Learning from Our Roots

by: Francisco G. Zambrano

  

          Throughout history, there have always been problems regarding expansion for places to live and work. For a time, there was room to expand out into, but as time goes on, this is becoming less and less possible. In the past and still to this day, we have simply torn down buildings and just rebuilt on the site. The problem with this is that you end up with rubbish that is no use to anyone and is then placed elsewhere that could have been used for something better. We, especially architects, must consider architecture as preservation or the changing of a building. We must find ways to reduce the waste and work with what we have. This is where we enter the modern heritage or the new “modern way of thinking.” Our modern identity shouldn’t be about everything being new and clean, but rather low cost, low tech back to our roots, making use of what we have or what is already there.

The building we were obsessed with.

            

          There are many ways to do so, though extensions and additions are the most common. The approach that we focused on in class was that of creating a parasite. Now, in architecture, a parasite is not harmful but rather a dependent addition. Most additions are basically blended into the existing structure. The difference with a parasite is that it stands apart from the existing structure in a great way. It’s funny though how we were once obsessed with these structures when we were young. This parasitic structure that I am referring to is the classic tree house. The tree house was a parasite in that it used the tree, as it’s base structure that gave the tree house its height. One modern building that takes this cue, in a sort of way, was the Hotel Everland that was designed by Sabina Lang und Daniel Baumann. This hotel is basically the tree house that is then placed on top of existing buildings so that the hotel has amazing views and a great height, without having to have an actual tall base. In this way not only are they saving materials in order to build the height for the hotel pod, thing, but they are also saving land. 

The hotel uses the building as its "tree"

           

          

The roof was used as a usable outdoor
living space.

          Another project that takes this sense of a tree house, but in a somewhat much less direct way is the Didden Village designed by MVRDV in Rotterdam, Netherlands. This structure moves the private living spaces from inside the existing structure, and moves them to the roof. This not only frees up a lot of room inside the existing building, but also creates usable space on the roof. Now you might ask, why did they not simply make a complete indoor addition and blend it with the existing building like normal people? By leaving the private living spaces in little houses and the rest exposed, it creates usable outdoor space that was once not there. This adds to the experience of being in a different place. Then the blue is very important to this structure because the structure has to make a statement and act as its own. It is somewhat of a sculpture. 

 

These stairs remind me of the
way you access a tree house.

          

          Now moving to the inside living spaces, where the staircases enter from the private spaces. The twenty-centimeter distance between the staircases and the floor emphasizes the difference between the two types of architecture. The way that the staircases enter, add to the reason for preserving the existing structure. To some, the staircases interrupt the movement of the space, yet I believe that they add to it. The staircases, besides the fact that they are completely independent of the existing structure, are able to divide the space in a respectable manner by not intruding and being in the way. Without them I feel that the space would be too big and not homely.

           

In contrast with the Didden Village,
these stairs are dependent of the tree.

          It is amazing how a parasite in the architecture world returns life rather than the customary function of a parasite.  This is what I feel where our modern heritage should head. We should try to add and preserve buildings and bring them back to life rather than just destroy and rebuild or add and blend. We should learn to highlight the old with the aid of something new. 
We must learn from the existing buildings and find ways to preserve them and learn from their mistakes and find ways to fix them by making additions, changes, extensions etc. rather than destroy and forget.

”If the past cannot teach the present and the father cannot teach the son, then history need not have bothered to go on, and the world has wasted a great deal of time.”  

~Russell Hoban

What Prada Marfa is Really Promoting

 By Jordan Grant

I know I wasn’t the only one who’s first thought was “wait, what?” when the first photo of the Prada Marfa store popped up in the slideshow. It’s a surprising and interesting concept to unravel before deeming it successful or just silly. It raises too many questions left without answers.

First of all, the location- located on US Route 90 between Valentine and Marfa, Texas. Why? Why Texas, why a small town in Texas, why outside of city limits in a completely empty landscape? To answer this, let me clarify a few points. Prada Marfa is not financed by the Prada brand. It’s financed by a non-profit in Marfa, who adopted the project of two sculpture artists (from Norway and Denmark, who met in Berlin) after they slyly created some false advertisement in Chelsea, New York City, New York. At least the artists had the approval of Prada at this point, though not any money from them. Yet it caught the sight of the non-profit that later financed the project and chose the location.

Now the sculpture enters planning and creation mode- the artists were given $80,000 to create their sculpture, which they have decided in advance that it will never see any repairs and that it will be allowed to become a broken, ruined building to fade into the sparse landscape of the site. Quoted from the artists themselves in a newspaper article, “It was produced by Yvonne Force Villareal and Doreen Remen through their nonprofit Art Production Fund, and they said last week that they intended to forgo maintenance and let time ravage the $80,000 sculpture so that ‘50 years from now it will be a ruin that is a reflection of the time it was made.’” Basically put, the adobe bricks, glass panes, plaster, MDF, carpet, aluminum and paint are going to be left without maintenance in the middle of what appears to be a desert. Already this is beginning to sound like a wasteful and ridiculous project to me.

The probable future of Prada Marfa

So 2005 comes along after 2 hard years in the making and, hooray, a celebration is thrown for the opening of a store with no working doors (wrap your mind around the irony of that). It’s a 25 foot by 15 foot sculpture with stucco walls and minimalist display that shows pieces chosen by Prada from their 2005 collection. Three days later it’s discovered that all 6 handbags and 14 right-footed shoes are missing, the glass smashed, and the words “dum dum” spray-painted on the side of the store. Though put ineloquently, the vandals share my sentiments towards the project. The creators immediately take back the whole part of the concept where the sculpture will never see any repairs and the store is quickly returned to its restored and restocked condition.

What would you find there today? Rocks piled on the ledges, holding down business cards of passing visitors. Peeking in the window at the shoes would also show you a whole lot of dead moths littering the carpet. Ruin has begun to take ahold of the building.

This project previously held for me a sense of whimsical charm, curiosity and some respect. After doing a little bit of research though, I find myself very opposed to this project- $80,000 down the drain, funded by a non-profit instead of the recipients of the glorified billboard in the middle of the desert that attracts vandalism and will one day litter the landscape with its non-degradable materials put there fully knowing that the building would never see maintenance (in theory, only time will tell if they will restore the building should it be vandalized again). It amazes me that more people have not offered commentary on the building, no more than the announcements of the opening in 2005 and no updates or concern on its current and future condition.

Sources: http://www.boston.com/travel/articles/nytimes/articles/2009/11/22/in_marfa_texas_minimalist_art_and_maximum_flavor/?page=3

http://query.nytimes.com/gst/fullpage.html?res=9A07E5DA1230F93AA1575AC0A9639C8B63

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/10/08/national/08prada.html?_r=0

Architects as Artists: The City as the Medium

By Arif Javed

            What defines an artist? I think a true artist is someone who uses a creative medium to produce a truly unique and powerful expression. What is this expression? It can be anything, from an expression of an emotion, an outcry for help, or an interpretation of some form of human spirit. Are architects artists? I strongly believe that architects have the possibility to be artists, just as much as any painter or sculptor or musician. My examinations in my past blog posts would seem to indicate that space is the paint that the architect controls and composes onto the canvas of the city. But what happens when the city is not just the architect’s canvas but the medium that is used to form the artistic expression? The group Coop Himmelb(l)au and the architect Francois Roche have both explored this in their work.

            Coop Himmelb(l)au’s 1971 project “Restless Ball” was essentially an urban experiment that used an architectural idea interpreted through a radical lens. The idea of this small, inhabitable sphere that they walked around the city in was to embody the spirit of approaching old spaces in new ways. The “Restless Ball” was both symbolic and completely literal. It was an actual, physical space that a person could inhabit and use to walk around the city. Thus, this was the concrete aspect of getting around the city in a different way and the literal modification of how someone sees the city. Symbolically, I think that Coop Himmelb(l)au were trying to show, using a radical and strange approach, that the city is not static and rigid, that architecture can be perceived in many different ways, and that sometimes the spirit of play and whimsy have a place in the architecture of the city. This “Restless Ball” was a truly powerful artistic expression, especially considering its simplicity. I think Coop Himmelb(l)au successfully used the city as a canvas to make a discourse on the spirit of change that dominated the 60’s and 70’s and how the old can coexist with the new.

            The next project that seemed to show this idea of the city as an artistic medium was Francois Roche’s I’mLostinParis project. I think that this project has some conceptual similarity to the “Restless Ball” project because they both in a way take the city and give it back to itself. I see the radical, invisible form of the Roche house as an interesting expression of individuality in the courtyard of a rather public piece of urban development. Roche covers his project in the vegetation of the site, essentially retreating within the city without changing its fabric. In this context, the fabric of the city is Roche’s medium that he uses as the driving concept of his expression. By this I mean that the architect managed to coax the materiality of the city into allowing him become a part of the city while also expressing his own individual interpretation of how the city should be experienced. The project is a completely unique way to experience the city and is thus a completely unique artistic expression of the spirit of individuality and the ability of every person to create their own view of a place.

            Defining what makes a true artist is a difficult task, but I think it can safely be said that some architects can be considered artists in the purest sense. These two projects showed me just how powerful an expression architects can produce through using the city as their artistic medium. I think at the heart of both the “Restless Ball” and the I’mLostinParis projects is the idea of that there is no one correct way to view and interpret the city. Though they are both very different works, they both manage to embody what is, in my opinion, a strong artistic expression working with the city as the medium.

Sketch of Restless Ball by Coop Himmelb(l)au

Restless Ball in the context of the city

Francois Roche's home disappearing into the city

Sources:
"I’m lost in Paris / R&Sie(n)" 23 Jan 2009. ArchDaily. Accessed 24 Nov 2012. <http://www.archdaily.com/12212>

Architecture Advertises

By Shawna Hammon
Lecture - "Strategy & Identity"

Our buildings have become billboards!  When did this happen?  Using architecture as a billboard is not a new phenomenon, but why does it seem like all of our buildings are suddenly advertisements for the latest and greatest technologies or product lines?  I thought we designed buildings so that form follows function; we are not supposed to create forms and hope that we can fit our functions into it – looking at you Gehry.

Using architecture to demonstrate the power of a company is definitely not a new idea, take, for example, the Chrysler Building by William Van Alen in 1930 and later the AT&T Building by Philip Johnson in 1984, these buildings, even to this day, still function as they were meant to, but are blatant advertisements for the men or companies that funded them; somehow this idea seems more romantic when the building still serves it purpose.

Chrysler Building           AT&T Building              Hearst Tower

A more recent example of this trend is the Hearst Tower by Norman Foster in 2006, called the “most muscular symbol of corporate self-confidence” by The New York Times; it was the first skyscraper to reach completion in New York City since 9/11.  Joesph Urban designed the Art Deco style base, which was meant to be capped with a soaring tower; Foster realized this tower 70 years later with the new and old “colliding with ferocious energy.”

Another example of architecture as a flex of the corporate muscles is the Vitra Campus, a furniture factory campus in Switzerland; it is akin to an architectural playground.  It identifies itself as an “experiment in powerfully communicative architecture,” but what, exactly, is this architecture saying?  The website proclaims that “Vitra stands for an architectural concept that unites buildings by some of the most influential architects in the world.”  The Vitra are “collectors” of architectural objects by the likes of Frank Gehry, Zaha Hadid, Alvaro Siza and the list goes on.  Why are they collecting these objects?  Simple, all of these objects are part of the shrine of power that Vitra has created.  Some of the pieces in this collection, but most especially Hadid’s Fire Station, have been accused of lacking a function entirely because the spaces are impossible to use or do not adequately serve the program they were built for.  The Fire Station has since been transformed into additional gallery space, but Vitra commissioned this work by star architects not entirely for functionality, but more for the status symbol the work brings to the furniture factory.  Perhaps Vitra is also attempting to elevate the status of the factory worker, similar to the AEG Factory by Peter Behrens and the Fagus Shoe Last Factory by Walter Gropius, with buildings that do not scream “factory.”

Vitra Factory Campus

A final example of this deliberate use of architecture as a means to advertise a product or brand can be seen in designer brand flagship stores such as Prada and Louis Voutton.  It is disgusting how much money these companies can dump into these stores.  This flagrant use of building as an advertisement for the product and power of the company is likely expected by its clientele.

Although as a profession Architects do not advertise in the traditional sense via TV or radio ads, our buildings do advertise our wares or those of the clients we have designed for.  Frank Gehry, among others, is a prime example of this.  How laughable would it be to see advertisements, like those of lawyers, on TV for architecture firms “Let Gehry design your next iconic structure.  No fees charged until you are completely satisfied!”

Just because we can doesn't mean we should.

Sources:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/09/arts/design/09hear.html?pagewanted=all

http://www.theplan.it/J/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=921%3Avitrahaus-vitra-campus&Itemid=1&lang=en

http://www.vitra.com/en-un/collage/campus/

http://www.treehugger.com/green-architecture/new-form-subsidized-housing-and-urban-intensification-living-bilboard.html

http://www.businessweek.com/stories/2005-11-16/designing-brand-building-stores

Mutable Architecture: How Architecture Progresses in Modern Society

Originally the formation and growth of cities was an almost entirely organic process. The genesis of a city was usually when group of people settled near a natural feature that was beneficial for whatever reason (cliffs or mountains for protection, rivers for a reliable water source, oceans for transportation and fishing). As the expansion of the settlement progressed, the only restrictions on buildings were generally the lay of the land on which it was being built. This is not exactly the case for modern cities. When an architect makes an addition to a city of today they must not only give consideration to things such as building codes, but they also have to make considerations as to how they choose to address the forms of surrounding architecture.

There are several ways in which an architect may choose to address the preexisting structures around the site of his building. He may choose to directly reference the style and form of the surrounding structures. Building in the same style as other nearby buildings gives a strong sense of continuity. However, it tends to limit the scope of the project and also has the danger of being a sort of fake architecture. An architect may also reference certain proportions or certain features of prior structures without directly coping them. This allows for some degree of continuity but also allows the architect a large amount of freedom. Finally, an architect may completely ignore the structural context of a site. Building a structure that is entirely incongruous is a valid way of working though it can be controversial. Peter Cook and Colin Fournier’s Konthaos is a good example of a building that respects its surroundings by remaining separate from them.

Peter Cook and Colin Fournier-Kunsthaus Graz

How does the city and the architecture within it progress in light of these considerations? Often new styles of building are met with opposition from the public and from critics. It is the architects responsibility to justify his designs. Because of this, often the second way of giving consideration to the site is the best option. This way the building the architect designs becomes more a part of the city. This method of design is most similar to the organic way in which towns and cities originally sprang up.

Despite the legitimacy of this approach sometimes it is necessary to break a few rules in order to design architecture that meets the goals that the architect wishes to accomplish and integrates itself well into the city. A great example of this is the building by Manuel Herz called Legal Illegal. This building breaks many building codes in order to create a structure that is effective. This building also integrates itself into the site in an unexpected way. The inclusion of more traditional elements both contrast the bright red structure, and tie it back into the site. The arch at the bottom of the front façade of the building is one notable example of this.

\Manual Herz - Legal Illegal

Can an Informal Campus Exist in Genova?

By Caroline Smith

Last week we discovered how Cedric Price’s 6 strategies can be related to the specific parts of my current project in the space behind the Albergo in Genova, Italy.  However this week I would like to explore how the campus model can be applied to my project as a whole, still keeping the idea of simplicity as a driving concept.  The campus model may seem complex at first, but it really can be simple when broken down into individual units. The many different programs in my current project, including both indoor and outdoor theaters, library space, lecture space, offices and other related spaces can be fit into three separate, free standing towers. But is there a way to allow ambiguity within the entire complex and still remain functional and successful for each program?

Architecture can be formal, with a formal purpose and function, but still have an informal plan. The Acropolis in Athens, which I recently had the opportunity to visit, is one of the oldest surviving examples of the informal campus. The Greeks put their most important public buildings on the tops of hills.  Each building in the Acropolis was sacred and important, but had no pattern of connection or circulation through the site, and the buildings were not orientated towards any common space. There is no one place you are drawn to stand, and no specific vantage point. The buildings do not overlap, but are completely independent serving the one very simple function that they were built for.  Still, The Acropolis was very practical and millions seek the brilliant architectural site out every year.

The more modern example of an informal campus is The Biennale in Venice. The international garden section is composed entirely of independent structures that do not have any concern for the others. They are free of any surrounding influence, but their only purpose is that of an exhibition space. The overall purpose of the biennale is so ambiguous that the informality of the campus is completely appropriate.  Each exhibition space takes into account its own simple function, similar to the pavilions of The Acropolis, while encouraging one to wander through the garden on no specific path. In this way, the entire complex is informal, but the architecture within is formal.

My question is if this can be replicated in Genova, a city filled with piazzas where surrounding buildings are designed specifically for these public spaces. It is easy to compress each program into three individual structures, but is there a way to simplify the entire site enough to create an informal campus? Is there enough ambiguity to successfully create free-standing architecture with little or no clear circulation or pattern? I already know that I must coordinate around a vantage point. In this way the spaces must be more organized than those in The Acropolis, but could there still be enough vagueness in circulation and orientation to imply an indefinite campus successfully around the gallery spaces?  Potentially, the three main towers will still have specific and simplified functions, like each pavilion in The Acropolis and the Giardini, but the circulation and gallery spaces surrounding the three structures will be ambiguous and seemingly disordered to allow one to wander through the entire informal campus. 

Design vs. Fuctionality

By: Khris Kirk

During the recent decades, architects have been trying to convey their ideas and concepts within the structures they are designing. Some architects take a subtle approach while others take a more drastic approach. When an architect take the more drastic approach, the next question to be answered is how functional is the structure. A prime example of an architect’s design not being very functional towards the program space is Zaha Hadid’s Vitra Fire Station.

            In 1981, there was a tragic fire that destroyed parts of the Vitra design campus in Weil am Rhein, Germany. The owners of the campus decide to redesign the campus and bring in well-known architects to design the different buildings across the campus. Among these buildings was the Vitra Fire Station. The company sought out an architect to build a fire station to prevent any reoccurrences of the devastating fire in 1981. This was Zaha Hadid’s first project to be built (ARCHdaily).

            Hadid approached this project in a very conceptual way. Hadid states that the “initial study of the Vitra factory site informed our designs for the Vitra Fire Station – a building conceived as the key element within a linear landscaped zone, the artificial extension of linear patterns in adjacent fields and vineyards – designed as a connecting unit rather than an isolated object; defining rather than occupying space.” This statement can be seen in her preliminary paintings.

            As she progressed in the buildings concept, she finalized upon the idea that the building is “movement frozen”. “A vivid, lucid expression of the tensions necessary to remain ‘alert’, to explode into action as required. Walls appear to slide one across the other, main sliding doors form a ‘moving’ wall” (Zaha Hadid Architect). Hadid took the concept of how firefighters live their lives and transformed it into a building, which still keeping true to her preliminary paintings.

            Hadid’s concept for the building is great. However, as a functional space, it is not so great. The layout of the fire station is a great representation of her complex concept of movement. The interior space is a series of walls that are bent, tilted and broken to accommodate the program space is inserted between the long, narrow planes sliding past each other. Then, the second floor is slightly off balance from the first floor, which creates a sense of spatial instability (ARCHdaily). By having the floor plans of the fire station conveyed this way it does stay true to the concept of ‘movement frozen’, but makes the whole space difficult for a firefighter to use effectively.

            A firefighter is suppose to be able to get his gear immediately and then proceed to the fire truck in the fastest way possible; so he can get to the fire and save lives. By making the fire station so engulfed in the concept, it makes the space for a fireman impractical to use effectively. In fact, eventually the firemen could not handle the living space and functionality of the building that they left the facilities. When the people of the program cannot use the space in the best functional way and end up leaving because of that reason, shows how poorly the building was designed. It is great for an architect to have a great concept that he wants to convey in the building. However, there is a point when functionality over-rules the concept, and Zaha Hadid’s Vitra Fire Station is the perfect example of how a concept was taken too far away from the functionality of the program space. Therefore, architects should try and create a concept to use for the foundation of their idea for a building, but should keep in mind how it will functional work for the program space they are designing.   

Links:
Zaha Hadid Architects, Fire Station
ARCHdaily, Vitra Fire Station
ARTchitectural, Zaha Hadid, Vitra Fire Station

Didden Village: A Parasite That Helps

Didden Village: A Parasite That Helps

By Rachel Gamble

The term parasitic architecture suggests a kind of structure that, like a parasite, grows off a host building and absorbs its energy, yet gives nothing to the pre-existing structure in return. The term seemed initially exploitive to me. However, the works discussed during the lecture proved that parasitic construction does not damage existing architecture, but can actually allow older buildings to evolve and retain their relevance. In some instances, like the Didden Village by MVRDV, we see that a parasitic addition to a building can provide a fresh and contemporary perspective to an existing structure. This “parasite” allows the host building to progress and fit its time, rather than become antiquated.

The Didden Village in Rotterdam is a rooftop addition to a residential building. It was designed by MVRDV to collaborate and mesh with the existing residential building, rather than damage it as the name “parasite” suggests. Instead, the addition is an example of complimentary architecture – architecture that respects what already existed in the site. By layering a pre-existing older building with a modern structure, the rooftop structure gives a fresh and exciting feel to the less interesting older building. Painted in bright blue to mimic the sky, the building revolutionizes the old traditional skyline of the surrounding homes. Here we see how parasites can be applied to older architecture to revitalize and awaken the aesthetics of pre-existing buildings.

The parasitic addition to the Didden house also provides alternative ways of living for the family in residence. The addition to the older structure consists of new bedrooms for the family, which take the form of three separate smaller houses on top of the building - one for the parents and two for the children. A miniature out-of-scale village is thus produced on the roof by way of the implied plazas and streets that exist between the small houses. Park benches and tree were added as well to create a pseudo-park. Parapets divide the new “village” from the streets blow. By studying the addition, we see that parasitic structures can successfully increase the living space within their host buildings. The result of Didden village addition, for instance, is a building that is larger than the original but still takes up the same amount of space on the streets of Rotterdam, due to it being a vertical addition that rises rather than spreads. Thus, the addition allows the pre-existing building to be used more intensely and effectively. This leads me to wonder whether parasitic vertical additions such as the Didden Village can help solve the need for more space as the population of urban areas continues to expand. Parasitic architecture can lead to innovative new methods for employing space, as we can see in the Didden Village.

The Didden Village shows how effective parasitic architecture can be, in more ways than one. The placement of the bedroom on the roof of the Didden residence solves the need for more space, providing new ways of living for the family, and also establishes an exciting new roofline to the area. Due to this addition, the Didden residence has become a pastiche of different structures from two time periods. The result is a versatile, adaptive building that tells the architectural story from more than one part of history. The new addition makes the old building fit contemporary needs. It brings to mind a quote from famous urban planner Jane Jacobs: "Old ideas can sometimes use new buildings. New ideas must use old buildings." We should not disregard older buildings as architecture becomes increasingly advanced, but instead look for their potential and consider how we can make them relevant again. The Didden village shows how parasitic architecture can impact older buildings in positive ways – by allowing them to expand to satisfy changing needs in society.

New skyline

New living spaces

Sources

Jacobs, Jane. "The Death and Life of Great American Cities." New York: Random House, 1961.