Ex-Situ. Recreative Hospitality - Jordi Vivaldi
Ex-Situ. Recreative Hospitality - Jordi Vivaldi
Ex-Situ. Recreative Hospitality - Jordi Vivaldi
Recreative Hospitality
Jordi Vivaldi
*Note to reviewers:
The essay was submitted on October 2, 2022 to the call for entries for the
Architecture Writing Prize issued by the Architecture Foundation.
It belongs to Category 3 (Design and the Climate and Biodiversity Emergencies).
The body consists of 498 words.
Ex Situ: Recreative Hospitality 2
The Icelandic city of Höfn is slowly rising above the sea. Almost two centimeters
every year. Some proportionalities are at work: the rising temperatures melt the
neighboring Vatnajökull glacier; the pressure pushing down on the ground
underneath is relieved; the ground bounces back. And there’s more: as the glacier
loses mass, the gravitational effect pulling the sea towards them is lessened and the
water in the port flows away. Where does it go? Far, very far away. Geologists tell us
that the farther away you get from the melting ice block, the more water is
accumulated: for example, at 12,000 kilometers south-west, where the shoreline of
the Marshall Islands thins out.
The port-city of Höfn and the Marshall Islands maintain inverse proportionalities. As
one rises, the other sinks; as one expands, the other contracts; as one dries up, the
other floods. Can we shout Terra Firma? The land is in motion. Sometimes it is
faster than we are: the people living in Höfn or the Marshall Islands may be
displaced, but not because they have gone anywhere; rather because their place
has left them. They have not moved, but they may no longer be on the same site.
Living ex situ is perhaps one of the most significant conditions of our present day.
Involuntary travelers on a journey across unknown ecosystems, we rediscover
ourselves as visitors in our own homelands. Planetary migrants without leaving
home; motionless cruisers, hosts and guests at the same time. Aren’t there
unheard-of forms of hospitality at work here, playing in a terrestrial key?
Hospitality. The Greek xenia: a form of pact, a contract. A quest for openness that
now expands hospitality’s human circumscription to posit it in terms of human and
non-human affiliations. In terms that are certainly biological, organic, but also
mineral or geological, climatic, perhaps even algorithmic or robotic. In terms that are
terrestrial, and thus, circular or circuitous, circulative. Is it possible to conceive
hospitality as a movement working in cycles? A telluric practice that, in its spiraling
motion, may no longer be prescriptive or compassionate, but recreative, that is, both
joyful and variational; the reformulation of hosts and guests on each other’s terms,
the possibility of a second birth through the figure of the foreigner, the telluric
traveler. We are ex-situ. Da capo. Can we design recreative forms of hospitality to
promote new cycles of openness between hosts and guests regardless of their
human or non-human dimensions?
Ex Situ: Recreative Hospitality 3
A quest for being “open to” while remaining in need of being “opened by” is a quest
for integrating while remaining vulnerable, fracturable. For accommodating the
unknown and the unfamiliar, yet without exhaustion, without compression or
comprehension, without empathy and its desire for epistemic occupation. “Being
with” rather than “being as”. Recreation as syntonization and attunement, as
reverberation between outlanders. Hosts and guests; categories in circularity and
circulation, in multiscalar permutation. In tune and in tone. Figures turning around
and turning inside out. Poles dancing and whirling among lands in motion.