Swimming + The Senses
Eva Cantwell
Swimming has always been a form of exercise, but one
within which pleasures of specific environments were
interwoven. From the Roman military swimming pools in
the Tiber to the floating baths that used to exist in
many European cities, swimming was not just about
healthy exercise but also an awareness of water, its
taste and feel. The health benefits were credited to
the exposure to the elements and not just to physical
exercise. Many of the floating swimming baths had dark
cubicles in which people could submerge themselves in
the river, and experience its temperature, sound and
taste.
Advancements in the technology of manipulating water
coincided with a loss of respect for water itself. The
degradation of water from a profane element to
merely a means to challenge the human body can be
attributed to many factors, from the industrial
revolution to the invention of plumbing. Hydro
vulgarity can be seen in many forms from the car wash
to the garden hose. The swimming pool moved indoors to
a controlled and sterile environment, and so, much of
the inherent sensuality was lost. In the controlled
environment of the indoor pool many of the benefits of
exposure to the elements, which were once celebrated,
have disappeared.
Bathing once was an intrinsic part of swimming.
However bathing has always had subversive
associations, from the scandals of the Roman Baths to
gay saunas. It has been banished to the private realm,
and taken with it many of the sensuous aspects of
pools. Public pools, perhaps in order to distance
themselves from the hedonistic nature of bathing, have
adopted an increasingly clinical ethos.
Swimming pools today have developed into machines
merely for physical fitness rather than sensual
enjoyment. The introduction of bathing caps in 1930 is
a sign of this. For the bathing cap is the condom of
aquatic freedom, another symptom of a society with a
fear of touching. The start of the use of chlorine
around the same time has changed the waters of the
pool from profane to artificial and medical. Clocks
adorn the interior of the pool, and rope lanes are
laid down, the object is to cover the greatest
distance and to do it in the shortest space of time.
For efficient use of space swimmers are organised into
continually moving lines, this ensures nobody is able
to stop and socialise (goggles would ensure a
conversation without eye contact anyway).
In the design of modern swimming pools more
consideration is given to size and visual tidiness at
the expense of thermal stimulation. Architects strive
to circumference the largest space with the smallest
means. The cheapest materials are used without much
variation. Emphasis is continually on the visual from
quirky viewing balconies to imposing exteriors.
Much of the literature available to architects as to
the design of pools is little more than elaborations
on the Technical Guidance Documents. Advice is given
as to spatial arrangements and safety issues, but
little consideration is given to the environment in
terms of tactile or aural stimulation.
Even baths that successfully incorporate elements of
sensory enjoyment such as Zumthor�s baths at Vals are
ill-described by the text and accompanying photos.
Descriptions are merely of a visual nature, and tell
nothing about the actual experience of bathing in such
places. This is part of the growing problem of
architecture becoming an art form of instant visual
images. The manner, in which architecture is displayed
and written about in the media, with little or no
attention given to sensory invitation, results in
styles that deprive the sensory experience.
The ultimate result of this attitude to water as
merely a means of exercising the body has resulted in
the design of the lap pool. Lap pools are created for
economic and aesthetic reasons, they are long, shallow
and of maximum swimming length. Water has been
completely vulgarised into a treadmill - no allowance
is made for simple enjoyment of water. Another
development of this culture is the swimming bath� a
tub of water just adequate dimensions for one person
in which motors produce water movement to enable the
swimmer to swim furiously but not get anywhere.
Adults have trained themselves to ignore the sensory
delight of water that naturally comes to children. A
visit to any public pool on a Sunday morning will
confirm this; children splash and float unheeded in
the water while adults- nervously look on from the
banks or vainly try and do a few lengths�. The lively
atmosphere during these family sessions� is
reminiscent of the noisy delight the Romans used to
take in water. A description by the Roman philosopher
Seneca some of the sounds coming from the baths, would
not be unlike any children�s play pool.
�Then add the tough, and the thief caught in the act,
and the fellow who enjoys the sound of his own voice
in the bath; then add to them the fellows who jump
into the tank and hits the water with a mighty
splash.�
However swimming clubs are increasingly organising
series of open sea swims during the summer, perhaps
this is a form of revolt against the controlled
environment of the pool. Unlike the unchanging
environment of the indoor pool, an understanding of
tides, climate and local condition is necessary to
organise and compete in these swims. These swims are
less focused on competition and more on the general
atmosphere of the day. The main topics of conversation
after the swims tend to be the temperature and
movement of the water, unlike the typical indoor gala
where the �apres�-swim talk is based on people�s
performance and times. This heralds a return to a
belief in the regenerative powers of nature; it is
ironic that people can swim for free in the sea, a
much more sensuous environment.
Peoples growing disassociation from nature and the
loss of relevance for water have both resulted in
inanimate swimming environments. Growth in the
paranoia of disease and concern over the polluted
state of the natural environment also must be credited
for these changing attitudes. However the most
interesting reason for the non-stimulating nature of
swimming today is the disassociation of the sensual
and often scandalous aspects of bathing from swimming,
resulting in sensually uninviting environments.
Eva Cantwell studies architecture at UCD