The degree to which a line resembles its path determines its achievement. The searching line repeats its loop hoping that each one will be it’s last. Unlike the house, it knows what figure to find, yet it cannot reproduce the form. In painting, the searching line traces over itself. By attempting to follow the same path each time, a new line emerges. What eventually remains in common are the differences. The house looks back at what remains and sees only a consistent scale and view. No one iteration knows itself without completing the next. First goes the treatment of ground, then, the idea of a roof. In this mix, solutions that were first thought certain are abandoned and others are retrieved from dissolution. Its sketches begin to contradict, support and deny one another without any logic to their changing morality. Without a destination as a guide, the house circles around itself. The house now decides to travel diagonally. Each one steps up a rung of a ladder that never changes. A few manage to improve upon the last but optimise without ever changing the rules. Others form a field of choices, without a hierarchy to choose from they spread only horizontally. Some simply imitate out of habit what came before, going nowhere. Without knowing which direction to go, however, the sketches multiply without arriving anywhere. Iterating gradually distances the house from its point of origin. The house finds that although not every sketch differs from the last, they always change.
Although lacking the elegance of a sixteenth-century sonnet, the monkeys had, in practice, produced something more valuable than they had in theory: a new outcome. Within five pages the monkeys had soiled their typewriters. In 2003, an experiment put the theory to the test. Although it is the least probable outcome, with enough time, it is as possible as the most likely outcome. With each hour, the image takes shape not in the space of the page but in the duration of time.ġ,000 monkeys at 1,000 typewriters are said to eventually, almost definitely, produce literature rivalling Shakespeare. It pursues a sketch that cannot yet be seen. No single drawing or combination of them contains what the house is looking for. Whereas scaled orthography values completion, the sketch knows only repetition. What kind of entry? The house discovers another question with each turn of the page. What kind of nice roof? A roof forming an entry. What kind of courtyard house? A courtyard house with a nice roof. They existed all along, waiting to be made real. Each one is a house it had already known: long houses, stepped houses, curved houses, simple houses, complex houses. Within this space, it sees nothing but possibilities. Robin Evans was right the architect is ‘never working directly with the object of their thought.’Ī house begins from a blank page. The last page grants only a glimpse into the way to go. For the first 287 pages, it did not know what it was looking for. With each repetition of the loop, the house searches for itself. 288 sketches precede the design of a house.
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