We are well into the #FairyTales2015 competition - and we wanted to take a moment to share a bit of insight into why fairy tales are such a potent format for architects. Below is a dissection of the history and the function of fairy tales, and how architects can leverage storytelling to communicate design. 

Fairy tales span millenniums and cultural boundaries with their special way of communicating complex ideas through simple, yet fantastical means.

They are the first form of narration we are acquainted with as children. They are usually told or read by a person we are close to and trust, and they speak to us about situations and worlds that are foreign and distant, yet understandable. Fairy tales are our gateway to significance, to making sense of the intricacies of the real world we get to know as we age. They present us with problems and with ways in which they are dealt with by their protagonists, who often have to prove themselves in the course of the story, or are called to choose their friends and to identify enemies, or must find the resources in themselves to overcome whatever situation they are called to act upon. They are paradigmatic of experiences we haven’t yet had, decisions we haven’t yet made, feelings we haven’t yet felt, but surely will. Without us being cognizant, they are our first training in logic, in empathy and in creativity.

The way the English language calls these children stories “fairy” tales can be partially deceiving. The word “fairy” describes fantastical, magic creatures such as elfins and spirits. Those are often are involved in such stories, and in the plots of these tales there is a magic component playing a role in the events: a magic object is needed, a cursed object is found, a person who has magic powers helps the protagonist or keeps them from succeeding, a spell is cast and needs to be broken. However, many of the Latin words that are blended in the English definition for these folk tales have meanings that reveal a deeper level of significance. For example, the Latin verb “farior” simply means “to tell a story.” The verb “fari” means “to speak.” Another very similar word is “fatum,” fate in English: the tales we are talking about are often telling the story of someone’s destiny. Fairy tales, therefore, are not simply about fairies, they are also about fates, and about the relational activities of speaking, of telling someone a story.

Studying fairy tales, psychoanalyst Bruno Bettelheim concentrated his attention on both the relational aspect of telling stories and on the educational effects of being told a story. According to Bettelheim, fairy tales describe inner states of minds by means of images and actions, translating internal processes into visual images. The visual stimulation makes complex concepts relatable, ignites unconscious processes, promotes insights and gives validity to the feelings felt while listening to the stories. These properties are so important that Bettelheim tells how in ancient Indian cultures, a parable or a fairy tale was often told by doctors to their patients who were troubled with stress and preoccupations, so that they could repeat it to themselves while meditating and figure out the solutions to their problems while retracing the steps of the characters in their quest for happiness.

A fairy tale, therefore, is a story from which the listener can extract not only information on the world and their surroundings, but a deeper knowledge about themselves, their needs and their desires. Referring to the child’s experience of fairy tales, Bettelheim writes that “Fairy tales, unlike any other form of literature direct the child to discover his identity and calling, and they also suggest what experiences are needed to develop his character further.” This conclusion is generalizable to readers of all ages. Italian writer Gianni Rodari, who specialized in modern fairy tale writing, firmly believed that fairy tales are the only game that adults and children can play together without the need for anything else than their minds, feelings and words. To Rodari, modern fairy tales as well as the ancient ones are important for both kids and grownups. “Fairy tales are the place of all the hypotheses: they give us keys to access reality from paths that are off the beaten track.”

The return to fairy tales in a later stage of life allows the recognition of their deeper structures of meaning and of their essential, basic, universal value. A very popular quote of C. S. Lewis’ words is “Someday you’ll be old enough to start reading fairy tales again.” In contemporary culture, we feel like that time has come already: so many fantastic stories are now brought to the 3-D theater screens for consumption by adults and children. The success of contemporary animated movies, the resurgence of the fantasy literary genre, testify that the interest in fantastic stories is very much alive, potentially more in former children than in the younger audiences. Even in the news, the elements of surprise and amazement play a key role in selecting what stories have what it takes to go viral. The world is permeated by the desire of being told stories. It’s a great time to be storytellers.

How does this apply to architecture?

It does so in many ways.

Stories form the foundation of architectural proposals, and it is through various stages of storytelling that a project’s general challenges and constraints are outlined, as well as a formal outcome is determined, and an architectural strategy is put in place.

This process shares so much with what Paul Ricoeur used to define as “mise en intrigue,” or emplotment – every creative idea has a plot, a structure, internal tensions and patterns of significance that make it understandable to the reader, the viewer, the user. That is true in storytelling as it is true in architectural storytelling. Ricoeur went so far as to actually compare architecture and narratives, and found that both of them have the power of “creating memory,” “making what’s absent present.” If narrative tells a story in time, architecture builds a story in space. In both cases, something is constructed, whether in the physical or the mental space, and that something becomes inhabited with memories and experiences. It comes from the mind of its creator, who has to plot it and structure it, and becomes a part of the life of somebody else, who establishes a relationship with it.

Another reason why fairy tales matter to architecture is the element of play. Playing is key in design. So much good design sparks from doodles, from absurd ideas, from fantasies. So many great ideas for something that looks like a building actually can’t be built – nevertheless these concepts push architectural creativity forward, and are the place to experiment with new issues, new topics, new scenarios.

Most importantly, the reason why an injection of fairy tale magic is crucial for architecture has to do with the very mission of Blank Space. We believe architecture can be more interesting, more fun and more social. Communication is omnipresent, and good communication helps great ideas change the world. Currently, there is a gap between architecture and the rest of the world. Architects have lost their centrality in the society. Architecture is now marginalized in its new role of aesthetic commodity, trapped in technical jargon and in concerns that are just the designers community’s. By retreating in self-absorption, architecture has lost its ability to send universal messages, to represent culture in its time, and to address issues that are those of the general public.

Telling a story is the primary way of communicating a message effectively to every audience.

By asking you to think in terms of stories we want to excite your imagination and to invite you to go beyond the classic topics and typologies that architecture competitions often focus on. We also highly encourage you to team up with non-architects and non-designers, to maximize architecture’s exposure to the world and the society it is thought for, and we hope, soon enough, thought with.

As we illustrated, fairy tales are the most accessible stories humans are able to tell. It’s not at all a matter of them being simple - they present structural rules, precise patterns and feature distinct element, some of which we covered, many more of which are the subject of in-depth studies by anthropologists, semioticians and literature academics alike. They are as sophisticated as a specimen of great architecture, and like great architecture they are relatable, fascinating and understandable to all, even to those who have no expertise - whether that is the life-expertise that children are too young to have, or the architectural eye that the general public is not called to develop, but that architects intend to catch.

For all these reasons, we invite you to create your own architectural fairy tale, in hopes that reconnecting with the magic, the whimsy and the fun will impact the shape and form of our collective tomorrow.

> via blankspaceproject.com