Performance & Vulnerability
Peter Zumthor & Bijoy Jain in Conversation
16 February 2o24
photo: sukhmani brar
Caution & Introduction
Although Zumthor initiated the conversation, Bijoy took on the responsibility of moderating & sustaining it. He didn’t mind being the fall-guy for this purpose; nudging & pushing himself, Zumthor as well as the conversation, often to points of vulnerability. Attempting to articulate difficult ideas, Bijoy didn’t seem to mind appearing entangled in words. Zumthor, on the other hand, used his seniority well to avoid spots of botheration – even presenting a near-disregard for words. There were occasions where, before disclosing matters which are perhaps very close to his seemingly reserved self, he mentioned, “I have never said this before…” and “I have to be honest…” However, he also chose to express, “… that’s all I have to say!” or “I can’t put it into words…” and jokingly “How long was this talk?”, and even “…I think we should stop the talk…”
Zumthor used humour throughout to help navigate the conversation – not only for himself, but also the audience. In fact, it’s a pattern of performative exchange that both the performer and the audience get caught up in the inertia of a dominant emotion; in this case, humour. Encouraged by the audience reaction, Zumthor was relentless in cracking jokes, while the audience cracked up far too often – even when the matter was earnest.
Against the strong impression of pensiveness that the two individuals carry, it was pleasantly surprising to see Bijoy’s courageous faltering in articulation and Zumthor’s sharp wit.
Intimacy & Handmade
Against the context of his upbringing as an apprentice in his father’s cabinet-making workshop, Zumthor presents his criticism of the sameness of the wooden flooring in the hotel that he’s staying at, which Bijoy refers to as a lack of intimacy. Zumthor proceeds with a question, which establishes the theme for the conversation.
Zumthor: Are we losing something if we give up on handmade buildings?
Perhaps to avoid the convenient label of traditionalism or sentimentalism, Bijoy presents a wonderful interpretation of the “handmade”, bringing potent references of affection, movement, embodiment, diversity & time.
Bijoy: Maybe things are getting obscure. When you ascribe to the hand, what I understand is, “Are we losing our sense of affection?” The only thing that sustains us is this sense of affection. For me, all things created come from this sentiment of affection. That’s how I empathise with this notion of the hand.
In a fantastic leap of imagination, while simultaneously provoking with an allusion to advancing technology and preventing a literal interpretation of handmade, Bijoy asks, “What if we were able to use our eye lashes to construct, let alone the hand?” and then continues without interruption
Buildings have the capacity to move [the inhabitants]…. Hand as a gesture of movement, of caress… something embodied in a material…
I had the good fortune & privilege to work with an old stone craftsman who cut stone for a large part of his 70+ years of life since he was 14 years old. He’d say, “the stone has something to offer of itself, can you observe that? What do you have to offer of yourself to the stone?” It is in this idea of exchange that one can position the idea of handmade. Can we extend this to something machine-made – everything being the same? I think what we are interested in is the idea of diversity.
Although in somewhat agreement of what he considers to be a safer word compared to the complexity/ complicatedness of ‘love’, I do not completely agree with Bijoy that ‘affection’ is a sentiment we exchange. Nevertheless, I am simultaneously delighted with his reference to ‘affection,’ and intrigued by his repeated reference to ‘exchange’. The latter, to me, is a reduction of a relation to transaction. While transactionality may be inevitable and essential even, I feel that one can’t really establish a balance of this exchange in affection and intimacy. I feel that affection, intimacy and love defy easy definitions because they are fleeting momentary experiences. I receive the affection that my friend offers. I provide unconditional accommodation for my lover in distress. I am simply present, listening to my child’s narratives of the world she’s experiencing. The moment one steps out of this presence to account for what and how much was given or taken, the joy of the fleeting experience is lost. Or, perhaps because joy has been lost, so has been presence and therefore emerges the need to measure the transaction.
Values & Principles
Zumthor: It is something beautiful that houses don’t move; they are connected to the ground.
Bijoy: Gravity
Zumthor: So the first word we have is intimacy, then affection…
Bioy: and gravity!
Zumthor: Oh, we have three?! Now we can stop the talk!
While Zumthor has diffused the intensity of these significant words with his joke, I am only counting more: movement, diversity, presence… Zumthor too, however, quickly returns to their significance.
While Zumthor has diffused the intensity of these significant words with his joke, I am only counting more: movement, diversity, presence… Zumthor too, however, quickly returns to their significance.
I have a lot of affection for something which belongs to a place and makes a place. I have a lot of affection for something which has stood for long, which the uncle of my grandfather has also seen. Do you share this feeling?
Bijoy, perhaps in an attempt to shift the conversation from values, which can be elusive in terms of definition, to identifiable principles & methods, asks Zumthor about his Los Angeles County Museum of Art.
Bijoy: It’s been a long journey. What is it… ten years?
Zumthor: Twelve years
Bijoy: So what is it that enables you to maintain… it’s a discipline… through all the multiple, arduous, various physicalities, norms… “This can’t be done! There is a problem with the budget! There is this! There is that!”… You are continuously able to find and navigate the way… it’s choreography… for me, it’s like a dance or making a film… making all the continuous adjustments… As long as one maintains that rigour & discipline, things will emerge. The strength lies in what you do; maybe you should talk about that.
Zumthor: That’s true. I’ve had a great profession! I like it and it helps a lot when I wake up in the morning. It’s always also a lot of problems. So it’s not just beautiful designs and artistic work. It’s following through to the goal of a good building.
I have realised that it is easy for me – you know, it’s the first time that I am saying this, but I have to be honest [laughs] – I have always said I have no problem building all over the world, but I like places which are easy for me to understand. When I look back at my work, I can see that the ideas that have arrived quickly are in places that I know by heart.
So LA was difficult. I didn’t have may things that I am used to. At many many levels, the stakes were high. I had many sleepless nights for many things… but the answer is I am under it. I am going through and I want to succeed. I have a lot of good people to help… in the office… sometimes they hate me, but they help me a lot… my family… they endure a lot… and now I have good clients… I try to select good clients.
I guess that is a pragmatic answer.
Bijoy: Yeah! What I want to share with everyone is that the road is arduous, no matter what! When you see from a distance [it may seem like] ‘Oh, you can do what you want to do or make things that you like to make.’ [But] it’s about sharing a certain integrity.
Initiating the conversation, Zumthor expressed his excitement in accommodating the concreting team’s mistakes as part of the process saying “sculptures are not mended!”. He emphasises on the significance of this dimension of his work, particularly of making the concreting team’s work visible and experiential; perhaps for the first time ever for them, against the general practice of always being cloaked behind some kind of cladding material.
Bringing back Zumthor’s conversation-starter about a “connection to time, to our ancestors,” Bijoy articulates another mystical aphorism:
It’s not just about the past, but also potential futures that it continues to embody.
While adding the disclaimer, “I don’t want to be flattering,” Bijoy sums up with, “It’s easy to give in… [however] being resilient, accommodating, absorbing, understanding and saying, ‘I can find another way!’ you’re able to maintain a centre of gravity.’ Reflecting upon his way of working, Zumthor wanders into what he is.
Zumthor: That’s right, it’s a bit flattering. There is a bit of truth in it. But I’d also like to say, observing myself, sometimes I ask my children, “Did you have a good youth with me?” They say, “It was OK…”
Bijoy: It’s a life well lived!
Zumthor: I see that my children, who are parents themselves, spend much more quality time with my grandchildren, which is good…
but I am not regretting… that is me!
Bijoy: It’s a great gift to know your calling. We do the things we do to be in dialogue. Do you share this sentiment?
Bijoy alludes to Louis Kahn’s legendary remark to B.V. Doshi on Corbusier’s demise, “Who am I going to build for now?”
Zumthor: I went to Corbusier’s office in Paris… I heard from people who had worked with him… I saw these drawings – one-to-one of the handrail and other things… I think he would’ve been my friend. I can feel… it’s the same interests.
It is not [just] a line on the plan… you have to look at this line… transposed to music.. Architecture. I always want to know how this thing looks… the material… the light and so on… and when I go look at the building, it’s better than what I [had] imagined.
Bijoy: Exactly!
Presence & Intuition
Zumthor seems surprised that Bijoy recognises the feeling of finding the building better than imagined; he proceeds to ask his next project, “Where in your life are you now?”
Bijoy: If I tune into what I’ve been doing over the years, it’s about movement… choreography. I am not interested much in the result. The process for me is the building and I don’t mean ‘process’ in [terms] of getting to a point. I am talking about ‘process’ as choreography. Architecture has the capacity to be dance-like or in [a state of] dance… the movement of people, material, things. I am more tuned to writing that script… kind of like making a film… when it all collectively comes together… you get a response.
Bijoy proceeds to compare his practice to the riyaz of a performer who is inhabiting a space before it has been created. “There is neither construction, nor debris, no site.” he says; for him it is about the dialogue – feeling, touching, smelling… it is about inhabiting and “from that whatever architecture comes out… comes out!”
Zumthor: I don’t understand… something comes out of it which you have never imagined before… what is the resulting architecture… the product?
Bijoy: It is complete in its incompleteness and incomplete in its completeness…
Zumthor’s prodding appears to have pushed Bijoy into articulating something which is perhaps inarticulable. Maybe realising the instability of the ground he’s attempting to tread, Bijoy tries to swerve the conversation, “I remember asking you many years ago if you are sure about what you’re building.” As expected from a veteran, Zumthor drop-shots it back into Bijoy’s court, “What did I say?”
Bijoy: You said something to the effect that after it’s complete you have to live with it, but you also left it open saying that you reflect upon it.
Zumthor puts it as a ‘human thing’ – the mystery or secret of something turning out well or being happy to “see something turn out better than something I had thought.” Bijoy doesn’t seem satisfied with what hasn’t been said. He keeps the spotlight on Zumthor with, “We’re all in pursuit of the enigmatic, but this pursuit is also about unravelling something latent inside you. How do you do that when you make a building?
Zumthor: We never ever talk about that; it may be in the background; you may call it esoteric.
Well, there is good art, there is good music and there is also good architecture. That is all I have to say.
This indefinite definition gets the Indian audience to cheer out loud. After all – educated or not – we’re all brought up on mysticism!
Bijoy: ‘Good’ is a relative term, when we are judging something. I think what I want to allude to is the word ‘present’ or ‘presence’… when you say ‘good,’ I think of it as being ‘present.’
Zumthor: When I say ‘good architecture,’ this is kitchen-table talk. OK, so at home we understand what ‘good architecture’ means.
Bijoy is relentless and continues to seek out a definition, “we can imagine ourselves to be in the kitchen.” But the veteran is too skilled to let himself get entangled where he doesn’t want to be.
Zumthor: ‘Presence’ is a very important word for me too. Can you tell me what ‘presence’ is? I can feel it but can’t put it in words.
Bijoy doesn’t want to pursue the line any further and closes it with, “I only said it because ‘good’ is often misunderstood as a ‘style’…” and he shifts to another interesting dimension of the design process; although I am fascinated that Bijoy refrains from using the word ‘design’. Perhaps the only time he used the word, he explicitly ‘took it back.’ He seems to prefer the words ‘doing’, ‘making’ & ‘building’ instead.
Bijoy: Being an architect, doing the kind of work that you do, do you write? Because, drawings are notations, models are notations; do you write in some kind of anticipation in your discipline, in your trajectory in order to stay ahead of the curve?
Zumthor: It could be a beautiful Saturday morning, when I haven’t had too much to drink the previous night. All of a sudden alone there and all of a sudden there is an idea. Sometimes you have to wait a long time. I don’t know where the idea comes from, but I recognise it…I sit down… I make a line out of it. That to me is the most beautiful thing – that you have an intuition… a gift… and then a long process of three, four, five, seven or ten years… I have to bring this to words… but words are either promising or limited where emotions are involved. I have to check with my emotions… ‘What is this?’ and give some blah, blah blah… scholarly or academic answers about what I am doing. If I am not sure, I talk to my collaborators and ask them if it makes sense. This thing you call writing, happens all the time… up till the end.
Many, many times I’ve said, “I have it!”
Bijoy: Do you have it?
Zumthor: Nobody believes it [because] three weeks later I’ve changed it.
Emotions & Embodiment
Bijoy has picked up yet another opening to peep into the master’s method. Bringing back the reference to the ‘hand’ with a beautiful anecdote, he attempts to pry open the armour guarding the vulnerable self on a public platform; hesitating but not shying away from leading by example, amidst a funny banter with Zumthor, which helps offer a light build-up to an earnest matter.
Bijoy: Coming back to our earlier discussion about mechanistic VS the hand[made], the hand has the ability to express movement and emotions. For instance, you’re walking your little girl across the street; just then a car is approaching and she instinctively grasps hard at your finger that she’s been holding.
When you observe your emotions, where do you feel them? For me its’… maybe I shouldn’t say it…
Zumthor: What were you going to say?
Bijoy: Questions first…
Zumthor: Say it, C’mon! Don’t be shy…
Bijoy: I am not shy at all. I want to know from you because you talked about emotions. It’s not so much about clarity, since three weeks later you’ve changed it anyway; but at that moment in time there is this gravitas… where do you feel it in your body, which allows you to say, ‘Yes! This is Good!’?
Zumthor: I am mostly sure that this is not the solution, but it grows on me. I don’t admit it. Sometimes I don’t even know where it’s wrong. When do I feel that it’s right? Maybe when negative things don’t come up anymore in the morning, when I take a shower. Sometimes it’s the opposite, “Shit! This is going to be good!” There’s an assertion…
Bijoy: There is a sense, right?… that this is going to be OK…
Zumthor: It’s not a mystery… but it’s not as exciting as what you were going to say.
Bijoy: No, it’s not that far, actually. There is a sense of detachment, that’s when you’re set free. For me, I send it down to my belly-button… does it feel right? I am using my body as a measure… I send it down and see if it sits well…
Zumthor: I do the opposite – when it’s not yet right, I feel it here [pointing to his abdomen].
Bijoy: It’s the same thing!
Zumthor: Is it? Now we’re getting brilliant!
Perhaps releasing that his sarcasm may have been far too sharp, Zumthor apologises and proceeds to draw the conversation to a close by saying, “How long was this talk?”
The following Q&A consisted of a couple of poorly articulated questions with their larger portion expressing pomp in one and frustration in the other. Nevertheless, there’s more than one reason to rejoice both poor articulation as well as questions. I believe that no matter how silly the question sounds, many among the learners have something similar to ask. So the responder should treat every question with due respect and a curious responder will always articulate an insightful response. Secondly, I have begun to be envious of the inarticulate since I realise that they live and move among the affectionate and don’t necessarily need the sharpness of their lonely minds to chisel the blade of their language.
The first question, in effect, sought to know as to how does one design in a city, which seems to have no sense of character or place. It felt pompous – yes, more vain than my critical commentary on a public conversation between two industry stalwarts – because of both the elaborate self-introduction as well as the assumption that cities have no character. Perhaps this gentleman missed Zumthor’s point about working in places that he’s familiar with. I must admit, however, that I do agree with the lack of character to some degree. It has often occurred to me that maybe due to a night of heavy drinking, were I to wake up without any bearings in the outskirts of Gurugram or Ahmedabad, I actually wouldn’t be able to tell the difference because both and most other cities suffer from an indifferent developer-led poor growth. However, that’s where familiarity comes into play – to know a place is not just about information, but mostly about a sense of belonging. It’s more than the physical markers which can be replicated – in abstraction or literally.
The other question was something about history, as to how and how much of it can be incorporated into one’s design. Zumthor replied with humour and pragmatism that, “you’ll have to work in my office for ten years to learn that.” BIjoy, on the other hand, threw in another mystic phrase, something to the effect that ‘design is as much about anticipating the past as it is about anticipating the future.’ Zumthor appreciated it and repeated, “anticipating the past…”Although I haven’t understood its implication, I love the thought.
Perhaps the problem occurs when history is approached as one, a chronology of events, which can be misleading, or two, to grasp its totality, which can be daunting, if not impossible. History became less intimidating to me when I approached it with an interest for an individual or a building or one event and then pursued the various strands that emerged. Of course, you’ll be confronted by questions of how much and how long with the strands as well. However, when the fuel of the pursuit is curiosity, the task isn’t laborious and the logistics can be answered matter of factly with ‘as long and as much as possible within the available time frame’. The frame becomes critical here, not only as a strategic tool, but also in terms of placing oneself within a context to gain perspective and then also shifting oneself and the frame to draw multiple perspectives.
Perhaps both questions suffer from the trauma of an individual trying to make sense of the city or of history all alone. Symptomatic of modern alienation, which, I think, the 20th century was all about. However, neither the city, nor history is an individual’s doing; so it doesn’t make sense to try and make sense of it all alone. It may be more helpful, and playful even, if we employ simple tools of frames and conversations to make the learnings more diverse and robust. In fact, I was surprised to find no direct reference throughout the conversation to one of my favourite themes – community. Of course, it was in the background, as there is no purpose to intimacy, affection, presence, choreography, place, time, diversity and even building without community, but there was no direct mention of it. Well, I guess, if it were a conversation between, let’s say, Anna Heringer and Laurie Baker, one would perhaps find repeated references to communities and how they influence the architectural process.
Another fascinating aspect, related to the sense of self emanates from Bijoy & Zumthor’s exchange around ‘Where do you feel your emotions?’ While Zumthor says, “…things come up…”, Bijoy says, “I send it down…” Of course, they confirm the proverbial ‘gut feeling’ – the visceral seat of emotions; however, the ‘coming up’ & ‘sending down’ – notwithstanding our sense of up & down from being bipeds – suggests that the seat of the self is the mind, residing in the head. This came as a surprise to me, considering how much emphasis both architects lay on the body, materiality and making. Nonetheless, the surprise wanes as one realises that the modern training in and profession of architecture is an intellect driven specialisation of the individual. While the supremacy of the intellect can perhaps be traced back to the European Renaissance, ‘individuality’ is perhaps more specifically an industrial phenomenon. I wonder where the sense of self is located or if there is an idea of individuality in primarily agrarian or tribal communities. Oral traditions have/ had a diffused sense of authorship compared to script-based societies, which mandate or perpetuate intellectual copyright.
This firework of questions in my head is abruptly doused by the realisation that were it a society based on communal & oral traditions, there perhaps wouldn’t have been an occasion to throng to a conversation between a ‘star’ & a ‘superstar’.
Complaints & Compliance
Before the conversation began, standing outside the closed doors with no elbow room or fresh air, I was reminded of my childhood trips to temples with the family. Waiting against the neverending delay in starting the event, I had to bring back the dictum that helped us survive those arduous unintended pilgrimages: “Endure this struggle and you shall be blessed!”
Once we gained access to the auditorium, I got lucky to find a young friend who gave up his seat for me. Fortunately I was relieved of the gnawing guilt when he got to sit in one of the front rows when the organisers threw open the VIP cordon to accommodate the swelling crowds. This again reinforced another dictum which I was brought up on: “Do good and good will be done unto you!” Many, including senior practitioners, weren’t as fortunate and remained standing-audience throughout the hour-long conversation – which wouldn’t have been much except for the two hours of wait earlier.
The organisers had really underestimated the significance of this event: C’mon! It’s Bijoy & Zumthor chatting up in public! While it may be an interesting idea to access an event venue through an exhibition of artefacts, there is a whole lot that needs to be addressed while actualising this idea. To begin with, the exhibition needs to be put up well. No amount of shoddily wrapped jute cloth can disguise lack of care and inadequate spending into anything else. Nevermind the aesthetic, the most important logistical component is the management of crowd & time, which necessitate intelligent estimation. The organisers seemed to be off with any assessment of both: the event was unreasonably delayed and crowds ended up blocking access to both the exhibition as well as the talk venue.
Throughout the three hours of waiting for and through the conversation I couldn’t rid myself of the dread of ending up as a statistical number in the casualties resulting from a fire and stampede at a public event with aisle and doorways clogged with people.
Nevertheless all the struggles were paid off with a wonderful conversation without any adverse incident, except the untimely guffaws from the audience.