Ancient wisdom

23 May 2011

Past and present come together in contemporary lighting schemes, with history providing a source of inspiration. Admir Jukanovic talks about the impact of ancient architecture on modern lighting design

“I find it interesting how lighting designers can learn from past architecture and its tradition of using light in a mystical or religious way,” says Admir Jukanovic, a designer at London-based practice Mindseye. As an ancient example, he highlights one of the Mediterranean’s oldest temple complexes, Mnajdra, formed from slabs of limestone five millennia ago on the southern coast of Malta.

The lower temple is astronomically aligned: on the morning of both the autumn and spring equinox, the rising sun’s orange rays shine directly through an open corridor along the temple’s central axis. On the winter and summer solstices, morning sunlight is focused on two monoliths set to the north and south of the temple.

“The Neolithic people who built the temple were very, very precise. It is literally a calendar, because it uses light to point out specific dates and times. It demonstrates that early people were able to calculate the exact impact of the sun on a building, which is something that designers have forgotten over the years,” he says. “It’s only really coming back now, supported by CAD software. It’s a very playful building, although they probably didn’t think of it in that way.”

Jukanovic also describes the pyramidal Temple of Kukulcán in the Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza in Mexico. An exterior staircase flanked by two stone borders leads to the top of the pyramid; at the base of the staircase, a large snake’s head has been sculpted on each. “At the autumn and spring equinox, the position of the sun in relation to the temple is such that the edges of the pyramid are cast as shadow on the stairs’ border. Because there is a snake’s head at the bottom, the shadow appears as the body of the snake, which climbs all the way to the top of the building,” he says. “It’s absolutely amazing the way the Mayans have played with light here, not in a tactical manner to illuminate the space, but to achieve something very imposing and symbolic.” For pre-Columbian cultures, the snake’s ability to shed its own skin epitomised spiritual transformation.

This use of shadow is echoed in later design developments. “Often specific openings in modern buildings are designed so patterns or moirés of light and shadow are formed on walls, floors and ceilings. And, in the same way the material snake’s head is emphasised by non-material shadow, features of buildings today are emphasised with light, either directly or indirectly,” he explains. Thousands of people still celebrate the equinox at Chichen Itza twice a year. He adds: “There is an interesting parallel with how we use light to celebrate events in contemporary cities, for example at Christmas, or on 4 July in the US. On specific dates like these we use light to enhance our architecture, our parks and our streets.”

The chapel of Notre Dame du Haut at Ronchamp, France, is an architectural icon. It was completed in 1954 by Franco-Swiss designer Le Corbusier, who was one of the most important architects of the past century. “Le Corbusier was a master director of light. The windows in the chapel are in different shapes and the walls are very thick, which means that on a sunny day, light is cast in a dramatic way. At the same time, indirect light shimmers through a niche between the walls and the ceiling,” says Jukanovic. Yet he favours the architect’s Villa Savoye on the outskirts of Paris, an earlier work, which became a foundation stone for architecture’s International style. “Corbusier uses details instead of dramatic effects here. For instance, at the end of a small corridor he inserts a skylight to enhance the depth of the space. And upstairs the windows are flush to a perpendicular wall at the building’s corners, so light washes onto the vertical without interruption, which is a beautiful effect – it makes you aware of the boundaries around you,” he says. “In comparison with the chapel, this is a much more pleasant, natural approach to light, it’s very liveable, and fits with Le Corbusier’s phrase, ‘The home should be the treasure chest of living’.”

Natural and manmade working together

The sunlight in the minimalist monastery of Nový Dvur in the Czech Republic, designed by contemporary British architect John Pawson, initially enters through light wells, in which it is diffused before filtering into the prayer hall through rectilinear U-shaped gaps. “The light is broken and softened in the wells, it is prepared in a very particular manner for the religious space, ” says Jukanovic. The result is something close to sublime and the gaps of light – due to the thin edges, treated surfaces and sharp angles of the walls behind – appear almost entirely flat, as if they are themselves a projection of light on one plane.

On a cloudy day or during the evening at Nový Dvur, natural light is supplemented with electric light emitted from the same place – the hollow space behind the walls.

“This is an approach that is very dear to us at Mindseye,” Jukanovic continues. He cites the company’s lighting design for contemporary art gallery White Cube, in

Mayfair, London, where the basement exhibition space is illuminated by daylight from the floor above. This passes through opaque panels flush to the basement ceiling and is enhanced when necessary by T5 fluorescents hidden behind the panels. “You get used to your sources of light during the day,” he says. “Why not bring in light from the same place at night?”

● Admir Jukanovic was talking to Sam Phillips