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Book review: Queer Spaces
Book review of "Queer Spaces: An Atlas of LGBTQIA+ Places and Stories" (RIBA, 2022).

Queer Spaces, edited by Adam Nathaniel Furman and Joshua Mardel, is a rich and powerful kaleidoscope of “queer world-making”.1 It is a daring collection of insightful short texts on spaces of sociality, cruising, but also refuge, activism, resistance and belonging. It also looks at spatial design, interior occupation and decoration of spaces from queer communities globally. Most importantly, through the collection of different voices the book encapsulates the main features of queer architecture. "The ‘queer’ in ‘queer architecture’ is not simply an adjective; it is also a verb that performs.”2

Queer architecture transcends boundaries, including those enforced by the built environment, and materializes as a condition of the un-built that has the potential to alter space.

The notion of performatives brought forward by Judith Butler3 highlights the intangible and performative dimension of queer architecture that contributes to the definition of un-built that KoozArch is currently exploring. More than space itself, it is the use and “reappropriation of historically heteronormative spaces”4 through embodied actions, the performance of gender, interpersonal relationships and the cultivation of personal, sexual identities that make a space queer. Queer architecture transcends boundaries, including those enforced by the built environment, and materializes as a condition of the un-built that has the potential to alter space. This book is, therefore, both a reflexive journey through the history of queer history and memory, but also a springboard for the design of new spaces.

The book’s value lies not only in the richness of its content, but also in bringing together a series of clever architectural historians and researchers on queer spaces and history like Regner Ramos, Ben Campkin, Ivan L. Munuera, Isola Tong, Elizabeth Darling, to name a few. They explore, from various and unique perspectives, the value and nature of queer architecture. Whilst some uncovered the genealogy of queer spaces, others brought to the fore a series of fundamental questions related to queer architectural history and spatial practices that is worthwhile underlining.

“A defining characteristic of queer space is its deformation, subversion and appropriation of space. In a world hostile both socially and spatially to those who defied norms, adapting existing buildings and interiors (sometimes permanently, more often fleetingly) was a quintessential activity.”

The first, important reflection that emerges from the book is, as Olivia Laing rightly pointed out in her foreword, “the ongoing sense that any space can be turned queer.”5 In fact, “a defining characteristic of queer space is its deformation, subversion and appropriation of space. In a world hostile both socially and spatially to those who defied norms, adapting existing buildings and interiors (sometimes permanently, more often fleetingly) was a quintessential activity”6 and this is evident in several of the case studies analysed, such as the Santiago Apóstol Cathedral in Nicaragua, a formerly abandoned cathedral that became a space of encounter of the LGBTQ+ community, recently forced to vacate the site.

Despite the fragmentary nature of the book, Queer Spaces succeeds at highlighting some ideas for more in-depth reflections on queer architectural history, its limitations, potentials and methods. The authors of this publications are, for instance, rewriting heteronormative architectural histories by underlining the connections between the sexuality of the designers and their design choices. This is true for both historical case studies – such as William Beckford’s Fronthill Abbey in the UK – and famous figures of the modernist era like landscape designer Roberto Burle Marx, whose homosexuality was for a long time hidden by architectural historians.7 Interestingly, other renowned architects and artists like Arata Isozaki and Keith Haring were actively involved in the design and decoration of queer interiors in New York.8

In terms of research methods for the collection of historical evidence of queer spaces it is worthwhile mentioning the point raised by the editors Helen Smith, who studied the traces of working-class queerness.9 She highlighted alternative, forensic solutions that could be applied by historians of queer architecture, such as the strategic use of media outlets and legal documents to gather evidence of queer history. Critical archiving is also explored in the book, a notable example is the “Archivio de la Memoria Trans” in Argentina that emerged as a political move towards the valorization of personal, oftentimes tragic histories as opposed to the repression and invisibility that the trans community had and still have to endure (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1 Facundo Revuelta, photograph of the Archivio de la Memoria Trans, 1980 (c.ca)

Furthermore, the editors highlight the difficulty in publishing all relevant case studies, given the necessity to keep some of these places secret. This leads to the most delicate and piercing aspect of this publication, that is the fil rouge that unites many of these chapters, i.e. the political oppression, discrimination and violence that the LGBTQ+ community had and still have to endure across the globe. The book makes clear the discrepancies between the Anglo-Saxon and Northern Global context – where emblematic sites and architectures have been recognised as valuable cultural heritage – and other countries, where non-binary individuals are still prosecuted and their cultural heritage neglected. Queer history is indeed studded with stories of prosecution and violence, and queer spaces had oftentimes to emerge within hostile environments. Nonetheless, the stories of solidarity, enjoyment, self-actualization, freedom and even joy and re-cognition, along with the emergence of important reflections on projective designs of queer spaces shed a new, encouraging light on queer design and heritage.

A good portion of the chapters of this book concentrates on sites of queer memory. Not surprisingly, they are usually included in the first of the three sections of the book: domestic, collective and public. The first area explores sites where alternative domesticities emerged, along with historical case studies where the first important parts of queer history have been written. The heritage listing of the Royal Vauxhall Bar, along with the first rainbow tag of the Holy Trinity Church in London are very important examples that highlight the step forwards made in the valorisation and protection of queer heritage. The “Homomonument” in Amsterdam is the first queer memorial in the world and reached monument status in 2017. The monument was erected in honour of the non-binary community that were deported or died during the Second World War. As aforementioned, the progressivism demonstrated by some Western countries is countered by the homophobic tendencies of governments and conservative societies, where sites of queer history and memory are left in ruin today.10 One notable example is the Lenin Museum in Moscow that was a renowned space for homosexual encounters throughout the nineties and whose story resonates very much with the current events.

The section “public” pushes the boundaries of what public queer spaces are, including Zoom events like “Queer House Party” that emerged during the Covid-19 pandemic, but also sites for activism, streets, squares and parks. In short, Queer Spaces succeeds at compiling a series of important case studies, but also raising compelling issues on queer history and memory. One hidden, and probably overlooked aspect that emerges in the book is the relevance of interior decoration for the making of queer worlds. The femme decoration of the Loverbar described by Ramos is a clear example of contemporary decoration strategies for the queer appropriation of spaces.11 The modernist counterpart is the interior of Alan Buchsbaum’s Apartment/Office, where Ivan L. Munuera described the hidden queer meaning behind the architect’s use of ceramic tiles in his open bathhouse.12 These are just two of the numerous examples of interior decoration as form of queer design and appropriation of spaces that is worth of further exploration. It is, in fact, evident that the boundaries between architecture and interior architecture in the context of queer design fall, as the quintessential quality queerness is to question pre-established categories.

The book, however, only partially deals with the topic of new designs. In fact, the publication highlights the fact that very few projects have been designed with a queer user in mind. How can architects finally fill this gap in architectural design? Three projects try to answer this question, they are, respectively, the project for the design of non-binary airport toilets in “Stalled!”, the design of an “Architecture Fringe” and the fascinating “Light Coffin – Dracula’s Den”. The latter radically questions the foundations of domestic architecture. It is the home for a same-sex couple that is completely devoid of doors and windows, with just a skylight and a complex solution designed for the accessibility of the space. The couple needed privacy, and the sense of secrecy, along with the opposite need for visibility seem to be the two most important design aspects of queer architectures.

“The concept of ‘domestic floor plans’ that we learn and are taught as common-sense collapsed, just because a homosexual couple asked me for a house.”

From the book it emerged, indeed, that there are some members of the LGBTQ+ community that want to be seen, others who prefer to live their peaceful life, hidden from indiscreet and judgemental eyes. When tasked with the design of the “Dracula’s Den” the architect had to forget all the heteronormative design principles he learned. Notably he said: “the concept of ‘domestic floor plans’ that we learn and are taught as common-sense collapsed, just because a homosexual couple asked me for a house.”13 The collapse of outdated boundaries and conceptions is perhaps the most important lesson learned from reading Queer Spaces, a lesson that all architects should learn if they want to design increasingly inclusive spaces.

Link to the book: Queer Spaces: An Atlas of LGBTQIA+ Places and Stories (London: RIBA, 2022).

Bio

Francesca Romana Forlini is an architect, Ph.D, editor, writer and educator whose research is located at the intersection of feminism, cultural sociology and architectural history and theory. She is an Adjunct Associate Professor at the New York Institute of Technology and Parsons The New School in New York, where she teaches Global History of Architecture and interior design. She worked as chief editor at KoozArch, where she is currently a contributor. She was also the head of History and Theory of Architecture at the BArch at the University of Hertfordshire, researcher at Foster + Partners, lecturer and researcher at Middlesex University, Harvard University and the Royal College of Art (RCA). Francesca was contributor and editor at the Giornale dell'Architettura and Oblique, Critical Conservation Vol. 1, and is the director of the book series Stanze. She is a Fulbrighter ed alumna of Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD) and the RCA.

Notes

1 Regner Ramos, “El Hangar en Sartuce”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 94.
2 Ivan L. Munuera, “Palladium”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 136.
3 Judith Butler, Gender Trouble (New York: Routledge, 1999).
4 Adam Nathaniel Furman and Joshua Mardel, “Introduction”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), XI.
5 Olivia Laing “Foreword”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), IX.
6 Elizabeth Darling, “The Cave of Harmony”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 74.
7 Ben Campkin and Rafael Pereira do Rego, “Aterro do Flamengo”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 206.
8 Ivan L. Munuera, “Palladium” Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 136.
9 Helen Smith, “Two-up, Two-Down”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 18.
10 Like in the case of the Santiago Apóstol Cathedral in Managua, Nicaragua.
11 Regner Ramos, “Loverbar”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 110.
12 Ivan L. Munuera, “Alan Buchsbaum’s Apartment/Office”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 70.
13 Alyssa Ueno, “Light Coffin – Dracula’s Den”, Queer Spaces (London: RIBA, 2022), 8.

Published
16 Jun 2022
Reading time
10 minutes
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