Feeling good in a place
The Philosophy of Bernard Kohn
Architecture
Architecture, the built environment, constitutes both aesthetic and poetic experiences, and also serves as a potential space for mediation between the foundations of a society and each individual.
Architecture is a concentrated expression of form-giving, a search for meaning, and the potential meaning of the environment in which we live, which can stimulate our reflection towards this predominantly individual and collective thought…
Thirty years of deconstruction of the built environment, the product of an organization dominated by a single, predominantly economic mindset, have resulted in the anarchic expansion of towns and villages, housing developments cut off from the proximity of long-standing residents, shopping centers that are merely juxtapositions of blind "boxes," and flashy, vulgar, and self-important buildings and offices…
All this heterogeneous and incoherent jumble has contributed to lulling and swaying public opinion: it sees no harm in these constructions, these neighborhoods that make a clean sweep of the existing fabric, landscapes, and specificities of environments, leaving little room for architecture and urbanism seeking to express meaning…
Why do you go to so much trouble? people ask us.
Architecture… It is the ability to create and shape places that contribute to the beauty of the world and bear witness to it, places where one feels good and that allow those who inhabit them to express and contribute to this well-being.
These are places that radiate a presence and encourage us to reveal the best in ourselves, at all scales, from vast landscapes, territorial projects, cities, networks, public spaces, blocks, buildings, down to the smallest detail of daily life.
"Small is beautiful" (E. F. Schumacher) and "God is in the detail" (L. Mies van der Rohe).
It is not necessary to be a professional or to rely on others: we all feel the difference between a good, a less good, and an outright bad place.
Feeling good in a place. It's a bit like feeling comfortable in one's own skin; this could be the wish of all inhabitants, and of any architect who respects themselves and those who are the recipients of their projects.
Conversely, feeling good in a place can, starting from one's home, from the most intimate, overflow, pass from inside to outside, cross the threshold, walk through the alleys, reach the public square and natural spaces.
It is a way of learning to look, to listen, to walk, to speak, to move around, to inscribe one's body in space, to meet others.
There are many people who don't know where to place themselves, how to inhabit their bodies, their inner selves, the city, and how to approach others.
To be haunted by this question of well-being—to create, to give, to share—is a matter of method and ethics.
There is a human logic to all this, a coherence, life and work inextricably woven together, always returning to the initial spark, as in an encounter.
Feeling good in a place is another way of asking what purpose an architect or urban planner serves.
There are places that seem to have always inscribed their place in space and human history, whose harmony and beauty continue to live on and enchant and inspire those who inhabit or approach them.
We speak of the genius loci.
There is the city that is made and unmade, constantly rebuilding itself.
There are the earth, rivers, air, and trees, loved or mistreated, that continue to call for help and respect.
There is all space to consider.
Learning to inhabit the world, to make it habitable.
Where to begin?
Bernard Kohn and Françoise Séloron
