Where today we tend to split things down into smaller and smaller groups and parts, it seems that in Greece (we’re talking before current era Greece), there was no definitive distinction between art and craft. Instead it was all technē, which relied on and was developed through empirical experience, cultural memory, and strategies to circumvent limitations. A helpful model to think about is apprenticeship, although it’s not 100% the same as what we might conceive of as apprenticeship today. Parcell provides a list of technē occupations including, “…profits, healers, legislators, builders, minstrels, carpenters, blacksmiths, potters, acrobats, cooks, navigators, and horse trainers” (p. 22). That is quite a diverse list, and does not seem to carry any commonalities between disciplines at first glance. The underlying work of technē is to shape natural substances into a different form for human use. Looking at the list of occupations through that lens results in three categories of work (as identified by Parcell):

1. physical object
2. performance
3. altered condition

Considering the work as shaping natural substances for human use, and the three categories of occupations within the larger concept of technē we can see that it does not in fact include any kind of intellectual and/or manual labour (such as agriculture). Parcell also goes on to describe a necessary relationship between technē and mētis as a form of practical intelligence to use minimal effort to achieve of goal.

Much of the chapter is dedicated to describing the occupation and work of the architekton, which is about as close to an architect as we will get in the context of the chapter. As mentioned earlier, there was not really a distinction between art and craft, and that plays a role here for the architekton (chief – builder). This person would still have the ability and experience necessary to do building tasks themselves, but have moved into a position of ‘chief’ and therefore their role moves more to directing the work of other builders. They carry with them the relevant cultural knowledge, experience, and develop strategies to overcome challenges, and use all of this intellect to direct others.It’s worth mentioning here that the focus of the work were large public structures, rather than on individual houses which could be completed by tektons without direction.

The toolset is a bit different from what we have come to see from modern architects and some designers though. The anagrapheus was a full scale flat template that included extruded details of the structure being built. The second tool, the paradeigma, was a full scale volumetric sample of more complex forms, and in some cases would actually become part of the building. What’s interesting in both of these cases to me is the “full scale” aspect of these tools. While being trained in manual and computer assisted drafting, one of the very first things we learned was about scaling our work as a representation of the object. In many contexts now, there are intermediate steps between the ideal (design) and the material (built). You see this even in the language that’s been popularized by certain design companies such as “ideation”, “prototyping”, etc. What’s fascinating about the technē approach is the full scale and inclusion of the models/designs into the real piece, beginning in the material, and staying in the material.

Finally, I found Parcell’s description of the purpose or goal of the work of technē. As described, they seemed more interested in the use of the product within the context of their particular client’s use case, rather than in the product itself. It seems straight forward, but consider for a moment what is sitting in your living room or office right now. Have you ever purchased an object and had to bend it to your specific application? Have you used an object for something other than its implied intended purpose? I suspect a lot of design currently focuses on the product, even though “human centered” design is pretty common speak these days. What makes the technē distinct from how human centered design is portrayed is that each individual product, while it similar to other products produced, is individualized to the specific client. The goes against methods of mass production which tend to remove individuality from pieces in order to make interchangeable objects and components.

By directing technē toward patron’s abilities, rather than the product, the artisan had to respond strategically. Technē therefore may be characterized as the choice of a path; the making (poiēsis) of a product was merely an intermediate step in the larger domain of technē…’In effect, the manufactured object, like living creatures, is subject to final causes. Its perfection lives in its adaptation to the need for which it has been produced’ (p. 28).

Currently, this has me wondering a bit about the reflections of architecture as technē are still reflected in Western architecture, design in general, and instructional design in particular. What have we kept? What have we rejected? And what are the ramifications of keeping/losing those aspects of design’s cultural memory.

“Columns of the Propylaea” by godaveman is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0