On weaving the urban fabric
Where do we find the potential to craft spaces that resonate, comfort and care?
My fingertips graze the cold, galvanised steel railings of an underground station. Stepping up, a relentless tide of cars surges towards me, a four-lane machine that fragments and disperses into different directions. Towering monoliths in muted grey rise in rigidity - concrete, glass, straight lines. People retreating into their headphones are waiting impatiently at traffic lights to hurry across the junction where they vanish into the narrow corridors of the city. I’m holding my breath to avoid inhaling the thick fumes of a bus engine. Car horns, clacking traffic lights. Neatly enclosed within a tiny square, a small tree stands defiantly against it all.
What I perceive in this very moment is not accidental. It is a result of how urban environments have consciously and subconsciously been shaped.
Our cities are arenas of hegemonic paradigms that perpetuate efficiency, rationality, competition and individualism. Values such as sensibility or care have received little attention in their development. It is no wonder then that the city does not feel like a warm hug.
Where do we find the potential to craft spaces that resonate, comfort and care?
How is it possible to weave an urban fabric that understands how to interconnect all the different threads that make a city in a socially and ecologically just way? One that embraces emotional needs, one that feels good.
Within the work of the Bauhaus weaving workshop, a refuge of female creativity and thought within the male-dominated discourse of architecture and art, we find inspiration on how to approach a tapestry of urban life that is as sensitive as it is strong, as nurturing as it is enduring.
@ Jana Schade
Resilience through experimentation
While the supposedly progressive Bauhaus granted women the opportunity to study, its male leaders still feared that “female dilettantism” would diminish the Bauhaus significance.
The female students hence were largely confined to the workshops covering “cosy crafts”, notably the weaving workshop. Their expertise, like much in modern industry, was commodified in order to saturate the burgeoning textile sector, limiting their role as active contributors to the broader artistic or architectural discourse.
“For anyone who is making something that previously did not exist in this form is, at that point, of necessity an amateur. [...] And to explore the untried, he must be an adventurer. For he finds himself alone on new ground.”
- Anni Albers, 1965, p. 73
Yet, it is precisely within these boundaries that their extraordinary resilience emerges. Despite - or perhaps because of - these very limitations, they succeeded in developing an approach of collaborative learning, testing and researching that transcends the immediately apparent connection to textile art, evolving into a broader philosophy of resilience and perseverance.
The reflections of Anni Albers, turned the so-called female dilettantism feared by the Bauhaus male leadership into a driving force that embraces challenges. When navigating uncharted territories, the line between amateur and trained professional blurs. The philosophy of imagination and daring as described by Albers remains relevant within the fields of architecture and planning. Instead of holding on to predetermined goals or equating uncertainties with risk, we should embrace the unknown to explore future potentials. Knowledge is not only to be found within the range of trained professionals. Considering future challenges whose scope and nature, despite calculations or forecasts, can only be vaguely outlined, we should shift the focus from concrete solutions to adopting approaches that cultivate resilience.
A form of resilience that does not equal limitation with frustration but instead adapts and responds to various circumstances and questions. One that allows contextual factors to guide processes rather than forcing them into a predetermined mould. One that is not asserted through displays of power or hierarchical thinking but sharply contrasts the architectural praxis of the time by daring to embrace experimentation, uncertainty and collective learning.
@ Jana Schade
Tactile sensibility
“All progress, so it seems, is coupled to regression elsewhere” - Anni Albers, 1965, p.62
In recent decades, cities have undoubtedly witnessed numerous innovations and advancements; they have become smarter, safer, and processes are streamlined for efficiency. Yet, when we look at today’s cities through the lens of Anni Albers, it becomes evident that certain vital aspects have been neglected in this progress - particularly those that engage our tactile sensibility.
Modern cities, shaped by the mindset of industrial efficiency, often reduce their inhabitants to mere consumers. As Albers states, we encounter objects only in their final form, with little opportunity to shape them ourselves. We consume the city rather than create it. However, to build socially sustainable, resilient, and livable cities for all, we must view ourselves as active creators of our environments, empowering all members of urban society to claim and shape the spaces they inhabit.
In weaving, tactile experience and the act of giving form are intertwined; to weave is to feel and to create simultaneously. Similarly, we must first sense the city to truly shape it. The less we engage with our environment through our senses, the less we desire to participate in its shaping. To avoid alienation, we must reconnect with what surrounds us through touch and sensation.
The dominance of cold, uninviting materials, sharp edges or segregated spaces in our urban landscapes reveals a past disregard for sensibility in architecture and urban design. What if cities would appeal to our senses? What if they felt good? This approach invites us to rethink urban spaces, not just as functional, but as spaces that nourish our senses and foster deeper connections and caring. Spaces that not only are more liveable, but also encourage active participation.
“We must conclude, then, that it is the thoughtfulness and care and sensitivity in regard to form that makes a house turn into art, and that it is this degree of thoughtfulness, care and sensitivity that we should try to attain” - Anni Albers, 1965, p.72
Cities, like tapestries, are woven from countless different threads - some strong, some delicate, each essential. Revisiting the work of female Bauhaus weavers like Anni Albers encourages us to weave them with care, sensitivity, and a sense of exploration to craft cities that not only meet practical needs but also resonate with our senses, foster deep connections and a sense of belonging.
@ Jana Schade
Literature:
Albers, A. (1965). On weaving. New York: Wesleyan University Press.
Jana Schade is a dedicated architect and urban planner committed to creating sustainable and inclusive living spaces. With a special focus on non-commercial urban environments, she blends creative tools for participation with practical, action-based interventions. Jana enjoys merging theoretical concepts with hands-on approaches, aiming to design future-proof spaces through co-creation and collaborative processes.