What Is Gained and What Is Lost by Analysing Spatial Forms Such As Buildings As Symbolic Representations
What Is Gained and What Is Lost by Analysing Spatial Forms Such As Buildings As Symbolic Representations
What Is Gained and What Is Lost by Analysing Spatial Forms Such As Buildings As Symbolic Representations
representations?’
Analyses of spatial forms such as buildings can allow for valuable insight into ‘symbolic representations’
of societal organisation and cultural identity. As highlighted by the work of Saussure, symbols remain
vital conduits for human distinction, often functioning as method of mutual coherence and
communication. Anthropologists can therefore gain understandings of the ‘collective consciousness’
through the study of spatial forms; however, by restricting oneself purely to this approach, may risk
losing their intricacy and ‘liveliness’. Despite their seemingly static concrete matter, forms such as
buildings experience constant regeneration and reinterpretation, as I shall explore, as a result of the
swathes of connections between the iconic and the material. This includes Durkheim’s recognition of
individual response within a larger collective consciousness, who can arguably be described as an ‘affect
theorist’ in his discussion as to how the ‘soul’ is influenced by collective effervescence
(Durkheim,1915;223). Individualised perceptions of symbols make up their inherent complexity, shaped
by unconscious bodily reaction and the individual’s role in a wider socioeconomic framework. Thus,
whilst a focus on the semiotic value of spatial forms are prevalent, this must be married to an
understanding of how their actual physicality influences symbolic representation, alongside their various
functional uses. As Keane powerfully argues, ‘signs are not the garb of meaning’; by gaining
understanding of meaningful symbolic expression, we should not lose the complexity of interrelations
between the material and conceptual worlds by dematerialising them completely (Keane, 2005;183-184).
Spatial forms, in their visible materiality, serve as important mechanisms for making the ‘collective
consciousness’ mutually coherent. The building in particular stands as a prominent forefront in social
relations, a result of it being clearly publicly known, as a site of cultural representation and conceptual
embodiment. Analysis of spatial forms therefore acquires vital insight into personal and collective
identity, a vehicle for making identity coherent and visibly distinguishable from others. Through these
collective symbolic representations, men can ‘access’ each other, and ‘glimpses a whole intellectual
world… that is greater than he’, an understanding which occurs not only between individuals within the
same social system, but also between anthropologist and the subject of study (Durkheim, 1915;438). For
instance, the architectural components of Sumbanese houses in eastern Indonesia (namely the four pillars,
each representing the main principles of Sumbanese life) serve as a microcosm for the entire moral and
cultural order (Keane, 1995;104). This begins to explore how symbolic representations act as tangible
manifestations of collective belief, and therefore of the collective itself. As Durkheim explores through
his analysis of totemism, the ‘god’ of the clan that is worshipped is technically the clan itself, simply
‘transfigured and reimagined into a physical totem’, since the complexity and vastness of the clan
requires consolidation to be understood (Durkheim, 1915;208). The physical attributes of the totem itself,
Durkheim concludes, are secondary to its actual use as a tool for identification and distinction of the clan.
In this light Durkheim’s understanding of symbolic representation converges with Saussure’s structuralist
theory, built upon his analysis of language systems. Saussure emphasises the ‘synchronic solidarity’ of
symbols existing in opposition to one another, simultaneously giving the other identity and definition,
with symbols only capable of being understood in reference to a whole (Saussure, 1959;87). Like
Durkheim, Saussure points to the importance of collectivity, with language utilised as a way of
synthesising social concepts and a ‘sound-image’ rather than an object and a name (Saussure, 1959; 66).
Buildings therefore stand as emblems of cultural and historic significance, sites of collective and self
identity that act parallel and in contrast to other symbols. Korowai houses are built with vast distances
between them, indexing a separate clan into a particular stretch of land which makes them distinctly
politically and internally autonomous, a separation emphasised by the steep climb to reach the house; in
contrast, Korowai longhouses, built for the purposes of a feast, merge peoples across the land into one
space as a vehicle for social inclusion and interaction, constructed to show ease of entry (Stasch,
2011;336, 2003;363). Analyses of buildings therefore gain a core understanding of the societal order they
are able to embody, as a conduit for distinction and identification. Buildings provide recognition of values
not only for those within the social fabric, allowing for mutual coherence through the material world, but
also for the anthropologist, who can approach buildings as a space where collective beliefs are
encapsulated.
Such interpretations have significance in gaining awareness of the construction of the components of the
wider social order, pressed into the spatial form. However, not to expand past this approach risks cleaving
the house away from its continuous interaction from human beings - it holds the possibility of losing its
dynamism by seemingly presenting it as an indepent, fully constituted embodiment of the collective in its
entirety. This constrains understanding of the spatial form by making it solely a material object we ‘hang’
meaning onto, negating its dual sensory and functional qualities. Semiotic importance of buildings must
be merged with its functional importance to understand how these collective concepts interact with
everyday human life. The Korowai longhouse and its festivities is a site of numerous collective
representations, but is also an instrument for practical purposes, like keeping fires and people dry,
eliciting cooperative work and grub development (Stasch, 2003;380). Functional links must be recognised
as ‘fully continuous and co-mediative’ with more iconic aspects to gain a cohesive understanding of the
centrality of spatial forms in human life, which is what a purely semiotic approach risks abandoning
(Stasch, 2003;380).
Additionally, spatial forms must be recognised as physical manifestations that continuously play on
human perception and sensory experience. Saussure’s representation of symbols presents too static an
approach, removing the individual from their application. In arguing that symbols rarely experience
innovation, Saussure wrongly forgoes how everchanging contextual and sensory experience means that
even language is constantly being reinterpreted and recontextualised by individual persons. This presents
a clear contrast to Durkheim, whilst arguing the superiority of the ‘collective consciousness’, recognises
the importance of individualised perception; ‘we all use the same words without giving them the same
meaning’ (Durkheim, 1915;437). Affect theory emphasises the need for symbols to be linked with the
particular moment interpretation occurs, which is continuously prevalent in our understanding of material
and spatial forms. Newell’s exploration of hoarding describes how the physicality of space plays itself out
on human senses, for instance the ‘heaviness’ of the environment, the feeling of dust and the smell of the
area (Newell, 2018;4). Such physical, tangible aspects draw about intangible significations, as
occurrences of hoarding are commonly imbued with deep emotional connection and memory (Newell,
2018;4). Symbolic representations are inherently tied to a material realm - ‘all communicative acts must
be mediated by materiality’, which connects them to various values and qualities (Newell 2018; 10).
Affect theory further recognises how we unconsciously absorb the outside world into sensory experience,
for instance, the physical response elicited from the body when we see smoke, which denotes fire
(Newwell, 2018;3). What Keane terms ‘bundling’ describes how symbols, through spatial expression, are
inevitably tied with several physical attributes which allow for the creation of new signs and meanings
(Keane, 2005;188). Thus, in contrast to Saussure’s static and concretely ‘defined’ symbolic presentation
of language, in this light meaning is constantly remade through material attributes and individual sensory
experience. This multiplicity of language can be explored in the verbalisation of the house in
Anakalangese ritual practice. In describing the ritual to the anthropologist, the ritual specialist clan
member describes the house in purely referential terms; this contrasts the same ritual speech that is used
within the ritual itself, which is utilised as a conduit for communication with ancestral spirits (Keane,
1995;114). In the ritual, the house is ‘entextualised’, transformed as a verbal object through the ceremony
and made into a formal structure, part by part (Keane, 1995;102). As Keane highlights, the use of
language to transform space into symbolic representation is based upon the contexts in which it is used, as
the actual words in question do not differ (Keane, 1995;115). Analyses of spatial forms symbolic
representations must therefore take on a complex duality in understanding both the semiotic and material
attributes embedded within them. Whilst buildings often have intricate symbolic significance, it can be
too easy to negate how their physicality interacts with both human bodies and the world around them,
therefore losing its ability to be reinterpreted by individual perception within everyday life.
Lastly, an analysis of spatial forms as symbolic representations should not omit wider sociocultural
constraints that shape the form of the building itself, but also individual perception of it. An analysis of
buildings which treats it as an entirely cohesive reflection of cultural values loses an acknowledgement of
how spatial forms interact differently with different individuals in the same society. Miller explicitly links
his study of changing kitchen spaces in council houses to modes of consumption, arguing against the view
that consumption is ‘passive’, rather, tenants are made to continuously participate in the remaking of their
environments as a result of the distributive mechanisms of the state (Miller, 1988;354). He acknowledges
the societal constraints that work upon spatial forms, including limited economic resources, as well as the
tenant’s lack of knowledge about the extent to which they are permitted to modify their homes (Miller,
1988;365). Important is Miller’s recognition not only of how tenants attempt to model a space they feel
alienated from, but how this varies across different families; for instance, lone, solitary men were found to
have the most sparse kitchens with very little modification, whilst a majority added smaller changes that
imbued the space with familiarity, like postcards, drawings, and other symbols of family life (Miller,
1988;362). Analysis of spatial forms thus requires an understanding of the wider socioeconomic factors
that modify its meanings not only materially but cognitively, as evidenced by the feeling of alienation and
futility certain tenants experienced in relation to their homes. Additionally, an individual’s interaction,
and therefore interpretation, of space is similarly shaped by larger societal dynamics. Some kitchens were
reflections of ideas around gendered space, with the kitchen delegated entirely to the woman. Termed
‘kitchen birds’, some women felt very strongly connected to their kitchens, forming their own identities
and manifesting their own values through the space (Miller, 1988;358). Similarly, the Korowai house
embodies gendered ideas, with the division between man and woman physically manifested through a
wall dividing the space into two halves. Men and women form separate attachments to their respective
sides, and despite this stratification both find comfort and belonging within their ‘halves’ (Stasch,
2011;338). Therefore, analysis of spatial forms like buildings can give the anthropologist a deeper
understanding of societal dynamics, and must be seen as constructed by cultural and material conditions.
Despite spatial forms having a constant physical form, it is through variations of affectiveness and the
lens of societal factors that give it an ever changing symbolic significance.
To conclude, analysis of spatial forms offer many opportunities for the anthropologist, as prominent and
explicit manifestations of the ‘collective consciousness’. Anthropologists have a lot to gain from their
study, as a site of interplay between social concepts and the material world. In some instances, buildings
are the forefront of societal understanding, as ‘microcosms’ for the social order. However, analysis
strictly limited to semiotic value risks losing valuable insight into how materiality produces constant
reinterpretation. By depicting them solely as static, iconic representations, the importance of individual
perception is lost. Spatial forms are ‘bundled’ with various physical attributes, which promote the
generation of new signs; simultaneously, this physicality creates affective consequences that renegotiate
the individual’s position in relation to the building. Buildings are not independent reflections of social and
cultural dynamics, but change with the tide of human interaction. In contrast to Saussure’s concrete
approach to the symbolic attributes of language, words are constantly recontextualised and given new
meaning, as evidenced by the multiplicity of ritual language by the Anakalangese. Spatial forms therefore
communicate with people through both semiotic and functional value, which is furthered by the influence
of unconscious bodily reaction and wider societal structures. A comprehensive analysis of space requires
the acknowledgement of how it actually transcends its very material form in these various ways, or
anthropologists risk losing the actual dynamism they inhabit.
Bibliography
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