Introduction
A Brief History of Light
If you doubt the critical importance of light, the Biblical account of creation can quickly set you straight. According to the Book of Genesis (1:3), on the very first day, right after heaven and the earth were created – and before there was anything else at all, “…God said, Let there be light: and there was light.” This makes a lot of sense. Metaphorically at least, light represents wisdom, truth, honesty, purity, holiness and all things good, so things should be created in light, not in darkness. “And God saw the light, that it was good…” (Genesis 1:4).
In more scientific terms, light is a form of electromagnetic radiation that travels in a straight line. Where light doesn’t strike, there is shade and shadow. And just as in the Biblical account, scientists today agree that light energy played an important part in creating the structure of the universe.[1] The form of light that we are most familiar with – sunlight – continues to affect our lives not only through its ability to illuminate our environment, but to heat the planet, affect our health, dictate weather patterns and fuel photosynthesis. As I write these words, seasonal changes in photosynthesis have caused the maple trees in front of my window to glow with a fiery orange. It’s the sun’s light, or the gradual reduction of it, that has created this chromatic display, and because it exists in the visible light spectrum, I am able to see it and be awed by it. Let there be light.
Natural Light
The effect of light on buildings and in buildings has been an important architectural feature throughout history. Consider the breathtaking interior of the Pantheon in Rome – a lofty light-filled volume that continues to amaze, after 2,000 years.
Frequently, when we are moved or overwhelmed by an architectural experience, natural light plays a role. Light can animate forms and elevate spatial experiences – as well as the human spirit – in a way that no other design element can. Knowing this, designers of holy places through the ages have relied on natural light to create a sense of spirituality – a nearness to things greater than ourselves – divine light, drawing the eye heavenward, creating a sense of religious awe. Raphael Moneo’s Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels in Los Angeles (opened 2002) confirms for me that skilled architects can still accomplish this feat in the 21st century.
Among the many modern architects who have used natural light to create extraordinary forms and spaces, Le Corbusier merits special mention because of his famous (to architects at least) declaration that “architecture is the masterly, correct and magnificent play of masses brought together in light.” For most of us, architecture is a lot more complex and interesting than this, but Corbu made his case by using sunlight in many interesting ways. A well-known example is his Chapel of Notre-Dame du Haut in Ronchamp.
"The building sits so high you have to look up at it, and the point of the roof extends toward you. My first impression of the building was the heavy, dark roof, and the sun playing on the south white wall… its contrast with the dark roof was overwhelming."
– Jim Melvin from The Road to Ronchamp [2]
But it is wrong to assume that Le Corbusier was only concerned with light falling on forms; he was equally inventive in using light in interior spaces – especially true of his modest religious buildings. Again, the Chapel at Ronchamp is a striking example.
"The chapel interior benefitted from the startling bright day: sunlight was stabbing, sometimes blindingly, through the unforgettable coloured glass windows."
– Randy Johnson from The Roads to Ronchamp [3]
Considering the name of our periodical, it seems appropriate to quote Le Corbusier’s “Poem of the Right Angle” (Le poème de l’angle droit), in which he calls the sun “master of our lives.” He writes: “night and day – these two phases/rule our destiny:/A sun rises/a sun sets/a sun rises anew.”
Artificial Light
Anthropologists tell us that early dwellings in cooler climates – caves, huts and shelters – featured a central fire, for warmth, cooking, and light. This was the first source of indoor artificial lighting and it remained the main source for a long time. In his book At Home, Bill Bryson tells us, “Until the late eighteenth century the quality of lighting had remained unchanged for some three thousand years.”[4]
Bryson traces the development of modern artificial lighting from the dim and labour-intensive candle of the eighteenth century to the sputtery and smelly oil lamp, the dirty and dangerous gaslight, the brilliant but unreliable electric arc lamp and, finally, Edison’s incandescent light bulbs and the distribution of electricity in New York City, in 1882.
Over the past century, developments in artificial lighting technology have given us almost complete mastery over interior and exterior illumination.[5] Now, anyone can say “Let there be light,” and, with the snap of a finger (literally), expect to be bathed in it. Technology allows us to create magic with lighting: texture mapping, media screens and other effects have turned artificial lighting into mass entertainment. On the other hand, methods for dimming natural light using intelligent wall assemblies, automated shading devices, sun path analyses, and photosensitive glazing have made it possible to control light to suit any condition.
In the following essays, our contributors examine various aspects of natural and artificial lighting and shading.
NOTES
www.britannica.com/science/light.
Roads to Ronchamp. To be published by The Right Angle Journal in 2019.
See Thomas Schielke. “Light Matters: Le Corbusier and the Trinity of Light.” 11 Feb., 2015 www.archdaily. com/597598/light-matters-le-corbusier-and-the-trinity-of-light.
At Home: A Short History of Private Life. London: Doubleday, 2010, p. 127.
As an example of what chaos can result when artificial lighting is completely absent, see Bryson’s description of London during the wartime blackout – Op. cit. p. 121.