La ventana como símbolo del mirar del arquitecto The window as a symbol of the architect’s gaze

The history of the architectural gaze follows a linear course, except for the one that occurs in the Renaissance. At that moment, with the appearance of perspective and the consolidation of the window trope, architecture became aware of the true role of the gaze. From a historical point of view, the vision of perspective has been privileged over the window way of seeing the world. But the symbolic, physical

que opera la completa sustitución de sus globos oculares. 2 Es decir, renuncia a la imperfección de la mirada propia a cambio de otra de la que es, a la postre, un mero prestatario.
A pesar de que la fi siología del ojo del hombre griego es idéntica a la del hombre del siglo XXI, hoy vemos más. Entre aquellos ojos acostumbrados a ver atardeceres en el mar Egeo y los nuestros, saturados de las imágenes de toda la historia del hombre, vemos incluso de otro modo. La mirada desde lo alto de una montaña de la pintura china, la del arte gótico desde el trasluz colorido de las vidrieras de sus catedrales, la del arte japonés alrededor de un biombo y la del arte italiano con su visión central de ciudades soñadas, se han depositado como sedimentos al fondo de nuestras modernas y exhaustas retinas. Hoy vemos más de lo que soñaron ver los ojos de Le Corbusier, porque tras él hemos visto lo que ha sucedido después de su misma modernidad.
La historia de la mirada de la arquitectura no ha sufrido grandes cambios de paradigma. Su evolución se ha apoyado en una lenta y apenas perceptible sucesión de cambios, salvo los que se produce en el Renacimiento y que toman cuerpo en dos tropos que, por contraste, tienen el carácter de hitos: la aparición de la perspectiva y la toma de consciencia de la ventana como objeto autorreferencial. Desde entonces, ambos descubrimientos cruzan los ojos de la arquitectura como una cicatriz.
La aparición de la perspectiva y los fundamentos de la antropología hunden sus raíces en el mismo barro. Panofsky dijo que, además de una hermosa técnica, "el punto de fuga es al mismo tiempo el símbolo concreto del descubrimiento del infi nito mismo". 7 John Berger pone mayor entusiasmo and instead perform the complete replacement of their eyeballs. 2 In other words, they renounce the imperfection of their own gaze in exchange for another that, in the end, they merely borrow.
In Moneo's statement we should recognise the distant echo of Le Corbusier and his "eyes that do not see". 3 However, while Le Corbusier emphasised his own modernity by accusing his colleagues of "not seeing" -"to see someone who does not see is the best way to be intensely aware of what he does not see "-4 Moneo talks about the skill, the gift of having received the loan of a different gaze. In both cases, the eyes establish the boundary between being or not being an architect. From time immemorial, the eyes legitimise and compel architects.
Although the physiology of the eyes of Greek and 21st-century humans are identical, today we see more. From those eyes used to watching sunsets over the Aegean Sea to ours, saturated with images of the entire history of humankind, we see differently. The gaze from the top of a mountain typical of Chinese painting, through the stained glass windows of Gothic cathedrals, on a folding screen of Japanese art and with the central vision of dream cities of Italian art lay like sediment at the back of our exhausted, modern retinas. Today we see more than Le Corbusier's eyes dreamed of seeing, because, after him, we have seen what has happened after its own modernity.
The gaze, like the net of a fi sherman, has collected previous gazes in its historical growth. It also works as a vector that pursues its goal like a hunter pursues its prey. Though vivid, both images are relics of the past. For the Greco-Roman world, the philosophical concept of the gaze was torn between these two ideas: "the eye-trap", which could capture the exterior, and the "eye-lighthouse", which could generate its own light and illuminate in the opposite direction. 5 This passive or active condition of the eye, respectively, lives on in the imagery of the gaze of human beings and, therefore, of architecture. "The eye is not a miner, not a diver, not a seeker after buried treasure. It fl oats us smoothly down a stream; resting, pausing". 6 Although Virginia Woolf suppresses its philosophical weight, the dual direction of this power line of the gaze remains in every work of art in various ways and in different ages. The eyes are not only used to look at the world and light it up; using this dual focus, they also see us and act as receptacles. Architecture collects, with interest, the loan of its gaze by subjecting the architect to a strict and tireless surveillance. The eyes of architecture help us to see the world, but, at the same time, they scrutinise and watch us to keep us from betraying such a valuable loan.
The history of the gaze of architecture has not undergone major paradigm shifts. Its development has been backed by a slow and barely perceptible succession of changes, apart from those in the Renaissance that materialised in two tropes that, in contrast, have the role of milestones: the appearance of perspective and the awareness of the window as a self-referential object. Since then, both discoveries have criss-crossed the eyes of architecture like a scar.
The appearance of perspective and the principles of anthropology sink their roots in the same soil. Panofsky said that, as well as being a beautiful technique, "the vanishing point is similarly the concrete symbol of the discovery of infi nity itself". 7 John Berger's position was more psychological: 2 Matisse spoke about this optical replacement in terms of a battle: "Do you know that a man has only one eye which sees and registers everything, this eye, like a superb camera which takes minute pictures, very sharp, tiny, and with that picture man tells himself: 'This time I know the reality of things', and he is calm for a moment. Then, slowly superimposing itself on the picture, another eye makes its appearance, invisibly, which makes an entirely different picture for him. Then our man no longer sees clearly, a struggle begins between the fi rst and second eye, the fi ght is fi erce, fi nally the second eye has the upper hand, takes over and that's the end of it. Now it has command of the situation, the second eye can then continue its work alone and elaborate its own picture according to the laws of interior vision" The window as a symbol of the architect's gaze psicológico: "más que una ciencia, la perspectiva es una esperanza". 8 Comparado con el deslumbrante corpus teórico despertado por la perspectiva y su infl uencia en el arte, en la etnografía y en la metafísica, el tropo de la "ventana" ha recibido la escasa atención de un desarrapado. Apenas un puñado de historiadores del arte y los profesionales del día a día de la arquitectura han prestado la atención teórica debida a las ventanas y su implícita fenomenología del mirar.
10 Leonardo Da Vinci. Cuaderno de Notas. "De como la pintura aventaja a todas las obras humanas por razón de su conexión con la sutil especulación", (Arganda del Rey, Madrid: EDIMAT, 2003EDIMAT, . (1476EDIMAT, -1518 "perspective is not a science but a hope". 8 Compared to the dazzling theoretical writings awoken by perspective and its infl uence on art, ethnography and metaphysics, the trope of the "window" has received the scant attention normally reserved for worthless subjects. Barely a handful of art historians and the day-to-day professionals of architecture have paid due theoretical attention to windows and their implicit phenomenology of looking.
It was no coincidence that precisely when perspective arrived, the window acquired an epistemological dimension with a greater scope than it had ever possessed in the entire history of art. If the framing of the window functions as a metaphor for painting-and from the 12th century onwards as a symbol of the landscape-its assimilation as a way of looking of architecture itself had to wait another two hundred years. 9 A sudden identifi cation of the eye with its innocent literary metaphor shaped the idea. Leonardo da Vinci presents a common belief among his contemporaries when he says: "…the eye, the window of the soul…" With this statement, the connection of the window to the essential intimacy of the human being became indelible. 10 Although the identifi cation between the window and the canvas was consolidated in the realm of painting, from that moment that rectangle would look upon the inhabitant and architecture itself.
The gaze of the Ecce Homo in Dürer's woodcut (fi gure 1) shows a window with a precision that, to our accelerated eyes -subject to the psychological pressure of modern screens-seems simply innocent. 11 The intertextual threshold of the frame would be taken to the limit in paintings by Vermeer and Velázquez. The pictorial genre of landscape art sprang up from the window; thanks to its framing it transubstantiated into panorama, horizon and nature. Symbolic and formal appeals to the window, its role as a catalyst -as an intermediary-are vital to understanding the effort made by painting to escape from its two-dimensional nature throughout history. In the Italian Renaissance, landscapes slip through fi gures thanks to the abyss of the window turned into a frame within the New in-sights?

La ventana como símbolo del mirar del arquitecto
The window as a symbol of the architect's gaze tratadista. Con el tiempo aquella imagen ha ido adquiriendo la complejidad de un crescendo teórico y metafísico. La ventana refl ejada en la pupila de Durero se convierte en el siglo XVIII, con Ledoux, en la representación del Teatro de Besançon (fi gura 2). La fusión de ojo, arquitectura y ventana adquiere el carácter de un sólido sin fi suras. Hoy la relación de la ventana con el mirar poseen para el arquitecto dimensiones que trascienden las especulaciones brindadas por el dibujo o la literatura.
La visión implícita en la ventana como dispositivo psíquico obliga a asombrarnos ante el mundo. Huizinga defi ne esa ambición perfectamente: "la contemplación simultánea del mundo con ojos de niño y ojos de adulto, con la mirada de un durmiente soñador y al mismo tiempo con una mirada totalmente serena, con melancolía y alegría a la vez". 13 Por otro lado, la ventana como dispositivo e imagen de la mirada de la arquitectura nos anima a remontarnos a ver antes de llegar al marco, a ir antes de la pupila, y más atrás, incluso antes de la fóvea y el cristalino. La neurociencia no deja de recordarnos que la mirada comienza en el cerebro (y que lo hace a partir de datos incompletos). La fi losofía no se queda atrás. Schopenhauer denomina `la visión pura´, a aquella que trata de hacer al hombre "olvidar todo su saber anterior para llegar a ver como si viera por primera vez el objeto dado, sin tener la menor idea de lo que está viendo". 14 Ese estado de "extrañamiento" no ha dejado de tener una poderosa correlación con el modo de mirar del arquitecto que representa la ventana. 15 La ventana, como la perspectiva en su sentido etimológico, se dispone "para ver a través" del mundo y de sí misma.
Las ventanas de la arquitectura recortadas en las viejas fábricas murarias tendieron a ser estrechas por pura necesidad constructiva. En esos huecos someros se adivina una específi ca forma de mirar. Un hueco reducido puede sostener la carga del muro que cae sobre él gracias a arcos y a dinteles. La completa arquitectura de Roma o Grecia son producto del rico álgebra de esas simples piezas. El marco para ver el exterior a través de ventanas de huecos rasgados en vertical gradúa el modo de relacionarse con el mundo. 17 Comparativamente a toda la historia de la arquitectura, contemplar la anchura completa del horizonte desde un interior ha sucedido en los últimos minutos del festín purovisual. El ansia de vistas horizontales corre paralelo a las técnicas constructivas del hormigón y el acero. Dado que las novedosas estructuras de hormigón armado permitían abrir huecos largos, ¿por qué no hacerlos larguísimos? Pero el pedagógico entusiasmo puesto por Le Corbusier en la "fenêtre en longueur" esconde un sombrío envés. painting. In a famous letter to Titian, Aretino wrote that the "sill" of the painting was necessary for the outside to be perceived. 12 Is all landscape art always painted from a window?
Although the connection between the window and painting may be unbreakable, architecture takes it even further. The metaphor used by Leonardo da Vinci made an impression on Alberti, the architect and treatise writer. Over time, that image has reached a complex theoretical and metaphysical crescendo. In the 18th century, the window in Dürer's pupil becomes with Ledoux a representation of Besançon's theatre (fi gure 2). The fusion of eye, architecture and window acquires the character of a solid object without gaps. Today, the relationship between the window and the gaze for architects has dimensions that transcend the speculations provided by drawing or literature.
The implicit vision in the window as a psychological mechanism compels us to wonder at the world. Huizinga defi nes this ambition perfectly: "the simultaneous contemplation of the world with the eyes of a child and the eyes of an adult, with the gaze of a sleeping dreamer and, at the same time, with a completely serene gaze, with both melancholy and happiness". 13 The window as a device and image of the gaze of architecture also encourages us to go back to seeing before reaching the frame, before the pupil, and further back, before the fovea and the crystalline lens. Neuroscience never ceases to remind us that the gaze begins in the brain (based on incomplete information), and philosophy is not far behind. For Schopenhauer, the "pure vision" attempted to make humans "forget all their previous knowledge in order to see as if seeing the given object for the fi rst time, without having the slightest idea of what they were seeing". 14 This state of "alienation" has a strong connection to how architects who represent the window look. 15 The window, like perspective in its etymological meaning, is used "to see through" the world and itself.
Archaeology, ethnography and anthropology have traditionally placed fi re and shelter before windows, despite the importance of the latter. Windows do not perforate the scarce preserved remains of Natufi an huts, the ruinous domestic walls found in Anatolia and Mesopotamia, the Roman domus or the Greek "shadowy megaron". Air and even a certain gloom enter through the vents and doors of the most primitive huts. Birds, rabbits and other animals use doors in their nests, dens or shelters, but not windows. The window is the fi rst unnecessary option in construction and, therefore, something that appeals to the completely human nature of architecture. "Modern architecture has not needed to acquire a new decoration, because simply by adding the window, the house has gained in return more than with all other imaginable decorations", says the man of letters and design enthusiast Gómez de la Serna. 16 The window is the fi rst luxury object of all works and is, therefore, close to the origin of architecture as a signifi cant discipline.
Windows in architecture -cut in the old masonry factories-tended to be narrow for purely construction reasons. Those shallow openings hint at a specifi c way of looking. A small hole can support the load of the wall above it thanks to arches and lintels. The whole architecture of Rome or Greece is a product of the rich algebra of these simple parts. The frame to see the outside through windows made of vertical holes changes how we relate to the world. 17 Compared to the entire history of architecture, seeing the complete width of the horizon from inside has only happened in the last few minutes of the purevisual feast. The window as a symbol of the architect's gaze universos respecto al modo de mirar el mundo. El hueco vertical construía en su interior rincones y espacios de sombra. A la vez, proveía una mirada progresiva y lenta, que arrastraba los ojos por la habitación como lo haría un explorador: desde el primer plano del suelo, al alfeizar y a las jambas, hasta despegar hacia el cielo, recorriendo todas las distancias ópticas posibles (fi gura 3). Por su parte, el rectángulo apaisado de la ventana corrida, eco purifi cado del horizonte, ilumina la habitación como un fl uorescente y, simultáneamente, destruye la posibilidad de graduar la distancia con el mundo. La vista a su través, convertida en un espacio expresamente lejano e inalcanzable, hace que el cuerpo se distancie del paisaje y lo objetualice. El hueco rasgado en horizontal ofrece el cabeceo de una negación sin fi n, en el que la pupila hace innecesario todo ajuste. El culto a la visión del hueco horizontal se convierte así en la fuente de un placer triste y resignado. Poco después, la ventana comenzó a vibrar en el paño del muro aligerado convirtiéndose en una receta prefabricada vaciando su dimensión psicológica. ¿Fue ese el instante en el que los contemporáneos de Le Corbusier se insensibilizaron ante el problema de la ventana y de la mirada?
Ningún arquitecto grande renuncia a mirar el mundo a lo grande. De hecho, Le Corbusier construyó dos ventanas para la casa de su madre al borde del lago Lemán, en Corseaux que son un compendio de ambas miradas. Una, la que le reporta fama mundial como pionero moderno, es su primera "ventana corrida". La otra, un cuadrado recortado en un muro exterior que da al lago, representa los ojos y el modo de mirar de la propia arquitectura a lo largo de la historia (fi gura 4). El muro oculta una vista gastada del lago para, de improviso, mostrarla de golpe y con sorpresa a través de un simple hueco; rejuvenecida y actualizada. Esa mirada es a la vez ancestral y nueva. Del mismo modo, en Oriente, Sen-no Rikyu, maestro afamado de la ceremonia del té, apenas unos siglos antes, hace plantar dos setos que ocultan completamente el mar en un templo cerca de Osaka. Al lado manda colocar una pileta de piedra. Sólo cuando el visitante se inclina para tomar agua en el cuenco de las manos, su mirada encuentra la abertura escorzada entre los setos y puede contemplar la vista al mar ilimitado. "La idea de Rikyu probablemente era esta: al inclinarse sobre la pileta y ver la propia imagen achicada en el limitado espejo de agua, el hombre consideraba la propia pequeñez, después apenas alzaba la cara para beber de la mano, lo capturaba el resplandor de la inmensidad marina y cobraba conciencia de que era parte del universo infi nito. Pero son cosas que cuando se las quiere explicar demasiado se malogran". 19 Esta forma de mirar supone el primer paso para poder llegar tomar conciencia de nuestro lugar en el mundo. Para mirar y también poder reconocernos mirando. for long holes, why not make them even longer? But Le Corbusier's educational interest in the "fenêtre en longueur" conceals a dark underside.
Auguste Perret and Le Corbusier publicly debated the desirable size of windows. This was not just a vain battle of egos. 18 Both kinds of windows open up different universes on how to look at the world. The vertical hole built corners and shadowy spaces inside and, at the same time, provided a progressive, slow gaze that drew the eyes across the room as an explorer would do: from the fi rst ground plane, to the sill and the doorjambs, until soaring towards the sky, covering all the possible optical distances (fi gure 3). In contrast, the horizontal rectangle of the ribbon window, a purifi ed echo of the horizon, illuminates the room like a fl uorescent light and, simultaneously, destroys the possibility of adjusting the distance to the world. The view through the ribbon window, having become an expressly faraway and unreachable place, makes the body distance itself from the landscape, thus objectifying it. The wide horizontal hole offers the headshaking of an endless negation, in which the pupil makes all adjustments unnecessary. The worship of the vision from the horizontal hole therefore becomes the source of a sad, resigned pleasure. Shortly afterwards, the window started to shake in the lightened wall section and became a prefabricated system that loses its psychological dimension. Was that the moment when Le Corbusier's contemporaries became insensitive to the problem of the window and the gaze?
No great architect refuses to look at the world in grand terms. In fact, Le Corbusier built two windows for his mother's house on the shore of Lake Geneva, in Corseaux, that combined both gazes. One, which brought him worldwide fame as a modern pioneer, is his fi rst "ribbon window"; the other, a square cut into an external wall looking out to the lake, represents the eyes and the way of looking of architecture itself throughout history (fi gure 4). The wall hides a worn-out view of the lake and then, suddenly, shows it by surprise through a simple hole, rejuvenated and modernised. That gaze is both ancestral and new. Similarly, just a few centuries earlier, in the East, at a temple near Osaka, Sen-no Rikyu, the famous master of the tea ceremony, had two hedges planted that completely hid the sea and near them he had a El siglo XX ha visto como el vidrio era capaz de sustituir la ventana y su relación con el muro por completo, llegando a destruir el poder visual y metafórico del encuadre. ¿Hasta qué punto pueden ser transparentes los ojos de la arquitectura? Cada ventana es un lugar de culto a la mirada, y merece la misma consideración de tuvo para los romanos el altar doméstico donde se veneraban a los dioses lares. A mediados del siglo pasado, ante el vaciamiento signifi cante de los huecos por parte de la tardía modernidad, Aldo Van Eyck clama por "hacer de cada ventana un lugar". Christopher Alexander habla del "lugar ventana" con la misma conmiseración que tiene un conservacionista con una especie al borde de la extinción. Hoy ¿qué queda del signifi cado de las ventanas cuando todo está igual de cerca, cuando la vorágine de lo visual ha terminado por arruinar la atención requerida para poder ver? Al menos por la "fenêtre en longueur" entraba la cegadora luz de un horizonte lejano pero real. Los peligros que acosan a la ventana como tótem de la mirada no se detienen. Hoy "el frenesí de lo visible" resulta voraz.
Las ventanas son las encargadas de especializar los usos íntimos de la arquitectura. La posición respecto a la ventana hace que a su alrededor nazcan espacios de lectura, de sueño o de trabajo. La inmediatez a la ventana provee de un exceso de ruidos o de iluminación que impiden el reposo o la concentración, su alejamiento hace brotar un ruido blanco que facilita actividades como la lectura o el estudio. Los ritmos del exterior, las leves corrientes de aire e incluso el movimiento de la vida fuera de su marco ayudan a que los ojos no se fatiguen. Esos gestos impensados, cargados de matices sociales y culturales, son un caudal fértil para la vida ¿No nos brinda la ventana un modo de entender el mundo coincidente con el de la propia arquitectura? ¿Acaso la mirada de la arquitectura no trasciende a la de los propios ojos? stone pond built. Only when visitors bent down to scoop water from the pond in the hollow of their hands did their gaze meet the oblique opening between the hedges and could they admire the unlimited view of the sea. "Rikyu's idea was probably this: bending down over the pond and seeing his own image shrunk in that narrow stretch of water, the man would consider his own smallness; then as soon as he raised his face to drink from his hand he would be dazzled by the immensity of the sea and would become aware that he was part of an infi nite universe. But these things that are ruined if you try to explain them too much". 19 This way of looking represents the fi rst step in being aware of our place in the world. To look and also to be able to recognise ourselves by looking.
The 20th century witnessed how glass completely replaced the window and its relationship with the wall, managing to destroy the visual and metaphorical power of the framing. To what extent can the eyes of architecture be transparent? Each window is a place of worship to the gaze, and deserves the same consideration that Romans gave to the domestic altar, where they worshipped Lares deities.
In the mid-20th century, in response to the signifi cant removal of holes by late modernity, Aldo Van Eyck called on architects to "make of each window a place". Christopher Alexander spoke about the "window place" with the same sympathy a conservationist has for a species on the verge of extinction. What is left of the meaning of windows when everything is equally close, when the visual whirlwind has ended up ruining the attention required to be able to see? At least the blinding light of a distant but real horizon entered through the "fenêtre en longueur". The hazards that pursue the window as a totem of the gaze never stop. Today "the frenzy of the visible" is true.
Only some languages preserve the close connection between the window and the gaze. The English word window, comes from the Old Norse vindr, "wind" and auga "eye". 20 Nowadays, trade has turned the profundity of this word into a mere logo. The fact that the world's operating system is called "windows" is an insult that, as far as we know, no architect has responded to by publicly declaring their discomfort. The narcotic apathy regarding windows is symptomatic of a profession that seems to be focused on large-scale formal or socio-political theorising, but not on the effects of the gaze. In the meantime, and in the hands of industry, the same window is endlessly repeated like a minuscule, identical non-place. Although we do not know the consequences, will the strabismus represented by the lack of consideration for windows ultimately affect the gaze of architecture?
The window represents a way of looking and, at the same time, as a topos, has the support of a foregone physical dimension. A thousand screens may sparkle in the dark of the night but, when day breaks, the mischievous sun of the dawn will slide in through a window. Thanks to windows, each room is a thousand rooms and our gaze is renewed every day. The beam of light that enters through the most modest windows everyday remains alive from a psychological, architectural and philosophical perspective. This physical and sensory dimension of windows is not limited to light. We cross through doors in body and soul (as distant as that word might be), but in the case of windows, we do not pass through completely, only partially. Sensorially selective and picky, windows act like mysterious and demanding sieves and, precisely for that reason, they emphasise the animal specifi city of human beings compared to other species. Except for birds, ants and few invertebrates, few living beings are guided mainly by sight and hearing. Windows, like us, are essentially audiovisual mechanisms and organise space according to this dictatorship of the senses. Windows give architecture a hierarchical structure and order and establish the interplay of interior distances. Their proximity or remoteness generate different spatial spheres within rooms and striking sensory bubbles around them. The intrinsic phototropism of the window is a true fact. Vestige of thousands of years of evolution and dangers overcome by the ability to see one's surroundings, when we enter a room our bodies move instinctively towards windows-exploring the space. Human physiology explores the limits of the subconscious in windows. As the sensory organs of human beings are in the head, we can put it out the window while leaning our arms on the frame, and the ¿Nuevas miradas?
New in-sights?
Asomarse a una ventana constituye un acto social saturado de sentido. Mirar o ser mirado desde el exterior revela una extraña indefensión. En el encuentro de unos ojos que miran desde dentro y otros que lo hacen desde fuera existe una situación insostenible y repetida desde los albores de la humanidad. La ventana es el lugar donde hay alguien que cede. Los velos en las inmediaciones de las ventanas protegen de esos contactos como párpados. Sumado a cuestiones de control térmico, a ello se debe que la ventana requiera, además de cortinas, de celosías y visillos y todo su poder fi ltrante. La libertad propia y la ajena chocan en ese borde ¿Tenemos derecho a invadir, siquiera con la mirada, la casa de nuestros semejantes? Siempre e irónicamente, la ventana es indiscreta. La carga social e histórica contenida en este simple marco resulta tan inagotable como la misma arquitectura. Incluso la posición a la que se encuentran respecto al suelo habla de diferencias sociales. En las más desprotegidas y bajas existen ecos de proletariado y pobreza. En multitud de ciudades, y durante siglos, cada residencia pagaba impuestos dependiendo de su número de ventanas. En Inglaterra, contra toda idea de salud, se tributaba dependiendo de la cantidad de vidrio que tuviesen los huecos de sus ventanas. 21 Una historia social y económica se asoma por cada hueco de fachada. centre of gravity of the body and the feet begin a postural dance that can magically occupy two worlds. This banality, in the sphere of the unnoticeable, is astonishingly rich. Being both inside and outside at the same time is like taking a peek at a superhuman omnipresence (fi gure 5).
Windows are responsible for specialising the intimate uses of architecture. The position in relation to windows means that reading, sleeping or working spaces appear around them. Closeness to windows entails excess noise or lighting that hinder sleep or concentration, while distance from them generates a white noise that favour activities such as reading or studying. The rhythms of the outside, light currents of air and even the movement of life outside window frames help to ensure that the eyes do not strain. These unintended gestures, full of social and cultural meanings, are a fertile source of life. Does not the window provide a way of understanding the world that coincides with that of architecture itself? Does not the gaze of architecture transcend that of the eyes themselves?
The imaginary universe that windows create is not limited to visuality, it also affects the touch and the material nature of the world. Sometimes, the wind blowing on curtains or condensed steam on the glass produce strange sculptures on windows. Misty windows are irresistible canvasses for children-nobody enjoys windows as much as they do, although the real masters of the spaces around windows are cats. Is this material, historical or psychological universe poorer than the one offered by the highest standards of contemporary industrial carpentry? Is there any substantial contribution to architecture, however small, resulting from the war of patents waged in the world of aluminium profi les, the inebriated dance of the tilt-and-turn frame or the eco-trans-political imbalances veiled behind the consumption of extra-clear glass?
Leaning out of a window is a social act full of meaning. Looking or being looked at from the outside reveals a strange defencelessness. The meeting of eyes that look from inside and other that do so from outside causes an unsustainable situation that has been repeated since the dawn of humanity. The window is the place where someone yields. The veils around windows protect us from these contacts like eyelids. That is the reason why, in addition to issues related to thermal control, windows require curtains, lattices and net curtains, with all their fi ltering power. One's own freedom and the freedom of others collide on this border. Do we have the right to invade, even with the gaze, the homes of our neighbours? Always and ironically, windows are indiscreet. The social and historical weight of this simple frame is as endless as architecture itself. Even their position with respect to the fl oor hints at social differences. The lowest and most unprotected windows are echoes of the working class and poverty. For centuries, in many cities, residences paid taxes depending on the number of windows they had. In England, contrary to all notions of health, taxes depended on the amount of glass in the holes of windows. 21 A social and economic history leans out of every hole in a building's façade.
While doors protect and their iconography orbits the universe of the impenetrable and solid, the intrinsic vulnerability of windows exposes rooms to the thousands of dangers outside. Burglars enter through windows. The gender debate in architecture also becomes visible here. Literature has placed the dangers of the female soul near the precipice of these black holes. Everything that happens in this rectangle, mysteriously, ends up affecting society through a historically proven chain of transmission. A window broken on the cover of darkness is more than the fi rst sign of the ruin of a building; it could mean the moral degeneration of a country.
Even so, and despite the dangers and the meanings attributed to the iconography of the window, the storm of signs whirling around it, the most powerful meaning continues to be that of child-like curiosity. Windows offer the fresh innocence of a new gaze: "They open a redemptive gap, they are a starting point for the future or for a daydream of the past and represent the best vantage point to admire the world". 22 The depth of that curiosity is made up of cultural and historical layers-rather ¿Nuevas miradas?
New in-sights?

SANTIAGO DE MOLINA
La ventana como símbolo del mirar del arquitecto The window as a symbol of the architect's gaze Si las puertas protegen y su iconografía orbita en el universo de lo inviolable y de lo sólido, la vulnerabilidad intrínseca de las ventanas expone la habitación a los mil peligros del exterior. Los ladrones entran por las ventanas. El debate de género en arquitectura también aquí se hace visible. La literatura ha situado los peligros del alma femenina en las inmediaciones del precipicio de esos huecos negros. Todo lo que le sucede en ese rectángulo, misteriosamente, acaba afectando a la sociedad por una cadena de transmisión históricamente probada. En otro orden de cosas, en un vidrio roto con nocturnidad asoma más que la primera señal de la ruina de un edifi cio: puede manifestarse la degeneración moral de un país.
than matter-that relate to the very being of architecture. Windows are, therefore, places from where we, from inside, contemplate the whole world by looking (fi gure 6). Windows symbolise a way of looking of architecture that goes beyond the mere instrumental function of the eyes.
Windows concentrate the gaze of the architect; they are, therefore, equal to "looking attentively". "So many things in the mind would be transformed before our eyes if our attention span increased a little!", claimed Valéry. 23 Every window represents the concentration of sensitive energy on a point. Therefore, each one becomes the representation of the act of attention. Looking from the window beseeches us to select the world until we "come to see what seeing means". 24 Despite their formal simplicity, despite being nothing more than a rectangle, each window makes us remain, a moment longer, concentrated. It is then that architects immerse in an "attentive" state, that they become, a little, the object they are concentrating on and their borrowed eyes become their own again. That state of attentive, concentrated gaze that the window represents is, indeed, the gaze of the transplanted eyes for which Rafael Moneo expressed gratitude.
New in-sights?

SANTIAGO DE MOLINA
La ventana como símbolo del mirar del arquitecto The window as a symbol of the architect's gaze