Memorial space and its mnemonic function

Planning

Cities, especially capital cities, illustrate how the built environment becomes imbued with meaning, especially meaning of political consequence. The painstaking deliberation that goes into the planning and development of a democratic city means that every decision and execution is the result of the selection of one among many alternatives. Lewis Mumford (1966 [1938]) believed cities are “where human experience is transformed into viable signs, symbols, patterns of conduct, systems of order” (p. 3). In the city, communication is inevitable around every corner and just behind that next door. Mumford seems to view the city the way we might view an archive. Mumford (1966 [1938]) states, “They are the molds in which men’s lifetimes have cooled and congealed, giving lasting shape, by way of art, to moments that would otherwise vanish with the living and leave no means of renewal or wider participation behind them” (p. 4). Most importantly, he acknowledges the ability of the city to “leave an imprint upon the minds even of the ignorant or the indifferent.” On Mumford’s view, the city is one of the most durable means of communication between generations available to our civilization. Buildings, streets, memorials, and spaces are conceptualized and offered up as a utilitarian infrastructure to future generations. However, they also serve as a reminder to future generations of the values of their builders. If the built environment can become meaningful through the accretion of human activity and sedimentation over time, then cities that seek to impart values to future generations provide a rich site for exploring the ways that these messages are transmitted. Capital cities, by the very nature of their function, present themselves up as the bearers of a nation’s values.

Memorial space, as it is used here, is a particular type of public space and the focus of this excursion into the mnemonic characteristics of Canada’s commemorative landscape. Memorial space is a reverent space that attempts to honor memories that have been deemed valuable and worthy of remembrance by a public. Pierre Nora (1989: 12) refers to these sites of memory as marking “the rituals of a society without ritual.” He believes these sites and practices of memory become sacral locations in a secular society. I argue that these spaces are transformed by commemoration; in turn, they influence interpretations of memorials structures. Indeed, Ottawa’s Sector Plan states,

The nature and quality of urban public life is profoundly affected by a city’s places—the spaces between buildings. These can be thought of as the public rooms and corridors of a city and they are given shape and character by the walls and buildings which enclose and define them. (NCC, 2005: p. 73)

Understanding public space as similar to rooms in a home is useful if only to differentiate between space such as the boundless space of the Canadian Arctic and the bounded space of Canada’s urban environments. Similarly, Ottawa’s urban plans differentiate between nature (boundless space) and open space (bounded space). The space that I am primarily concerned with is given form because of building facades and other built features surrounding even the seemingly undisturbed spaces of the city (e.g. vacant lots). Jane Jacobs (1961) says of buildings that define open space, “They enclose it. They make a definite shape out of the space, so that it appears as an important event in the city scene, a positive feature, rather than a no-account left over” (p. 106). This might be considered an often neglected feature of space as experienced by daily inhabitants. The plaza outside of a complex of federal office buildings and the courtyard of a church embody drastically different meanings because of this peripheral feature. Ottawa’s Sector Plan accounts for this saying, “they also provide much of the immediate and tactile environment which confronts the pedestrian at the ground level” (p. 77). Like public space, memorial space is bound to be shaped by the buildings that enclose it. Because visitors of memorial spaces are acutely aware of the symbolism evoked by memorial structures and their gestures, the characteristics that define these spaces deserve extra scrutiny.

Architectural mnemonics of memorial space

It is popularly accepted that ideas influence architectural form, but those same forms can also influence the ideas of those who experience them. Considering the human tendency to impose order on the world, we might also view the built environment as a physical expression of cognitive activity (Rapoport, 1979). King (1979) argues that the built environment’s

size, appearance, location and form are governed not simply by physical factors (climate, materials or topography) but by a society’s ideas, its forms of economic and social organization, its distribution of resources and authority, its activities, and the beliefs and values. (p. 1)

Most contemporary conflicts surrounding the built environment would seem to support this assertion. The promotion of codes and standards has long been considered tools for dealing with issues of health, safety, and morality that arise from interaction between the built environment and its inhabitants (Ben-Joseph, 2005). If the shaping of the built form can physically keep drinking water lead free, fire contained, and designate separate entrances for men and women, surely it should be able to do symbolic work. Architecture’s ability to convey meaning is not exactly a novel idea. However, it is its ability to instruct and educate the public on specified values that concerns me here. Architecture reveals a great deal about the most mundane aspects of our everyday lives (e.g. hygiene, commerce, diet, etc.). I believe that the sociocultural forces that shape the built environment must also be legible after they are encoded, regardless of our awareness of their presence. Rapoport (1979) believes, “we can obtain insights into the functioning of the built environment as a system of non-verbal communication, with cues which need to be noticed, and understood (and which one then needs to be prepared to obey) by analyzing primitive and vernacular environments” (p. 289). Although Rapoport is primarily concerned with vernacular environments in this excerpt (e.g. homes and folk architecture), he extends a similar treatment to built environments in the context of capital design (Rapoport, 1993). A deeper understanding of the built environment’s ability to transmit values requires us to not only recognize the intentional ways that it communicates but also how our experiences bear upon various interpretations of form.

Just like rhetorical performances are situational and arise from particular historical contexts, meaning is also the product of an audience’s past experiences and milieu. Meaning within the physical environment is influenced by self-reflection and individual interpretations (Lerup, 1977). This point is important because even Rapoport (1982) who advances a useful understanding of architecture as a mnemonic device is clear that this function of architecture is only a part of the picture. Unlike a true mnemonic device that is offered with a clear referent (e.g. Please Excuse My Dear Aunt Sally; or Parenthesis, Exponents, Multiplication, Division, Addition, and Subtraction), architecture is significantly more abstract and requires that an audience educate themselves to utilize mnemonic devices found in architectural characteristics. This is where Lerup’s ideas become important for our understanding. Lerup (1977) views an audience’s interpretation of architecture not as a reaction but, rather, an interaction. This interaction is certainly observable in the aforementioned debates surrounding urban planning. Following these arguments, we can infer that the meaning found in the built environment remains largely a product of an audience’s education. Sonne (2003) believes, “The unique ability of buildings and cities to communicate a message gives them a special role: owing to their potential longevity and their vague formal distinction, they are unsuited for making current or precise statements” (p. 39). The values that the built environment seeks to convey are often blatant when viewing memorials; however, as the representational forms common in the memorials of earlier eras become less and less common (e.g. statues of men riding on horseback), we require new tools for ascertaining the multivalent meaning of form that is found in contemporary commemorative expression (e.g. the polished granite that frames the bottomless waterfalls at the 9/11 Memorial).

It would be incredibly laborious and counter-productive, based on what we know about architecture’s imprecise meaning, to offer a dictionary of sorts for deciphering the built environment. Many of the scholars whom I have already cited have avoided such an approach likely because of its futility. Instead, most have opted to view the built environment as a mnemonic device. Rapoport (1982), who has been influential in popularizing this approach in the architectural field, states, “In its most general terms the environment can then be seen as a teaching medium. Once learned, it becomes a mnemonic device reminding one of appropriate behavior” (p. 68). Just like the stained glass of churches works in conjunction with the sermon to help reinforce the memories that congregants have of stories within the bible, the built environment reinforces the values associated with civic space. The built environment’s mnemonic function is well attested to in ancient cultures. Lamp (2013) suggests that Roman audiences were likely familiar with mnemonic practices used to aid memory and would apply those to their interpretation of the built form in Augustan Rome. Although this might sound like an impressive feat in an age when memories are excessively augmented, Mary Carruthers (1990) and Frances Yates (1966) offer two outstanding treatments of the subject that paint a picture of a world prior to the printing press that necessitated the cultivation of memory through mnemonic techniques.

Since at least Ancient Rome, the art of memory has long used space to help facilitate the memorization of material; however, the ambient quality of space was also a central consideration. Yates (1966) provides a valuable summary of much of this advice from the Antiquities through the Renaissance. As cited by Quintilian in his own treatment of memory, Cicero recommends,

One must employ a large number of places which must be well-lighted, clearly set out in order, at moderate intervals apart, and images which are active, which are sharply defined, unusual, and which have the power of speedily encountering and penetrating the mind.

In this excerpt, the ambient quality of space is highlighted for its ability to “penetrate the mind.” As the ancient texts on memory circulated more widely in the Middle Ages and their influence grew, some teachers expanded upon the ambient character of memory advice. In these texts, solitude and privacy became important factors for aiding memorization. Matthias Martinius says, “And it is obviously better to exercise the memory by night, rather than by day, when silence spreading far and wide aids us, so that the attention is not drawn outward by the senses.” Similarly, Albertus Magnus distinguished between kinds of memory and believed that retreating to “obscurity” facilitated the memorization of spiritual and intellectual material. Beyond lighting and sound, Peter Ramus takes presence into consideration and recommends, “A memory locus which is to contain a memory image must not be larger than a man can reach.” The multi-sensory considerations made for the art of memory are similar to those advanced in Ottawa’s guidelines on commemoration, even though the latter are concerned with the reading of commemorative landscapes instead of the memorization of material.

Reversing the function of the mnemonic device from its role as a memory aid for learners to an instructional tool for readers is not a novel idea. Lamp (2013) refers to systems of memory as being “turned outward.” Apparently, audiences in the Augustan era “possessed the knowledge to construct narratives from their environment” (Lamp, 2013: 34). Similar to ancient teachers of rhetoric advising their students to utilize the architectural forms for proper storage and recollection of memory, these techniques have primed audiences to use physical structures in the same way we use verbal mnemonics (e.g. ROYGBIV). Those who have ever identified a Pizza Hut, KFC, or Taco Bell repurposed as another business solely by its form are familiar with the mnemonic power of architectural form. I argue this is a powerful force for those appreciating memorial structures and this concept is hardly new. I argue that the ambient characteristics of the built environment found in advice from history’s teachers of rhetoric (e.g. lighting and noise) have also been turned outward to assist in the creation of meaning. Along with the symbolic aspects of the built environment that Lamp (2013) covers, the ambient material characteristics of the built environment must also be attended to if we are to understand the built environment’s full capacity for generating meaning.

The ability for the built environment to impress itself upon the imagination of the public requires that the audience has been exposed to the representations referred to through the mnemonic device. It is impossible to recollect what has never been stored in the first place. On this subject, Lamp (2013) observes, “the technique of associating symbols with objects has potential implications for building campaigns and turning the process of memory outward, thereby creating a public memory” (p. 31). This aligns with Lerup’s (1977) understanding of architecture as an interaction between the audience and the built environment. The ambient characteristics of space must be familiar to the audiences that will experience them. The public memory Lamp refers to differs from Halbwachs (1992 [1941]) collective memory in that it operates more like a working memory rather than a shared image of a past. Specifically, Halbwachs’ collective memory makes use of frameworks that enable individuals to collectively recollect the past whereas Lamp’s use of public memory views the artifacts of Augustan Rome as a symbolic resource that required the citizens to participate in public memorization of the meanings behind these artifacts. In addition, Connerton (1989) believes that habit memory is important for making sense of how societies collectively remember. Handshakes and other bodily gestures are what he calls incorporating practices that transmit information across generations through embodied memory. I believe these incorporating practices are crucial for understanding how the ambient characteristics of the built environment are experienced. Repeated interactions with the spatial characteristics of the built environment, or an education of the senses, prepare the audience to interpret the meaning within the mnemonic landscape.

Advancing an architectural mnemonics of memorial space requires an attention not only to the space’s formal features but also an attunement to the ambient characteristics of the built environment. Like ancient teachers of rhetoric advised students to take light and sound into consideration for their studies, contemporary architects and urban planners consider these ambient characteristics as important to aiding memory and preserving the meaning of a city’s landscapes. Turning these ancient memory systems outward enables us to take advantage of a rich tradition of the art of memory and offers insight into how the built environment transmits cultural values. In the next section, I will offer a history of the development of Ottawa’s urban plan so that we may gain a sociocultural vantage point for understanding the ambient characteristics of memorial space that are unique to the city.

The mnemonic function of Canada’s commemorative landscape

Ottawa’s efforts to establish a master plan began in 1893. At the time, Prime Minister Sir Wilfrid Laurier promised “to make the city of Ottawa as attractive as possibly could be; to make it the centre of the intellectual development of this country and above all the Washington of the north” (Gordon, 2002: 30). Over a 50-year period between Frederick G. Todd (1903) plan and Gréber’s 1950 plan, four plans were proposed that were only partially adhered to (Gordon, 2001). Prime Ministers Wilfrid Laurier, Robert Borden, and William Lyon Mackenzie King are all credited for their best efforts to enact a plan suitable to represent Canada’s Capital. First, the Todd (1903) Plan, although less influential than Gréber’s plan in terms of shaping Ottawa, has left a profound mark on the green space set aside for future generations. It was this attention to the natural beauty of Ottawa’s Capital Region that would be echoed in the subsequent plans of Holt and Gréber. Although there was nothing inherently controversial about Todd’s plan, that did not stop it from getting shelved when Robert Borden defeated Prime Minister Laurier in 1913. When Borden’s government took power, Herbert Holt hired Chicago architect, Edward Bennett and Toronto engineer, E. L. Cousins, to devise a new plan for Ottawa (Gordon, 2001). The Holt Report continued where Todd left off in arguing that the character of Ottawa was distinct from Washington. Unfortunately, this plan would never see the light of day and was shelved due to Canada’s involvement in the First World War (Gordon, 2001). Despite its shelving, the plan became influential for the Gréber plan. Finally, at the completion of Second World War, Prime Minister Mackenzie King made a request of the French government to release Jacques Gréber from his duties rebuilding France after the war to help Canada in its search for some architectural definition in the nation’s capital (Gordon, 2001). His plan offers sweeping recommendations for a modest nation. Canada’s Minister of Public Works, Alphonse Fournier, offered that the plan should serve in lieu of a national war memorial (Gréber, 1950). Indeed, Gréber conceptualized his work creating a plan for the city as advancing a city scale commemoration of the sacrifices the nation made during Second World War. Over two decades, Gréber’s plan would transform Ottawa into the modern capital that we know today. The implementation of the Gréber’s plan signaled a national effort to gain the support of Canadian Citizens. Today, the administration of Gréber’s vision and refinements on that vision are handled by the National Capital Commission (NCC).

One unifying thread between Ottawa’s plans is an emphasis on the natural wealth that is found in Canada’s environment. This wealth is not just in its natural resources—although as a lumber town, Ottawa certainly cannot evade that association—rather, its natural beauty lends a particular character to the region. Gréber (1950) states, “A bird’s-eye view of the city leaves the impression that it is wrapped in green” (p. 122). Noting the limited commercial value of Hull and natural areas north of the Ottawa River, The Holt Plan called for the preservation of up to 100,000 acres of land in what is now known as Gatineau Park. This emphasis on the preservation of natural beauty has also found its way into considerations surrounding future commemorations in the capital region. In Canada’s Capital Commemoration Strategic Plan, planners offer Canada’s natural diversity as a point of consideration for future commemorations. The Strategic Plan states,

Although they are not commemorations in the usual sense, the parks mark many of the places that represent the mental image of the country for both indigenous peoples and more recent immigrants and settlers. Many of these landscapes serve as icons of Canadian identity, such as Banff National Park. (NCC, 2006a: 8)

Here, nature is explicitly presented as a unique marker of Canadian identity. Similarly, Charlotte Gray (2016) argues that Canadian painters, specifically Emily Carr, provided an aesthetic that has become unique to Canadians. Namely, this was an aesthetic popularized by the Group of Seven who sought to advance a uniquely Canadian form of painting that highlighted Canada’s natural beauty and depicted the spiritual and psychic connection to the “awesome magnificence of Canadian space” (Gray, 2016: 100). For Gréber (1950), this natural aesthetic was instrumental for the composition of a uniquely Canadian Capital. He observes, “the rugged charm which grips the onlooker and carries him back, in spite of the close proximity of the city, into a past seemingly filled with the calls of the early guides and the gleam of the campfires” (Gréber, 1950: 122). While Emily Carr and the Group of Seven demonstrated their appreciation for nature through fine art, urban planners like Gréber, Todd, and Bennett were determined to help Canadians embody nature through the aid of the built environment. For example, Todd’s vision for Ottawa might be attributed to his internship with Frederick Law Olmsted Sr., who is best known for his work designing New York City’s Central Park (Gordon, 2002). In addition, Bennett was greatly influenced by the City Beautiful Movement that was popular at the time the Holt (1916) Report was presented to the Canadian Government. Setting aside his romanticized depiction of the itinerant settler on the frontier, Gréber’s vision of Canada’s landscape is still one that echoes throughout vernacular and official discourses that articulate this land. Here, I use the term landscape strategically. Clark (2004) states, “Landscape is not the same as land. Land is material, a particular object, while landscape is conceptual” (p. 9). Indeed, it is this conceptual aspect of the Ottawa’s landscapes that enable an entanglement with the ambient characteristics of these spaces. In this section, I will detail some of the specific features of this space that contribute to the mnemonic function of memorial space in Ottawa.

Balancing space

The distinction between natural and open space seems like splitting hairs; however, Gréber viewed these spaces as having drastically different characteristics. Natural space being wild and unkept and open space being space that is maintained and framed by the built environment. For Gréber, natural space or natural beauty was a profit to the capital region and open space was a minimal investment. It might be helpful to consider the maintenance required for both types of space in order to fully appreciate Gréber’s arguments. Advancing an economic argument for these elements of urban design was likely important for a growing industrial city, post Second World War, where land along the Ottawa River could fetch a premium price.

In order to understand how Ottawa utilizes its natural beauty, we must first look at how it has been defined by this characteristic alone. In 1893, when Prime Minister Wilfred Laurier declared his wishes for Ottawa to become “Washington of the North,” it is unlikely he wished to detract from the unique positive characteristics already inherent in the city. The Todd Plan first set out to disabuse its audience of this idea by contrasting Ottawa and Washington’s natural landscapes. Todd (1903) argued,

Considerable [sic] has been said recently about Ottawa being made the “Washington of the North.” Many of the beauties of Washington are certainly well worthy of imitation, but it would be a mistake to copy too closely, even if it were possible, the plans which have proved so successful there, for the location of the two cities is so absolutely different, that what has made the beauty of one, might mar the beauty of the other. Washington stretches over a gently undulating country, Ottawa is broken by steep terraces and picturesque cliffs . . . Thus it is impossible to treat these two cities in the same manner, for a plan which would be ideal for Washington would be ill adapted for Ottawa, whose picturesque situation must obviously form the foundation and key-note of any proposed plans for the future. (pp. 2–3)

For Todd, the natural beauty found in the capital region was instrumental for advancing a plan worthy of a great capital city. The natural beauty that set Ottawa apart from the city that it aspired to be ultimately placed it within the same league as Washington. Inspired by Todd’s initial observations, Gréber (1950) emphasizes in his plan’s conclusion, “Such beauty is a gift from nature and not an extravagance of conception on our part” (p. 290; emphasis in the original). Here, environmental stewardship is advanced as an essential component of Ottawa’s plan. Gréber frames protection of Ottawa’s natural beauty as a profit to the city that does not require government expenditures. Through preservation of this natural wealth, Ottawa defined itself by emphasizing this characteristic. Vale (2008) observes that Ottawa has remained true to this defining picturesque character, and that sets it apart from other capital cities that have opted for an axial approach to capital city planning. For example, L’Enfant’s plan for Washington DC adopts an axial street grid that cuts through conventional city blocks to connect and highlight important points in the capital city. Besides merely being a convenient design orientation, natural beauty as a defining feature of Ottawa offers some unique opportunities for space within the capital region to make contact with and butt up against nature.

The point of contact between nature and the public within Ottawa’s landscape has also been afforded its own unique considerations. The Holt Report and The Todd Plan treat these points of contact between the public and the natural environment with reverence. From the beginning, urban planners sought to bring these spaces to the people rather than the other way around (Holt, 1916). Access was also a concern for Gréber (1950) who believed that the difficult to access shoreline, that was made relatively inaccessible by privately owned residential and industrial land use, was a problem to be reconciled. These concerns have been addressed by various plans issued by the NCC. Documents like Pathway Network for Canada’s Capital Region, LeBreton Flats Pedestrian and Cyclist Plan, and Plan for Canada’s Capital Pedestrian and Bicycle System and Facilities offer a few examples of how the shores of the Ottawa River have been made accessible to the people (NCC, 1984, 2002, 2006b). The sanctified relationship that planners have sought to foster between the public and the natural environment does not stop with recreational pathways. Gréber affords nature its own degree of monumentality. He states, “Monumental structures should be excluded from a land which calls for intimacy. Even the river shore of the wide Ottawa River is not to be excluded from such considerations” (Gréber, 1950: 244). Although one could view this recommendation as a way of depriving monumental structures of the majestic symbolic resources found in Canada’s natural beauty, this could also be viewed as a way of granting commemorative and monumental spaces their deserved solemnity that is sometimes made impossible when contrasted with the ravages of the natural world (e.g. the Ottawa River after a winter melt produces raging rapids with the capacity to drown out one’s thoughts). In this instance, I would argue that monumentality is the consideration of structures that appropriately complement the atmosphere of the memorial space and as a feature augments the capacity of its mnemonic function. For example, placing Canada’s War Memorial on the banks of the Ottawa River would render it small when one is standing in awe of spring’s raging rapids and in solitude during long Canadian winters. Like the noise we experience on a poor phone connection, the natural environment and its often sublime features can become sources of noise detracting from the intended commemoration. Burke (1973) conceives of the sublime as “Some vastness of magnitude, power, or distance, disproportionate to ourselves” (p. 38). This would certainly include the natural features that surround the capital region.

An attention to natural space in Ottawa’s commemorative landscape can be clearly seen along Ottawa’s riverfront. Prior to constructing Canada’s Supreme Court, Ottawa had made plans to clear out private residences west of Parliament Hill (Miguelez, 2015). Between the early years of the 20th century and 1938, dozens of residences were expropriated and their land was set aside for the future Supreme Court and judicial triad. The preservation of these bluffs for large-scale government pavilions (e.g. Canada’s Supreme Court) minimizes the clutter of private development and highlights the natural features of the bluff when viewed from below. For example, Ottawa’s Royal Canadian Naval Monument which is located on Richmond Landing, a peninsula that juts out into the Ottawa River below the Supreme Court Bluff, takes advantage of the natural beauty of the cliffs rising above the river. The preservation of this natural feature through expropriation of private property demonstrates the role that urban planning can play in helping to shape memorial space.

The attention that planners have paid to open space should not be understated because of the sociological role that it was intended to serve. As far back as The Gréber (1950) Plan, even in Canada “where space is abundant,” urbanization was a force that planners sought to tame (pp. 197–198). (This is noteworthy because in recent decades, Canada has become known for its rampant urbanization.) Open space could be considered distinct from natural space in that it must be maintained in order to keep it open. Without maintenance, it would become overgrown and unwelcoming for the public. If natural space represents a profit for the city, open space could be considered an investment. Gréber (1950) says of open spaces:

An essential complement to housing and to the complex activities of modern life is the systematic organization of open spaces, in order that they may best fulfill their regenerative function. Such open spaces should be predicated upon their functional relationship to the classes of population and their activities. They are as necessary to health and welfare as to rest and education, and constitute a capital element in social security. (p. 163)

This concept of providing open spaces as an outlet for the masses so that they may “fulfill their regenerative function” echoes Horkheimer and Adorno (2006). Despite affording open space for their utilitarian role as technology for managing the productive forces of labor, Todd (1903) was one of the first to argue for open spaces in Ottawa because they would provide “rest and recreation for the people in their immediate neighborhood, and to make the city as a whole more beautiful and attractive” (p. 23). As a student of Central Park’s famous architect, Frederick Law Olmsted, Todd’s approach to Ottawa’s open spaces makes complete sense. Rosenfield (1989), who views Central Park from a rhetorical perspective, emphasizes the historical importance of such spaces for cultivating experiences that promoted virtue. He argues that this is accomplished by joining the physical experience of the space with the mental picture of this space in the visitor’s mind. In essence, open space could be considered a type of space that invites the public to engage with it. A well-maintained and centrally located open space is welcoming. Its utility is what enables open space to grant importance to the memorials that it houses while encouraging civic virtues.

I believe it is a combination of the two aforementioned types of spaces that contribute to a memorial space’s individuality. In fact, the Strategic Plan calls for a balance between natural and open space when dealing with memorial space (NCC, 2006a). This balance between natural and open space could be considered one of the central landscaping concerns for the capital region in addition to its role in commemoration. Canada’s Parliament Hill is one of the best examples of a memorial space that balances natural and open space. Its position high upon the cliffs overlooking the Ottawa River is made more impressive by its liberal use of open space that is buffered by a precipitous drop in the rear and an expansive lawn leading to Wellington Street in the front. The statuary that line the cliffs behind Parliament Hill are rendered majestic with their backs to the vast Canadian skies. I would agree that balance is necessary in order to provide memorial space the commemorative solemnity it deserves from natural space and the importance demanded by the commemorative subject afforded by open spaces. Beyond the balance between natural and open space, there is also a focus on other ambient features that are intended to be experienced broadly through an array of senses.

Sensation

While recognizing vision as the sense afforded the greatest primacy in Ottawa’s urban plans allows us the ability to understand the aesthetic role of natural beauty, an acknowledgment of all the senses help us paint a more complete picture of the ambient character of Ottawa’s public spaces. Sound and, more recently, feeling have been included in urban plans as a favored consideration for future planners. In some instances, for example, as it pertains to utilizing Canada’s four-season climate, winds are offered as an element that cannot only offer cooling in the summer but also shift around snow in the winter. Multi-sensory perception becomes a consideration of Ottawa’s design that takes Canada’s climate extremes into account.

From early on, beauty, specifically natural beauty, was a central consideration for the Capital Region’s planners. Gréber (1950) views beauty as an ideal worth fighting for and depicts his work as a “conflict against ugliness and disfigurement . . .” (164, emphasis theirs). In addition, The Holt (1916) Report believed beauty was one of two factors that made a city attractive, the other being its conveniences (e.g. economic, entertainment, and comforts). However, it was The Todd Report’s influence that served to guide the city toward becoming what Gréber would eventually describe as a city “wrapped in green” (NCC, 1984). The creation of parkways for “pleasure driving,” which was initially advocated for in The Todd Plan, encouraged the preservation of natural beauty along their winding routes (e.g. along the Ottawa River and through Gatineau)(p. 16). The importance placed on visual beauty across all three plans and the majority of NCC documents that follow should not be understated. The premium that was afforded for beauty places the visual experience of space as a priority for interpreting their meaning in the capital region.

To convey the importance placed on natural beauty, it is helpful to understand how Gréber argued for beauty’s preservation. Similar to his evaluation of natural space as a profit and open space as a good investment, he also makes an economic argument for the preservation of beauty. Gréber (1950) states,

In urban matters, beauty, if well understood, constitutes an economy, even an investment. Economy can be realized by the preservation of natural elements or by attainment of harmonious expression through the art of composition rather than through ornamentation. If, by its aesthetic merits, composition constitutes the centre of attraction, it adds to the economic assets of the important industry of tourism, and ensures increased values and permanency of character to adjacent lands and developments. Beauty thus conserved or utilized is a sound investment. (p. 243, emphasis theirs)

His willingness to persuade his readers of this point through appeals to their economic concerns marks beauty as a priority in The Gréber Plan. Interestingly enough, Gréber (1950) did not view beauty as something that should be reserved for the privileged few but instead, he considered beauty as a “vital characteristic of the human mind” (p. 243). This can be seen in his disregard for “inconsiderate enterprise” that he depicts as parceling up land making it inaccessible to the public (Gréber, 1950: 154). Here, beauty is framed as a human right instead of a luxury. Most interestingly, Gréber (1950) believed in beauty’s power to “foster the growth of civic spirit, and invite the citizens to become more conscious and proud of their environment . . .” (p. 243). His belief in beauty’s ability to foster civic spirit is rooted in the power of the built environment to instill pride and ownership. Because of the primacy of vision, it is understandable that the visual sense would take priority in the regime of perception coded in Ottawa’s landscape. However, that is not the only sense that has been granted consideration.

Sound is one ambient feature easy to tune out, but its influence over our experience of space is undeniable. Architectural theorist, Malcolm McCullough (2013), believes that silence in the 21st century is a right and cites the historical precedent that views silence as a part of the commons in support of this. Ottawa’s urban planners were also concerned with the sonic character of the capital region. Gréber frames issues of sound in two ways. First, sound is considered to be instrumental for the maintenance of the productive forces of labor. Silence, specifically, was considered to be one of the “efficient factors of regeneration for the tired townsman, of re-education of the masses, and of healthy and restful recreation” (Gréber, 1950: 241). Second, sound is presented as a central consideration for the preservation of spaces for future development. Specifically, environments of verdure and quietness were required for institutions such as “hospitals, houses of refuge, schools, churches, colleges, recreational, sports or cultural centres, cemeteries, etc.” (Gréber, 1950: 228). This particular aspect of sound is of greatest interest for understanding the way sound works to characterize space. Whereas zoning restrictions can work to regulate the daily hustle and bustle of the street outside so that every citizen has access to some regular peace and quiet in their own home, some institutions, by their very nature, require quietness. Because of the peace offered to these spaces, institutions that work to heal the mind, body, and the spirit (e.g. hospitals and churches) and those that encourage the storage and recollection of memories (e.g. schools, cemeteries, etc.) can remain centrally located. Earlier, I mentioned how Martinius advised his students to exercise their memories with the aid of silence (Yates, 1966). This advice is equally important for promoting an adequate head space for contemplation. Visitors to memorial spaces require peaceful locations where they can properly meditate on the meaning of the commemoration, unless of course distraction is part of the effect that the builders were aiming for. I believe that silence as a feature of memorial space is becoming increasingly important because of the cacophony of city life.

In recent years, Canada’s urban planners have begun to shift their thinking about the year-round potential of space in the capital region. The Strategic Plan instructs that all future commemorations should take the four seasons into consideration in their designs so that the climate may be celebrated (NCC, 2006a). The wind and the snow are two features of the four-season climate that are granted importance in the Ottawa Western Core Area: Pedestrians Downtown plan (from hereon referred to as the Western Core Area Plan) and the Sector Plan. These features could both rightfully be considered visual components. For example, the wind helps flags show off their maple leaves and fleur-de-lis. However, we might also reflect on the aural and kinesthetic aspect of wind and snow. The Western Core Area Plan states,

There are three primary objectives when considering wind as a determinant of urban design. The first is to celebrate and take advantage of the benign aspects of wind—to create places where one can feel cooling summer breezes, see the movement of flags, or hear the rustle of the wind through leaves. The second is to ameliorate the malign aspects of wind, to reduce undue buffeting of pedestrians. The third is to control snow accumulations caused by the wind. (NCC, 1985: 114)

Here, wind works its evaporative wonder as it cools and also rustles the leaves on the trees, adding layers on an already lively soundscape of the city. Wind also plays a function in altering the winter landscape through the creation of snowdrifts. By shifting the snow accumulation, wind has the power to influence the movement of pedestrians on walkways and by extension alter their experience of memorial spaces. Ottawa’s Sector Plan urges designers to also factor four-season climate into any commemorative proposals. In this plan, the four-season climate is presented as a positive in that it offers a dynamic and changing relationship between the memorial and its siting courtesy of the ever shifting climate. The Sector Plan provides probably one of the most striking comments on seasonal weather stating, “The presence or absence of foliage, autumn colours, snow cover and ice are Canadian factors and should be first considerations in the design of Canadian memorials” (NCC, 2006a: 19). This embrace of a year-round memorial space is illustrative of the way that Canadians envision themselves. Viewing snow and ice as “Canadian factors” that must be incorporated in commemorative projects acknowledges the inevitability of the inhospitable Canadian winters.

Consideration of the four-season climate is likely borne out of very practical safety concerns that have arisen in the past few decades with the popularization of memorials that encourage visitors to experience and embody their meanings. For example, Ottawa’s Peacekeeping Monument, located between the American Embassy and the National Galleries, prompts visitors to ascend a slope through the memorial while engaging with its interpretive features. Keeping this pathway free of snow enables visitors to engage with this memorial throughout the year. Experiences of these memorial spaces invariably differ for visitors depending on the season that environs the memorial space. These “Canadian factors” surely weigh on each visitor’s interpretation of the memorial within the memorial space regardless of the seasonal conditions.

Besides these practical concerns, consideration of the four-season climate has also enabled some creative uses of memorial space that utilizes “Canadian factors” to recognize Canadian themes. A more recent example can be seen in Lord Stanley’s Gift Monument that features a 20-foot-tall artistic interpretation of the iconic bowl from the original Stanley Cup placed on a surface resembling ice with an ice hockey puck that has been scaled to complement the oversized bowl. For over 100 years, the Stanley Cup has been awarded annually to the winning team of the Stanley Cup Championship. The monument commemorates the original gift of the trophy to the championship series from Canada’s former Governor General, Lord Stanley Preston, in 1893. During the winter months, snow that accumulates around the monument helps to simulate the feeling and appearance of an ice rink for visitors to the memorial who are encouraged to walk through the bowl across the snow covered “ice rink.” Designers who consider the four-season climate help produce memorial spaces that engage the entire body and aid the mnemonic function of memorials.

Another element of the four-season climate is consideration of the low sun during Canadian winters. The Sector Plan describes the potential low sun creates for commemoration stating, “. . . The light conditions can produce quite unique results; the silhouette effect, for instance, can be very dramatic when freestanding memorials are seen against the low winter sun” (NCC, 2006a: 19). The low winter sun can be thought of as a dramatic change in light that makes Canadian memorial space unique. This influences the types of materials sought out for the construction of memorials. For example, light toned materials and structures that offer a contrast with the ground that the memorial sits on are recommendations for effective four-season commemorations. Concerns surrounding the lighting of memorials are no different from those of teachers of rhetoric who advocated for well-lit locations to aid in the storage of memories. Proper illumination of monuments, whether through artificial or natural methods, becomes important for properly honoring the subjects of commemoration and ultimately aiding the public by creating striking images for effective storage of the memory.

Conclusion

Placing memorials in spaces so that they may be engaged with through an entire array of senses not only makes them memorable, but it also honors their subject. The Sector Plan offers, “Most memorials should be designed to permit people to ‘engage’ them—to get close enough to be able to read inscriptions, examine sculptural details and take photographs” (NCC, 2006a: 14). Memorials become fixtures in our travels and daily lives. Placing memorials behind ropes limits their ability to impress upon us and us upon them. In some instances, the NCC (2006a) has deemed it appropriate for children to even play and climb upon memorials. Similarly, memorial spaces become host to ceremonies and official gatherings (NCC, n.d.). Memorial spaces invite us to occupy them and exercise our memories. Oftentimes, it is not enough to merely consider a memory settled once it has been inscribed on the landscape, we must also engage with that memory and “exercise” our own memories.

With Canada’s 150th anniversary of Confederation, a new plan was introduced that tweaked some of the ideas already introduced in the plans outlined above. For example, preservation of national symbols and natural beauty is still a major concern for planners; however, there is a new emphasis on championing Indigenous heritage and framing natural beauty within contemporary terms of environmental sustainability as opposed to mere stewardship. The 2067 plan also begins articulating the importance of recognizing competing identities. It states,

In 2067, the Capital will reflect the social and cultural diversity of Canada, including its regional identities. Through its built form, it will express the rich identity carved over the centuries by successive waves of immigrants who chose Canada as a place to live. It will embody Canada as a welcoming land, and will foster exchanges and the blending of newcomers and long-established settlers who have created a unique flair in the Capital. Canadians from diverse backgrounds will recognize themselves in the symbols and the democratic, cultural and scientific institutions that define Canada as a land of democracy. The Capital will proudly emphasize the place of the provinces and territories in creating a diverse, inclusive and meaningful Canada. (NCC, 2017)

The inclusive nation that is being envisioned by the NCC attempts to offer physical form to the immaterial concept of Canada as a cultural mosaic. Just like The Todd Plan provided vision for the verdant Ottawa we know today and The Gréber Plan helped provide form for that vision, recent plans will also leave their impression on the memorial spaces around the capital region.

As I have attempted to demonstrate, commemorative symbolism is not the only element worthy of our attention, other factors exist that aid our memories. Space, especially urban space including memorial spaces, provides not only ambient characteristics that enable or hinder our memories, they can also become subjects of controversy. Through an exploration of Ottawa and the ideas of its planners, we have already seen certain values emerge, namely a reverence for nature. How this is conveyed through memorial space is significant. The expression of these values helps to characterize the current and future commemorations within these spaces. I have been referring to these characteristics as peripheral or ambient traits within the built environment in an effort to single them out. Hopefully, this has highlighted advice that I believe is often glossed over in the art of memory, especially in the use of mnemonics as a heuristic for reading architectural gestures. Ultimately, I believe that paying attention to these ambient traits ultimately enable us to explore how Canadians experience memorial space.