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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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