Gump Record

Today in 2971, Pink Floyd's epic Meddle was released

it featured songs such as:

One of these days

Happy Birthday to Annie Erin Clark aka St. Vincent

As I traveled through Germany this summer, I developed two sketching hands—one I called the “empirical sketch” and the other I called the “experiential sketch.” I routinely drew the same scenes multiple times so as to exercise and compare each hand. My goal was to find which approaches to sketching would result in the best mental comprehension of a given scene before me.

One strategy involved two sketches of the same scene by alternating between the empirical and experiential hands. By exercising both hands, I mentally comprehended the scene before me in a relatively short amount of time. Both approaches to observation were complimenting the other. For instance, the empirical sketch emphasized accurate line, perspective, and geometry. This provided the mental scaffolding for the experiential sketch, which could expound upon an already memorized structure of the drawing. In reverse, the experiential sketch provided the gestures from which an empirical structure could be derived from.

Another strategy involved sketching a scene in only one hand. By focusing on only empirical or experiential observations, I could create accurate and vivid sketches of a scene. However, in order to master such a drawing, I had to sit in one location for a much longer period of time.

This all leads to the questions: How do empirical and experiential observations accumulate? Do they correlate? And if so, what role do they play in mental comprehension and memory?

I hypothesize that both approaches to observing work in tandem with the brain’s ability to achieve comprehension. (In this experiment, the comprehension happens to be visual, though I find that other stimuli work the same way)

Let’s look a series of mental diagrams:

First notice the two timelines—one for empirical and one for experiential. Their time begins at the discovery of a scene or an object of interest. During the time spent directly engaged with the object, these observations accumulate to reach mental comprehension.

As comprehension strengthens, a memory bank begins to form. Observations of how details appeared, how systems worked, the height, size, texture, and color of the object all make up the empirical memory. Observations of the light, shadows, feelings, and emotions aroused all make up the experiential memory.

When departing the scene or object, all direct engagement immediately ends and all observations are now stored in memory. Overtime, these memories fade in order to make room for new observations elsewhere. Yet, an occasional revisit just might awaken those memories and pull them back together.

If the amount of time directly engaged with the site or object increases, so does mental comprehension and memory.

If the amount of time is shortened, the ability for memory to accrue might never be reached. Yet here in example 3, we see that one might still reach comprehension—but only if both empirical and experiential observations are working together. Notice that comprehension is not achieved when focused on only one approach.

This is a tricky zone of mental comprehension that requires more study. When does one truly comprehend something? And does this happen before, during, or after memory begins to accrue? Are these diagrams fair comparisons of empirical and experiential observations? Is there more to observing than just these two variables measured against time? I think there is. For now, these charts serve as a model.

For the entire existence of man, we have used our hands to create, invent, investigate, and make our way through time.  The act of making an object grants its maker a level of intimacy with that object that would not be possible without the physical connection that is established throughout the process of the creation.  The striking image comes to mind of a blind person examining one’s beauty not through visual observation but through the simple sense of touch. 

Historically, the architectural profession has been considered a profession of craft.  The architect was the original master builder.  This was true because of a close physical relationship between the architect and the physical construction of the design.  Divisions of labor in the construction industry along with the excessive digitalization of our field have disestablished the architect as the master builder.  The sensibility practiced by a craftsman such as the conscious manipulation of materials and the relationship between the maker and the made object is something that could be immensely beneficial for us to examine as architects.  The role that drawing plays for the architect is not simply a form of two-dimensional representation, but it is the architect’s method for investigating their design.  Therefore, rather than simply drawing lines, we imagine the third dimension that we create. We feel the materials, walk across the floors, and experience the spaces.  If this is true, and I don’t think that any architect would make the argument that drawing does not have a purpose in the design process, then the physical connection that is practiced through the act of making would provide a knowledge equal or greater to that of drawing.