Understanding space in Robert Sommer’s “Tight spaces: Hard architecture and how to humanize it”
The short few months that I have been studying Environmental Psychology, my mindset on the built environment has been immeasurably altered. I credit this to my lecturers, who are open to questioning, my fellow students, who are so encouraging and welcoming of debate, and the literature I have been exposed to. One internationally recognised Environmental Psychologist, who’s approach to the built environment I have been studying is Robert Sommer. Sommer is currently Distinguished Professor Emeritus Department of Psychology at the University of California, Davis and has written 14 books and many articles around the field of Environmental Psychology and the Built Environment.
My copy of Sommer’s 1974 book, “Tight spaces: Hard architecture and how to humanize it” arrived smelling of old book shelves and library dust. Perhaps a sign of its long-lost relevance to its previous owner or its storage for years on the shelves of a warehouse. Despite the aging glue and page leaves falling out, the written word imprinted on the pages couldn’t be further from the year of its print. Sommer’s reflections on the environmental psychology of ‘hard’ architecture, inhuman-places and incomprehensible buildings couldn’t be more relevant today. The book resonated with me and the built environment of 2019 and I would like to share some of it with you.
Prisons –
“The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.” Fyodor Dostoevsky, The House of the Dead
For Sommer, prisons are the epitome of the hard environment. For the incarcerated criminal, not only do the boundaries of one’s space become psychologically restricted, but the harsh environment is so unlike the home one used to live in. One could say that that is the element of punishment. But should the environment combined with the length of a prison sentence jointly be designed to punish? A sentence goes from being weeks or years on a calendar to becoming ‘hard time’. The book questions whether ‘hard time’, and by influence, hard architecture instills any reform in the individual. Sommer expands on the ideology set out by many for this harsh environment: “The rational of the hard prison is that the inmate will destroy anything that is provided for him.” He goes on to question what this removal of amenity and provision of hard surfaces has to prove, when there are so many examples of prisons where rugs, tables, desks and TVs are allowed. “In prison disturbances, where inmates are rampaging against virtually every part of the prison building, television sets purchased with inmate welfare funds remain undisturbed. Nor do inmates destroy the paintings made by their fellow prisoners.” Items of value and status are left untouched, an importance placed by the inmates on relief from their surroundings. This is the beginnings of Sommer’s argument for ‘soft architecture’.
Soft architecture is characterised by responsive, welcoming buildings that reflect the activities of human beings. “Instead of hardening things to resist human imprint, let us design buildings, parks, and cities to welcome and reflect the presence of human beings — let us abandon the fruitless and costly search for ever more secure cell furnishings.” Allowing for the presence of people surely will encourage people to a place. An example of this that comes to mind is London’s Southbank. On the surface, a place that Sommer might consider ‘hard’ architecture, but somehow people have made it the bustling place that it is. Skateboarders use an under-croft as a skate-park, a book market runs throughout the year under London’s Waterloo Bridge and in the summer a water fountain is frequented by young families with children running through the lines of water to cool down. There are no signs, no restrictions, people afford these activities and hard architecture turns into something resembling Sommer’s ‘soft’.
Returning to “Tight spaces: Hard architecture and how to humanize it”. Sommer touches on the similarities between the hard nature of the prison and other spatial typologies. I would like to point out a few of the other interesting space types that are mentioned.
Zoos –
Sommer discusses the hard environment of the zoo as a place for the observation of animals by humans. He begins by stating: “There is more information about the spatial needs of animals in zoos than about human spatial needs.” He questions if the zoo is indeed for the purpose of studying animals since the animal itself does not benefit much from being confined. The zoo, as an institution, is justified on educational grounds; people learn what animals look like and their behaviour. Sommer debates this motive. Using the work of Heini Hediger, he deduces that: “Hard and constraining environments leave little room for a full range of behaviours to come into play.” It is thought provoking to consider the zoo from this perspective. From the glass screened insects to the caged in gorillas, it appears that the intentions for observation are of the captive animal and not the natural animal. So what is the purpose of the zoo? A query that Sommer answers: “…the zoo can teach us how to find the proper environment to maintain organisms in natural conditions.”
Learning Environments –
Classroom environments and student psychology is an interesting aspect of Sommer’s book. He describes studies that he carried out to understand the learning space. From quantifying participation in different classroom sizes to classroom decoration, Sommer has explored the classroom as a space for optimal learning.
One study that stands out looked at the furniture arrangement of the classroom space. This initially compared the size of the class group with the amount of student participation. The second half of the study explored if a rearrangement of the furniture of the classroom would allow for greater student participation. A researcher would go into a classroom before the students and teacher arrived, move the furniture out of its typical linear arrangement into circle, for example. The researcher then observed the effects when students and teachers entered. Sommer states: “We found that twenty of the twenty-five classes rearranged the chairs back into straight rows before the class began!” Sommer is acknowledging of the difference between field research and lab research, that one cannot predict the actions of subjects. Theses actions by students and teachers allows interesting deductions to be drawn.
From the various studies Sommer mentions in his book he concludes that: “The failure of the guerrilla arrangements [referring to the altering of classroom furniture] makes it clear that we should have worked with the students and teachers rather than against them.” Sommer points out that there is a lot of security in the teacher’s podium/desk and the students’ linear desk arrangement. Security in that there is no real demand for engagement.
“Flexible classrooms, open classrooms and laissez-fairs classrooms aren’t going to make much of a difference unless they parallel a loosening of the social order of the classroom, until they reject the model of the teacher as merely a knowledge source and the students merely as learners.”
Here, Sommer is calling for there to be a social as well as physical change in the environment. Clearly in the classroom experiments he conducted, the existing social order and expectations of the teacher and student were not met by the new arrangement. Resisting this change resulted in the furniture retuning to rows. Sommer explains that there is much that the teacher can share with their students, but there is also a great deal that students can share with other students. If participation is to be encouraged, both a reorganisation of furniture and social structure is required.
Sommer’s approach is fundamentally human-centered, an approach to the built environment that I am passionate about.
“A soft building places more responsibility on the designer to help occupants get their money’s worth — he should assist them in using it wisely and creatively, and be able to adapt to changing needs.”
As designers, planners, and custodians of the built environment, we must heed this advice. The structures we create primarily influence lives of occupants and the public; they must be put first. Some may argue, ‘how is architecture not human centered, we design and build buildings for people?’. But I implore you, if you do not appropriately explore, ask and involve the community and end-users, how do you know? I encourage anyone involved in the Built Environment to read Sommer’s book.
I am launching a young architecture, design and research studio called Instorative. We are interested in applying this methodology and data-driven approach to projects in the residential, education and care environment sectors.
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