This is a dilemma that has always been discussed by lighting professionals, but without ever arriving at a clear conclusion. More than a dilemma it is in fact a case of different ways of interpreting reality. Rather than just a philosophical issue, it represents a tangible guide for those whose job is to define the features of an architectural space.
This edition of Incontroluce includes examples in which the matter seems obvious. The work of Dean Skira, with its lines of light and colours, unambiguously contributes to giving the constructed space its own specific image and dimension, just as Satoshi Uchihara’s work transforms architecture: “architecture is square and light makes it round”.
These two different approaches: creating a space or reinstating its shape, can also take on greater importance, extending beyond architecture to become a landscape. The hill on which Assisi rises at night also shows off the magnificent great basilica of St. Francis, which thanks to artificial light emphasises not only its physical presence, but above all its history and cultural significance in the vertical Umbrian landscape. In the same way, the late Baroque architecture of the Peterhof monumental complex stands out even more at night-time, casting a shadow over the great Italian-style garden opposite.
In a very different way, light turns the Lynetten incineration plant into a luminous sculpture, transforming the harbour landscape around it, meaning that there light takes on its own form irrespective of the object it interacts with. In other cases light adopts a tangible physical form because it is concrete, as in the Timber Wave, a sculpture which is the solidification of light vibrations projected beyond the facade from the entrance to the Victoria and Albert Museum.
I also believe that, in defining the architectural form of the iGuzzini premises in Barcelona, architect Josep Mias wanted to shape the light both through the intricate contrast between light and shadows of the structures and through the transparent features of the facade, creating an important landmark on the landscape too.
In contrast, in Recanati, light alters the shape of the Light Laboratory: closed and impermeable by day, it becomes open and transparent at night.
Perhaps the most obvious example of the dilemma which prompted this article is: does light have its own shape or does it give shape to other things?