Chapter 1 | Things I Could Not Explain, Yet Certainly Acted Upon—From the Parks and Barrios of Caracas (Part 1)

In Caracas, I had an experience I cannot explain well.
When I walked through the park. When I stepped into the residential areas on the slopes. Faced with people's behavior, I felt that I could not explain anything with the words I knew. Not with the language of architecture, nor with the language of landscape.

In this first part, I would like to write down that experience of being 'unable to explain' as carefully as possible.

Two perspectives: architectural criticism and landscape criticism

Please allow me a brief introduction.

'Architectural criticism' is a perspective that interprets space from the viewpoints of composition, circulation, and program. By organizing elements such as where things are placed, how people move, and what uses the space is intended for, it attempts to explain human behavior.

'Landscape criticism' is slightly different. It attempts to grasp space not as a fixed form, but within relationships, processes, and temporal changes. It places more importance on behavior born from interactions with the environment and others than on planned uses. It is a perspective that is particularly effective for interpreting spaces formed spontaneously within a city or places that have grown outside of institutional frameworks.

Both are powerful frameworks, and I myself have relied on these two in many situations until now.

However, in Caracas, neither functioned decisively.

What happened in the park

Parque del Este is a large park located in the eastern part of Caracas. It is a place created with a clear design intent, with multiple entrances, gently segmented zones, and contours opened toward the city—at first glance, it seemed that the conditions for interpreting it architecturally were sufficiently present.

I first began to walk with the framework of architectural criticism. Where is the main circulation? Which zone serves what purpose? How are people using the space?

But it did not go well.

The circulation is not fixed to one path. People passing through, people staying, and people turning back are intersecting within the same space with completely different speeds and purposes. It is impossible to clearly separate 'main circulation' from 'margins'.

The program (intended use) also did not dictate behavior. There are people who do not sit even when there is a bench. There are people who do not gather even when there is a plaza. Conversely, people naturally accumulate in places not intended for such use.

The space is certainly designed, yet that design is not the key to explaining human behavior.

It is not because it is a 'free park.' If you look closely, behind the behavior that appears free, people's sense of distance and way of staying were implicitly adjusted. Someone is judging something. But the conditions supporting that judgment were not visible through architectural reading.

What happened in the barrio

The next place I headed to was the barrio that spreads across the slopes of Caracas. A barrio is an informal residential area formed spontaneously outside of administrative planning, and it is widely developed in the hilly parts of Caracas.

Landscape criticism works well for such spaces. By interpreting them from perspectives such as adaptation to topography, self-organization over time, and the accumulation of relationships, one can grasp the unique order that unplanned spaces possess.

I also tried to walk with that framework. But the moment I stepped into it, I knew something was different. The sense of discomfort was completely different in nature from the one in the park.

In the barrio, there are no explicit signs indicating where you can go or where you are not permitted to enter. There are no signs, no fences, and no guides. Yet, the wrong behavior can immediately lead to danger.

There are places where you must not take photos. There are places where you must not stop. You must not look in the wrong direction.

These judgments were not acquired by gradually learning relationships. From the moment you enter the space, it is strongly demanded of your body. Before you even understand, you are already being forced to choose.

Landscape criticism is based on the premise that "you can understand a space by deciphering its relationships." However, here, the direction of your behavior is determined before you have time to learn those relationships. The framework that attempts to understand things inclusively could not effectively handle this immediate demand.

What the two failures left behind

In the park, architectural criticism did not function.
In the barrio, landscape criticism did not function.

However, in both places, people were certainly having their behavior directed. Stopping, avoiding, proceeding, turning back. Something that forced those choices was certainly there.

In the second part, I will re-examine these "things that were not explained, yet certainly had an effect" using the term "judgment," and connect them to the concept of "incomplete design."