Gender and the Built Environment Database
Gendered Space in Traditional Architecture
Traditional architectural forms throughout the world frequently demonstrate clearly differentiated spaces for the sexes, reflecting an acknowledgement of, and response to what are perceived as women's and men's differing roles, needs and natures in society. While modernisation and westernisation may result in a questioning of those assumptions, age-old building traditions nevertheless offer insights which may not only be of interest to anthropologists, but also of value to those engaged in contemporary practices of design and construction.
Catherine Keys' research into the spatial arrangements of the Warlpiri aboriginal people in Australia focuses attention on the traditional provision of domestic accommodation, or jilimi, specifically designed for single women (Keys 1999, 2003 ). This would form one of the three different types of domestic ‘camp' which also included the yupukarra (married or family camp) and the jangkayi (single men's camp). During an individual's life-cycle, and reflecting evolving domestic needs, he or she would move from one type of accommodation to another. When government agencies in the 1980s began building different housing types for aboriginal communities, it prompted a backlash from Warlpiri women who wanted a return to the traditional single women's accommodation.
Keys found that although some jilimi accommodated different generations, including women recovering from childbirth, most occupants of the traditional jilimi were older women who had been widowed, due to the Warlpiri custom of abandoning a house after a death for a certain period of time. The jilimi themselves were self-built, by the women, and comprised a combination of different natural structures articulating a mainly open-air social and activity space: wind-break, ‘shade tree', ‘bough shade' and enclosed shelter. The wind-break and shelter were placed on the eastern side, creating more personalised spaces for night-time living, and a solid boundary to the site. Moving towards the west, the ‘bough shade' and ‘shade tree' forms generated less defined areas for social activities including cooking, which being orientated outwards towards the rest of the site allowed the women occupants to survey their surroundings beyond their own jilimi. This was an important aspect of the site design: women said it made them feel safer.
Jilimi sites were sometimes created in and around existing western-style houses belonging to related family members, with cooking, washing and sleeping facilities which could be used by the women if they wanted; but mostly they were found in ‘sorry camps' at a distance from housing and services, specifically designed to accommodate mourners who had temporarily vacated their houses.
The concept of the jilimi raises the question of whether women are perceived (by outsiders) as being in some way segregated and excluded from the community or, viewed from a different perspective, provided for with zones of autonomy and privacy which may be welcome at particular times of the life-cycle. The same kind of argument has been rehearsed in relation to another traditional form of architecture, the Indian/ Hindu ‘haveli' or family house, which also constitutes a clearly gendered spatial arrangement.
Inga Bryden (Bryden 2004 ) has demonstrated that although the gendered domestic space of the haveli has been cast by some commentators as ‘prison'-like for its female inhabitants, it also represents an acknowledgement of women's difference in a particular cultural setting. In total contrast to the ephemeral jilimi structures, the haveli offers a solid built environment designed to be occupied for hundreds of years as an embodiment of family and lineage. Four-sided, on a Hindu mandala plan around one or two courtyards closed to the street by an imposing gateway, it is also three-storeyed, representing the three levels of existence: earth, man, heaven. While it seems introverted in terms of its built form, the symbolism underlying its design actually embodies a concept of fusion between house and street, home and universe which also impinges on the experience of living inside it.
On marriage, women go to live in the haveli of their husband's family, bringing only personal possessions to an environment otherwise identified with the male line. Traditionally, the inner courtyard would be the focus of the women's spaces in the home, while the outer would be identified with the men. The windows to the women's spaces would be tiny and screened, allowing a view out without observation from outside, but the dividing wall between the two courtyards was perceived as female territory with windows looking both ways, allowing a certain degree of surveillance. Although the space may appear enclosed and constraining, and women are likely to spend most of the day within its walls, Bryden's respondents point out that it also offers a sense of security and a clearly defined ‘women's space' from which women derive autonomy, privacy and also a sense of distinct identity within an extended family context. Further, it accommodates inter-generational inhabitation with a degree of comfort and fluidity.
While segregated gendered space may not automatically seem like an ideal model for modernized western societies, these examples of cross-cultural, traditional building practices do, then, highlight issues which continue to figure large in discussions around gendered design practices: safety and security for women, family responsibilities and caring roles balanced with the need for autonomy, privacy and self-identity.
Clare Melhuish
content © 2008 - gender and the built environment
Charity website design by Fat Beehive