Indirect lighting in Contemplative Spaces – an Endless Depth

This paper explores the relationship between indirect lighting and contemplative spaces. Through an examination of notable architectural works, the study identifies a consistent preference for hidden light sources in contemplative spaces across various religions and eras. The research begins by defining the fundamental aspects of contemplation and its correlation with architecture. This is followed by a bibliographic survey of indirectly illuminated contemplative spaces. Within this investigation, three approaches to understanding these spaces are considered. Firstly, the conceptual ideas that architects sought to infuse into their creations; secondly, sensory descriptions provided by experts aimed at elucidating the luminous atmospheres of these locations. Lastly, the study delves into these diverse themes through the lens of phenomenology, highlighting perceptual peculiarities such as the predominance of sight, the significance of peripheral stimuli, and hapticity. This offers insights into the relationship between specific attributes of indirect lighting and transcendental architectural experiences. The consistent suggestion of perceiving endless depth in contemplative spaces prompts a brief discussion on the essence of our perception of depth. This study underscores light’s significance as a tool to connect with architectural spaces, transforming them into realms of imagination and awe.


Introduction
Delving into the observation of contemplative spaces, I noticed the inherent connection between them and indirect lighting solutions.Through the study of various significant architectural works, I discovered numerous instances of churches (e.g.St. Moritz Church, 2013, Germany), chapels (e.g.St Henry's Ecumenical Art Chapel, 2005, Finland), cathedrals (e.g.Gloucester Cathedral, 11th century, England), temples (e.g.Jambukeswarar Temple, 600 BC, India), mosques (e.g.Sancaklar Mosque, 2011, Turkey), and other spiritual spaces from different eras that are illuminated indirectly, concealing the light source.This reveals a consistent trend transcending various religions and periods, implying a timeless preference among architects in designing these types of buildings.In a more contemporary context, as we will explore in subsequent chapters through clear examples, prominent modern architects propose a close relationship between this type of illumination and contemplative spaces.This connection extends beyond the realm of symbolism and religious connotations.
These observations lead me to the main questions that will guide this investigation: -What are the main characteristics of contemplation, and how do they manifest in architectural experiences?-How does indirect lighting impact and contribute to the creation of contemplative states in this type of environment?

Contemplation
The etymology of the word "contemplate" dates back to Latin, more precisely to the word Templum, which means "a piece of ground consecrated for the taking of auspices, or a building for worship" [1] -an origin that inspires reflection by presenting a direct connection between spiritual and architectural notions.
In a religious context, the practice of contemplation seeks a direct awareness of the divine which transcends the intellect.There are numerous historical references within various religions to such metaphysical experiences, and for the purposes of this paper it is pertinent to list some of the defining characteristics: Spacelessness, timelessness, selflessness, boundlessness, radiance of our fundamental nature, mystical condition, something greater than oneself, union with God, transcendence, pure consciousness, absence of thought, absence of space, time and body awareness, ecstasy, transcending the subtlest level of mental activity, mental silence, trance state, cessation of mental activity, oblivious to external and internal environmental stimuli, no-end, pleasant, peaceful state of mind, all-oneness, bliss, expanded consciousness, letting go, benevolent disregard, non-thought, non-duality.[2] And it is in seeking to encompass these concepts that the German theologian and philosopher from the early 20th century, R. Otto, introduced the term "numinous" to describe a profound emotional experience present in all religions.Also describing that darkness, silence, and emptiness are among the methods that evoke the numinous experience.[3, p.228] Beyond the religious realm, it is interesting to highlight that these types of transcendental experiences have been studied since the beginning of philosophy as we know it.For Plato himself, contemplation was an integral part of his philosophy.He believed that through contemplation, one can access the knowledge of the form of the good or other divine forms.[4] As I have already proposed in the introduction, the last millennia of human history inspire us with breathtaking architectural projects that encourage these contemplative states, "in which physical characteristics turn into metaphysically charged feelings of transcendental reality and spiritual meanings" [3, p.19] says Architect Juhani Pallasmaa, presenting to us spaces that go beyond purely religious ones, unleashing experiences that "arise from the experimental holiness of life itself and a deep existential recognition of one's own being".[5, p.21] Some modern architects have emphasized the importance of these metaphysical aspects, seeking to define and reference these intangible qualities through their language, philosophy, and work.Louis Kahn (2008, p.14), for example, viewed these qualities as the "unmeasurable" and believed that great works of art are born from this realm.LeCorbusier, inspired by his visit to the Parthenon, described these qualities as the "ineffable", an inexpressible and emotionally sensed experience with boundless depth.[3] And it is by exploring these transcendental aspects, that they have been able to incorporate these qualities into their own work, surpassing the physical and reaching into the metaphysical essence of space.
It is concluded from this chapter that the interpretation of these states of the individual -active subjects of contemplation-may be approached from different angles, whether they are defined as mystical, philosophical, psychological, or artistic.The reaction of the subjects will be imbued with all these elements that are difficult to define but which are evidently present in spaces that transport them beyond their limits.

Indirect Lighting in Contemplative Architecture
Because of the historic relevance -of ancestral nature-that contemplative spaces propose, we will focus this chapter on the lighting that has been there through all of the human process of evolution, and that, evidently, is of great importance for our understanding of the world: Daylight.

Indirect Lighting: a definition
There are different types of indirect lighting.In fact, if we understand it from the strictest sense of the word, every perceived light enters our eyes indirectly; for it to be visible it must first hit, or go through, some form of matter [6].As we can see, the definition of this lighting tool, that is part of the specific terminology commonly used in the lighting design field, has vague limits.Where the only certainty defined by the Society of Light and Lighting is that indirect lighting is achieved when the light reaches the space "via a number of inter-reflections on the room surfaces".[7] In studies carried out by Rockcastle and Andersen -through meticulous perceptive analyses of daylight in contemporary architecture-we find a categorization of different types of illumination.The result of their studies is a matrix of seventy-five examples divided into fifteen categories.[8] At the same time, the general aspects of each category are compressed in an abstract way to create a single representative space for each of them.[8, p.37] Rockcastle and Andersen mention that many of the religious spaces fell in the second half of the matrix under the two categories: "Partially Direct and Partially Indirect" and "Spatial Indirect".This observation leads this study to focus especially on these two categories [8, p.32].Adding that, because of the number of contemplative buildings that belong to the category "Surface Indirect", it will be also kept as being on the limit of the relevant cases.Now that we have established the typology of illuminated spaces on which this study is based, we will define the main characteristics of these spaces and the implications of these characteristics on contemplative states.

The Phenomena
To achieve a deeper understanding of the relationship between indirect light and contemplative spaces, we need to approach the qualities of this type of illumination from a sensitive and perceptual perspective, that can allow us to shed light on aspects that go beyond quantifiable and measurable aspects.To accomplish this, I will conduct a bibliographic survey that will explore three fronts: -The concepts and ideologies behind the architects responsible for these spaces, seeking to understand the ideas they sought to convey to their works and how they connect with the world of lighting design.-Written descriptions of human experiences within these spaces, such as those by Professor Henry Plummer, winner of the Daylight Award for his sensitive writings and research on light, as well as other magazines and books dedicated to architecture, lighting and perception.-Contrasting these aspects with philosophical concepts, more specifically related to the phenomenological current of perception, which will approach the essence of these transcendental experiences.For a clearer understanding, the bibliographical survey will be divided in subcategories that bring together the most relevant aspects that define these illuminated spaces, and aim to collect the main characteristics of the intersection between Indirect lighting and Contemplative spaces.

4.2.1.
No-View.Firstly, through the observation of the works included in these categories, we notice that the openings that let the sunlight in have a particular quality: they do not provide a glance at the exterior.
In modern design where the trend promotes extensive use of windows with views, the absence of external visual access is often considered a flaw.Mexican architect Luis Barragan believes that large plate windows strip buildings of intimacy, shadow, and atmosphere, leading to a loss of privacy and a sense of living a public life away from home [9, p.51].In the same direction, Pallasmaa adds that the window has lost its role as a mediator between the interior and exterior worlds, boundaries that are crucial as they bridge the external world with our consciousness, shaping our understanding of space [10, p.8].An important point is evoked by emphasizing the feeling of privacy.This is especially relevant in contemplative spaces, where human beings seek to delve into aspects related to their inner selves, exploring the depths of their psyche and soul; therefore, a sense of comfort and security is required.[3, p.46] Buildings like the St. Ignatius Chapel (United States, 1997) (Figure 1), designed by Steven Holl, present a space where light is channelled through a huge puzzle immersed in the structure and slides softly and mysteriously to the inside, "a caressing, breathing, and healing light that connects us with the constantly changing nature of daylight and its cosmic ambience" [5, p.26].These thoughts are directly linked to the ones of Holl himself.
According to him "architecture can define fluid movement by determining daytime and nighttime viscosities of light and shadow... style and form at some point disappear..." [11, p.227] Another good example with these characteristics is Zumthor's Vals Thermae (Switzerland, 1996), where we see a space that presents channels that surround it, creating high contrast and a flow.A space that feels intimate, accompanied by a feeling of freedom.Zumthor describes it as a medium to wander, a state of mind that has to do less with directing people but more with seducing them.[12, p.60] 4.2.2.Carved Architecture.As we can appreciate in the last examples, this type of lighting solution canalizes the light through architecture, creating carvings that are intended to act as optical instruments that distribute and carry the light through the space.
This is an aspect clearly noticeable in the ideas of Japanese architect Tadao Ando, who says about his own work that "the severely built openings caught the movement of light with precision.Space was carved…by a line of light that pierced the darkness, its appearance altered with each successive moment" [13, p.353].Making us understand how by this specific type of illumination also darkness can be achieved.These are ideas that have a clear connection with those from architect Louis Kahn, who believed that "even a space intended to be dark should have just enough light from some mysterious opening to tell us how dark it really is."It is clear at this point that our perception goes beyond the walls that limit the space: something that is created in our mind through a series of signs that our surrounding provides but that does not correspond to a direct association but rather to our capacity for imagination."Something is never merely enclosed into its borders.It gives off heat like an oven and cold like ice." states the artist zur Lippe.[15, p.144]In this direction, French philosopher Gaston Bachelard claims that inside and outside are an absolutism, where an object or concept is either in or out, 'here' or 'there'.He argues that both inside and outside depend upon one another and that is the only way they can preserve their identities, where our own imagination proposes a revision of their boundaries [16, p.226-231].
According to Plummer, architect Juha Ilmari Leiviskä highlights certain qualities of natural light within his designs, specifically noting the ephemeral nature of their illumination.The writer adds that this light connects us with time and a reality that exists "beyond Men, towards something infinite, and eternal" [12, p.151].Descriptions that do not only blur the limits of our body but also give a body to the architectural space, as Pallasmaa says: "Natural Light, with its ethereal variety of change, fundamentally orchestrates the intestines of architecture".[5, p.26]When studying one of Leiviskä's works, the Church of the Good Shepherd (Finland, 2002) (Figure 3), Plummer notes that within these spaces of profound whiteness, the luminous fragmented elements transcend their fragmented perception.This leads to a harmonious integration with the surrounding space, reestablishing the fundamental connection between humanity and nature [12, p.18].Adding that these factors transport us to calm moments, settling down our internal rhythms and putting us in a contemplative mood [12, p.68].
Additionally, the author describes that the intervening vertical elements within the space gain varying degrees of illumination, creating multiple levels of emptiness, light, and shadows, evoking an infinite sensation similar to a forest, where the mind can endlessly explore [12, p.144].These concepts echo Bachelard's ideas about the vastness of the forest, where, he says, one feels the apprehensive sensation of delving deeper into a boundless realm, surpassing the shroud of trees to create a psychologically transcendent enigma.Arguing that there is something more to be expressed besides the objective description of this experience-"what should be expressed is hidden grandeur, depth."[16, p.203].

Directionality.
When analysing the descriptions of these spaces, we understand that this type of indirect lighting solution often imparts a sense of directionality to the perceived experience.This directionality emerges, on one hand, as a possibility of movement, defining our behaviour in the space.For instance, in the case of the Kiasma Museum of Contemporary Art (Finland, 1998), its architect, Steven Holl, states that "when moving through space, with a twist and turn of the head, mysteries of gradually unfolding fields of overlapping perspectives are charged with a range of light-from steep shadows of bright sun to the translucence of dusk".[11, p.278] On another hand, this directionality extends itself as a sensation beyond our physical capabilities.For example, in the case of the Dybaer Church (Denmark, 2005), by Regnbuen Architects, the horizontal channel on the ceiling behind the altar catches a larger amount of light, looking brighter and "marking the holiest point in the church… making a vertical link with the heavens," describes Plummer.[12, p.36].  4) by Jorn Utzon, where the bright "upcurving vaults lift the eye and appear to hover free of the earth, imparting celestial mood.Emphasizing this levitation is the detachment of vaults by the skylit aisles".[12, p.56]About which Utzon itself states: "the light in the corridors provides almost the same feel as the light experienced in the mountains during a sunny day in winter, making these elongated spaces happy places in which to walk." [17, p.22] Or, alternatively perceivable, in a different manner, at the Church of Enghoj (Denmark, 1994) designed by Henning Larsen.The walls of concrete, touched by light entering through the ceiling's perimeter, allow us to slide into the immensity of the sky.Simultaneously, they connect us to the force of gravity that keeps us within this never-ending tunnel.[12, p.176]As we see from these descriptions, these types of luminous solutions can trigger outstanding feelings, but there are not particularly placed in the focal point of the visitor.On the contrary, they spread extensively to the peripheral part of the visual field.And it is precisely this stimulus of the peripheral vision that can transport us to a world that is less rational, somehow less physical, and can grant us a blurred vision of our surroundings, connecting us to it in a less conscious way, enveloping us in the world, blurring depth and distance, and allowing for a more participatory and empathetic gaze.[9] 4.2.5.Diffuse Light.As a characteristic of indirect light, it is noteworthy how, in many of these spaces, the light, upon reflecting off various surfaces before reaching the interior of the space, acquires an especially diffused quality, forming a significant bond with encountered materials and surfaces.A diffused light that can provide both a dark space where, as we have seen, it spreads faintly, as well as white luminous spaces that acquire heavenly characteristics when lighted with soft gradients.
Architect Alvar Aalto, for example, developed a curvaceous sfumato in which light gradually shades, creating softened outlines and hazy forms.Specifically, in the Riola Parish Church (Italy, 1978) (Figure 5), we can appreciate how Aalto manages to escape physical form by making the space look blurry, where "light is sprayed onto vaults from three scalloped monitors, casting an array of imprecise tones that seem airbrushed on, veiling the church in a dreaminess that is free, in part, of any solid object".[12, p.179] 4.2.6.Thingness of Light.When writing about these spaces where openings have the main task of letting the light in, without allowing a visual of the exterior, Corrodi and Spechtenhauser claim that "materiality could emerge in tangible sensuousness".[18, p.85]When we look, for example, at the already mentioned St Ignatius chapel (Figure 1), we see how the light passes through a series of carved, indirect figures that diffuse it and grant it characteristics of the surfaces it passes through, paradoxically heightening "both the immateriality and materiality of light".[5, p.26]These characteristics are also evident in the spaces created by Alvar Aalto, where the daylight arrangements frequently reflect light into curved white surfaces.This results in light taking on qualities of being material and malleable, with a heightened sense of presence.Additionally, it acquires distinct characteristics like weight, temperature, and tactile qualities, appearing as a moulded and slowed-down light that feels like matter.[5, p.26]And in this sense, it's worth mentioning the importance of touch for many philosophers within the phenomenological movement, for whom "the world touches us and we touch the world, primarily through the medium of light."[9, p.45] Ideas that go even a step further in architectural works like Luis Barragan's Capuchin Convent Chapel.(Mexico, 1952) where light turns into a warm, coloured liquid that even suggests sonorous qualities invoking an imaginary humming sound.[19] 4.2.7.Silence.The idea of atmospheric silence is studied, mentioned, and elaborated upon by the vast majority of the architects and philosophers mentioned in this chapter.
As an outstanding example, it is interesting to see how in the Baumschulenweg Crematorium (Germany, 2000) (Figure 6), architects Schultes and Frank set out a monumental forest of concrete columns that join the ceiling through holes that let the light through in an almost mysterious way, providing the space with a silence that grants it a transcendental power.[20, p.196]A concept that can be further understood by mentioning some of the thoughts of the many architects that have been already mentioned in this research: -Juhani Pallasmaa: "transcending architecture fundamentally necessitates the assistance of light and silence, phenomena that raise our ontological, existential, and spiritual sensibilities."[5, p.11]In architectonic experiences, silence eliminates surrounding noise, directing our awareness inward to our own mystic existence [9, p.55] -Peter Zumthor describes this beautiful silence of buildings as something that is not related to its aesthetics or to what it represents, but to its attributes like "composure, self-evidence, durability, presence and integrity".In his mind, it is about a "building that is being itself, being a building, not representing anything, just being".[21, p.32] -Louis I. Kahn: develops the idea of silence as part of the unmeasurable of architecture, a silence that is capable of providing the space with a particular spirituality, a silence that "is not very, very quiet.It is something that you may say is lightless, darkless."[22, p.20] -Tadao Ando: claims to believe that architecture should not speak too much."It should remain silent and let nature in the guise of sunlight and wind speak…They activate space, make us aware of the season, and nurture within us a finer sensitivity."[13, p.196] -Steven Holl: "A building speaks through the silence of perception orchestrated by light.
Luminosity is as integral to its spatial experience as porosity is integral to urban experience."[23] -In Henry Plummer: the atmospheric silence is achieved when the forms calm down and surfaces and materials are reduced, generating a necessary simplicity for the buildings to transcend their own physical limitations.[20, p.178]And it is through these ideas that we begin to reflect on contemplation not as something that lasts an instant, but as a serene process where calmness and slow appreciation reign.
In this chapter, I described how these spaces demand a perceptual sensitivity that allows us to define certain qualities of them which are not particularly measurable.An aspect that leaves us considering how, as professionals, this type of description is necessary to encompass certain elements that aren't so specific but add great value to the spaces we design.Next, a brief immersion into the world of art will allow us to further develop these ideas.

Discussion: An Endless Depth
Many authors describe how these spaces break the boundaries, take infinite dimensions and evolve beyond their physical limits.Philosopher Merleau-Ponty argues that it is a mistake to conceive depth perception as an issue regarding distances in space; that the look from a God's eye perspective does not belong to us, since Depth can only be experienced from where the individual is standing.He argues that we must rediscover what spatial perception is, moving away from the traditional way of addressing this topic, to be able to elucidate the true relation between subject and object [24, p.299].Claiming that it is this re-interpretation of depth that is the key that will allow us to understand how we experience space, since it "forces us to reject the preconceived notion of the world and rediscover the primordial experience from which it springs: it is, so to speak, the most existential of all dimensions, because it is not impressed upon the object itself, it quite clearly belongs to the perspective and not to things.Therefore, it cannot either be extracted from, or even put into that perspective by consciousness" [24, p,298].He proposes to understand depth rather as a "lived distance", that binds us to things which count and exist for us, and links them to each other.A distance that measures the 'scope' of our life at every moment [24, p,333].
In turn, it is interesting to refer to Bachelard's thoughts, who argues that since immensity "is not an object, a phenomenology of immense would refer us directly to our imagining consciousness" [16, p.202].To further present us the notions on this paradoxical approach to infinity, he quotes a passage of the poet Oscar Milosz, in which the author beautifully describes this transgression of limits: "As I stood in contemplation of the garden of the wonders of space, I had the feeling that I was looking into the ultimate depths, the most secret region of my own being.…Away with the boundaries, those enemies of horizons!Let genuine distance appear!….Everything was bathed in light, gentleness and wisdom; in the unreal air, distance beckoned to distance.My love enveloped the universe."[16, p.207]

Conclusion
This paper explores the connection between indirect lighting and contemplative architecture that is observed from an anthropological perspective.The study of this link has led to the identification of certain aspects that, on one hand, define themselves as characteristics of this type of illumination, and on the other, are those that in some way imbue these spaces with transcendental qualities.Within these spaces, light enters through channels created by cuts in the architecture, becoming a fundamental element of the perceived space.The interior space unfolds allowing the gaze to extend beyond walls, breaking boundaries and transcending its own physical limits.The lack of visual connection with the exterior can create an effect even more impressive than the view itself.It is as if the absence becomes present in our minds, triggering imagination and memories.The ephemeral light entering through these openings provides a glimpse to the outside, connecting us with the passage of time and our own ephemerality.These openings illuminate in a subtle manner, where not everything is immediately comprehensible.They also disperse stimuli in our peripheral sight, enveloping us in a softer, more blurred environment.These luminous elements provide a diffuse light, capable of creating a high contrast with the most mysterious darkness or a gentle spectrum of celestial whiteness, granting these spaces the necessary intimacy for contemplative states without introducing unnecessary elements or noise.On the contrary, they foster tranquillity and silence that transport us to realms resonating more with our subconscious than with physical boundaries.As light moulds and flows through these openings, it adopts the characteristics of the materials it reflects upon.It becomes diffuse, acquiring attributes typical of matter: weight, colour, temperature.Additionally, light gains volume, filling empty spaces in various forms, sometimes even becoming the space itself.Some spaces present a similarity to the endless depths of a forest, and others present endless depths that connect us with the gravitational forces -spaces that lead us to immerse ourselves in the earth, leap towards the universe, escape towards the horizon, or stretch out like waves towards infinity.As individuals contemplate the vastness of these spaces extending beyond their physical confines, they create a medium for interpretation and metaphors.Ultimately, this can elevate their experiences to extraordinary levels of consciousness, turning awareness inward to their own mystic existence.
And this is how, starting from a specific link in the field of lighting design, fundamental characteristics of spaces have been uncovered, delving into various aspects of this connection.These aspects shown not to be limited solely to the realm of contemplative spaces, but also tug at strings related to our sensitivity, not only as beings who perceive, but also as those who design the spaces we inhabit.

Limitations
The intention of this study is not to create a formula for illuminating contemplative spaces, nor to define indirect light as the only means to achieve these states.Instead, it aims to mention intrinsic characteristics of these experiences that are often overlooked in the realm of lighting design, yet they offer insights into issues inherent to our nature and our relationship to architecture and its illumination.It serves as a homage to daylight and the sophisticated management of it within architectural spaces.It involves a descriptive challenge where merely using lighting terminology is insufficient, going beyond the realm of lighting, urging us to step outside our comfort zone and witness the synergies that light and architecture can create when combined.
[14].Also in this direction, Plummer notes in reference to the St. Hallvard Church (Norway, 1966) (Figure2), designed by architects Lund & Slaatto, that through the subtlest touch of light, this dimly enigmatic place defies our grasp, "transcending both sight and comprehension, while projecting a nocturnal, gestative image-a threshold for new emergence."[12,p.231].Understanding these great architectural spaces almost as living organisms, in which there is a "constant deep breathing of shadow and light; shadow inhales and illumination exhales light"[9, p.51].

Figure 3 . 6 A
Figure 3. Church of the Good Shepherd, J. Leiviskä