Most importantly, the case also sits at the intersection of two systems of truth: that of an Indigenous nation with strong practices of secrecy and the Western legal system with its preference for empirical evidence (archaeological surveys, for instance, over oral histories).
The notation style is clean and delicate; there’s a certain appeal to all the trappings of precision—the elevation lines, the dates, the geographic markers—in the service of abstraction. To admire the scattered symbols might feel similar to attending a Hemish ritual open to the public, witnessing a ceremony through untranslated sights and sounds.
The book challenges the legal bias toward conventional empirical evidence—Kolowratnik argues that space can be narrated just as well as mapped. At the same time, her work also makes use of this bias. The drawings, however unusual, are meant to appeal to this preference for specialized expertise, the kind of evidence you can print out and staple. Kolowratnik is canny about how her discipline looks to the outside, and knowingly mobilizes architecture’s aura of authority. “Relying on and playing with architecture’s claims to objectivity, factuality, and descriptive clarity, these drawings construct truth-value,” she writes.
Until then, this experiment with the language of architecture is a reminder that there are alternate forms of testimony, imaginative ways to resist the binary of secrecy and transparency.
How to slow down for serious, important reflection in an environment and industry, field that is so fast paced, hype based?
Saki Mafundikwa: why should I speak with the speed of the Westerners? I tell the stories of Africans
It is key to honor our words
233 blocks • 2 days ago