OBJECTS AND THINGS

To Lana

It is believed that Jacob Spon, a physician, archaeologist, travel writer, and one of the first researchers of Diocletian’s Palace in Split, introduced the term “archaeology” in its modern sense. Archaeology as a discipline seeks to reconstruct and interpret the lives and cultures of ancient civilizations through systematic excavations or accidental discoveries, both beneath or on the ground. But what happens when, in addition to horizontal layers, vertical layering occurs? What happens when the process of superposition is joined by layers arranged not only on top of each other but also one in front of another—overlapping but not erasing?
Such simultaneous stratification processes are strikingly evident in the fate of Diocletian’s Palace in Split, built around 300 AD as an imperial residence measuring 175-181 by 216 meters. During the Middle Ages, the Palace evolved into a city. While the substructures of the Palace, commonly referred to as basements, serve as textbook examples of horizontal layering, its perimeter walls reveal a far more complex vertical layering. The northern wall, bordered by a green area that provides a clear frontal view, largely retains its original appearance, but many windows punctured in its fabric reveal the life beyond. In contrast, the western wall has been almost entirely absorbed by buildings that grew on both sides during the medieval period. The southern wall, although flanked by structures on both sides, is still visible from the sea: squeezed between the ancient columns are the facades of houses built along Diocletian’s cryptoporticus. The lower part of the southern wall was fronted in the 1920s by a row of small shops, mostly jewelers and cafes, which, although unassuming, contribute to the vibrancy of Split’s waterfront. The buildings on the eastern wall, with openings and connections between its two sides, were removed in the mid-20th century and replaced by market stalls and other temporary structures, highlighting the need for more careful consideration of such sites. Far from being static barriers, the Palace walls function as spaces of interaction where the pulse of city life resonates within and outside them. These points of contact must be recognized as a key element of integration, enabling the Palace to connect with the city in a continuous network of interrelated parts.
The robust, preplanned ancient structure of the Palace, with its prominent perimeter walls and fixed elements such as the Peristyle and the monumental Mausoleum of Diocletian, has provided a lasting framework that has remained largely unchanged over the centuries, despite shifts in its function. The fixed objects, as permanent spatial landmarks and symbols, allowed a dynamic and adaptable residential fabric to develop around them. This resilient adaptability of the residential part of the Palace has been key for its preservation, as it has absorbed the necessary changes of time without losing its overall spatial integrity. The coexistence of these permanent urban forms with a flexible, anonymous urban environment demonstrates their mutual dependence: the stable framework ensures continuity, while the changes foster vitality and adaptability to urban life.
Bernard Cache, an architect and theorist, defines architecture as “the art of the frame,” designing spaces that enable life to develop freely, rather than being dictated by the existing environment. According to Cache, life takes place in the “intervals” between material elements, as the causes of life are not entirely within our control. Architecture does not create life but shapes the frames within which life can evolve. In this context, it is important to emphasize the distinction between objects and things.
Bill Brown, a cultural and literary theorist, introduced the concept of “Thing Theory” into broader discourse, emphasizing the distinction between an “object” and a “thing”. According to Brown, an object is an item that has a specific function or meaning within human activities and social structures; it is something we use, own or observe with a particular purpose. A thing, on the other hand, is an object that breaks outside of its expected use or defies our understanding, thus becoming visible in its materiality, its “thingness.”
In architecture, an object refers to a designed, clearly defined element serving a specific purpose. It is fixed in its role and forms part of a stable structure that provides a frame for interaction. For instance, the walls of Diocletian’s Palace or the Peristyle can be considered objects because they change slowly enough to be regarded as stable, permanent features that define space and supply identity to the city and its citizens. Conversely, a thing denotes an element that is not defined or constrained by a specific function. Things are dynamic and changeable, and often reflect the current needs, habits, or context in which they exist; they are transient, flexible, and easily adaptable to temporal or spatial circumstances. Things are associated with the notion of life that “happens in the intervals.” They fill the gaps between objects and enable dynamics beyond strict architectural functionality.
Brown purports that “things” become visible when objects cease to function as expected or when their usual usage is disrupted. It is then that our attention shifts from their functionality to their material presence, allowing us to perceive them differently. This change in perspective reveals the “reality” of objects, otherwise obscured by our daily habits and expectations. This is precisely what has happened with the architectural and decorative elements of Diocletian’s Palace, which have been surfacing unexpectedly throughout private and public spaces since medieval times, acting as decontextualized identity markers of its “vertical,” non-linear archaeology.
During the 1980s and 1990s, many historical city centers were added to UNESCO World Heritage List, and structures like Diocletian’s Palace became not only symbols of local history but also key sites in the global cultural and tourism industry. This period saw significant investments in the restoration of ancient city centers which, upon acquiring iconic status, began to cater to global real estate markets and mass tourism, often at the expense of local residents – evident in the mass conversion of residential units into tourist accommodation.
This raises a critical issue: the identity of cities is increasingly overshadowed by their image. A city’s identity is not a mere decoration or a passive image that can be manipulated for market purposes, but a living and complex entity that must be felt, understood, and continuously reworked. The original elements of Diocletian’s Palace, encrusted by the architecture of later periods, are objects that over time have become things, and in the new context, they no longer have an identity but merely an image.
Instead of passively accepting these trends and their consequences, we must thoroughly analyze the threats to the identity of historical cores and take measures to preserve them. Rather than focusing solely on the symptoms, we should engage in constructive discussions about urban form and culture, in search of sustainable solutions. By adopting a proactive stance, we can develop strategies that balance the preservation of cities’ authenticity with their adaptation to modern needs, avoiding vulgarization and the loss of deeper meaning. This effort can be indirectly but vigorously supported by the language of true art, as demonstrated by Lana Stojićević.
Lana collects random finds of ancient fragments in various contexts including ads for apartments in Diocletian’s Palace – not to dwell on the life and culture of ancient civilizations, but rather to explore contemporary life and culture. With her artistic objects, she helps us understand how the objects of the Palace have become “things” within a contemporary context and how this transformation affects our perception of them. She confronts us with the meanings of the frames around the intervals that characterize the new distribution of living space within the ancient perimeter, addressing both physical and symbolic aspects. Just as architecture does not create life but rather shapes the frames within which it can flourish, art does not change the world on its own but does touch the people who can change it.
Ana Šverko

Lana Stojićević is a visual artist working in the field of artistic research. She utilizes performative and staged photography, costumes, and architectural models to explore themes such as illegal construction, architectural and industrial heritage, environmental pollution, contemporary neo-style tendencies, the devastation of cultural heritage, and the transformation of the landscape as a result of mass tourism. She graduated from the Department of Painting at the Arts Academy in Split (2012). She works as an assistant professor at the Department of Visual Culture and Fine Arts of the Arts Academy in Split. She has won numerous professional awards, such as the third-place Erste prize of the Youth Salon (Croatian Association of Artists, Zagreb, 2022), the Radoslav Putar Award (YVAA, Institute of Contemporary Art, Zagreb, 2021), the third-place Ivan Kožarić award (Museum of Contemporary Art, Zagreb, 2021), the Metro Imaging Award at the New East Photo Prize exhibition (Calvert 22 Foundation, London, 2016), and the Annual Award for Young Artists (Croatian Association of Artists, Zagreb, 2015). She has taken part in several artist residencies including Residency Unlimited, New York (2023), and Cité Internationale des Arts, Paris (2019).