Patrick Lynch, Urban rooms in Westminster, 2013. Pencil, pen and ink and colour pencil on paper.
These images show a series of buildings and public spaces designed over the past decade on Victoria Street, some made intuitively in meetings, others in contemplation, and others as a way to try to communicate something. They also formed part of my PhD submission, and so are sometimes attempts to make visible an argument or a specific reading of a place.
Patrick Lynch, Façade axonometric of Victoria Street Library, 2011. Graphite pencil drawing superimposed on digital drawing in Photoshop.
Patrick Lynch, Study for balcony on Victoria Street, 2011. Digital collage.
Drawn as a series of more or less public rooms, the interiors and thresholds of Westminster reveal the interpenetration of rituals and theatrical life into almost every aspect of city life there. In this landscape of playing surfaces the ludic character of civic culture is evident in the recurrence of the festive gate as an architectural trope.
Patrick Lynch, Urban rooms, Victoria Street, 2006–2013, 2013. Pencil, pen and ink and colour pencil on paper.
From the façade of Victoria Station (a quasi City Gate) to the baldacchino in Westminster Cathedral, the proscenium arch that frames both inner and outer faces of the Victoria Palace Theatre, etc. The city appears as physiognomic silhouettes, armatures, bodily faces, and as a network of horizontal and vertical stage sets, set up for the drama of urban life.
Patrick Lynch, Sketch of Kings Gate penthouse, 2011. Graphite pencil and watercolour drawing enhanced on Photoshop.
In Gadamer's terms – described in Truth and Method and The Relevance of the Beautiful – play is the key to understanding culture as generative and redemptive. It's helpful, he suggests, to see all human life as more or less serious play: from rhythmic bodily movements (with or without balls); to dressing up; to song and dance; to language acquisition; to the theatrical performances of professional life (the costumes and self conscious roles played by judges, committee chairs, even doctors, etc.); to religious festivals (all more or less rhythmic and cyclical performances); to the ‘sacred games of art’ (Schiller).
Patrick Lynch, South Facade of Victoria Street Library, 2011. Graphite and watercolour pencil on digital print of collage by Miller Hare and Lynch Architects.
Patrick Lynch and Hilary Kolb-Sassen, South facade of Victoria Street Library with initial proposals for sculptural figures of the nine muses, 2011. Pencil on digital drawing.
This way of thinking is, I believe, particularly powerful for design, redeeming architectural creativity from the dead ends of useless beauty on the one hand, and pointless production on the other. It also helps us see cities in terms of what Peter Carl calls Civic Depth, rather than as public or private space (‘there is very little of a city that is purely private – perhaps the domestic loo,’ he declares in ‘Civic Depth’, Mimesis: Lynch Architects, Artifice, 2015). Rather, depth reveals itself as layers of more of less representational aspects of civic life.
Patrick Lynch, View of the library and housing from Victoria Station, c. 2011. Photoshop manipulation of collage by Miller Hare.
Understood in this way, theatricality – and in particular the sacred character of play – isn’t just evident or potentially visible in the Catholic cathedral on Victoria Street, but also in the theatre, train station and town hall – at least in my reading of it. And thus a library next to a theatre, across from a cathedral precinct, and even the space beside a town hall, are examples of degrees of theatricality, and in proximity to these public territories, the balconies of someone’s home are too.
– Patrick Lynch
On a very different kind of theatricality and play, Adolfo Natalini's Mickey Mouse and Quaderno 17; on representational aspects of civil life – objects of memory, reflection, and strategic plans – through an urban proposal of dérive, a product of ‘distraction, Anthony Vidler on Guy Debord's Guide Psychogeographique; and on the facade, and its place in the city, Caruso St. John.