Investigation into Liberty, Power and the Gothic Style

In his work “Space, Power and Knowledge,” Michel Foucault boldly declares, “I do not think that there is anything that is functionally- by its very nature- absolutely liberating.” However, in John Ruskin’s work “The Nature of Gothic,” he presents Gothic architecture as an essentially liberating form of architecture. The juxtaposing views of these great thinkers calls for investigation into the relationship of liberty and architecture, specifically in the Gothic form. The underlying idea in Ruskin’s piece is that Gothic architecture is a “free” form of architecture, meaning that is promotes the ideals of liberty and freedom. The Gothic style bestows power to the architect as opposed to the artistic style and the building itself. The architect has power over the work and what is being created. Along with shifting the balance of power from the style to the architect, the Gothic form also delivers power to all of humanity. This important shift of power is what makes the Gothic so unique, and ultimately so beautiful.
Gothic architecture fundamentally is a form of free artistic expression, encouraging creativity and enlivening the imagination of the architect. Ruskin speaks of this ability to create as almost a luxury, a severe contrast to the chains of conventionality (tradition, rationality, symmetry, and expectations) that enslaves other architects. His work reads, “If they wanted a window, they opened one; a room, they added one…,” and this essentially speaks to the power of the Gothic architect (Nature of Gothic). In more traditional styles, the power lies in the style itself and the architect must submit to a set of expectations demanded by the form.
Although there are, naturally, a set of characteristics that define the Gothic form, variation of these elements is encouraged and even expected. The Gothic style is typically characterized by architectural features such as pointed arches, tracery and flying buttresses. However, these core features permit a range of complexities and variations that allow the architect to manipulate and ultimately, create. As Ruskin explains, a pointed arch is such an undefined element in terms of proportions and style. The pointed arch supplies the architect with endless combinations of proportions, while the circular and rounded arch that is characteristic of earlier styles is always the same and does not permit variation. The Doge’s Palace in Venice excellently demonstrates this point. While gazing upon the façade of this Gothic beauty, one can easily see the variation of the pointed arch used, including wider and more curved arches alongside narrower and more peaked ones. Ruskin classifies tracery in the same way, in that tracery allows for many different designs so that the artist is virtually unlimited with his use of this element. The flying buttresses typically associated with the Gothic style also speak to the politics of Gothic architecture, for they spring off the building in an uncanny and untraditional way instead of being tightly wrapped up tight inside a perfect package. Instead of simply blending in or ornamenting the structure, like the pilasters of the Renaissance style, the flying buttresses exist solely for functional purposes and forge their way into our gaze without hesitation.
The Gothic style also admits its imperfections, and the artist has the power to make mistakes and not have to create a work that appears to be perfect. Much like the oppressive governments throughout world history who have demanded uniformity and perfection from their peoples, the rigid and unforgiving architectural styles that encourage these conventional ideals fail to, metaphorically, embrace the outsiders of society, the ugly and the unique. The Gothic form offers a haven for these individuals, with its grotesque gargoyles and unfinished appearance, and celebrates differences as beautiful, rather than a mistake. The Gothic form sees exquisiteness in the unconventional. For example, the Gothic jewel of the Ca’ D’Oro that rests proudly along the Grand Canal in Venice, displays a set of pointed windows in the courtyard with a balcony extending along the bottom. However, the balcony unexpectedly falls short of meeting the last window in the set of four. Immediately, this powerful artistic decision appears as a flaw; nevertheless, the nature of the Gothic style speaks to this imperfection. Ruskin would adore the savageness of this defect, as he characterizes savageness as the most essential and important characteristic of the Gothic form (Nature of Gothic). As for the unfinished nature of Gothic architecture, the Chiesa di San Pietro Martire on Murano, a small island in the Venetian Lagoon, has a façade that opposes the perfected beauty of classical architecture and could be argued to be too raw and imperfect for the exterior of a church. However, the unfinished nature only speaks to the importance of savageness in the Gothic style.
The Gothic style bestows power upon the artist, and is a “free” form of architecture that provides for endless possibilities and delights the imagination. Ruskin even compares the imperfection of the Gothic style to the deficiency of the human condition. He says, “Nothing that lives is, or can be, rigidity perfect; part of it is decay, part nascent” (Nature of Gothic). Humanity is victim to the decay and imperfect nature of life much like the Gothic form. Therefore, the Gothic style is inherently human. The perfectly carved and symmetrically aligned architecture of the classical style seems almost divine and too perfect to be associated with men, but rather with heaven. Therefore, we can conclude that the Gothic style bestows power to not only the architect, but also to humanity. It is the architecture of the people. Although one could argue that the verticality and massive ribbed vaulting of Gothic churches can make an individual feel dwarfed in comparison to the divine, I would argue that the verticality only speaks to the power of the architect to create such an incredible feat.

The Biennale

On a brisk yet beautiful Friday morning, my classmates and I ventured to La Biennale di Venezia for a contemporary art experience like I’ve never experienced before. Being an art history minor back at Purdue, I’ve taken many art classes where we’ve studied modern art and focused on the big names such as Picasso, Derain and Kandinsky. However, I have not had many opportunities to view the artwork of modern day contemporary artists, and especially never in the setting like the Biennale. With its beautiful, towering pavilions, the Biennale was somewhere I could have spent all day wandering and exploring every niche. Our guide took us to several exhibitions, including the United States of America national pavilion, where I was struck by the intensity and curiosity of contemporary art.

My favorite exhibition we visited was entitled “The Collectors”, the first ever collaboration of two national pavilions to create a single exhibition. The Danish and Nordic countries introduced us to Family A and Mister B through their barren homes littered with the mysterious remnants of their lives, loose ends dripping with loneliness and sorrow. Two broken homes, one haunted with pride and lust and the other shrouded in a mysterious layer of jaded love and family drama. This exhibition presented art in a new way- it allowed objects to tell the story, to hint to a puzzle that it was up to viewers to piece together. The idea that you can take a house, that alone speaks volumes about the characters that inhabit it by its basic architectural nature, and fill it with objects that are in no way of any artistic importance (books, condoms, a typewriter, a selection of DVD’s, a toilet and sink, pots and pans, a pair of keys thrown carelessly on the table) and it become a form of art is truly fascinating to me and speaks to what contemporary art is in general- thinking outside of the box. I would have never imagined of doing such a thing, and I’m sure many would not understand how it could be art until witnessing it with their own eyes. The entire showpiece is like the stage after a theater performance- the set and objects alone can tell you the idea of the play and the actions that recently occurred there. I saw the houses like a stage, and I found myself wanting to rewind and see the performance. I walked with other visitors into the homes of others while the true inhabitants were nowhere to be found.

Our guide explained to us the meaning behind the exhibition, as I previously mentioned, which was to explore the idea of expressing oneself through objects and investigating how everyday objects seem to speak to us. After viewing the exhibit, I began to think about how objects are the storytellers of our society. As I look around my temporary dorm room here on San Servolo island, I see my pile of DVD’s on my dresser that speak to my personality and tastes. My Italian book sitting on my bed tells of my recent endeavor to learn the Italian language. My stack of stationary with letters to loved ones back home at first glance show my love for family and friends and my value on keeping in touch with those far away. We have all had experiences when we walk into others apartments or houses to be unsurprised with the personality of the place. Typically, one’s home speaks to who they are as an individual. My eclectic friend Kendra lives in a purple paradise sparkling with bold colored polka dots, stuffed giraffes, and funky flowered pillows. My other friend Elyse has always reflected the “classic beauty” vibe and her room is vibrant with light pastels, and impressive art wall and Audrey Hepburn calendar, and a jewelry box full of lockets and brooches to decorate her simple yet elegant cardigans and sweaters.

Walking through the empty rooms of Family A and Mister B, I got to know them without ever meeting them. These exhibits reminded me of why I love contemporary art, that you can take such a simple idea and make such a powerful statement. Sometimes modern art can seem radical, disturbing or sometimes even useless, and void of the classical ideals and extravagant beauty that dominated classical artwork. However, many times if you look deep enough and give it a chance, modern art can surprise you. I saw the house of Mister B, with a man facedown in a pool outside, and thought “What is going on here?” But after going inside and exploring the home of this fictional individual, I came out with a smile and new way of looking at things (no pun intended).

Advertising the present. Overshadowing the past. Concealing the future.

Having been in Venice for one week now, I’ve had some time to soak in the general aura of the city. What has surprised me greatly, beginning with my initial stroll off the vaporetti into the city of Venice, was the massive advertisements that adorn the construction sites throughout the city. The large Guess advertisement, draping proudly in the Piazza San Marco, immediately caught my eye as I emerged from the boat. As I mentioned in my earlier blogs, I incorrectly assumed Venice to be a quiet, simple city as opposed to the bustling of tourists and dramatic grandeur that compose the city. I remain amazed at the modernity that overruns this historical city, which truly does feel like slice of the past with a “Disneyworld-like” atmosphere slapped on top of it. As I continue to view more of these advertisements, I consider the implications of these reminders of modernity in the ancient city of Venice.

The first thing I notice while I look at these advertisements is that they lure the eye from the beauty of the historical buildings that surround it to the ideal forms of beauty of the modern age that take form through the striking models on the ad’s. Beautiful models decorate beautiful buildings in this city- a harsh juxtaposition of the past and present. As we discussed today in lecture, the old and new come together in this city in a jarring and shocking way, like each entity is refusing to adapt to the presence of the other. The advertisements combine with the surrounding scenery, including ancient cathedrals and decaying pieces of the past, to reflect the differences of the past and present and the perception of beauty in each time. In my critical reflection, I considered that the beauty of the past, especially in cities such as Venice, focused mainly on art and architecture, while the beauty of our modern society, as so many magazines and our celebrity culture have demonstrated, is projected through the beauty of the individual. The advertisements depict beautiful models and nothing more- the models are truly selling the product. In a way, the models are like the art of our modern culture.

Another interesting aspect of the implementation of advertisements to cover construction projects in Venice is that, in a way, it seems that the city is ashamed of their progress, allowing advertisers to “cover up” the construction with our contemporary images of beauty. Is Venice, a city that is known to be a truly historical city, a slice of antiquity, ashamed of their progress being that it is supposed to be a place stuck in the past? Does our culture accept these contemporary relics to mask reality and allow us to remain ignorant that even an antique city must advance with the modernity of today? I find myself critiquing our modern culture, in that we expect the impossible out of Venice. Without progress, without keeping up with the times and developing, the city would cease to be. However, we enjoy being naïve and ignorant to this fact, and we accept the advertisements, gaze upon the attractive models, and enjoy the images before our eyes that truly are a foreign form of art for this timeless city.

Venice Realized: Campo dei Miracoli

While wandering through the meandering streets of Venice in search of a campo to use for my first assignment, I considered the characteristics that I wanted in my campo. I was extremely interested in finding a campo that included a church, being that I always find churches and their architectural features fascinating. I also wanted a unique campo that was not like the large bustling campos that I had already seen scattered throughout the city. I was looking for something quiet, serene, and most of all, different. With the wind taking my hand, I let myself drift in search of my ideal campo. I began on the east side of the city and ended up near the Campo Santa Maria Formosa, a campo which I was already quite familiar with after visiting the Felluga-Allen residence earlier in the week. A few calles over, I found a small campo dominated by a beautiful and towering church.

The campo, called Campo dei Miracoli, twists and turns around the church, allowing one to see more than just a single view of the magnificent building. The church takes up most of the campo while the rest of the buildings, which are mostly residential, seem dwarfed in the magnificence of the Renaissance cathedral. The campo itself is unique- spotted with the simplicity of modest Venetian residences juxtaposing the complexity of the elaborate church. After doing some research on the church, I learned that it is called the Santa Maria dei Miracoli and it houses an icon of the Virgin Mary called I Miracoli, or “The Miraculous.” Gazing up at the church, one of the first things I notice is that it is covered with marble, giving the church a shimmering and mesmerizing glow. The church speaks of the Renaissance period, geometrical and orderly, adorned with semicircular arches and pediments, structured pilasters and arcaded windows, and a hemispherical dome. The church as a whole speaks volumes of the Renaissance period and is undeniably beautiful; however looking more closely at the tiny details that all together combine to create this spectacular architectural achievement, I am reminded of how it is truly in the details that the beauty of a piece lies.








Oculus on Santa Maria dei Miracoli












Ionic pilaster complete with volutes on Santa Maria dei Miracoli







Lunette on church with tondo









Ogee arched window (Gothic architectural element) on Venetian residence








Oculus and string course on facade of Santa Maria dei Miracoli facing the main sqaure








Bay and ornamented spandrels between arches on upper storey of church








Blind arcade and arcade windows on upper storey of church on facade facing canal











Aedicule and lintel on Venetian residence doorway







Balustrade on balcony of residence overlooking campo and canal














Composite pilasters on facade of church









Dome and oculus on the Renaissance masterpiece, the Santa Maria dei Miracoli













Corinthian pilaster on church facade opposite of canal












Aedicule with segmental pediment and entablature (frieze, cornice and architrave)










Stringcourses on facade of church









Stilted arched window on residence opposite canal













Rio, or Venetian canal, aside the Campo dei Miracoli





In a city such as Venice, where one’s senses are easily over-indulged by the beautiful melting of city and water, pastel colors glinting off of Venetian residences, and lofty masterpieces such as the Basilica di San Marco, it is easy to soak in the excess without spending time worrying about the minute details that compose the beauty around you. However, experiencing the city in details allows one to deeper appreciate and further understand the history and language of the city. For example, the language of the Santa Maria dei Miracoli speaks to the religiosity of the Italian people, and the faith and beliefs of Catholicism as a whole. Through my study of the architectural features of the church, I now better understand the characteristics of Venetian Renaissance architecture and the religious beliefs of the Catholic faith through the symbolic architectural elements that decorate the church. As a reference, it is simple to see the tondi decorating the pediments of the church; however one must look more carefully to appreciate the beauty carved into the stringcourses on the façade. The Venetian residences that complete this campo are typically Venetian at first glance- with their flowerboxes decorating their quaint balconies and colorful pastel shades; however after further inspection, I discovered the Gothic ogee arched windows hidden between the predominately geometric rectangular and squared ones.

After completing this assignment, I long to experience all of Venice in this detailed-centered way, and I am excited for the opportunity to indulge this luxury throughout the upcoming months.

First Impressions

Arriving in Venice, I was overwhelmed by the massive quantities of people crowding the tiny streets of this ancient city. I imagined Venice as a quiet place, but so far it seems to be a lively, bustling city full sound. Venice also seems to be a mysterious place, with overcrowded alleys leading into silent and completely deserted streets. The city is slightly like a Disneyworld and a museum all rolled into one. The beauty of the architecture is undeniable and it is still possible to feel the history permeating out of the city, however the numerous shops selling masks, gelato and Venice tee shirts and key chains remind me of a theme park, where you can simply buy a piece of merchandise with the logo stamped on it and feel like you’ve walked away with a piece of the place. However, I know that after months of living in this city, I will take more away from it than the souvenirs collected. I will understand the city behind the tourism and the true nature of the city.

It still feels weird not to see or hear any cars, and I absolutely love using boats to get everywhere. I’ve always enjoyed being on the water, and using it (along with my feet) as my main modes of transportation should be a new and exciting experience. The city is the perfect one for walking, with your feet leading you to discover a new and unfamilar street one after another. Exploring the city with the rest of my classmates today, I loved stumbling upon new alleys and discovering the inner depths of the city. There seems to be so much to see in Venice, and I am excited about (hopefully) knowing the city fairly well by the time I leave in December. After being in Venice for a day, I have gotten a superficial look at the city and I am excited to dive in and discover what the city is all about.

Venice Imagined

My whole life I’ve dreamt of travel. Now, as a senior year in college who has never traveled outside the American borders, the opportunity has come for me to fulfill my lifelong aspiration. Preparing for my excursion to the enchanting city of Venice, I am so thankful that I have the chance to travel while I am young. With the world as my oyster, I am ready to set off and engulf as much as it as I possibly can. I am excited to soak in the Italian culture and investigate both the sun and shadows of mystical Venice.

Having grown up with an Italian best friend, I already have many ideas engrained in me of what the Italian culture is like. The intense religiosity of the people, the deep ties to family, and appreciation for food, music and beauty in the simple things are only several of my perceptions of the Italian culture. Venice, on the other hand, is a foreign land that I have a hazy perception of. I currently picture Venice as a city of historical splendor and domestic simplicity that together form a lifestyle that mixes the old and new, complex and simple, and myth and science. I am eager to stroll the winding streets of the city, shop at the bustling markets and quaint shops, and watch the sunset while winding down the day at a Venetian café. This magical place that I am about to call my home is one that seems so drastically different than the home I know now, and I am ready to embrace the change and learn about another way of life. I hope to come out of this experience a changed individual, whose eyes have been opened to other cultures and with many memorable experiences, excellent photographs, and great stories to tell my friends and family when I return home.