Space can be defined as the land we stand on, the environment that surrounds us, the sky that is above us, as well as the physical mass underneath the land we stand on. Defining where space begins and ends is a complex matter, whether space is considered as a ‘box’, ‘the heart and pulse of a building’, or an interstellar zone of interconnected stars and planets. As the means to understand the history of our planet has progressed, humans’ notions of space also change; and as relationships to space keep being redefined, humans find new ways to situate themselves and adapt to the spaces they intend to inhabit. This research has shown us first and foremost that the meaning of space revolves around concepts of humanity. It is a matter of defining where humans stand as living beings in relation to other elements of the universe. As such, space is both tangible and intangible: it has physical and geographical referents that allow us to locate themselves in relation to lands and representations thereof - such as maps, treaties, Constitutions, celestial charts, and home leases. Also, it has a grounding energy that connects communities with one another, the same way this energy connects planets and stars on a celestial scale.
Space also has affective and symbolic qualities. It allows people to socialize, innovate, develop ideas and projects, and create value in the form of monetized profits and immaterial heritage. Space has been the centre of human speculation since time immemorial: it starts with the immediate seen and felt environment and expands beyond earthly existence. It is the meeting points of distinct histories that are interwoven. Space is also a zone of conflict and disruption because of the points of tension that arise from the appropriation of and speculation on space. In this sense, space is political, and becomes a window into uneven power relations that inform our social lives in the present. Space is a witness to the succession of memories and identities that are attached to it, as well as the scars that are left as a result of progress-driven politics, dispossession, and colonization.
For instance, the Indians of Canada pavilion (IOCP) of Expo 67 was a representation of existing tensions between Indigenous nations and the Canadian government in the late 1960s. During this event, First Nations artists re-appropriated the histories and realities of their communities and exposed them to the world on their own terms. The paternalistic stance that Canada has often taken in relation to Indigenous people was publicly rejected during the exhibitions at the IOCP. Starting by indigenizing the architecture of the pavilion, Indigenous commissioners and artists transformed this site into a standalone at the world fair. The stories and memories that are attached to the IOCP site and their legacy are still alive and remain relevant to today’s Indigenous-Canadian relations. Though nothing remains of the physical site today, the commissioned totem pole still stands in Parc Jean Drapeau. The nature of space as a zone of conflict is also visible in other sites, such as the uprooted neighbourhood of the Goose Village in Montréal and the lands around the village of Sainte Scholastique that made way for the Mirabel airport northwest of the city. These sites bear witness to the power imbalances that may exist between municipal or provincial governments and socio-cultural minorities. This is why it is important to consider space as a right for every living being, because not having a space implies to not exist.
Ultimately, whether space is defined as an existence that lies beyond the limits of the sky, or as the ultimate frontier that has stimulated explorations; space is where, as humans, we know each other and ourselves. Space can be public, and a meeting point for healing and collective commemoration of history and heritage. However, public space is also political; it is the place where discussions and debates about rights and laws that govern people’s lives happen. If, in principle, discussions around public space should consider everyone’s voice, this is not always what happens. Sometimes, the political need to develop projects that are symbols of progress - such as the Mirabel airport or Expo 67 - can overshadow the importance of communities and the lasting cultural identity they bring to a place. Furthermore, space carries an affective significance beyond the collective and the public, because the personal experiences that are tied to a neighbourhood or a particular building inform the ways that space is inhabited and transformed through time. We build and demolish buildings and neighbourhoods, in an unending process of collective construction of identity. These experiences also inform the identity of a community, and in turn, the identity of a building, a neighbourhood, and a city.
And just as the natural reserves of sand that are needed to fill spaces with buildings, houses, stadiums, roads, and theaters, are running low, space in urban environments becomes a treasure. Sometimes, there are not enough vacant spaces in a city for developing new buildings. For this reason, it is worthwhile to think how existing abandoned or unused spaces can be put to good use, and ultimately re-think urban living in a more sustainable way. A good example of such a space is the former Montreal bus terminal in Montréal’s Latin quarter. This space represents a unique opportunity for a cooperative like “Les Valoristes”, whose usual workplace is the street, to have a permanent location to attend to their clientele. Therefore, what creates a good environment and a sense of belonging to a space and urban community is a personal experience of space that is shared among individuals and communities. The energy of a space is, ultimately, as valuable as its economical and monetary value - if not more.