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THE PROCESSES OF RURAL ARCHITECTUREFranco Frescura
Since 1727 when Kolbe published his treatise on the Khoikhoi (Kolbe 1727), much has been written on the subject of the indigenous people of southern Africa. A large proportion of this took place during the nineteenth century when travellers, hunters, traders and missionaries initially transversed this region. Understandably the background of these early scribes was anything but architectural and, in consequence, only a small proportion of their accounts was devoted to the description of the built environment. Also, being men of their time, the majority tended to view the local architecture in the context of their own experience and cultural values; few, it seems, considered it from the point of view of indigenous builders, taking into account materials available, physical environment and the socio-economic factors which established the parameters limiting their options. None perceived it to be possessed of a recognizable idiom of land settlement and studied it accordingly. This ground was left for anthropologists to explore from the 1920s onwards (Schapera 1935, Junod 1962, Monnig 1967, and others). Today it is generally recognized that the architecture of any given society cannot be studied in isolation of its socio- economic realities (Oliver 1968). Yet, although there has been a noticeable rise in the number of specialized studies published in recent years on the subject of rural architecture, with a few notable exceptions most still persist in viewing the subject through a filter of western cultural conditioning (Knuffel 1973). It is true that the processes which generate rural architecture are often discussed but somehow the connections between process and product are seldom made, and then, at best, in a tenuous manner. PROCESS AND PRODUCTFor the purpose of this exercise, the word "process" has been defined as the physical means employed in the production of an artifact, and includes the historical, social and economic circumstances surrounding such an event; "product" therefore refers to that finished artifact. A typical example might be the creative output of an artist. Students of the artistic "process" would consider, amongst other things, such contextual factors as social background, economic standing, psychological make-up and the nature of the subject matter; students of "product", on the other hand, might limit their studies to the artist's final output, the aesthetic properties of the pictorial rendition on canvas. It is obvious that an analysis which ignores either process or product, favouring the one ahead of the other, runs the peril of being shallow and mono-dimensional. For this reason this study does not limit itself to either method of analysis but takes a broad view of the subject. It does however attempt to break he chicken-and-egg cycle which has arisen in the field of the arts, centering on the question of precedence between "function" and "aesthetics". In the context of current southern African society this argument is not only of academic interest, for its implications extend to the very heart of racist political ideologies and question the basis of white preconceptions of black regional "ethnicity". REGIONAL STEREOTYPESAlthough events of the Difaqane, between 1822 and 1836, did not play a significant role in the history and development of rural architecture in southern Africa, they are useful for they represent the definite and recognizable end of an epoch in the history of the region. It was a time of irrational warfare, of scattering of large communities, of famine and of hunger. It was also a time which saw the emergence of great leaders and the coalescing of new nations. Naturally enough therefore, the Difaqane also marks the beginning of a new era which, because of the presence of white observers, has been extensively documented virtually from its onset. This means that, during that time, missionaries and other travelers were witness to the displacement of entire clans and the resettlement of whole areas. Their accounts also made frequent reference to the architecture of the people concerned (Broadbent 1865, and others). This has given architectural historians a bench-mark to trace the changes in the local built environment which took place from one generation to the next. As, in many cases, these were accompanied by descriptions of the physical environment, it becomes possible to compare how changes in the local environment manifested themselves in the development of new architectures and methods of construction. The inhabitants of the Lesotho region are a good case in point. Before the 1830s this group consisted of a number of Nguni, Sotho and Tswana-speaking clans, and thus could not lay claim to a collective "cultural" identity (Lye and Murray 1980). It is only since the 1930s that anthropologists began describing them under the collective noun of "South Sotho". The writings of Casalis in 1833, Widdicombe in 1895 and James Walton in 1956 reveal that, after the Difaqane, their domestic architecture underwent at least three major changes over a period of some 120 years. Each change, in its own time and its own turn, was described by observers as being stereotypically "Basotho", leading to the creation, in white literature at any rate, of a "Sotho" architectural style. It must be obvious however that, under these circumstances, the concept of a Sotho stereotype must be erroneous, not only because in this particular case it can be proven that the form of the Sotho dwelling changed over a period of some six generations, but also because these "stylistic" changes are the result of physical and material fluctuations rather than conscious aesthetic and cultural choices. A second case study is that of the Matabele, an Nguni-speaking group who emigrated from northern Natal in 1822. For the next 15 years they migrated through the southern African hinterland, making three stops before ending their journey in western Zimbabwe, where their descendants reside to the present day. Although their travels took them through four different climatic and vegetation zones, and their Nguni customs must have been considerably diluted through the absorption of Sotho-Tswana groups they encountered on the way, they nonetheless clung steadfastly to their "Zulu" dress, weapons and architecture. This was done for reasons of political ideology, at a time when they were attempting to establish a separate and competing "Zulu" identity in the southern African interior. Once the political reasons for maintaining their architecture had been superceded, they abandoned their former building traditions and adopted those of their Shona neighbours in Zimbabwe. These cases make it possible to short-circuit the argument between function and aesthetics and arrive at two broad principles of application:
By extension therefore, it may be concluded that the concept of regional architectures based upon pragmatic considerations of materials available and prevailing physical environment precedes the development or emergence of an architectural stereotype linked to the idea of an "ethnic" or "cultural" identity. This is not to deny the possibility that building stereotypes may exist as part of a group's cultural identity; it is merely to state that such stereotypes are not constants and that they too are subject to change from one generation to the next. THE ARCHITECTURE OF PRAGMATISM The provision of indigenous shelter in southern Africa has always been a pragmatic and highly functional process. For a number of historical reasons, the region's rural economy never entered an industrial stage and although settlements of ten to twenty thousand persons were not uncommon (Holub 1881), these areas never achieved a high degree of urbanization as it is conventionally understood by western society. In fact mobility of domicile has always been a desirable quality of rural settlement for economic (Burchell 1953) and mystical (Schapera 1930) as well as political reasons (Peires 1981). Thus although certain sites are known to have been inhabited over a period of many centuries (Fouche 1937), southern African rural dwellers do not appear to have shared their European counterparts' preoccupation with permanence. This is supported, to a large extent, by indigenous concepts of land ownership and tenure, which differ radically from the European example, being based upon a system of common ownership under the stewardship of a patriarchal or clan head (Davenport and Hunt 1974). This need to maintain mobility of settlement has made rural architecture directly dependant upon its immediate surrounds for its building materials. It is true that at least one group, the Khoikhoi, are known to have made use of dismountable and highly portable dwellings (Burchell 1953). It is also true that certain Nguni groups are known to have transported their dwellings, ready-made, over relatively short distances (Kuper 1963). However the former are a distinct exception to the general rule for the region, while the latter are not reputed to have transplanted themselves in this manner over any great distance. For the remainder, however, their architecture has to derive its materials in the immediate vicinity of a settlement as a matter of necessity. Because it views the natural environment as a ready quarry, obtaining the sticks, the stones, the clay and the grass required from the surrounding countryside, it is a highly functional kind of architecture, using materials according to their natural properties. This has affected, to a large extent, the resolution of some details of construction, such as the treatment of the roof apex and the connection between wall and roof at the eaves. By implication this has also influenced the dwelling form itself, giving rise to specialized details which, in time, have become incorporated into a larger regional stereotype. During the course of current field-work it was found that the creation of stereotypes was based primarily upon the perception of dwelling form rather than upon a detailed understanding of structure. This meant that the outward textures of a dwelling, derived from the use of different building materials, were important contributors to the regional identity of a built environment as were its architectural forms. At the same time it was also discovered that rural communities often had knowledge of the technological processes involved in the construction of dwellings in neighbouring regions. Significantly these were not perceived to be differences in building traditions but variations upon the same theme. The relationship existing between materials, environment and dwelling form is perhaps nowhere better illustrated than in the squatter camps which are located in the vicinity of some of southern Africa's major urban centres. During the course of a previous study which included communities in the western Cape, the Durban-Pietermaritzburg area, Thaba 'Nchu and the Winterveld near Pretoria (Frescura 1982), it was found that increased competition for building resources had brought about a uniform style of architecture. Interestingly, it was noted that although the building technologies used were an adaptation of the region's rural know-how, in many cases the builders were not newly migrated rural workers but were second and third generation urban residents who had not as yet been catered for in official housing programs (Haarhoff 1982). This was supported indirectly by data obtained in the western Cape which indicated showed that a virtual absence of natural found building materials in this region had forced squatters of both urban and rural origins to seek the necessary materials from the consumer society about them. As a result they used its cast-offs to create dwellings from sheets of corrugated iron, wall and ceiling insulation from newspapers and printer's waste, door mats from milk trays, and gardens from empty food cans. Despite obvious differences in their socio-economic backgrounds, both urban and rural groups had come to the same pragmatic conclusions regarding their habitat and shared in a common dwelling form built out of a common technology forced upon them by local conditions. The degree of inventiveness shown by squatter communities in taking common objects out of their familiar context and adapting them to fulfill new functions, successfully demonstrated a common ability to grasp the fundamental nature and properties of materials when faced with the economic realities of their situation (Frescura 1982). THE ECOLOGY OF THE RURAL DWELLINGOne of the attractions of vernacular architecture lies in its seeming ability seemingly to merge with, and become part of, its immediate environs. Whilst such aesthetics are undoubtedly part of its charms, they are also an outward manifestation of yet another important aspect of the rural habitat: the fact that the dwelling is part of a delicate environmental balance at the level of both an individual unit, and at the larger scale of regional settlement. Historically the southern African rural dwelling has been built predominantly out of saplings or timbers, clay, grass and cow dung. Depending upon the region, stone rubble and shales have also been used in wall construction while natural lime has been found to be a good soil stabilizer. However, being natural materials, these have also tended to provide a home to a variety of insects, lizards and other small fauna which can subsist alongside, or even in spite of, people. This has led to the dwelling developing an internal balance of its own, with the family and their activities providing a check to the infestation of their environment. A good example is the building of a fire in the dwelling for both heating and cooking functions. This is generally the case for both cooking and sleeping units although, quite often in the latter's case, it is only the hot coals which are brought in within a small brazier. The smoke from these fires is allowed to rise and percolate through the thatched grass roof, thus effectively fumigating it and discouraging vermin infestation. To a certain extent this process must also be assumed to be effective where clay walls are concerned. Should, for any reason, the owners of a dwelling decide to change its roof and replace the grass with zinc sheeting, they will no longer be able to use an open fire within it without the assistance of a smoke flue (Frescura 1981). As in the majority of cases the flue has not found popular application in the region's architecture, it is likely that the residents will cease to build internal fires in that dwelling thus terminating the fumigation process. One of the probable results of this action will be that they will need to introduce cement into the construction in order to reduce, or eliminate, infestation. Once this switch has been made, the family is also likely to reduce its maintenance efforts by using cement in the floor finish. However cement floors are hard and cold to sleep on and therefore customary mats will be replaced by European-style furniture. This implies that a transition will also be made from a local craft-based manufacturing economy to an externally based cash-using society. However modern furniture joinery is normally based upon lines of 90° geometry. Circular floor plans are thus difficult to furnish and it is probable that the introduction of industrially produced furniture will also entail a change in the floor plan from the circular to the square, thereby also forcing changes upon the roof technology. It is obvious that few individual farmers would ever undergo such a sequence of changes in their personal life-styles. This chain of events therefore was built up from information obtained from a variety of unrelated sources. Also the breakdown in rural building practices need not begin necessarily with the termination of the fumigation process. The purchase of furniture would often be sufficient stimulus to bring about a change in the dwelling's floor plan, while in other recorded cases the cycle was broken when the family, tired of the constant maintenance work required on the floor, replaced it with cement. The re-plastering of the floor is a necessary process for whilst the walls and roof may be successfully maintained by fumigation, the former needs to be recoated regularly every seven to ten days or, at the most, within a fortnight. The material used is normally a mixture of clay and cow dung, called daka, which produces a warm, yielding and clean surface. Another important factor is the role played by the dwelling within the larger environmental cycle of rural birth, life and death. As has been established, rural builders draw upon the natural environment for a variety of raw materials. These are given validity within their habitat, but once their function ceases the dwelling is allowed to decay and, in time, its components will return to their primary state. This means that some materials, such as soil, are not lost to the community but are returned for reuse at a later stage. Unfortunately this cycle could be easily interfered with by the introduction of soil-stabilizing agents. Although their use could potentially lead to the development of a cheap and more permanent indigenous architecture, their indiscriminate use could also bring about the creation of large quantities of equally permanent and unusable rubble. THE ECOLOGY OF RURAL SETTLEMENTThe ecological balance achieved between the settlement of rural man and nature is a complex one, being influenced by such factors as social custom, land ownership rights and historically-derived agrarian practices. For the purposes of this chapter it is proposed to only give a brief resume of the issues involved. In the past, when rural dwellers considered a site for a new homestead, their choice was influenced by a number of factors. These had primarily to do with an availability of resources, such as potable water and building materials, but other elements, such as ground slope, drainage, orientation and aspect, were also held to be important. In previous times elevation and defense were also considered, but these have tended to be ignored more recently. Perhaps the most critical of all these factors was an availability of agricultural land in the immediate vicinity of the settlement. The rural homestead is part of a self-sustaining economy which relies upon the fruits of the soil as a major source of food. Although farmers were also pastoralists, cattle were regarded primarily as a source of wealth to be used in the process of obtaining brides for the family unit. The economic usufruct of cattle was limited to the use of their milk, but even so cattle were not bred for their milk-producing capacity and very little deliberate cattle breeding appears to have occurred. When the slaughter of an animal did take place, it was usually for ritual purposes, and then the whole community partook of the meat and no attempt was made at its storage or preservation. Although this may outwardly appear to be a pragmatic course of events based upon the inability of pre-industrial society to store its meat in hot climes for prolonged periods of time, the cooperative nature of rural economy makes it difficult for it to occur otherwise. The principle of sharing resources, as well as work, is fundamental to rural philosophy. In exactly the same manner that the fruits of the harvest are made available to the community, so the slaughter of a beast also involves the distribution of meat according to a pre-established code of etiquette. During previous eras, agricultural activity was distributed across four types of ground:
Families were usually allocated planting lands in all three soil zones while pasturage was held in common. This made it possible to plant a variety of crops, some vegetables being more suitable to one kind of soil than others. It also acted as a form of insurance against the vagaries of the weather. Generally loam soils were considered to give a good crop in an average year; sandy soil crops prospered in wet seasons when the over-wet clay would have allowed the seed to rot; and clay soil crops fared well in the drier years when the clay retained moisture better than the well-drained soils. During the course of current field work, it was suggested by some informants that three wives were considered an optimum number in the composition of a rural family. The first or Head Wife bore the family heir and was usually the result of an arranged marriage; the second wife might be brought into the family at the instigation of the Head Wife, who felt she needed assistance in fulfilling her workload; and the third wife, usually considered to be the youngest and prettiest, was the result of a love-match (Mfeka, pers comm). One conclusion is that the number of adults in an extended family unit is linked to the functional aspects of its agrarian activities, leaving the husband in charge of animal husbandry whilst each of the three consorts had charge of one of the family's planting fields. It was also assumed that, in this instance, informants were making reference to an historical ideal. Few polygamous homesteads were recorded during the course of this study and a survey of historical accounts during the last century reveals that even then polygamy was limited to a wealthy elite, usually the community leaders and their advisors (Lichtenstein 1812). This also ignores the autonomy enjoyed by women within many rural groups, where individual wives were usually granted planting lands in all three soil areas (Monnig 1967). A family's planting lands could be located up to 40km from each other. Any discussion on the links between human settlement and agricultural land should be read in a historical context, and not as a reflection of current conditions. Since 1913, when the first Land Act was promulgated, establishing the so-called "Native Reserves" the pattern of rural agriculture has undergone radical change (Davenport and Hunt 1974). A lack of suitable pasturage has brought about a reduction in the number of cattle, and has therefore increased rural poverty. This has been accompanied by a rising population within the confines of relatively small rural areas, leading to the impoverishment of planting land and the loss of large tracts of formerly fertile fields. Therefore a new factor has now emerged in the question of rural settlement: that of rural overpopulation. Pictorial records of the Zululand countryside just over a century ago show a landscape littered with small homesteads (Illustrated London News and The Graphic 1879). Their location, far from being haphazard, appears to have been subject to some form of distancing determined by the amount of pasturage needed to feed the cattle of a homestead of given size. Cattle were not a source of food, but rather acted as an indicator of wealth and patronage. Being linked to the lobola system, cattle were a visible sign of a clan's ability to expand and create political links with other clans. A clan with few cattle was of little political import; one rich in cattle was a desirable ally, to be courted and sought. Thus the powerful clans needed more grazing land, and consequently more agricultural land, also. As a result the size of the cattle byre in a settlement plan becomes an indicator of its residents' level of political influence and their relative status in the micro-economic system of their region. Aerial photographs of the Buffelshoek 471IQ area (Frescura 1981) on the Vredefort Ring, near Parys, show that, during the mid-eighteenth century, Sotho/Tswana groups also followed a similar, if closer, grouping of homesteads. Both would appear to indicate the application, in human settlement, of what Ardrey has called a "territorial imperative" (Ardrey 1967). The establishment of such an imperative is conditioned by the natural resources which a settlement needs to control in order to survive as a rural production unit. This means that the amount of land required cannot be easily quantified and may change from region to region, from climate to climate, and from economy to economy. It may also vary within the history of a settlement, as its size and population numbers fluctuate. Thus, in the case of settlement in the arid regions of the northern Cape and Botswana, a scarcity of resources has forced the inhabitants into larger villages centering upon an availability of potable water. These are generally large, comprising of numerous clusters of homesteads, often located at considerable distances from each other. This differs from the coastal belt, where an availability of water has permitted the growth of smaller and more scattered kinship units spaced at relatively close intervals to each other. This has given rise to a number of interesting variations in marriage customs, kinship distributions, and hence settlement patterns, between the two groups. Similarly, the amount of land required to provide food for a group surviving under a hunter/gatherer economy will be greater in area than that required to feed a community of equivalent size living in a pastoral/agrarian system. The first requires land bearing roots and berries, which are often seasonal, and carrying game, which is usually migratory. The second makes more intensive use of land available to it and although a migratory pattern based upon an availability of grazing is often adopted, their farming activities are normally of a more sedentary nature. As a result, the settlements of a hunter/gatherer community will generally tend to be temporary, those of agrarian pastoralists will be of a more permanent nature. A rural production unit will also generate a certain amount of waste, partly of a natural, partly of a manufactured nature, which have to be processed and absorbed by nature. Some, like those thrown onto a midden, are incorporated into the rural cycle of life where farm animals contribute to the removal of food scraps and roll in the spent ashes as a means of controlling ticks. Others, like human wastes, are left to decompose organically and are simply absorbed into the soil. In recent times there has been a rising incidence in southern Africa of large scale rural, semi-urban settlements in such places as Acornhoek, Bushbuckridge, Melelane, Thaba 'Nchu, Mabopane and Dennilton, to name but a few. These towns are endowed with few social amenities and virtually no supporting physical infrastructure. In such areas many historically-held concepts of "homestead" have fallen by the wayside and the control of land for agricultural purposes has been overtaken by a need for residential space. The competition for building resources has also forced rural builders into modifying rural technologies in order to provide themselves with housing of an acceptable standard. Despite a lack of fresh water and waste removal facilities, many communities have generally met with a remarkably high degree of success. However, in other areas, population densities have reached such concentrations that natural processes have not been able to keep up with the inflow of waste materials, resulting in the pollution of their water resources. The outbreaks of cholera experienced in the central and western Transvaal during the summer of 1981-1982 must be attributed directly to an overburdening of rural land by human settlements having near-urban densities, but little infrastructure (Frescura 1983). A COMMUNITY OF BUILDERSThe concept of a vernacular architecture is also closely linked to the social processes of rural society. The construction of a dwelling is considered to be more than the mere provision of shelter; in many ways it acts as an opportunity for the community to collaborate together on a project, turning what is an outwardly social occasion into a display of solidarity between the larger group as a whole and the individual family. This not only tends to reinforce the rural sense of identity but, in architectural terms, it brings the individual family's dwelling in line with the community's norms, both in its construction and its aesthetics. The symbolism of this act is important. Historically, rural society has always placed a strong emphasis upon role playing and task fulfillment. This creates a strong awareness in individuals of their role in society and their personal contributions to its survival as a production unit. Anti-social behaviour is quickly identified and corrected and peer group pressure plays an important role in suppressing deviancy from the group's norms. This contrasts sharply with modern western urban society where a sense of identity is often associated with deviancy from its norms and, in some instances, is actually promoted and even applauded. In a sense therefore southern African rural society may be perceived to encourage self-identity through participation in group activities and, unlike western society where originality of style in domestic architecture is seen as a desirable statement of self, the former uses group participation as a means of ensuring norm conformance by its individual members. The differences between urban and rural residents, therefore, may be seen to center upon their individual perceptions of their own basic economic and social units. In western urban society the lowest common social denominator is the nuclear monogamous family, whose members may participate in the economic activities of the larger community, but generally need not exercise a direct control upon resources, or the processes of production, in order to ensure their economic survival. The southern African rural social unit, on the other hand, is the extended and potentially polygamous family which historically has depended upon a continued control of both natural resources and independent means of production in order to secure its economic well-being. The first has developed a concept of "home" which currently emphasizes the residence of the individual family, and commonly expects that its progeny will move off, often before marriage takes place, to establish core groups of their own. This process of fission therefore lays stress upon the individual as a potentially independent economic unit able to exist apart from the larger family group. In contrast, the southern African rural community views the habitat as the abode of the larger group, within which individual members are given residence in commensuration with their age, gender and status. Fission within the group can, and often does, take place for social and economic reasons, but the individual is not expected to leave before marriage and, in many cases, is encouraged to take up residence within the parent settlement after it has taken place. Where schisms do occur within the larger community, the split is usually physical, and symbolic and social links are often retained between the parts. The retention of such connections is part of a mechanism for reinforcing the status of the individual family within the larger community which emphasizes the place of the individual within the group, as well as the roles of economic collaboration and interdependence existing between the two. The participation of the group in the provision of shelter for the individual family also provides a valuable insight into the attitudes and values of the rural community. By elevating building to the level of a group activity, it has been placed alongside other communal functions such as harvesting and defense, thus, in a sense, recognizing its importance as an element of rural survival. Rural construction must also be seen in the context of the processes of interaction existing between gender and age groups in agrarian society. All members of the community are considered to have a role to play in the building of a dwelling. In some groups the young may weave grass ropes in the evenings under the guidance of their elders whilst listening to folk tales and singing memory-training songs; women will be out collecting thatching grass and, later, will build and plaster the clay walls; the men will seek out the best building timbers, make the structure and thatch the roof. Although the division of labour between genders must, at one time, have been strongly defined, this separation has tended to disappear in more recent times, due largely to the prolonged absence of men, absent in the urban areas as migrant workers. In many cases this has forced women into fulfilling some of the tasks previously allocated to men in the provision of shelter. Moreover, the traditional division of building tasks between genders is not always constant from region to region. For example one group may assign the task of thatching to women while another may reserve the construction of the entire roof for the men. The impact that the absence of any one particular member of the family unit may have upon the final built product is difficult to assess. Certainly, among some groups, an absence of courtyard walls may denote the home of a newly married couple, of a childless wife, or of a single male. Among the Pedi of Sekhukhuneland, failure to marry is considered to be an antisocial act and although not directly punishable, it may be subject to a measure of social sanction. A bachelor would be treated as a "young boy" for as long as that condition was maintained, and would be prevented from taking his place at gatherings of the men, thus effectively depriving him of full political rights (Monnig 1967). He would also not be accorded the courtesy of the community's assistance in the construction of his dwelling. PRODUCER vs CONSUMERPerhaps one of the more relevant lessons provided by rural architecture lies in the economics of its production. At a time when many countries in the developing world are beginning to look to self-help methods as a means of resolving their local housing problems, the rural built environment offers the dynamics which may make such programs viable. Among the first to point this out was Amos Rapoport who, writing in a different context in 1969, saw the vernacular as the link existing between what he termed "primitive" and "high style" architectures. Rapoport's model uses socio-economic terms of reference to describe the processes of architecture at three levels of society: agrarian, pre-industrial and modern. Although the distinctions he makes are somewhat too general to be entirely applicable in the southern African context, the relationships which he described are nonetheless still valid. By extending his model it becomes possible to divide the vernacular architecture of the region into a number of interlinked stages. Because of the difficulties involved in creating hierarchies and stereotypes based upon housing technology, these phases have been based upon a range of economic activities and the kind of architectures that each gives rise to. This does not mean to say that any one community can only be described in terms of one specific mode of production. A farming pastoralist group, for example, may have hunter-gatherer, migrant pastoralist, craft and trading functions in its economic make-up. Each one of these activities however will be typified by particular attitudes and sets of values towards the structures needed to house them, giving rise in each case to dwelling types which will become identifiable as belonging to a particular aspect of economic life.
In a larger sense this analysis is concerned with the relationship existing, in the building process, between producer and consumer. In a rural economy the two roles are generally incorporated in the same person. The client, who more often than not is also the builder, has an intimate knowledge of the building process and is aware of the type, style and form of the structure which is being erected. By way of contrast, virtually all building activity in urban areas is in the hands of specialist craftsmen. In some cases this is also enforced by legislation. Clients have no hand in and usually even no knowledge of the building process; and unless wealthy enough to be able to employ the services of a specialist designer, they will have only the most superficial of choices in the aesthetics of their dwellings. Often the structure will be purchased already completed much like an appliance at a retail store. Rural architecture short-cuts the relationship established in modern urban society between consumer and producer. Because it uses locally available materials, incorporating them into a highly functional structure and employing the cheapest labour possible, that of the client, it is both a functional and an economic way of building. It therefore offers a solution to at least some of the problems which beset the current provision of housing in the developing world, where the choice most often is not between a pretty house and an ugly house, but between having a house and no house at all. BIBLIOGRAPHYARDREY, Robert. 1967. The Territorial Imperative. London: Collins.
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