The New Khora

If you're an architect, an aspiring one, an architecture enthusiast, or perhaps a client seeking inspiration, you likely follow the many digital feeds that curate architecture and design. The marketing of contemporary architecture studios has led to a flood of imagery that permeates our lives, providing us with a daily dose of #architecture. We've become accustomed to this barrage of visual content. Today, an architect’s precedent research often starts on Instagram or Google Images. While access to what other designers are “up to” has never been easier, it’s largely curated by the creators themselves. In this constant stream of images, we’ve become less critical of these fleeting moments, resulting in a blurred mix of the real and unreal, created by professionals and amateurs alike.

This feed—an ever-evolving digital ecosystem of architectural imagery—could be likened to Plato’s khora: a fluid realm of ideas that pertain to our lived experience, yet come and go, constantly shifting. It’s the undefined space of our time. Consider the interpretations of philosophers and psychoanalysts like Julia Kristeva and Slavoj Žižek, who describe the khora as a place of "differentiation and self-identity, yet still a space where elements lack identity and reason.” Current architecture imagery, emerging from this new khora, reflects the coexistence of diverse architectural theories from around the world. The meaning we derive from these pixels is shaped by the algorithms that present them to us, often diverting us from our original intent—assuming there was one.

 In the past, design thinking and the conceptual frameworks of an era were in the hands of a few. Architects, designers, and those with similar interests engaged with emerging schools of thought by reading manifestos or following the work of leading scholars. A playful analogy to this now outdated global design hierarchy can be found in The Devil Wears Prada. In the film, Miranda Priestly explains to her new assistant that the "lumpy blue sweater" she’s wearing—a symbol of her disinterest in fashion—was influenced by a cerulean gown shown by Oscar de la Renta four years prior. Miranda points out: "That blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs, and it’s comical how you think you’ve made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry when, in fact, you’re wearing a sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room." In this pre-digital order, there were no influencers—only design deities.

Today, for better or worse, the new khora places us all on equal footing.

Bibliography: Hite, Jean. Reflections on Khora: Maternal matrix of Julia Kristeva and Slavoj Zizkek's. https://jeanhite.wordpress.com/2012/02/15/reflections-on-khora. February 15, 2012

 

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