26
AR 2016.1 Ljubljana
Od zAČAsneGA k stAlneMu: JAvnO ŽAlOvAnJe in 
ArhitekturA prOstOrOv spOMinA
FrOM teMpOrArY tO perMAnent: public MOurninG And the 
Architecture OF MeMOriAl spAces
Key wordsKljučne besede
Izvleček Abstract
UKD 725.94
COBISS 1.02
Prejeto 25.08.2016
memorials; trauma; spontaneous 
mourning; attachment; appropriation 
How do we commemorate recent atrocities? 
In most cases, in the aftermath of  tragic 
events, public mourning takes place - usually 
displayed through numerous objects left at 
the spot. If  the event is considered to be of  
national interest, it is most likely that official 
plans for building a permanent memorial 
will take place. Since temporary memorials 
or so-called grassroots memorials are 
perceived as a form of  democracy in action, 
they raise a range of  critical questions 
for those commissioning and building 
permanent official markers for places of  
tragedy. One premise is that contemporary 
memorials, among other tasks, offer a space 
where individuals can make sense of  loss 
and deal with conflicting emotions. In 
reality, however, most memorials fail to 
perform this function since the needs of  
the public collide with their architectural 
solutions. Through a brief  investigation 
of  several contemporary memorials, 
this paper aims to highlight approaches 
commissioners and designers adopt in 
regard to public sentiments and the process 
of  transformation from spontaneous 
mourning to the built structure. 
Kako se soočamo z nedavnimi 
žalostnimi dogodki? 
Kako jih obeležimo v prostoru?
V mnogo primerih po tragičnih 
dogodkih se javno žalovanje izvaja na 
mestu tragičnega dogodka. V primeru, 
da je dogodek nacionalnega pomena, 
bo na tem mestu postavljeno obeležje. 
Manifestacija žalovanja javnost izraža 
v izgradnji spominskega obeležja 
in prostora žalovanja. Ob teh, pa 
obstajajo še začasni, spontani prostori 
žalovanja, ki so predhodni označevalci 
spominskih parkov in obeležij spomina. 
Spontani prostori žalovanja so znak 
neposredne demokracije.  Stalni 
prostori so formalizirani, podrejeni 
administrativnemu urejanju prostorskega 
oblikovanja in v mnogih primerih 
neustrezno nadomestijo prvotni 
sporočilni pomen prostora. Prispevek 
predstavlja kratek pregled izbranih 
sodobnih obeležij.
dr. ir. sabina tanović
Department of  History, Architecture and Built Environment, 
Delft University of  Technology 
tanovic.sabina@gmail.com 
prostor spomina; spomeniki; spontano 
žalovanje; navezanost; prisvojitev 
prostora
AR 2016.1From temporary to permanent: public mourning and the architecture of memorial spaces
27
"Architecture’s role is not to create strong 
foreground figures or feelings, but to establish 
frames of  perception and horizons of  
understanding."
[Pallasmaa, 2000: 31]
1. Introduction
How to commemorate atrocities is 
an urgent question that resonates 
with the recent terrorist attacks in 
France and Belgium. The public feels 
the victims should be acknowledged, 
the perpetrators should be brought 
to justice, and the world should be 
united in the interpretation of  what 
exactly happened and who is to 
blame. To set all this in stone, we call 
for a memorial of  some sort: a place 
where survivors, victims, and their 
loved ones can gather together for 
support and commemoration, and 
where they might find solace; but 
also a place to remind society of  what 
happened and how important  it is to 
prevent it from ever happening again. 
In most cases, after a tragic event 
happens, public mourning takes place 
- usually displayed through numerous 
objects, such as flowers and images, 
left at the spot. These temporary 
memorials or so-called grassroots 
memorials are one of  the most 
common impromptu expressions of  
grief  on sites of  trauma and tragedy. 
The importance of  spontaneous 
memorials in contemporary culture 
has been widely recognized both in 
their political dimension and their 
non-institutionalized character. 
Their essentially material existence 
signifies the process of  mourning 
and intimates the relationship with 
the deceased in the public space. By 
placing objects or any other kind 
of  signification, people instinctively 
designate a place as the place for 
mourning and thereby appropriate 
the space. In this way, on a symbolic 
level, people establish a connection 
with the dead and the place becomes a 
"spontaneous shrine" [Santino, 2006]. 
Contrary to official monuments and 
memorials, spontaneous memorials 
are, according to art historian Harriet 
Senie, a form of  "democracy in 
action" [Senie, 1999]. As such, they 
raise a range of  critical questions for 
those commissioning and building 
permanent official markers for places 
of  tragedy. It is not uncommon 
that spontaneous personal gestures 
collide with official commemorative 
edifices, which results in removal of  
the spontaneous shrines within a very 
short period of  time. In other cases, 
the public mourning is recognized 
by an official initiative to design a 
permanent memorial or monument, 
while public offerings are archived 
or stored. what to do with all the 
material that accumulated through 
public mourning is often a difficult 
question for the authorities Regardless 
of  the intricate process of  creating a 
memorial structure, there is a pivotal 
figure in the translation process from 
sentiment to memorial that can be 
singled out - the architect or designer. 
They are usually commissioned by 
governments or other authorities to 
produce a structure that satisfies all 
parties involved. Given the highly 
specific nature of  memorials, the 
difficulty of  representing contested 
interpretations of  traumatic events, 
and the rarity of  such commissions, 
architects and designers as a rule 
do not receive much training in the 
peculiarities of  memorial design and, 
hence, tend to rely more or less heavily 
on tacit knowledge. They typically have 
little experience with or knowledge 
of  the psychology of  mourning, and 
often operate under assumptions 
that deserve closer scrutiny, such as 
the idea that memorials can assist 
in the healing process of  survivors. 
Through an analysis of  several 
cases where spontaneous public 
mourning was transformed into 
permanent architectural forms, this 
paper aims to highlight the process 
of  transformation from spontaneous 
mourning to the built structure by 
posing a question: to what extent 
and in what ways is public mourning 
invited in contemporary memorial 
designs?
2. Understanding public mourning
Places of  tragic events that are 
transformed through material objects 
have been labelled as performative 
commemoratives, since they "display 
death in the heart of  social life" 
[Santino, 1992]. They represent what 
cemeteries used to represent before 
the 19th century, when they were still 
part of  the inner city and therefore of  
everyday public life. when cemeteries 
and mourning became more private 
and intimate, spontaneous memorials 
emerged as a cultural phenomenon. 
Some argue that the current practice 
of  spontaneous mourning originated 
in the 1980’s, more precisely with the 
death of  John Lennon. Today, we can 
witness outbursts of  public mourning 
all over the world: it has become a 
common practice.
The concept of  public mourning 
echoes a model of  action-orientated 
mourning proposed by clinical 
psychologists. This model is based 
on several defined steps that the 
bereaved has to undertake in order to 
be able to cope with and adjust to the 
absence created by a specific physical 
or psycho-social loss. One of  the 
stages includes ‘readjustment to move 
adaptively into the new world without 
forgetting the old’ [Rando, 2000]. 
It involves revising the assumptive 
world,1 developing a new relationship 
with the deceased, adopting new 
ways of  being in the world, and, 
finally, forming a new identity. Also, 
there is a question of  reinvestment 
of  the emotional energy that was 
once invested in the relationship with 
the deceased. The bereaved need to 
manage the transition by focusing on 
other people, objects, pursuits, and 
so forth. In this fundamental process 
of  transformation, the survivor can 
be helped in several ways, but the 
underlying strategy is the recognition 
of  the many challenges the bereaved 
person has encountered by. 
″...looking beyond the actuality of  the loss to 
another level of  loss, one that transcends the 
literal impact of  the missing person and the 
loss of  their part in the life of  survivor″ 
[Beder, 2005: 258]
In relation to this theory, the 
importance of  materiality, for example 
the materiality of  the body in burial 
ceremonies, has been underlined time 
and again. If  there is a material point 
of  reference the bereaved are able to 
visit, then the process of  mourning 
can be performed in a more defined 
framework. In this way, mourners can 
receive support and a much needed 
platform where they can revise the 
assumptive world. Furthermore, 
a person dealing with trauma can 
experience emotions of  anger and 
abandonment, which need to be 
acknowledged and overcome by the 
development of  new relationships 
with objects and people. Spatial 
environments can help in the transition 
from anger to acceptance.
AR 2016.1 dr. ir. Sabina Tanović
28
Hence, from a psychological point of  
view and concerning the immediacy 
of  their occurrence, spontaneous 
memorials can be recognized as 
material objects with a communicative 
value that help the transition from grief  
to mourning. Corresponding with 
a theory on transitional experience 
widely adopted in children psychology, 
these objects can be perceived as a 
transitional medium that direct the 
bereaved from the abrupt painful 
feeling toward healing and acceptance 
[winnicott, 1982]. In addition, Senie 
stressed that the flourishing of  
spontaneous memorials and grieving 
in public is related to the apparent 
need of  having a private loss publicly 
acknowledged [Senie, 2003]. They 
are a relevant factor of  social agency 
or even social change, since they 
inherently contain protest and indicate 
other feelings besides grief. Once the 
spontaneous expression of  grief  loses 
its immediacy, the mourning continues, 
expressed in more or less the same way 
but with diminished frequency. In a way, 
it transforms into a ritual similar to that 
of  visiting a graveyard. Obviously, not 
all public expressions are welcomed, 
particularly if  they result in vandalism 
or even the demolition of  a monument 
or a memorial. Even though there are 
cases where designers do invite a more 
aggressive kind of  public interaction, 
in most memorials these are not 
welcomed. For example, the Memorial 
to the Murdered Jews of  Europe in 
Berlin, the official German Holocaust 
memorial, provoked contentious 
debates about the anti-graffiti solutions 
applied on its surface. Here interaction 
with the public is encouraged on a 
physical level, but even this has proven 
to be problematic as the site turns into 
a popular playground.
3. The memorial as a space in 
need of  appropriation
The commonly accepted assumption, 
reinforced by two extensively 
commemorated world wars and to some 
extent confirmed by academic research, 
is that a memorial is capable of  serving 
many purposes. Its mere existence 
is thought to be able to help victims 
and survivors cope. It re-establishes 
normality: even those who are under 
serious threat are in need of  erecting a 
commemorative structure. It creates 
a material framework that is expected 
to positively influence the processes 
of  mourning and healing. A memorial 
is thought to aid in constructing or 
reaffirming individual and collective 
identities. It serves to educate the general 
public and offers information and insight 
that might forestall future atrocities. 
Finally, its presence within a society 
offers a point of  reference, a political 
platform from which to address relevant 
issues related to the traumatic event.
Once built, however, a memorial often 
does not live up to the expectations. 
The victims and survivors might not 
identify with the result, it attracts vandals, 
it causes social controversy and polarizes 
potentially disruptive debates, or it is 
hijacked by various parties to serve political 
objectives. Even though contemporary 
memorials aim to be objective and to 
avoid favouring one version of  events 
over others, a number of problems arise 
as a result of  the inherently political 
nature of  the memorial. The significant 
proliferation of memorials and memorial 
museums after 1985 is also indicative of  
the importance assigned to the spaces 
of  commemoration in contemporary 
society, in which memories are 
mediated through global networks of  
communication.
Slika 1: 11M obeležje, postaja Atocha, Madrid (2007), 
FAM Arquictetura y Urbanismo SLP. Podzemni 
prostor v katerem so sporočila nastala ob spontanem 
žalovanju. Sporočila so vtisnjena v notranjosti stolpa.
Figure 1: 11M memorial, Atocha station, Madrid 
(2007), FAM Arquictetura y Urbanismo SLP, 
Architects.Underground space with the messages 
from spontaneous mourning inscribed in the inner 
body of  the cylinder (photograph by the Author). 
AR 2016.1From temporary to permanent: public mourning and the architecture of memorial spaces
29
Having all this in mind, public 
mourning is yet another aspect the 
makers of  contemporary memorials 
have to take into account. One 
premise is that contemporary design 
concepts dealing with loss and grief  
should aim to create a space for 
specific collective and private rituals 
of  mourning. Hence a memorial 
becomes a transitional environment, 
a holding space that is expected to 
create a safe realm for individuals 
who need to make sense of  loss and 
deal with conflicting emotions. In 
reality, however, most memorials fail 
to perform this function, as is the case 
with the 11M memorial at Atocha 
station in Madrid. The extensive 
outburst of  public mourning that 
occurred after the 2004 terror attacks 
on Madrid overtook the space of  
Atocha station. As the collection of  
candles, dried flowers, messages and 
other objects started to become an 
obstacle, in June 2004 "cybershrines" 
known as Espacios de Palabras 
were installed at the entrances of  
Atocha and El Pozo stations, so 
that people could leave messages of  
condolence in an electronic form 
until a permanent memorial was 
built. These ‘video walls’ attracted a 
wide audience of  people interested 
in leaving messages of  condolence, 
and were therefore recognized as 
powerful instruments of  living 
memory, whose meaning was shared 
and instantly understood. Following 
the installation of  these temporary 
shrines, many argued that the new 
permanent memorials might never 
achieve the same effect in engaging the 
public.2 within three years from the 
attacks a memorial was inaugurated, 
and all the public offerings were 
collected and archived.3 In a two-
partite composition, an underground 
space and a street-level marker, the 
memorial aims to offer a secluded 
realm for contemplation and at the 
same time tries to prominently mark 
the place. Some of  the text notes 
that were found among the objects 
of  public mourning are inscribed on 
the ETF foil4 that constitutes part of  
the memorial.
Positing new objects, on the other 
hand, is not possible, since the 
underground space is guarded 
and kept free from any additional 
objects. Meanwhile the upper part 
remains difficult to reach due to the 
heavy traffic circling the memorial. 
Nevertheless, there are still flowers 
and other offerings to be seen at the 
base of  the prominent cylindrical 
form in the middle of  the roundabout. 
Hence, the public continues to leave 
objects even after this possibility was 
excluded from the design. 
Slika 2: 11M obeležje, postaja Atocha, Madrid 
(2007), FAM Arquictetura y Urbanismo SLP. Vidna 
sporočila in človeško merilo.
Figure 2: 11M memorial, Atocha station, Madrid 
(2007), FAM Arquictetura y Urbanismo SLP, 
Architects (photograph by the Author). 
AR 2016.1 dr. ir. Sabina Tanović
30
The Vietnam Veterans Memorial 
in washington D.C. deals with the 
subject in quite a different way. A 
common scene at the memorial is 
that of  people tracing names with a 
piece of  paper, caressing the surface 
of  the reflective granite walls in order 
to touch the names, leaving flowers 
and other objects. This is also true 
for many First world war memorials, 
where one can often see a poppy 
attached to a particular name, at least 
the ones visitors are able to reach. The 
same can be observed at memorial 
sites of  the Second world war, 
where small piles of  stones, flowers 
and objects are always to be found. 
The matter of  appropriation comes 
prominently to the fore in these places: 
clearly people need to feel invited to 
interact with the space. The sensory 
features of  the Vietnam Veterans 
Memorial, for example, provide the 
Vietnam Veterans with the necessary 
environment for facilitating the process 
of  mourning through the presentation, 
confrontation and recognition of  
losses [watkins, Cole and weidemann, 
2010: 364]. In situations where a 
memorial is not existent or it is in 
the process of  making, it is not rare 
that people gather in a nearby space 
or a building, as was the case with the 
mourning over 9/11 in New York. At 
times, even existing monuments or 
memorials that are unrelated to the 
event are appropriated by the public, 
as happened with a 1987 monument 
on the Place de l’Alma in Paris that 
is used as an informal memorial to 
Princess Diana who died 
in a traffic accident in 1997.5 In view of  
these facts, it is apparent that memorial 
spaces have a significant role in public 
mourning. How public mourning is 
accommodated in memorial spaces, on 
the other hand, is a topic that has not 
been addressed much, and particularly 
not in the discipline of  architecture. 
4. Inviting or censoring the 
public opinion?
The question of  public freedom is 
inevitably, and ironically, a difficult one 
in regard to public architecture, since 
the level of  publicity varies depending 
on the function. In the case of  public 
memorials, communication with the 
public supposes a straightforward 
relationship: memorials are buildings 
for memories and commemorations. 
Of  course, in reality the issue is highly 
problematized and particularly so in 
official monuments and memorials. 
with regard to the issue of  a memorial 
space doubling as a public space, 
however, a question could be raised 
about how public a memorial space 
actually is, or, rather, what kind of  
public realm it is in the first place. 
This is particularly true regarding 
the tension that often rises between 
the program of  demands defined by 
official bodies and the expectations 
of  the public. The Memorial to the 
Murdered Jews of  Europe in Berlin 
is a good example of  the turmoil a 
public memorial project can induce, 
leading to a cancelled competition, 
severe opposition and continuous 
adjustments of  the chosen design.
Slika 3: Replika plamenice s spomenika Svobode (NY, 
ZDA). Pariz, Place de’ l’Alma. Obeležje spominja na 
tragično smrt Princese Diane (1997).
Figure 3: A replica of  the torch held by the Statue of  
Liberty, Place de’ l’Alma, Paris (1987) appropriated 
as a memorial to Princess Diana who died in a traffic 
accident in 1997 (photograph by the Author). 
AR 2016.1From temporary to permanent: public mourning and the architecture of memorial spaces
31
Another well-known example is the 
commemoration of  the terrorist 
attacks that happened on September 
11th 2001 in New York. Here the 
ambition to effectively transmit the 
traumatic memory and the need 
to console the survivors of  the 
event delivered an equally long and 
contested debate. The aftermath of  
the attacks saw the public display 
remarkable actions of  spontaneous 
mourning. At the same time, a public 
discussion on the most appropriate 
ways to commemorate the victims 
was developing towards two distinct 
positions: rebuilding the site or 
leaving it empty. Unsurprisingly, 
many architects advocated for 
building new structures on the ashes 
of  the old, while other voices urged 
for an immaterial – i.e. made of  light 
– "phantom building" [Rosenblum, 
2001]. A version of  this idea became 
reality only six months after the 
attack. In an annual commemoration 
of  the victims, an installation called 
"Tribute in Light", consisting of  
vertical columns of  light, was installed 
at the base of  the demolished Twin 
Towers. The practice continues to this 
day, even after the official memorial 
wasinaugurated. In contrast to the fast 
resolution about the installation, the 
creation of  a permanent memorial 
took a decade before it was opened 
to the public. The process involved 
several parties, was transparent 
and, to a certain extent, the public 
was invited to participate. This was 
demonstrated, for example, in the 
decisions made on how to inscribe 
the names of  the victims into the 
memorial. The arrangement of  the 
names was initially planned in 
alphabetical order, with insignia 
next to some names, for example 
the symbol of  a fire department 
accompanying a member of  a fire 
brigade. The public protested, 
arguing that it created a sense of  
hierarchy among the victims, and that 
it would disconnect the names of  
family members as well. Ultimately, 
the designers, Michael Arad and 
landscape architect Peter walker, 
recognized the importance of  public 
opinion. In the end, they also argued 
that finding a suitable solution was 
most rewarding since the memorial, 
as it is now, "brings individual human 
stories into an arrangement" [Arad, 
2013]. The very choice of  the final 
design, however, was in the hands 
of  a professional jury. Here, the 
greatest dilemmas concerned the 
character of  the memorial itself. For 
example, in its final deliberations 
the competition jury dismissed 
proposals that focused on consoling 
memorialization by emphasizing the 
beauty and sacredness of  the space. 
Instead, they looked for a design 
that would represent an equilibrium 
between encouraging redemption 
and demonstrating the destruction, 
such as the winning design entitled 
"Reflecting Absence".6 
Arguing that the memorial needed 
to do two things, commemorate the 
event and act as an active public space, 
the designers of  the chosen project 
stressed that the memorial should 
be used as a place for work and play. 
They also pointed out that there is no 
safe solution since public spaces are 
resilient, and that there is no certainty 
that a public memorial can be used 
only for "good purposes":
″We have to be optimists and hope that 
people will use public space in a way that 
is affirmative and not destructive, but you 
would be naive to think that it can’t be 
co-opted and 
used in a way that will injure other people. 
it would show more than a little hubris on 
the part of any designer to say, i’ve designed 
a space that can only be used for good. But 
to deny public space altogether would be 
repressive ″[Arad, 2013].
Slika 4: Konceptna prostorska rešitev za spomenik 22. 
julij. Utoya (2012), Jonas Dahlberg.
Figure 4: Concept design for 22. July memorial, 
Utoya (2012), Jonas Dahlberg (credits Jonas 
Dahlberg Studio). 
AR 2016.1 dr. ir. Sabina Tanović
32
After numerous adjustments of  the 
original proposal, including elevating 
the plaques with victims’ names 
from the underground to street level, 
the memorial eventually became a 
fountain inserted in the remaining 
footprints of  the demolished Twin 
Towers. The memorial is surrounded 
with a carefully organized public 
park and a recently opened memorial 
museum next to it. Nearly 3000 
names are inscribed into thick bronze 
parapets of  the fountains. The names 
are arranged in groups, depending on 
the location where the victims were at 
the day of  the attack. Next to this, the 
names are positioned according to 
the "meaningful adjacency requests" 
whereby relatives and colleagues 
could ask for particular individual 
names to be inscribed next to each 
other, depending with whom they 
were at the time of  the attack. This 
kind of  direct participation in crucial 
decisions about how the memorial 
space is going to perform some of  
its functions is in most cases not 
offered to the general public and, 
often, not even to the survivors. 
Norway’s July 22 memorial sites, with 
their memorials in progress, testify to 
this. In the winning design proposal 
for the 2014 competition for Utoya 
island, Swedish artist Jonas Dahlberg 
envisioned a physical incision, a 
symbolical wound, into the Sorbraten 
peninsula which faces Utoya.
The literal cut into the landscape, with 
the names of  the victims to be engraved 
on the flat vertical stone surface, 
was welcomed by the committee 
as radical, brave and relevant in the 
process of  remembering. It only 
seems that the aspect of  interaction 
with the public, such as in the 
Vietnam Veterans memorial that 
manifested in the possibility to touch 
the names, is taken away: a wide gap 
will be dividing the wall with names 
and the viewing gallery. The artist 
argued that accentuating rupture and 
interruption will bring visitors to a 
state of  reflection in order to establish 
their own private ways of  seeing and 
remembering [Dahlberg, 2012]. 
The realization of  the memorial, 
however, has been postponed due 
to the opposition of  Utoya locals 
who perceive the proposed design as 
intrusive. In the meantime, a subtler 
and nature-friendly approach that 
strongly involves aspects of  ‘healing’ 
has come to fore: the memorial newly 
installed at Utoya by architectural 
team 3Rw entitled ‘Lysningen – The 
Clearing’. Even though the name 
suggests similar notions of  a void 
and absence as signifiers of  traumatic 
memory, as employed in Dahlberg’s 
concept, the memorial was designed 
to change as a structure subordinate 
to nature and the passing of  time. The 
aspect of  mutability through natural 
processes is reinforced by a careful 
selection of  vegetation, but more 
importantly by the deliberate choice 
of  a location without site-specific 
history. As the designers explained:
″We might talk about the memorial 
as a kind of  void to be filled with the 
individual’s needs to process grief, remember 
the lives that were lost and detach 
themselves from the drama that took place 
elsewhere on the island ″[3RW architects, 
2015].
5. Involving the public in the 
construction process
A 1978 competition for a 
commemoration of  the Second world 
war destruction in Lüdenhausen, 
Germany, yielded a proposal that 
involved citizens as both designers 
and owners of  the design. The 
project, entitled “Pro Memoria 
Garden” and designed by the 
Argentinian architect Emilio Ambasz, 
was devised as a labyrinthine garden 
with individually assigned gardening 
plots that needed to be nourished and 
cared for by the plot owners. In this 
way, the active participation would, 
the designer believed, symbolically 
keep the memory alive. Each plot 
would be assigned to a newborn 
and demarcated with a marble slab 
inscribed with that person’s name. 
The proposed concept was that 
a person would own the assigned 
garden from the age of  five until 
death, when the plot would be given 
to a new owner with a new marble 
slab placed next to the previous one. 
The architect hoped that from divided 
plots the labyrinth would grow into a 
common community garden and that 
interacting in this way, the garden as a 
memorial in the making would teach 
people about the respect and value 
of  life, as he argued: “Children are 
taught the rudiments of  gardening to 
prepare for a lifetime of  responsible 
cultivation” [Ambasz, 1978].
AR 2016.1From temporary to permanent: public mourning and the architecture of memorial spaces
33
The tendency toward involving the 
public not only as viewers but also 
as active participants in creating a 
memorial seems to become more 
prominent in contemporary projects. 
For example, the so called “Field of  
Crosses” - Monument to Kornati 
Firefighters (2010) on the Island 
of  Kornat in Croatia, was almost 
entirely realized by volunteers. The 
memorial, consisting of  twelve 
dry-wall crosses of  megalithic 
dimensions accompanied with a 
circular ‘chapel’, were put in place 
by nearly 3000 participants.7 The 
amount of  participants in the 
construction of  the memorial was 
recognized as both collective and 
individual witnessing. Throughout 
the process, described by the 
designer as “cathartic atonement” 
[Bašić, 2010], participants were 
learning about the event and, in 
some instances, ways to overcome 
the trauma.
This practice is widely used in projects 
by German artist Jochen Gerz, best 
known for his Monument Against 
Fascism in Harburg-Hamburg 
(1986-1996) and The Square of  the 
Invisible Monument (also known 
as 2146 Stones-Memorial against 
Racism, 1993) in Saarbrücken. Gerz’s 
recent project.
The Square of  the European 
Promise, continues this approach 
and takes participation as a key 
element in memorial design.8 
Negatively surprised by the 1931 
“Heroes Memorial Hall” in the 
Christ Church in Bochum, where a 
memorial mosaic accusingly depicts 
the names of  enemy states opposite 
of  the names of  local First world 
war victims, the artist invited citizens 
to let their names be engraved on 
memorial plaques that will be added 
to this odd memorial. In the process, 
each individual that signed up to have 
their name included in the memorial, 
had to make a “promise” to Europe 
that remains private, hence invisible 
for the public - in line with Gerz’s 
earlier projects. In addition, the act 
of  adding names to the existing 
memorial plaques indirectly refers to 
the post-war commemoration of  the 
Second world war, when names of  
the dead were often added to existing 
memorials of  the First world war. 
The fact that the new list consists 
of  names that belong to living 
individuals creates new meaning and 
creates a platform for current issues.
6. Discussion 
In Atocha, the memorial was a 
response to the immediate post-
traumatic period and can therefore 
be recognized as a spontaneous act 
of  mourning since the designers felt 
personally affected by the attack. By 
extending the official program of  
demands that initially only called for 
a public memorial on the street-level, 
designers opted for a spiritual realm 
where people could contemplate 
the loss. Even though some of  the 
messages of  public mourning were 
used in the design of  the memorial, 
the public and public mourning were 
excluded from the design process. 
The result was an architecturally 
inspiring peace of  work, but 
highly contentious in terms of  its 
functioning and meaning. In fact, 
the project seems to become a victim 
of  its own architectural supremacy 
since the unfulfilled demands 
for high maintenance caused the 
memorial’s deterioration. Perhaps 
more importantly, the memorial 
obstructed the appropriation of  the 
space by the public which became 
difficult – if  not impossible. In the 
case of  the 9/11 memorial, on the 
other hand, public sentiment was 
included in the decision-making 
when some of  the crucial elements 
of  the memorial were resolved, 
namely the inscription of  the victims’ 
names. The origin of  the project was 
similar to that of  the 11M memorial, 
since outbursts of  spontaneous 
mourning after the attacks inspired 
many to think about permanent 
ways to commemorate the victims.
The designer Michael Arad was 
equally touched by the coming 
together of  people in the public 
space after the attacks, which led 
him to think about the importance 
of  public memorial space in society. 
Unlike the construction process 
of  the 11M memorial, building 
the 9/11 memorial was much 
less straightforward and involved 
numerous alterations of  the original 
proposal. Even though it is a highly 
controlled public space, the very 
process of  its making confirms how 
relevant the role of  the architect is, as 
the mediator between public opinion 
and official bodies. 
34
AR 2016.1 Ljubljana
Due to the transparent approach 
and highly public character of  the 
process, the creation of  The National 
9/11 Memorial and Museum was an 
illustration of  contemporary debates 
surrounding work of  memorialization, 
in which the question of  architecture 
in the service of  memory faces 
multilayered issues. One of  the most 
prominent issues during this process 
centered on the role of  architecture 
as an embodiment of  what society 
prefers in terms of  a memorial’s 
morphology. This was certainly not 
the case with the approach taken in 
the creation of  memorials for July 22 
memorials in Norway.
Public mourning is a delicate issue 
and, in most cases, difficult to manage 
for official institutions, particularly 
in cases of  immediate spontaneous 
mourning manifesting itself  in 
enormous quantities of  material. In 
Madrid, these offerings were archived 
and documented in projects preceding 
the official memorial. Once the 11M 
was built, however, public mourning 
was in large part restricted. Conversely, 
at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, 
visitors continue to leave objects that 
are collected on a daily basis and added 
to the growing collection.
 In this way, the memorial stays true to 
its reputation of  a "healing" structure, 
by reaffirming the importance of  
public mourning as an ongoing 
phenomenon. In contrast, the 11M 
did recognize the public sentiment, 
but chose to ossify it instead.
Keeping in mind that public mourning 
is a continuous process, as underlined 
by our knowledge of  psychology, it 
is essential that architecture provides 
space for spontaneous expressions 
of  grief. A memorial that fulfills its 
purpose as a public space is a memorial 
that is appropriated by its users. Even 
though it inevitably becomes an 
emotional realm, it needs to allow for 
this to happen on both an informal 
and an institutional level.
Regarding current issues in 
architectural practice that question 
the architect’s role in society, examples 
of  memorial projects that embrace a 
participatory approach and involve 
the public in the decision-making or 
the construction process, seem to 
carry seeds of  actual change. This 
approach also resonates with the idea 
that architecture’s role is related to 
establishing "frames of  perception 
and horizons of  understanding", as 
quoted in the beginning of  this paper. 
For example, if  the accusatory First 
world war memorial in Bochum 
anticipated the destruction that swiped 
Europe in the Second world war, 
and as such has taught us a lesson (as 
commemorative edifices are expected 
to do), countering this approach is a 
demonstration of  progress. what kind 
of  prophetic message rests in Gerz’s 
publicly made public memorial is yet 
to be seen, but for now it represents 
a valuable example of  a design 
intervention that is both a reflection of  
public sentiment and a reaction to the 
architectural focus on form. In order 
to create meaningful spaces, designers 
of  contemporary memorials need to 
look more closely to the process of  
mourning and towards the needs of  
the bereaved. In this view, memorial 
spaces should aim to reaffirm the 
power of  design to elucidate collective 
emotion in a democracy.
AR 2016.1From temporary to permanent: public mourning and the architecture of memorial spaces
35
Bibliography
3Rw architects (2015): 3Rw wins the 
competition to design memorial on 
Utoya, Official website; http://3rw.
no/3rw-wins-the-competition-to-
propose-memorial-on-utoya/ 
Abend, L. and P. Geoff  (2004): Spain’s 
path to 3/11 memorial, The Christian 
Science Monitor; www.csmonitor.
com/2004/0714/p07s01-woeu.html/
(page)/2 <July 14, 2004> 
Ambasz, E. (1978): Pro-Memoria 
Garden, Official website Emilio 
Ambasz & Associates. Inc; http://
emilioambaszandassociates.com/
portfolio/Pro-Memoria-Garden. 
Arad, M. quoted in: H. Shapira, ‘Reflecting 
Absence: An Interview with Michael 
Arad’, Public Books www.publicbooks.
org/interviews/reflecting-absence-an-
interview-with-michael-arad <August 
30, 2013> 
Bašić, N. (2010): A Monument to Kornati 
Firefighters in: Pogledaj.to; http://
pogledaj.to/drugestvari/nikola-basic-
a-monument-to-kornati-firefighters/, 
<November 27, 2010> 
Beder, J. (2004/2005): ‘Loss of  the 
Assumptive world – How we Deal with 
Death and Loss’, OMEGA, Vol. 50(4), 
pp. 255-265. 
Dahlberg, J. (2012): July 22 Memorial Sites 
– winning entry, Public Art Norway 
– KORO http://publicartnorway.
org/content/uploads/2016/03/Jonas-
Dahlberg_ENG.pdf, <February, 2012> 
Gerz J. (2007): 49th City Talks: Square 
of  the European Promise - A speech 
by Jochen Gerz in Bochum Museum 
of  Art http://europeanpromise.eu/
chronology/49th-city-talks/ <January 
17, 2007> 
Santino, J. (1992): Not an Unimportant 
Failure: Rituals of  Death and Politics in 
Northern Ireland, in: M. McCaughan, 
ed., Displayed in Mortal Light Northern 
Ireland: Antrim Arts Council, n.p. 
Santino, J. ed. (2006): Spontaneous Shrines 
and the Public Memorialization of  
Death, Palgrave Macmillan. 
Pallasmaa J. (2012): J. Pallasmaa and P. 
MacKeith, Encounters 1: Architectural 
Essays, Rakkenustieto. 
Rando, T. A. (2000): On the experience 
of  traumatic stress in anticipatory and 
post-death mourning, in: T. A. Rando, 
ed., Clinical Dimensions of  Anticipatory 
Mourning: Theory and Practice in 
working with the Dying, Their Loved 
Ones, and Their Caregivers, Champaign, 
IL: Research Press, pp. 155-221.
Rosenblum, R. (2001): quoted in D. 
Solomon, Art/Architecture; From 
the Rubble, Ideas for Rebirth, The 
New York Times www.nytimes.
com/2001/09/30/arts/art-architecture-
from-the-rubble-ideas-for-rebirth.html 
<(30th September, 2001>
Sánchez-Carretero, C., A. Cea, P. Díaz-Mas, 
Pilar Martínez and C. Ortiz (2011): On 
Blurred Borders and Interdisciplinary 
Research Teams: The Case of  the 
“Archive of  Mourning”, Forum: 
Qualitative Research Sozialforschung, 
Vol. 12, 3, www.qualitative-research.
net/index.php/fqs/article/
view/1737/3237 <30th September, 
2001>
Senie, H. F. (1999): Mourning in Protest: 
Spontaneous Memorials and the 
Sacralization of  Public Space, Harvard 
Design Magazine: Constructions of  
Memory, 9 (Fall 1999), pp. 23-27.  
Senie, H. F. (2003): A Difference in Kind: 
Spontaneous memorials after 9/11, 
International Sculpture Center, www.
sculpture.org/documents/scmag03/
jul_aug03/webspecial/senie.shtml. 
Young, J. E. (2006): The Stages of  Memory 
at Ground Zero, in: O. B. Stier and J. 
Shawn Landres, eds., Religion, Violence, 
Memory, and Place, Indiana University 
Press, pp. 214-235.
winnicott, D. w. (1982): Transitional 
Objects and Transitional Phenomena 
[1951], in: D. w. winnicott, Playing and 
Reality, Routledge; New Edition, pp. 
1-34. 
watkins, N., F. Cole and S. weidemann 
(2010): The war Memorial as Healing 
Environment: The Psychological 
Effect of  the Vietnam Veterans 
Memorial on Vietnam war Combat 
Veterans’ Posttraumatic Stress Disorder 
Symptoms, Environment and Behavior, 
Vol. 42, No. 3, pp. 351-375.