Why the interest of death in architecture…

In the last 3 years of study in architecture, the choice of material was a thorough way for me to get into the study of the conditions of built form.

Beginning with bamboo in 2008, the material when broken was followed

by the reciprocating strands that allowed me to delve into finding form through action.

In the following year (2009), I was awed by a castle in the woods, a castle that I had spent living across the street from before immigrating to Canada. The castle had degenerated in less than 30 years into crumbling sand and collapsing wood beams. I had stared out my window and played in these woods for years and not once noticed its slow death but only remember it being a grand fortress. As a child, it was my forbidden playground that I was told not to play in… but being the devilish child I once was…

I couldn't resist.

This lead to the initial investigation into the degeneration of skin (surfaces) in both animal and architectural bodies which allowed a further investigation into the degeneration of architecture and it’s affect on the human psyche but also on the potentials in building from whatever matter is left behind. Time began to play a critical role in the materials used(clay).

And today, the lingering interest lays in the condition of

“what then of death?”

Why does this afflicting desire keep drawing me into building from death? Or is it that I am drawn not to death itself but to the condition left behind… am I simply trying to pick up pieces to a shattered puzzle?

My understanding is that this desire has sniffed its way into the abandoned house of my late uncle, who’s slow decay even in his physical presence withered away together in simultaneity.

Through this uncanny parallel, both human body/character and architectural body/character seem to be uniquely similar… and the more time I spend in this house and listen to the stories of the inquisitive neighbors about the farm and my uncle, the more I find myself engulfed in the right trajectory of interpreting if not for others at least for myself the significance in sense of place, the role of architecture in our rather illusively short lives and why we find the need to continuously build even amongst the ruins.