Week 5/6 - Prehistoric Dwellings

           This week I am starting my previously proposed series on important phases of architectural history. I decided to start where I left off with my last post on trees and nature. Before architecture, people depended upon nature for shelter from the elements; whether it was a cave or a tree, people had to deal with whatever they were given. When nature was simply not sufficient for their needs, modifications were made. Although there are many early shelters to consider, I will focus on the “lean-to”.

 

As demonstrated in the sketch, the early lean-to utilizes pre-existing trees as its main support system. These trees later inspired specialized manipulation, shaping and positioning of pieces of wood to suit specific spatial requirements. This is an important step because people no longer had to depend on nature to provide them suitable trees on which to build a lean-to. Eventually foundations were added to prevent posts from washing away in the rain or sinking in instable ground.    

Above is an example of a basic lean-to made solely out of materials found in nature, meant as a survival shelter. Presumably, it is a duplicate to the first lean-to shelters made thousands of years ago. Now while the occasional Boy Scout or adventurer may be compelled to lodge in such a dwelling for a night or two, today we tend to live in more structured space. While modern homes seem so vastly different, the basic structure of a wood frame house has similar properties.

These images of a construction site focus on the two important properties of a shelter, the walls and the roof (yes the foundation is very important, but to make things easier I am ignoring that part). While modern construction mainly consists of walls, below the drywall the structure is supported by the studs. These studs follow the principals of the first trees and wooden posts used in lean-tos as they are vertical, load bearing, and made of wood. The first image above demonstrates the inner workings of a wall which will be later covered in drywall for aesthetic appeal. The roofs shown in the second image demonstrate the use of a slope to displace rain and snow to a more convenient location. Without the extra finishings, our homes are built for the same purpose as any other shelter.

Although we seem so detached from our prehistoric relatives, comparisons between modern and ancient lifestyles result in a realization we are striving to fulfill the same needs. As I sit at my desk, I am very thankful I have a window between me and the rain, a warm heater at my feet, and a fridge full of snacks.   

I will leave you with an excerpt from Khalil Gibran’s writings, The Prophet (1923) which ties into my next blog post about the establishment of the first cities. I think it gives great insight into why permanent urban centers were initially created and why they continue to grow in today’s society despite their inevitable unsustainability.

Build of your imaginings a bower in the wilderness ere you build a house within the city walls.
For even as you have home-comings in your twilight, so has the wanderer in you, the ever distant and alone.
Your house is your larger body.
It grows in the sun and sleeps in the stillness of the night; and it is not dreamless. Does not your house dream? And dreaming, leave the city for grove or hilltop?
Would that I could gather your houses into my hand, and like a sower scatter them in forest and meadow.
Would the valleys were your streets, and the green paths your alleys, that you might seek one another through vineyards, and come with the fragrance of the earth in your garments.
But these things are not yet to be.
In their fear your forefathers gathered you too near together. And that fear shall endure a little longer. A little longer shall your city walls separate your hearths from your fields.
And tell me, people of Orphalese, what have you in these houses? And what is it you guard with fastened doors?
Have you peace, the quiet urge that reveals your power?
Have you remembrances, the glimmering arches that span the summits of the mind?
Have you beauty, that leads the heart from things fashioned of wood and stone to the holy mountain?
Tell me, have you these in your houses?
Or have you only comfort, and the lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest, and becomes a host, and then a master?
Ay, and it becomes a tamer, and with hook and scourge makes puppets of your larger desires.
Though its hands are silken, its heart is of iron.
It lulls you to sleep only to stand by your bed and jeer at the dignity of the flesh.
It makes mock of your sound senses, and lays them in thistledown like fragile vessels.
Verily the lust for comfort murders the passion of the soul, and then walks grinning in the funeral.
But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.
Your house shall be not an anchor but a mast.
It shall not be a glistening film that covers a wound, but an eyelid that guards the eye.
You shall not fold your wings that you may pass through doors, nor bend your heads that they strike not against a ceiling, nor fear to breathe lest walls should crack and fall down.
You shall not dwell in tombs made by the dead for the living.
And though of magnificence and splendour, your house shall not hold your secret nor shelter your longing.
For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion of the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and the silences of night.