Truth in Fiction: Storytelling and Architecture

<p>Current discourse on architectural narrative suggests that a series of events or impressions of space can be ‘read’ through a sequencing of spaces and views within a building. It is presumed that a building is read in the same way as a sequence of shots in a film. In this model, architects set up a narrative which is played out through a careful construction of viewpoints and events. In practice this can lead to the manipulation of spatial experience at the sacrifice of individual interpretation, as maintaining the narrative compromises spatial experience. This stems from the fundamental difference between how we experience architecture as opposed to more traditional narratives in printed or pictorial media. The experience of space is not a linear one, nor is it bound by a strict timeline which follows from cause to effect. Unlike a novel, where the author has complete control over the pacing and focus of each scene, the architect cannot rely on others to interpret his exact intentions, or on his architecture remaining true to a single narrative over time. This research is about storytelling in architecture. Specifically, how we might better use narratives to play to the strengths of our medium. From examining current practices in publicly establishing narratives, to investigating the work of John Hejduk, this work examines how architectural narratives have been constructed in the past, and whether this has been successful. Using an analysis of three works of fiction: The Library of Babel by Jorge Luis Borges, The Castle by Franz Kafka and The House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski; I analyse the various uses of the architectural metaphor in fiction and how these fictional spaces have been used as characters within their individual narratives. I use design to develop a process which takes a basic house plan and applies a non-linear narrative to it. This narrative is not concerned with a single interpretation. This process creates spaces imbued with the stories of the novels studied, and of my role as designer. Yet they may also be reinterpreted again by a new viewer to give a kind of immortality to the story. The architecture continually adapts itself to new experiences and understandings. Finally, I argue that we do have the ability to use storytelling within architecture to enrich our spaces without resorting to the manipulation of the user. If we return to the cyclic and layered model of storytelling, as opposed to the linear structure of narrative, then our buildings will not only tell our stories more clearly, but also for longer as they appeal to the changing fashions, experiences and applied narratives of the people who use them, remaining relevant to the world of experience.</p>