The Most Beautiful 

Preface of the book

Autumn 2012. When Alan Parkinson was initially thinking about producing this book to celebrate twenty years of Architects of Air, I travelled to Nottingham to experience a luminarium for the first time. I met Alan on the train and we talked in-depth about the book and about Exxopolis, the structure I was going to encounter. Having only ever seen them online, I was eager to see how these extraordinary ‘living, breathing sculptures’ had evolved from early inflatable bouncy-castlesque designs, into complex, sophisticated structures.

Seeing Exxopolis for the first time caused me to double-take as we later wove our way into the grounds of the Lakeside Arts Centre in Nottingham. The gigantic alien-like sculpture sat on the grass was vibrating, just ever so slightly, from the combined energy of the air needed to keep the structure inflated and the human forces moving around within its uncanny and organic yet geometric form. I anticipated my own exchange with Exxopolis as the luminarium calmly drew in eager explorers from all walks of life. Because of my own practice and interests in art, performance and social participation, I was intrigued by many notions of ‘presence’ and ‘liveness’, and what could be at stake in the deeply experiential nature of this encounter with Exxopolis. 

Entering through Exxopolis’ mouth-like airlock into the belly of the beast, I spent a good two or three hours removed from the frenzy of everyday life. Absorbed. Elsewhere. Moved. Relaxed. Perplexed. Peaceful. Pensive. As I drifted and wandered through the chambers and pods, alcoves and crevices, I constantly encountered shifts in my experience of the light and colour around me.

I experienced a heightened sense of my own skin and body, whilst at the same time I was suspended in a moment’s opportunity to appreciate and sense the PVC skin of the ‘body’ that stretched around and embraced me. I felt a deep sense of self in relation to seeing, perceiving and appreciating the colour that was contained within the vast, yet enclosed, space around me. 

I am conscious that, because of the subjective and unique nature of our lived experience of emotion and feeling, I can only offer a glimpse here into my own journey within Exxopolis. Similarly, as editor of this publication, I could only help to shape Alan’s unique story of his life’s work. This narrative is presented here through the huge and rich variety of texts, sketches, photos and other material; whether archival or design-inspired. It also begins to offer the reader a glimpse into the way in which Parkinson has managed to skilfully render and develop a blueprint of craftsmanship, which is profoundly manifested into the gift of experience. 

Whilst beauty shall always remain in the eye of the beholder, there is undoubtedly something most beautiful about Parkinson’s ability to continually offer visitors to his luminaria a sacred space in which to experience one’s sense of self. Furthermore, this experience of feeling and seeing, in relation to the construction of colour and light from within, operates on a register that sits somewhat outside of the capital of twenty first century commodification. 

Andrew Mitchelson, the editor