Rhuthmos

Rhythm as Aesthetic Criterion (Part 1)

Pascal Michon — 2018-11-05T05:00:00Z

Sommaire

The 19^th century witnessed a remarkable spread of the concept of rhythm in art history and aesthetics in German speaking countries such as Germany, Switzerland, and Austria-Hungary. However, in order to better assess the novelty of this spread, we need first to understand the traditional views concerning the rhythm that had developed both in the artistic practice and in the philosophical reflection on beauty and art.

The Introduction of Eurhythmia into Architecture (Vitruvius – 1^st Cent. BC)

In volume 1 (p. 247 sq.), we have seen that the concept of rhythm was introduced into architecture by Vitruvius in the 1^st century BC. It did not yet, however, characterize a regular succession such as that of windows in a façade or columns under a portico but only an aesthetic quality, he called eurhythmy, produced by appropriate proportions between the various parts of a whole—especially between the height, the breadth and the length of a building—resulting from a special quality he called, borrowing again from the Greek, “symmetry.”

Eurythmy is beauty and fitness in the adjustments of the members. [Eurythmia est venusta species commodusque in compositionibus membrorum aspectus]. This is found when the members of a work are of a height suited to their breadth, of a breadth suited to their length, and, in a word, when they all correspond symmetrically [et ad summam omnia respondent suae symmetriae]. (De architectura, I, 2, 3, trans. Morris Hicky Morgan)

“Symmetria” did not mean though, as today, “a perfect correspondence in size, shape, and relative position of parts on opposite sides of a dividing line” but, as in classical Greek, συμμετρία – summetría – [lit. measured together PM] due proportion, suitable relation, convenient size (Liddel & Scott, A Greek-English Lexicon). Vitruvius made it clear for the Roman reader: it was “a proper agreement between the members of the work,” i.e. in three dimensions, resulting from a “relation between the different parts and the whole,” but he added “in accordance with a certain part selected as standard,” for instance the diameter of a column, the size of a triglyph, or that of a module. As far as I know, it has rarely been noticed but this last detail might well account for the transposition of the term rhuthmós to architecture. We know that Vitruvius most probably knew of Aristoxenus' work, as the section of his book on harmony, where the latter is extensively quoted, convincingly proves. The architectural rhythm would be then the result of the repetition of basic measures and their association into organized wholes, just as poetry or oratory resulted from the addition of feet or periods and their integration into larger wholes. This additive logic of the Ancient rhythmology appears indeed clearly in Aristoxenus (see vol. 1, p. 114) and it has been rightly underlined by Thrasyboulos Georgiades (1958, p. 15).

Symmetry [symmetria] is a proper agreement [conveniens consensus] between the members of the work itself, and relation between the different parts and the whole general scheme, in accordance with a certain part selected as standard. [...] In the case of temples, symmetry may be calculated from the thickness of a column, from a triglyph, or even from a module. (De architectura, I, 2, 4, trans. Morris Hicky Morgan)

Contrary to what is often said due precisely to Renaissance abusive reinterpretations, this “appropriateness” was not meant, as in music, according to a Pythagorean metaphysical and mathematical model drawn from the observation of the musical cords. Significantly, Vitruvius did not use here the term harmonia – agreement of sounds, consonance, concord, harmony which existed in Latin (Lewis & Short, A Latin Dictionary)—even if he devoted a later chapter of his book to the theory of harmony according to Aristoxenus in order to explain how to build a theater where the voice of the actors could be easily heard (Book 5, Chap. 4). His aesthetic model was the human body which, according to him, naturally possesses appropriate proportions—symmetria or eurhythmia—between its parts.

Thus in the human body the symmetry between forearm, foot, palm, finger, and other small parts constitutes a eurhythmic quality; and so it is with perfect buildings [ut in hominis corpore e cubito, pede, palmo, digito ceterisque partibus symmetros est eurhythmiae qualitas ; sic est in operum perfectionibus.] (De architectura, I, 2, 4, my trans.)

The appropriate proportions to be used by architects were those given by Nature to the human bodies.

For the human body is so designed by nature that the face, from the chin to the top of the forehead and the lowest roots of the hair, is a tenth part of the whole height; the open hand from the wrist to the tip of the middle finger is just the same; the head from the chin to the crown is an eighth, and with the neck and shoulder from the top of the breast to the lowest roots of the hair is a sixth; from the middle of the breast to the summit of the crown is a fourth. If we take the height of the face itself, the distance from the bottom of the chin to the underside of the nostrils is one third of it; the nose from the underside of the nostrils to a line between the eyebrows is the same; from there to the lowest roots of the hair is also a third, comprising the forehead. The length of the foot is one sixth of the height of the body; of the forearm, one fourth; and the breadth of the breast is also one fourth. The other members, too, have their own symmetrical proportions, and it was by employing them that the famous painters and sculptors of antiquity attained to great and endless renown. Similarly, in the members of a temple there ought to be the greatest harmony in the symmetrical relations of the different parts to the general magnitude of the whole. (De architectura, III, 1, 2-3, trans. Morris Hicky Morgan)

In short, in Vitruvius, “eurhythmy” did not refer to the aesthetic quality of a temporal sequence as in poetic, musical or dance movements, but to that of an immobile building resulting from the appropriate proportions of its parts, observed in three dimensions, determined by comparison with the human body, and springing from a shared measure.

This quite innovative use of the concept of rhythm—although probably inspired by the Aristoxenian idea of generation of a whole out of one or several basic measure units—had been apparently very successful during the first centuries AD. In his De musica musicologist Aristides Quintilianus (late 3^rd or early 4^th century AD) alluded to this new meaning which by his days had been already apparently enlarged to sculpture, while underlining that the “proper sense” concerned only the voice (see vol. 1, p. 311 sq.). It was passed on to the Moderns during the Renaissance.

From Eurhythmia to Concinnitas (Alberti – 1452)

In 1452, Leon Battista Alberti (1404-1472) published his De re aedificatoria – Ten Books on Architecture, which was the first architectural treatise of the Renaissance and was to become exceptionally influential during the whole modern era, echoing still late into the 20^th century as in Hans van der Laan's work Le Nombre Plastique: quinze Leçons sur l'Ordonnance architectonique (1960) (for a study of the relation between Alberti and van der Laan see Proietti, 2015).

Since Rudolf Wittkower's (1901-1971) groundbreaking essay “Alberti's Approach on Antiquity” (1940), Alberti's contribution has been repeatedly discussed. In 1985, Tavernor counted no less than 18 studies in the last thirty years that tried to give an account of Alberti's aesthetic categories and ideas—and mainly disagreed about them (1985, p. 9-10). Even Wittkower's views, which had dominated art history at least during three decades, have been since the 1980s the subject of much criticism. I won't enter here into these fierce debates; my aim is only to understand what became of the concept of eurhythmy during the Renaissance.

At first glance, one might get the impression that the concept of eurhythmy disappeared with Alberti altogether. His De re aedificatoria was heavily inspired by Vitruvius' book but it did not mention the concept of eurythmia. Let us note in passing that, as his predecessor, Alberti never used the term rhythm either to denote a succession of windows, columns, or ornaments. I could not find one single occurrence in any of the chapters 6, 7, 8, 9 where Alberti discusses the ornament to sacred, public and private buildings. Beauty was described, instead, as the result of concinnitas.

Beauty results from the definite congruity of all parts in a whole, fitted together with such proportion [Ut sit pulchritudo quidam certa cum ratione concinnitas universarum partium in eo cuius sint], that nothing could be added, diminished, or altered but for the worst. (Alberti, Ten Books, VI, 2, my trans.)

But in classical Latin concinnitas generally meant “a neat, elegant, or skilful joining of several things,” and more specifically in rhetoric, “a beauty of style, produced by a skilful connection of words and clauses” (e.g. Cicero, Orator. 44, 149) (Lewis & Short, A Latin Dictionary). It was the aesthetic and poetic result of “compositio – a proper connection in style and position of words, arrangement, disposition” (Lewis & Short, A Latin Dictionary).

Thus, much like Vitruvius' eurhythmia, concinnitas was defined by Alberti as resulting from correspondentia – correspondence, consensus – sympathy, or conspiratio partium – consonance between the various parts of a building. As a matter of fact, Alberti sometimes substituted for it Italian expressions such as consenso, concordanza. And it was eventually translated into Italian most often as concerto (Petsch ed., 1974, p. 82).

It is the task and aim of [congruity] [concinnitatis] to compose parts [differing from each other in their natures], according to some precise rule, so that they correspond to one another in appearance. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor, my mod.)

Another argument may also be put forward. As one may know, Wittkower has proposed a very famous—and bitterly discussed (e.g. Tavernor, 1985; Selzer, 2017)—analysis of the façade of the church S. Maria Novella in Florence. But whatever the accuracy of the measurements he used to prove his case, he significantly concluded his description by suggesting that Alberti provided with this façade “the first great Renaissance example of classical eurhythmia.”

The whole façade of S. Maria Novella can be exactly circumscribed by a square. A square of half the side of the large square defines the relationship of the two stories. The main storey can be divided into two such squares, while one encloses the upper storey. In others words, the whole building is related to its main parts in the proportions of one to two, which is in musical terms an octave, and this proportion is repeated in the ratio of the width of the upper storey to that of the lower storey. The same ratio of one to two recurs in the sub-units of the single stories. [...] Finally the dark square incrustations of the attic are one third of the height of the attic, and these squares are related to the diameter of the columns as 2:1. Thus the whole façade is geometrically built up of a progressive duplication or, alternatively, a progressive halving of ratios. It is clear that Alberti's theoretical precept that the same proportion be kept throughout the building has here been fulfilled. It is the strict application of an unbroken series of ratios that marks the unmedieval character of this pseudo-Proto-Renaissance façade and makes it the first great Renaissance example of classical eurhythmia. (Wittkower, 1971, p. 46-47)

Concinnitas is clearly quite close to eurhythmia. However, in his writings, instead of referring this aesthetic quality only to natural appropriate proportions springing from a shared standard, Alberti related it with three requisites engaging numerus, finitio, and collocatio, rendered in the most recent translation into English as number, outline, and position (Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor, 1988), or better yet, number, measured outline, and form (1988 – Glossary, p. 422).

Let us conclude as follows. Beauty is a form of sympathy and consonance of the parts [quendam consensum et conspirationem partium] within a body, according to definite number, outline, and position [ad certum numerum finitionem collocationem], as dictated by [congruity] [concinnitas], the absolute and fundamental rule in Nature. This is the main object of the art of building, and the source of her dignity, charm, authority, and worth. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor, my mod.)

The example given by Vitruvius for eurhythmy—“when the members of a work are of a height suited to their breadth, of a breadth suited to their length”—was now given by Alberti to illustrate only one of the three subcriteria of concinnitas: finitio – measured outline—a quite correct translation, in my opinion, since finis means limit, boundary (Tavernor also draws attention to the calibrated measuring tool recommended by Alberti for sculptors called the finitorium, 1985, p. 5).

For us, the outline is a certain correspondence [correspondentia] between the lines that define the dimensions; one dimension being length, another breadth, and the third height. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

The theory of concinnitas was therefore designed as an improvement of Vitruvius' aesthetic theory by the addition of two new categories. Collocatio – position or form does not raise major difficulties: it related to decisions that determine the arrangement of a building and was closed to the outlining of finitio.

Arrangement [collocatio] concerns the site and position of the parts. It is easier to sense when it is badly done than to understand how to do it reasonably. For it relies to a large extent on the judgment Nature instilled in the minds of men, and also has much in common with rules for outlines. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 7, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

But the third subcriterion, numerus, was less transparent. As far as I know, Alberti's numerus has always been translated as number and modern readers, after Wittkower, have usually associated it with quantity. Indeed, Alberti himself defined number as the correct or appropriate quantity of elements based on correspondences to what is found in nature. Animals, for example, move on an even number of feet and have an uneven number of apertures; a building, therefore, should have an even number of supports and an uneven number of entrances and exists.

[Our ancestors] realized that numbers were either odd or even; they employed both, but the even in some places, the odd in others. Taking their example from Nature, they never made the bones of the building, meaning the columns, angles, and so on, odd in number—for you will not find a single animal that stands or moves upon an odd number of feet. Conversely, they never made openings even in number; this they evidently learned form Nature: to animals she has given ears, eyes, and nostrils matching on either side, but in the center, single and obvious, she has set the mouth. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

However, some critics, have argued—quite unjustly in my opinion—that Wittkower laid too much emphasis on the sheer mathematical nature of numbers, especially their proportionality, without paying enough heed to their symbolic meaning. Conversely, these critics set out to show that the numbers that Humanists used were adopted for their Pythagorean qualities, and were not “mere quantities” (Tavernor, 1985, p. 4 – see for instance Hersey, 1976, p. 6-7).

Others, while recalling Wittkower's own reflection on “The Changing Concept of Proportion” (1960), have underlined the dual status of mathematics in Alberti.

When Alberti speaks of mathematics, he means either something eminently practical, like precise measurement—a requirement for accurate representation and structural stability—or something generally valid, such as scale, proportion and analogy, which he associates with order, beauty and perfection in both nature and art. (Aiken, 1980, p. 70)

In the entry “Measures: antique and modern” of the glossary they provide at the end of their translation, the translators of the last English edition (1988) notice that “sometimes the actual number of units is as important for [Alberti's] account as the overall absolute size.” Number here clearly means mathematical number. But they also refer the reader to the entry “Concinnitas” where the former can read this: “Numerus/number means quantity and also quality—in the Pythagorean-Platonic sense and as interpreted through various Christian commentaries, such as Augustine's City of God (see Alberti 9.5 and 9.6)” (1988, p. 422).

As most of his contemporaries, especially Florentine artists and architects, such as Ghiberti and Brunelleschi, Alberti advocated the imitation of Nature: buildings should compare with the corporeality of natural creations, therefore their builders should strive to understand and reflect the laws of Nature. And these laws were to be grasped from a humanist perspective that mixed the natural philosophy of Antiquity (known through Plato, neo-Platonists and Boethius) with Christian theology (translated through early commentaries such as Augustine's). In Book 9, chapter 7, for instance, following Augustine closely, Alberti compared the proportions of a man with the biblical description of Noah's Ark.

We know that in his De musica as well as in City of God, Augustine developed a full-fledged theology of numerus/rhythm on both neo-Platonic and Christian grounds (see vol. 1, chap. 9). Yet, we also know how Ambrose's and Augustine's neo-Platonic interpretations of the numeri were finally turned by Boethius, who was more of a mathematician than a poet or a rhetorician, into a generalized neo-Pythagorean worldview which cut loose from poetic and rhetoric. Due to Boethius' tremendous influence in the Middle Ages, the whole universe was to be considered for centuries, from a sheer Idealist perspective, as having been generated “according to the system of numbers.” This new philosophical framework explained why musical and poetic rhythms were entirely dissolved in more abstract celestial rhythms equated with the periods and cycles proper to the “music of the spheres” (see vol. 1, p. 390 sq.)

The influence of Boethius's late Pythagoreanism was certainly stronger on Alberti than that of Augustine's Christianized neo-Platonism. Although concinnitas was a concept borrowed from rhetoric, it was indeed first specified according to criteria belonging to the theory of music, which in the 15^th century, precisely due to Boethius' long-lasting influence, was still equated with geometry and arithmetic. This Idealist trend was then strengthened in the second half of the 15^th century by the rediscovery, translation and comment of Plato's works, especially the Timaeus, by Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499) and the Florentine Platonists.

I affirm with Pythagoras: it is absolutely certain that Nature is wholly consistent. That is how things stand. The very same numbers that cause sounds to have that [congruity] [concinnitas], pleasing to the ears, can also fill the eyes and mind with wondrous delight. From musicians therefore who have already examined such numbers thoroughly, or from those objects in which Nature has displayed some evident and noble quality, the whole method of outlining is derived. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor, my mod.)

Whereas Vitruvius clearly contrasted eurhythmia and symmetria, which denoted timeless phenomena as architecture, and harmonia, which conversely concerned temporal phenomena as music, Alberti thus directly compared concinnitas with harmonia, taking by the same token music in an atemporal sense.

We define harmony [harmoniam] as that consonance of sounds which is pleasant to the ears. Sounds may be low- or high-pitched. The lower-pitched a sound, the longer the string that emits it; the higher-pitched, the shorter the string. From the different contrasts between these sounds arise the varying harmonies which the ancients have classified into set numbers corresponding to the relationships between the consonant strings. [...] To sum up, then, the musical numbers are one, two, three, and four; there is also tonus, as I mentioned, where the longer string is one eighth more than the lesser. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

These harmonies were in fact only reflections on earth of superior harmonies occurring in the heavens. Nature itself had been created according to divine proportions and numbers such as three, seven, five and ten.

That Nature is composed of threes all philosophers agree. And as for the number five, when I consider the many varied and wonderful things that either themselves relate to that number or are produced by something that contains it—such as the human hand—I do not think it wrong that it should be called divine, and rightly be dedicated to the gods of the arts, and Mercury in particular. And as for the number seven, it is clear that the great maker of all things, God, is particularly delighted by it, in that he made seven planets to wander the heavens, and so regulated man, his favorite creature, that conception, formation, adolescence, maturity, and so on, all these stages he has made reducible to seven. [...] Aristotle thought the tenth the most perfect number of all; perhaps, as some interpret, because its square equals the cube of four consecutive numbers. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor, my mod.)

For architects the best proportions and the most beautiful arrangements were thus to be found in the numerical examples provided by “musicians,” i.e. theoreticians of music. Most interestingly, Alberti came back at the end of the chapter 5 to the congruity of the three dimensions that was precisely the basis of Vitruvius' eurhythmy, but this time it was to be determined by ratios drawn directly from musical harmony.

Architects employ all these numbers in the most convenient manner possible: they use them in pairs, as in laying out a forum, place, or open space, where only two dimensions are considered, width and length; and they use them also in threes, such as in public sitting room, senate house, hall, and so on, when width relates to length, and they want the height to relate harmoniously to both [volunt ad harmoniam correspondere]. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 5, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

Unsurprisingly, given the equivalence between music, geometry and arithmetic in the 15^th century, Alberti thus considered, in the next chapter, arithmetic as valuable source for architectural proportions.

When working in three dimensions, we should combine the universal dimensions, as it were, of the body with numbers naturally harmonic in themselves [qui aut cum ipsis harmoniis innati sunt], or ones selected from elsewhere by some sure and true method. Numbers naturally harmonic [In harmoniis enim insunt numeri] include those whose ratios form proportions such as double, triple, quadruple, and so on. [...] In establishing dimensions, there are certain natural relationships that cannot be defined as numbers, but that may be obtained through roots [square roots] and powers [squares]. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 6, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

Then he surveyed the three available Pythagorean numerical methods for the composition of the outline, “principally for establishing the vertical dimension” respectively to the two other dimensions: the “arithmetical,” ; the “geometrical,” ; and the last one, which was significantly called the “musical”: (Wittkower, 1962, p. 112, n. 3). The example given for this last method was 30, 40, 60—40 being “the desired musical mean, its distance from the greatest number being double that from the shortest, the same proportion as that which we proposed between the greatest and smallest extremes.”

Rules for the composition of outlines in three dimensions may be derived form other sources, apart from harmonies and bodies; these we must now discuss. There are several methods of three-dimensional composition that are particularly suitable; these are not only drawn from music and geometry but also arithmetic, and should be now examined. [...] Of the three “means” [mediocritates = three number a b c in a series, of which the middle one is the “mean” of those on either side] principally favored by philosophers, the easiest to find is that which they call the arithmetical [arithmetica]. [...] Another type is the geometrical one [geometrica] [...] The third mean, called “musical” [musica], is a little more laborious than the arithmetical, yet numbers define it perfectly. Here the proportion between the shortest and longest dimensions is the same as that between the shortest and the middle, and again the same as that between the middle one and the longest, as in the following example. Let the shorter number be thirty, and the longer sixty; one is double the other. Take the smallest possible numbers in the double: the first is one, and the other two; add them together to make three. Then take the difference between the longest number, sixty, and the shortest thirty, and divide it into three equal parts; each of these parts will be ten; and so add one such part to the shorter limit; this equals forty. Such is the desired musical mean, its distance from the greatest number being double that from the shortest, the same proportion as that which we proposed between the greatest and smallest extremes. By using means like these, whether in the whole building of within its parts, architects have achieved many notable results, too lengthy to mention. And they have employed them principally in establishing the vertical dimension. (Alberti, Ten Books, IX, 6, trans. Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach, & Robert Tavernor)

This is not to say that “this conformity of ratios and correspondence of all the parts, this organic geometry,” as Wittkower put it, expressed irreligious thoughts or were the illustration of a new secular spirit. On the contrary, “it should be observed in every building but above all in churches” because “without that organic geometrical equilibrium where all parts are harmonically related like the members of a body, divinity cannot reveal itself.” According to a renewed neo-Platonic understanding of Christianity, “this man-created harmony was a visible echo of a celestial and universally valid harmony” (Wittkower, 1971, p. 7-8).

Let us sum up. The reinterpretation by Alberti of the ancient Vitruvian concept of eurythmia as concinnitas did not make the former disappear—quite the contrary. It adapted it to the religious and philosophical concerns of the artists and theoreticians of the Quattrocento, and transmitted it to the Moderns. In his book, first published in 1949, Architectural Principles in the Ages of Humanism (I will quote the 1962 revised and expanded edition republished in 1971), Wittkower emphasized the crucial contribution of Alberti for setting the aesthetic and theoretical standards of Renaissance architecture, which were continuously imitated during the following centuries, at least until the 19^th century when “the harmonic mathematical conception of architecture was philosophically overthrown [...] and disappeared from the practical handling of proportions” (Wittkower 1971, p. 162).

In fact, Alberti's early contribution prompted a series of new research on Vitruvius which was intensively studied by Donato Bramante (1444-1514), Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), Michelangelo (1475-1564) and Baldassare Peruzzi (1481-1536). The first known Latin printed edition of De architectura was published by Fra Giovanni Sulpitius in Rome in 1486. Numerous translations followed in Italian (Cesare Cesariano, 1521), French (Ian Martin, 1547), German (Walther Hermann Ryff, 1575), Spanish (Juan Gracián, 1582), and English (Henry Wotton, 1624).

Through those new editions and translations, the Moderns had direct access to the concept of eurhythmy and it is of no surprise, as a brief survey shows, if the term was introduced during the 16^th century into most European languages: eurythmia in Italian by Cesare Cesariano (1521), eurythmie in French by Ian Martin (1547), Eurythmia in German by Walther Hermann Ryff (1575), eurythmia in Spanish by Juan Gracián (1582), and eurythmia in English by Henry Wotton (1624) before being rapidly anglicized as eurythmy (according to the Oxford English Dictionary).

However, the imprint given by Alberti's innovating reading made itself felt in its following interpretations and uses. The aesthetic model still indexed on practicality and human sensibility, which had been developed from the concepts of eurythmia and symmetria by Vitruvius, did not disappear but it was wrapped into new abstract, geometrical and mathematical concerns. In short, as far as rhythm was concerned, the influence of Aristotle (see vol. 1, p. 247 sq.) was largely overcome by those of Plato and Boethius (see vol. 1, p. 390 sq.).

This move had consequences of various range: it first gave a strong Idealist and Pythagorean overtone to part of Renaissance rhythmology which was in tune with the general trend that developed in a number of disciplines at the end of the Middle Ages until the end of the 16^th century (for medicine see vol. 2, chap. 1). As Wittkower put it,

Renaissance artists firmly adhered to the Pythagorean concept “All is Number” and, guided by Plato and the neo-Platonists and supported by a long chain of theologians from Augustine onwards, they were convinced of the mathematical and harmonic structure of the universe and all creation. (Wittkower, 1971, p. 27)

It also resulted in a remarkable rhythmological split within the fine arts which lasted at least until the middle of the 19^th century when cross-influences between the two sides of the divide and the resurgence of other rhythmic paradigms began to fill in the gap. Contrary to poetry, music, and dance, which remained faithful to the traditional metric concept of rhythm, architecture, sculpture and painting discarded it and developed a newer and concurrent acceptation based on the concept of musical, geometrical and arithmetical harmony. In other words, while the Democritean physical and the Aristotelian poetic paradigms continued to be ignored, the Platonic metric paradigm underwent a surprising division. The rhythmological tradition descending from the Laws (see vol. 1, chap. 2) was now challenged by another one descending from Plato's Timeaus and Boethius' De musica (see vol. 1, chap. 9).

For the next three centuries most of the artists and theoreticians concerned with architecture, sculpture and painting, endorsed the Vitruvian model either directly from the Latin text or through the interpretations that had been developed in the wake of Alberti's decisive contribution. In this part of the fine arts, the concept of rhythm was entirely emptied of temporal content and transformed into a spatial principle based on a “system of appropriate proportions.” The rhythm of a building, a statue or a painting was determined by its set of proportions, sometimes as a multiplication of a common module, sometimes not, and the piece considered as beautiful when this set was respecting a series of arithmetical norms related with musical harmony.

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Rhythm as Aesthetic Criterion (Part 2)

Pascal Michon — 2018-10-15T17:00:00Z

Sommaire

Previous chapter

The Spread of Eurythmie and Eurythmique in French between 1600 and 2000

It would certainly be very instructive to extend to the whole Modern period this first inquiry into the use of the concept of eurhythmy in aesthetic practices and theories. But I will here confine myself—hoping that a larger investigation might be conducted in the future—to two quick surveys of the spread in French language of the term eurythmie and the adjective eurythmique between the 17^th and the 20^th centuries, first as it appears through statistics of use and, secondly, through the definitions recorded in French dictionaries.

As one may know, the Google Books Ngram Viewer charts frequencies of search strings using a yearly count of “n-grams,” or contiguous sequence of n items, found in millions of books (450 millions words) printed between two given dates. Although it has been criticized—the corpora it uses are probably not sufficiently well diversified, they are marred with OCR and metadata inaccuracies, and are uncontrolled for bias—I think it can yield interesting results if handled with care and, before all, crossed with other sources. I used it to check on the frequency of the noun eurhythmie/eurythmie and the related adjective eurhythmique/eurythmique, in French between 1600 and 2000. The traditional spelling was replaced by the current one during the 1880s and 1890s but the latter was already used by the Académie française since the 17^th century (for the sake of clarity and accuracy I restricted the graphs to the period 1700-2000 and I chose a light smoothing of the curve by 3).

From 1600 to 1800, the frequency of the noun eurhythmie or eurythmie in French books is close to zero with a few exceptions at the end of the 17^th century (which does not appear here in fig. 1) and in the second half of the 18^th century. From 1800 to 1848, it oscillates around a low but constant mean. Things are notably changing at the end of the 1840s. Between 1850 and 1880 there is a first limited increase which becomes very strong after 1880 and lasts until the beginning of the 1920s. Eventually, the curve declines erratically until the 1980s before stabilizing around a medium level four times higher than that before 1850.

Fig.1 – eurhythmie and eurythmie (1700-2000)

Fig. 2 – eurhythmique and eurythmique (1700-2000)

Concerning the adjective eurhythmique or eurythmique (fig. 2), after two brief surges around 1800 and 1850, an exponential growth starts a few years before 1860 which lasts until the curve reaches a first peak in 1908-1909 and a second one in 1924. This success lasts, through ups and downs, until the end of the 1950s, when the curve slides down again and reaches an almost constant level which lasts till today.

In short, the noun eurhythmie/eurythmie and the related adjective eurhythmique/eurythmique seem to have been rarely used between 1600 and 1850, and become commonplace in French only in the second half of the 19^th century with a most remarkable spreading between the 1880s and the 1920s.

Eurythmie from Architecture to Sculpture and Painting (French Dictionaries – 1690-1832)

Let us turn now to our semantic enquiry (for practical reasons, I will limit it to the period between the 17^th and the 19^th centuries). Unless I am mistaken, the first entry for “Eurythmie” in a French dictionary can be found in the Dictionnaire universel de Furetière (1690 – I am using the 1701 edition). There is nothing similar in Jean Nicot's Thresor de la langue francoyse (1606), in Gilles Ménage's Les Origines de la langue françoise (1650), in Pierre Richelet's Dictionnaire françois (1680), nor in Pierre Bayle's Dictionnaire historique et critique (1697).

It significantly endorses the classical sense of “nice proportion” between “the members of a body.” Surprisingly, it does not mention architecture. However its typically Vitruvian wording clearly alludes to the use that has become common among architects since the 16^th century. It records anyhow an interesting extension of the concept to sculpture and by the same token a remarkable twist in the relation between arts. Whereas in the Renaissance the buildings were compared to human bodies, statues were now considered as pieces of architecture. There is no entry for the adjective eurhythmique.

EURHYTHMY. f.n. Term of Sculpture. It is a majestic and somehow easy and undemanding appearance, which appears in the composition of all the members of a body, and which results from their beautiful proportion. (my trans.) — EURYTHMIE. s.f. Terme de Sculpture. C'est une apparence majestueuse, & je ne sçai quoi d'aisé, & de commode, qui paroît dans la composition de tous les membres d'un corps, & qui resulte de leur belle proportion.

The Dictionnaire des arts et des sciences (vol. 1) sponsored by the Académie française and published by Thomas Corneille in 1694 demonstrates an obvious plagiarism, using quite clumsily and not without introducing a bit of obscurity the very same phrases as Furetière: “un je ne scai quoy d'aisé, & de commode.” But it provides the Greek etymology and rightly reintroduces the reference to architecture which obviously was lacking in its predecessor. It shows that, at the end of the 17^th century, the Vitruvian-Albertian definition of eurhythmie as an aesthetic effect resulting “from the pleasant and congruent proportion of all members of a body in architecture” was commonly accepted in French.

EURHYTHMY. f.n. Beautiful proportion. It is said of an easy and undemanding je ne sais quoi which has a majestic appearance and results from the pleasant and congruent proportion of all members of a body in architecture. This word is Greek, εὐρυθμία, and composed of εὐ, well, and, ῥυθμός, order, arrangement. (my trans.) — EURYTHMIE. s.f. Belle proportion. Il se dit d'un je ne sçai quoy d'aisé & de commode qui a une apparence majestueuse, & qui résulte de l'agréable & juste proportion de tous les membres d'un corps dans l'Architecture. Ce mot est Grec, εὐρυθμία & fait de εὐ, Bien, &, ῥυθμός, Ordre, arrangement.

Our semantic corpus seems to confirm our statistical findings. Eurhythmie/eurythmie was still very rarely used in the first half of the 18^th century. The first three editions of the Dictionnaire de l'Académie françoise published in 1694, 1718 and 1740 do not mention it. During the first part of the century it remains confined to specialized dictionaries.

Yet, there are two important exceptions to that rule. The Dictionnaire de Trévoux (1721), directed by Jesuits, obviously borrows from Furetière the “je ne sçai quoi d'aisé, & de commode.” But it also provides the Greek etymology as Corneille, and refers, for the first time, to uses concerning sculpture, architecture, and painting. It also gives some particulars concerning Vitruvius. The definition is unchanged, though. Eurythmie “results from the beautiful proportion” of an art work, whether a statue, a building, or a painting. As in the Académie's dictionary, there is no entry for the adjective eurythmique.

EURHYTHMY. f.n. Term of Sculpture, Architecture, Painting, etc. Eurythmia, elegantia. It is a majestic and somehow easy and undemanding appearance, which appears in the composition of all members of a body, a building, a painting, and which results from their beautiful proportion. This word is Greek, and means a nice consonance, a beautiful harmony, and, so to speak, the harmony of all parts. It comes from εὐ, Well, and, ῥυθμός, which means cadence, agreement of sounds, numbers and other similar things. Vitruvius puts eurhythmy among the species or essential parts of Architecture. He says that Eurhythmy is the beauty of the assembling of all parts of the work, which makes its appearance pleasant, when the height corresponds to the width, and the width to the length, the whole having its fair measure. (my trans.) — EURYTHMIE. s.f. Terme de Sculpture, d'Architecture, de Peinture, &c. Eurythmia, elegantia. C'est une apparence majestueuse, & je ne sçai quoi d'aisé, & de commode, qui paroît dans la composition de tous les membres d'un corps, d'un bâtiment, d'un Tableau, & qui résulte de leur belle proportion. Ce mot est Grèc, & signifie une bonne consonance, un bel accord, & pour ainsi dire, l'harmonie de toutes les parties. Il vient de εὐ, Bien, &, ῥυθμός, qui signifie la cadence, l'accord des sons, des nombres & d'autres chôses semblables. Vitruve met l'eurythmie parmi les espéces ou parties essentielles de l'Architecture. Il dit que l'Eurythmie est la beauté de l'assemblage de toutes les parties de l'oeuvre, qui en rend l'aspect agréable, lorsque la hauteur répond à la largeur, & la largeur à la longueur, le tout ayant sa juste mesure.

The second exception is Ephraim Chambers' Cyclopædia published in 1728. I introduce it in our corpus because it borrows heavily from the Dictionnaire de Trévoux and has been in turn very influential in France during the 18^th century. As his predecessors, Chambers extends the Vitruvian-Albertian definition from architecture, to painting and sculpture, provides the Greek etymology, and some information concerning Vitruvius, including a quote from John Evelyn's (1620-1706) Account of Architects and Architecture (1664). He does not provide any entry for eurythmic.

EURYTHMY, EURYTHMIA, in Architecture, Painting, and Sculpture ; a certain Majesty, Elegance, and Easiness appearing in the Composition of divers Members, or Parts of a Body, Building, or Painting ; and resulting form the fine Proportions thereof. See PROPORTION.

The Word is Greek, and signifies literally a Consonance, or fine Agreement, or as we may call it, a Harmony of all the Parts ; being compounded of εὖ,well, & ῥυθμὸς, Rythmus, a Cadence, or Agreement of Numbers, Sounds, or the like Things. See RYTHMUS.

Vitruvius ranks the Eurythmia among the essential Parts of Architecture : He describes it as consisting in the Beauty of the Construction, or Assemblage of the several Parts of the Work, which render its Aspect, or Whole Appearance graceful : E. gr. when the Height corresponds to the Breadth, and the Breadth to the Length, &c.

“From these three Ideas, (or Designs, viz. Orthography, Scenography, and Profile) it is, that the same Eurythmy, Majestica, and Venusta Species Edificii, does Result ; which creates that agreeable Harmony between the several Dimensions ; so as nothing seems disproportionate, too long for this, or too broad for that, but corresponds in just and regular Symmetry, and Consent of all the Parts with the whole.” Evelyn's Account of Archit. &c. See SYMMETRY.

The 6^th volume of Diderot's and d'Alembert's Encyclopédie published in 1751 explicitly refers the reader to the Dictionnaire de Trévoux and Chambers' Cylopædia. As his predecessors, the unknown author (the article is unsigned and is not from Diderot's hand since the latter signed all his contributions) extends the term eurythmie from architecture to painting and sculpture but wrongly attributes this extension to Vitruvius. Then, he recalls the Vitruvian-Albertian definition, provides the Greek etymology (translating as Chambers, probably because the second is obvious for the 18^th century reader, ῥυθμὸς with the Latin rhythmus) and equates eurythmie with harmonie, whose entry refers back to eurythmie. As in all contemporary dictionaries, no entry for the adjective eurythmique is provided.

EURHYTHMIE (Lib. Arts), is, according to Vitruvius, in Architecture, Painting and Sculpture, a somehow striking majesty and elegance in the composition of the different members or parts of a building, or a painting, which results from the appropriate proportions it has been endowed with. See PROPORTION.

This word is Greek and literally means harmony in all parts; it is composed of εὖ, well, & ῥυθμὸς, rhythmus, cadence or convenience of numbers, sounds and other similar things. S. RHYTHMUS.

This author places the eurhythmy among the essential parts of Architecture; he describes it as something which consists in the beauty of the construction, or the assembly of the different parts of the work which render its appearance agreeable: for example, when the height corresponds to the width, and the width to the length, etc. Dict. by Trev. & Chambers. (my trans.)

EURYTHMIE, (Arts lib.) c'est, en Architecture, Peinture, & Sculpture, selon Vitruve, une certaine majesté & élégance qui frappe dans la composition des différens membres ou parties d'un bâtiment, ou d'un tableau, qui résulte des justes proportions qu'on y a gardées. Voyez PROPORTION.

Ce mot est grec, & signifie littéralement une harmonie dans toutes les parties ; il est composé de εὖ, bien, & ῥυθμὸς, rhythmus, cadence ou convenance des nombres, sons, & autres choses semblables. V. RHYTHMUS.

Cet auteur met l'eurithmie au nombre des parties essentielles de l'Architecture; il la décrit comme une chose qui consiste dans la beauté de la construction, ou l'assemblage des différentes parties de l'ouvrage qui en rendent l'aspect agréable: par exemple, quand la hauteur répond à la largeur, & la largeur à la longueur, &c. Dict. de Trév. & Chambers.

HARMONY, in terms of architecture, it means a pleasant relationship between the different parts of a building. See EURYTHMY. (my trans.) — HARMONIE, en terme d'architecture, signifie un rapport agréable qui se trouve entre les différentes parties d'un bâtiment. Voyez EURYTHMIE.

An entry for eurythmie finally appears in the fourth edition of the Académie française's dictionary (1762), endorsing the reference to architecture and the Vitruvian-Albertian definition but without referring to sculpture and painting. The same wording is reused in the 1798, and 1832 editions. There is still no entry in these editions for the adjective eurythmique.

EURHYTHMY. f.n. Beautiful order, beautiful proportion. It is said of the beauty that results from all parts of an architectural work. (my trans.) — EURYTHMIE. Substantif f. Bel ordre, belle proportion. Il se dit de la beauté qui résulte de toutes les parties d'un ouvrage d'architecture.

If we associate these first results to what we learned by looking at the translations from Latin and Greek into modern European languages, the 16^th, 17^th, and 18^th centuries seem to have used the term eurhythmie/eurythmie—at least in French but it is likely that the same is true for German, Spanish, and English, as Chambers already strongly suggests—mostly in a Vitruvian-Albertian architectural guise which was extended to sculpture and painting during the first decades of the 18^th century.

Eurythmie from Architecture, Sculpture and Painting, to Medicine, Music, and Dance (French Dictionaries – 1842-2008)

The 19^th century French dictionaries—at least those published after 1840—demonstrate the continuation of this extension process, and consequently new semantic hybridizations, but they also record sudden changes and the emergence of entirely new meanings.

The Complément du dictionnaire de l'Académie française published in 1842 is the first to document the radical change that just occurred during the preceding decade. Cutting loose from the previous architectural Vitruvian definition, it starts by exposing the new medical sense of eurhythmie (for the transformations of the medical uses of the term rhythm see vol. 2, chap. 2) and—in a second move which is no less innovative—extends it to music. Due to the new intellectual atmosphere developing after 1830, empirical and positive science and its concepts have visibly become more important than art and the traditional categories of aesthetics. Moreover, among the fine arts, architecture, sculpture and painting, are left aside to the benefit of music. Eurhythmie begins to shift from space to time.

EURHYTHMY. f.n. (med.) Regularity of the pulse, of functions. || It is sometimes said in music for the pleasant choice of rhythm and movement for a piece. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIE. s.f. (méd.) Régularité du pouls, des fonctions. || Il se dit quelquefois, en musique, de l'heureux choix du rhythme et du mouvement d'un morceau.

The Complément also introduces, for the first time to my knowledge, the unheard-of adjective eurhythmique which, significantly, does not refer any more to “appropriate proportion” but is, instead, clearly related with the new medical acceptation of the term based on “regularity.”

EURHYTHMIC. adj. for both gend. (didact.) Having a regular rhythm. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIQUE. adj. des 2 g. (didact.) Qui a un rhythme régulier.

As its predecessor, the Grand dictionnaire universel du XIXe siècle (vol. 7 – E) published by Pierre Larousse in 1870 also refers, yet as second meaning, to the new medical acceptation. Concerning the fine arts, on which he first concentrates, the definition he provides, does not mention architecture any longer. It aims now mainly at music and dance, while the quote by Théophile Gautier (1811-1872) mentions Eugène-Louis Lequesne (1815-1887) a by-then-renown sculptor. This lack of the architectural reference must not however be overinterpreted but it certainly reflects a decreasing use. As a matter of fact, the traditional Vitruvian acceptation remains, in a ghostly state, in the quote referring—though without any supplementary explanation—to sculpture. However, the new association of eurhythmie with music and dance, which now comes first, is based on the quality of “the rhythm,” i.e. on the temporal organization of the musical flow or the dance movements. It implies also an interesting hybridization process by which the architectural concept is reintroduced into music and dance as “harmonious combination”.

EURHYTHMY. f. n. (yu-rith-me – from Gr. eu, well; rhuthmos, rhythm). Fortunate choice of sounds, harmonious rhythm, pleasant movement. By ext. harmonious combination: M. Lequesne has found the EURHYTHMY of movement, the balance of lines which was the secret of the Ancients. (Th. Gaut.) – Med. Regularity of the pulse. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIE. s. f. (eu-ri-tmi – du gr. eu, bien ; rhuthmos, rhythme). Mus. Heureux choix de sons, rhythme harmonieux, mouvement heureux. – Par ext. Combinaison harmonieuse: M. Lequesne a retrouvé cette EURHYTHMIE du mouvement, cette balance des lignes dont les anciens possédaient le secret. (Th. Gaut.) – Méd. Régularité du pouls.

The entry eurhythmique follows the same direction since it wraps the traditional concern for appropriate proportion into a much more recent emphasis on temporal regularity in music as well in medicine—which are significantly put on the same level. Larousse records an extension of this new adjective to “composition,” which significantly reduces the old Vitruvian-Albertian meaning to sheer regularity.

EURHYTHMIC. adj. (yu-rith-mik – root Eurhythmy). Being regular, having a regular rhythm. EURHYTHMIC composition. EURHYTHMIC beat of the pulse. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIQUE. adj. (eu-ri-tmi-ke – rad. Eurhythmie). Qui est régulier, qui a un rhythme régulier: Composition EURHYTHMIQUE. Battements EURHYTHMIQUES du pouls.

The Dictionnaire de la langue française published by Emile Littré in 1874 suggests the largest and also the most precise definition of the 19^th century series. According to Littré, eurhythmie is now used indifferently for architecture, painting, sculpture, music and medicine—he does not mention dancing. But he subtly records differences, which he clearly presents in chronological order, between “order” and “proportion” in architecture (from the 16^th-17^th centuries); “harmony of composition” in painting (from the 18^th centuries); “fine choice of rhythm and movement” in music, where the architectural acceptation as “nice proportion” is also used (from the 19^th century); and “regularity of the pulse” in medicine (from the 19^th century as well).

EURHYTHMY. (yu-rith-me. The Academy writes erroneously eurythmy), f.n. || 1° Nice order, nice proportion, speaking of all parts of an architectural work. || 2° Term of painting and sculpture. Harmony in the composition. || 3° Term of music. Fine choice for the rhythm and movement of a piece; nice proportion between the parts. || 4° Term of medicine. Regularity of the pulse. – ETYM. εὐ, well, and ῥυθμός, rhythm. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIE. (eu-ri-tmie. L'Académie écrit à tort eurythmie), s.f. || 1° Bel ordre, belle proportion, en parlant de l'ensemble des parties d'un ouvrage d'architecture. || 2° Terme de peinture et de sculpture. Harmonie dans la composition. || 3° Terme de musique. Heureux choix du rhythme et du mouvement d'un morceau; belle proportion entre les parties. || 4° Terme de médecine. Régularité du pouls. – ÉTYM. εὐ , bien, et ῥυθμός, rhythme.

As the Complément and Larousse before him, Littré records the sense of the new adjective eurhythmique as “being regular.”

EURHYTHMIC. (yu-rith-mic) adj. Having a regular rhythm. (my trans.) — EURHYTHMIQUE. (eu-ri-tmi-k') adj. Qui a un rhythme régulier.

In the 20^th century, the definition of the term eurythmie seems stabilized. Paul Robert in his Dictionnaire alphabétique et analogique de la langue française (1955, vol. 2, p. 1783), endorses all subentries provided by Littré eighty years before. He adds only two quotes. The only difference concerns the adjective eurythmique, which does not indicate its medical sense and now refers only to an harmonious musical composition. The presentation is exactly similar in the 2008 edition of Le Nouveau Petit Robert, except for the first occurrence of eurhythmique dated 1838.

EURHYTHMY. f. n. (1547; Gr. eu, well, and ruthmos, rhythm). Talking about an architectural work, a sculpture, a painting..., Fortunate harmony in the composition, the proportions of the whole. S. Agreement (II), balance, harmony.

“When, he says (Vitruvius), this chain of proportions ... expresses ... an appropriate agreement of the members between them, and the correspondence of each part with the whole, ‘as we see in the human body,' the architect reaches eurhythmy, an harmonious success analogous to that sought by the musician in the composition of a symphony.” M.C. GHYKA, in ENCYCL. EN. (of MONZIE), XVI, 28, 6.

— Mus. Fortunate choice of sounds.

— Med. Regularity of the pulse.

— Fig. Balance, harmony.

“This is a fairly broad picture, and banal enough to be symbolic, of a natural and happy life. See, then, the eurhythmy of the human existence in its useful movements.” MAETERLINCK, Life of Bees, p. 245.

DER. — Eurhythmic. adj. (1864). Whose composition is harmonious. (my trans.)

EURYTHMIE. n. f. (1547; gr. eu, bien, et ruthmos [sic], rythme). En parlant d'un ouvrage d'architecture, d'une sculpture, d'une peinture..., Heureuse harmonie dans la composition, les proportions de l'ensemble. V. Accord (II), équilibre, harmonie.

« Lorsque, dit-il (Vitruve), cet enchaînement de proportions ... traduit ... un accord convenable des membres entre eux, et la correspondance de chaque partie avec l'ensemble, “comme on le voit dans le corps humain”, l'architecte obtient l'eurythmie, la réussite harmonieuse analogue à celle que recherche le musicien dans la composition d'une symphonie. » M. C. GHYKA, in ENCYCL. FR. (de MONZIE), XVI, 28, 6.

— Mus. Heureux choix des sons.

— Méd. Régularité du pouls.

— Fig. Équilibre, harmonie.

“C'est le tableau assez large, et assez banal pour être symbolique, d'une vie naturelle et heureuse. Voyez donc l'eurythmie de l'existence humaine dans ses mouvements utiles.” MAETERLINCK, Vie des abeilles, p. 245.

DER. — Eurythmique. adj. (1864). Dont la composition est harmonieuse.

Let us recapitulate our findings. From the 1840s, the use in French of the terms eurhythmie and eurhythmique—it is not necessary to differentiate here between the spellings—underwent a series of significant transformations.

1. The term eurhythmie has been appropriated by medicine and life science which, as a matter of fact, benefited from a very ancient and largely autonomous rhythmological tradition (see vol. 1, chap. 4 and 7, vol. 2, chap. 1).

2. In this case, its meaning, naturally, did not denote any longer an aesthetic quality and was not borrowed either from the fine arts, but was directly derived from the medical and physiological concept of “rhythm,” under the new guise it was now endowed with, and therefore associated with the concept of “regularity,” particularly that of the pulse (vol. 2, chap. 2).

3. This change was reflected in the sudden emergence of a new adjective eurhythmique which, in the 19^th century, usually denoted the regularity of the pulse, although Larousse noted, in the second part of the century, a possible aesthetic—and secondary—use.

4. Concerning the fine arts, eurhythmie underwent a radical change as well. It seems to have been applied less and less to architecture, sculpture and painting (which is recorded only once, by Littré in 1877), and henceforth preferably used for describing the aesthetic quality of music and dance.

5. Consequently, in the artistic field, the meaning of the term eurhythmie shifted during this period from the aesthetic effect resulting from the appropriate proportions of the parts of a work of art (be it a building, a sculpture or a painting) to that produced by the well arranged rhythm of a piece of music or a choreography. There was a significant tilt from spatial to temporal concerns.

6. This fast growing reference to time and regularity after 1840 seems to have resulted in two opposite hybridization processes. As the musical example given by Littré demonstrates (“belle proportion entre les parties”), this mutation was accompanied by the re-affirmation in music and dance of the order-and-harmony concern proper to the Vitruvian-Albertian definition.

As a matter of fact, a new attention towards the overall segmented arrangement or arranged segmentation of a piece developed during that period and became the basis for the differentiation between rhythm, conceived as an articulated overarching structure, and meter, which was then reduced to the basic repetitive pulsation. Rhythm could then be understood as a sort of structural compensation for the new primacy of meter and time.

7. Poetry does not seem to have been directly influenced by this move because it had, since the 18^th century, developed its own categories, but one could certainly find comparable concerns for an integration of the poetic whole from the largest to smallest units and the opposition between rhythm and meter in the most important poetic theories from the 18^th and 19^th centuries (see vol. 2, chap. 3, 4 and 8).

8. The second hybridization movement was going in the opposite direction. Once the term eurhythmie had been stripped of its spatial, metaphysical and mathematic connotations inherited from the Ancient and Medieval conception of music, and introduced into music and dance, now understood as temporal practices organized around a metric base, it could support in turn the introduction of the rhythm concept, defined this time as regularity, into architecture. Architects and, as we shall see, art historians started to talk about rhythme des colonnes/des fenêtres to denote a regular succession of columns or windows which became the support of a new kind of eurythmie.

Although it is difficult to draw qualitative interpretation only from frequency figures, we may get a glimpse into this new conceptual turn by looking, with the Google Books Ngram Viewer, at the frequency of the expression rythme des colonnes – rhythm of columns between 1800 and 2000. The Viewer does not yield any results before 1910, which we know is quite untrue. A simple research through any search engine shows occurrences multiplying during the 19^th century in French, in fact as well as German and English. But, since positive results cannot, by contrast, be doubted, it seems to suggest that a spreading occurred in the first half of the 20^th century. The expression rythmes des fenêtres – rhythm of windows/windows rhythm followed the same path.

Naturally, as in music, some theorists like the English architect and practitioner of the Victorian Gothic revival George Edmund Street (1824-1881) emphasized the need not to fall into sheer mechanic regularity: “Arrange the columns with perfect regularity and without any thought, and there is no rhythm.”

The next quality at which we must aim is, like the former, one which is common to our own and other arts. The poet cannot afford to neglect style in his work any more than he can venture to trifle with its rhythm, and a perfect building has its rhythm as well as its style. It is a quality very difficult to describe in words, but in architecture it is an art depending on numbers and proportions. [...] No doubt it is sometimes secured by direct application of geometrical figures, at other times by that instinct for the beautiful which makes a trained eye go so near to the figures or proportions which might be drawn by rule, but to which the charm is added of something which is fresh, human, and suggestive in its very departure from exactness. Take the simplest case conceivable, that of a Greek portico. Arrange the columns with perfect regularity and without any thought, and there is no rhythm ; but arrange them so that a dominant point in the base shall be placed in a certain relation to another, as, e.g. the centre in one of the column's or capitals, or in the pediment, and that the line which connects these two points be one which, if repeated again, connects other marked features, and you at once have a simple and admirable sort of rhythm. (Memoir of George Edmund Street, London, 1888, p. 345)

Next chapter

De l'ancrage aux voyages : retour sur la morphologie sociale de Marcel Mauss ou comment comprendre l'espace en le représentant

Daniel Pinson — 2012-12-18T19:40:34Z

Sommaire

Ce texte a été présenté lors du colloque « La sociologie de l'architecture, un domaine de savoir en construction ? », 17-18/10/2011, ENS d'Architecture de Paris La Villette, dans les actes duquel il sera bientôt publié. Nous remercions Daniel Pinson et les organisateurs de nous avoir permis de le reproduire ici.

L'approche ici présentée doit beaucoup à Marcel Mauss et tout particulièrement à son étude pionnière en matière de « morphologie sociale : « Essai sur les variations saisonnières des sociétés eskimos, Étude de Morphologie sociale » [1]. La démarche de Mauss est en effet une approche holistique où le substrat matériel n'a pas moins d'importance que les rapports sociaux et les représentations culturelles et c'est cet aspect, qui, comme architecte, cherchant à comprendre les relations entre les dispositions de l'espace, les pratiques qu'y développent les usagers comme les représentations qu'ils se font de cet espace ou les significations qu'ils y inscrivent, m'a tout particulièrement intéressé, au fil de ma pratique d'enseignant chercheur en architecture, puis en urbanisme C'est, de mon point de vue, un modèle fondateur, et rarement égalé, d'étude sur ces relations systémiques, ou dialogiques pour parler comme Edgar Morin.

Certes, Mauss n'est pas un socio-anthropologue méconnu ; cependant en réaction à cette mauvaise habitude que prennent les sciences sociales aujourd'hui de vouloir refaire le monde et d'édicter à tout prix de nouveaux paradigmes révolutionnaires, on se félicitera que l'anthropologue Bernard Saladin d'Anglure – Université Laval de Québec – ait rappelé, il y a quelques années, l'actualité de Mauss [2]. Un bref retour mérite d'être fait sur la morphologie sociale. Elle participe grandement à l'approche du « fait social total » chère à Marcel Mauss. Dans un article pour la Grande Encyclopédie de 1901 [3] : « La Sociologie, objet et méthode », Paul Fauconnet et Marcel Mauss considèrent qu'elle constitue l'une des deux parties de la sociologie, à côté de la « physiologie sociale ». Si cette dernière s'intéresse aux idées et aux actions, la morphologie sociale concerne pour sa part les « phénomènes matériels » ; elle est « l'étude des structures matérielles ».

Dans son étude sur les Inuits, Mauss y revient de façon encore plus précise, en se démarquant de la géographie humaine de Vidal de la Blache : « … nous désignons par ce mot la science qui étudie, non seulement pour le décrire, mais aussi pour l'expliquer, le substrat matériel des sociétés, c'est-à-dire la forme qu'elles affectent en s'établissant sur le sol, le volume et la densité de la population, la manière dont elle est distribuée ainsi que l'ensemble des choses qui servent de siège à la vie collective… » [4]. À ce propos, dans l'article cité plus haut, Bernard Saladin d'Anglure signale une note de Mauss très intéressante dans l'édition originale, finalement raturée (il semble qu'il n'ait pas voulu déplaire à son oncle), qui apporte la précision suivante : « Le présent travail devrait dissiper aussi un malentendu que M. Durkheim a laissé subsister dans la deuxième édition des Règles de la méthode sociologique (1903) dans une note où il ne semble pas distinguer entre la morphologie sociale et l'étude de la structure juridique de la société. On verra ici, bien nettement, que la morphologie sociale d'une population consiste dans l'étude de l'ensemble des phénomènes qui l'attache au temps et à l'espace, c'est-à-dire des phénomènes géographiques et démographiques qui caractérisent sa vie matérielle… ». Mauss fait référence à ce passage de la préface aux « Règles » où Durkheim réduit la sociologie à une « science des institutions » [5].

Le statut des dessins dans l'étude de Mauss sur les Inuits (1905)

Pour ma part, je souhaite ici m'arrêter sur le statut des documents graphiques qui accompagnent l'étude de Mauss et de son collaborateur, prématurément disparu, Henri Beuchat, signataire de la plupart des

cartes et des dessins de maisons. Ils ne constituent en aucune façon une simple illustration de leur propos, mais bien des données d'observation et/ou des schémas interprétatifs indispensables à leur mise en évidence des rapports particuliers hommes / environnement.

Ces éléments graphiques jouent par conséquent un rôle heuristique lorsqu'ils sont mis en relation avec d'autres données, climatiques, économiques, sociales ou religieuses et participent du dévoilement des dialogiques qui structurent les relations entre les individus, sur de multiples plans, entre ces derniers et leur gibier, entre ces deux partenaires et les alternances climatiques.

On a là une attention à la donnée matérielle, architecturale ou territoriale en l'occurrence, qui aura rarement, en sociologie, la présence qu'elle a pu avoir dans le travail de Mauss sur les Inuits, sinon dans quelques écrits de Lévi-Strauss et de Bourdieu.

D'une certaine manière la sociologie a tendu à se réduire à la seule physiologie sociale, laissant à l'ethnologie la morphologie sociale qu'une approche en termes de « culture matérielle » a eu tendance, plus tard, à restreindre à une approche technique. Mauss a peut-être pu participer à cette évolution ultérieure en classant (cf. son Manuel d'ethnographie publié post-mortem) l'habitat dans la morphologie sociale et l'habitation dans les techniques de consommation. À cet égard, Bourdieu s'affranchira totalement de cette réduction dans son étude de la maison kabyle (1972).

Quoi qu'il en soit, ce Manuel d'ethnographie [6] que Denise Paulme aura rédigé à partir des notes de cours de Mauss à l'Institut d'Ethnologie, constitue, de mon point de vue et pour ce qui concerne plusieurs chapitres, un outil précieux dans l'enseignement d'une sociologie ouverte sur l'architecture, sur l'origine des ressources qu'elle met en œuvre et sur les dispositifs qu'elle adopte pour répondre à des pratiques de groupement familial variables. Et cet outil n'est pas moins efficace dans la recherche sur l'architecture et les territoires, dès lors qu'elle a comme objet non pas tant les conditions de leur production que les artéfacts créés et appropriés.

Par ailleurs, si j'insiste dans mon texte sur l'importance du document graphique, comme mode d'expression d'espaces dont la description et l'analyse ne peuvent se suffire des mots, je n'oublierais pas - et la référence à mes deux études, l'une plus attentive à l'espace domestique, l'autre à son rapport avec la ville, est faite pour le souligner - l'apport de Mauss tout à fait important, novateur pour ne pas dire prémonitoire, à la mise en évidence des faits de mobilité liant la demeure à ses territoires. Saisis dans leurs dimensions temporelles et sociales, ils traversent une problématique d'une brûlante actualité, mais trop souvent abordée comme une révélation, ce que l'étude de Mauss sur les Inuits permet de relativiser !

Deux recherches mobilisant la représentation graphique de l'architecture et des territoires

Ce cadrage étant fait, je vais donc prendre appui sur deux recherches, espacées d'une quinzaine d'années, et portant, la première sur la maison d'accession des familles populaires, dans la région nantaise (années 1985), la seconde sur les mobilités qui sont agies par les habitants de la maison dans des territoires urbains écartés, ceux de l'agglomération d'Aix-Marseille (années 2000). Elle vont me permettre de montrer la place de la documentation graphique dans la collecte des données et leur importance dans le dévoilement, pour la première, d'une typologie des maisons d'accession et son rapport avec les figures familiales concernées, et dans la distribution, pour la seconde, des mobilités, contraintes ou choisies, et leur contribution au façonnage des sentiments d'appartenance territoriales, pour des familles caractérisées par un processus de forte individuation.

Du logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres

La première recherche : Du Logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres [7] a été réalisée en 1983-1985 dans le cadre d'un contrat entre le Plan Construction du Ministère de l'Équipement et l'URA CNRS LERSCO de l'Université de Nantes qui était l'un des meilleurs centres de recherche en sociologie à cette époque. Elle intervient au moment où la construction des grands ensembles s'épuise en opérations inachevées (années 1970). Cette période est en même temps marquée par une poussée de l'accession à la maison individuelle, engendrant d'abord la rurbanisation (la construction dans des villages proches de la ville), puis la périurbanisation (la construction entre ces villages et les villes).

Partant de L'Espace ouvrier de Michel Verret (1979) [8], ouvrage brillamment et substantiellement extrait du matériau statistique existant au plan national, d'une part, et des couples d'opposition socio-spatiaux révélés, dans L'habitat pavillonnaire [9], par la sociologie qualitative des Raymond-Haumont (1964), d'autre part, une équipe, formée d'enseignants chercheurs du département de sociologie et de l'École d'architecture de Nantes, entreprend une investigation sur « le rapport entre cultures du travail et cultures de l'habitat », à partir de deux collectifs de salariés d'usines contrastées, la première relevant de la vieille industrie métallurgique nantaise, localisée à la lisière de la partie agglomérée de la ville, la seconde dans une zone industrielle de banlieue. Un échantillon représentatif est formé à partir des listes ouvertes pour les élections prudhommales et constitue la cible d'enquêtes qualitatives au domicile.

À un entretien classique est associé le recours complémentaire au « relevé d'espaces habités », technique élaborée au croisement de l'architecture et de l'ethnographie. Reprise d'une tradition qui prend sa source dans diverses contributions qui vont de la « Situation des classes laborieuses… » de Engels jusqu'aux monographies de l'Architecture rurale du Musée des Arts et Traditions Populaires (Jean Cuisenier), la méthode était aussi pratiquée dans d'autres études menées par les écoles d'architecture. Elle présentait cet avantage de rendre compte, graphiquement, de l'espace concret, et répondait ainsi à cette invitation faite par Henri Lefebvre dans son introduction à L'habitat pavillonnaire : « Ici, nous proposons une orientation. L'entretien, nécessaire, ne suffit pas. On ne saurait le compléter seulement par des fiches, même détaillées, découpant en rubrique l'environnement social de l'interviewé. La description minutieuse est importante : celle des maisons, des biens meubles et immeubles, des vêtements, des visages et des comportements. Seule la confrontation entre les données sensibles, telles que les perçoit le sociologue et telles qu'il cherche à les saisir comme ensemble, d'une part, et d'autre part les lieux, les temps et les choses perçues par les intéressés, permet une connaissance… » (p. 12).

Sur la cinquantaine d'enquêtes exploitables, quinze ont donné lieu à l'élaboration d'une soixantaine de fiches ethnographiques permettant de saisir la maison à toutes les échelles de pratiques de leurs habitants, de la chambre au pays le plus lointain de leurs déplacements.

Le titre donné à la recherche achevée, qui est aussi celui de l'ouvrage publié par le Plan Construction : Du Logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres [10], traduit bien le principal résultat de cette recherche. Si la trace des cultures du travail laisse son empreinte sur de nombreux aspects des pratiques, des représentations et de la configuration des lieux habités, elle n'en détermine pas principalement la typologie. Cette dernière ne peut être directement rapportée aux univers distincts ni aux métisses professionnelles spécifiques de chacune des usines considérées. La classe ouvrière est largement sortie d'une autarcie antérieure postulée, ou supposée, et les unions matrimoniales, les inscriptions

professionnelles des conjoints font éclater l'homogénéité économique et culturelle du monde ouvrier, ouvrant les horizons d'une ascension sociale manifeste. L'accession à la propriété en est une traduction saisissante : là où les captifs du logement social, ménages où la plupart du temps seul l'homme travaille, vivent encore une condition fermée, les accédants engagent des projets très divers entre la « maison-limitation », celle qui oblige au contrôle maximal des dépenses de consommation comme d'aménagement et d'équipement de la maison, et la « maison-passion » où se déploie une mobilisation maximale des relations familiales et de l'énergie personnelle.

À la différence des travaux quantitatifs qui nivellent, l'investigation qualitative, et encore plus lorsqu'elle s'enrichit de la lecture des objets contenus et de leur contenant la maison, met en évidence, comme l'avait déjà fait remarquer Edgar Morin dans Plodémet [11], ce qui « significatif » des évolutions de la société, bien plus que ce qui peut en être « représentatif », et d'une certaine manière statique.

Ces relevés ont été présentés à la manière de bandes dessinées : les bulles y sont remplacées par des légendes qui précisent la nature, voire l'histoire et le sens des objets remarquables dont l'interviewé a dévoilé l'origine et l'importance qu'il y accordait et pour lequel le chercheur-dessinateur a pu élaborer, à partir des photos prises lors de la visite-enquête, une représentation spécifique : le porte pot de fleurs en fer forgé, la cuisine d'été de l'entre sol, saturée par les bocaux de conserves ou les pots de confiture autoproduits, le parquet de la salle de bal domestique confectionné à partir du bois récupéré à l'usine pour l'occasion du mariage du fils, etc.

Les éléments présentés dans ces planches résultent d'une confrontation entre les entretiens enregistrés et les photos prises sur le vif, lors de la visite qui succédait à l'entretien. Cette confrontation, résultat d'une relecture et d'une remémoration des habitations visités, croisent les données orales et visuelles, les documentent lorsqu'elles appellent des compléments d'information (accès aux documents cadastraux ou aux dossiers du permis de construire) et sélectionnent ces données, leur mise en légende en fonction de l'importance que le chercheur a décelé dans les discours ou parfois le silence éloquent de l'habitant. La réalisation des planches ethnographiques qui en résultent, indépendamment du choix des éléments représentés, obligeant le chercheur dessinateur à associer rigueur et sobriété dans l'exécution de son dessin, empruntent dans sa facture le style graphique de certains dessinateurs connus, tel que Caza [12].

La méthode, exécutée sous cette forme pour cette recherche, l'a été par la suite, en faisant collaborer des étudiants, sur la Maison Radieuse de Le Corbusier construite à Rezé, pour une recherche-action coïncidant avec le centième anniversaire de la naissance de Le Corbusier [13], puis sur le logement économique au Maroc [14], intéressant pour la multitude de détournements dont il fait l'objet de la part des habitants. Ces derniers refabriquent en effet un « contre-type domestique » à la place du modèle étatique que l'administration leur a imposé.

La maison en ses territoires

Cette seconde recherche [15] est en quelque sorte une suite de Du logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres. Le contexte a changé, en temps, en lieu et discipline pour moi, passant de l'architecture à l'urbanisme, de Nantes à Aix-Marseille, mais aussi pour le monde dans son ensemble comme pour celui de la recherche. Le débat sur la ville et l'urbain bat son plein avec la parution d'un article de Françoise Choay : « Le règne de l'urbain et la mort de la ville » [16] qui développe de manière originale un thème déjà abordé de longue date par Henri Lefebvre. Et bien d'autres recherches vont dans ce sens, celle de Gabriel Dupuy qui note le passage des territoires urbains de l'aréolaire au réticulaire, et d'autres qui parlent de ville-archipel, métapolitaine, émergente. Ce dernier adjectif est introduit par Yves Chalas et Geneviève Dubois-Taine pour initier au PUCA (Plan Urbanisme Construction Architecture), un appel d'offres visant à explorer, contre les idées anciennes et préconçues qui définissent la ville, ses évolutions et son avenir, les figures inattendues de l'urbain.

Tandis que les autres chercheurs d'Aix-Marseille focalisent leur recherche sur un lieu emblématique de cette « ville émergente », Plan de campagne, la seconde plus grande zone commerciale d'Europe, nous décidons d'investiguer sur le pavillon du périurbain, la villa d'écart. Dans la région d'Aix-Marseille, elle a proliféré sous les auspices du laxisme de certains élus municipaux et des prérogatives données aux communes par les lois de décentralisation des années 1980. Plus que la maison elle-même, comme l'abordait Du logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres, c'est son lien à la ville que nous voulions investiguer, pour faire la démonstration que cette maison d'écart (la « villa »), havre de paix créé pour le repos, engendrait peut-être son inverse, un désenchantement lié à une multiplication des déplacements vers la ville, avec un recours obligé à la voiture particulière du fait de l'insuffisance de transports collectifs dans ces parties de territoires retranchées.

La méthode s'apparente à celle de la précédente recherche ; elle en diffère cependant dans la mesure où l'analyse met bien plus l'accent sur le déplacement dans l'espace entre la maison et la ville que sur l'espace domestique lui-même. L'entretien au domicile (35 entretiens) dans trois communes contrastées et rationnellement choisies aux environs d'Aix (Cabriès, Fuveau, Puyloubier) est au cœur de la démarche. Il s'agit, en interrogeant indépendamment les membres de la famille, d'identifier les « pérégrinations » (M. Wiel) des habitants de la villa et les territoires qu'elles construisent, d'examiner le rapport de ces mouvements et de ceux qui les engendrent avec la maison et la ville, leurs sens, de laisser dire la part de satisfaction du projet accompli d'accession en villa et de faire dire la part de déception d'une réalité qui n'est finalement pas de tout repos.

Le recours à la représentation graphique est là aussi utilisé, cette fois pour les déplacements, comme l'avaient fait Mauss et Beuchat – à leur manière – pour représenter la contraction des territoires inuits, entre établissements d'été et établissements d'hiver. Ce travail de mise en carte s'est fait, comme pour la recherche sur le logement en Basse Loire, toujours en lien avec la passation des entretiens : leur conduite, semi-directive, invite les personnes interrogées à nommer et à localiser les lieux de destinations afin de produire des esquisses d'itinéraires parcourus, en empruntant aussi à la méthode des « esquisses de plans » de Kevin Lynch,

un classique de l'urbanisme [17]. On sait que, pour rendre compte de la capacité expressive de la ville, Lynch avait dégagé cinq facteurs significatifs de sa lisibilité (ou de son imagibilité) pour ses habitants (parcours, limites, quartiers, nœuds et repères). Dans notre cas, le questionnement, qui interroge le déplacement en termes de valeur (contraint ou choisi), en termes de modalités (automobile, accompagné, en mode collectif ou doux), en termes de rapport géographique au territoire et en termes de rapport aux individus composant la famille, donne lieu à une autre construction, plus géo-schématique que cartographique. Au nombre d'une vingtaine, ces cartes de territoires parcourus se sont révélés très utiles pour mettre en évidence la distinction entre un territoire « péri-domestique », partagé par la famille et des territoires « hyper-métropolitains », différenciés selon les individus composant l'entité domestique. La mise en relation de ces esquisses fait apparaître, entre la villa d'écart du périurbain et divers pôles de l'aire urbaine, à la fois, le caractère répété, pour la totalité des familles, d'assez vastes territoires éclatés de déplacements et, en même temps, une grande variété des territoires parcourus et fréquentés.

Au-delà de ces caractéristiques morphologiques, la recherche fait apparaître, en terme de contenu socio-culturel, que, si les familles réalisent une installation « tranquille » dans les campagnes urbaines (patrimoine, famille, paysage…), qui ne saurait être dérangée par d'autres voisins, elle constitue en réalité une autarcie domestique parfaitement illusoire par les liens qui la rattachent à la ville (fils de téléphone et d'électricité aériens, voies terrestres et réseaux enfouis). Par ailleurs l'installation de toutes ces villas est marquée par un processus de ségrégation par le haut et par saturation ; trois strates d'installation ont ainsi pu être identifiées : les « héritiers » (1960), les « locaux » (1970) et les « colons » (1990). Enfin les familles des villas d'écart payent un lourd tribut à la dépendance automobile (une deuxième, voire une troisième voiture, à bout de souffle, contribuant à une pollution accrue) : du fait de la multiplication des déplacements et de leur place dévorante dans les emplois du temps, les modes de vie sont en tension accrue (illustrés par exemple par les conflits entre les obligations des parents et les désirs de leurs enfants). Au fil de l'expérience, le rêve pavillonnaire présente ainsi, pour ses acteurs directs, certains déboires mal anticipés et largement refoulés.

Pour conclure…

Ces deux recherches, à vingt ans d'écart, sur un même objet (le pavillon ou la villa), envisagé, pour le premier, comme lieu d'une nouvelle sédentarité (années 1980), et appréhendé, pour le second, comme centre des mobilités métropolitaines (années 2000), s'inscrivent très clairement dans la voie de la morphologie spatiale définie au début du XX^e siècle par Marcel Mauss. Maison et territoire ont été appréhendés comme lieux de pratiques qui ne se laissent ni réduire à des représentations aliénées (l'idéologie « antipavillonnaire » des années 1960), ni réduire à des aspirations entièrement comblées par l'expérience (la condescendance de l' « habitant a toujours raison » des années 1990).

L'approche qui implique de manière importante la représentation graphique des lieux, voire des mouvements dans l'espace (point de vue et méthode) permet le dévoilement des rapports physiques aux lieux. Elle n'est pas une méthode de plus ; elle est consubstantielle à la qualité des résultats obtenus… Inspirée par une (re)découverte/relecture de la « morphologie sociale » de Marcel Mauss, cette méthode est particulièrement appropriée à la lecture des « massifs d'habitat » ; avec le relevé ou l'esquisse de plan (plus tard approfondie par K. Lynch qui n'ignorait pas la sociologie française – il cite par exemple La Mémoire collective de Maurice Halbwachs – , ni l'anthropologie), on peut ainsi mieux rendre compte de l'épaisseur physique des lieux et des territoires, lieux et territoires engagés dans les pratiques et les représentations des habitants et dotés de valeurs que leur attribuent ces derniers à l'expérience de leur pratique et de leur perception.

On peut ainsi affirmer que pratiques et représentations ne sont pas seulement contenues dans les rapports sociaux (rapports aux proches comme aux institutionnels) ; elles existent par l'incorporation (l'incarnation) des lieux et territoires dans le vécu et l'expérience de l'habitant, et cette incorporation/incarnation ne se donne souvent au dévoilement que dans la restitution graphique des lieux, par les méthodes qui rendent compte par le dessin et d'autres modes de (re)présentation matérialisée, des « effets de [ces] lieux » (Bourdieu, 1990).

Si la sociologie peut aider à comprendre les conditions de la production architecturale et urbanistique, elle se doit aussi, dans les formations d'architecture et d'urbanisme, d'aider à comprendre et à penser en quoi les espaces produits sont la représentation qu'ont les concepteurs des pratiques et de la culture des destinataires, et en quoi les espaces appropriés peuvent correspondre aux usages de ceux qui les occupent lorsque leur « compétence » (H. Raymond) a trouvé une arène où s'exprimer.

[1] M. Mauss, « Essai sur les variations saisonnières des sociétés eskimos, Étude de morphologie sociale » (1^re éd. Année sociologique, t. IX, 1905), avec la collaboration de H. Beuchat, in Sociologie et anthropologie, Paris, PUF, 1950, p. 389-478 – téléchargeable au Canada : http://classiques.uqac.ca/classiques/mauss_marcel/socio_et_anthropo/7_essai_societes_eskimos/essai_societes_eskimos.html.

[2] B. Saladin d'Anglure, « Mauss et l'anthropologie des Inuit », in Sociologie et sociétés, vol 36, N° 2, automne 2004, p. 91-130 : http://www.journaldumauss.net/IMG/pdf/mauss_anthropo_inuit.pdf.

[3] M. Mauss, Essais de sociologie, Paris, Minuit, 1968, p. 42 sq.

[4] M. Mauss, loc. cit., p. 389.

[5] E. Durkheim, Les règles de la méthode sociologique, Paris, PUF, 1937, p. XXII : « On peut en effet, sans dénaturer le sens de cette expression, appeler institution, toutes les croyances et les modes de conduites institués par les collectivités ; la sociologie peut alors être définie : la science des institutions, de leur genèse et de leur fonctionnement ». On peut également mentionner, dans le même ordre d'idées, la polémique de Lévi-Strauss avec Gurvitch, dans les années 1950, qui faisait au premier le procès d'une « confusion regrettable » en ayant recours à la « morphologie sociale ». Voir C. Lévi-Strauss, Anthropologie structurale, Paris, Plon, 1958, p. 388.

[6] M. Mauss, Manuel ethnographie, Paris-Genève, Payot, 1947. Version de 1926 téléchargeable : http://classiques.uqac.ca/classiques/mauss_marcel/manuel_ethnographie/manuel_ethnographie.html).

[7] Un article résumant cette recherche a été publié dans les N° 27-28 « Architectures et cultures » des Cahiers de la Recherche Architecturale (Parenthèses : Marseille, 1992, p. 151-163) ; il peut être consulté sur http://daniel.pinson-urb.perso.sfr.fr/repgen/ArtCTMH-CRA1992.pdf.

[8] M. Verret, L'espace ouvrier, Paris, Armand Colin, 1979.

[9] H. et M.-G. Raymond & N. et A. Haumont, L'habitat pavillonnaire, Paris, CRU, 1966.

[10] D. Pinson, Du Logement pour tous aux maisons en tous genres, Paris, Recherches, Plan Construction, 1988.

[11] E. Morin, Commune en France, La métamorphose de Plodémet, Fayard, Paris, 1967.

[12] « De son vrai nom Philippe Cazaumayou, né en 1941 à Paris. Vit et travaille en Languedoc. Illustrateur régulier depuis 1970 des éditeurs français de science-fiction et fantastique… il a fourni de nombreuses histoires courtes à Pilote et Métal Hurlant (“Scènes de la vie de banlieue”, “Arkhê”, etc.) avant de s'attaquer à une grande saga, “Le Monde d'Arkadi”, qui s'est terminée chez Delcourt, en 9 tomes + 1. Cette série est une vaste aventure de SF à tendance écologique… » http://www.bd-sf-etc.com/64-philippe-caza.

[13] P. Bataille & D. Pinson, Maison radieuse, Rezé évolution et réhabilitation, Paris, Recherche-PCA, 1990.

[14] D. Pinson, Modèles d'habitat et contre-types domestiques au Maroc, Tours, Urbama, Fascicule de recherche N° 23, 1992.

[15] D. Pinson & S. Thomann, La maison en ses territoires, de la villa à la ville diffuse, Paris, L'Harmattan, 2002 – pour un résumé voir : http://daniel.pinson-urb.perso.sfr.fr/repgen/Maisonmonde.htm.

[16] F. Choay, « Le règne de l'urbain et la mort de la ville », in La ville, art et architecture en Europe 1870-1993, Paris, Éditions du Centre Pompidou, 1994.

[17] K. Lynch, L'image de la cité, 1^re éd. en anglais USA, 1960, Paris, Dunod, 1969.

Rhuthmos

Rhythm as Aesthetic Criterion (Part 1)

The Introduction of Eurhythmia into Architecture (Vitruvius – 1st Cent. BC)

From Eurhythmia to Concinnitas (Alberti – 1452)

Rhythm as Aesthetic Criterion (Part 2)

The Spread of Eurythmie and Eurythmique in French between 1600 and 2000

Eurythmie from Architecture to Sculpture and Painting (French Dictionaries – 1690-1832)

Eurythmie from Architecture, Sculpture and Painting, to Medicine, Music, and Dance (French Dictionaries – 1842-2008)

De l'ancrage aux voyages : retour sur la morphologie sociale de Marcel Mauss ou comment comprendre l'espace en le représentant

Le statut des dessins dans l'étude de Mauss sur les Inuits (1905)

Deux recherches mobilisant la représentation graphique de l'architecture et des territoires

Pour conclure…

The Introduction of Eurhythmia into Architecture (Vitruvius – 1^st Cent. BC)