A Vernacular Of Rupture
The diasporic architect in the reconstruction of Sudan
words – noor ibrahim, mohieldin gamal
location – london, uk
Suspension, space and assumption are the common concepts brought to mind by many of the audience who witness the work of artist Callum Innes. In the curation of pieces, the gallery dissolves, leaving a quiet confrontation between material, memory and time. This resonates in juxtaposition. Parallel to Sudan, where the built environment has been forced into a continuous dogma of erasure, rebuilding and disfigurement across its cityscapes. In this case, many lost spaces in Sudan, caused by ongoing political turbulence, question where one stands, and what it means to conserve, rebuild and narrate spaces in the face of conflict. And with the continued migration of many displaced internally and externally beyond Sudan’s borders, it raises questions about how the diasporic can become an architectural participant in this ongoing and cyclical reconstruction.
what it means to conserve, rebuild and narrate spaces in the face of conflict
Since 1956, Sudan has faced relentless instability – partly driven by foreign interference, crushing hopes for civilian rule. In particular, the current Sudanese civil war between the Rapid Support Forces [RSF], a paramilitary, and the Sudanese Armed Forces [SAF], known as the Sudanese army, has displaced over 11 million people internally and externally. Their displacement is not a recent feature, but a layered parallel shaped by generations of conflict and instability. Sudanese migration did not begin with this current war, but has been a continuous process due to cycles of unrest.
In the case of the capital, Khartoum, its spatial history has been a fragmented one – collaging ruptures of colonialism, the civil war in the former south and civilian displacements. Therefore, the architect’s role has never been autonomous, as permanence was often tested. Like Innes, subtractive gestures on the canvas mimic a lot of the responses to what is missing. Architectural spaces become inverted, and their presence defined by what was lost.
As many migrated internally and externally outside of Sudan, memories and spatial consciousness are reformed in new communities and geographic contexts. The concept of space becomes mobile and symbolic in the experiences nostalgically simulated elsewhere. Architecture shifts: from physical to metaphysical, from the experience to the oral, and from the physical structure to the speculative fragment.
Architecture in this state is not exercised in buildings, but in acts of remembering and translation. What emerges is a vernacular of resilience; less about form, it persists in continuity. This invisible scaffold becomes the architecture and attests against the political and physical collapse of cityscapes.
Architecture in this state is not exercised in buildings, but in acts of remembering and translation
Diasporas are not merely the result of a migration from a homeland; they are actively created through efforts of people seeking to maintain connections and build bridges back to their place of origin. Therefore, the diasporic is a living and mobile archive of reshaped identities and acts as a common datum for the changes and experiences around it. Sudanese communities abroad have developed their own modes of architectural agency, not in buildings, but in how they gather, share and reassemble nostalgic spaces with foreign equipment. Music, oral histories, poetry and media are now the structure of Sudanese architecture. The memory of a meal becomes more than its literal ingredients; it recreates moods. The table becomes a site of remembrance, and the taste is a spatial trigger.
This reconstruction abroad does not replicate Sudan, but reframes it. Varying reasons for migration have catalysed the creation of spaces where none existed. Although, instead of being objectified or formal, it is embodied and improvised. As Innes suggests, spatiality is not confined to dimensions or physical edges. It is an active field of negotiations, through perception and memory. Construction by layering. Conservation by sharing. Rebuilding is achieved by participating in collective meanings across the globe.
Returning to the physical Khartoum, the city transforms and becomes a symbolic reference. It exists in concrete, but travels in dispersions. The boundaries blurred by explosion, it is now only designed from a position of recollection. It is not grounded in materiality, but in potential. This symbolism defies conventional preservation. Questioning, how do we conserve what is half-remembered and half-imagined?
The question evolves, and reframes: are we conserving a place which no longer exists, or imagining what it can become? Diasporas, and their varied memories, blend the two parallels, and exist in this fluidity. A fluidity of identity, crafted not because of failure, but the need for survival. Spatial memories accept the presence of voids, like Innes, and reframe destroyed spaces as starting points for the rebuilding of communities’ changed livelihoods.
The evolved Sudanese identity, amongst the millions of exposed diaspora worldwide, demands a shift in the new architectures posed. To refocus, and resist the nostalgias that idealise pre-conflict spaces in Sudan – building for the new, evolved needs of the communities. Architecture must account for this evolution and reconstruct with diasporic consciousness. This consciousness is layered and has been influenced by many of the host geographies, globalised media and generational gaps of Sudanese diaspora. Architecture now should seek relevance and not replication.
This is echoed in Callum Innes’ work, his style of painting which plays with modes of destruction and becoming. Removing is not negation, but an opening to new possibilities. Similarly, architecture must give space for rupture, hybridity, iteration and participation. Designing with absence is an encouragement to reconnect using the Sudanese diasporic consciousness, giving space to the intimate, improvised and enduring. A future where memories live, and architecture breathes.
Removing is not negation, but an opening to new possibilities. Similarly, architecture must give space for rupture, hybridity, iteration and participation.
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