The spaces we occupy

georgian-architectureArchitecture is a key front in the elite’s war to erode tradition and establish a global monoculture, from the domestic level to our public buildings and spaces.

Whatever one thinks of Foucault, a point that can be drawn from his study on panopticism in Discipline and Punish is key to understanding why this is the case: the spaces we occupy shape the spaces within.

One of the things architecture does is encode and exercise power – and power can obviously be wielded in different ways, to different ends.

I’ll give a couple of examples of this in architecture. First of all, if you visit the Sistine Chapel, you can hire trolleys with mirrors set on top, so that you can view the paintings on the ceiling without craning your head back all the time. But this can be seen as interrupting an intended effect of the room. When we tilt our heads back in such a manner, think about what happens – the jaw naturally slackens and drops, leaving us open-mouthed as we gaze upwards. The design of the room and the inclusion of the frescoes in this opulent place of worship, itself a celebration of power, therefore forces a motor reaction that mimics the facial expression we are primed to interpret as the emotional reaction of awe. The building exercises power over you physically to make you appear to react to it in a specific and befitting way.

In a quite different exertion of power, studies have proved that cramped housing puts white people off breeding – other groups not so much, if at all. A recent development in Barnet, North London, was criticised for offering “dog kennel” flats that were 40% smaller than a Travelodge room. The push for ever greater profits by builders is obviously a factor but we can also argue that domestic architecture in the West has been weaponised in the demographic replacement agenda, exercising a direct and negative influence on specific group’s breeding habits.

The key role of architecture as a mechanism of power in a healthy society should be to encode the identity of a culture and a people, transmitting it down the generations to maintain order. The architectonic incubator, as it were, helps to instil identity and maintain homogeny.

So the logical extension of the idea of the spaces we occupy shaping the spaces within is that there is a sense of reciprocity and the spaces we occupy are also shaped by, or should be a reflection of, the spaces within. This is surely the way of any given people’s culture and its artefacts. When you watch TV or look at a painting, for instance, you expect to see faces like your own, faces you identify with. Culture is like a mirror. You expect to see a reflection of yourself in it – and this is what there is an effort to shut down, across the arts.

parthenonArchitecture reminds us of who our ancestors were, what they believed in and therefore who we are, what we are the inheritors and custodians of, what we have to live up to and continue. Through it, they challenge us to continue building a world in which we see ourselves reflected and which we want to see reflected in our children.

The DNA of culture and even race is encoded in buildings, which even pinpoint historical eras. In Britain, the distinct phases of style mean you can walk through towns and cities and read their history, their evolution. Public squares once had deep sense of meaning, circled by architecture that had stories to tell and occupied by monuments and statues that celebrated our culture’s great sons and daughters. Now, such things give way to abstract corporate art.

The rot probably began to set in after the Edwardian era. Edward VII was king for just 10 years but still had a distinct architectural style named after him. His successor, George V, did not and his reign coincides with the rise of modernism.

Pushing on, in addition to all of the above, architecture can serve more broadly as a manifestation of humanity’s deeper spiritual life and our identity as an inexorable facet of nature.

From antiquity to recent times, architects drew on Sacred Geometry, notably the Golden Ratio (which has been covered previously on this site), to design buildings that embodied the mathematical foundation of objective beauty. These structures – like the Parthenon, Notre Dame, Georgian houses – were therefore tied harmoniously into the innate aesthetic order of the natural world and served as frames for human bodies that have their own proportions determined by the Golden Ratio and in their own turn frame the human spirit. In appropriately designed buildings, there is a sense in which even in the depths of a city, we retain our link with nature and are reminded of our place in the great chain of the Golden Spiral that runs through it.

Modern architecture seeks to cut the link with our traditions and ancestors and, crucially, this link with the natural world and its transcendental laws. What is a humanity removed from culture and nature?

Do we want to occupy buildings that frame us as proud inheritors of our ancestors’ noble cultures and traditions, and more widely and abstractly as indivisible components in nature’s great and seemingly divine order? Or do we want to be identity and history-less interchangeable units of labour, ready to be shuffled across now arbitrary national borders into whatever economic zone we are required in?

notre_dame_de_parisThis is where a healthy reciprocal loop of internal and external shaping through architecture is crucial. Disrupt this loop and you take a key vantage point in a culture war. You can begin to work to make a people forget who and what they are on every level, ready to be moulded into what you want them to be. Reflect that false identity back at them long enough and it will begin to take hold.

But there may be reason for us to be hopeful. In his book Victorian Cities, Nikolaus Pevsner touched on the era’s fervour for church building. He identified it not as a sign of the strength of Christianity at the time but rather a reflection of Victorians’ concern for its future in a society increasingly dominated by consumerism and the rise of the temples of capitalism – shopping arcades, which even aped religious architecture to abrogate the power the masses were trained to recognise in it.

Can a similar reading be made of the current fervour for prevailing architectural trends, as well as tearing down existing buildings and replacing them with the kind of bland monocultural structures that Prince Charles would refer to as “hideous carbuncles”? Does it actually reflect a fear that the globalist agenda is unravelling as more and more of us reject its false narrative?

It is time to re-set the loop and return to building for eternity, in multiple senses of the word. So the next time you look up at a ceiling fresco, remember why your mouth is open.