On Translation, Intuition, and the Potency of

Sonic-Spatial Relations1 Geoffrey Thün

A person listening to music experiences rhythm as something beyond all refl ection,

something existing within himself. A man who moves rhythmically starts the motion

himself and feels that he controls it. But very shortly the rhythm controls him, he is pos-

sessed by it....Often too it occupies the performer without any conscious effort on his

part so that his mind is free to wander at will—a state very favourable to artistic produc-

tion. (Rasmussen, 1959, p134.)

The modern history of the translation between music and architecture or sound

and space has emerged within two dominant modes. Both stem from the post-en-

lightenment obsession with rationalization and quantifi cation that leads philoso-

phy to conclude that the relationships in question are defi ned by implication—fi xed,

static, and formal. (MacGilvray, 1992 p. 87-88). The fi rst mode involves the realm of

mathematics and physics, the translation of auditory affect through the precision of

spatial defi nition and performative tectonics, in a tradition that includes the lineage

of the Gothic cathedrals and that extends through Vitruvius and Alberti to Sabine and

hence to the modern science of acoustics. ( Sheridan and Van Lengen, 2003 pp. 38-

40). The second mode is more directly related to compositional methods that liter-

ally and directly translate between systems of notation ( Martin, 1994; Holl, 1996).

Common to both of these approaches is a shared emphasis on the inheritance of the

enlightenment—the will to the rational, the transparent and the procedural.

Yet, when we refl ect on our aural experience, be it directly with a particular pas-

sage of music or with accidental auricular encounters, our response—both cerebral

and emotional—is often highly charged, tangible, immediate and visceral. This con-

tradiction, or disjunction, between rational process and visceral intended effect, sug-

gests a third, empathetic mode of translation between these pairings of architecture

and music, space and sound. This third way makes use of the necessary and impor-

1 The author wishes to acknowledge the enthusiastic support of Eric Haldenby, Director of the

School of Architecture at the University of Waterloo. Special thanks to my partners Kathy Ve-

likov and Colin Ripley for critical editorial advice, collaboration, and inspiration, and colleagues

Ryszard Sliwka, Samantha Schneider, Paul Raff, and Catherine Kilkoyne for their congeniality,

conviviality and contributions as fellow instructors in the studio. Lastly, special thanks to all the

students who participated in the 2005 Resonant Chamber Studio for their optimism, voracious

appetites, and intensity in the pursuit of these questions.

100 Geoffery Thün

tant capacity of the designer to translate between modes of perception, expression

and action. This notion of the empathetic or Einfühlung within aesthetic philosophy

can be understood from a reading of Kant’s Critique of Judgement common to the work

of Heinrich Wölffl in, Thedor Lipps and Wilhelm Worringer. Mark Jarzombek’s inter-

pretation of these authors locates a mode of translation that hinges upon the funda-

mental recognition of the other in reading the artifact as a means toward the location

of its essence (Jarzombek, 2000, pp 37-72). The translator must simultaneously ap-

preciate that which resonates within the self, and project onto the conception of the

social,that which might resonate with the other in order to distill what may constitute

the translatable as the essence of a particular subject. Similarly, in determining the

form of the translation, this notion of resonance that is legible both to the self and to

the projected social must reside in the proposed outcome of the translation. The em-

pathetic operates beyond the veil of the rational and demonstrable. Translation in this

mode might draw upon a set of emotive, subconscious and cultural responses to the

sonic, engendering alternative means by which the designer might generate new and

possible architectural expressions. This chapter refl ects on some recent experiences

in the academic design studio that sought to investigate the possibility and potency of

this proposition, and looks to these alternative translations as a point of departure.

The conception of this work begins with a question: what methods might we de-

ploy to engage this alternate approach to translation? If one turns to Jungian psychol-

ogy, in which both sensation and intuition are framed as the means through which one

perceives the world, we may consider what role the sensorial and synthetic capaci-

ties might play in the generation of alternative translational acts (Jung, 1971). With

respect to the discipline of linguistic translation, two central approaches to the act of

translation are defi ned: the strict notion of precise transfer between languages, or the

interpretation of a meaningful whole within speech communities (Ricoeur, 2006, p.

11-12). The latter methodology stresses a search for meanings that transcend the lexi-

cal differences between linguistic components, so that a subsequent description is

centered upon the distillation of meaning—the communication within another mode

of language of the essence and intent as described in the fi rst. If we turn to descrip-

tive geometry, a translation is defi ned by a relational movement without rotation or

refl ection. For our purposes here, we will borrow from a range of these descriptions.

We posit that central to an alternate or third mode of translation between sound and

space is an explicitly non-formal approach that resists the evaluation of individuated

fragments of content, concentrating instead on the overall intent or tone of the piece.

This approach shares with geometry the idea of movement and transposition in the

creation of new propositions, yet emphasises the centrality of intuition and sensation,

rather than rational analysis, as the primary source of understanding.

The important role of students in the pursuit of this question is suggested by an

anecdote related to the renaissance of the Hebrew language under Eliezer Ben-Yehu-

On Translation 101

da. As part of his attempts to revive Hebrew as a spoken language, Ben-Yehuda began

a practice whereby his fi rst son Ittamar Ben-Avi, born in 1882, was only to speak He-

brew in its ancient form, and at the exclusion of all other languages, so as to propel

the creation of an as yet nonexistent modern vocabulary. As the child grew, so did the

need for the creation of a whole set of words to describe secular artifacts, technolo-

gies and conditions not existent within the vocabulary of scripture (Fellman, 1973,

pp. 40-46). The naiveté of the inquiring mind was essential to the generation of new

terminology. Rather than Talmudic debate acting as the basis for the creation of new

terms, Ben-Yehuda relied on his child’s capacity for insight, having only been trained

in the language that he was simultaneously expanding, so for example, a pen became

“a writing tool which we never have to dip [in ink]”, a glove became “housing for the

hand” (Nahir, 2003, pp. 5-6). Although romantic, this vision of the search for language

led by the innocent is arresting in its direct citation of phenomenological revelation as

the point of intellectual innovation. It is fascinating to consider the requirement for

naiveté on the part of Ittamar Ben-Avi as a precondition for original insight, particu-

larly in relation to Bachelard’s notion of the centrality of childhood to one’s ability to

access the cosmic solitude at the centre of the human psyche. “It is there that the be-

ing of childhood binds the real with the imaginary, that it lives the images of reality in

total imagination” (Bachelard,1960, p. 108).

The University of Waterloo’s 2005 third year architectural design studio consid-

ered the potential of this notion of a third way, or empathetic translation, specifi cally

utilizing the realm of the aural as a means to investigate the larger issues of translation

between disciplinary and expressive divisions. Further, pedagogically, it sought to in-

vestigate the value of intuition and sensation with respect to their generative poten-

tials for architectural design fully engaged in the premise that naiveté might be ben-

efi cial to invention with respect to the outcomes of experimentation. Students were

oriented to the ambitions of the studio with the following provocation:

The studio will be characterized by alternating periods of action and stillness. You will

be engaged in listening; periods involving intense introspection and refl ection along-

side playing; rigorous testing of design propositions through the act of making. You will

be encouraged to develop conceptual and strategic skills to achieve maximal results

with minimal means. Abstraction and analysis will be distilled and synthesized through

constructed research. ( Thün, 2005)

No overriding methodology was offered, or valorized, with respect to the task at

hand. The semester was divided into three projects, each of which was designed to

catalyze a process by which research and design incite and propel one another. Each

exercise was framed so as to initiate successive levels of complex engagement. Tools

with which to engage the sonic realm were developed as students’ facility for thinking,

designing and making were honed, project by project, over the course of the semester.

102 Geoffery Thün

Project I investigated the translation of a particular passage of sound into a spa-

tial construct. Techniques for the intuitive and structural analysis of sound were de-

veloped alongside iterative design propositions to build an Aeolian Vessel—an interior

space derived from sound. In Project II, research and representation of critical aspects

of signifi cant case study buildings were undertaken to structure a larger understand-

ing of complex constructed assemblies engaging the programmatic and conceptual

themes of the semester. Project III drew upon the research and design enquiry under-

taken during previous projects and permitted each student the opportunity to articu-

late an individual design proposal for the Canadian Centre for Sonic Art, an unusual

hybrid form of urban institution and performance centre for the City of Toronto.

Aeolian Vessel: Hunting the Aural

Anyone who has become entranced by the sound of water drops in the darkness of a

ruin can attest to the extraordinary capacity of the ear to carve a volume into the void of

darkness. The space traced by the ear becomes a cavity sculpted in the interior of the

mind. ( Pallasmaa, 1994, p. 30)

The initial project, Aeolian Vessel, called for students to form into groups and then

select through lottery one of 24 sonic passages with which they would begin to work.

Each of you must fi nd a space in which you can be solitary and focused—free from the

distractions of your surroundings. Now, listen. Listen to the piece and enter it. Trace

its arc from its fi rst breath and inhabit the fullness of its volume. You are hunting for

an essence. You are hunting for a particular passage within the piece that invites your

occupation. Select a particular passage from within the body of the recording (8-20

seconds in length), upon which you will focus your attention. Now, re-enter the space

of this selected passage and imagine its volume. Visit and revisit this place suggested

by sound. Give this place a name. Using the techniques of collage and montage, draw

the volume of this passage in colour. Return to the group and share your discoveries.

( Thün, 2005)

Students began by attempting to draw the space evoked by the passage, and then

worked in an iterative mode, critiquing the work of their group, revisiting the piece,

distilling both the selection of the sonic segment and their increasingly collective re-

sponse to it. Two-dimensional drawn work provoked a response in three dimensions.

Working as a group with a single sound passage, construct an Aeolian Vessel—a spa-

tial volume translating the sound into space. Design and build the artifact so that it is

capable of being viewed simultaneously as an object and an interior. Carefully select

On Translation 103

a material palette and construction method/technique for the Vessel appropriate to

your sound passage, so that it can be read as both a material and spatial embodiment of

the musical piece. Work to develop the vessel through making. Test and retest the Ves-

sel through built propositions. An iterative process is necessary to fi nd the fi nal piece.

( Thün, 2005)

As architects, designers, and artists, we are constantly required to translate be-

tween the abstract or conceptual and the concrete, in order to bring our intentions

into being. Indeed, all artistic production involves the translation of an idea or feeling

into a form that speaks to others (Langer, 1953, pp. 133-148, 392-410). This task of

translation inevitably requires both intuition and instrumentality.

We will translate sound into space. What type of space does the sonic passage evoke?

How does the dimension of sound reach into, trace, or defi ne a volume? How can space

expand and contract in response to the rush of a breath? How can the properties of the

sound passage provoke its spatial counterpart? Rigorously consider its structure and

form. Consider the rhythm, cadence, pitch and tone of the piece. How is movement

created by and infl ected within the piece? How can this passage of sound be translated

into space? ( Thün, 2005)

Having set this problem without any preconceived idea as to what the physical

qualities of the Aeolian Vessel might be, the range of responses to this fi rst proposition

was, to our studio faculty, quite astonishing. Students were only limited in that each

vessel must not exceed a cubic volume of 40 x 40 x 90 cm, confi gured as desired. A va-

riety of methodologies for the translation emerged through the work, from the most

intuitive and primal to more analytical approaches. Within the work of each group,

however, the prescribed technique of response, repose, refl ection and then lateral re-

alignment and response was emphasised.

One group (Figs. 9-1 to 9-3) began by describing a state of suspension, animat-

ed by shimmering light in response to the ethereal work of Jack Dejohnette’s piece

“Gateway.” They began struggling with questions of formlessness, fi rst constructing a

vessel of smoke, and then later conducting a series of experiments introducing India

ink into a volume of water to recreate in a physical medium the sense of suspended in-termingling they intuited from the sonic work. As a means to capture the form of these

studies, they began to analyse the relative density of video footage they had captured

of these their experiments, and attempted to confi gure the coordinates spatially using

3D modeling software, translating the visual density of each pixel of the video frame

into a Cartesian coordinate.

Immediately, they were faced with a crisis of the object and with the diffi culty of

translation of the aural into form. Their initial attempts produced irregular object forms

that by virtue of their fi xity, and object quality, failed to capture the temporal and shift-

104 Geoffery Thün

ing negative space of their video studies. Eventually, the students began to model

the inverse of the solid as a void and, later, to transfer their digital investigations to

real material—to work with ice, a substance that might permit the fi gural to shift with

time, as the material changed states. They then set about casting some forty sheets

of ice, scoring the fi gure of the analytical model into each sheet, so that as they were

assembled, and activated with light, the space of the vessel would emerge.

In a very different mode, another group, whose musical interval was sampled

from Terrance Blanchard’s “Strike Leaves Town,” began with the desire to express the

sense of a deep aching that they found in the piece—an empty but expectant core

that they could only initially approach by modeling its inverse.

Rather than deploying an instrumental technique through which to fi lter their

translation, they worked in the manner of sculptors, slowly working and reworking

the piece at differing scales and materials, understanding that they were construct-

ing the formwork for an interior (Fig. 9-4). They then cast the clay model in plaster

and began to work with pigment, shaping and texturing the surfaces (Fig. 9-5). The fi -

nal piece was remarkable in that it resonated not only at the level of an interior cham-

ber with its own sonic qualities, but also as a piece that invited the caress of the hand,

its plaster surface having taken on the quality and depth of fl esh.

Other groups worked with various skins of latex and mesh, and with faceted me-

tallic textiles. One group imagined the condition of interiority formed by the undula-

tions of a vast illuminated array: a landscape evoked by sound as a fi eld vessel rather

than object container. Another worked with a complex system of fi nely woven and

stitched veils, activating the interior of their Vessel through projected light. Others

used their own bodies as formwork, creating a Vessel of fl ayed golden skins of bees-

wax. The music of Paul D Miller aka DJ Spooky was responded to by the exploration

of the interstitial space between a skin of tripe (the lining of a cow’s stomach) and its

plaster cast negative, a most unusual material choice, but with surprisingly beautiful

results that opened profound tectonic potential and the conceptual frame of the dop-

pelganger as spatial model, again derived from the sonic provocation (Figs. 9-6 to 9-10).

Each of these approaches was seen to be a valid response to its particular piece,

in that it had originated in relation to the provocation of the work, and through its

discussion and refi nement had evolved in close relation to the original sonic sample.

Rather than prescribing a methodology, the studio emphasised a process of attentive

evaluation, looking for that which was most compelling or alive within each proposi-

tion to defi ne a way of moving the work ahead.

Opposite, top to bottom: Figure 9-1. Video stills from preliminary water/ink reversal studies in response to DeJohnette’s “Gateway.”; Figure 9-2. Preparation, casting and storage of individual ice sheets with the Canadian winter as willing accomplice and fi nal installation at West Courtyard, School of Architecture; Figure 9-3. Base lighting detail, and one of a series of interior studies of the Gateway Vessel. Students: Huff, Storus, Triebner.

On Translation 105

106 Geoffery Thün

Resonant Chamber

I propose then a theatre in which the physical images crush and hypnotize the sensibil-

ity of the spectator seized by the theatre as by a whirlwind of higher forces…A theatre

which, abandoning psychology, recounts the extraordinary, stages natural confl icts,

natural and subtle forces, and presents itself fi rst of all as an exceptional power of redi-

rection. (Artaud, 1938. p82-83)

The fi nal project for the design of a large scale institutional building entitled the

Canadian Centre for Sonic Art combines the public programmes of a performing arts

centre with the private reclusive programmes of a research institute located on one of

three urban sites—hence, a hybrid institution. Each design proposition was required

to draw upon previous investigations to defi ne an experience of both the building and

its attendant public spaces through the consideration of an architecture of the sens-

es—to propose a resonant place.

Unique to the project was the requirement that a sequence of three public rooms—

as exterior and/or interior spaces—were to be developed in the absence of a particu-

lar programme, supporting instead a range of informal sonic occupancies. The scale

of each space, its spatial character and material resolution were to be determined by

its author. Each space was to be conceived of in states of both fullness and emptiness

both in terms of its sonic and human occupation. These public spaces would form an

extension and link to the public space of the city; however, they were to be confi gured

to permit operational fl exibility in terms of their accessibility by the eventual adminis-

tration of the Centre. Students were asked to produce a continuous sectional drawing

leading from an exterior space of arrival, through a space of entry and orientation to

an interior space of pause rendered to describe their spatial and material ambitions

for these three spaces and the relationships between them.

Throughout the fi nal project, students worked again in a manner similar to their

previous projects—that is, through a constant process of working across scales, me-

dia, and dimensions. This iterative cycle was again punctuated by moments of repose

and refl ection in which students and faculty would collectively assess the degree to

which projects were achieving the essence of a proposition. Although they had fear-

lessly been able to speculate in the translation of the initial attempt to translate a pas-

Opposite, top to bottom: Figure 9- 4. Preliminary model studies; Figure 9-5. Manufacturing components; image of rift opening at fi nal casting and burnished surface. The sensuous fl esh-like fi nish of the fi nal Blanchard Vessel. Students: Davis, Moore, Trussell; Figure 9-6. Preliminary studies in steel and latex, in response to “Fratres” by Arvo Part. Image of fi nal vessel in blackened steel mesh and cast latex steel. Detail at latex seam; Figure 9-7. View of interior from below installed Vessel (after Borromini). Students: Beaulieu, Graham, Hashimoto, Patterson.

On Translation 107

108 Geoffery Thün

sage of sound into a spatial construct, the struggle to master the exigencies of a com-

plex building and public space scheme at times seemed daunting. In the studio, the

faculty assured students that their insights into the original translation were of abso-

lute relevance in this potentially more daunting task.

Student Allan Wilson’s proposal disposed its programme along the length of To-

ronto’s Keating Channel pier. The project’s enclosure was confi gured as a series of

steel skins characterized by rifts permitting one to move in and out of the project along

its length. A sequence of interstitial spaces organised major programmatic elements

forming a lengthy ambulation where one’s experience vacillates between interiority

and framed views back to the city. Along the fractured length of the project, separate

ordinal systems collide, forming a dynamic spatial confi guration in which the entire

public sequence of the project is imagined as a vast stage set of dramatic experiences

and effects (Figs. 9-11 to 9-12).

Allison Janes’ proposition similarly engaged the notion of layered space, using a

system of banding to organise primary programmatic and planimetric relationships.

Each layer evoked varying characteristics of materiality, scale and proximity. Passing

through each of these thresholds allows one to experience different sonic and visual

qualities either as one simply encounters these exterior passages in the city, or as one

enters the project. Interior spatial volumes and material differentiation continue the

intent of this extended spatial threshold to the interior (Fig. 9-13).

The challenge of construction in the last exercise posed a very different set of is-

sues for studio participants than the challenge of discovery of the fi rst exercise—or

rather, the challenge was perceived very differently. The inherent abstraction of the

fi rst translation from sound to space appeared to permit a natural entry in to the realm

of the imaginative. In the last project, on the other hand, the potential to immediately

leap to a shift in scale and material rather than enter into a reverie as to the essence of

the piece constituted a distraction for most participants from the work of translation.

Perhaps as a result of both source material and outcome residing within the realm of

the spatial, work tended to operate much more in the mode of linguistic and scalar

translation, rather than easily accessing the space of the empathetic third way that

had been engaged earlier. One might postulate that it was the demand of the exigen-

cies of building that were suggestive of this tendency—that is, that the pressures to

address the complexity of architectural detail undermined the possibility of transla-

Opposite, top to bottom: Figure 9-8. Luminous interior at landscape array in response to Montego Bay Spleen by St. Germain. Steel, paraffi n wax, black walnut, incandescent luminare. Students: Kalfakis, Kalt, Navrady; Figure 9-9. Paul D Miller aka DJ Spooky’s “Nodal Flux” provoked this exploration of the interstitial between a suspended skin of tripe and its other in cast plaster. Students: Harris-Brandts, Horwood, Maemura; Figure 9-10. Sewn Vessel in stainless steel cloth and projected light studies during installation—after Palestrina’s Surge,” Illuminare.” Students: Fenuta, Gould, McCallum.

On Translation 109

110 Geoffery Thün

tion. However, the question of states of being between modes of translation is equally

likely to have resulted in the rupture of effect. When forced to translate between the

spatial towards the spatial, the capacity to visualize the abstract was arrested.

A crucial question then arises as to the potential of the translation in the act of

creation—how might we suspend the rational in order to enter the possible? How

might we substitute an algorithm that is continually morphing into alternate emo-

tional states for one that immediately calculates towards the comprehensible? The

most successful and provocative work was able to apprehend the essence of a spatial

construct for its qualities outside its material construct and in so doing, permitted an

imaginative exploration necessary for translation.

When music affects us to tears, seemingly causeless, we weep not …from excess of

pleasure; but through excess of an impatient, petulant sorrow that, as mere mortals,

we are yet in no condition to banquet upon those supernal ecstasies of which the music

affords us merely a suggestive and indefi nite glimpse. (Poe, 1840/1956, p. 433)

The exploration of the studio was thus characterized by two departures into the

realm of the aural offering very different conditions in which to test the potential of

the empathetic mode proposed at the outset of this paper. The fi rst dealt with ques-

tions of the translation of a sonic passage into spatial form and matter, while the sec-

ond focused on an exploration of the aural that would inform the essential charac-

ter of its public spaces, while responding to not only the rigours and exigencies of its

anticipated built realization but also the inherent diffi culties of entering a non- linear

mode of translation when operating within a realm where both the source and the out-

come share states of being. The interest of the studio was to consider how, through

the introduction of the aural as both an accomplice and foil to these investigations,

we might benefi t as designers from the consideration of our primordial, intuitive and

emotive response to the art of sound in imagining the possibilities of an architecture

of the senses, as well as from the fundamentally social encounter that its engagement

demands. Perhaps most importantly, these exercises suggest that if we are to draw

upon the potentials of this empathetic mode of translation, then it is precisely that

space of childlike reverie eluded to by Bachelard and accessed by Ben-Avi that one

must pursue in order to exploit the imaginative potential of these territories as both a

source of vista towards, and wellspring for, the possible worlds we seek to imagine.

Opposite, top to bottom: Figure 9-11. Light Experimentation - work in process, Wrapped in a skin of sound - textile vessel in response to Thelonious Monk’s “Off Minor”; Figure 9-12. Perspective study at Exterior public space sequence adjacent to street space, glass chamber with resonating rod installation and variable enclosure and release at exterior folly in folded sheet steel. Student: Janes; Figure 9-13. Perspective study at entry to experimental sound stage, interior study at aperture lobby perspective. Student: Wilson.

On Translation 111

112 Geoffery Thün

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