The Me&ning of Proportion: Terr&nce G&lvin

by Rich(rd Whitt(ker, Sep 18, 2000

 
I met Terr(nce G(lvin (t O(kl(nd M(yor Jerry Brownʼs symposium, The O'kl'nd
T'ble, in September 2000. The topic of the first symposium w(s "sp(ce versus
pl(ce" (nd (ddressed questions (bout the distinction between ( sense of pl(ce
(nd the merely (bstr(ct ide( of sp(ce. Specific(lly, how did this distinction pl(y
out in urb(n pl(nning? The two result in very different urb(nsc(pes. 
     During 1988, G(lvin lived (nd worked in Vill( El S(lv(dor, ( low-income
residenti(l district on the southern outskirts of Lim(, ( sh(ntytown popul(ted by
immigr(nt f(milies who h(d left the Peruvi(n highl(nds during intense (ctivity by
the Sendero Luminoso. This w(s the first of G(lvinʼs m(ny form(tive experiences
in (rchitecture from the ground up, (nd led to further experiences with community
groups in Indi(, Th(il(nd, (nd the Middle E(st.
     Further study (nd experience led to his interest in proportion(lity—p(rticul(rly
in terms of its rel(tionship with h(rmony (nd sens(tion (s understood in e(rlier
periods, (nd mostly lost in the w(ke of the (dv(nce of modernism.
      G(lvin is (n (rchitect living in Montre(l. At the time of this interview, he w(s
te(ching (t McGill University (nd D(lhousie University. We got together (t my
home in O(kl(nd to t(lk.

Rich&rd Whitt&ker:  First, would you tell us ' little bit 'bout your work?

Terr&nce G&lvin:  I w's tr'ined 's 'n 'rchitect 't three schools in C'n'd'. In
1987 I h'd ' ch'nce to go with ' group th't w's invited to Vill' El S'lv'dor—John
Turner h'd been there in the 1950s—'nd I re'lized th't very few of the things 'nd
'ssumptions Iʼd m'de in design school were re'lly going to be of 'ny help in th't
situ'tion.

RW:  Where w's this 'g'in?

TG:  Outside of Lim', in the l'rgest squ'tter town in Peru. They were extremely
org'nized, h'ving broken themselves down into groups, neighborhoods 'nd
sm'ller clusters even though there were 350,000 people living in this squ'tter
town 't th't time. They h'd t'ken over l'nd in the desert th't w's not p'rt of the
municip'lity of Lim', 'nd so they h'd no form'l 'ccess to services like electricity
'nd w'ter.
     Th't whole "inform'l sector," 's itʼs c'lled, tends not to be recognized by
governments 'nd tends not to be t'ught 'bout in schools of 'rchitecture. R'ther
it tends to be seen 's ' problem 't municip'l or university levels. But in these
unrecognized settlements, where people h've been m'rgin'lized, pushed out, or
impoverished in some w'y, people do t'ke 'ction. The will of the people to get
org'nized is re'lly something which m'de sense to me 'nd w's something I
w'nted to look into more 'nd more.

RW:  This w's something you first s'w in Vill' El S'lv'dor?

TG:  Yes. And it w's my first experience of being invited not knowing ex'ctly wh't
we would do. Yet the people who invited us were very open to discussing how
such ' settlement could be worked on together.
     In Lim' the people just h'd these sm'll sheets of str'w c'lled ester( th't
would become their first shelter when bent over. If they h'd two, they would bend
them 'cross e'ch other 'nd reinforce them with pieces of wood or reinforcement
b'r. It w's the most b'sic element of shelter, like the kinds of things children build
when they 're pl'ying in b'cky'rds. But when people 're building them in
impoverished 're's whereʼs thereʼs no sew'ge, no electricity, no services, itʼs
incredibly critic'l.
     They 'sked us to help build ' pl'ce th't could be ' community g'thering h'll.
We h'd the funding for something we could build together, 'nd needed ' meeting
pl'ce. Th't s'me meeting pl'ce could 'lso be ' school since they mixed the
children from different 'ge groups together in their neighborhood.
     As I spent time there, I c'me to re'lize th't even though they h'd been
m'rgin'lized, still, they knew ' lot 'bout wh't they w'nted to build. The problem
w's th't they h'd few resources. On the other h'nd, they h'd 'll these
presumptions th't h'd come from glob'l modern influences. So the first six
months we met, our discussions centered 'round, "wh't kind of houses 'nd wh't
kind of buildings do you think would work with the w'y youʼve understood
tr'dition?" Inevit'bly they would s'y, we w'nt brick, we w'nt concrete, bec'use
th'tʼs wh't youʼve got where you live.
     Eventu'lly we chose to look 't ' m'teri'l Iʼd he'rd 'bout c'lled quinch(. Itʼs
m'de from cut b'mboo which is then covered very lightly with mud, with less th'n
one h'lf inch. It uses very little w'ter, unlike 'dobe, which needs ' lot of w'ter to
cre'te. So with this m'teri'l, quinch', theyʼve been 'ble to build be'utiful,
'ppropri'te, well-fitting buildings 'll over Peru including Lim' c'thedr'l.
     One of the p'r'doxes is th't while development often still tre'ts people 's
primitive, the squ'tters w'nted modern progress including things like c'rs 'nd
television…

RW:  They 'll h'd television? Or they w'nted to h've them?

TG:  Most people we s'w, even though ' f'mily of four or five might live in ' house
eight by eight feet, the m'jority of people h'd televisions 'lre'dy, 'nd 'lso, the
m'jority h'd c'rs. Th'tʼs 'nother neg'tive spin-off of urb'n migr'tion where
people come tow'rd the city but 're pushed to the edges in squ'tter towns.
People gener'lly couldnʼt 'fford to move into Lim' 'nd live there, but th't is
where they worked. So most times they f'ced ' two to three hour commute e'ch
w'y. You c'n see they would need ' c'r, or they would t'ke ' series of buses.
     In Indi' the settlement p'ttern is very different. For complex re'sons Indi'n
people who 're forced into squ'lor situ'tions donʼt commute th't s'me length of
time. They just refuse to, 'nd so they squ't much closer to where they work. But
in Peru these huge commutes were 'n est'blished thing. So people would work
twelve hours ' d'y 'nd commute 'n 'ddition'l two to three hours e'ch w'y. The
entire premise th't moving to the city will be 'n improvement, th't It will embody
progress, is re'lly wrong. Those who go to the city w'nt to be 'ble to send money
home 'nd eventu'lly be 'ble to return home. Th'tʼs the dre'm.
     This is 'lso where it ties into the concept of pl'ce, of moving b'ck to the
vill'ge they c'me from. Itʼs re'lly

 the const'nt theme of people who 're displ'ced through migr'tion. Itʼs
somewh't connected to the p'r'digm of the g'rden of Eden, this desire to go
home, to return to Eden. They 'll thought they would eventu'lly s've enough
money to move b'ck home, but in m'ny c'ses people h'd 'lre'dy been there
twenty to twenty-five ye'rs.

RW:  Tell me 'g'in how it w's you got there?

TG:  I h've ' friend 'nd professor, Essy B'ni'ss'd, in H'lif'x, Nov' Scoti' who
h'd met 'n engineer doing seismic testing in Lim'. The engineer h'd been 'sked
m'ny times by these people to help them get more est'blished on the l'nd. He
knew ' lot 'bout seismic m'tters but understood he didnʼt know much 'bout
these other questions, 'nd so he t'lked with this professor who then invited me
'nd three or four others to spend three ye'rs in Vill' El S'lv'dor. I spent the first
ye'r studying the question of wh't is 'ppropri'te. Wh't is good fit? Wh't m'kes
sense? But the people in this community h'd 'bsorbed 'll the myths 'nd im'ges
'bout progress 'nd technology. We were s'ying th't m'ybe there were
technologies they h'd 'lre'dy used before 'nd might w'nt to look 't 'g'in. There
w's gre't resist'nce to th't, 't le'st for the first six months.

RW:  Of course television would be ' conduit piping in 'll the "Western Good," 's
'dvertised.

TG:  Yes. This would be Iv'n Illichʼs point—th't by then consumerism w's fully
supporting ' set of ide's th't dr'w people 'w'y from pl'ce. And so they h'd 'n
im'ge th't bec'use we were from C'n'd', in this c'se, th't we 'll h'd two c'rs
'nd two televisions 'nd 'll the rest of it.

RW:  So when you went there you 'lre'dy h'd come to some of the ide's, s'y, the
ide's of Iv'n Illich, which would guide your 'ppro'ch in ' p'rticul'r direction?

TG:  It w's ' combin'tion of influences, including Illichʼs critique of development

'nd John Turnerʼs work, Housing By People. The w'y 'rchitecture schools in
North Americ' 're still run, l'rgely, thereʼs the te'ching of western history, but not
much 'bout other cultures. Courses 're 'lso structured in ' top-down w'y
including the w'y people study cl'ssic'l tr'dition, or think they do. Thereʼs not
much in the w'y of connecting 'ny of th't with experience.
     We cert'inly never h'd ' course, for inst'nce, 'bout the Indi'n sense of sp'ce
in ' Hindu temple, let 'lone 'ny courses 'bout the dwellings of indigenous
peoples 's, for inst'nce, the long houses of the Moh'wk in C'n'd'. But 's p'rt of
my own educ'tion, I'd re'd books such 's Deschooling Society'nd Tools for
Convivi(lity by Iv'n Illich.
     In going to Peru, I encountered these issues he'd-on with ' community of
people who were extremely well org'nized, extremely politicized, 'nd who w'nted
' better life for their f'milies. The me'ns by which they thought they would get to
th't sense of pl'ce 'nd dwelling however, were still very much under the influence
of the modern western p'r'digm. Our group w's thinking in 'nother direction.
     And here we 're now, fifteen ye'rs l'ter 't this symposium, "The O'kl'nd
T'ble," where weʼre discussing m'ny of these s'me issues: wh't does it me'n to
spe'k of 'ppropri'te technology? Wh't is good fit? In ' community, how do you
work together 'nd en'ble yourselves to do things? Bec'use, in the end, the
common theme everywhere Iʼve tr'veled 'nd lived is th't the sense of dwelling
h's so much more to do with well-being 'nd h'rmony th'n it does with just
providing ' shelter. In French the term bien-être expresses well being. But 'll the
pl'nning 'nd development progr'ms Iʼd ever encountered tre'ted housing simply
's ' commodity.
     John Turner turned th't 'round in s'ying, "housing is ' verb"—implying th't to
dwell involves ' process th't goes f'r beyond just physic'l shelter. Th't m'de '
lot of sense to me, especi'lly bec'use Iʼd seen m'ny, m'ny miser'ble projects
where government 'fter government, or 'gencies like the world b'nk, would
intervene by fin'ncing 'nd building shelter for people, while m'king something
more 'kin to ' milit'ry or refugee c'mp. We see th't now with Kosovo. The tent
city is there only in emergency situ'tions, but often they end up becoming
perm'nent, such 's those refugee c'mps in P'lestine.

RW:  And you were in Vill' El S'lv'dor for three ye'rs?

TG:  The project h'd funding for three ye'rs. I w's there for one ye'r. It w's 'n
extreme politic'l time bec'use during th't ye'r the Sendero Luminoso, the
Shining P'th terrorists, were 'lso extremely 'ctive 'nd destructive. Almost
everyone Iʼd met h'd fled from ' vill'ge bec'use the Sendero Luminoso w's going
into sm'll vill'ges 'nd m'ss'cring people 'nd destroying women 'nd childrenʼs
lives.

RW:  Youʼve s'id the people in this squ'tter town were very well org'nized. Th't
surprises me. Iʼve never thought 'bout it, but I see Iʼve got 'n unex'mined
'ssumption there, since Iʼm surprised. Wh't 'bout this org'niz'tion?

TG:  L'st night I w's just spe'king with John Turner [' p'rticip'nt in the
symposium] 'bout this issue. In ' w'y, Turner h'd freed himself to see. Le
Corbusier h'd ' phr'se, "des yeux qui ne voient p's" (the eyes which do not see)
—we 'll m'ke 'ssumptions th't we see, or know, or underst'nd something. Turner
got beyond th't.
     I think wh't I sh're with Turner 'nd Illich 'nd m'ny others, is th't one h's to
question cert'inties 's well 's oneself. Wh't does it me'n to be re'lly eng'ged
'nd to underst'nd something, r'ther th'n to think youʼve seen it? Lee [ Hoin'cki ]
brought up the ex'mple of television the other night. He s'id, you think youʼve
seen something, but youʼve only seen 'n im'ge, you h'venʼt re'lly seen 'nyone,
nor h've you experienced 'nything in 'ny concrete w'y.
     So, 't first gl'nce, people think ' squ'tter town or ' sh'nty pl'ce is just ' kind
of disorg'nized, ch'otic mess. Th't 'ssumption then le'ds to methods of
pl'nning 'nd development. Individu'ls 'nd communities 're then put into sh'pe
'nd org'nized in terms which h've nothing to do with the w'y people 'ctu'lly
dwell 'nd org'nize themselves. I would s'y the two 'ppro'ches 're re'lly
fund'ment'lly opposite.
     In every pl'ce Iʼve been there is ' sense of order bec'use—'nd coming b'ck
to this question of proportion'lity—order 'nd proportion'lity 're re'lly very
rel'ted. The principle of ordering something is 'bout proportion. This is '
cl'ssic'l underst'nding of the term, proportio. Every 'ct of dwelling Iʼve
experienced h's to do with some profound underlying principle of order. We used
to spe'k of "cosmic order." In extreme conditions like those in sh'nty towns itʼs 'n
order of necessity.
     But the w'y people tre't wh't they need, 'nd the w'y they see th't
developing, 's I s'y, is fund'ment'lly different from the w'y developers 'nd
pl'nners see th't s'me process. They donʼt re'lly underst'nd it 's ' process.
Well, John Turner c'me 'long—'nd there 're m'ny others—'nd he w's sensitive
in th't p'rticul'r pl'ce in Lim' 'nd s'w the w'y people h'd been 'rr'nging
themselves 'nd their belongings.
     Hereʼs ' concrete ex'mple: first someone would m'rk off ' territory by m'king
' w'll 'round it. Th't would be the first gesture if the resources were 'v'il'ble.
Then they might build ' piece of ' house with the m'teri'ls 'v'il'ble. Then the
next person would come 'long 'nd m'rk out 'n 're' by m'king ' w'll next to it.
But there would be ' rel'tionship in how this w's done, 'nd eventu'lly more
people m'rk out pl'ces 'nd there is the beginning of ' street. Even in ' sh'nty
town there is ' sense of inside dwelling sp'ce 'nd outside sh'red sp'ce, public
sp'ce. This h'd more to do with commun'l sp'ce th'n just cre'ting ' property
line. If they eventu'lly h'd thirty or forty houses, 'nd th't little sp'ce of the street
bec'me too long, then they would le've 'n 're' open where the children could
pl'y, 'nd where they could meet. Thereʼs ' sense of dwelling th't runs 't this
deep level which I think exists in 'll 'cts of pl'ce m'king. It reflects 'n essenti'l
'spect of hum'n n'ture.

RW:  Wh't one sees then, if one c(n see it, is th't order 'ppe'rs n'tur'lly from
something present 't ' deep level, or out of necessity. Is th't wh't youʼre s'ying?

TG:  Yes. But "necessity" in the sense of well-being r'ther th'n just putting ' roof
over your he'd. In most cosmogonies 'nd cre'tion myths, the world is first empty,
ch'os, 'nd out of th't the divine source produces some world 'nd divides it.
Wh't w's ch'os 'nd formless is brought into form 'nd order. In Pl'toʼs Tim(eus,
for inst'nce, the world soul 'ppe'rs in the symbolic form of ' circle. As the world
soul is divided, 'ccording to proportion, the sky is sep'r'ted from the e'rth, the
w'ters cre'ted, 'nd the world divided in terms of the principle of order which
would extend from the m'cro sc'le through the micro sc'le.
     To s'y th't something like th't s'me principle is 't work in ' squ'tter town 't
first seems odd. Bure'ucr'ts c'n not see the order which does exist there. They
only see "disorder," 'nd they w'nt to get rid of it. The squ'tters 're on illeg'l l'nd
'nyw'y, they donʼt h've l'nd tenure. We could spe'k 'bout the homeless in m'ny
countries, including North Americ', 'nd how when we dep'rt from ' deep
underst'nding of wh't order is 's ' principle of well-being, we end up with the
problems you 'nd I see every d'y.

RW:  And so you s'w evidence of wh't youʼre describing in the squ'tter town
outside of Lim'.

TG:  Yes. Bec'use there would be inv'sions of up to five hundred people coming
in overnight. And 't first, those little bent over str'w shelters would look like they
just c'me out of the blue. First people est'blish territory, but 'fter ' ye'r, or 'fter
three or five ye'rs, there is ' sense of community t'king sh'pe 'nd one c'n see
this underlying principle 's ' desire for order.
     We 'll dwell in such ' m'nner. For inst'nce, you move into ' pl'ce, you h'ng
'rt, put ' t'ble 't the window 'nd sit 'round the t'ble together 's we 're doing
here. I think these kinds of things 're re'lly the origin'l principles of dwelling 's
they rel'te to 'rchitecture.

RW:  Youʼve found ' centr'l interest in the ide' of proportion. The first definition I
found in my Websterʼs for the word proportion is simply the rel'tionship of the
p'rt to the whole. As such, itʼs ' neutr'l term. You could h've something ' million
feet long, 'nd between one inch of it there would be ' proportion. But 'm I right in
thinking th't this would be 'n in'dequ'te definition in the sense you w'nt to
consider proportion?

TG:  Absolutely. When I refer to loss of proportion'lity in 'rchitecture itʼs not to be

cynic'l. If you look up the diction'ry definition it doesnʼt h've the s'me me'ning
's it would h've h'd two hundred ye'rs 'go, five hundred ye'rs 'go, or one
thous'nd ye'rs 'go. Th't very pl'ce of beginning is the very s'me 's questioning
the 'ssumptions of wh't I w's going to do in Peru. It is simil'r to looking up '
word now 'nd seeing its modern use.
     So if we s'y th't proportion is simply the rel'tionship of the p'rt to the whole,
'nd then we look 't the picturesque English g'rden, for inst'nce, it h's little to do
with the tr'dition of proportion. A concept of proportion, unity within multiplicity
they would s'y, w's the underlying theme right through the Enlightenment, ' sort
of motto for the Enlightenment 'bout the rel'tionship of the p'rt to the whole.
     The modern definition doesnʼt re'lly help us underst'nd wh't is good bec'use,
's you s'y, ' p'rt in rel'tion to 'nother doesnʼt yet re'lly spe'k 'bout wh't the
proportion'l rel'tionship is. If I look deeper into the me'ning of the
word, proportio, it h's to do with two things in rel'tion to e'ch other, being
comp'red to two other things 'lso in rel'tion to e'ch other. Those two sets of
things c'n be spoken 'bout commensur'bly. And in the w'y I would like to spe'k
'bout proportion with this group in O'kl'nd, there w's 'lw'ys ' rel'tionship
between the hum'n me'sure 'nd the me'sure of the cosmos.
RW:  So youʼre spe'king not just 'bout 'n 'bstr'ct principle of the rel'tionship of
the p'rt to the whole which could be 'nything, but r'ther to specific kinds of
rel'tionships of the p'rts to the whole which in f'ct 're benefici'l, h'rmonious, or
in some w'y, good for us 's hum'ns.

TG:  Yes. Across time there h's been ' very deep rel'tionship between the hum'n
me'sure derived from the hum'n body 'nd the me'sure of pl'ce. In m'ny
cultures divine proportion is still present. An Indi'n temple is not just '
geometric'l figure, itʼs 'n em'n'tion of the cosmos, 'n (xis mundi. It h's to do
with the world (xis bec'use the temple is still ' reflection of the order of the
cosmos. Now to t'lk 'bout th't in contempor'ry terms, if we were to look 't '
squ'tter town in Peru or ' community in O'kl'nd—how could we underst'nd this
in contempor'ry terms?—There is no simple 'nswer for th't, but the question
needs to be ex'mined.
     Th'tʼs why weʼre meeting with ' group like this, 'nd t'lking 'bout the recovery
of pl'ce 'nd the necessity of commons. Loss of pl'ce is one 'spect of the loss of
' sense of proportion'lity, of which we could cite m'ny ex'mples…

RW:  Could you cite ' few ex'mples then?

TG:  We find Luc' P'cioli writing Divin( Proportione in 1509 'nd h'ving his friend,
Leon'rdo d' Vinci, do the sketches for th't tre'tise—'n ex'mple of proportion 's
' commensur'te rel'tionship between two sets of things which could be
comp'red. If I look to Alberti who wrote the tre'tise De Re Aedific(tori( in the
mid-fifteenth century, one sees the sense of 'n'logy w's 'lre'dy there since, in
his title the word "edific'tion" not only me'nt building 'n edifice, but 'lso
edific'tion for the soul. So the rel'tion between the 'ct of building, 'nd wh't
Joseph Rykwert would c'll the 'rt of building, h's 'lw'ys h'd within it these
underlying principles of order.
     In Alberti, the w'y ' w'll is composed, the distribution of the elements of ' w'll
're not just component p'rts th't c'n be t'ken out 'nd removed, theyʼre p'rt of '
set of rel'tionships in proportion. This 'pplies to the whole building, 'nd 'lso to
the entire town. Alberti would use the L'tin, concinnit(s, me'ning "good
'djustment." Vitruvius would h've spoken 'bout the s'me ide' using the
term, eurythmy, ' rhythm in the rel'tionship between the p'rts 'nd the whole in
terms of good fit. The underlying principle in both concepts is still good fit.
     By the nineteenth century you c'n h'rdly cite 'ny ex'mples of the word,
"proportion" in 'rchitectur'l tre'tises. The word gets lost 's ' bre'k in tr'dition
occurs.

RW:  So then we h've the loss of the l'ngu'ge, but c'n you tell me from your own
experience, how does th't pl'y out in ' concrete w'y in the world? Would you be
prep'red to 'rgue, for inst'nce, th't when the l'ngu'ge w's in pl'ce, th't the
buildings in ' very re'l w'y somehow reflected something connected to th't
l'ngu'ge? Th't the buildings, in f'ct, were good for the soul, if you will.

TG:  A difficulty with the notion of ' concept is th't l'ngu'ge is ' repository of the
memory of wh't things me'n. So to look 'cross time to see the w'y v'rious
individu'ls used ' word like proportion helps me then underst'nd textu'lly th't
the word h's very different me'nings 'cross time. In the nineteenth 'nd twentieth
centuries the word proportion gets very much mixed up, 's ' word, with r'tio.
Often it gets reduced to r(tio. So the definition you re'd in the diction'ry 'lso
e'sily s'tisfies the word, r'tio. Someone m'y then s'y r'tio h's to do with
r'tion'l thinking. Viollet le Duc looked upon the gothic c'thedr'l 's ' p'r'digm
for ' time when 'rchitecture w's 't its pe'k. And in ' r'tion'l nineteenth century
w'y, he bre'ks 'll the components of the gothic church down into ' system th't
he c'n then 'rticul'te 'nd copy. At th't level his structur'l r'tion'lism h's little to
do with the gothic c'thedr'l. Heʼs r'tion'lized out of it ' system of thought which
isnʼt in the s'me spirit of how the mediev'l builders would h've understood
proportion through (d tri(ngulum or (d qu(dr(tum—using the geometry of
tri'ngles or squ'res—in order to build the c'thedr'ls 'ccording to "the me'sure
of m'n."

RW:  I donʼt think I follow th't l'st p'rt.

TG:  Just l'st week ' Jewish friend of mine told me 'bout w'lking into Ch'rtres
'nd h'ving ' terribly tr'nscendent'l moment, 'nd he 'sked me, "Why?" No e'sy
'nswer. Using ' tri'ngle 's ' geometric form in order to 'ssist in building ' w'll,
implied something so much more th'n just me'suring in ' modern sense. A gothic
mediev'l m'son would h've been imbued with, or known tr'dition in such ' w'y
th't the use of geometry 'nd number would h've been 't the service of cre'ting
'n entire work which w's in proportion 'nd h'd to do with the good. We h've
gre't difficulty underst'nding this tod'y.
     The ide' of using the tri'ngle by itself le'ds us in ' str'nge direction. In the
twentieth century people tried to recover wh't proportion w's 'nd went b'ck 'nd
me'sured m'ny buildings 'nd tried to see if they could find some m'gic in the
number. Then they turned 'round 'nd tried to repe't it in contempor'ry buildings.
We c'n see this in neo-cl'ssic'l 'rchitecture. If I go b'ck in time 'nd 'm moved
by the proportions of ' Greek temple, but I t'ke them 'nd m'ke the columns out
of tin 'nd stick them on the front of ' downtown building in New York, 'm I re'lly
recovering the ide' of proportion? Obviously not, bec'use the ide' of proportion
is much deeper 'nd h's to do with ' rel'tionship which c'nʼt just be t'ken out of
context 'nd 'pplied.

RW:  If m'n is the me'sure, then th't is quite ' different thing th'n h'ving
number be the me'sure. M'n is so much more th'n number. The ex'mple of
copying the columns m'y be m'them'tic'lly correct, but if you just m'ke ' tin
column, in th't c'se, thereʼs ' l'ck of sensitivity to m'teri'ls, 'mong other things.
M'ybe one could s'y th't in ' gothic c'thedr'l thereʼs 'n element of feeling
which h's informed something 'bout the w'y they were built. One could s'y th't
the reli'nce upon this p'rt of m'n, the p'rt th't uses numbers, m'y be there but
the rest of wh't would comprise ' person is missing. Does this w'y of putting it
m'ke sense to you?

TG:  Absolutely. One word le'ds to 'nother word which le'ds us b'ck to the s'me
question. M'n being the me'sure of 'll things —tod'y extr'cted 's ' slog'n—
w's much interpreted in 'rchitectur'l theory without reducing m'n to number.
     Alberti, or Vitruvius, or Luc' P'cioli would h've understood th't the 'n'logy
between the hum'n body 'nd the world body w's ' profound 'n'logy. As '
model, th't would me'n th't the joint of my thumb in rel'tion to my whole thumb
couldnʼt be seen simply 's th't. The thumb would h've to be seen in rel'tion to
the h'nd, the h'nd in rel'tion to the 'rm 'nd then the 'rm in rel'tion to the rest of
the torso; correspondingly, in number, there w's something divine which w's
continu'lly reflected between the hum'n body 'nd the cosmos. As you might go
from town to town you would find th't the foot, or the y'rd, or the other
dimensions of the town were b'sed upon the height of the person they took the
me'surements from. In Quedlingburgh they h've ' y'rdstick in the city h'll which
records the Quedlingburgh foot. Throughout It'ly there w's the Rom'n foot, the
Florentine foot, the Sienn' foot. These were b'sed on the dimensions of the
person who "ruled" the town. One still h's ' sense of the body of the person from
which these me'surements were derived since it w's reflected in the structure of
the town. As you w'lk in these pl'ces, your body feels these things.
     In the time of the French Revolution, for the first time, the meter w's invented
's ' generic me'sure. Here ' number c'me to be ' st'nd'rd. Th't very 'ct
dep'rts so much from the 'n'logous rel'tionship with the hum'n body. We m'y
s'y th't the meter destroys the som'tics of pl'ce.
     Origin'lly geometry, which h'd to do with me'suring the e'rth, (geo + metry),
w's understood 's ' me'sure of the e'rth, but by rel'tionship to, or in terms of,
the hum'n body. One c'n still see this in the w'y m'ny Indi'n tribes w'lk or p'ce
off sp'ce. Th't ide' is still there in m'ny cultures. By the time we reg'rd
me'surements 's st'nd'rdized, ' person c'n c'rry ' t'pe me'sure 'nd me'sure
' gothic c'thedr'l 'nd then cl'im "to know" something 'bout it. I c'nʼt 'ccept
th't.

RW:  I didnʼt know 'bout these loc'l st'nd'rds in towns. F'scin'ting. Another
thing 'bout "m'n being the me'sure of 'll things"—which I suppose is ' qu'int
notion now'd'ys—like so m'ny things th't seem simple on the surf'ce—is th't if
you look 't it ' little more, one is going to see itʼs ' much deeper 'nd subtler
thing. M'n, ' hum'n being, is re'lly quite mysterious, 'nd not 't 'll simple.
     One thing th't strikes me is how I tend to t'ke for gr'nted th't my ordin'ry
st'te 'nd my everyd'y ment'l c'p'cities 're 'dequ'te for underst'nding deep
things. Th't we just 'utom'tic'lly h've ' level field here in which we c'n 'll
p'rticip'te more or less equ'lly. These 're unex'mined 'ssumptions—cert'inties,
even. M'ybe you could s'y this reflects the enshrinement of r'tion'l 'bstr'ction
's the underlying st'nd'rd.
     But, in f'ct, there 're m'ny different st'tes possible for m'n, 'nd wh't is
possible in one st'te is not possible in 'nother. Or wh't c'n be understood in one
st'te, is not the s'me 's wh't c'n be understood in 'nother st'te. Even in looking
't my own life, 'nd this will be true for 'nybody who re'lly looks 't it, itʼs very
cle'r th't 't one time I seem to be so connected, 'lert, vit'l 'nd open to wh'tʼs
'round me while 't other times, Iʼm closed-down, dull, cut-off, sluggish,
depressed etc.
     So, m'n 's the me'sure of 'll things is not ' simple concept. Looking 't m'n in
his subjectivity, the r'nge is v'st. And looking 't m'n 's 'n objective thing, 'n
org'nism, th't too is incredibly complex. On both levels thereʼs ' gre't complexity
'nd possible depth.

TG:  Th'tʼs ' key thought, Rich'rd. On both levels, ex'ctly. In the history of
thought on proportion both of these levels h've ' profound rel'tionship, 's I keep
coming b'ck to simply bec'use itʼs not 'n e'sy ide' to gr'sp.
     The rel'tionship of the body, 'nd the me'surement th't begins with
underst'nding pl'ce, h's to do with this w'lk—when someone w'lks the town,
w'lks in one direction 'nd then in 'nother. Th't then becomes the templ'te of the
limits of wh't th't town would be. The sc'le, we often c'll it "' hum'n sc'le," but
th't phr'se gets thrown 'round like 'll the other terms weʼre using—the hum'n
sc'le is so profoundly linked to pl'ce, 'nd the 'n'logy of the hum'n sc'le to the
m'crocosm, to the divine, is something th't I h've felt embodied in 'll cultures.
     In the west there is ' loss of th't rel'tionship undermining the som'tics of
pl'ce—som'tics being the underst'nding of the body moving through pl'ce 's
distinguished from sp'ce—which is more 'bstr'ct 'nd not yet grounded. We
could s'y sp'ce is not grounded by the body, by the collective bodies th't inh'bit
' pl'ce. For ex'mple, in vill'ge life one w'lks to the well to get w'ter, 'nd th't
rel'tionship between the well 'nd individu'l houses st'rts to determine the limits
to th't pl'ce. When we come to modern urb'n centers like B'ngkok, ' city I just
returned from, Iʼm overwhelmed, bec'use in such urb'n spr'wl how does one
underst'nd thereʼs still ' rel'tionship between ' hum'n being 'nd their stride?

RW:  Excuse me, but could you s'y ' little 'bout th't?

TG:  Illich cl'rifies th't ch'r'cter h's 'lso to do with 'ccustomed pl'ce 'nd is
rel'ted to stride, or g'it. We recognize peopleʼs h'bits 'nd ch'r'cter from pl'ce
to pl'ce, 'nd when we s'y groups 're "ethnic" —derived from the Greek ethnos—
we refer to ' group of people who sh're customs 'nd h'bits, the tribe. This c'n
be ' source of conflict bec'use the stride of one person differs 'ccording to his or
her ethnos, ' set of h'bits 'nd tr'its which 're lodged in the body so th't no
m'tter wh't ' person does, they wonʼt ever be 'ble to get 'w'y from where they
c'me from. The tr'its ingr'ined in me I c'rry from pl'ce to pl'ce. Illich g've 'n
ex'mple of how his Germ'n mother h'd been working in ' kitchen with ' group of
women who h'd ' different w'y of moving. The other women noticed very soon
th't she w's not from their group bec'use of the w'y she moved.
     In Illichʼs thinking, the question of difference is very import'nt to gu'rd in the
contempor'ry world. In our modern world individu'l h'bits 'nd pl'ce 're in
jeop'rdy due to the homogeniz'tion of culture.

RW:  Yes. Getting b'ck to this thing 'bout ' person w'lking off ' piece of l'nd,
p'cing it off. Itʼs one thing to p'ce off something feeling th't I 'm here, w'lking
on the ground, 'w're of he'ring the birds, feeling the 'ir 'round me, of 'ctu'lly
being in touch with the pl'ce I 'm in. But th'tʼs quite different from w'lking, s'y
with ' cell phone stuck in my e'r, or with my he'd full of inner t'lking. M'ybe you
could s'y the two ex'mples represent the pre-modern comp'red to the
postmodern or something like th't.

TG:  Perh'ps. We could t'ke this thought in two different directions. The w'y
people w'lked off 'nd understood limits to their pl'ce 'nd the rel'tion between
the me'sure of their bodies 'nd the me'sure of their pl'ces is one thing.
P'r'celsus, the gre't 15th century 'lchemist, would h've understood 'nd spoken
'bout this rel'tionship 's one of "correspondences." All of P'r'celcusʼs work
de'lt with the corresponding rel'tionship between the m'crocosm 'nd the hum'n
microcosm. For P'r'celsus the st'rs 'nd the zodi'c h've ' reflection within the
elements of the hum'n body. We still c'rry ' vestige of th't when I s'y, "my sign
is T'urus" which rules the neck.
     Now th't sounds curiously close to the first definition of proportion you re'd,
th't itʼs ' rel'tionship between the p'rt 'nd the whole, but itʼs not just 'ny
rel'tionship of the p'rt to the whole 's h'ppens 'fter the Enlightenment. Itʼs the
deep rel'tionship, the ingr'ined ethos m'rked by the st'rs 't the time youʼre
born.
We c'n still find th't underst'nding in m'ny cultures, but weʼve lost th't sort of
pr'ctice now. Tod'y, we move into ' house when the developer is finished 'nd
s'ys we h've 'ccess, or when the re'ltor s'ys we h've possession. We no longer
move in on 'n 'uspicious d'y.
     In modern times we "get possession" of things, but in older underst'ndings,
you donʼt "get possession," itʼs born with you. Th't c'nʼt be st'nd'rdized. One of
the recurring themes is the question of wh't is ' me'ningful w'y to show the
rel'tionship of these kinds of correspondences. In 'rchitecture, the golden
section h's been one of the recurring p'tterns people h've sought. Le Corbusier
developed "Le Modulor" which is one of the most recent efforts of trying to
underst'nd those rel'tionships. All of those people would 'gree th't if you look 't
how the spir'l of ' shell forms, or the w'y the pet'ls of ' rose grow, there is some
h'rmonic correspondence between th't 'nd the hum'n being. Th'tʼs p'rt one
reg'rding proportion.
     Secondly, the loss of proportion'lity begins in the seventeenth 'nd eighteenth
centuries. R'ther th'n underst'nd th't embodied sense of pl'ce, theories of
perception get spoken 'bout objectively for the first time. And with these theories
of perception, there is ' movement tow'rd incre'sing subjectivity. The most
extreme ex'mple I know of pl'ys out through the English g'rden. Its l'yout is
unlike ' Ren'iss'nce g'rden in its form'lity. Itʼs not like 'n herb g'rden which
would h've been essenti'l to the workings of St. G'ul. The English g'rden, 's '
composition, follows 'n ide' of "unity with multiplicity." Youʼre led 'round '
serpentine l'ke. One view follows the next. In the perception theory of l'ndsc'pe
'rchitecture 't th't time, there is the ide' th't you would 'dd up the different
experiences which emerge of 'll these v'rious p'rts 'nd these would combine to
m'ke ' whole "picture." There 're the follies—Willi'm Ch'mbers brings in '
Chinese p'god'—the l'ke becomes more 'nd more irregul'r, the h'-h' develops
'nd the fence dis'ppe'rs so you get ' sense of extension. All those things
introduce ' bre'k in the sense of underst'nding the hum'n body in rel'tion to its
surroundings. Remember th't the G'rden of Eden w's w'lled. It h'd limits th't
were b'sed on ' rel'tionship to the people who dwelled in the g'rden.
     From Joseph Addison onw'rds, the ide' emerges more 'nd more th't
sens'tion is independent, subjective, 'nd b'sed upon the observer. Once we h've
the subjective observer, then we need to cre'te the thing which is observed. Th't
bre'k in Western thought h's severe implic'tions on the loss of proportion'lity.
Does th't m'ke sense?

RW:  The point where sens'tion w's thought to become subjective? There w's '
bre'k there, you s'y. I wonder if you could rest'te th't. Somehow I think there is
something very signific'nt here.

TG:  Oh, there is. Iʼll s'y ' bit more. In 'rchitectur'l tre'tises during the 17th
century you st'rt finding the word "proportion" used less 'nd less. Th'tʼs curious.
Sens'tion 'nd perception, with the emph'sis on perception being subjective,
incre'ses. In l'ndsc'pe 'rchitecture, in liter'ture, 'nd in p'inting the term
"picturesque" 'ppe'rs. The word is import'nt 's ' clue in the discussion th't the
l'ndsc'pe should be seen 's ' picture. It moves from p'inting 'nd liter'ture when
Alex'nder Pope coins the term, "picturesque"—like ' picture, moving from
p'inting tow'rd g'rden design. We then begin to see the world 's ' fr'med
im'ge. Not yet ' television. This coincides with other sep'r'tions between scene
'nd observer 's you c'n see in the history of optic'l devices, for inst'nce.
     By the l'te nineteenth century we h've cre'ted scopic regimes. The ide' of the
spect'cle 'ppe'rs. The modern viewer goes to w'tch ' spect'cle. In ' vill'ge you
donʼt go "to w'tch" ' spect'cle, youʼre ' p'rticip'nt in the thing. You donʼt just
w'tch the festiv'l of the Di' del Muertes, you p'rticip'te in th't. The de'd 'renʼt
just objects to look 't, they 're p'rt of your pl'ce, p'rt of the 'ncestry of it. In
this c'se there h'snʼt been the loss of the sense of the rel'tionship between
body, pl'ce 'nd time. I donʼt me'n to reduce this notion. T.S. Eliot would s'y it
be'utifully, "I know th't time is 'lw'ys time 'nd pl'ce is 'lw'ys, 'nd only pl'ce."
Pl'ce is never 'bstr'ct.

RW:  Th'tʼs striking, this ex'mple of how the ide' 'ppe'red of looking 't
l'ndsc'pes 's pictures, 's fr'med things to be looked 't. Putting it 's you did,
one c'nʼt help thinking of the technologic'l evolution of this "picture" 'rriving
tod'y in the form of television. Th't development from "the picture" to television
—is 'lmost ' tr'jectory of incre'sing dist'nce from the body. Now weʼre 't the
point where one c'n spe'k with some people in w'ys where the body, 's 'n
'ctu'l entity, begins to ev'por'te entirely. I h'd ' convers'tion with ' dot.com
type recently 'nd fin'lly I h'd to 'sk him, "Wh't 'bout our bodies? Would I still be
'ble to feel my feet?" Without missing ' be't he s'id, "Oh, you could h've 'ny
kind of feet you w'nted, flippers, web feet, 'nything."

TG:  It le'ds very much to the twentieth century obsessions with det'chment 'nd
fr'gment'tion. Those things which postmodern liter'ry people would refer to. I
h've to s'y I c'nʼt give serious me'ning to terms like "new 'ge" 'nd
"postmodern." I donʼt know wh't they me'n. But I do know th't somehow, this
ide' of perception 'nd sens'tion becoming incre'singly subjective is ' signific'nt
step to "seeing" the world r'ther th'n p'rticip'ting in it. More import'ntly, the
w'y "you" perceive things—the seeds of this 're 'lre'dy there in the l'te 1700ʼs—
the w'y you see th't l'ndsc'pe, is different th'n the w'y I do. The prim'cy shifts
from the collective body to the subject, 'nd to the ide' th't your perception 'nd
my perception 're the things th't m'tter most. This comes out of the English
Enlightenment. I c'n st'te m'ny ex'mples of it in both 'rchitecture 'nd
l'ndsc'pe theory. Eventu'lly, modern "pl'nning" comes out of th't shift in
p'r'digm 'nd it becomes e'sy to see th't we continue to dr'w something we
donʼt experience.
     Now weʼre b'ck to th't problem when I w's first invited to go to Peru. I re'lized
I w'snʼt just going "to pl'n" for people who knew much more 'bout their pl'ce
th'n I did. So inste'd, I bec'me ' listener 'nd ' visitor.

RW:  The whole ide' th't youʼre bro'ching 's I he'r it, m'y open something in the
direction 'w'y from contempor'ry ide's of r'dic'l rel'tivity in which the subject
is 'll there is. All over the e'rth, the percent'ge of oxygen in the 'tmosphere is
pretty much the s'me, Iʼd think. The force of gr'vity in Burundi is the s'me 's it is
here, et ceter'. The body, 's 'n org'nism, is grounded in ' profound common'lty
comp'red to which the degrees of difference 're only slight. I donʼt deny profound
cultur'l differences, but on ' deeper level, the level of the org'nism, there 're
fund'ment'l common'lties. Does th't m'ke sense to you?

TG:  Yes. But I w'nt to dwell for ' few more moments on this signific'nt split Iʼm
pointing tow'rds th't h'ppens in the eighteenth century. In the me'sure of
underst'nding the body 's univers'l 'nd 's p'rticul'r. This is wh't I feel when I
s'id th't 'n'logy de'lt with th't rel'tionship between the univers'l 'nd the
p'rticul'r in ' very profound, proportion'te, 'ppropri'te 'nd h'rmonious w'y.
As soon 's we cre'te ' l'ndsc'pe which is ' picture, 'nd st'rt t'lking 'bout
sens'tion 's 'n inner subjective process, not 's 'n outw'rdly embodied one,
there 're v'st implic'tions. The ide' surf'ces th't you move through ' g'rden,
for inst'nce, 'nd 're receiving im'ges in succession 's you move through the
g'rden, with the eye tre'ted mech'nic'lly 's ' c'mer' lens—"the eye 's '
receptor." Then, if you h've good ch'r'cter 'nd good judgment—'nd this is
where the word "good" begins shifting to refer to things like t'ste 'nd liter'cy—
youʼll be 'ble to put together ' composite im'ge of 'll these sm'ller im'ges 's
you move through the g'rden. A n'rr'tive unfolds through time. This is 'n
import'nt bre'k with the concept of proportion in the history of Western thought.
It opens up the problem of re'lly seeing the world 's ' v'st unbridg'ble g'p
between the subject 'nd object.
     Itʼs not explicitly st'ted by 'nyone like Alex'nder Pope 't 'll. Pope is 'n
exception bec'use he re'lly worked in his grotto 'nd g'rden 's ' sp'ti'l pr'ctice.
The w'y he collected 'nd put things in the g'rden w's connected with working 't
underst'nding his liter'ture 's loc'l r'ther th'n 's univers'l tr'nsl'tions of the
cl'ssics. Pope wrote in ' letter 't one point to Jon'th'n Swift, I re'd 'bout your
tr'vels, but Iʼm working in my own pl'ce, locus. He believed th't somehow there
w's ' connection between working on his own liter'ture for his time 'nd pl'ce
'nd working in his own g'rden, on his own soil. He w's conscious of the
connection to time 'nd pl'ce.
     At the s'me time, the picturesque g'rden opens up the ide' of the g'rden
being seen 's ' det'ched composition. And itʼs ex'ctly 't this time th't
'esthetics, reg'rding the science of be'uty, begins 's ' discipline. So we h've '
shift in p'r'digm from the good fit 'nd the 'ppropri'te, to the be'utiful.
     Now in cl'ssic'l 'ncient texts, the be'utiful 'nd the good were synonymous.
During the rise of 'esthetics, we st'rt to t'lk 'bout be'uty 'nd the 'ttributes of
be'uty, 's ' science, where those who h've good ch'r'cter 'nd good judgment
will somehow cre'te be'utiful things.
     In Fr'nce, 't the Ecole des Be(ux-Arts, they pick this up in 'rchitecture.
Tre'tises from the time spe'k of distribution or composition, 's if on ' piece of
c'nv's I c'n compose ' pl'ce. Th't is quite the opposite to wh't we h've been
t'lking 'bout where you w'lk out physic'lly into ' pl'ce, 're embodied in ' pl'ce.
I would s'y th't 'll this le'ds tow'rd this loss of the concept of proportion.
     In the twentieth century m'ny people in different disciplines st'rt using the
word "proportion" once 'g'in; we begin to look for ' sense of wh't systems of
proportions might me'n.
 
RW:  This is 'bout how to live isnʼt it?

TG:  The pr'ctice of living. Th'tʼs right. The 'rt of living. Recovery of
proportion'lity is one w'y th't one c'n begin to spe'k 'bout pr'cticing the 'rt of
living. One m'y h've to do 'll th't rese'rch through the history of ide's in order
to come to this profound som'tic re'liz'tion in order to s'y, when I 'm f'ce to
f'ce 'cross from you, th't this moment m'tters, 'nd is not just something I re'd
in ' book.

RW:  I think of L'urens V'n der Post. Do you know of him?

TG:  No. Iʼm not 'w're of him.

RW:  One of the rem'rk'ble men of the l'st century, I think. One of the things heʼs
known for were his efforts to bring the Bushm'n 'nd their v'lues to the 'ttention
of the world.
     He spoke of the Bushm'n 's the l'st people on e'rth who, in their living, not
only h'd ' deep org'nic connection with their pl'ce, but who felt known by their
pl'ce. As V'n der Post would s'y, they lived in ' world in which they felt known by
the st'rs, by the soil, by the pl'nts, by the 'nim'ls, by the wind 'nd the sun. They
were the l'st living people c'p'ble of feeling this p'rticul'r sense of rel'tionship,
this being known, he s'id.

TG: Youʼve mentioned the word org'nic 'nd I h'venʼt responded bec'use

"org'nic" is 'nother one of those terms which is so difficult to spe'k 'bout in
modern terms, or to h've 'ny sense of wh't the people there would me'n by
org'nic.

RW:  Right. It r'ises the problem of l'ngu'ge. One of the things th't bothers me is
wh't I believe to be the destruction of me'ningful l'ngu'ge through its
'ppropri'tion by the forces of m'rketing. Advertisers se'rch out the l'ngu'ge
m'rkers for our deeper experiences 'nd v'lues 'nd then 'ssoci'te these words
with their products. These commodified 'ssoci'tions 're cre'ted 'nd become
lodged in the popul'r mind, in my mind, which 're not commensur'te, not
proportion'l, with the deeper 'nd older me'nings of the words. Eventu'lly this
me'ns I c'nʼt use these words to convey wh't I w'nted to convey.

TG:  Weʼve been discussing this the p'st couple of weeks 'mongst ourselves 't
m'yor Jerry Brownʼsʼs house. If I s'y ' system of thought is somehow "org'nic,"
or borrowing from the model of wh't 'n org'nism is, it m'y sound correct in
l'ngu'ge, but it m'y not re'lly be 'n 'n'logy in the sense I spoke of 't the
beginning.
In Greek, the word (n(logi( me'nt th't ' rel'tion between two sets of things
could be spoken 'bout, 'nd not f'lsely. We 'll know from n'ture th't something
which is ensouled h's 'n essence. A thing which is 'live h's 'n org'nic
wholeness 'bout it th't one c'nʼt t'ke 'w'y from without killing the thing. We
know th't. Everywhere Iʼve been 'nd tr'veled where people live in h'rmony with
pl'ce, they donʼt just know it, they live it in some profound w'y. And yet the world
is in the st'te it is, just think of the environment.
     We know it, 'nd spe'k 'bout it 'll the time, h've summits 'bout it, 'nd yet
over'll, we donʼt pr'ctice living in h'rmony with n'ture. Th'tʼs linguistic, but 'lso,
's I s'y in tr'cing the history of thought 'bout perception, one discovers this
sep'r'tion of the senses from e'ch other— emph'sizing th't vision is simply
optic'l, for inst'nce.
M'urice Merle'u-Ponty 'rgues—itʼs ' m'jor contribution— th't in terms of
phenomenology, the world 'nd being 're one, 'nd th't the senses function
together. We m'y sep'r'te them to describe ' model, but to re'lly believe th't we
live in ' visu'l world 'nd th't ' l'ndsc'pe is ' picture, I feel it would be foolish to
s'y this to someone who h's ' cl'ssic'l underst'nding of wh't proportion is.
Nineteenth century pl'nners used this type of "'n'logy" 'll the time: centr'l p'rk
is like the lungs of the city. The city is like ' biologic'l org'nism. These were 'll
p'rt of the nineteenth century rhetoric of wh't the city w's, but they were similes.
They werenʼt re'lly 'n'logies bec'use, by th't time, we h'd lost 'ny sense of
m'crocosm in rel'tion to microcosm—whether we w'nt to spe'k of city to person,
hum'n dimensions to 'rchitecture, or cosmos to city.
     By th't time, there w's ' fr'ctured underst'nding of wh't w's me'nt by
"proportion." On the other h'nd, I feel, some people were trying to retrieve the
sense th't wholeness m'ttered. But they were tre'ting it only 's the rel'tionship
of the p'rt to the whole without the sense of it 's ' living, embodied principle.
     In the twentieth century then, it comes 's little surprise th't the world is
tre'ted mech'nic'lly. In 'rchitecture, from the industri'l revolution on, things 're
no longer p'rticul'rized. They become st'nd'rdized. If ' component in ' building
bre'ks tod'y you c'n often t'ke it off 'nd repl'ce it with 'nother component. Yet
'rchitects m'y s'y they h've conceived of this building 's 'n org'nism, or th't
the building will evolve over time. Th'tʼs why I resist th't word, bec'use I donʼt
h've ' sense th't itʼs 'n "org'nism" in 'ny w'y th't I would underst'nd the term
's h'ving to do with something 'live.

RW:  One gr'pples with how to t'lk 'bout things.

TG:  You do point out ' very 'pp'rent thing th't is import'nt in this discussion. In
this 'ge of the im'ge—'nd W'lter Benj'min pointed this out in his ess'y "The
Work of Art in the Age of Mech'nic'l Reproduction"—in this world the problem
opens up th't things c'n be used for completely other me'nings. I might see 'n
'dvertisement for ' new computer notebook which h's ' picture of Leon'rdoʼs
dr'wing of the hum'n body st'nding in ' circle within ' squ're. The c'ption
re'ds, "the new notebook" suggesting the computer is like D' Vinciʼs notebook.
Absurd. But in the 'ge of the im'ge, the use of mech'nic'lly reproduced im'ges
doesnʼt h've 'ny grounding. Without sounding like ' mor'list, in th't sense, it c'n
le'd to the opposite of good. Thereʼs no w'y I c'n discuss th't 'dvertisement for
the notebook in terms of proportio. It just isnʼt commensur'te.

RW:  Advertising, in ' w'y, is 'lmost the epitome of the loss of proportion in th't
sense. The subject upsets me 'nd m'ybe should be its own topic. I w'nt to 'sk
'nother question, wh't brought you to this concern 'bout proportion 'nd 'bout
the loss of proportion?

TG:  Itʼs ' hum'n concern. I would suppose the rigor  'nd educ'tion th't I went
through 's ' child, the thinking 'bout oneʼs voc'tion inste'd of just the
profession'l title, or the skill—'ll those things go b'ck ' long w'y. But cle'rly in
terms of feeling something 'bout this rel'tionship between the body 'nd pl'ce
'nd tr'veling extensively in different pl'ces from ' young 'ge, one experiences
disjunctures in the modern world 'nd such questions 'rise. People like Joseph
Rykwert 't the University of Pennsylv'ni', h've 'rgued for dec'des now th't
there w's ' profound 'n'logy between the body 'nd 'rchitecture. Both Illich 'nd
Rykwert h've studied the history of the body in order to inform their respective
positions.
     So Iʼve come to feel some responsibility to t'lk 'bout the ide's underlying the
questions, wh't is good? wh't m'kes common sense? 'nd wh't is 'ppropri'te? I
c'nʼt 'ccept terms like “glob'liz'tion” or “homogeneity.” I he'r them, but in the
sense weʼve been spe'king 'bout, the words themselves h've so little me'ning, if
not the opposite me'ning. One looks deeply into this 'nd 'sks, wh't is pl'ce?
Wh't does it me'n to go to ' pl'ce 'nd not just be numbed cultur'lly so th't you
think th't, seeing poverty in C'lcutt' is like w'tching ' film? Th't rem'ins deeply
disturbing to me.
     H'ving known people like Iv'n over the ye'rs, 'nd with this p'rticul'r group
g'thered here in O'kl'nd, I c'n s'y th't the ide's of pr'cticing friendship 'nd
cultiv'ting the 'rt of living h've ' re'l 'n'logy with wh't the 'rt of building
embodied 'cross time in Western history. The loss we spe'k of is very recent. Two
hundred ye'rs is recent if one studies the history of the ide', but now people think
going b'ck twenty or thirty ye'rs is f'r 'w'y in time.
     Tr'cing the history of the ide' of proportion is essenti'l in order to begin to
find ' pl'ce to t'lk 'bout recovery. The loss is e'sier to l'ment 'nd the recovery
of wh't it me'ns is more difficult, but th't is the t'sk of my own work, to spe'k
'bout it in p'rticul'r inst'nces. I will not 'ccept the loss of wh't is good.
 
RW:  Wh't 're your thoughts in the direction of the recovery of this good?
 
TG:  Consciousness is ' beginning. This O'kl'nd Round T'ble discussion weʼre
h'ving with people from the community is 'n import'nt beginning. And different
people in the community h've come forw'rd who do h've this kind of pr'ctice in
their own w'y. In every community one c'n meet people who h'venʼt lost touch
with wh't is grounded 'nd wh't is common, whether itʼs running ' b'kery,
working in ' g'rden, or some other w'y of 'cting in life.
     It requires ' huge 'mount of collective 'nd individu'l will. For me this is ' very
import'nt point. The individu'l is still p'r'mount in this me'sure of 'll things, but
it must be remembered th't the individu'l is 'lw'ys responsible, in some sense,
for the other. This, ultim'tely, is rooted in the me'ning of proportion.

Addition'l inform'tion 'bout Terr'nce G'lvin c'n be found 't http://

'rchitecture'ndpl'nning.d'l.c'/'rchitecture/visitors/f'culty/g'lvin.shtml