1 Cloisters As a Place of Spiritual Awakening

Cloisters as a Place of Spiritual Awakening | by Manolis Iliakis

Workshop DAS | Dance Architecture Spatiality in Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert © Manolis Iliakis

The crossroads of daily and spiritual life in medieval monasteries of the West

The English word for enclosed garden (cloister) is derived from the Latin parent word claustrum, meaning a bolt which secured the door. The more recent latch is the contemporary version of this bolt. This seems to be symbolic of the monks' isolation from the outside world, facilitating contact with the inner consciousness. The word is also associated with the footpaths outside the monastery courtyard, which were often used by monks for a kind of walking meditation. The English words cloistered and claustral describe the monastic way of life. The metonymic name “Kloster” in German means monastery. The German word for enclosed garden is Kreuzgang (meaning crossroads).

Around the perimeter of an outdoor garden, a roofed portico (porch-like gallery) was constructed, its columns terminating in arcades. In larger monasteries, a second-level perimetric portico was built. Often, there was a well, fountain or water basin. This element was not always placed at the centre, as for example at the monastery of Ganagobie Abbey1. The resulting asymmetry, emphasized by the placement of plants and trees, brought another architectural aspect to the typically square floor plan. This typology is a characteristic of most Western medieval monasteries, as well as cathedrals. These spaces were adjacent to the main church or a chapel and are the heart of the monastery. A gateway facilitated direct access from one space to another, the sense that one has in the closed space of the church being conveyed to the cloister and vice-versa. Daily repetition of this conveyance was an important aspect of monastic life. The transition from a dimly-lit space, (usually a central or side aisle), to a courtyard and then to an open outdoor space, and the same progression in reverse, evokes the spiral development of the cosmos, the seasonal cycles and the movement of the sun. This functional aspect comprises the connecting and transitory spaces of all monastic structures.

Apart from the rituals, prayer, walking or sitting meditation and silent reading of the Scriptures, the enclosed courtyard (or yard) was the centre of social life and an integral

1 A Benedictine monastery on the banks of the Durance river in France. The first monastery was founded in the 10th century.

1 part of daily monastic life. This is where the monks sewed their clothes, repaired their shoes, cut their hair, shaved and cut their nails. For the rite of Ash Wednesday (Dies cinerum), monks left their shoes in the enclosed courtyard to go barefoot, as prescribed by Canon Law2. There was usually a sharpening stone here, where they also washed their cups and laid out their clothes in the sun to dry 3.

Regine Abegg's research4 answers many questions regarding the significance, function and use of the enclosed courtyard in monastic life. A researcher can obtain much information from the Libri Ordinarii, the liturgical books defining regulations for religious orders and performance of the Divine Liturgy, as well as other ceremonies during the year. Interesting references are found describing the ritualistic use of enclosed courtyards. The oldest surviving Libri Ordinarii date from the early 12th century. Ceremonial conventions (Consuetudines) were established for each monastery in accordance with these regulations. Customs and laws are preserved in written form in a number of medieval monasteries and describe daily schedules and regular annual rituals. We often see modifications and amendments of church laws, as well as detailed descriptions of daily life in the enclosed courtyard.

Litanies, adapted to each region, were celebrated in the enclosed courtyard. Festive litanies with the psalms and exact locations of processional stops are described with explicit instructions in the Libri Ordinarii. During these litanies, participants always passed through the enclosed courtyard. Each Sunday, the ceremony of sanctification was performed and in the enclosed courtyard, they sprinkled all doors leading to rooms around the gallery. We find references to sanctification from as early as the 8th century. If there was some celebration on Sunday, it would be coordinated with the sanctification.

The litanies and processions at cathedrals such as those in Zurich and Basel were also associated with the enclosed courtyard. In the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed for example on November 2nd, the procession passed through the enclosed courtyard, continuing, with stops at graves, to the parish, the Holy Gate and the Eastern wing of the choir, finally reaching the courtyard or cloister. The cloister also presented an alternative for litanies in a town, when conditions did not permit it.

The 35th chapter of the Rule of St. Benedict defines foot washing as part of the care of the body and is associated with specific rituals. Saturday night was defined as the day of ritual group foot washing. This ceremony had great significance during Holy Week, being associated with the cleansing of feet of the disciples of Jesus. The Cistercian Order practiced the washing of feet on Holy Thursday, which was done by the abbots of monasteries in the enclosed courtyard in two consecutive ceremonies. The first was called Mandatum pauperum, (washing of the feet of the poor) and the second, Mandatum fratrum, (washing of the feet of the monks). This is described in great detail in the Liber Ordinis of St.Victor in Paris. The kitchen manager (Refectorarius) carried a jug of hot water and another with cold water to the Western wing of the cloister. The monks sat on the low wall between the columns and lifted their tunics with care and modesty, exposing only their feet. Without lifting their feet excessively, they then stretched them and shook off the water. After waiting for their lower limbs to dry completely under their cloaks, they donned their shoes and washed their hands in the Lavatorium. They shook out their socks carefully so as not to bother their neighbours and put them on again. They were permitted to have sharpened knives only in order to trim their nails. Knives were normally stored in the dormitories after the daily meal.

2 Cod. Sal. VII,80 Ordinarium Cisterciense et Liber Usuum Cisterciensis Salem, 1603 & 1604 3 Sourced from Regine Abbeg: Udalricus, Lib.II, cap.20 (Migne, PL 149,Sp.709); Constitutiones Hirsaugienses, cap. 59 (Migne, PL 150, Sp.988); Consuetudines Marbacenses, cap. 32, § 72 (Siegwart, S. 140). 4 Regine Abegg, Funktionen des Kreuzgangs im Mittelalter: Liturgie und Alltag, περιοδικό Kunst + Architektur in der Schweiz = Art + architecture en Suisse, Νο. 48 (1997), p. 6-24

2 Descriptions of clothes washing are also interesting. When speaking was permitted during the day, monks could get hot water from the kitchen and wash their clothes in the multiple basins carved in a tree trunk. Tunic overgarments ("stamineum") were washed separately from trousers ("femoralia"). Clothes were most likely then hung out on lines, secured between columns5. Shoes were cleaned in the same area and laid out to dry on the garden grass.

Speaking was forbidden in all areas of the monastery in accordance with the strict rules of the Benedictines: in the dining room (Refectorium), kitchen, bedrooms (Dormitorium) and of course the church. A coded sign language helped when communication was needed. In keeping with these strict rules, the only place where speaking was permitted to some extent and at specific times was in the enclosed courtyard. Silence was of great importance, after the midday meal for example. Only reading, chanting or siestas were permitted. During this time, even communication with sign language or gestures was not permitted.

The importance of maintaining a sense of tranquillity is noted in detailed descriptions of daily activities, becoming a sort of "choreography". For example, when monks would write in the cloister, they had to take care not to make noise when moving the quill over the parchment. This instruction seems oppressive at first, but from another perspective, facilitates concentration, preventing distraction of the mind with unnecessary thoughts. When a monk was late in returning to the garden gallery after his siesta, he had to walk discreetly, taking care not to disturb the calm. Was this simply to avoid disturbing one's neighbour, or to reflect while walking? Perhaps both.

When speaking softly was permitted, (only in the area of the cloister), discussion topics were required to be spiritual in nature, or relate to essential practical matters. The Liber Ordinis (Liber Ordinii) of the Augustinian Order of St. Victor permits one single conversation period ("hora locutionis") per day. The monks sat in a row on one side of one of the four arcades and on the other side of the same gallery, an overseer maintained order, preventing any chatter, quarrels, slander etc. Those discussing were not to be at a distance from each other and were required to speak as softly and as little as possible, concise wording being a form of intellectual discipline. The acoustic effect of the semi-open and open space of the surrounding portico and garden was considerable. Every word was initially trapped in the gallery and then "freed". The sense of sound transmission resulting from the unique structure of the space, facilitated this "exercise" of expressing necessity and purpose. When an unnecessary thought is expressed verbally, it becomes more apparent and even distressing.

Supervising monks were present during reading of the Holy Scriptures ("Lectione Divina") in the portico surrounding the courtyard. The 48th chapter of the Rule of St. Benedict defines the daily syllabus and manner of reading. Each monk was to sit at a specific distance from his neighbour, determined by stretching the elbows. Their long robes were carefully gathered between the legs so as not to fall on the floor, with their toes remaining visible. Devotion to reading was essential and chatter prohibited. Only necessary questions were permitted. When wearing a hood, a monk was to allow his head to still be seen by the supervisor in case he fell asleep. It would likely be best to understand the role of older monks who took charge of such matters, as helpers in the spiritual quest of younger monks rather than as a disciplinarians6.

Similar traditions existed and still exist in Zen Buddhist temples. During zazen seated meditation, a supervising monk determines when an adherent loses his bearing, or is close to falling asleep and strikes him with the keisaku, a wooden stick, to restore him to the correct posture, specifically to the "centre" of his being as it is called. An outside observer would perceive such an act as punishment, but conversely, this is a redemptive measure for the meditator. A practitioner often requests this strike on his own.

5 According to Regine Abegg's research: Udalricus, Lib. II, cap. 15 (Migne, PL 149,Sp. 707-708). 6 This of course does not imply that there were no abuses of power.

3 The enclosed portico was an educational area for children ("Pueri"), given by their parents to the monastery. They sat on small wooden stools ("prope murum") separate from the other monks, in lines parallel to the outer wall. Educators sat across from them on the side of the low wall where the colonnade of the portico stood.

Built bench seats integrated into the design of the perimetric portico, facilitated all these functions. The courtyard was used as a burial ground for bishops and important clerics. Some of the surrounding buildings served as administrative areas of the diocese and even as small courthouses. There are references to the peristyle atrium (cloister/sanctuary) being used as a space for drafting notarial acts, donations and sales.

The planted area at the centre, embodied qualities found in biblical descriptions of the Garden of Eden7 and the New Jerusalem8. These decorations (mosaics, reliefs and sculptural elements) are prime examples of Western medieval art. The monks cared for the plants of the garden, making sure that they were all well pruned. They removed any dried or brown leaves so that the green would prevail. In medieval monasteries, green symbolized rebirth, spring and eternal life. William of Auvergne9 said: “green colour lies halfway between white, which dilates the eye, and black, which makes it contract.” And the twelfth-century cleric, Hugh of Fouilloy10, said: “The green turf which is in the middle of the material cloister refreshes encloistered eyes and their desire to study returns. It is truly the nature of the colour green that it nourishes the eyes and preserves their vision.”

The silent observation of the daily changes occurring in the gardens was also a kind of exercise in awareness. This observation, in combination with the scents of earth after a rain, aromatic herbs (lavender thyme etc.) and the chirping of birds, reinforced the perception of transience. The concept of meditation with the help of a garden created to be viewed11, could be compared with the rock gardens of Japanese medieval monasteries.

Simultaneous accommodation of everyday as well as spiritual needs gives a special identity to the cloister garden space and unites two dissimilar worlds. We often believe that involvement with spiritual work conflicts with simple daily activities. The cloisters offer acceptance of all daily pursuits necessary for survival of the community. The fact that in the same space, one can read a prayer or hear a chant and a moment later mend a garment, is indicative. In "true" spiritualism, one action is not considered more important than another. Both cases should be perceived as a invitation for raising awareness and recognition of our true nature. The mind has a tendency to avoid daily routines that do not please us and create idealized realities, calling them "spiritual". The typology of the enclosed courtyard area helped monks to recognize this mental process and understand that it did not represent the "true self".

7 Genesis, chapter 2 8 Revelation, chapter 20 9 William of Auvergne (1180/90-1249) was a French priest who served as Bishop of Paris from 1228 until his death in 1249. He is also known as Guillaume d'Auvergne, Guilielmus Alvernus, or William of Paris. 10 Hugh of Fouilloy was born between 1096 and 1111 in Fouilloy (near Amiens) and died ca. 1172. He was a French cleric, prior of St.-Nicholas-de-Regny (1132) and St. Laurent-au-Bois (1152). 11 Fruits and herbs were collected in the gardens, but they were not used as a place of recreation or for walks. Access was not permitted without a specific reason; there was a sense of the inviolate, as the garden was a symbol of Paradise or spiritual perfection.

Workshop DAS | Dance Architecture Spatiality in Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert © Manolis Iliakis

The typology's origin

A floorplan, unique for its time (~ 820 AD), is preserved at the Benedictine Abbey of St. Gall; no other similar plan has survived from before the 12th century. This plan leads us to understand how early the idea of a large and well organized monastery had been expressed, at least at the design level. The Benedictine Order exerted a strong cultural influence in Europe and its architecture. In this "ideal floorplan", the monks' living areas develop around the enclosed monastic courtyard. The courtyard and cloister, from which the dormitory and the sacristy were accessed, was connected to the South side of the main church. At the Western and Southern extremities, we can discern stables, guestrooms, workshops, and even a school. Many older building traditions are retained in this plan, particularly those concerning organization of community life. We do not know if a monastery was ever built from a corresponding plan, but it definitely influenced later monasteries of the Romanesque and Gothic periods. According to Robert Furneaux-Jordan, this is a carefully thought out plan of a spiritual, cultural and commercial centre. The inner monastic courtyard "counter balanced" meditation and activities.12.

According to Werner Jacobsen13, after the collapse of the Roman Empire, many buildings of that period were emptied by the conquerors and changed use. These included thermae, churches, large farmhouses and Roman villas. Some of them were transformed into monasteries. The form of the cloister garden surrounded by a portico (loggia) in Roman villas, seems to have served the purpose of monasteries, but was not an essential element of their operation. This courtyard becomes an essential aspect (with specific requirements) in newly built monasteries of the 11th century. The Roman atrium with perimetric portico, according to Jacobsen, does not seem to be a model for early medieval monasteries of the 6th century, but an organic and historical evolution of Roman typologies.

12 R. Furneaux-Jordan, A concise history of western architecture, Thames & Hudson Ltd, 1969, p. 144 13 Werner Jacobsen, Die Anfänge des abenländischen Kreuzgangs, in the book: Der mittelalterliche Kreuzgang (the medieval Cloister), ed. Peter K. Klein, Schnell+Steiner, 2004, p. 37-56

5 Rolf Legler14 says that we cannot regard ancient typologies, such as the Hellenistic Palestra or Leonidaion of Olympia (3rd century BC), as a model for medieval cloisters. While definitely sharing similar morphology, it lacks any historical continuity. The Dictionary of Viollet-le-Duc describes the entry "cloître" (enclosed garden) as a purely medieval architectural expression, completely independent of the architecture of antiquity15.

The monastic form with scattered buildings and perimeter wall (courtyard), is found in all parts of the world prior to the reform of Benedict of Aniane in 817 AD. The Christian monastic tradition has its origins in Egypt. The anchorites and hermits were major formations that later influenced Europe. We find the scattered huts of monks at Deir el Naqlun, Southeast of Fayum at Antinopolis. Each monk lived separately there with the Hall of "Agape" being a common meeting place. This hall was later replaced with the church.

In the 4th century, the Egyptian model of monastic life was brought to Asia Minor and the Black Sea. The Lawra system as it was called, remained the standard. This also occurred in Gaul and the Iberian Peninsula. It is interesting that we find similar typologies even in remote Buddhist monasteries such as Wat Umong in Northern Thailand. We do not know if there was contact between the two cultures during that period.

According to Legler, the determining factor transforming monastic architectural style was the reform of Benedict of Aniane. Efforts to redefine monastic life led to the typology of the cloister garden and the "ordered" closed structure of medieval monasteries after the 8th century, with all buildings adjacent to each other and forming a single complex.

The monastery as a prison

Over the centuries, many medieval monasteries were abandoned and turned into prisons. The cloistered garden reminded them of the Panopticon, a type of prison designed by Jeremy Bentham in 1785. This could be linked symbolically with a negative interpretation of spirituality often found in Christian tradition.

Within the Panopticon, the sense of surveillance was invariable, whether continuously implemented or not. Michel Foucault writes, "... the perfection of power should tend to render its actual exercise unnecessary". "... this architectural apparatus should be a machine for creating and sustaining a power relation independent of the person who exercises it; in short, that the inmates should be caught up in a power situation of which they are themselves the bearers."16 If we envision a frightened monk under the vigilant eye of God and the surveillance of the abbot or senior monks, then something is not right with the path to spiritual awakening.

14 Rolf Legler, Zur Einfürung: Der mittelalterliche Kreuzgang, Architektur – Funktion – Programm, in the book: Der mittelalterliche Kreuzgang (the medieval Cloister), ed. Peter K. Klein, Schnell+Steiner, 2004, p. 9-29 15 Viollet-le-Duc, Dictionnaire raisonné de l’ architecture francaise du XIe au XVIe siècle, III, Paris 1854/68, 410-461. 16 Michel Foucault, Discipline & Punish: The Birth of the Prison, Rappa publications, 1989, page 265

6 http://fabianfoo.com

Empty gardens abounding in fullness

The famous Ryōan-ji rock garden at the monastery of Shokokuji in Kyoto shows a similar treatment of space to the gardens of medieval monasteries in the West17. There is an enclosing boundary and the idea of "sanctity" is equally present, in this case, much more stringently enforced because the slightest footprint would be immediately visible in the "combed" gravel.

The 15 stones are never visible at the same time. The visitor's field of vision and their method of placement allows viewing of only 14 stones from any possible angle. One is always missing. In Buddhism, the number 15 symbolizes fullness or wholeness. This partial view of the stones signifies that the limited perceptive ability of our minds does not allow us to have complete knowledge of what we see. The concealment of one stone at any given time expresses a sense of unseen unity, surpassing the complexity of the phenomena.

According to tradition, the garden's design dates from 1513 and is attributed to the artist Soami (1480?-1525). The texts preserved in the monastery's archives give conflicting information. Most probably, the actual designers were anonymous builders called Sensui kawaramono (gardeners working on the riverbank), assisted by Zen monks18. The garden is surrounded on three of its sides by a wall separating it from the surrounding environment and on the fourth side, by the temple. The purpose and symbolism of this design has been a subject of discussion for centuries. It perhaps represents islands in an ocean (a common theme of Chinese gardens), or a tiger with her cubs19.

17 The first Japanese monastery gardens of the 7th century are divided into two categories: walking gardens and gardens for viewing. In both cases, exterior design forms an integral part of the whole space and in conjunction with the interior space, contributes to peace and harmony. The Garden of the Zen Buddhist temple Ryōan-ji belongs to this second category and is one of the finest surviving examples of kare-sansui, or rock garden ("dry landscape"). 18 Nitschke, Günter, The Architecture of the Japanese Garden, Benedikt Taschen Verlag GmbH, Germany, 1993, p. 89-90. 19 It is often described as a tiger with her cubs crossing the sea.

7 Dōgen, the founder of Soto Zen in Japan, writes in his essay, Genjōkōan20: When dharma does not fill your whole body and mind, you may assume it is already sufficient. When dharma fills your body and mind, you understand that something is missing. For example, when you sail out in a boat to the middle of an ocean where no land is in sight, and view the four directions, the ocean looks circular, and does not look any other way. But the ocean is neither round nor square; its features are infinite in variety. It is like a palace. It is like a jewel. It only looks circular as far as you can see at that time. All things are like this. Though there are many features in the dusty world and the world beyond conditions, you see and understand only what your eye of practice can reach. In order to learn the nature of the myriad things, you must know that although they may look round or square, the other features of oceans and mountains are infinite in variety; whole worlds are there. It is so not only around you, but also directly beneath your feet, or in a drop of water.

If we try to interpret the garden through its form, we can liken it to the ocean or a tiger, but then, as Dōgen writes, we have not understood the "unity-wholeness" of existence, and hence the true purpose of this composition. Correspondingly, in medieval enclosed gardens of the West, sculptural elements of perimetric porticos, as well as the placement of particular plants, serve as symbols for awakening and recognition of the "God within us".

A notable diagram by Will Petersen, geometrically illustrates the spatial placement of stones. For Petersen, the stone garden is like a fascinating puzzle, a visual kōan21. The kōan confronts the practitioner with a contradiction that cannot be solved by logic. There is no "logical answer". This diverts the rational thought process and another kind of understanding emerges. This is a moment of lucidity, holding the student's essence of existence or "true self". Thus, observation of this rock garden from the specially formed wooden platform becomes an object of contemplation. Flowers and plants are absent here in order to study the transitory or cyclic nature of life and time. What then is the object being observed? It is observation of the mind and constantly changing thoughts while looking at the garden. Thus, the changes are not occurring in the garden itself, but in our perception of the garden. A well-known kōan expresses this question: "What is the sound of one hand clapping?" 22 If the student rejects the question and answers that there is no sound, then he is closer to the answer. A sound is only produced within the complex thoughts of the mind, even though one hand cannot clap.

By silently observing a Zen garden, such as that at the temple of Ryōan-ji, time and time again, one perceives that mind and consciousness are two different things. One senses that the mind identifies with the personality of the self and consciousness, with its true essence. This is how the objective of a kōan or a rock garden is attained. Within these gardens, monks practiced kinhin, (walking meditation), or zazen, (seated meditation), motionlessly contemplating the "emptiness" of the garden.

A correlation

If we try to understand the deeper meaning of medieval cloistered gardens and their counterparts in Japan, we would say that in both cases and by similar means, architecture serves the monks' efforts toward spiritual awakening or "perfection". It contributes to the path to awareness and unconditional consciousness, that which is called the internal Christ or Buddha-nature. Representation of the "world" and "wholeness" in miniature seems to be a common intent in both cultures. The rites of cyclic growth of Benedictine and similar orders (in the perimetric portico of the inner courtyard), are similar in purpose to the cyclic kinhin walking meditation in Zen Buddhist monasteries.

20 Dōgen, Actualizing the Fundamental Point, (According to the translation by Robert Aitken and Kazuaki Tanahashi). 21 Will Petersen, Stone Garden, Evergreen Review Vol. 4, 1957. 22 A student in the Rinzai Zen tradition meditates on each kōan, until the teacher decides that the student has acquired an intuitive understanding of the deeper meaning of the question.

Plan of Ryoan-ji. Loraine Kuck, The World of the Japanese Garden, 1980.

9 Section through La Tourette, Le Corbusier

Disappearance of the courtyard

At the monastery of Sainte Marie de La Tourette, designed by Le Corbusier, one finds a void in place of the expected enclosed courtyard. Two interior passageways intersect on the natural ground surface. Nature invades the interior space, becoming a component of the composition.

The visitor is given the impression of a walk, a tour beginning with the landscape and continuing to interior corridors where the external view is gradually replaced by the "inner void" of the courtyard and the basic geometric solids placed in various parts of the building. The tour ends at the closed space of the church in which exclusively natural light dominates and any exterior view is absent. The complexity of the surrounding natural landscape is transformed into a "void" of simple geometric shapes and finally into light. It is perhaps a simplification of the world to make it more easily understandable; a subtractive reduction of its energy and components. According to Le Corbusier, the composition is not intended to serve "communication" between man and a divine higher power. Its objective lies in the monk's own introspection. The removal of complex, real-world stimuli, helps him to perceive the essence and components of his existence, to feel that he is an integral part of a "whole".

John Peponis elucidates regarding the monastery of La Tourette: "Whereas the prisoners in Plato's cave allegory can only see the shadows of things and never the things themselves or the light source, in this cave of Le Corbusier's, the visitor encounters pure light and pure colour after the gradual removal of physical juxtapositional layers, surface and geometry ... Plato seeks conceptual removal with sensory perception, while the architect wants sensory morphology to function as a means of conceptual removal23".

23 John Peponis, Choreographies/architectural formation of meaning, (in Greek), Alexandria publications, 1997

A contemporary London cloister

During the summer of 2011, preparations for the Olympic Games in London entered their final stages as the city was transformed into a vast construction site full of noise, dust and activity. Kensington Gardens and most parks, were like shelters where one could escape the frantic pace of a changing city.

Peter Zumthor designed and implemented a temporary pavilion construction within this setting at Kensington Gardens' Serpentine Gallery in Hyde Park. With international stars of the architectural scene being invited to design massive structures for the London Olympics, the quiet and modest architect Peter Zumthor envisioned an enclosed garden within a large garden park.

Peter Zumthor's work bears no relationship to the sort of architectural productivity that promotes international competition between cities dreaming of Guggenheim Museums and in the end creating crisis situations; not only economic, but cultural and ecological crises as well. He has preferred to live in seclusion during the last thirty years in a remote village of the Swiss Alps. The seventy-year-old architect prefers an "ascetic" lifestyle due to the way of life he has chosen. Through "non-action", he engages in indirect criticism of developments within the global community. He lives simply, surrounded by nature, with no more than twenty employees at his office. Despite this, in 2008, while still unknown to the general public, he won one of the most prestigious international architectural awards, the Pritzker Prize. His project list is limited when compared with those of other colleagues honoured with the same award.

One of his best-known works is the thermal bath complex in the Swiss commune of Vals24. Built entirely in reinforced concrete and stone from the region, the building's volume integrates boldly into the mountainside. The design concept was based on the management of elements that make up the landscape: the mountain, stone, light and water. In the

24 The commune of Vals is located between Zurich and Locarno. There have been thermal bath facilities in the area for over a century due to the unique character of the water, flowing from its source at a constant temperature of 29°C.

11 closed, open and semi-open spaces he designed, all the senses are stimulated; the visitor experiences the exceptional uniqueness of the site as a whole. The distinctive character of the site, the texture of materials, temperature fluctuations, acoustic reverberation, smells and humidity all contribute to this fusion of the Vals region's characteristics.

Hortus conclusus: a secret garden

As of 2000, the Serpentine gallery25 has accommodated a series of temporary pavilion structures on its surrounding grounds. Architects or architectural teams that have not completed a project in England are invited to design, within a six-month period, a temporary structure on the grounds surrounding the gallery. Each pavilion remains in place and open to the public for three months, after which these are put up for sale26 to individuals or companies when the exhibition ends.

The name given to the pavilion in 2011 was "Hortus conclusus", meaning secret enclosed garden. The Latin name Hortus conclusus traces its origins to the Middle Ages and described the idealized image of a Western medieval garden. It was enclosed and symbolized the shelter of Paradise. We see many depictions of such spaces in medieval art. Characteristic works are those by Stephan Lochner (1400-1451) 27 Fra Angelico (1395-1455), Gerard David, (1460-1523), Bartolomé Bermejo (1440-1501) and others. Also of interest are descriptions in literature of such "ideal gardens", which have been used as symbols of the virtues of Mary and the mother of St. Anne. In Solomon's "Song of Songs", we find a description of a "locked" (enclosed) garden28, which likely inspired Western painters and Byzantine iconographers on the theme of the Annunciation. We see evidence of the significant involvement of monks in many Central European medieval monasteries, creating and preserving such gardens. Byzantine enclosed gardens with Islamic influences are found in atriums or surrounded by high walls and often decorated with murals. These usually surround lower enclosing walls with plants or parapets and railings.

Descriptions of these idealized gardens included fruit trees and evergreens. Continuous flowering and fruit-bearing prevailed, as in Paradise. Descriptions speak of tall cypress trees growing around the garden's edge, offering protection from the wind. Apple, pear, almond, walnut or plum trees were planted in a secondary ring within. Roses, lilies, hyacinths, lotuses, orchids, violets and daisies were planted at the centre of the garden.

The architect envisioned a closed garden, influenced by the typologies of enclosed gardens: those of the Middle Ages in the West and in Japan and the Islamic gardens of Southern Spain. According to Zumthor, a garden is the most familiar form of "natural" landscape. There, we can cultivate the plants we need. A garden needs care and protection. We therefore construct a protecting wall around it. Due to this need, the garden becomes space.

The orthonormally walled Alpine farm garden bearing vegetables is one of the architect's favourite images. One finds small gardens in the vast arable mountain lands, protected from animals, where farmers' wives often plant multicoloured flowers, breaking the chromatic monotony of the fields, a small landscape within a larger one. This image inspired Zumthor's love of enclosed gardens and his pavilion concept, implemented on the Serpentine Gallery's grounds, expresses this: implementation of an idealized image in line with the typology of "Hortus conclusus", a recomposition of interior gardens (from antiquity to the present) with arcades and colonnades that he remembers seeing, or believes that he has seen, as he tells us.

25 The "Serpentine gallery" was established in 1971 and is located within the Kensington Gardens of Hyde Park, one of London's largest parks. Art exhibitions, lectures and educational programs are held in a "tea pavilion" built in 1934 and visited by approximately 750,000 people each year. 26 The exception is the pavilion designed by Rem Koolhass, who refused to put it up for sale. 27 Madonna im Rosenhag: the Madonna in the Rose Garden. 28 A garden locked is my sister bride, a garden locked, a fountain sealed. Song of Songs 4,11.

12 The pavilion was an orthogonal garden enclosed by a double panel. The traditional medieval garden wall was replaced with a canvas-covered wooden frame, painted with a mixture of black paint and sand. Along the two long sides of the rectangle were six symmetrically placed entrance portals. One would enter through these portals into a narrow, dark corridor (approximately 1.20 m wide). The inner perimetric panel had four openings placed at different coordinates relative to the outer portals, rendering the housed walkway as dark as possible. One would pass from light to darkness and then again into the light: the atrium containing the garden. This progression was reminiscent of ancient Greek and Roman atria, as well as the enclosed medieval gardens (cloisters) of monasteries. The silent, peaceful atmosphere and fragrance of the "secret garden" starkly contrasted the discord and miasma of the city of London. This contrast, combined with the smooth transition from the fabric of the city into the open park and then into the "inner" garden, gave particular value to Zumthor's offering. The space worked as a setting for contemplation, or as a quiet meeting place. One would not hear much noise in the garden; most visitors spoke softly, influenced by the energy of the plants.

The centre of the composition was a wild garden, not man or another structure. This symbolic gesture shows visitors the beneficial effect of soil and plants on the human body. It moves man to the garden's perimeter, letting nature develop at its centre. Especially today, when anthropogenic landscapes have nearly eliminated the unspoiled natural environment, this comment by Zumthor, in the middle of a metropolis, becomes an almost revolutionary act. The pavilion is not a frame for the garden but a platform for its observation: an architectural site that stimulates all the senses, especially smell and hearing29. The architect likely intended this exploration of the body's "forgotten" nature through the garden's "wild nature", a place for emotions and contemplative observation of plants, insects, sky and air.

29 Our senses of smell and hearing have unfortunately become of secondary importance, especially in cities. This is due to high levels of noise and atmospheric pollution.

13 Garden Design as an architectural tool

The plant arrangements were done by the Dutch garden designer, Piet Oudolf. The architect allowed him complete freedom to decide which types of plants and cultivation methods were to be used. As weeds and wildflowers grow freely in a landscape, so Zumthor wanted not to know Oudolf's intention in advance. He wanted this type of parallel design, like layers of rice paper, one over another, each carrying different information, to be a characteristic tool of composition. As he says, he may not know much about plants and their names, but can sense their precious value. He enjoys their silence, resistance over time, movement in the wind, structure and range, as well as how they adapt to sun, rain, tropical heat or intense cold. Plants form the largest part of Earth's history. They come from the distant past and their beauty is unquestionable. The architect looking at his garden observes that in plants, there is dignity, playfulness and infinite tenderness. Small dots of colour reinforce a rich whole. The architect is equally impressed by the variety of gardens that exist: vegetable gardens, gardens with herbs, flowers, rose gardens, etc.

It is remarkable that the greater part of the Earth's (land) surface is covered with plants. Equally remarkable is how they grow on their own under extreme climatic conditions. Garden designer Piet Oudolf is the father of the "New Perennial" movement30 He has won awards for the way that he promotes the natural architecture of plants. He lets different varieties of grass and herbs grow freely and develop together in concert with an entire range of garden plants. This selection is always made observing criteria of their natural form, structure, texture, colour and aroma. They are planted in such a way as to make their entire life cycle an interesting and aesthetic garden component. The rationale for seasonal planting is not present. In this pavilion, the garden designer followed the same methodology: his intention, as he says, was to bring a sense of the natural element back into the urban environment.

German author and director Alexander Kluge says very aptly that everyone has a secret garden within. This is equally true whether the feeling is serious or playful. Freud, when trying to analyze childhood, said that seriousness and play do not constitute a conflict. Zumthor strives to bring forth this hidden garden of human personality.

During a period when the few open spaces in London we being built to serve the Olympic Games, Zumthor proposed unbuilt spaces: land that could become a garden rather than another building. This happened to coincide with the aspiration of our times for an "honestly" sustainable design: a process in which there is optimal management of natural and material resources, while keeping construction activity to a minimum.

* Translated from Greek by Vion Sandor and Frederique Marcou

30 New Perennial planting movement.