Vermiculate

Vermiculate pronounced ver-mik-yuh-leyt (verb) & ver-mik-yuh-lit or ver-mik-yuh-leyt (adjective)

(1) To work or ornament with wavy lines or markings resembling the form or tracks of a worm.

(2) Worm-eaten, or appearing as if worm-eaten.

(3) Figuratively, of thoughts, insinuating; subtly tortuous.

1595–1605: From the French vermiculaire (plural vermiculaires), from the Latin vermiculātus (in the form of worms; inlaid in wavy lines), past participle of vermiculor (I am full of worms; wormy) & vermiculārī (to be worm-eaten), from vermiculus (little worm; grub; wormlet), from vermis (worm), from the primitive Indo-European root wer (to turn; to bend.  The noun vermiculite describes the micaceous, hydrated silicate mineral and was named in 1814, based on its fibrous nature and the reaction observed when heated, the tendency being to expand into worm-like shapes; vermiculite is used in insulation and as a medium for planting.  The most common related forms are the noun vermiculation, the adjectives vermicular & vermiculated and the verbs (used with object) vermiculated & vermiculating.

When vermiculate & vermicular are used to refer to thought processes, the suggestion is of something tortuous, intricate or convoluted.  Other terms often used in this context include circuitous, convoluted, indirect, labyrinthine, meandering, serpentine, twisting, winding, coiled, curly, curved, sinuous, anfractuous, bent, crooked, flexuous, involute, mazy, meandrous & roundabout, all based on the picture of the irregular tunnels worms burrow in soil, the idea being of paths which are far from the shortest distance between the beginning and end of travel.  This is a figurative application of zoological behavior and not a slight on worms which have their own agenda.  Applied often negatively, it should not be used to describe deep or complex thoughts.

Vermiculated terracotta block, Standard Oil Company Building, Jackson, Mississippi.

Although most associated with the vermiculated work seen in decorative stone masonry, the irregular grooves intended to resemble worm tracks have interested others including mathematicians and chaos theorists.  Engineers have also explored the idea and during the 1970s, tyres were developed with grooves cut in a random pattern (not to be confused with the asymmetric tread pattern Michelin introduced in (1965) on their XAS) rather than the usual structured geometric layout.  The idea was to lower the harmonic resonances created by the tendency of sound waves to be intensified by the recurring patterns; it was about reducing the noise generated and the theory proved sound, the acoustic difference detectable with the sensitive equipment used in laboratories but in real-world use the difference proved imperceptible.  The tyres were briefly available but, offering no advantage, the concept wasn’t pursued.

York Water Gate, England.

In architectural detailing, vermiculation is a form of surface rustication, used usually to create a decorative contrast between the rusticated work, ordinarily confined to the street level of a building (ie within the usual human field of vision) and the less finely dressed work above.  The effect is created with irregular holes and tracts being carved onto a façade, the purpose inherently decorative although some architects do like the idea of representing worms eating their way through the stone, collapsing a building into rubble and ruin, an allusion to the impermanence of architecture, conveying the message that all that is built must eventually crumble and fall.

This notion of unavoidable impermanence has disturbed the minds of the more megalomaniacal in the profession, Albert Speer (1905-1980 and Adolf Hitler’s (1889-1945; head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945 in Nazi Germany) personal architect before turning to crimes against humanity) even presenting what he called Die Ruinenwerttheorie (a theory of ruin value) in which he argued it was important the monumental structures then being planned were designed in such as way that, thousands of years hence, as inevitability gradually they collapsed, what remained would be still aesthetically impressive and endure in this form even without maintenance.  Speer’s theory wasn’t new although the spin he felt compelled to attach was inventive.  What he stressed was that buildings designed in accordance with Ruinenwerttheorie were inherently finer works and more imposing during their period of use, an wise thing to emphasize because many less sophisticated types (and there were quite a few) the führer’s entourage thought appalling the suggestion that anything in their “thousand year Reich” might one day crumble and fall.  Speer however was imagining his reputation surviving well beyond a single millennium and understood the mind of Hitler in such matters, appealing to his vision of what they were creating enduring as monuments to the greatness of the Third Reich, just as the ruins from Ancient Greek and Rome were symbolic of those civilizations.  Hitler concurred with Ruinenwerttheorie after Speer showed him a sketch of one of the gigantic works they planned as an ivy-covered ruin, the drawing very much in the vein of the pictures of Roman ruins well-known to the führer.  What had scandalized his acolytes, pleased Hitler.

40 Bedford Square, London.

As a form of detailing, vermiculation became prevalent in the mid nineteenth century and in the technical language of architecture is often called vermicelli rustification, the patterns typically deployed in stucco on cornerstones or keystones around a doorway, lending a bold textural interest to otherwise unrelentingly standardized surfaces, offering a juxtaposition with forms and lines derived from classical principles.  Although not popular as an embellishment until relatively recent times, the origin of the motif is ancient.  One of the first forms of formal architecture was the clay hut in which wormtracts were visible on the surface, made as the industrious little creatures weaved their way in and out of the earth that made up the structure.  Under the heat of the sun, the clay dried and the patterns set, creating what came to be thought an ornamental effect.  It’s from these modest structures that western architecture picked up the idea while constructing ever larger edifices, the vermiculation contrasting with the smooth, sanitized stone surfaces and becoming part of the grammar of classical buildings.

Irish Stock Exchange, Dublin.

Deconstructionists too have provided their own analysis of vermiculation beyond the relief provided from what can be an austere streetscape, claiming it “…represents a valuable counterpoint to symbolic representations of power and authority that pervade the architecture of many western cities”, one case-study focusing on the Irish Stock Exchange (1859) on Angelsea Street, Dublin which has strips of vermiculation on its granite façade.  That site was said to be a place “...where speculation of financial markets is the day’s work, the pattern might be cast as an unnoticed omen of the neoliberal collapse and loss of Irish economic sovereignty in late 2010”.  That’s probably about as abstract as anthropomorphism in stonework gets but there were in the early twentieth century those who devoted some effort to finding hidden meanings in the vermiculated patterns on the facades on Masonic lodges.  The findings were either never published or suppressed by the Freemasons.