Issue 35: The Architecture of Structure

How frames become institutions

GALERIA LOCAL

by Jorge Silva

Welcome — and thank you for reading.

Last week’s issue opened with a simple idea: before we reason, we frame.

 Human beings make sense of reality by gathering experience into images that stabilize perception. Imagination, in that sense, provides the first structure through which the world becomes intelligible.

 This issue continues that reflection by moving one step further.

 If imagination provides the frames through which reality becomes thinkable, societies eventually translate those frames into structures. Institutions, cities, and shared forms of organization arise from this same impulse to stabilize experience and coordinate action. What begins as an image or a metaphor can slowly crystallize into systems that guide behavior and shape collective life.

 The second essay explores this movement from frame to structure — how the images that organize perception can eventually become the architectures through which societies operate.

 

After the essay, the newsletter returns once again to the street.

 In Narrative Layers, I share another short chronicle from recent photographic wanderings in the city. These brief encounters rarely appear in the final images, yet they form the living context in which photographs are made. They are fragments of observation — small situations that reveal how many different temporal layers can coexist in a single place.

 This week’s story takes place on a quiet street where a row of small houses survives between taller apartment buildings — a narrow pocket of continuity inside a city that is slowly transforming.

—Jorge

Structures of Action

If imagination provides the frame within which intelligibility becomes possible, another question immediately follows: how does that frame become stable enough to guide action?

Images alone do not organize collective life. For a frame to endure, it must become embedded in structures that orient behavior. Once stabilized, a frame ceases to be merely a way of seeing; it becomes a way of acting.

This transformation marks a decisive threshold in the organization of human societies. Images that once gathered perception into meaning begin to crystallize into institutions that regulate relations between individuals.

A constitution defines authority.
A market defines exchange.
A legal system defines responsibility.

Each of these structures establishes a field of relations within which action becomes predictable. They stabilize expectations and coordinate behavior across large numbers of people who may never encounter one another directly.

The frame has become operational.

Institutions therefore function as collective frames of action. They define what counts as legitimate behavior, what counts as obligation, and what counts as transgression. Once such a structure exists, individuals no longer need to negotiate every interaction from the beginning. The structure itself provides orientation.

A contract presupposes a legal order.
Property presupposes a system of recognition.
Authority presupposes a hierarchy that others acknowledge.

These arrangements allow cooperation to scale. Without them, complex societies would remain fragile and intermittent.

Yet stabilization introduces a tension. Structures make coordination possible, but they also shape the range of actions that appear natural or conceivable within a given system.

People act within frameworks they did not individually design. They inherit institutions whose assumptions guide behavior long before those assumptions become visible.

Agency therefore operates on more than one level.

One level concerns decisions made within an existing frame.
Another concerns the capacity to modify the frame itself.

This distinction helps explain why structures often persist even when their limitations become apparent. Institutions accumulate habits, expectations, and incentives that align behavior around them. Over time they acquire inertia.

At the same time, no structure can function without leaving space for improvisation. Human action cannot be reduced entirely to rules. Every system depends on a constant interplay between stability and spontaneity. Structure provides continuity; improvisation introduces variation and adaptation.

Societies that cultivate only rigid structure risk stagnation. Societies that rely only on improvisation struggle to accumulate complexity. Durable institutions tend to emerge where coordination and experimentation coexist.

Structures also remain vulnerable to capture. When access to institutions becomes uneven, certain actors may attempt to shape rules, platforms, or procedures in ways that preserve their advantage. Gatekeeping, restricted access, and preferential arrangements can gradually transform cooperative frameworks into instruments of exclusion.

Yet such dynamics rarely operate in a purely unilateral way. Structures endure not only because they are imposed, but because they are inhabited, accepted, and reproduced through everyday participation. Power circulates through the same systems that it shapes.

For this reason the vitality of a society depends not only on the stability of its institutions but also on the capacity of individuals to reinterpret and renew them.

Structures guide action.
But individuals remain capable of questioning, adjusting, and reshaping the frames within which they act.

Imagination first provides the frame through which the world becomes intelligible.
Structures transform that frame into a field of coordinated action.

And within those structures, the possibility of renewal always begins again with the individual.

Narrative Layers

Last week I shared the first of these chronicles from my walks through the city.

They record some of the situations and encounters that occur while photographing, providing a small glimpse into the circumstances surrounding the work.

This week’s chronicle returns to the same area.

CARLOS

The next day I returned to roughly the same area in Algés, again with about an hour available. The sky was clear.

I parked near a small river and started walking around.

Then I noticed a row of houses. They were small, one floor only, squeezed between much taller apartment buildings. The contrast was abrupt. The houses looked like remnants from another time, as if the city had grown around them and closed in.

by Jorge Silva

Clothes were hanging outside to dry in the sun. Shirts, towels, small pieces of fabric moving slightly in the breeze. Everything felt quiet, almost self-contained.

It seemed to be a small Black community living there.

A man was sitting outside one of the houses.

He was wearing a loose blue robe made of a light synthetic fabric. When he noticed me looking, I raised my hand in greeting. He waved back immediately, relaxed.

His name was Carlos.

Thirty-three years old. His parents came from Guinea-Bissau. The house behind him was the house where he grew up — his parents’ house. He told me he now owns another house nearby. Soon he will be getting married.

He spoke openly, without hesitation or suspicion. I asked if I could photograph him and he agreed without thinking about it too much. I made a few portraits while we talked, the bright sun overhead.

by Jorge Silva

After a while I continued walking.

Those houses will probably disappear at some point. They are already surrounded by taller buildings on every side. The city is already pressing in around them.

But for now they are still there.

Clothes drying in the sun.

A man sitting outside his family’s house, preparing for his wedding.

Sometimes the city changes slowly enough that two different times can still exist in the same street.

For the moment, this street remains.

Just as we draw borders around green space, we also frame what feels unruly within us. The tension between design and wildness is not only urban — it’s emotional. Arcadia invites a doubled gaze: outward, to the city’s quiet negotiations with nature; and inward, to the ways we soften, shape, or silence what cannot be fully contained. What grows in these margins — of land or of self — reveals something essential.

by Jorge Silva

Visita Guiada

The visual elements of a space, of a landscape, play a fundamental role in constructing the familiarity we call memory. The chromatic palette, the rhythmic density, and the vertical and horizontal distribution of forms give each place the singularity of a fingerprint.

Visita Guiada is my photobook exploring memory, landscape, and the visual traces through which places become familiar.

The book is available here.

Coming Next:

New interview series

A new interview series is in preparation — conversations with voices from the international photography world as well as thinkers and practitioners from related fields. I’ll share more details as soon as the first conversations are ready to unfold.

The ordinary is a very under-exploited aspect of our lives because it is so familiar.”

Martin Parr

Until next time,