Privacy and Publicity: Modern Architecture as Mass Media

Afterimage, March-April, 1996 by Lucy Bowditch

Privacy and Publicity is part of a new genre of architectural study that intends to deconstruct and renew architectural theory. Colomina, who teaches architecture at Princeton, moves beyond conventional discussions of building materials and invites a new readership, including those such as myself, a photo-historian interested in film and cultural theory. Her aim is to reevaluate preestablished conceptions of the public and private realms of culture. As one problematizes public versus private, exterior versus interior, a wealth of questions arise about how these phenomena have been constituted at different points in history.

Clean-line modern architects Charles-Edouard Jeanneret Le Corbusier and Adolf Loos (1870-1933), major figures of twentieth-century architecture, are primary vehicles for Colomina's discussion. Swiss-born Le Corbusier is an easy subject to study in relation to mass media considering he was once described by noted art historians John Flemming and Hugh Honour as "an embarrassingly superb salesman of his own ideas." Loos, born in Moravia, trained in Dresden and, like Le Corbusier, opposed to decorative Victorian ornament, has often been viewed as a more successful theorist than architect.

Colomina's insightful interpretations of Loos and Le Corbusier are only part of the over-all impact of Privacy and Publicity. Considering the book as object, its artfully designed layout and typography demand independent consideration. Each element suggests the reevaluation of more conventional, grounded perspectives in architectural history and theory. Moving from the computer screen, where Colomina no doubt composed her writings, to the book itself, one is struck by its physical nature. Although the text may argue that the meaning of Loos's or Le Corbusier's architecture be reassessed in relation to the role of mass media, the weight of the book itself is a constant reminder of architecture as "mass," not media. It is the kind of book one leaves at home because it has the weight of stone, even if the content literally dematerializes architecture. The book is just a little too big to fit comfortably in one's hands, requiring that it be rested on a lap or a desk, however, its generous weight and the smooth matte texture of the pages make it sensual and appealing to the touch.

The layout, like the content, deliberately breaks with art historical convention: specifically, the text is not punctuated by parenthetical figure references. Colomina writes about Le Corbusier or Loos, then several pages later, introduces a series of grainy photographs relating to the two protagonists, almost as an alternative narrative. Some images connect directly to the text, while others seem ancillary. The text and illustrations have independent but sui-generic lives. As Colomina points out, this strategy was employed by Le Corbusier himself in Vets une Architecture (1923). In Privacy and Publicity, the illustrations are small and centered, one to a page, surrounded by a razor-thin black line border. Interestingly, the photos appear as previously printed images with the half-tone dots made large and evident. The techniques serve as a subtle reminder that this is, after all, a book addressing mass media, in which the reproduced image is formed as a half-tone - a system of dots. Many of the illustrations are archival photos rather than images made specifically for publication. The lack of specific notations in the text and the black line surrounding discrete illustrations allows one to be in whatever place one happens to be, rather than constricting the relationship between text and image to a linear, sequential one.

That Privacy and Publicity invites new readers, i.e. those who are not strictly architectural historians or theorists, is suggested by its chapter headings: "Archive," "City," "Photography," "Publicity," "Museum," "Interior" and "Window." Under each rubric one is given close, in-depth consideration of the two giants of modern architecture. And as Colomina states, "If the research into Loos is organized by the gaps in the archive, the research into Le Corbusier is organized by archival excesses." As one might anticipate from that opening comment, much of the text focuses on Le Corbusier. The discussion of Loos sometimes acts as a foil for that of Le Corbusier.

Colomina's thesis is that "modern architecture only becomes modern with its engagement with the media." Of course engagement "with the media" is not the same as architecture "as the media," but such distinctions are not clearly made in the text. Sometimes Colomina seems to infer that the experience of mass media is a model for the experience of architecture. Elsewhere, mass-produced publications, not the buildings, exist as the history of architecture. At still other points, the house is a "media center" or, quite differently, the house becomes the media, turning into a camera itself: "The house is a system for taking pictures."

The recurring theme is modern architecture as the publicity of the private. "What kind of space results from this redrawing of boundaries?," Colomina asks. Inquiries into definitions of privacy and publicity are woven into the archive-based discussion from the outset: