Bunkers and shelters: stories of power and fear

The latest generation of powerful are exploring alternative solutions to the natural habitat, financing projects to create artificial spaces far from the earth's surface. Some aim at hyperspace, others at underground shelters. However, if we needed to escape our world, is there any hope of leading a happy life underground? And how convenient can be investing so much money in these projects?

“Who wants to live forever... (when love must die)”, a song from the soundtrack for the 1986 film Highlander, reflects on the anguish of immortality and overcoming the death of loved ones. Even if it was possible to create a large place for a large community, we would face a long period of psychological and physical discomfort. Not only does love die, but beauty also fades. Who would, or rather, who could, live underground for a long time, without access to the light of the sky and an outside space, especially after experiencing how depressing an isolated life can be? Perplexity persists despite the awareness that the new survival shelters offer every comfort and present themselves as luxury homes. But luxury is not synonymous with beauty and, even if we can reproduce an environment similar to the natural one, how can we not fear the precariousness of a totally isolated and secret system?

SKYLIGHTS THAT OPEN ONTO VIRTUAL SKIES SIMULATE NATURE IN LUXURIOUS ATMOSPHERE

The market for bunkers homes has been growing in various parts of the world, and result attractive especially to the new emerging rich. In the US and the former USSR, old Cold War command centers and storage facilities have been transformed into survival condos and exclusive hangouts. More recently built secret villas are on sale in New Zealand, becoming topic of conversation among Hollywood stars and high-level athletes. But the claim to create independent and closed artificial systems always turns out to be utopian, and not only because freedom to move and explore distant and different places is what makes our planet the best place to live, but above all because the technology that promises safety and efficiency generates a persecutory mechanism among those who are excluded from it, starting from curiosity and ending to desire to invade.

The Gated Communities of the 70s are already demonstrating the failure of the defensive and closed attitude. The “security drift” fueled the desire of safety in the short term, guaranteed by the exclusivity of access to these protected places, but in the long term it made the outside less familiar and more threatening, requiring ever more courage and strength for facing everyday life. In the case of the bunker on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, the owner - guess who - tried to keep the project secret, imposing a ban on all workers, from architects to painters, from disclosing information about the structure, under penalty of dismissal. The construction site is protected by a 6 meter high wall, but the intention to maintain secrecy had the opposite effect: it stimulated curiosity for disclosure of details. Important information was revealed, such as the size of the surface (approximately 460 mq) and the cost of the operation (270 million dollars). The project is also rumored to include disc-shaped treehouses and vast cultivation fields, perhaps in the hope that natural or man-made emergencies will be short-lived, allowing people to enjoy open spaces as an alternative to the large underground home. The latter extends along a tunnel with over 30 rooms linking two opposite vertical connections to the surface containing offices, conference rooms and a professional kitchen. If this huge investment allows for an honest movement of money then we can welcome it, at least from an ethical and ecological point of view. The scale of intervention is relatively small, not very invasive as regards its ugliest part, and may have a future as evidence of yet another sad story of delirium of omnipotence and control, of fears and escapes.

The BOrbonic Tunnel of 1853

There are numerous testimonies of attempts to control contingent realities in the past, interesting not only from an architectural point of view, but above all for the clear and easy reading of certain social and political dynamics. The desire for change and the achievement of new economic, political and social balances have always generated tensions and therefore interventions in the territory by the powerful of the time. Two very well-known examples in Italy are "the Passetto di Borgo” conceived in 1227, and the more recent Borbon Tunnel built in 1853. The first, an elevated pedestrian passage approximately 800m long that connects the Vatican with Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome, had the purpose to allow the Pope to take refuge in adrian's mole in case of danger, while the second was created in Naples, designed by the architect Enrico Alvino, as a safe escape route for the Borbon monarchs, given the risks they had run during the uprisings of 1848. The well-sheltered place then became a refuge from bombing during the Second World War and was enriched with other objects of the time, becoming a major tourist attraction.

To attenuate the claustrophobic sensations these stories have just arisen, let's conclude with an all-Italian project from 2016, which aims at alternative life solutions in space (see photo below). The idea envisioned is for a cis-lunar city module with 1000 individuals located in different residential areas (neighborhoods) in orbit and on the Moon, in the hypothesis of an orbital interchange node with 100 people. The spaces are designed on principles of democracy and inclusion, trying, at least on paper, to minimize internal conflicts between the inhabitants, and abandoning the logic of selecting passengers, as has been done so far with astronauts. The anguish developed at the idea of ​​underground bunkers is replaced here by a smile at the thought of a hyperspatial future. This solution doesn’t sound innovative at all, for the expectations fed by the last moon landing taking place over fifty years ago.

Anyway we hope the new generations will experience that not as an escape, but just as a new way of spending vacations.

2016 – ORBITECTURE, STAZIONE ORBITANTE, INFLATABLE SYSTEM, by PICA_CIAMARRA_ASSOCIATI

Architecture as applied science

On November 29th, on the occasion of webinar “ GESTALTART among Art, Therapy and Neuroscience”, organized by the MaRT of Rovereto (TN) and the UrLA association, I talked about the relationship that binds architecture, neuroscience and psychology together. The thematic context of the conference could not have been more appropriate, since it is in the Gestalt movement that the so called neo-humanism roots (the new cultural context that underlies the paradigm of design) lie. At its own time the perceptual theory of Gestalt realized how the experience of reality is the result of an individual interpretation, and that the objectivity of phenomena does not count for a qualitative evaluation of space. Kurt Lewin's field theory, also of Gestalt matrix, extended the attention from processes of perception to social and group ones, and explained how our behaviors depend on living spaces as well as on the people living there.

Unfortunately, the movement lacked solid scientific evidence that would explain the perceptual and behavioral phenomena detected, but it has the merit of having set up, later on, a new path of investigation, an interdisciplinary applicative area that would validate the results in a purely scientific field, besides stimulating further investigation.

Awareness of interaction between human and the environment, and the subsequent availability of scientific evidence in the new millennium, has elevated (neuro)architecture to the rank of applied science. Neuroarchitecture is a practice that can be considered therapeutic, or even better, salutogenic, because it does not cure illness generated by unhealthy spaces, but prevents it, creating the conditions for well-being at 360 degrees. The various scientific references of this new interdisciplinary approach concern mainly cognitive sciences, neurophysiology and psychology, but other disciplines which apparently seem very distant , such as biology, genetics, mathematics and physics, play also an important role.

Wilson introduced the term biophilia thanks to his book published in 1981, and with it the biophilic hypothesis was born. Such hypothesis not only explains principles such as beauty, good and fair, but also yields to further investigations in biological and epigenetic fields.

A more mathematical approach is represented by the "spatial syntax" (Space Syntax), which is an analysis methodology that translates social and individual behaviors into graphs and matrices, and is capable of expressing the qualitative aspects of space with numerical data, predicting its ability to attract or repel people according to set targets. Anticipating future scenarios and controlling over any perturbative phenomena become a very useful tool to ensure the success of artifacts, whatever are their scale of intervention.

Another numerical interpretation concerns fractals. The fractal is the invariant geometric entities which, repeating themselfs in different scales, helps to decode the shapes that surround us and distinguish simple shapes from complex ones. The analysis of fractals helps to decipher the subliminal messages that the geometries of the environment transmit to our unconscious, and capture the delicate balance between complexity and simplicity, that is the tension that exists between the annoying and tiring stimulus and the boring and flat one.

But the science of design doesn't end here. Other important interactions and contaminations, in addition to the scientific ones, support the design theory in an open and infinite process. The science of design exists, (we can finally give a positive answer to Gropius' question of 1947 (1)), but it will never be exact, because it evolves according to an asymptotic curve, which tends to dominate the complex and dynamic reality, without but never succeed completely. 

The Krebs Cycle of Creativity shown below manages, better than words, to express this strong creative tension that binds together not only architecture and science, but also art and technology (engineering), going beyond the relationship of two to we are already used to. The relationship between art and design is easily understood since the two disciplines distinguished themselves after being born and lived for a long period as one.

Later on it is technology to go through the same kind of emancipation, when the industrial revolution separates skills (art and technique) that once coincided. The last decades are getting us used and familiarized with a new phenomenon, the close collaboration between art and technology. The interactive art installations are capable to express new emotions through a new and more democratic language than the one expressed by painting and sculpture, although theancestral purpose of analyzing, breaking down and highlight the most mysterious aspects of our life are unchanged.

  In this complex relationship of four, a double dichotomy and tension is created between the eternal and fixed principles of nature, and what, instead, is the result of a continuous evolution of culture and behavior, which constantly redefines necessity and utility of the acquired data (the artificial). Trivially, if this process worked perfectly and the right interactions occurred with the right timing, the creative product would be perfect and there would be no difference between artificial and natural, but this is not the case.

“The relationship between science, engineering, design and art is just like a clock, where you constantly shifting and moving from one domain to another, and the input for one domain becomes the output for another. Science converts information into knowledge, engineer converts knowledge into utility, design converts utility into culture behavior and context, and art converts the culture behavior and question our perception of the world. And when art meet science, it’s the Cinderella moment in the 12 o’clock.”

Quote above by Neri Oxman, ex model, designer and professor at the MIT Media Lab, where she leads the Mediated Matter research group. She created the above Krebs Cycle of Creativity.

Note (1) . Walter Gropis, Is There a Science of Design? Auckland University College, School of Architecture, 1954

Who is afraid of the dark?

There is a great need for anthropized spaces to be comfortable and give opportunities for reflection and introspection. Cities have existed for several millennia and have always represented, despite the simplicity of their earliest period, physical realities that shape and preserve our spiritual, social and cultural identity. Yet, recently, urban centers are being transformed into mere systems of connection between residences, activities and services, in which stressors that become chronic and turn into neurosis and schizophrenia are silently triggered.

BUdapest at dusk Img by Giulia scione

Urban walks are very powerful in marking our daily experience and shaping our life, as the systemicity and constancy of their frequency are stronger than the most regenerating but sporadic naturalistic experiences. The biophilic hypothesis explains how beneficial and therefore necessary it is to enrich the urban landscape with natural elements, such as water and green, but very little is said about how dangerous it is to deprive man of a fundamental experience for his life cycle and the physiology of his visual system: the dark.

The dark has become the scapegoat of the degradation phenomenon of many urban areas, since the poorly lit areas seem to get a higher perception of risk, which lead to abandon and to degradation. Therefore urban lighting has become a discriminating factor for the quality of life of a neighborhood: the more the areas are illuminated, the more inviting they are, and the greater the success guaranteed for commercial activities. The glow of the metropolitan areas of today produces a diffused light on a territorial scale of 4 lux, which is equivalent to 4 times the glow generated by the full moon. A distorted lighting condition may have an impact on our organism.

Our visual system has been programmed for a photopic (diurnal) vision, but also for a scotopic (nocturnal) vision. The human eye has two distinct types of photoreceptors at the bottom of the retina for these two visual modes. The cones respond to the colors, the shapes, the details of the central view, while the “slower” rodes, responsible of the peripheral sight, respond better to dim light and let us grasp the movement and perceive the surrounding reality in a typical night sky condition.

Does everyday life still offer experience of the dark or this is another important natural condition that is denied to us?

Back to the previous statement about our need to live in a more intimate and comfy environment, it must be said that the concept of darkness is closely linked to the experience of silence, of the vague and therefore of tranquility.

Dark Art Room by

““Do we need darkness to perceive more?””

This is a question asked by C. Tomara in her article about impressions on the PLDC2019 event, in particular for the Dark Art Room installation. Here the author points out how wonderful and at the same time under stimulated it is our visual ability to adapt to the dark.

This consideration reminded me of my recent personal and quite different experience. Recently I found myself retracing a street of my hometown, which was completely dark due to a temporary blackout. My mental state in that moment, quite nostalgic and slightly melancholy, distracted me from the fear of continuing my journey, and despite the darkness, I felt a strong invitation to throw myself into it, to try a new (or forgotten) feeling. The familiarity of the road has certainly helped in reducing the perception of danger, and, instead, let me enjoy the positive feeling of quiet. I felt a strong contact with nature and the positivity of a heartening experience, capable of generating detachment from the anthropized, although I was fully surrounded by cemented volumes, I could feel the asphalt under my feet and see cars driving next to me.

I had a very similar experience, as adult, the first time I walked through fog. The impossibility of perceiving the details of objects and a pervading and diffuse light not returning any depth of the visual field, made me isolate from the reality of the external world and drove me to dialogue with myself.

Foggy urban street

Science could explain this phenomenon of empathy. During the phase of falling asleep, or even that of daydreaming, electroencephalography (EEG), which records the electrical activity of the brain, detects an accentuated activity of the alpha waves in conjunction with a certain visual torpor. We can assume that, vice versa, by creating torpor in vision we can trigger pseudo-dream mental states. The explanation could be in the fact that a poor restitution of the details, of the shapes, of the contrast due to a diffused light on all our visual field, brings us into a dimension detached from reality as we normally perceive it, because it is not typical of the everyday experience.

The visual experience in the diurnal fog is neither the scotopic vision -because it is not a matter of darkness- nor does it allow the central vision, capable of restoring the details and colors of things. Everything is then shaded in a timeless and a-spacial dimension that inevitably leads to a meditative introspection, even more than darkness can make.

The difference between the experience in the dark and the fog lies in the fact that in the first case we can count on minimal but effective space references: just a 0.006 Lux light, which is typical of the night with a starry sky, allows us, through the slow but effective rods activation, to perceive shapes, contours, movements, and therefore to decode the body language of the people around revealing their intentions and emotions. Our being social animals predisposes us to the interpretation of the visual sets, in a sort of simultaneous elaboration of objective elements of the visual scene and the memories and knowledge recalled and combined by the associative visual cortex.

Urban light design, supported by psychophysiological reasearch, is an excellent design tool, an opportunity to mediate strong and realistic signs with induced and whispered messages, inorder to return a visual set as reassuring as possible, caable of transforming the experience of darkness from uniquely threatening to a positive opportunity for relaxing dialogue with oneself.

We should not be afraid of the dark,and not only because we need it, to fall asleep and constantly align our circadian rhythm, but also because our physiology provide the right tools to engage with it. Darkness engage our rods, prevent their atrophy, and above all, it let us look and see better inside and outside ourselves.