Habitus Magazine | Issue 8

I recently came across Japanese novelist, Junichiro Tanizaki’s enchanting essay, In Praise of Shadows – a reverie on the Japanese sense of beauty. The eminent American architectural historian, Charles Moore has written a brief introduction to the book in which he says: “One of the basic human requirements is the need to dwell, and one of the central human acts is the act of inhabiting, of connecting ourselves, however temporarily with a place on the planet which belongs to us, and to which we belong.”

Moore goes on to say that we need ‘allies’ in this quest because the modern world is a constant threat to our sense of inhabitation. Our greatest ally, he says, is light and he quotes Louis Kahn as saying: “The sun never knew how wonderful it was until it fell on the wall of a building.” But Tanizaki reminds us that light is defined by its opposite – darkness – and that our appreciation of space is shaped by the way light is modulated by shadow, or the way light is obstructed, deflected and filtered by what stands between us and the sun.

Given Habitus’ agenda of context and connection, it should be no surprise that the treatment of light is a constant in the homes we visit. So, from that point of view, this issue of Habitus is no different from the first seven. But I encourage you to read this issue with a special eye – as it were. First, check out our In Camera focus on lighting for ideas on how to be creative with light in the home. But also look at how our featured architects deal with light and how they use it to create and shape space, how they use it to moderate our relationship with the world outside, and how they manipulate it to temper our sense of well-being, of feeling at home.

There is the rare and precious occasion when I can sit at home on my deck which faces due north and where I can easily sit for an entire day simply watching the changing light in the rain forest opposite. The day has a rhythm to which our bodies are naturally attuned – except that modern urban living is largely oblivious to it. In a similar way, the play of light and shadow on and inside a building creates a rhythm which both complements its formal composition and helps connect us to our internal rhythms.

In other words, there is a meditative quality to the play of light in and around a building which helps us re-discover who we are. We are used to thinking about how form creates space, but our perception of space is really shaped by light. The effects of light on our well-being are often under-estimated – just compare how you feel in a dark room compared to one filled with light. But it is never just light and dark – it is equally about the play of light and the tonal shifts which can have the same effect as music as it shapes our moods.

PAUL MCGILLICK | EDITOR