Words as Markers of the Boundaries and Identity of Emerging Fields of Knowledge: the case for a Dictionary of Advanced Drawing

Can the principles and methodology used to write a Dictionary of Advanced Drawing provide a model that is applicable to other Emerging Technologies?

Drawing is possibly the simplest and most economical means of visual expression. Even if it consists of a single line, a drawing is a conscious economic decision and a voluntary act, whether constructive—as the visible traces of a manual gesture—or conceptual, as an act of interpretation and definition of reality, through the application of schema. As the latter, drawing is also a construction of meaning, irrespectively of the medium used or the nature of the reality observed and independently, also, of whether the image is drawn on a given surface or space using our body or some other form of line producing instrument, or whether it is the result of the deployment or identification of arrangements of objects in space. It is an act that develops over time—even in the briefest of instants—and therefore it is also a process. As such, it involves a series of graphic and formal events and combinations of events that has a beginning and an end and involves the notion of emergence.

As visual information drawn images include their past and present, their corporeity, their aesthetics and the context of their production, etc. As a medium, drawing has no inherent content only reflected content therefore such qualities and knowledge are reflected but not contained by drawings. In a drawn image, the relationship between form and content has more to do with the itinerary of the gaze than with any material or inherent properties of the drawing as an object. Consequently, formal and material landmarks are less meaningful individually, as events on the surface of a drawing, than they are as landmarks in the sense-making itinerary of our gaze over it. The subjective distance there is between observed reality and its subjective representation provides and undefined and definable space that allow viewers to speculate, and through their speculation engage their imagination, desire and emotions. As a result, in mapping the topography of the visible, notions of trajectory, movement, sequence, rhythm and finally, narrative, tend to prevail over any intrinsic or material aspects in the process of defining our understanding of the reality we are observing as drawing. In making sense of a drawn image, for example, the inevitable distance of subjectivity there is between observed or imagined reality and its attempted representation provides the gaps and flexibility that allow viewers to speculate, and through this speculation engage their imagination, desire and emotions.

Drawing visually and materially holds together elements of form and content that our mind combines and links through a process of closure by which our mind conceives a sense of subjective unity and identity in the observed, linking the visual and the material, connecting our mental image with our attempts at representing that image. At the same time it opens up to new possible interpretations and knowledge. Images emerge because even though our general perception is that the drawing as a physical object is still, the activity of our constant mapping of its surface fuels an ongoing process of combination and re-combination through which we constantly build on and perfect our mental images. We change and our circumstances also change so that, like television images, our understanding of who we are and what we see is in a constant flux, always emerging and always new. In this context, speculation, curiosity and discussion lead us on in our search for understanding and knowledge but, what if the nature of the space depicted, the topography of the drawing is such that there are no precise or recognizable landmarks, at least none that we can name and therefore none that we can discuss or link into a coherent narrative? What if a drawing in the broad sense proposed here provides such few formal landmarks or their status is so ambiguous and changing that our perception of it is that it exists as a mist or rhizome suspended in a moment between being and nothingness, in a changing and mobile state in which no mapping or definition is possible? If our perception of identity in visual form is frustrated by our inability to place what we are gazing at in any category or framework of reference, our assessment and more to the point here, our discussion of it is suspended, but for how long?

Sanity demands that human beings eventually make sense of the reality that surrounds them, the question of how long can we experience something without attempting to understand it is relevant. Images become part of our lives simply because we look at them and because of this, we must understand, categorize, classify, use and forget them. Not because of some inherent quality of them, but because of how possible content defines our relationship with them. It is this driving need to know, a need that goes beyond mere curiosity that leads us to map the surface of drawings and also to try and find the words to describe what we see. This human need, which in the case of the dictionary also takes on a political dimension, is also the eminently practical reason for the emergence of dictionaries, encyclopedias and all other methods to classify and arrange information. When ambiguity is used as a formal device in the work of the artist, our mind will seek out form and sequence in a statistical effort to sift through the un-nameable and the un-definable, identifying coincidences, differences and similarities, applying categorizing parameters through which to make sense of the works, individually and as a coherent, evolving body. Once we have done this, we will have found the words to describe and explain what we see and, in doing so, we will develop and push the boundaries of drawing as an independent medium and field of knowledge.

Can this process and the format of the dictionary be used as a model to identify and systematize the terminology of emerging technologies or do technologies acquire the condition of emergence once their specific terminology has acquired a certain coherence and critical mass of concepts, categories and objectives? Does the format of the dictionary as it has existed until today provide the pivotal tool needed to coordinate the process of understanding and discussion of a visual language such as drawing, particularly in a multilingual, global context characterized by interdisciplinary crossovers and mobility?

As a visual language, drawing appears to be everywhere, reflecting all, expressing all, absorbing all content and subject matter. Everything that is man-made at one point involves some form of drawing. As a result, drawing is constantly rising above and sinking below the horizon of our perception, emerging, mutating and morphing from one visual role or material form to another. In spite of its ubiquity, however, drawing is difficult to discuss as an independent medium. This chameleon-like nature of drawing and the potential formal and material consequences of terminological exchanges and meetings between disciplines in connection with the development of drawing as a medium raise questions about its identity in connection with the development and discussion of a recognizable disciplinary profile.

When does a doodle or a quick line sketch become architecture or engineering? Or, put another way, when does a linear structure achieve the formal stability and content specificity that makes the lines recognizable as one or the other? When does a sketch as a visual ‘first thought’ become the expression of a specific field of knowledge and what is the nature of that visual information before it achieves that specificity? What do we call it before it becomes a recognizable something? Also, if the terminology used defines the space of discussion of any field, what words should we use to discuss the myriad forms of drawing today? When does an emerging technology or a field of knowledge such as drawing acquire its identity as a coherent field or system, with its own dynamics of development and objectives? What name would we give to a downward gesture of the arm, for example, dragging a piece of charcoal along the surface of a piece of paper? Outside the fields of dance, performance or theatre, does an analysis and explanation of the bodily gestures that lead to visible form through drawing play any role in the understanding of that form? Could concepts and terminology drawn, for example, from the fields of choreography and dance such as the Laban notation system be used to render explainable and communicable as visual information the bodily movements of the artist as he draws or the expressions of movement that such bodily movements create? Can this information be incorporated into a discussion and reading of the work as drawing? Should it? Could such terminology or other similar terms from different fields provide a basic framework of vocabulary through which to encode and discuss the act of drawing as a conventional and formally meaningful gesture? Could the terms “pathways” and “trace forms” , for example, which have a similar meaning in the Laban notation system and in architecture and urbanism, be used to explain recurring patterns of movement or the coherent and deliberate displacement of objects as drawing? Similarly, can the definition of ‘sketch’ provided by Tom Porter et al for example, provide a convention-free analogy to define as drawing recurrent and identifiable patterns of form that can be linked to the mental associations and images of their maker or observer, independently of any medium or material?

If our discussion of drawing should involve terms from say, the field of dance and choreography, we would be more likely to consider or refer to the dimensions of movement, rhythm, performance, bodily expression, gestures, etc. Also, such terminology would most likely favor a discussion of the making of the drawing rather than about the drawing as an object or image. Words from the field of architecture, on the other hand would emphasize aspects such as space, circulation, direction, habitation, etc. in an idea of drawing as space in a broad sense. Finally, the terminology of theatre might facilitate a discussion of drawing, or the experience of a drawing in terms of its expressiveness, using the analogy of the event, as characterized, for example by the interaction of similarly expressive others from other fields.

In a mirror there is no inherent content: you do not see things, only the reflection (in a broad sense) of things. Similarly, as a mirror-surface, drawing reflects everything. At the same time, like a mirror, it contains nothing. The apparent ease with which terminology from other fields can be used to discuss the medium of drawing derives from the fact that the medium of drawing has no inherent content, only reflected content reflected from reality, content that is seen or read into the drawn images by each individual viewer according to his/her personal experience. This is the invisibility of drawing and the reason for the difficulty in discussing drawing as an independent medium: it is an empty vessel with an almost perfect reflecting surface, unfettered by its material condition. Precisely because, of this, however, the medium of drawing provides both an interface and an empty, customizable matrix to be filled by the discussion of an almost infinite range of reflected subject matter. Any discussion of the medium that does not take into consideration this fact (that drawing must be examined as form and not as content for it to develop as a medium) will inevitably blend and bleed into the turf of another discipline, which is the reason why there are more theoretical discussions of the aspect of drawing in the work of an artist than of the medium itself. A dictionary of drawing terms, therefore, must provide a similarly unobtrusive structure that captures terminology flowing freely in the environment, linking it and circulating it through this structure with the least possible formal and material friction and through a process of circulation and cross-referencing define the shape and boundaries of the field of drawing, much like the vessel gives form to the liquid it contains.

Any reference to a formal or material condition of drawing is actually a superficial blemish that disturbs and diverts its reflectivity, even in the course of its discussion. The perfect expression of this reflectivity is the mental image of the artist or the viewer, before its attempted representation, whether by lines or by words. Consequently, the drawing is in the mind and not on the paper. Its visibility and also its identity comes from a mapping of the itinerary of our subjective gaze over physical or conceptual form and the recording and narration of this itinerary in some medium or our memory. Likewise, interdisciplinary interactions will define the boundaries of new spaces of discussion through the identification and detailed description of a multi-dimensional, socially relevant, flexible and flowing structural understanding of form or, as Marcel Mauss puts it, a zone of relative identity that I call here ‘advanced drawing’.

Recent views of reality as expressive and mobile systems have expanded the formal and technological possibilities of fields such as architecture and design, where drawing is preeminent. In the introduction to the Metapolis Dictionary of Advanced Architecture, for example, Manuel Gausa identifies a new will in architecture: "a will based on a profound change in gazes, criteria, instruments, concepts and attitudes that brings together shared restless-mindedness and common objectives produced, beyond context, in diverse cultural spaces.” Expressed in the field of architecture, such views respond to a shared understanding of today’s complex reality. Even considering such progress however, limitations in terminology continue to define the direction taken by the main avenues of thought and discussion, affecting the theoretical and practical development of drawing. In this context, fine art drawing is at a particular disadvantage with respect to conventional forms of drawing such as technical drawing, which respond to technical and technological determinants and machinic views of reality such as David Gelernter's Mirror World. The new problems that arise in such other fields beget new forms of drawing and also drawing conventions and techniques that serve to illustrate and resolve such new problems. As a result, they push and redefine the theoretical and practical boundaries of the medium.

New developments in drawing are twice as likely to occur in Architecture or Engineering, for example, than in the fine arts. Why is this? At first glance one might say this is because architecture and engineering are linked to industry and consequently, that money power and politics are involved at a scale that is not conceivable in the fine arts. One might argue, also, that independently of their individual artistic or aesthetic merit, such vast numbers of drawings are produced every year in architecture, for example, that it is safe to assume that any technical development and theoretical discussion of the medium is more likely to occur in that field than in the fine arts where the very status of drawing is uncertain due to the widespread presence of mixed media and digital work. Time-saving imaging technologies explain the huge numbers of drawings produced in the course of the design and construction of, for example, a project for a building in China by Zaha Hadid or Norman Foster’s landmark Bank of China project in Hong Kong, not to mention recent computer animation and cinematography. But, more to the point here, rather than quantity or the massive production of drawn images today, computer generated or otherwise, such fields have a qualitative and technical impact on the development of drawing derived of the extensive interdisciplinary discussion and interaction there is in order to resolve new problems in connection with such building projects or technological applications.

This recurring contact between fields of knowledge produces hybrid sediments, the terminology that comprises the conceptual platform of identity and discussion of emerging technologies. Other times, a common terminological platform is adopted after the fact by the agreement of a sufficient number of practitioners. In June of 2000, for example, in the context of MET 2.0: Trailer de ideas para una Arquitectura Avanzada a group of fifty teams of Spanish architects met in Barcelona precisely to formulate a joint position with respect to the future of the habitat, the city and the environment. The initial outcome of this gathering was a publication in a format whose stated objective was to permit “crossing, overlapping and associating projects, themes and potentials beyond individual conceptions and hermetic compartments.” An international edition, in dictionary format, followed this initial document-manifesto, expanding these objectives to a global dimension. In a sense, the format adopted by the makers of the Metapolis Dictionary is a more or less successful attempt to embody and reflect in a physical format the characteristics of Gelernter's mirror image. I say more or less successful because although it points at the multiplicity of aspects it still retains the linear structure of the alphabet as the means to circulate through its pages.

In the United States, focusing on usage rather than on officially accepted definitions of terms, Tom Porter, a practicing architect and college professor, together with a group of 23 collaborators from diverse academic backgrounds and some of the main architectural firms in the world produced Archispeak , a list of terms commonly used in the field of Architecture. With a different structure and ideological underpinnings, these are two examples of collaborations within the field of Architecture that aim to overcome the linguistic issues involved in the general problem of “translating architectural design concepts into spoken and written commentary.” In the arts, there has been no such collective experience, perhaps because the idea of unique individual authorship still prevails and also because artists’ collectives and partnerships are still rare enough to be considered the exception rather than the rule. Also, in the arts, issues of terminology and communication have dealt creatively with the impossibility of defining certain things, with the unspeakable and the un-nameable as subject matter, using images as substitute for words in the definition of terms. This is the case of, for example, Roni Horn’s Dictionary of Water , a book of photographs of the surface of the River Thames taken under different conditions of weather, tide and light.

A different example is Sam Winston’s A Dictionary Story in which he deals with what he calls ‘reading environments’ or the spaces that are created when people become ‘lost’ inside a book. In his dictionary, terminology is endowed with a personality, and he envisions encounters between “anger” and “apathy”, between “law” and “trouble,” with the different terms taking on their own personality. There are, also, many traditional dictionaries of the arts in general. Most of them have the familiar structure of an alphabetically ordered list of terms. Others go a bit beyond, like the dictionary written by Noah Webster, which includes an explanation of the principles based on which languages are formed. In any case, the format of the dictionary has historically provided the basic scaffolding through which it is possible to order and arrange flows of information to suit multiple purposes.

Computer generated or otherwise, technical drawings in general and architectural and design drawings in particular provide the means to convey specific professional knowledge and information and are therefore highly conventional. In such drawings, subjective readings are limited and governed by the conventions of the field and as a result they provide broad areas for objective discussion and development. If the drawings are computer generated, moreover, the software used further determines their formal and development possibilities. Even the simplest drawing software requires some knowledge of imaging terminology and the instructions for the user to operate it effectively. As a result, graphic functions, many of which are identified on the interface through icons rather than words, have already been defined in some handbook, help-desk function, troubleshooting website, etc. and consequently, to a certain extent they are in the process of being assimilated by an ever-growing community of computer users. The fact that these computer instructions are many times abstract concepts offers a possible clue as to the characteristics of the kind of term that is required to define drawing today: abstract, non-abrasive concepts defined in visually exciting terms. Take, for example, two definitions from Archispeak. The term sketch is defined in connection with the notion of animate as “lines that resulting from the immediacy or directness of thought and purpose appear to trace the essential dynamics of an idea.” (Archispeak, page 6A) No reference is made to any material or to any physical or symbolic form or content, focusing instead on establishing a clear and direct link between the image and the thoughts and purpose of the maker, whatever these may be. The term axis, on the other hand, is defined as “…the invisible principle that connects and unifies mind and matter. When functioning as a pathway, the axis is associated with the ceremonial, the processional, formality and power.” (Archispeak, page11A). Again, the emphasis is on an invisible geometry and the establishment of spatial hierarchies, directions and sense of order rather than focusing on any historical, material or thematic aspect or function. These terms, moreover, have the sufficient ductility to provide a flexible bridge between the fields of architecture (origin of the term) and the field of fine arts drawing, for example.

As I said before, unlike free hand and traditional fine arts drawing, the vocabulary that serves to discuss the formal development of computer-generated and other similarly drawings is already in place before the drawings have been made. As a result, upon creating a drawing with the computer you not only define form, you also provide the vocabulary to explain the operations involved in its genesis and development. It appears then, that the fact that they produce both form and the terminology to explain form at the same time gives computer-generated drawings the upper hand with respect to traditional drawing, in the field of theory at least. Such conventional forms of drawing have, in a sense, control over the discourse of (computer generated) form as well (because they necessarily impose certain concepts and meanings) as a very specific identity with clear boundaries, which allows them to interact and to form alliances with other disciplines on an equal footing and also to define new forms and new disciplines.

On 15 April 1755, Samuel Johnson published his giant Dictionary of the English Language, mapping the contours of the English language in over 42,000 terms. At the time France and Italy already had dictionaries of their own, and it became a political issue to rival them. Like the Encyclopedia of the Frenchmen Diderot and D'Alembert, or Delacroix's Dictionnaire, both of which reflected the ideals of Enlightenment, in the field of the arts, Johnson's dictionary became a war machine and an instrument of cultural imperialism and "a defining moment in the realization of what was in the eighteenth century a brand new concept, namely Britishness." Similarly, today, the main reason why a Dictionary of Advanced Drawing is necessary: to define the boundaries and identity of the field of drawing so that it may develop and interact with other fields whilst retaining its own identity and purpose.

Focusing on the conditions that determine the emergence of identity in drawing as an object of discussion, this essay aims to examine how a systematic core of terms and concepts might provide a critical mass of terminology to define the boundaries and identity of drawing as a reflecting surface and as an emerging technology, allowing for inter-disciplinary discussions. Also, it aims to identify how and from what fields such terminology is more likely to be obtained.

In connection with these two issues, I will assess the suitability or otherwise of the format of dictionary as common ground for a discussion and development of knowledge that permits “crossing overlapping and associating projects, themes and potentials [in the field of drawing] beyond individual conceptions and hermetic compartments” examining the Metapolis Dictionary of Advanced Architecture, published in 2002 and other dictionaries from various fields and authors. The expected outcome is, first of all, an identification of the basic principles applicable to the resolution of the two key issues identified here in connection with the problem defined. These are, first of all the need to identify specific criteria applicable to the use of terminology from other fields and sources, identifying such sources and secondly, how to organize that terminology into a coherent and functional structure (format) that best reflects and responds to a fluid reality characterized by the rhizome-like interaction of countless, never-ending flows of information . Based on the example of the medium of drawing, the expected outcome of this investigation is to define a methodology to identify and temporarily organize terminology drawn from flows of terminology drawn from different sources that is applicable to the identification and development of other emerging technologies.