Not Apart : on Coexistence
an essay by Chun Hooi, Tan


Mixed Rice

There is a way of eating where different dishes are placed onto the same plate.

Each one is prepared separately.
Different taste, different intention.

At the beginning, everything is still clear.
Each dish holds its own place.
You can still tell what belongs to what.

But the plate is flat.

Gravy begins to move.
Slowly at first, then further than it should.

It crosses its own edge.
Touches something else.
The rice absorbs without resistance.

What was distinct becomes less so.

Not by design.
Just by being close.

Distinction, once placed in proximity, does not remain stable.

It does not need to be removed.
It only needs to be near.

Given enough time,
the difference is still there,
but it no longer insists.

It does not disappear.
But it stops asking to be seen.

This is often not noticed.

Because nothing appears to have changed.

The dishes are still there.
The boundaries still exist.

But something has shifted.

Quietly.

And once it settles,
it is difficult to recognise that anything was ever different.


Architecture often assumes that difference can be maintained.
That once separated, things will remain clear.

But this is rarely the case.

Even when elements are kept apart,
their edges begin to soften.

Not through intention,
but through condition.

Things do not become the same.

We simply stop seeing how they are different.

And once that happens,
there is no longer a reason to keep them apart.

不相分离
关于「共存之中」的一些思考- 陈炯晖


杂饭

有一种吃法,是把不同的菜放在同一个盘子里。

每一道都是分开做的。
味道不同,做法也不同。

一开始,一切都还很清楚。
每道菜各有位置。
还能分辨彼此。

但盘子是平的。

酱汁开始流动。
一开始很慢,
后来,慢慢越过原本该停下的地方。

它越过边界,
碰到别的东西。
米饭没有抵抗,只是吸收。

原本清楚的,开始变得不那么清楚。

不是刻意的。
只是因为靠得太近。

当差异被放在一起,
它其实并不稳定。

不需要被消除,
只需要足够接近。

时间一久,
差异仍然存在,
但不再那么明显。

它没有消失,
只是没有再被看见。

这种变化,往往不会被察觉。

因为表面上,什么都没有改变。

菜还是那些菜,
边界也还在。

但有些东西已经不一样了。

很轻,很慢。

等它稳定下来之后,
几乎很难再意识到,
它们曾经是分开的。


建筑常常假设,
差异是可以被维持的。

只要分开了,
就会一直清楚。

但现实往往不是这样。

即使元素被刻意区分,
它们的边界,还是会慢慢变得模糊。

不是因为设计,
而是因为条件。

它们并没有变成一样。

只是我们不再看见它们的不同。

而当这一点发生时,
也就不再有必须把它们分开的理由。