In 2000, Peter Yeadon completed Karl: An Architectural Narrative, which was his Rome Prize / Prix de Rome project. The work consists of editioned prints of drawings (Inkjet on Bianco Fabriano Paper, 1000 mm X 230 mm), and a number of incomplete text fragments that partially narrate a story about a new immigrant who has slowly become a Roman citizen. Yeadon wrote the incomplete fragments of the fiction so that they begin mid-sentence and end mid-sentence. As a series, the fragments are as disconnected from each other as pages randomly torn from a book.
Yeadon’s original texts were written in English. They were then translated into Italian by Riccardo Duranti, Professor of English Literature at the University of Rome La Sapienza. Duranti’s Italian texts were then translated back into English by Lawrence Venuti, Professor of English at Temple University. The translations and back-translations emphasize the immigrant’s loss of his own native language as he adopts a second language, creating a distance between here and there, then and now. While he was in Rome, Yeadon met both of these authors for the first time.
The 16 drawings represent works of architecture that the protagonist, Karl, encounters and builds in Rome. They are sequentially arranged with the following titles: City (one drawing sheet); Fabric House (two drawing sheets); Columbarium (two drawing sheets); Horizon House (one drawing sheet); Depth House (one drawing sheet); Colosseum for Vanishing Curiosities (one drawing sheet); City Gate (three drawing sheets); Teatro de Tevere (one drawing sheet); Neptune House (one drawing sheet); Bath (two drawing sheets); and Bricolage House (one drawing sheet). Each drawing edition is numbered and signed by the architect.
A complete set of the work (Edition 3/11) was collected by the Canadian Centre for Architecture in Montréal, Canada. The CCA collection includes four sketchbooks that Yeadon filled with drawings and notes while developing the project. The sketchbooks illustrate a range of influences, ideas, designs, and narrative texts that Yeadon explored as he worked through his Rome Prize project.
Karl: An Architectural Narrative
Complete List of Drawings with their associated Narratives
CITY
… stopping at the town of Nothing, Arizona, where the citizens had erected a humble road sign that declared “We are Nothing”. Karl left her a few days later, unaware, her silence deaf by sleep.
When he arrived in Rome, it was not the city he remembered from his youth. In fact, he had never been to Rome before. When he was young, his parents would take Karl to places closer to home and would tell him they were visiting great cities abroad, inventing strange names and facts that made the ordinary Canadian streets seem exotic. He was never really sure, now, what cities he had visited and what cities he hadn’t.
In the belly of the Colosseum, Karl experienced this familiar void between his memories and what was before him. As he suspected, the ruin he had visited in 1975 was not this Colosseum, but another, the incomplete Olympic Stadium in Montréal. It, too, was a large carcass and seemed to be under constant maintenance. He suspected that their family tour of Hadrian’s Impenetrable Colonnade was likely at a convenient grain silo along the Tiber of Montréal. He was almost correct.
Emigrating to Rome provided Karl with a new beginning. He could redress the gift of displacement that his parents had …
PETER YEADON
… una sosta nella città di Nulla, in Arizona, dove gli abitanti avevano messo sù un modesto cartello stradale che dichiarava: “Noi siamo Nulla”. Karl la lasciò qualche giorno dopo, senza che lei se ne rendesse conto, nel silenzio reso sordo dal sonno.
Quando poi arrivò a Roma, non era la città che ricordava da giovane. Anzi, a Roma non c’era mai stato prima. Quand’era ragazzo, i genitori portavano Karl a visitare posti vicino casa dicendogli che si trovavano in grandi città all’estero e inventandosi nomi e circostanze strane che davano una patina esotica a strade canadesi quanto mai normali. Perciò, ora, non era mai del tutto sicuro di quali città aveva visitato e quali no.
Nel ventre del Colosseo, Karl provò il familiare senso di vuoto che si apriva tra i suoi ricordi e quello che si trovava davanti. Come sospettava, i ruderi che aveva visitato nel 1975 non erano questo Colosseo, bensì un altro, l’incompiuto Stadio Olimpico di Montreal. Anche quello era un’enorme carcassa e pareva essere in perenne restauro. Karl sospettava anche che la gita che aveva fatto con la famiglia all’Impenetrabile Colonnato Adrianeo, con ogni probabilità aveva avuto luogo in un silos per lo stoccaggio del frumento molto più a portata di mano, lungo le rive del Tevere di Montreal. E non era molto lontano dalla verità.
Il trasferimento a Roma aveva fornito a Karl l’occasione di ricominciare da capo. Poteva così risarcire il dono spiazzante che i genitori gli avevano …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… a stop in the city of Nothing, Arizona, where the inhabitants had erected a modest road-side sign that declared: “We are Nothing.” Karl lit out a few days later, and Nothing failed to notice it, in the sleep-deafened silence.
When he arrived in Roma, it wasn’t the town he recalled from his youth. In fact, it just wasn’t the same town at all. When Karl was a boy, his parents took him to visit places near home, telling him that they had travelled to great foreign cities, inventing strange names and situations that endowed the most mundane Canadian streets with an exotic patina. At this point, however, he wasn’t entirely sure which cities he had visited and which he hadn’t.
In the belly of the Colosseum, Karl experienced the familiar sense of emptiness that yawned between his memories and whatever he found himself in front of. As he suspected, the ruins he had visited in 1975 weren’t this Colosseum, but another one, the unfinished Olympic Stadium in Montréal. That too was an enormous carcass that seemed as if it were always being restored. Karl also suspected that the trip he had taken with his family to the inscrutable Hadrian’s Column had occurred much closer to home, in all probability, at one of the grain silos along the banks of the Tiber in Montréal. He wasn’t very far from the truth.
The transfer to Roma had provided Karl with a chance to start over again. He could thus make good the gift his parents had given …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
FABRIC HOUSE
… lightly touching the thick skin of the city. He made his place at the convergence of five streets, with fabric walls to enclose each street at each end. He made his floor of sand, which left traces of his daily habits but preserved the street surfaces and debris for future generations to excavate.
To the citizens, the fabric curtains were simply scaffolding, an accordion shroud surrounding another precious artefact. However, to Karl, each curtain was a proscenium and there was a performance in every street, easily observed between the zippers of the cloth.
It was from here that Karl, at once, witnessed the Surveyor at work. The Surveyor’s right forearm was larger than his left, evidence that he had held the same instrument in the same hand for every day of every year. He who once projected great intentions for the city, now surveyed the same benchmark daily. He recorded and documented changes, however subtle, while imagining that there must be a second, parallel, city. A city that contains all that …
PETER YEADON
… che sfioravano la spessa pelle della città. Costruì il suo posto nel punto di convergenza di cinque strade, con pareti di stoffa che chiudevano l’estremità di ogni strada. Per pavimento scelse uno strato di sabbia su cui rimanevano le tracce delle sue abitudini quotidiane, ma conservava altresì la superficie delle strade e i residui per gli scavi delle future generazioni.
Per i cittadini, i sipari di stoffa non erano altro che impalcature, un sudario a fisarmonica che circondava un altro prezioso manufatto. Tuttavia, per Karl, ogni sipario rappresentava un proscenio e ogni strada offriva uno spettacolo che poteva facilmente essere osservato sbirciando tra le cerniere della stoffa.
Fu da un tale spiraglio che Karl, quasi subito, riuscì a osservare il Topografo al lavoro. L’avambraccio destro del Topografo era più sviluppato di quello sinistro, prova che aveva tenuto lo stesso strumento nella stessa mano ogni giorno, ogni anno. Colui che aveva un tempo concepito grandi intenzioni per la città, ora misurava tutti i giorni lo stesso caposaldo. Registrava e documentava ogni benché minimo cambiamento e nel frattempo immaginava che doveva esserci una seconda città, parallela a questa. Una città che contiene tutto quello che …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… which grazed the thick skin of the city. He constructed his space at the point where five streets converged, erecting fabric walls that blocked off the end of each street. For a floor he chose a layer of sand, traced with vestiges of his daily routines. Yet he also preserved the surface of the streets and some debris for excavations conducted by posterity.
To the citizens, the fabric curtains were nothing more than scaffolding, an accordian-like shroud that wrapped another costly construction. To Karl, however, each curtain represented a proscenium, and each street offered a performance that could easily be observed by peeping through the grommets at the edges of the fabric.
It was through such chinks that, almost immediately, Karl managed to glimpse the Surveyor at work. The Surveyor’s right forearm was more developed than the left, proof that he had held the same instrument in the same hand day in day out, year after year. He who had once conceived great plans for the city now gauged it from the same point of reference every day. He recorded and documented even the most minute changes, all the while imagining that a second city had to be there, a city parallel to this one. A city containing everything that …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
COLUMBARIUM
… that someone told someone, and that someone told Karl. They spun the tale of the city as a vessel, a container of citizens, and that the city began with the making of storage houses. The buildings were dated as one dates condiments. Although it was a familiar song, they told the tale as if it was of their own making; as all great storytellers must.
Delight in the head as a vessel! Karl fancied his own head as a storage vessel, completely filled with memories and sensations, each new experience supplanting a treasured keepsake. Hence he would listen with discretion, concerned that the thoughts of others might entirely replace his own small preserves.
Karl entered The Columbarium, a temple for storing reflections. The city had become sentimental in its old age. It could recollect the minutia of events thought long forgotten, but lacked clear memories of last week. He entered the cavities, while imagining that there must be a second, parallel, city. A city that contains all that Rome could be. Perhaps nested between the hollow …
PETER YEADON
… che qualcuno aveva raccontato a qualcun altro che l’aveva poi riferito a Karl. S’inventarono la storia della città come recipiente, un contenitore di cittadini, e che la città era cominciata con la costruzione di magazzini. Gli edifici erano datati come si datano i condimenti. Sebbene fosse una solfa ormai familiare, raccontarono la storia come se l’avessero inventata loro; come devono fare tutti i grandi narratori.
Godersi la mente come un recipiente! Karl immaginava la propria mente come un recipiente, un magazzino pieno fino all’orlo di ricordi e sensazioni, dove ogni nuova esperienza soppiantava un caro ricordo. Era per questo che ascoltava sempre con la massima discrezione, preoccupato che i pensieri degli altri potessero rimpiazzare del tutto le piccole riserve personali che si era costruito.
Karl entrò nel Colombarium, il tempio dove venivano conservate le riflessioni. La città, invecchiando, era diventata sentimentale. Riusciva a ricordare i più minuti dettagli di eventi ritenuti da tempo dimenticati, ma non aveva un chiaro ricordo di quel che era successo la settimana prima. Entrò nelle varie cavità immaginando che ci dovesse essere una seconda città, una città parallela. Una città che contiene tutto quello che Roma può essere. Magari annidata tra la valle …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… which someone had related to someone else who then related it to Karl. They invented the story of the city as receptacle, a container of citizens, adding that it had originated with the construction of warehouses. Buildings were dated the way condiments were dated. Although by now the story had lapsed into a hackneyed routine, they told it as if they themselves had invented it — as all great storytellers must do.
To take pleasure in the mind as a receptacle! Karl imagined his own mind as a receptacle, a warehouse brimful of memories and sensations, where every new experience supplanted a cherished memory. It was for this reason that he always listened with the utmost discretion, worried that the thoughts of others might completely displace the small reserves he had built up.
Karl entered the Colombarium, the temple where reflections were preserved. As the city aged, it grew sentimental. It managed to recall the most minute details of retained events that had been forgotten for a spell. But it didn’t have a clear memory of what happened last week. He entered the various cavities, imagining that there must be a second city, a parallel city. A city that contains everything that Roma can be. Maybe nestled in the valley …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
HORIZON HOUSE
… as there was a unique fear of the ground here, a certain reverence of dust, spit. The tufa stone was soft, vulnerable to the impression of fingers, although not even the subway trains could penetrate it.
Canadian soil, landscape. Thin, but expansive. Steeped in nostalgia, Karl constructed his second house above the roofs of Rome. Monuments in the distance rested upon the roofscape, the new horizon. Forests of television antennae filtered the light, luminous. His brook was the murmur of machines, moving in the streets below. His retreat revolved to chase the Sun, always casting the same shadow, the camera eclipsed only by …
PETER YEADON
… dato che qui c’era un particolare timore per il suolo, una certa reverenza per la polvere, lo sputo. La pietra di tufo era morbida, vulnerabile alla pressione delle dita, anche se nemmeno i treni della metropolitana riuscivano ad attraversarla.
Terreno, paesaggio canadese. Esile, ma espansivo. Intriso di nostalgia, Karl costruì la sua seconda casa sopra i tetti di Roma. I monumenti in lontananza riposavano sopra il profilo dei tetti, il nuovo orizzonte. Foreste di antenne televisive filtravano la luce, esse stesse luminose. Il suo ruscello era il mormorio delle macchine che si muovevano sotto, in strada. Il suo eremo girava per inseguire il Sole e gettava sempre la stessa ombra, la telecamera eclissata solo da …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… seeing that there was, in these parts, a particular awe for the soil, a certain reverence for dust, for spit. The stratum of volcanic rock was soft, vulnerable to the fingers’ pressure, even if subway trains hadn’t managed to penetrate it.
Canadian land, landscape. Thin, but expansive. Moist with nostalgia, Karl constructed his second house above the roofs of Roma. The monuments in the distance rested on the contour of the roofs, the new horizon. Forests of television antennas, luminous themselves, filtered the light. His brook was the murmur of the cars that stirred below, in the street. His hermitage revolved to pursue the Sun and always cast the same shadow, the telecamera eclipsed only by …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
DEPTH HOUSE
[Narrative text and translations are incomplete]
COLOSSEUM for VANISHING CURIOSITIES
… s; are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new eras?
This is how the Colosseum for Vanishing Curiosities appeared to Karl. It began in the mountains, where rain drops became rivulets, and ended in the city with the swollen Tevere heaving the erection out of the ground.
But when the river withered, the great Colosseum sank into the ground and became a flat pattern on the surface of the Via dei Fori Imperiali. It became a great mosaic with a confusing rhythm.
Never odd or even …
PETER YEADON
… onorarono ingegni e inni inani.
Ed ecco come il Colosseo delle Curiosità in Via di Sparizione appariva a Karl. Tutto aveva inizio sui monti, dove le gocce di pioggia diventavano rivoli e finivano in città con il Tevere gonfio che ne faceva affiorare l’erezione dal terreno.
Ma quando il fiume avvizziva, il grande Colosseo sprofondava in terra e diventava un disegno piatto sulla superficie di Via dei Fori Imperiali. Diventava un grande mosaico dal ritmo confuso.
Ai lati d’Italia …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… deified straw arts, solo gigolos, senile felines.
And lookey here how the Colosseum of Curiosities appeared to Karl on Via di Sparizione. It all commenced in the mountains, where raindrops metamorphosed into rivulets and squirted down into the city, so that the swollen Tiber forced the erection to mushroom from the soil.
But when the river shriveled up, the huge Colosseum drooped to the ground, flattening into a drawing on the sidewalk of Via dei Fori Imperiali. A great mosaic with a boogie-woogie rhythm.
Yawn … A more Roman way …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
CITY GATE
… other things, was the inventor of: an unsuccessful mechanical cheese grater, the chEASY™, that was powered by mice turbines; the Brutus™ series of sex toys for men; and the Periscopic City Gate – one of which was installed in the new city wall surrounding Rome.
The new city wall was to bring new definition to the city. The wall was not built to keep people out; rather, it was to keep people in. The wall was made to contain development, to make the city more dense. Although, as it could only be built on land that the Soprintendenza Archeologica deemed insignificant, it followed a path that seemed to entirely avoid Rome.
The Periscopic City Gate was quite simple in idea, but difficult in resolution. The Gate consisted of a clutch of tubes that quickly dispersed to various destinations about the city. Each tube contained the reflected image of its destination; one simply drove into an image to be delivered at its place of origin. No further signage was necessary. This was the inventor’s finest invention.
Karl often wondered why he was given the same name as that celebrated innovator. Imagine the dread of writing your own name in a crossword puzzle. He would always be known, now, for who he is not. Nothing would become of him. Among other …
PETER YEADON
… le altre cose, aveva inventato: una grattugia meccanica per formaggio che non aveva avuto molto successo, la CacioFacile™, azionata da turbine a propulsione topesca, la collezione di gingilli sessuali per uomini Brutus™ e la Porta Periscopica Urbana – una delle quali era installata nella nuova cinta di mura che circondava Roma.
Questa nuova cinta di mura aveva lo scopo di ridefinire la città. Le mura non erano state costruite per tenere fuori la gente, bensì per tenerla dentro. Le mura erano state erette per contenere lo sviluppo della città, per renderla più densa. Anche se, siccome potevano essere costruite solo su terreni che la Soprintendenza Archeologica considerava insignificanti, finivano per seguire un percorso che pareva evitare completamente Roma.
La Porta Periscopica Urbana era abbastanza semplice come idea, ma di ardua risoluzione. La Porta consisteva di un fascio di tubi che permettevano di raggiungere rapidamente varie destinazioni in città. Ciascun tubo conteneva l’immagine riflessa della sua destinazione; non si doveva dunque far altro che puntare dritti all’immagine per uscire poi al suo punto d’origine. Non c’era bisogno di nessun altro tipo di segnaletica. Questa era la più raffinata invenzione dell’inventore.
Karl si chiedeva spesso perché gli era stato assegnato lo stesso nome di quel celebre innovatore. Immaginate il terrore di scrivere il vostro nome in uno schema di parole crociate. Ormai, sarebbe stato sempre noto come chi non era. Non sarebbe mai diventato nulla. Tra le altre …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… things, he had invented: a mechanical cheese grater which did not meet with much success, the CheeseWhiz™, operated by rat-driven turbine; the Brutus™ collection of sexual toys for men; and the Urban Periscopic Portal–one of which was installed in the new perimeter wall that surrounded Roma.
This new perimeter wall was designed to redefine the city. It was constructed not to keep people out, but to keep them in. It was erected to bottle up the spread of the city, to render it more thick. Even if–because the wall could be constructed only on land that the Office of Archaeological Works considered insignificant–it wound up following a route that seemed to skirt Roma completely.
The Urban Periscopic Portal was fairly simple in conception, but arduous in execution. It consisted of a cluster of tubes that rapidly transported you to various destinations in the city. Each tube contained the reflected image of its destination, so all you had to do was to point straight at the image in order to exit at the point of its origin. No other signage was necessary. This was the inventor’s most elegant invention.
Karl often asked himself why he had been saddled with the same name as that renowned innovator. Imagine the uncanniness of writing your own name in a crossword puzzle. Now he’d always be taken for some guy he wasn’t. He’d never amount to anything. Among other …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
TEATRO del TEVERE
… round, surrounding the Tiber. How wearisome is the attire of water. And Karl, making his daily vigil over the great Teatro as it slowly emerged from the ebbing river. Neptune fleeing his …
PETER YEADON
… rotondo, tutt’intorno al Tevere. Quant’è noioso l’abbigliamento dell’acqua. E Karl che quotidianamente vegliava sul gran Teatro man mano che emergeva lento dal fiume che rifluiva. Nettuno che fuggiva dalle sue …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… round, surrounded by the Tiber. How irksome the watery furbelow! And Karl, who surveyed the huge Theatre every day while it slowly emerged from the ebbing river–Neptune fleeing from his …
LAWRENCE VENUTI
NEPTUNE HOUSE
[Narrative text and translations are incomplete]
BATH
[Narrative text and translations are incomplete]
BRICOLAGE HOUSE
… rarely borrowed, and often stolen. They harvested great works, robbing them of their substance, scavenging this and that for that and this.
Karl became a bricoleur quite by accident. He was given a television set that emitted sound, but no picture. After gathering a series of antennae, Karl began to rearrange and expand his small collection with an eye toward improvements. But in the end none of his sets performed properly, despite the numerous devices he acquired.
He installed the collection in his final house, arranged so that he could watch one set while listening to another. He would only watch black and white films on black and white televisions, and action films on sets that he could swivel. This was to emulate the thrust of the action.
The house, too, was a collection of found objects, including: Vespa legshields, trash bins, pocketed artefacts, and string. Karl died while hanging off the house to install a battering ram. Ironically, his own decapitated head became immediately useful for parting traffic, while lodged at the front of the bus that …
PETER YEADON
… raramente prese in prestito, molto spesso rubate. Raccolsero grandi opere, svuotandole della loro sostanza, frugando qua e là per recuperare questo e quello.
Karl diventò bricoleur per caso. Gli era stato dato un televisore che emetteva suoni, ma non immagini. Dopo aver messo insieme una serie di antenne, Karl cominciò a risistemare e ad allargare la sua piccola collezione con l’obiettivo di migliorarla. Ma alla fine nessuno dei suoi apparecchi funzionava come doveva, nonostante i numerosi aggeggi che acquistava.
Installò la collezione nella sua ultima casa, sistemandola in modo che poteva guardare un apparecchio mentre ne ascoltava un altro. Guardava solo film in bianco e nero su televisori in bianco e nero e film d’azione su apparecchi che poteva far ruotare. Lo scopo era di emulare lo slancio dell’azione.
Anche la casa era un’accozzaglia di oggetti trovati, compresi paragambe di Vespa, bidoni dell’immondizia, manufatti intascati e spago. Karl morì mentre si sporgeva dalla casa per installare un ariete da sfondamento. Per ironia della sorte, la sua testa spiccata dal busto trovò subito uso come spartitraffico, incastrata com’era sul muso dell’autobus che …
RICCARDO DURANTI
… seldom borrowed, more often filched. They cobbled together great works, voiding their essences, rummaging hither and yon to salvage whatnot.
By sheer chance, Karl metamorphosed into a bricoleur. He found himself the beneficiary of a telly that emitted sounds, but no images. After fashioning a succession of antennas, Karl set about reorganizing and enlarging his small collection with an eye towards improving it. In the end, however, none of his devices worked as it should, despite the numerous thingamajigs he was acquiring.
He installed the collection in his last house, arranging it so that he could watch one device while listening to another. He watched only black-and-white movies on his black-and-white telly and action/adventure movies on sets that could be made to rotate. The aim was to mimic the whirlwind of the action.
The house too was a mishmash of found objects, including leg-guards from Vespas, garbage cans, pocketed handicrafts, twine. Karl died while dangling off the roof to install a battering ram. Through an ironic twist of fate, his severed head found immediate use as a median strip, mounted as it was on the hood of a bus which …
LAWRENCE VENUTI