Books
The Work of Vector Architects
Gong Dong raises buildings to stir emotions. Many architects are able to, but few make this the purpose of their practice, let alone so explicitly; it may be an effect of intellectualism to want to unearth the most emotive words from discourses. The new book on the work of Vector, the office he set up in 2008, is clear on this: its creations come as much from the heart as from the head, and their communion with places and tradition yields timeless constructions.
With its graphic allure, the sketches and photos of projects are powerful conveyors of this poetic, but the reader wonders if the essays take part in equal measure. A poem requires no grammar to stir souls; its essence is the musical miracle. Vector’s architecture needs no academic exegesis to prove its exquisite sensitivity and phenomenological power. The framings of landscape, the play of chiaroscuros, and the patina of the materials speak for themselves. An alert perusal contextualizes and clarifies, but the texts structuring the monograph undergo what translations from shi do; some of their enigmatic melody gets lost in the margin annotations.
The writing is good; the fault lies in too much light thrown on simple intentions, which, dissected, lose the halo of an ancient culture: Dong trained in the West, yet only the mention of Hai Zi amid so much Le Corbusier or Merleau-Ponty conjures up China’s lyrical reality. The architect recaps the theme more evocatively, but maybe he should have done like the Mendelssohn leaving his Lieder wordless, not to express feelings too indefinite but, on the contrary, too definite.
