larger on
the wall of the tunnel, in a highly noiresque shot. This highly emotionally-charged scene is full of
frantic energy, communicated through his exaggerated manner of running, arms flailing, terrified,
feet slapping through the damp street. This transition between two highly charged scenes is vital
to framing the significance of the metamorphosis scene. Thoughts are suspended and there is only
unconscious movement, from when Arthur runs up the subway steps until he ducks into the public
bathroom. He slams the door behind him, breathing against it. Charged by the emotion of the
previous scene Arthur finds himself entrapped within a strange paradox of terror and exhilaration,
which matches the discomfort of the audience, at a moment when their understanding of who he
is has just been thrown starkly into question.
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Page| 155 Figures 57-59 Unconscious action

6. Conclusion to the Joker Analysis

My analysis of Joker is primarily based around two key disruptive events in Arthur’s life. The first
allows his inner psyche to become externalised through his journal writing. The second scene
depicts the acceptance and reveal of the Joker persona. Joker engages vivid colour to convey the
sense of the intangible. Storyboards were used to analyse tangible and intangible qualities of the
scenes (including position of character within the frame, elements composing the space, light,
contrast and colour). The collages were essentially an intuitive response to the expression of
Arthur’s experience in the film. His set-upon character feels the world closing in around him and
Gotham city falling apart without even noticing him, uncannily resonant of certain aspects of our
experience during the Covid-19 pandemic. Each collage began with a structured interior
environment and through building up layers, gradually became more visceral and chaotic to reveal
Arthur’s underlying psyche. Viewing the collages as a work in continuous progress, it is expected
that any following iterations might result in the complete obliteration of the original image,
obscured by the overlying presence of the new persona of Joker.
In my analysis, Joker has provided a contemporary film language describing the existence of a
character within a harsh urban and social context, which gradually drives him to a psychological
break in order to deal with his perceived surroundings, Visually, the film can be viewed as the story
of two separate characters: Initially, Arthur’s psychological state of dislocation and hopelessness is
conveyed through strategic cinematic language. The interior spaces he occupies seem to possess a
claustrophobic sense of restriction, as for example, in his mother’s apartment, the therapist’s office,
and the stairwell in Arkham asylum. Sound is also a contributory factor to the sense of unease and
underlying discomfort. The instrumental cello soundtrack establishes a particularly strong
alignment of psychological fragility within a restricted space. Even the vast scale of the city feels
like its grey walls are closing in on him when their image is accompanied by the thin wails of the
cello. From the scrawny appearance of his diminutive form within the composition, to the use of
colour connected to his mood, and close alignment of sound with the inner psyche, the unfortunate
environments Arthur continually finds himself in, feel like they are carried around with him. Arthur’s
inner shadow cannot be held inside for long, which brings us to his other persona, Joker, whom we
catch glimpses of before he erupts into dominance in the Metamorphosis scene. His actions and
violence are sudden and extreme as a reaction to a lifetime of Arthur’s unconscious repressed
anger, shame and hurt. The collages depict aspects of each persona, rendering their meaning
ambiguous. They each show the presence of the underlying rage lying at the deepest layer, overlaid
with a façade of daily existence with a vague order. The topmost layer represents Arthur’s ever-
shifting inner state, rife with conflict and disorder.
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Figure 60 Arthur’s sense of lack of control over his world reflected in the claustrophobia
of the therapist’s office

Joker builds intensity through the cramped, claustrophobic, object–filled interiors that Arthur is
depicted in from the start. The walls of his therapist’s office give the impression of a world closing
in on him, with books and paperwork filed high in stacks from floor to ceiling. Mimicking the
memory of him in a holding cell in the psychiatric hospital, the clock in each interior reads ten past
eleven, intoning the interminable ticking as each second passes. The décor of the small one-
bedroom apartment he shares with his cruel mother is that of an elderly lady, with nothing of his
personality or preference apparent. The colours are bright and almost garish at times, dull and
lifeless in other light. In contrast, The Murray Franklin Show beams in through the television full of
colour, light and sound. In person, Joker is first revealed to the public in this circus-like space,
fragmented and dispersed to millions of television sets around the city, where he can no longer be
overlooked. In the Metamorphosis scene his appropriation of an urban interior space gives value
to an otherwise anonymous public bathroom, where the persona of Joker is first revealed to
himself. The sense of ambiguity also resurfaces as a vital quality suggesting more than the visual.
Associations with certain colours, and the presence and location of objects in the environment
which can be interpreted as being symbolic, suggest a further layer of meaning held within the
interior, reflecting the inhabitant’s internal mind.
6.1. Final observations
Film has proved to be an invaluable resource for multiple examples of lived space, affording a
foundation for a language to open up discourse on its representation in architecture. A palpable
connection exists between a character’s psyche and the interiors in which they are depicted.
Analysing extreme perceptions of ordinary spaces revealed aspects of film language that can be
adopted to potentially inform a richer definition of lived space in architecture. As film and television
continue to evolve alongside visual, aural and haptic technological advancements, we can further
adopt their expressive syntax to inform means of representing our personal encounter with space.
As a materialisation of the subjective encounter between a human and space, the collage can be
viewed as a visible exchange between the psychological interior and the physical interior, with all
that connotates. The collage therefore permits a discussion of architecture which is inseparable
from its psychological effect. It is unrealistic to believe that Covid-19 is the last pandemic that will
impact us. These critical physical, psychological and cultural outcomes highlight the importance of
interdisciplinary research as well as the usefulness of collage, in providing a language with which to
enunciate and potentially even address the mental implications of lockdown. The severe collective
disruption of the pandemic opened eyes to the potential adaptability of interior space when
necessary, and to realise that we can demand more from our interior space. This notion of drawing
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

together our intentions and expectations of our spaces through a method such as the psychospheric
collage, can be a powerful tool facilitating the recognition of connections between our spaces and
how we feel in them, and how even small changes can result in positive impact on our psychological
state and ongoing psychological health and resilience.

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Marvellous in Architecture, Architectural Design (AD), March/April 2018, Profile No. 252, 02, Vol. 88,
2018, pp. 24-29.
Phillips, Todd (2019) Joaquin Phoenix and Todd Phillips on Joker, Film4 Interview, [Online]. Available at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2l98OMyDrqU&t=182s (Accessed: 13th October 2020).
Pile, Steve (1996) The Body and the City: Psychoanalysis, Space and Subjectivity, New York: Routledge.
Sabbadini, A. (2014) Moving Images: Psychoanalytic Reflections on Film, New York: Routledge.
Schonfield, Katherine (2000) Walls Have Feelings: Architecture, Film and the City, London: Routledge.
Sher, Lawrence (2019a) ‘The Cinematography of Joker. Case Study: Lawrence Sher’, Cooke Optics TV, Dec 5,
2019 [Online]. Available
at:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZHUTWpIulfA&list=PLFKE2wfZ446apyHiI8klolWtP1Dg9F8Di&in
dex=11 (Accessed: 23rd January 2020).
Sher, Lawrence (2019b) ‘Through the Lens: The Making of Joker with Cinematographer Lawrence Sher’, ASC.
American Cinematographer, Dec 18, 2019 [Online]. Available at:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HvPqXpp--qU&list=PLFKE2wfZ446apyHiI8klolWtP1Dg9F8Di&index=3
(Accessed: 23 January 2020)
Sher, Lawrence (2019c) ‘Joker Cinematographer Explains the Impact of Color in Film’, Vanity Fair, Nov. 5, 2019
[Online]. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th9pG9Q6Kuo (Accessed: 23rd January
2020).
Shields, Jennifer A. E. (2014) Collage and Architecture. Routledge: New York.
Smith, Jake (2020) ‘Joaquin Phoenix Says Losing 52 Pounds for Joker Made Him “Go Mad”’, Prevention, Feb
9, 2020 [Online]. Available at: https://www.prevention.com/weight-loss/a30809492/joaquin-phoenix-
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Sobchak, Vivian (1992) The Address of the Eye: A Phenomenology of Film Experience. Princeton: Princeton
University Press.
Tan, Ed S. (1996) Emotion and the Structure of Narrative Film: Film as an Emotion Machine, London:
Routledge.
Taubin, Amy (2012) Taxi Driver, London: BFI Film Classics.
Thomas, Maureen & Penz, François (2003) Architectures of Illusion: From Motion Pictures to Navigable
Interactive Environments, Bristol: Intellect.
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Cambridge Scholar’s Press.
Van Sijll, J. (2005) Cinematic Storytelling, Los Angeles: Michael Wiese Productions.

Resume
Dr. Clíona Brady is a lecturer in Architecture in Yeats’ Academy of Arts, Design and Architecture at the
Atlantic Technological University in Sligo since 2004. Her research and teaching interests revolve around
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 136-159

architecture and film and the psychological presence and impact of interior space. She completed an MA in
Education in 2011 entitled Dialectics of Theory and Praxis in Architectural Education: The role of the physical
model in the relationship between creative intention and intuitive action, which explored the use of
photography and film in communicating architectural ideas through the physical model. She completed her
PhD in Architecture at SNBE (School of the Natural and Built Environment), Queen’s University Belfast in 2022.
Her doctoral thesis Permeable Boundaries: Exploring the Architecture of the Psyche in Cinematic Spaces
Page| 159 through Collage proposed a new method of rendering the psychological content of interior space visible. She
is a member of CACity: Cinema and Architecture in the City Research Group (www.cacity.org).

With work/life experience in Ireland, Netherlands, Turkey, UK and USA, Gul Kacmaz Erk has been
conducting research in ‘architecture and cinema’ and ‘architecture and forced migration’. Before joining
Queen’s Architecture in 2011, she worked as a licenced architect in Istanbul/Amsterdam, researched at
University of Pennsylvania and University College Dublin, and taught at Philadelphia University, TUDelft and
Izmir University of Economics. She holds BArch (METU), MArch (METU) and PhD (ITU) degrees in Architecture,
directs Cinema and Architecture in the City research group (www.cacity.org), organises Walled Cities film
festivals, and conducts urban filmmaking workshops. Gul is a Senior Lecturer at Queen’s University Belfast,
programme director of MSc Advanced Architectural Design, member of RIBA Validation Panel and associate
fellow of Senator George J. Mitchell Institute for Global Peace, Security and Justice.
 Essay
JOURNAL OF DESIGN FOR RESILIENCE Online: www.drarch.org
IN ARCHITECTURE & PLANNING Volume 3, Special Issue, (160-169), 2022
DOI: 10.47818/DRArch.2022.v3si078

Knowledge and power relations: In a migration storytelling,

Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive

Işıl Baysan Serim*

Abstract

Starting from Gilles Deleuze's (1989, p.59) concepts of "worldization" or/and "world-image"
we should consider the intersection of cinema, architecture and storytelling as an act of
thinking about "world-building". Because only such action takes us through creative and
political stories that will enable us to understand why the cities of the future are migrant
camps. Flashdrive doesn't just give us a refugee camp story; also maps the spatio-temporal
distinctions of the survival journey. It presents a migration story shaped by media dispositifs
and spatial dispositifs in which power and knowledge are articulated.

Keywords: Architecture, film, camp, cinema, city, civil war, dispositif, flashdrive, knowledge-
power, media, refugee, storytelling, Scheherazade, World Building

1. Introduction
Why Scheherazade keeps on telling stories in the tales of One Thousand and One Nights) 1 ?
(Burton, 2002) Inasmuch as, storytelling is tantamount to survival for her. By using the power of
knowledge and language, she shows that stories can change lives, places, spaces, communities,
kingdoms and various forms of power relations. The mythopoetic tales of Scheherazade have ”lived
on, like germ cells, in many literatures” (Byatt 1999) and also have inspired architecture, cinema,
music, dance and performance in the world, for hundreds of years (Ouyang, 2003).
In Derviş Zaim's latest film, Flashdrive (2020), Scheherazade's art of storytelling becomes a
metaphorical theme, a spatial, temporal and political allegory from the very first scene, extending
from ”a filmic form of storytelling to the architecture of filmic space itself” (Bruno, 2007, p.182).
Within this context, Zaim (2022) turns his camera to the tragedy of the Syrian endless civil war2,
which has been taking place next to Turkey for the last ten years and refers to this tale to remind
the viewer ”the value of storytelling.” At that point, It is also possible to think that there is a
parallelism between the ongoing "civil war" in Syria and the "sibling rivalry" in the tale (Ouyang,
2003, p.405). What has changed are the devices, the tools, and even the media (TV, video, film,

1 Original title of the book is Alf Layla wa-Layla (interchangeably known as "The Arabian Nights"). Nevertheless, There are several

different titles of the work interchangeably used in the literature. The Thousand and One Nights, The Book of the Thousand Nights and
a Night and The Arabian Nights, among others. For further information see, Mamet-Michalkiewicz, (2011).
2 The Syrian civil war began in 2011 and, according to UN High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR, September 2022) operational

updated report, since then, over half its population of 22 million have been forced to flee, often multiple times. In the present, there
were approximately 6.9 million Syrians internally displaced and 6.9 million Syrian refugees mostly residing in neighboring countries of
Turkey, Lebanon and Jordan. However, Turkey received the highest numbers of Syrian refugees with an estimated number of 3.6 million
Syrians registered by the Government of Turkey (UNHCR, 2020) https://reporting.unhcr.org/document/3392

*Architect,Independent researcher, Türkiye, ibaysan@gmail.com

Copyright: © The Author(s). Distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 160-169

radio, internet) of this war. Today there is a digital war in many aspects (digital surveillance, data
tracking, spyware etc.) (Gold, 2018)
In what follows, Flashdrive which contains Scheherazade within Scheherazade fundamentally
implies the great mythic themes, the cultural binaries of the human life that ”correspond to the
constructed poles of East and West” (Hopcroft, 2016) : ”birth/ death, youth, maturation and
Page| 161 decline, mind/body, reason/emotion, ”civilization/ barbarity, progress/ stasis, self-
control/violence, reality/dream, war/peace” (Hopcroft, 2016). The film scrutinizes the events in
actual/virtual time sequences through the spaces encoded by power and knowledge relations
arising from these binary situations.(Deleuze, 1989) Of course, here it is very crucial to understand
”metaphor” as Jorge-Luis Borges (1993, pp.843-4) said: ”There is no basic dissimilarity between the
metaphor and what scientists call the explanation of a phenomenon. They both constitute a link
established between distinct things ...Hence, when a geometrician asserts that the moon is a
quantity that develops in three dimensions, his means of expression is no less metaphorical than
that of Nietzsche, who prefers to define the same moon as a cat walking on top of the roofs.”
In the film, Scheherazade firstly comes to view as a word, as the access code for a computer that
an anti-regime dissident hacker forcibly opened under torture, during the Syrian civil war. In a video
that appears as soon as the computer is turned on, we witness the slogans of the young dissidents
in a street protest, implying the power of the words that Scheherazade used to avoid impending
death: ”To live is to tell stories. We must find stories to stop death. We must share our stories for
life to go on.” Such protests, with similar sentences, are brought up again and again, sometimes on
the television screen, in a neighborhood, in the squares and sometimes in the traditional narrow
streets of the city. Leyla, the heroine of the film uses the real story of Scheherazade while expressing
the importance of storytelling so that children are not afraid of the war turmoil in two different
sequences. To paraphrase Deleuze (1989:222) ”Storytelling is not an impersonal myth, but neither
is it a personal fiction: it is a word in act, a speech-act through which the character continually
crosses the boundary which would separate his private business from politics, and which itself
produces collective utterances.”
Nevertheless, One Thousand and One Nights is based on a model that forms Arabian storytelling;
it is inherent in a knowledge-power paradigm peculiar to medieval Arab-Islamic culture. (Burton,
2002) (Byatt, 1999) (Ouyang, 2003) Power, especially ”political authority”, is expressed in two
counter-narratives, that is, ”Shahriar's descent from power, followed by ”the ‘folk's’ ascent to
positions of authority” (Ouyang, 2003). In this way, the film refers to its literary tradition of using
the frame-story as a platform from which to critique power. Reflecting on that tale the director
observes such narratives reveal uneven relations of power across numerous storytelling scenarios.
Thus, Flashdrive is a cinematic ”storytelling as emergent political act” (Andrew, 2000, p.228).

2. Storytelling through Architecture, Cinema and Media

The encounter between two disciplines doesn't take place
when one begins to reflect on another, but when one discipline realizes
that it has to resolve, for itself and by its own means,
a problem similar to one confronted by the other.
Gilles Deleuze
”Storytelling” says J. M. Coetzee (1988, p.5), is ”another, another mode of thinking”. Through
this assertion, he means that a ”story is a way of thinking - a non-analytic, archaic way of thinking.”
Otherworldly, it is such an invitation of reflection on what it means to think. Deleuze reveals the
"image of thought" mechanism by tracing the unbreakable bond between image and thought in his
cinema books, Movement-Image (1986) and Time-Image (1989). Both architecture and cinema
”provokes us to see, to feel, to sense, and finally to think differently”, (Flaxman, 2000, p. 2) that's
why storytelling is a trajectory which provides to invent the new, unseen potentialities of spaces
and times. Film and architecture provide a laboratory for the social and political actions that
determine storytelling.
I. Baysal Serim / Knowledge and power relations: In a migration storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive

In recent years, prominent British production designer Alex McDowell (2015) suggested that the
design technique "World Building", which he had employed in producing of some feature films 3,
could also be used to bring "sustainable solutions" to "real world problems" such as the refugee
crisis, the global warming, the pandemic, various disasters and so on. World Building *, he says, as
"the intersection of design, storytelling, and technology," will be significantly functional as well as
operational on critical issues of humanity that are often neglected, such as the refugee problem
Page | 162
(McDowell 2015). This technique enables to create conceptual visions of a problematized world in
which characters can be inserted to test the pilot environment. According to McDowell (2021),
through a global perspective, one of the things that quickly emerges from this process is that we
will ”start amassing this deep, informed view from multiple cultures.” Within this motive, it
becomes a non-profit institute (NGO), "a cutting-edge Organized Research Unit" dedicated to the
dissemination, education and recognition of the "future of narrative media".
In line with this goal, in 2016, the World Building Institute (WBI, Los Angeles), collaborating with
Berlinale Talents 4 , held a workshop, entitled "Migratory Narratives: Envisioning the Future world
of the Refugee Camp" as part of the Berlin International Film Festival 5 In the festival, as based on
the hypothesis of humanitarian expert Kilian Kleinschmidt, "the refugee camp is the city of the
future", a number of workshops were held. "In Kilian's view, the camp is really the beginning of the
city," said McDowell (2016). "If you flip the model, this kind of massive migration of populations is
permanent; it's a constant state. So that's the premise. If you take that as the provocation, then
how does that change what architecture needs to be? What about services? What about waste
management? What does governance look like? How do you stop this being a kind of top-down
governance with the UN or a local government coming in and just dictating?" Taking such problems
as the axis, participants started to design with the question of "a generic refugee camp in the year
2036" "engaging collaborative, immersive, interdisciplinary world building processes, and using
storytelling as a tool to try to comprehend this holistic and complex system." 6
Young talents are asked to collaborate with interdisciplinary World Building Studio experts. 7 In
the panel discussions held alongside the workshops, designers, architects, filmmakers, storytellers,
humanitarian aid specialists and political actors who seek sustainable solutions to the complex
spatio-temporal processes that determine refugee settlements came together to reveal the
diversity of human narratives.
The end-works of the workshop, as McDowell (2016) puts it, are ultimately the products of ‘post-
cinema’, formulated by storytelling and new media technologies. In this vein, it is also possible to
talk about the relationship between 'post-cinema' and architecture, which replaced the socio-
cultural agenda built by the mutual relationship between cinema and architecture in the 20th
century. Kester Rattenbury (2002, p. xxiii), in the early years of the 21th century, points out that the
”four of the key shifts in representation and media that affect architecture are perspective,
photography, film and e-technology.” Thus when Deleuze (1989:41) claims in his second cinema
study, ”Time is out of joint” 8 , he is depicting ”a post-cinematic time, recalibrated by behaviour in

3 McDowell (2015) remarked that he first developed the World Building technique for a sci-fi movie, Minority Report, (2002 directed by
Steven Spielberg) which is set in the futuristic highrise city of Washington DC in the year 2054.
* https://worldbuilding.institute/about

4 Berlinale Talents is the Berlin International Film Festival's talent development programme for the world's top 200 emerging filmmakers
and series creators. https://www.berlinale-talents.de/bt/programme/event/2193
5 Migratory Narratives: The Future World of the Refugee Camp’ // Berlinale Talents 2016 https://worldbuilding.institute/events/berlinale-

talents-world-building-studio
6 World Building Institute - https://worldbuilding.institute/events/berlinale-talents-world-building-studio
7 Workshop attendees included refugee expert Kilian Kleinschmidt, Google's head of VR filmmaking Jessica Brillhart, designer Talia

Radford, and Puneet Ahira, an advisor to US president Barack Obama, who is understood to be preparing to launch a personal initiative
that will focus on refugees. In the interview, McDowell emphasised how the project has attracted the attention of the White House and
the UN, who want to make developing solutions to the refugee crisis a priority in the sunset of his presidency.
8 Here Deleuze (1989:xi) refers to Hamlet’s words which ”signify that time is no longer subordinated to movement, but rather

movement to time.”
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 160-169

the world, but also by movements of world” (Colman, 2011, p.160). It's a post-war cinema that puts
truth back in crisis.
As a result of the convergence of the information, communication and network technologies,
computer, photography and cinema, ”we are witnessing the emergence of a different media regime
and indeed a different production style, than those which dominated the twentieth century” says
Page| 163 Shaviro (2010:12). The realms of new forms of media, which also refers to a ”postcinematic”,
”together with neoliberal economic relations, have given birth to radically new ways of
manufacturing and articulating lived experience.” (Shaviro, 2010b:2).
The film, Flashdrive (Derviş Zaim, 2020) that I will explore in this article, is not a digital work in
this sense, even it is thoroughly cinematic and engages with the filmic medium. However, it is
precisely the signs of time is what Deleuze (1989) defines as ”crystal-image” or ”crystalline
narration” engaging in ”political acts of storytelling” (Deleuze, 1989, p.243). ”As if cinema has found
the means of disconnecting itself from this 'true world' and becomes immanent to itself, a world of
pure appearances.” (Lambert, 2002, p. 94) The scenographic development of the film, needs the
representation of various technologies such as live voices, some texts, photographic camera, smart
phone, computer, lab-top, USB flash-drive, surveillance camera, drone warfare along with the
medical engineering. ”All forms of media have their own characteristics, biases and tendencies, as
well as their own limitations.” (Rattenbury, 2002, p.1)
Media theorist Henri Jenkins (2006) in his book ”Convergence Culture: Where Old and New
Media Collide”, offers a critical insight on the new forms of production, interaction, and
consumption that occur in the everyday spaces. ”Convergence’ says Jenkins (2006), is ”a word that
manages to describe technological, industrial, cultural, and social changes, depending on who's
speaking and what they think they are talking about.” These sea changes that will determine both
social and private space should be considered beyond the technological process. ”Representing a
shift in cultural logic, whereby consumers are encouraged to seek out new information and make
connections between dispersed media content”, Jenkins (2006) suggests a ”collective intelligence.”
By the way, the title of the film, ”Flashdrive” which literally means ”a plug-and-play portable
storage device”, a gadget (Wilson, 2017), of this ”ubiquitous digitization” (Rinken and Pötzschke
2022, p. 207) era, is the pivotal figure of the story. Otherworldly, beyond its literal function, the it
can be considered as a ‘diagrammatic’ tool which connects the storytelling in different ways.
Nevertheless, the flashdrive as a device, reminds us of the very change of memory’s status in our
culture through ”time-space compression” (Harvey, 1991, p. 285) For what constitutes the
‘flashdrive’ is ”precisely (..) its mixed status as an epistemological figure within a discursive order
and an object within an arrangement of cultural practices.” (Crary, 1992, p.31) To cite Deleuze
(1988, p.13) again "Machines are social before being technicaL" Like all the machines we encounter
along the film's itinerary, the flashdrive also cannot be reduced to a mere technological object or
discursive figure. Each of them is ”a complex social amalgam in which its existence as a textual
figure was never separable from its machinic uses.” (Crary, 1992, p. 31).
In this context, Foucault's (1980, p. 194) notion of dispositif 9 enables us to discuss all of them
-architecture, film, cinema media, and storytelling.- According to Foucault, ”dispositif ” is a ”…a
thoroughly heterogeneous ensemble consisting of discourses, institutions, architectural forms,
regulatory decisions, laws, administrative measures, scientific statements, philosophical, moral and
philanthropic propositions – in short, the said as much as unsaid. Such are the elements of the
apparatus. The apparatus itself is the system of relations that can be established between these
elements.” However
before Foucault, the concept was used by the film theorist Jean-Louis Baudry (1976; 1980) in
1970s.

9As Giorgio Agamben, who continued to think about the dispositif concept after Foucault and took the term to another level, stated,
this is a technical term, just like Plato's idea. Indicates that it should not be changed.
I. Baysal Serim / Knowledge and power relations: In a migration storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive

Through the notion of the dispositif, Michel Foucault produced one of the most influential works
on the subject of power and knowledge. Power is often seen as a negative and oppressive force,
but he was one of the first to discuss power as a powerful means of production and positivity in
society. Foucault (1980) famously uses the term "power" along with "knowledge" to indicate that
those who are strongest are those who guarantee scientific understanding, existing norms of
knowledge, and accepted ones: “If power were never anything but repressive, if it never did
Page | 164
anything but say no, do you think one could be brought to obey it? What makes power hold good,
what makes it accepted, is simply the fact that it doesn’t only weigh on us as a force that says no,
but that it traverses and produces things; it induces pleasure, forms knowledge, produces
discourse. It needs to be considered as a productive network which runs through the whole social
body, much more than as a negative whose function is repression”.

3. Topology of Survival Story

To live is to tell stories.
We must find stories to stop death
We must share our stories for life to go on
As the Thousand and One Nights shows, oral narration and storytelling are an important part of
Eastern cultures. The idiosyncratic position of the young opponents stems from this tradition. In
any Syrian city that reflects the seemingly endless labyrinths of stories trapped inside the stories,
young dissidents become the media of the street. After the opening sequence, archival footage of
the siege of the city of Deraa during the 2011 Arab Spring protests in Syria fills the screen. People
shout as ”With our blood, with our souls, we’ll save you, Darea! Everyone in this town is powerful!”
The filmmaker prefers to deploy TV media, through historical lenses for representing the turmoil of
the city and its inhabitants. These events are watched on television in the houses and cafes of the
city where the film takes place.
Later, the camera begins to watch and follow the street protests in the neighborhood where
Leyla and Ahmet Rıfkı live. It chases the camera through the labyrinthine narrow streets of urban
space. At the same time, Leyla and Ahmet Rıfkı and their other neighbors are watching the protests
from the windows. Camera focuses their -gridal- frames as the cinematic equivalent of Renaissance
theorician Alberti's (2011) pictorial metaphor in the Renaissance as a window-onto-the-world. As a
viewing device, it becomes an ‘instrument of the gaze’, a kind of ‘camera obscura on an urban scale’
(Jacobs, 2011, p. 551). Thus, the actual and virtual space intertwine as well as transform. Sequences
which show the militarization and politicization of space, surveillance of bodies and discipline are
overlapped. It is what Foucault (1984, p.245) emphasizes: ”…(t)here always remain the possibilities
of resistance, disobedience, and oppositional groupings ... liberty is a practice.”
In this way the film engages simultaneously real and virtual space and time, that reveal the
uncanny visage of the city. Throughout the film, the sound itself has become an image, or/and turns
into a space not a ”component of the visual image”, in Deleuze's (1989, p.278) words; it is a
formation of a sound-framing. Thus, the ”sound-image” and the ”visual-image” form two separate
frames, implying ”a limit-situations which pushes” the characters to the point of dehumanized
cityscape. (Deleuze, 1989, p. 5) According to Deleuze (1989, p.286), such a ”sound image frames a
mass or a continuity from which the pure speech act is to be extracted, that is, an act of myth or
story-telling which creates the event, which makes the event rise up into the air, and which rises
itself in a spiritual “ascension. And the visual image for its part frames an any-space-whatever, an
empty, ruined, abandoned or/and disconnected space which takes on a new value, because it will
bury the event under strati-graphic layers, and make it go down like an underground fire which is
always covered over.” (Deleuze, 1989, p. 267)
The layered and intermeshing urban and socio-political events, the civil war are turning Syrian
city into what the Humm-based architect define. By witnessing this social and historical
transformation from the inside, the architect Marwa al-Sabouni (2016) asks how Syria's
architecture paved the way for the war: ”Architecture in my country has played an important role
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 160-169

in creating, directing and amplifying conflict between warring factions, and this is probably true for
other countries as well. (..) While many reasons had led to the Syrian war, we shouldn't
underestimate the way in which, by contributing to the loss of identity and self-respect, urban
zoning and misguided, inhumane architecture have nurtured sectarian divisions and hatred. Over
time, the united city has morphed into a city center with ghettos along its circumference. And in
turn, the coherent communities became distinct social groups, alienated from each other and
Page| 165
alienated from the place.”

4. The Topology of Knowledge and Power

In the opening sequence of the film, a group of Assad regime soldiers torture a hacker and ask
for the password to the computer: ‘What is the password?’ The hacker replies, ”The code is
Scheherazade”. When they take a break from the torture and go outside, we realize that the hacker
is in an abandoned institutional building. Just at this moment, the protagonist of the film, Ahmet
Rıfkı, who is talking in front of the building, and the other soldier are shot by a sniper.
When you watch what is reflected in the media, it can be immediately understood that this
scene is ordinary for Syria. It is the ”the militarization of everyday life” which has penetrated to
everywhere. As a result of this attack, Ahmet Rıfkı loses his ability to speak and he starts working in
a special unit, ”The Military Intelligence Directorate” (Mukhabarat). He has been collecting
photographic and video evidence of people who have been killed. Together with Ahmet Rıfkı, we
witness the taxonomies of death and so politicization of the human body.
What Roland Barthes (1982, p.88) calls the “evidential force” of the photograph was, therefore,
”[a] complex historical outcome (..) exercised by photographs only within certain institutional
practices and within particular historical relations the investigation of which will take us far from
an aesthetic or phenomenological context. The very idea of what constitutes evidence has a history
(..) a history which implies definite techniques and procedures, concrete institutions, and specific
social relations—that is, relations of power.”
Foucault (1997, pp.239-40 / p.266) asks set of questions in Society Must be Defended, ”Must war
be regarded as a primal and basic state of affairs, and must all phenomena of social domination,
differentiation, and hierarchization be regarded as its derivatives? Do processes of antagonism,
confrontations, and struggles among individuals, groups, or classes derive in the last instance from
general processes of war? Can a set of notions derived from strategy and tactics constitute a valid
and adequate instrument for the analysis of power relations?”

5. The Immigration Topology: Escape to Life*

Using new application of his mobile phone, Ahmet Rıfkı types on his mobile phone ‘What is the
shortest route to Turkey?’ and plays this text to his wife. Despite Leyla's opposition, the first step
to escape to Turkey was taken with this sentence, which Ahmet Rıfkı uttered through Obama's free
of charge voice. While people are wondering whether Obama will keep his word for peace in the
country, ironically only Obama's voice in the app is free. Leyla says she can't choose another voice
because she needs a credit card. For her, it is much more important that Ahmet Rıfkı will be able to
communicate through this application.
This is how the story of fleeing begins. The remnants of the horror and destruction experienced
are the moonlight, the scattered corpses, the sights left by the Syrian forces as well as the guerrilla
warfare by Free Syrian Army, ISIS, (or other armed groups). In Deleuze’s (1989, p.xi) words, these
are ”any spaces whatevers, deserted but inhabited, disused warehouses,” and ruined buildings.
”Qualities and powers” writes Deleuze (1986, p.141), ”are no longer displayed in any-space-

* I barrowed this title from Erika and Klaus Mann’s 1939 book, ‘Escape to Life: The Erika and Klaus Mann Story’ which has focused on the
life and ‘culture of the exiled German artists, scholars and political figures during the initial part of Nazi era, before the outbreak of World
War II’ (Wikipedia)
I. Baysal Serim / Knowledge and power relations: In a migration storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive

whatevers, no longer inhabit originary worlds, but are actualized directly in determinate,
geographical, historical and social space-times.”
Thus, while fleeing to Turkey, due to a series of horrible events, the camera, which constantly
tries to pin down the couple in close-ups, now moves even faster than Leyla and Ahmet Rıfkı. When
the camera is in motion in this way, it does not merely follow the movements of the characters or
undertake only the movements of which they are the object, but also subordinates the description Page | 166
of the spaces they pass through to the functions of thought. There is no simple distinction here
between ”subjective and objective”, ”real and imaginary”, on the contrary, ”their on the contrary
their indiscernibility which will endow the camera with a rich array of functions, and entail a new
conception of the frame and reframings” (Deleuze, 1989, p. 23). Concludely, Leyla and Ahmet no
longer know what is ”imaginary or real”, ”physical or mental”. Because there is no place to even
ask anymore.
Indeed the dehumanized landscape of the escape route cannot be better explained than by
Susan Sontag (2002, p.5): ”They show how war evacuates, shatters, breaks apart, levels the built
world. A bomb has torn open the side of a house. To be sure, a cityscape is not made of flesh. Still,
sheared-off buildings are almost as eloquent as body parts.” Time in Flashdrive is certainly as Borges
depicts it in 'The Garden of Forking Paths': ”it is not space but time which forks, 'web of time which
approaches, forks, is cut off or unacknowledged for centuries, embracing every possibility.” * Thus,
in Deleuze (1989, p.125) words, ”the image no longer has space and movement as its primary
characteristics but topology and time.”
Based upon “true” episodes from life, Flashdrive is also able to portray scenes that would be
difficult to film in actuality. For example, the death of many people, the explosion of landmines,
bombardments, children and traffickers trying to cross the border as a result of missiles fired from
a drone following a meeting with the human trafficker, where prospective immigrants, (Ahmet Rıfkı,
Leyla and the others) paid for crossings. All these sequences are shot in a very, convincingly
documentary style. As Homi Bhaba (1992, p.88) reminds us that ”The globe shrinks for those who
own it; for the displaced or the dispossessed, the migrant or refugee; no distance is more awesome
than the few feet across borders or frontiers.”

6. Epilogue : Survival
You can replace your homeland or have none,
but you have always, no matter where, to dwell.
Vilém Flusser
After crossing the dangerous minefield, the border is the starting line for Leyla and Ahmet Rıfkı's
perhaps forever ”out-of-place” will be ”a secure fence with watchtowers” (Bauman, 2008, p.38). In
the sequence that comes after Leyla and Ahmet Rıfkı step under the barbed wire at the border and
set foot on Turkish soil, aerial footage of the refugee camp covers the screen. This is the ”Nizip 2
Container City”, which is built next to the Euphrates River and consists of nearly 1000 prefabricated
container barracks surrounded by double barbed wire fences, guard towers and CCTVs in
the Nizip town of southeastern province of the city of Gaziantep. Like most of the camps in Turkey,
this institutional camp also is located in close proximity to the border.
The camp footages in general make visible a large global community of forcibly displaced people.
These scenes also reveal the governance system and spatial dynamics of the real story behind the
film. The official person Leyla and Ahmet met to start living in the camp is the manager of AFAD
(Government Agency for Disaster Management) * who is responsible from all services and
operational affairs. Together with Ahmet or Leyla, or through the director's eye, we identify the
everyday spaces of the camp. For example, after the Camera detects Ahmet in the clinic room in

*I borrow this anectode from Deleuze’s Time-Image.

*All works at large-scale camp planning, construction and operation projects are managed in coordination with the Turkish Red Crescent
by AFAD, which is directly affiliated with the Prime Ministry.
 Journal of Design for Resilience in Architecture & Planning, 2022, 3(Special Issue): 160-169

the camp, it follows him pass through the unidentified corridors until the exit and drops him back
to the asphalt-textured corridors of the camp. As Liisa Malkki (1995, p.2) writes, “The refugee camp
was a vital device of power [...] Through these processes [of the refugee camp], the modern,
postwar refugee emerged as a knowable, nameable figure and as an object of social-scientific
knowledge.”
Page| 167 Leyla and Ahmet approach the journalists in front of the TV broadcast vehicle standing in a
certain part of the camp and says, ”We have a story on Syria... that might interest you. About the
acts of violence against humanity made by the regime.” Ahmet Rıfkı's facial expression and gestures
while showing a few print-out photographs of the mutilated bodies to them almost bring to mind
Edward Munch's ‘The Scream’ (1893) painting. All the words that had accumulated in his silence
seemed to be expressed in Susan Sontag's (2002) poetic screaming: ”Look, the photographs say,
this is what it’s like. This is what war does. And that, that is what it does, too. War tears, rends. War
rips open, eviscerates. War scorches. War dismembers. War ruins.” The photographs taken by
Ahmet Rıfkı are the windows to the war. He personally witnessed the war and the cruelty of war
with a camera. And as with the true story that forms the background of the film, the flashdrive that
stores 11,000 photos documenting the regime's violence against civilians and opponents is now the
pivotal figure of the storytelling.
Even though we are surrounded by screens of ”nonstop imagery (television, streaming video,
movies)”, ”but when it comes to remembering, photography has a deeper bite” says Sontag (2002).
”Memory freeze frames; its basic unit is a single image” (Sontag, 2002). In an era where power and
knowledge are increasingly isomorphic, Zaim reveals the political influence of photography and film
in storytelling.

7. Conclusion
- They are refugees.
-Yes. As, perhaps, we will become in the future.
Stephen Baxter
Greg Lambert (2002, p.13), tracing Deleuze’s second cinema study, ”The Time Image”, draws
attention to the spatial-temporal traumas after the Second World War: ”We are all survivors; our
memories are stricken by an irretrievable trauma The earth is laid waste by a paralysis of memory
and zones of impossibility: death camps, burned-out cities, atomic sink-holes, summer fields
yielding each year a new harvest of corpses.”
Today, Flashdrive remind us, all we are in refugee camps*, about which millions of stories are
told and which are simultaneously served to every corner of the world via mobile media. Kilian
Kleinschmidt (2016) stated that "refugee camps are the cities of the future" and that "the average
duration of a refugee situation is 17 years". Therefore, refugee camps resemble permanent
settlements rather than temporary settlements. It is expanding. Admittedly, this is the creation of
the ‘spatial states of exception’ that Agamben emphasizes for the design and construction of new
camps: ”places of bare life which are subject to the law but can itself never actively invoke it.”
Hence, developing a notion of human "refugium" from Arendt's work on the ”public sphere”, he
refers to such an aterritorial space. It is with this common sense that Agamben attempts to re-read
Hannah Arendt's (1974) 1943 article, entitled ”We Refugees” in which the situation of refugees
defined 'the vanguard of humanity', after fifty years. According to him, today Arendt's fundamental
insight has been historically proven.
As aforementioned above, Flashdrive passes through a dualism, which corresponds to both
aspects of the Deleuzian ”time-image”: ”a cinema of the body, which puts all the weight of the past
into the body, all the tiredness of the world and modern neurosis; but also, a cinema of the brain,
which reveals the creativity of the world, its colours aroused by a new space-time, its powers
multiplied by artificial brains.” For that reason, the family name of the refugee Turkmen kid,

* At this point, Giorgio Agamben’s

I. Baysal Serim / Knowledge and power relations: In a migration storytelling, Derviş Zaim's Film Flashdrive

Dünyazad* which means ‘world-person’ or ”born of this world”,makes very critical sense here. Also
Remember, Nietzsche’s (1974:338) aphorism 377 titled “We Who are Homeless,” defines migrants
as the “children of the future”: We are unfavourable to all ideals which could make us feel at home
in this frail, broken-down, transition period; and as regards the 'realities' thereof, we do not believe
in their endurance.”
Page | 168
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Resume
Işıl Baysan Serim is a qualified architect and a researcher as well as the founder and editor-in-chief of the
Sinetopya City, Film and Architecture Magazine. She is a part-time lecturer in the Faculty of Architecture at
Bahçeşehir University and Kent University in Istanbul. Her research interests include cinema and architecture,
and transdisciplinary knowledge production in architecture such as social theory, political philosophy,
technology, urbanism and migration. She regularly gives public talks at national and international institutions
and conferences as a film and architecture curator. Işıl was a researcher at Yeditepe University and taught at
Bilgi University and Medipol University.