Learning From the Paradox May Al-Ibrashy
I did not set out to start this short text on Learning from Cairo by referencing Bernard Tschumi. In fact, it seems perverse to do so especially given that the point of the symposium was to start to formulate theories grounded in our local realities and possibly liberated from the yoke of Western theory. Yet this is what came to me in what will be an unapologetic exercise in free association. So here goes … Bernard Tschumi talks of “eROTicism” – the pleasure of excess that comes from architecture being a practice caught within a paradox. It is a practice that is very much intertwined with the voluptuousness of the now, inextricably tied to the grittiness of the moment; both the moment of design as the architect mentally conceives and physically constructs the building, and the moment of interaction with the building as the user constantly recreates it through the simple act of moving through space and time. Yet, paradoxically, architecture is also grounded in a broader historical awareness of its place in theory and its role in the constant retelling of history, both as a buildingcrucible constantly acquiring meaning, and as part of a corpus of the built environment that informs our knowledge of what architecture is.1 The same – multiplied by as many buildings, streets and squares as there are globally – goes for cities.
we mostly talk to each other, not to the city’s residents and administrators. I am not an urbanist. I would never dare to embark on a field that is so ambitious – I both respect and pity those who do. I am an architect, a heritage advocate and – I hope – an educator and cultural operator. I know that we need to continue to talk. I know that the circle of talk has to widen. It also needs to go beyond the confines of academic walls into the city. And we need to work as we talk – and to make mistakes and learn from them. We must learn from the failures and successes we make with our own hands – in addition to those of others. And we must be brutally honest in sharing those mistakes and successes. We must suffer through the daily grind of the switch from the here and now to history and beyond. Even more, we must cultivate the ability to make it happen more frequently, and the vigilance required to turn these seemingly disorientating shifts into lucid thoughts and ideas. This is how we make new theory. This is what we need to teach in our universities. This is what we need to meet and discuss. This is the intention we need to arm ourselves with every time we go to the street to work with its people. This is how we learn from Cairo.
This also applies to gatherings such as Learning from Cairo. We sit. We talk and listen. We learn. In some cases we are exhilarated by what we learn. Yet this all happens with an awareness that as we sit and discuss Cairo, Cairo continues to happen outside our walls. And at the back of our minds is a nagging sense of inadequacy and guilt. Is this time better spent doing – not talking? But what do we do? We need to talk in order to know. At a time when much has been done in Egypt (revolution with a capital R!) it has been drowned in the sea of talk that followed. Yet we need to talk in order to understand. What about everyone out there who is reshaping our city without stopping to think or understand? Do we continue to talk until most of what we will come to realize was worth saving is no longer there? Especially given that 1: Tschumi, B.,2008 Architecture and Transgression. In H. F. Mallgrave & C. Contandriopoulos eds. 2008 Architectural Theory. London: Blackwell Vol. II: pp 448-451
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