Architecture of Eternity

There are places where architecture and urban planning are not only shaped by the needs of the Present but also by the beliefs of a life beyond. This photographic series is imbued with this philosophy that shaped Hue, the imperial city in central Vietnam, founded only recently in the 19th century by the Nguyen dynasty. Its construction follow the rules of Nature, those of Feng Shui: Oriented on the cardinal points, the city has established the palaces in the North and the mausoleums in the South separated by the Perfume River and by taking into account the position of the mountains and the rivers populated by fabulous animals, such as the Dragon, the Tiger. The gardens draw the Universe with ponds of water lilies, filled with carp reflecting the permanent renewal and the abundance of the place. On the coast, the mangroves with their twisted trees in the shape of bonsai betray a harsh climate, with heat and storms incessantly succeeding each other not counting the Vietnam War where almost all the Forbidden City has been destroyed . Yet serenity reigns Hue. Started in 2014, this photographic work is not a topological catalog of the region of Hue but tends to make all this cosmology perceived internally, like a slow diffusion from the visible to the invisible. The color hues chosen for the photos highlight this erosion of matter to extract its immaterial essence. This project emphasizes in particular the worship of ancestors. They are always present in daily life, for which it is necessary to prepare the continuation of the life beyond. The imperial mausoleums and tombs, from the humblest to the most oversized, mix Christian and Buddhist religions in a mosaic of multicolored patterns. Nowadays the most expensive ones, with a price of a real house, are financed by the overseas Vietnamese people who still fulfill their Confucian duty from far away. Thus the city of Hue continues to perpetuate spiritual precepts by new constructions or renovations that transform its own Space-Time into an Architecture of Eternity.

Does the habitat we are part of nourish us and shape our experiences, memories, and expectations? If I look at the photographs by Quang Lam, I must agree. The imperial city of Hue, Vietnam, is often cited for the harmony between nature and architecture symbiosis that benefits its visitors' souls and spirits. Its lush gardens and coexistence of styles make this place an oasis of mixité. This place recalls other royal episodes, dynasties, and regents who surrounded their homes with beautiful environments to surprise their guests and demonstrate their sumptuousness. The series leads us to reflect in at least two directions. The first is that these events concerned a handful of wealthy people.
The living conditions of the masses have not always coincided with an earthly Eden. Even today, this is the case if we observe urbanism and, in particular, the state of the suburbs or the metropolitan densities that leave little space for green dreams. A terrace is already a privilege. In its progressive urbanization, the human species has distanced itself from nature, forced into concrete towers whose temperature is acceptable by air conditioning. We can easily admit that the urban lesson is somewhat grey, if not dirty. It's hard to deny that there is a lot of talk about how to make the modern polis eco-friendly, but we are far from a symbiosis with the environment. Let's face it: green is almost a decoration. Nature or vegetation is more of a valuable slogan for constructing cycle paths and purchasing electric transport. The practical question is, what do asphalt, concrete, speed, speculative mutation, and removal of references produce in man? Let's further summarize the question: is the metropolitan dimension harmful to health? What is the net balance? If, on the one hand, these photographs show us an idyllic place, on the other, they hide for a moment a reality that is quite different in Vietnam, as in much of the world. And here we come to the second consideration. Can we transform the world and our habitats into gardens or spaces where we can have a respectful experience of the cosmos? Or is the flora journey summarized as a walk in the park, along a pedestrianized riverbank, or a "demineralized" waterfront? Is this just a utopia?
As we search for answers, these photographs offer us a different memory of what could be.