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If
beauty is the splendor of the true, as Plato tells us, then
a new space for the true has been created in the center of
our city. A space for the soul has opened up. What image
comes to mind when you think of the soul of the city? I am
tempted to tell you to stop reading at this point and go
experience the Nasher Sculpture Center. Immerse yourself in
its garden and permit its image to touch your depths before
it stirs the surface. The center itself is a beautiful
sculpture created from an exceedingly ugly parking lot that
once scarred a block-long stretch next to the Dallas Museum
of Art. With apologies to Joni Mitchell, “they’ve created
paradise and ruined a parking lot.” From within the garden
at the Nasher, one looks out at the city as from the womb,
about to be born, to engage all the life the city has to
offer. It is truly one of the most beautiful places from
which to view Dallas.
What does this new creation have to do with our task as
psychotherapists? Step into the garden, walk down the
gentle grade toward the north. As you move away from the
building you will gradually descend into a garden surrounded
by icons of twentieth century sculpture and a wonderful
gleaming space created by the Dallas skyline. Renzo Piano
2, the architect, tells us he wanted to “steal
this piece of land from its normal destiny.” He “amiably
regards the site as being in the ‘mess’ of the city.” The
garden is slightly excavated to be below street level,
“imbuing the site with an archaeological ambience.”
Parallel travertine walls run north and south for a block
and set the garden off from the rest of the city. The
Tuscan-quarried stone has been treated “to reveal what Piano
calls the stone’s ‘vibrating’ texture.” He sees the walls as
“preexisting, as though they were remnants of an ancient
building or temple, a noble ruin extant in the middle of the
busy downtown. This allusion [illusion] to the past
reinforces the Nasher as a special site, distinct from the
surrounding shiny newness of the Dallas urban environment.
Piano imagined the garden, not as a paradise on Earth, but
as a place enriched by the turmoil of the city. It, in turn,
would reinvigorate the city.”
Psychotherapy for Winnicott provides the space in which to
find and create again the self-experience that we have lost.3
It is our task to help create a space with patients within
which they can discover something for themselves. Winnicott
warns that, “Interpretation outside the ripeness of the
material is indoctrination and produces compliance.” Renzo
Piano has a similar caution about “style”. He says, “…style
signifies both a narcissistic attitude and a dangerous
concept, because you end up imposing your stamp before you
understand what is the reality of the place.” Over a number
of years Raymond Nasher with Renzo Piano and Peter Walker,
the landscape architect, patiently played with a number of
different designs before they arrived at the present
configuration. Their imaginative thought processes were
placed in a dialectical tension with the reality of the
space, creating a fit, much as we do when we create an
interpretation together with our patients. They have created
a space that imaginatively engages the lost parts of
ourselves.
How
do we create this space in the therapy hour? Winnicott
explains “Psychotherapy takes place in the overlap of two
areas of playing, that of the patient and that of the
therapist.”4 We must be able to create a
potential space in which to play. Therapy requires two
people able to use this potential space. Ogden5
describes a common scene that illustrates the creation of a
potential space: A frightened two-and-a-half year-old tenses
up and clings to his mother resisting his bath. She spies
some tiny cups and saucers among the bath toys and says, “I
would like some tea.” He shifts from his tense insistent
pleas of, “My not like bath,” to a narrative of his play,
“Tea not too hot. My blow on it for you.” His mother has
some tea and the illusion created by their play provides a
space in which his bath can now occur.
As
we descend into the archeological past with our patients, we
help them to play, we create a potential space, placing
their past in a dialectical tension with the present, we
create a play space where only fear and ugliness existed
before. We don’t leave the reality of their lives, but we
create a space that reinvigorates them within the mess of
their city.
So
visit the Nasher, enjoy its beauty, allow it to reinvigorate
you as you reflect on the interplay of the spaces between
mother and infant, therapist and patient, lover and beloved,
citizens and their culture, and the human community and the
transcendent.6 Go expecting an experience of
poesy7, a process in which something is called
into existence, which was not there before. You won’t be
disappointed.
Endnotes
1
Gaston Bachelard, (1964).
2
All quotations concerning the conception of the Nasher
Sculpture Center are from a superb piece by Mark
Thistlethwaite entitled “The Art of Designing the Nasher
Sculpture Center” in the catalogue published on the occasion
of the Center’s opening: Nasher Sculpture Center
Handbook, Edited by Steven A. Nash, the Center’s
director, 2003.
3 Winicott in
Playing and Reality, (1971), p. 51. and Ulanov in
Finding Space (2001), p.125.
4 Playing and
Reality, p. 38.
5 Ogden, (1990).
On Potential Space.
6 Ulanov, p.147.
7 Poesy is a
seldom-used word that refers to the inspiration involved in
composing poetry. Its more archaic form is poiesis,
which comes from the Greek meaning to create. We get poem
and pharmacopoeia from the same root. Murray Cox
applies the idea of poesy to the art of doing psychotherapy.
It is our job as therapists to create with the patient a
potential space where we can call into existence something
that was not there before. This creative act resonates with
the creation story in Genesis. The Earth is described as
“tohu va bohu”, “without form and void”, sometimes
translated as chaos. When therapy works well, the chaos our
patient brings is poetically transformed into a bountiful
new creation. Murray Cox and Alice Theilgaard in Mutative
metaphors in psychotherapy. London: Tavistock (1987).
References
Bachelard, G. (1964). Poetics of space: A classic look
at how we experience intimate places. New York: Beacon
Press.
Cox,
M. & Theilgaard, A. (1987). Mutative metaphors in
psychotherapy: The Aeolian mode. London: Tavistock.
Ogden,
T. (1990). On potential space, chapter in Matrix of the
mind. Northvale, NJ: Aronson.
Thistlethwaite, M. (2003). The art of designing the Nasher
sculpture center. In Steven A. Nash (Ed). Nasher
Sculpture Center Handbook.Dallas, Texas: Nasher
Sculpture Center.
Ulanov,
A. B. (2001). Finding space: Winnicott, God, and psychic
reality Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox
Press.
Winicott,
D. W. (1971.) Playing and Reality. London: Tavistock
*****
Dale C. Godby, PhD
www.dgapractice.com
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