GAP

A gap is where something is missing. It prompts a thought. If a part is absent, it could be described as a void that needs to be filled. But when thinking of a cosmic void, which is so imperative to the universe, a gap symbolises presence and absence, both physically and as an abstraction.

The word ‘gap’ is construed in an architectural context both identically and contrarily to its general definition. In architecture, ‘gap’ is a methodical examination of the difference between the current state of the system or process and its desired state. The desired state, which reveals realms and potentials, while embracing its current situation, makes me think of the purposeful gap in the

Architectural Library. When Charles Jencks was rebuilding the house, between 1978 and 1983, a branch from the large locust tree in a neighbour’s garden overhung the boundary and came very close to the house. Maggie insisted that Charles did not cut down the branch, or build around it, but that he incorporate it in the architecture. And so the roof was indented to keep this branch - hence the strange curve in the library ceiling, just above the Egyptian bookhouse. Sitting underneath it feels like taking sanctuary, a prodigious petal stretching out invitation. This shelter represents proficiency, memory and a strong bond between two individuals who had dreamt about a purposeful and symbolic home.

I imagine fraternising with a vigorous, vivacious tree. It is the essence of an idyll, the mysterious home of fantasy. This sentimental image is a remisincent of folk tales I’ve heard many times as a child. The Hungarian folk tale The Sky-High Tree compacts a rich symbolic system into a short story about the rejuvenating powers of a tree that bestows victory, magic, life and death. This cosmic tree tightens the spheres of the upper realms, revealing the joy and vividness of life and the underworld that symbolises death.

It is coextensive with the architectural definition of the term gap, where the ‘gap’ stands between the current state of the system and its desired state. The tree of the folk tale reveals three layers of The Cosmic House’s missing tree. It is a com-municational channel between three worlds: the past, the present and that which is beyond comprehension. As time flew by, Maggie passed away. Soon after, the tree in the neighbour’s garden fell, leaving the curve in the roof, which Charles had said was designed to suggest the swell of a canvas tent. The locust tree is gone, but the gap survives, preserving the memory of Maggie’s insistence. The Cosmic House absorbs it into its form - another parallel time frame, another symbol of presence, absence and complexity.