Collective memory emerges within our physical realm through material and spatial manifestations that link personal and collective conceptions of the past and present. The role of the memorial, as the primary urban element of collective memory, aims to encourage selective remembrance and reconciliation as part of a cultural healing process held over time. This thesis is situated in the city of Sofia, at a site of collective traumatic memory: the site of the former G. Dimitrov Mausoleum. Once considered the icon of Bulgarian communism, this building was symbolically demolished in 1999, following the collapse of the regime, leaving a scar in the heart of the city’s fabric and consciousness. This site, along with its abandoned adjacent public square, has become a significant representation of the urge found across all of the former Eastern Bloc countries, to suppress and erase the memory of the recent traumatic past, as a means to heal. However, without any efforts to commemorate, reconcile or face the past, the restrictive environment of oppression during the regime has in turn been replaced by an environment of repression, where mourning has become an impossible task. The modern tradition of public commemoration has been founded upon the notion that permanent monuments as physical objects can become representations of collective memory, preserved through time. Throughout the various attempts to create memorials, this assumption has remained for the most part unquestioned. However, the memorial as such has recently faced a major debate, as the issues of memory and forgetting have emerged as dominant concerns in dealing with the trauma that continues to haunt modern Western culture. Consciously discrediting the reality of the events and the victims associated, the Bulgarian culture has created a form of disconnect between its identity and its collective memory. Challenging the static forms and detached imagery, this proposal will reexamine the traditional definition of the monument as object on pedestal. By revisiting the site where the void left by the demolished mausoleum still haunts those trying to forget, and allowing the memory to emerge back into the collective consciousness, this proposition will allow the trace of the past to be transformed and connected to a new city narrative of remembrance. An engaged and dynamic ritual, beginning and ending at the memorial site, will draw a connection between space, time and memory through a series of new public spaces. Through the recovery of collective memory, it will offer an alternative to the healing process. The memorial is dedicated to the countless victims of censorship and control during the Iron Curtain regime.

This companion of short essays, images and drawings are parts to a whole: a series of independent studies in search of architectural understandings. While this "project" has been underway for several years, until recently the thread of relevance between studies has been untethered. Now at the end, I come to the beginning of this book to suggest the emerging relevance to these studies: architectural harmony. And because the process of understanding is one of sorting things out, this compilation should be appreciated as such. Thus, it is by no means comprehensive or conclusive, despite its presence as a completed work. Indeed, the writing of this book is itself a sorting activity. It is not a report of absolute findings, supported by irrefutable references or statistical data points. Readers should therefore enter the book as a student, engaged in question making, discoursing with another also searching in these pages. Herein lies emerging positions, built up from root questions. Because of this, these positions will likely change with time and may never find absolute resolution. If forced to side with one position at this time, it must be the acknowledgement that there are many. Indeed, many valid positions exist and perhaps, more importantly, coexist. This is the nature of harmony as well. Harmony in architecture is less about notions of something specific, final or pleasing and is more about the poise of phenomenal states: where relationships of part to part and parts to whole form entireties whose identities are appreciable for more than their singularity or their totality. Because harmony is a ex post facto backdrop for these studies, it is not persistent theme throughout the book. Part 1 is dedicated to positions best described as taking stock; for example, taking stock of subjects, such as knots or the square; taking stock of situations and roles, such as modes of inquiry and the responsibility of design; taking stock of one's own dispositions, so to set out a consistent relationship between the players and the field of play. Part 2 describes the thesis project with demonstrations and words. Words are inevitable in discussing the work. They help articulate observations and defend design decisions and sensibilities. Some of these observations are described as if the project exists. But because an architectural thesis often uses demonstrations to provide examples in lieu of final constructions, it is hard to gauge the extent to which these speculations are imagined or drawn out by demonstration. The book concludes with Part 3. The thesis defense lecture is one distillation of harmony that closely examines a fragment of the project as an example of part and whole. Alas, it is in the very nature of using words to understand architecture, especially if the author of text and line are one in the same, that an author's a priori intentions and their a posteriori evaluations of the work are susceptible to mix. Further, such an author is faced with a paradox; on the one hand, he is the expert, on the other, he is in no position to claim ultimate authority. Compatibility between work and word exists partially in the mind and partially in the eyes. It is indeed difficult (perhaps impossible) to step outside the self enough to accurately compare and contrast word and work. With this point established, the work is not only subject to critique, but so is this evaluation of it. To conclude these preparatory remarks, as the direct benefactor of these studies, my appreciation of harmony in architecture is reaching that elusive position where, with each layer of understanding made clear, additional layers of opacity are encountered. In other words, questions are answered with yet more questions. For example, should harmony be understood as cause or effect? Does harmony exist out of time or completely in it? Thus, standard definitions are quite inadequate for architectural understandings of harmony. And while it might be helpful to break harmony down into digestible parts, this reductive inventory does not render a harmonic assembly. Furthermore, even the most lucid of explanations do not translate well into examples such to instruct. It seems the type of thing, perhaps like color, is best known through repetitive and thoughtful experience. This is just the start where even assumptions brought to the table must be checked. Despite these quandaries, my challenge for this book is to reveal something fundamental, albeit modest, to readers, and in the end, for architecture. / Master of Architecture

This thesis examines the development the cult of St Margaret at Dunfermline as a royal cult from 1070, the moment when St Margaret married King Malcolm III at Dunfermline, to 1420, the year of the burial of Robert duke of Albany who was the last royal member to be buried at Dunfermline. Scholars have focused on the life of St Margaret and her reputation or achievement from the biographical, institutional and hagiographical point of view. Although recent historians have considered St Margaret as a royal saint and Dunfermline as a royal mausoleum, they have approached this subject with relatively simple patterns, compared to the studies of the cults of European royal saints and their centres, in particular, those of English and French Kingdoms which influenced Scottish royalty. Just as other European royal cults such as the cults at Westminster and St-Denis have been researched from the point of view of several aspects, so the royal cult at Dunfermline can be approached in many ways. Therefore, this thesis will examine the development of Dunfermline Abbey as a royal cult centre through studying the abbey and the cult of St Margaret from the point of view of miracles and pilgrimage, lay patronage, and liturgical and devotional space. The examination of St Margaret’s miracles stories and pilgrimage to Dunfermline contribute to understanding these stories in the context of the development of the cult. The study of lay patronage explains the significance of royal favour and non-royal patrons in relation to the development of the cult, and how and why the royal cult developed and declined, and how the monks of Dunfermline promoted or sustained the cult of the saint. Lastly, the research of the liturgical and devotional space provides an explanation of the change of liturgical space from the point of view of the development of the cult.

Quoi de plus inné que les concepts d’oblique, d’horizontal ou de vertical ? Pour nous, moderne, ces concepts fondamentaux sont la base de tout notre système de pensée, tant mathématique qu’artistique. Tout porterait à croire que ces principes soient présents dans la civilisation grecque, dont nous nous réclamons les héritiers. Ce n’est pourtant pas une évidence au vu des textes qui nous ont été rapportés. Homère n’a pas connu le concept d’oblique – aucun mot ne saurait le traduire dans la langue de son époque. Et même plus tard. Les Grecs ont cinq adjectifs pour signifier approximativement l’oblique : λοξός, πλάγιος, λέχριος, σκολιός et δόχμιος. Chaque discipline (cosmologie, optique, géographie, artistique, etc.) a sa façon d’appréhender ces cinq termes, qui ne recouvrent à chaque fois que partiellement notre notion d’oblique. Paradoxalement, ce que le langage écrit n’a pas synthétisé se retrouve en abondance dans l’imagerie. Plus surprenant encore, l’oblique dans l’image, que nous considérons comme signe du mouvement dans notre langage iconographique, se retrouve aussi bien pour signifier le mouvement que le repos. Deux monuments de l’art grec attirent notre attention sur ce nouveau paradoxe : la frise du Mausolée d’Halicarnasse et l’Athéna Pensive. A chaque fois l’oblique est présente, à chaque fois elle porte deux sens bien distincts. Ces deux formes de langage, écrit et imagé, apportent un éclairage différent, et pour le moins complémentaire, sur la façon dont les Grecs de l’Antiquité ont appréhendé (ou non) le concept d’oblique. / What could be more innate than the concepts of oblique, horizontal or vertical ? For us, modern, these three concepts are the basis of our whole system of thought, both mathematical and artistic. It would appear to be obvious that these principles are present in the Greek civilization, whose we claim the heirs. However that isn't so obvious in view of the texts that have survived. Homer didn’t know the concept of oblique - no words can translate it into the language of his time. And even later. The Greeks have five adjectives to mean approximately oblique : λοξός, πλάγιος, λέχριος, σκολιός and δόχμιος. Each discipline (cosmology, optic, geography, art, etc.) has its own way of looking at these five words, which cover partially our notion of oblique. Paradoxically, what the written language has not synthesized, can be found in many images. Even more surprising, the oblique in the image, which we consider as a sign of movement in our iconographic language, is found both here to signify the movement than the rest. Two monuments of Greek art call our attention to this new paradox : the frieze of the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus and the Mourning Athena. In each of them the oblique ligne is present, and wears two distinct senses. These two forms of language, written and pictorial, bring a different perspective, furthermore complementary, on how the ancient Greeks apprehended (or not) the concept of oblique.

Le quartier d'al-Mïdan est un exemple judicieux pour présenter l'histoire et le développement de l'expansion urbaine extra-muros de la ville de Damas. En effet, son expansion s'est poursuivie sans interruption au fil des siècles. Longeant la Rue principale vers la Terre Sainte, l'Égypte et la Palestine, ce quartier a été divisé en trois parties (Nord, Centre et Sud) afin d'en faciliter son étude. Le quartier s'est développé à partir des villages des premières tribus arabes installées aux alentours de la muraille (VIIe et VIII siècle). La partie Nord a été le premier secteur du quartier à connaître un vrai essor dans son urbanisation jusqu'à l'époque ayyoubide (570-658/1174-1260) où le Musalla a été transformé en mosquée (en 606/1211) et où la partie centrale a connu un noyau d'urbanisation. A l'époque Mamelouke (658-923/1258-1516), le village al-Qubaybat est apparu dans le Sud avec sa mosquée, la Mosquée al-Karïmï (en 718/1318). Par la suite, la Mosquée de Manjak a été érigée (avant 826/1423) dans le secteur Central qui a intégré la partie Nord. Suite à cela, al-Qubaybat a perdu son indépendance en intégrant l'unité spatiale du quartier avant l'arrivée des ottomans (en 923/1516). L'étude architecturale de l'ensemble des monuments du quartier d'al-Mïdan révèle une identité spécifique avec, d'une part, l'absence totale de madrasa et, d'autre part, la présence de mausolées mamelouks à deux coupoles. Par ailleurs, le quartier présente le seul exemple dans l'architecture damascène d'un édifice proche du type« sabïl- maq'ad », bien connu au Caire d'époque mamelouke. Les sources historiques et les documents écrits des archives fournissent des listes importantes de monuments du quartier disparus de nos jours. Cela s'ajoute à la liste issue des travaux sur le terrain et permet d'avoir une vue plus complète sur l'histoire de l'urbanisation du quartier. La société a été composée de plusieurs classes: les notables (al-Kubartiou al-A 'yiin) qui ont collaboré avec les militaires pour contrôler les peuple (al-'Amma), sans oublier les grand commençants et les milices locales appelées « al-Zu 'ur ». Le pouvoir était représenté par un walï, qui avait la responsabilité de le contrôler, d'y maintenir l'ordre et de collecter les impôts. Ce dernier était soutenu dans sa mission par deux autres personnages : le Shaykh al-hara, qui en général était choisi par le pouvoir parmi les élites ou les personnes puissantes du quartier, et le 'Arif al-hara, qui était un des chefs des milices locales « al-Zu 'ur ». / The district of al-Mïdan is a perfect example to present the history and development of the extramural expansion of the city of Damascus. Indeed, its expansion has continued without interruption for centuries. On both sides of the main road to the Holy Land and Egypt, the area was divided into three sections (North, Central and South) to facilitate its study. The district started to develop from the villages of the first Arab tribes settled a round the wall (seventh and eighth century AD). The northern part was the first sector to experience a real momentum in its urbanization in the Ayyubid period (570-658 / 1174-1260), where the Musalla was converted into a mosque (in 606/1211) and the central part became the core of urbanization. ln Mamluk times (658-923 / 1258-1516), the town of al-Qubaybat appeared in the South with its al­Karimï mosque (in 718/1318). Thereafter, the Jamï Manjak was erected (before 826/1423) in the central area which then incorporated the northern part. Subsequently, al-Qubaybat lost its independence by incorporating into the spatial unity of the area before the arrival of the Ottomans (in 923/1516). The architectural study of the monuments in the district of al-Mïdan reveals a specific identity, total lacking madrasas on the one hand, and on the other band, including: Mamluk mausoleum with two domes. Furthermore, the district has the only example in Damascus of a building approximating to the type "sabïl­maq'ad", well known under the Mamluks in Cairo. The historical sources and written documents of the archives provide important lists of monuments today disappeared. This can be added to the list of the monuments studied and provides a more comprehensive view of the area's urbanization. The social organization was composed of several classes: the notables (al-Kubariï or al-a’yan) who worked with the military to control the people (al-'Amma), without forgetting the well known merchants and local militias called "al-Zu'ur ". The authority was represented by the walï, who was responsible for control, maintaining order and collecting taxes. The walï was supported in his mission by two other persons: Shaykh al-hara, who in general was chosen by the authorities among the elites or powerful people in the district, and the 'Arif al- hara, who was a leader of local militias "al-Zu'ur".

The text deals with various types of ironwork from ca 1550-1740, which we can encounter in sepulchral spaces in Bohemia. The text includes notable examples of individual types of ironwork related to sepulchral monuments in Bohemia and even Central Europe, especially when the works were inspired by Bohemian examples. The main research subject matter of the dissertation is a typological group of ironwork that defined the space around a tombstone or mausoleum freely situated in a sacred environment, e.g. the most important cited work - the ironwork surrounding the Royal Mausoleum in Prague, or the ironwork surrounding the Cenotaph of Maxmilian I located in the Court Church of Innsbruck. Other types of ironwork related to sepulchral monuments are mentioned complementarily, such as ironwork closing off interior chapels, freely standing ironwork, and ironwork protecting sepulchral niches. Powered by TCPDF (www.tcpdf.org)