Saturday, 11 July 2026

THE PARADOX OF COUNTRY


The word country is used frequently and casually without complications, but do we know what ‘Country’ means? We have tried to probe this complexity previously -  see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2024/06/country-outside-inside-place.html - but the phenomenon still remains an enigma to our everyday perceptions; an alien circumstance, a vague notion that we are told is not only meaningful, but also critically vital to the everyday wellbeing of the First Nations people. The concept is wielded around to justify and support almost all the claims made by this portion of the Australian population as it fights for its rights. Sadly, the situation is not helped by publications like The First Inventors, (Allen & Unwin, 2026), Billy Griffiths, Larissa Behrendt and Sean Ulm, that use 'Country' with a capital 'C' whenever it turns up in the text. Whether this word is referring merely to country as landscape, location, or real estate, or to some mystic, spiritual understanding of story, song, or dance, it is always printed with the capital.*



The proposition is that this general, 'grab all' reference to/recognition of the land in all of the various aspects that this term relates to in different contexts, only confuses the ordinary understanding of this complex experience.




One could argue that everything is referred to with the big ‘C’ because everything in this relationship with land and place is integrated into a rich and complex wholeness, a position confirmed in the previous analysis. The concern is that the failure to differentiate ‘c’ and ‘C’ only promotes a confusion in the thinking about these matters, dragging things spiritual down into the dregs of the ordinary, rather than vice versa, allowing them to be mocked and dismissed.




The proposition is that this belittling only demeans ‘Country,’ with what appears as a grand claim for perceived ordinariness that stimulates the perception that the 'knowledge' being claimed is merely a cultural hoax, a fabricated phantom, a position that is only encouraged by the social problems in some First Nation communities.




So it seems that, ironic though it might appear, the special circumstances of ‘Country’ would be better respected and reinforced by fragmenting the wholeness of the experience so that the Western mind might be able to identify the difference between say, harvesting food from, walking on, or burning 'country,' as in countryside or land, and acknowledging the spiritual ancestors, (the 'Old People' referred to in The First Inventors), or stories of place in ‘Country,’ even though the act of harvesting and burning land might involve the care of recognition of spirits as well as being a practical everyday occasion. As is noted in this publication, burning is not a clearing act alone. p.73: Fuel reduction was not an end in itself, but a colonial paradigm in which fire is seen as fundamentally bad.




By identifying this duality, the outsider might be better able to come to know how the two aspects might co-exist in the one; such is the nature of the rational, analytical mind that holds by definition and necessity, a natural dualism in the differentiation of black and white in order to gauge some sense of 'between.' That everything becomes ‘Country’ is seen by this diagnostic thinking as one pretentious, fanciful, amorphous muddle that is simply claiming too much to be taken seriously.




So the suggestion is that ‘c’ and ‘C’ be used in their proper places, with the argument of wholeness being left as another step in the understanding of ‘Country,' that embodiment of meaning in the everyday that encompasses the richness of a living and lived symbolism, forming and framing a context for this referencing rather than leaving it as an amorphous, apparently meaningful mystery in everything as a matter of course, because that's how 'we,' as First Nations people who know, see things. The West defines the sacred and the profane as a stark difference. Asking this perception to be changed establishes a difficult challenge that frustrates and alienates; confusing matters with a doubting puzzlement.



By fragmenting the aboriginal experience, the Western mind might come to appreciate this oneness rather than being forced into the position from the other direction that demands prior knowledge or blind acceptance.



There is something irrational in wanting to emphasise the fragmentation of wholeness, its integrity, when one is seeking to understand the vital complexity of the oneness of the experience being identified, but sometimes we need to pull things apart in order to better understand the relationships between the bits and pieces involved; such is the scientific method. We have Karl Popper's  conjectures and refutation; right and wrong; black and white, being used to understand all and everything (c.f. Guidjieff).



Calling everything ‘Country’ is correct and proper, but reads as promoting a bold, somewhat cocky position that stimulates a negative perception of pomposity by being read cynically as claiming just too much, too easily, too casually, perhaps for social, financial, and political gain rather than for any clarification or identification of experience.



There is the complication that this wholeness is essentially something that cannot be told. Tradition notes that if it could be told, it would have been. The best we can do in the effort to comprehend this mystery is to talk about it; point to it, as in the Zen notion of the finger pointing to the moon. This involves attempting to communicate with another. What we have to understand is that we need to think about the method, and use language and analysis that can be meaningful. Writing ‘Country’ for every context is like using a foreign language to explain a phenomenon. One needs to understand the other's perception of things if there is any chance that a position might be comprehended, let alone respected. Tolerance needs to be shown by everyone. Bland, undifferentiated claims for ‘Country’ do not help.



The argument is that there needs to be a clear difference between what the Western mind would call ‘country,’ and the reference to the mystical life of the aboriginal that relates to ‘Country.’#




Yes, we know it is all one, but we are not going to convince the questioning rationalist with the subtle vision without spelling things out as clearly and diagrammatically as might be possible while being careful not to destroy the wholeness of the spirit experience of ‘country’ named ‘Country.’




*
There is one quote in this book that refers to ‘country’ with a small ‘c’ when it does not start a sentence, suggesting that it is not using the special capital ‘C’ reference - see p.153:

Country is loved, needed, and cared for, and country loves, needs, and cares for her peoples in turn.


#

One is tempted to add: as with songlines. This concept lingers with an uncertainty, even in The First Inventors where the suggestion is that these are merely lines in songs that tell the stories about ‘Country’ - what we might call lyrics. The reference to ‘Country’ in this explanation only complicates any clarity with further murky unknowns. Yet there is the sense that much more is involved. We need an approach to this matter that adopts much the same strategy as that suggested for ‘Country.’ It is not useful to leave these things in a vague, feel-good, 'meaningful' muddle.

NOTE

In The First Inventors, p.181, the text on the black bean tree refers to songlines as though they are merely lines of a song that records a story:

It appears that people not only transformed these mountainous rainforest environments through deliberate planting strategies in the deep past, but they preserved a record of this practice in their ceremonial song archive and memory.

CAN ARCHITECTURAL FIRMS DO MORE THAN PROMOTE THEMSELVES?


https://www.archpaper.com/2026/06/large-architecture-firms-promote-themselves/

This article by Sean Joyner outlines how architectural firms today have large PR sections that promote them office, and suggests that they might better use these advertising sections to explain the impact of architecture on the community in the hope that a better and more informed public will mean improved architectural and planning outcomes for all. Might this be possible?





One knows about the promotional material produced by architectural firms as one is in presented with examples of this blurb every day, with projects published along with the note: photographs and text provided by the architect. The texts usually appear to struggle to include every exotic word and concept possible - in order to sound learned? - see, e.g.: https://architectureau.com/articles/the-forest-by-woods-bagot/; the New Farm project: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2026/05/greenlit-new-farm-rainforest.html; and Heatherwick: https://www.dezeen.com/2026/06/19/alula-manara-space-observatory-heatherwick-studio-saudi-arabia/ - with what looks like an attempt to prove the quality of the work, and justify its appearance/resolution, suggesting that there is a rich depth of thought and feeling that lies behind its making. This approach has been critiqued, but it continues.





Sean Joyner’s argument is persuasive and interesting. He notes that while the PR sections of architectural firms will never be critical, because the idea is always to create a particular office image and reputation in order to get jobs, there could be a role for these promotional teams to adopt a different approach that might highlight the impact of architecture on everyday life, and, in this way, educate both those who employ architects, and the general public, in the hope of providing a better appreciation of the profession and its ‘real-life,’ everyday benefits that go unnoticed.





One recalls that some years ago, there was a fad that encouraged what was then called Post Occupancy Evaluations, or POEs. These were formal reviews of projects undertaken a year or so after completion in order to report on what has worked and what hasn’t, involving general inspections and discussions with the stakeholders, with the idea being that issues, problems, and failures could all be recorded and acted upon. It could be said to work on the basis of learning from one’s mistakes and successes. It was a feedback idea that sought to improve real outcomes in the future. Alas, as with all of these fads – remember the hoo-ha about QA, Quality Assurance, with the regular, documented workplace meetings, formal, third party file inspections, and frequent reports?# - POEs fell out of fashion, with this expertise morphing into the distraction of some newer computing or practice/management matter; but what Joyner seems to be suggesting is just what POEs sought to achieve, without the bad bits being publicised.





Could firms actually produce such studies for the public to read, understand, and be ‘educated’? Considering the current output, one could easily see such a transformation taking place, but alas, one fears that this might only be a reorientation of the current thrust of the hyped texts. Might any firm fund something less than or different to the current promotional material, no matter the subject or the format, and the public benefit? It might sound well-meaning and idealistic, but promotion material always seeks the same outcome irrespective of the means. A truly independent third party needs to be involved here if this outcome is to bear fruit.



What remains important is critical review. We cannot really trust firms to articulate what is effectively a POE that might not reveal its ‘genius.’ Such an approach will very likely only be more of the same of what we are getting today – look how clever we are/have been! What is necessary is critical review. As with POEs, such reviews always need to be carried out by others. In the world of commerce, self-regulation has nearly always shown to be a weakness, or to have a lack tenacity and candour. We need reviews of projects that can highlight the impacts of architecture in a way that can reveal both the good and the bad qualities; the successes and the failures, if we are to maintain a rigour in thinking about future possibilities.




Without this, we are indulging in a world of ‘positive thinking’ that has only been shown to engage in the promotion of fake matters for the feel-good outcomes desired, using spin to muddle realities into phantoms of perception that only fabricate false hope. Criticism needs to be clear, unedited, and honest if it is to be useful. One cannot really expect anything but positive glories from any architectural firm. The problem is that even publishers today fear tough criticism for its impacts on distribution and sales, as commerce shapes its own preferences and ambitions to suit itself.




Without good criticism, we are lost in a void of hopeful, misguided fancy, spun into what we are led to believe are reasoned and reasonable presentations. Accepting the latter outcome causes us unknown and undocumented complexities that cloud understanding with misguided, mangled muddles and messes that manufacture only maladies.




#

. . . and the time and money spent on the Y2K fad that predicted 'the end of the world'?

AI Overview

Y2K originally referred to the "Year 2000" computer bug, a widespread technical flaw where older systems abbreviated four-digit years to two digits, risking critical data corruption. Today, the term is also widely used to describe the nostalgic fashion, design, and cultural aesthetics of the late 1990s and early 2000s.


Friday, 10 July 2026

ON INTENTIONS


What does it mean for work to have been inspired by a particular source? Is this referring only to the 'visual impact'? Our world has become so fundamentally visual with digital photography being so accessible, and so readily photoshopped, propagated and promoted, that we seem to forget about considering its impact on us. What are we neglecting? The question about influence remains to be pondered; is it more that looking alike? Should it be?


Michael Reynolds.



We have had earthships enthusiastically promoted worldwide by Michael Reynolds – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2012/03/earthships-and-bananas.html - with interest being stimulated sufficiently to have others take up the concept and build their own earthships, but none, or should one say very few, of these homes have the intelligent, inventive, inspirational charm and integrity of the originals, even though they conform with everything an earthship might claim to be. In spite of this, it is an obvious statement to say that these places built by others were ‘inspired’ by these originals, despite their lacking something when compared to them. What is being referred to? Is it that the process is the same; or the concept; the approach; the ambition; maybe the intention; or the visuals, even if in part?


Earthship.



In this anniversary year of Antonio Gaudi - the Gaudi Year commemorates the 100th anniversary of Antoni Gaudí's passing (June 10, 1926) – we are seeing a revival of interest in Gaudi’s role in history, a matter that is being concentrated in our minds by the completion of the towers of Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. It has to be emphasised that the building is NOT being completed this year, in spite of the suggestions in the media. The question lingers: is Gaudi merely a lone, weird, anomaly in the architectural world, or has he been a significant influence? In parallel with this publicity, there is a revived discussion on parametricism – see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2026/05/parametric-parameters.html. Inevitably the two come together, with Gaudi’s work being claimed as the beginning of this new, twenty-first century style – see: https://www.dezeen.com/2026/06/17/gaudi-centenary-impact/. The idea is that Gaudi has been a significant inspiration in modern architecture; not merely a personal quirk of history, but a whimsical poet in form who has encouraged others to do likewise.


Gaudi.

Saarinen.


Gehry.


Hadid.


Calatrava.


Senosiain.


EMBT.


Along with this proposition, we get, as if by way of proof, the idea of the development of this notion of influence or inspiration that is said to continue on as an historical thread through the work of Saarinen, Gehry, Hadid, Calatrava, Javier Senosiain, and EMBT Architects. Benedetta Tagliabue, the principal of the latter firm explains that:

she particularly admires Gaudí's experimentation, use of physical models, collaboration with artisans and obsessive pursuit of making designs a reality, while also sharing with him a "common aim" in seeking to evoke nature with curving architectural forms.

"These are very beautiful ideas that I will try to maintain in our studio," she said. "So yes, we are influenced by Gaudí, because we have the same desires. But we try with all our best not to copy Gaudí, because copying Gaudí is really something very difficult and extremely dangerous."




What is this influence, this inspiration? Is it a matter of visuals alone, with curves ‘evoking nature,’ while trying not to copy Gaudi’s forms, but to get close to the same appearance in some manner of self-conscious shaping? One suspects that this following, this influence, is expected to be more than merely replication, or should be, but how might one have the 'same desires' that drove the initial shaping and making? Some issues are identified by Tagliabue: experimentation; use of models; obsessive pursuit of making designs; seeking to evoke nature, as if it is seen to be necessary to schedule the characteristics of the circumstance; or is this merely a matter of perhaps labelling the necessary steps to achieve or structure this 'desire' - as if there might be a book of rules, or a demand to justify the strategy that gives a similar appearance.


Gaudi.

The matter is complex because the enthusiasm for another’s work frequently means attempts to capture the same sensed wholeness, the experienced wonderment that ends up merely as bland similitude alone - it looks like a . . . – a replication that is justified by the itemised, apparently identical 'desires' - well, some similar traits, in order, so it appears, to overcome the claim of plagiarism or being a copy cat. Corbusier’s chapel at Ronchamp has become one such revered icon, inspiring many who churn out attempts at ‘not copied’ lookalikes that demean and mock the original, and themselves, be this as a chapel, a home, a truck stop (see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2015/06/ronchamp-rest-areas-and-meaning.html), or a pump house. Even with the very best intentions and respect, the end result becomes an insult that demeans the original with the cartoon reference.


Notre-Dame du Haut, Ronchamp.



A scheduling of the various elements that form the basis of respect and enthusiasm for another’s work might begin the rationalisation of the inspiration, but what is missing is the wholeness, that raw necessity in idea and belief that lies in the flesh and blood, and relates to it. Rationalisation establishes a barrier defined in its limitations that establish a platform for action removed from the emotive subtleties being sourced.




The situation has occurred with earthships, in spite of the manuals and guidelines, which makes one ponder this historical link that seems to want to be drawn between Gaudi and today’s styling. It is simply a mockery and misinterpretation of Gaudi’s work to link it to, for example, Gehry’s ‘crumpled brown paper bag’ building and others formed ‘fluidly’ on the basis of an inspirational scribble or an ‘interesting’ AI invention, in spite of any perceived correspondence in the 'wacky' visuals. The same can be said about Hadid’s morphed work, where forms are dredged up from what could be seen as computer games; mere happenstance. What appears to be ignored is the native intent. The similarity that allows the association to be suggested, seems to rely on the ‘different’ looks, the unusual appearance, and the analysed perception of these quirky forms that appear as mysteriously ‘strange’ as Gaudi’s work – hence the proposition.





EMBT.



Sydney Opera House.

In one way, the Sydney Opera House has a stronger connection to Gaudi’s work than the examples that claim to be parametric. The opera house is rooted in the rigour of spherical geometry, just as Gaudi’s work is grounded in funicular geometry. Utzon’s shells are defined by the example of the cutting of the orange in the same way as Gaudi’s forms are the outcome of weighted strings: but there is more: Gaudi’s work is also intertwined with Gaudi’s life and belief, his culture and contentment. It seems to be a very schematic notion to claim influence in part only, or on the basis of visual or a descriptive similarity alone when there is a wholeness that is experienced, appreciated, and desired. Does the claim simply become that “I am just like . . . in a particular way” alone? Where does intention lie in this matter? Is it critical or an irrelevant aside? Does one merely ignore personal matters, arguing that these are ‘unscientific’ – unreliable; too intimate? How does Gaudi’s strict Catholicism fit into this work? Can it be ignored?








Earthship.


Looking at earthships, the subtleties of intention and personal involvement can be seen to be critical. The original works have been truly handmade, much in the style of Gaudi’s process, (yet one would never claim that they were ‘inspired’ by Gaudi’s work), where thought, care, attention, and invention are brought to every act, ad hoc as it were, resulting in a set of surprises that gel to become the earthship. The intimacy of influence – it is terrible to think of Gaudi as ‘an influencer’ when we have today’s self-centred, promotional hoo-ha connotation – is always at least one step away from the grounds of these sensitive beginnings that might inspire others to seek to reveal what is really only an aspect of this experience, rather than delving into the inner nature of things, origins – situations, materials, possibilities - establishing a starting point that will always give lesser outcomes because of the neglect of the very matter that influences – a vital inner necessity (Kandinsky, Concerning the Spiritual in Art); a certain, essential integrity.


Earthship.

We need to try to understand the relationship between intentions and forms; the link between meaningful personal matters and actions. If we seek to be inspired or influenced by another, we need to look beyond form and process into matters far more ephemeral and significant, because otherwise we will only be dealing in visual matters or rational interpretations that will always be a matter of catch-up.


Earthship.

This is a personal and emotive subject that our era pushes aside with its excitement and interest in AI that becomes a huge distraction that keeps suggesting to us that we are involved in something meaningful, when all we are doing is creating an emotional void, a disconnect between feeling and form in the origins of form, irrespective of how we might intellectualise our inspiration. We need to try to understand how intentions matter.


Mercury.

Malek.

Another way to ponder the matter of intentions is to consider portrayals. The acclaimed re-enactment of Freddie Mercury’s Live Aid performance in 1985 by Rami Malek in the biographical film, Bohemian Rhapsody, a role for which he received an Academy Award for best Actor, allows one to consider inspirational sources and activities. While this 21 minute set in the movie has been played side by side with the original clip, such is its perfection, there remains a significant difference in intent that lies at the heart of matters referenced or inspired. It is how we manage this ephemeral difference that makes the difference. We might itemise the steps, the singing, the dancing, the gestures, etc., all to achieve a similarity, but Malek is not Mercury – he just appears to be. The importance here is the appearance, not the origins of this energy and enthusiasm for the event, and, one might add, the personal situation Mercury had become aware of. Architecture has stepped away from this emotional world and its relevance in action, being happy to deal with appearances alone, perhaps because it is too difficult to incorporate such subtlety in our lives, preferring to rationalise matters for a less challenging consumption – yet this significance is relevant.


Mercury.

Malek.

The Zen world seeks to touch on this field of intrigue in a variety of enigmatic ways, realising that getting close to these things destroys them, noting that: If you find the Buddha on the way, kill him. Yet we struggle on with rationalisations. It is this puzzle that lies as the challenge in Tagliabue’s inspiration/influence in spite of the fact that she particularly admires Gaudí's experimentation, use of physical models, collaboration with artisans and obsessive pursuit of making designs a reality, while also sharing with him a "common aim" in seeking to evoke nature with curving architectural forms.



Gaudi.


Tagliabue.

Le Corbusier: Ronchamp.

Irrespective of the enthusiasm of the 'same desire,' and the deep love for the work that inspires, matters personal remain relevant. With Gaudi it was his belief - in the service of the divine. Eric Biétry-Rivierre, in Antoni Gaudí, Modern Architecture’s Master of Synthesis and Glorynotes:

This modern architect in the service of the divine, mocked by both the avant-garde and the classical establishment, devoted all his energy to the Sagrada Família. 

https://www.lefigaro.fr/en/antoni-gaudi-modern-architecture-s-master-of-synthesis-and-glory-20260620.

We need more than ‘look-alikes’ if we are to be ‘inspired’ by Gaudi.







Our obsession with appearances leaves out so much of the subtlety of the whole. One could liken the easy availability of a demeanor to the durability of stone and the problems associated with this situation noted in the following quote from The First Inventors:

At the very bottom of the oldest archaeological site in Australia, we also find evocative pieces of cultural evidence; ochre crayons, finely worn into a recognisable nub. These speak to the rich inner worlds of their makers. It seems that art – long thought to be a relatively recent invention – was, in fact, part of the earliest societies to make Australia home.

The difficulty of reading into the deep past is that the evidence is uneven. Most of what matters to a culture or society will not survive hundreds, let alone thousands, of years. Relationships, desires and aspirations; tears, tenderness and joy; warmth, love and laughter; these have no archaeological trace. The challenge is not to conflate what has been left behind (ie., stone) with what was once considered to be important. This is the trap western scientists fell into when they dismissed Indigenous societies as ‘stone-age’ peoples, a classification that simply proves the tautology that durable things are durable, not that human lives revolved around stones. In fact, like elsewhere in the world, most technologies were made from fibres: nets, ropes, housing, clothing, fish traps. No peoples should be understood, or defined, by the longest lasting elements of their refuse. Instead, as novelist Rachel Kushner reflects, ‘We must learn to leave room for the rest, for the vast and vanished world of which durable traces form only a tiny part.’

Billy Griffiths, Larissa Behrendt and Sean Ulm, The First Inventors, Allen & Unwin, Australia, 2026, p.23/24.




There is an embodied complexity; see – https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2021/08/design-as-dreaming-hunt-not-hunting.html. Perhaps one can sum up the situation with the familiar adage: Never judge a book by its cover. The problem with inspiration as appearance alone is made clear in this article: https://www.designboom.com/design/antoni-gaudi-architecture-way-schiaparelli-haute-couture-daniel-roseberry/. Might one assume that Gaudi would not be amused by this indulgence? The void is a great as that referred to in this extract:

The richness of these narratives – and their topographic specificity – eludes easy description or explication. There is a remarkable map, drawn up by anthropologist Norman Tindale, but developed by Kaiadilt knowledge holders, which gives us a sense of the density of narrative on even a small place like Berntinck Island. Every inlet, every reef, every crest is known, named and storied. Yet even this finely wrought map flattens into ink the embodied understandings of these places. It fails to capture the layers of meanings, affiliations, rights and responsibilities attached to these land and sea estates. The feelings of home, the depth of ancestral connection, the obligations of care. Perhaps the closest any outsider can come to understanding the sensuous wonder of these places, and their irresistible pull to those responsible for them, is through fine artworks, such as the immense painting in the ton Island Art Centre, which has been created on and about Country.

Billy Griffiths, Larissa Behrendt and Sean Ulm, The First Inventors, Allen & Unwin, 2026, p.113/114.

The accessible appearance, 'the refuse,' is simply 'ink' on the page that is easily fudged and smudged. There is always far more than appearance. Consider the text on the Torres Strait double outrigger canoes:

In their colourful splendour the canoes look alive, and indeed, to those who craft and use them, they are sentient beings, imbued with spiritual meaning and capable of independent thought. They are ritually 'woken up' before a voyage, and how they are treated, and made, can influence the safety of a sea journey.

Billy Griffiths, Larissa Behrendt and Sean Ulm, The First Inventors, Allen & Unwin, 2026, p.133/134.#

Actions, with their intentions, have origins and consequences.

AI Overview

Antoni Gaudí, widely known as God’s Architect, dedicated his life to creating architecture that functioned as "a Bible in stone". Viewing nature as God's manuscript, he translated biological and geometric shapes into soaring, spiritual structures. His deep faith and profound designs recently led the Vatican to declare him Venerable in April 2025.


Inspired by Gaudi - God's Architect . . . ?


Are the body profiles inspired by the moulded ceiling forms?


Is the roof the idea for the hair styling?


Are the breasts inspired by the balconies; the fabric pattern, the tiling? *


Is this the inspiration for the model's legs?

Body form and architecture?

#

P.S.

Note on book design: why did the photographic inserts in the centre of this book not get positioned two pages earlier to be before Chapter 8, Kin, instead of being tucked in after the first page of this chapter? Is book production now all fully automated? Did anyone check the proofs?


*

One is reminded of a Ronnie Barker sketch where he is seen making suggestive gestures with his hands in front of his chest in an attempt to describe his conversation as he stumbles over his words: "The lady with the b-b-b-big b-b-b-bay windows."