That “the personal is political” is widely accepted thanks to the feminist movement, but that “the political is personal” seems entangled with difficult questions of witnessing, memory, history, and generational trauma. This article is about the latter: the political that is also personal, and the fear of outgrowing the timeframe of memory. Today Chile commemorates the fiftieth anniversary of the American-backed coup d’état that ended the democratically elected government of the Chilean socialist president Salvador Allende (1970-1973). The number of years — fifty — matters, because it marks the end, or at least the beginning of the end, of a generation of first-hand witnesses and victims.
Homelessness—the state of having no home—is a growing global problem that requires local discussions and solutions. In the face of the coronavirus pandemic, it has noticeably become a collective concern. However, in recent years, the official political discourse in many countries around the world implies that poverty is a personal fault, and that if people experience homelessness, it is because they have not tried hard enough to secure shelter and livelihood. Although architecture alone cannot solve the problem of homelessness, the question arises: What and which roles can it play? Or, to be more precise, how can architecture collaborate with other disciplines in developing ways to permanently house those who do not have a home? Who’s Next?
Arquitecto de la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, 1972. Fundador de Teodoro Fernández Arquitectos, oficina que, desde 1992, desarrolla edificios como la Biblioteca Lo Contador, la Capilla del campus San Joaquín, la Facultad de Comunicaciones, la Facultad de Teología y la Biblioteca de Derecho de la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, junto a edificios públicos como el MOP de La Serena, la sede central de la ONEMI y el Edificio Moneda Bicentenario en Santiago, entre otros.
