Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
I have always found myself associating art with objects and architecture with experience. Although a stubborn comparison, that is how I have come to make sense of the two discussions. With that said, I have also seen these distinctions within a particular grey area that exists between the two discussions at hand. The architectural (and temporary) exhibit, in my opinion, lies somewhere in this grey area; where its neither purely architecture nor art. The architectural exhibit is architecture in the sense that one does experience it and that it is a physically built construction. On the other hand, the architectural exhibit is also art in the sense that it involves a technology or technique in order to produce the piece. This is as though the architectural exhibit is a sculptural, function and sometimes prototypical object. Taking from the lecture on temporary architecture, I found enthusiasm in the annual exhibitions held at the Serpentine Gallery in London’s Kensington Gardens.
THE SERPENTINE GALLERY PAVILIONS
London’s Serpentine Gallery has hosted successful examples of what I would nominate as architectural exhibits for just over the past decade. The Gallery hosts an annual showcase of sorts, each year selecting a new architect to fill the lawn just outside the Gallery. A few projects really stand out as examples in pursuit of making my point between architecture and art.
The Pavilion of 2002 by Toyo Ito and Cecil Balmond is an example of prototypical construction and techniques. From structure to detailing, this pavilion demonstrated a high complexity of new joineries and conditions of construction. Another great example, for its constructed structural ingenuity, was Alvaro Siza and Eduardo Souto de Moura’s Pavilion of 2005. Both of these pavilions offered a great sense of space where planes were somewhat delineating horizontal ground and ceiling lines and verticals.
The Pavilion of 2009 by SANAA on the other hand featured a more ambiguous relationship between horizontal and vertical readings of the space. Supported by a forest of extremely slender columns, this pavilion seemed to simply be a floating plane above the ground line. The pavilion separates itself from purely an art exhibit by way of its materiality in the floating plane. A mirrored surface covers the ceiling of this floating plane. Due to this material adjustment, the pavilion is immediately activated as an experiential event as reflections dominate and distort your visual interpretations of the space.
Lastly and quite possibly my favorite was the Pavilion of 2011 by Peter Zumthor. Structurally and constructively, this pavilion was an example of simple and efficient wood framing project. However more impression is the experiential effect the pavilion has from the outside going in. From the exterior, the pavilion is completely undescriptive and void of any hint of what lies beyond its walls. A successful and slowly revealing passage allows you to slip between two double walls. Light and perspective vision is only directed at the Zumthor’s discretion. Upon traversing these double wall cavity you find yourself immersed into a courted indigenous garden.
Alessandro Giulio
SOCIAL HOUSING IN HISTORY
Spanning roughly between the eighteenth and nineteenth century, Europe underwent an apparent inflation of population caused directly by European immigration. The Industrial age brought about new jobs in newly developed industries. By that point in time, the working class accounted for a great portion of each state's wealth and success. By consequence modern movements, across Europe as a whole, were closely adjusting to the inflations in population. Social housing became a popular commission of work for many of the modernist architects of that day. With new lifestyles of the cities came new architecture for their inhabitants. It was a time of rebirth in a sense that brought forward modernity in the realms of social housing.
Common themes began to spring in the wake of the early social housing movement. Modernity strived to bring forward fast, inexpensive and often simple architecture for the success of social housing. Prefabrication took a strong role in these regards. For example, Le Corbusier had presented the infamous Maison Domino in 1914 as a prototype for both easily reproducible and modulating architecture. Years later in 1927, the Weissenhof exhibitions in Stuttgart served as yet another prototype development of richly defined architecture for new housing. Around this same time rose Karl Ehn’s Karl Marx Hof in Vienna, where the arrangement of social housing units nearly formed a fortified town with a large open court in the middle. This notion of valued architectural practice in social housing has since continued into our present day.
SOCIAL HOUSING IN OUR PRESENT TIME
Although a great deal of time has past, projects like Le Corbusier’s Unite’ d’Habitation and Jean Nouvel’s Nemausus has some similar aspects. Both of the projects were designed with social interaction in mind. The two projects form their own small villages, fully sustaining spaces for work, play and sleep. They are centers of sustained activity, exchange and healthy living. Their human experience are somewhat similar as well. Both of the projects display careful design of daylighting and interactions with the natural elements. Balconies and patios are implemented into both of the projects in order to activate outdoor space and dynamic facades. Circulation between and across floors are equally represented accordingly in both projects. Dissimilar to Nouvel’s Nemausus, Unite’ d’Habitation was originally designed to be nearly a self-sustaining complex. Recalling Le Corbusier’s often industry-driven architecture, Nouvel displays homage to Le Corbusier by designing Nemausus to resemble two fleeting ships.
Technologies play a significant role in the facades of our present day social and complex housing. With an increasing desire to unitize and modulate each apartment, technology has allowed architecture to transform at a moments notice. Take for example the Housing Carabanchel by FOA in Madrid with its remarkable facade. The project utilizes a double skin facade, with operable bamboo shades that create a randomized pattern of openings and closures. These dynamics work both aesthetically and physically for residents of the building and surrounding community.
Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
Chances are, you already know the effects of bad architecture in retail spaces. The positioning and layout of space intended for displaying objects is more crucial than one would expect. Take for example our common department stores. How often have you found yourself disoriented in a mass of department store merchandise poorly laid out? And how often were those times due to strange circulation patterns and ambiguous vision caused by floor to ceiling mirrors? I have found myself judging such spaces throughout my adult life living in constant hustle of Chicago and experiencing such spaces first hand. The lecture from which this text follows introduced some great retail architecture designed by leading architects of today. Among these architects were Renzo Piano, Herzog & deMeuron, OMA and Elmgreen & Dragset. The majority of the works presented in the seminar were those commissioned by the Italian clothing company, Prada. Having realized the importance of strong architecture in the retail environment, Prada has since commissioned notable work for architects in pursuit of enabling architecture as retail leverage against other worldwide competing clothing companies.
RETAIL ARCHITECTURE FOR PRADA
As mentioned before, Prada’s initiative for superior retail experience was driven by finely executed design and architecture of their retail spaces. Since its conception, Prada has stood for one of Italy’s top and most elite of clothing companies. It should come as no surprise how Prada believed in clean and finely articulated architectural space. Take for example, OMA’s New York Prada store. The original building was retrofitted to house the merchandise in a fresh and elegant design, allowing for crafted materiality to take over. A double-height space is partially taken up by both a waving and stepped wooden structure. From the stepped portions of the structure, shoes and clothing have taken their place neatly along the edge. The natural palettes of wood and concrete found in the space are adequately contrasted by a vibrantly colored mural along the length of the store. In my opinion, this is Prada’s way of showing the power of displaying few items at a time as oppose to confusing and annoying a customer with abundance and multiplicity.
RETAIL ARCHITECTURE AS ART INSTALLATION
Amidst the Donald Judd dominated area of Marfa, Texas stands Elgreen & Dragset’s Prada Marfa installation. Essentially a sealed and inaccessible store, this installation remains an unusual endeavor fronted by Prada. Distant from any particular busy street, this installation appears to have been dropped from the sky, clearly unrelated to the Texan desert scenery surrounding it. Quite an eerie experience to find an uninhabited space in the middle of the desert, Prada attempted to make a powerful impression on the visitors of the Marfa Prada “store”. From what I’ve understood, the Marfa store is a statement by Prada; the Prada items art, regardless of whether you find them in the installation or in their stores.
Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
Decades following its closure during the second world war, the Association for a Jewish Museum reinstated the Jewish culture of Berlin with their opening of the New Jewish Museum in 2001. Designed by the Poland-born Jewish architect Daniel Libeskind, the Jewish Museum takes on an emotionally dynamic approach towards the horror of Jewish life during the second world war. Every space is meticulously crafted for the senses of fear, anxiety, unease and salvation, to just name a few. The entire experience through the Jewish Museum is one that continues to change throughout its course, leaving one forever changed in perceptions of history and empathy.
EMOTIONAL CONCEPT
The formal arrangement for the Jewish Museum is most simply explained as a straight (partially underground) line interrupted by three cross-paths. Each of these paths are represented as individual axises intended to display the three transitions of Jewish life as it was effected by the second world war. Libeskind went as far as naming them the Axis of Exile, Axis of the Holocaust and the Axis of Continuity. Each individual axis cuts through the initial underground passage and branches off into separate “voids”. These voids provide strong symbolic and emotional meaning to the Jewish Museum and Libeskind’s underlying concept.
THE VOIDS
Each of the voids hold their own character, architecture and symbolism. Three separate experiences are suggested by Libeskind. Having just recently visited the Jewish Museum, an account on my very own experience would seem most appropriate.
The first void I encountered at the Museum was the Holocaust Tower. A heavy pivoting door stood at the end of a long underground corridor. From the illuminated corridor I traversed the threshold of the door. The tower was a rectangular prism with one acutely angled corner. The walls seemed to extend so high as though to suggest they were meeting a dark midnight sky. The only, and and extremely minimal, daylight slipped into the space from a vertical slit along the acute corner of the tower.
Continuing into the Museum, I came across the Garden of Exile. Another long corridor, this time with a view of the exterior. A glass door separated the interior from the exterior. Forty-nine massive piers dominated the garden in a seven by seven grid. The groundline and columns were tilted at different angles, furthering the sense of distortion and confusion.
The last void was by far the most emotionally dynamic of the three experiences. The void, designed by Libeskind but installed by the Israeli artist Menashe Kadishman, was accurately named the Memory Void. Kadishman’s art installation comprises of some 10,000 steel “faces” that cover the floor of the void. The steel faces are a startling and eerie memorial to innocent victims of war and violence. Perhaps the most heightening experience was walking over these faces. With each step I was reminded of innocent lives, the faces I was currently stepping on and the clanking sounds of unsteady steel beneath my feet left a lasting impression on me.
Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
In all honesty, there is so much I could talk about on the subject of this year’s 13th annual Venice Architecture Biennale. The entire experience was thought-provoking and awe-inspiring, to say the least. Lucky for us students, we had heard this was the first successful ‘architecture’ Biennale in a long time.This experience of the Biennale proved to be an advantageous excursion through architectural thought and execution; a valuable experience. The Venice Biennale made a lasting impression on me and I wish to continue to attend in the coming years, bringing along friends and family.
L’ARSENALE di VENEZIA
The main space for the exhibitions of the Venice Biennale take place in the historic Venetian Arsenale. Although impressively restored and maintained today, the Arsenale dates back to the 12th century where it was one of several buildings that comprised the complex of Venice’s state-owned shipyards and armories. The Arsenale, as used by the Venice Biennale 2012, featured a long one-way circulation from start to finish. I found gentle circulation to be a pleasing transition between exhibits. This allowed for the experience to feel more like an architectural journey as oppose to what we are usually confronted with in museums; arbitrary mixes of ‘wandering’ and colliding circulations. Upon entering the Arsenale stood the Biennale’s exhibition title, Common Ground along a blank wall. Beyond this wall, the Arsenale would reveal itself slowly, room by room. Each room hosted the best work by notable contemporary architects and was truly an incredible display of great thought and reasoning with the accompaniment of drawings, sketches, models and ‘architectural project artifacts’. I felt that the time we were given at the Arsenale, to basically walk through, was the most fruitful of visits we took in Venice. At my own leisure, I examined everything. In short, the passage along the Arsenale, surrounded by so much inspiring work, was an overwhelming experience.
I GIARDINI della BIENNALE
The Giardini della Biennale, was a complete surprise to me. I had never heard of the Giardini before and was of course excited to take the visit when Giuditta handed us the itinerary. The Giardini was an incredibly powerful experience. Apart from the lush waterside landscape, the pavilions stood clear in the locations of the Giardini. With nearly 30 nations participating this year in the Giardini, the amount of national work (and pride) was inspiring. Each of the nations have built their pavilions over time and for each year Biennale year, the pavilions are refitted to match their exhibitions demand. The severity and willingness of each nation to showcase their greatest work was most exhilarating. Having studied the World’s Fairs of the past in various classes, the Giardini was the closest experience to such international showcases of leading works of architecture. It was really amazing to have been exposed to so much progressive thinking.
by Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
What is understood by the term ‘interaction’ in the context of landscape? We could essentially argue that we interact with nature every time we find ourselves in open landscapes. As true as that may be, we have grown accustomed to our very own changes in nature when we built bridges to cross rivers or built tunnels to cut through mountains. When was the last time you swam across a river or hiked over a mountain? The idea of doing so is quite impractical to most and thats understandable. In a sense, we have forgotten the true interactions between us and landscape.
THE MOSES BRIDGE
Originally dating back to the 17th century, the West Brabant Water Line served as a defensive moat until the 19th century. Located in Halsteren, the Netherlands, the West Brabant Water Line offered the first line of defense for several fortresses. In 2011, architects at RO&AD unveiled their restoration of the West Brabant Water Line bridge. Unlike our preconceived idea of the bridge, RO&AD designed a bridge to cross the West Brabant at the waters edge. The Moses Bridge, as RO&AD called it, allows for visitors to traverse the West Brabant on their way to Fort de Roovere. Presently, the Fort de Roovere hosts recreational grounds for cycling and hiking in Halsteren.
SENSORY
The Moses Bridge is, without a question, a sensory experience between user and nature. The project’s concept is as awe-provoking as its execution. The Moses Bridge was carefully designed to maximize sensory experience and minimize strain on natural impact. From a distance along the banks of the West Brabant, the Moses Bridge is practically immersed within the landscape. Upon crossing, RO&AD continue to inspire the sensory journey across the West Brabant. The width of the Moses Bridge is wide enough to suggest the importance of individual experience. The Moses Bridge gently steps along with the existing sloping terrain. A rich contrast in materiality marks the division between design and nature. Along the entire length of the Moses Bridge, you move leisurely with the earth and waters edge at arms reach.
PRACTICALITY
Perhaps an equally inspiring feature of the Moses Bridge is the execution of the project itself. There are reasons why this sort of ‘bridge’ isn’t done so often. As suggested before, the width of the Moses Bridge is small enough for ‘two-way’ traffic, a ideal reason for reducing the amount of excavation of earth. The stepping portion of the Moses Bridge is designed so that there is never a loss of connection to the ground plane at your arms reach. The Moses Bridge is predominantly constructed of Accoya wood and that when treated with a non-toxic anti-fungal coating is far more durable than most tropical woods. The entire stretch of the Moses Bridge is designed with pure forms and minimal variety of materials. From one side to the other, connection between earth/bridge and water/bridge is warmly complimented by selected materiality.
Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
Located in the quiet seclusion of London's Hyde Park, lies the Diana Memorial Fountain designed by the architect Kathryn Gustafson. Since its opening in 2004, the Diana Memorial Fountain has attracted the masses in pursuit of both respects to the late Princess Diana and for personal contemplation. The fountain plants itself ambiguously within the spectrum between organic and engineered landscape architecture. The acuities between Space and the Senses are (in my opinion, of course) the hidden details that make the fountain an exceptional example of contemporary sensory landscape architecture.
ACUITIES between SPACE and the SENSES
When we construct walls around a given location, we create space; closed, clearly defined and often conditional space. But how does one design and ultimately provide for a sense of place without enclosing space? This is an issue landscape architecture continues to address. By consequence, landscape architecture projects range in their success of providing a sense of space. For this reason, sensory implementation allows for Kathryn Gustafson’s Diana Memorial Fountain to be a success project of landscape architecture. It should go without saying that the fountain holds a contemplative experience from approach to interaction. The following text is an experiential narration intended to portray the acuities between space and the senses.
You make your way into the grounds of Hyde Park. You wander through the tranquil landscape and suddenly you stumble upon the fountain in the distance. The fountain, an organic egg-shaped form, cuts across the Hyde Park landscape; a small collection of people are gathered at the form’s edge. You make your arrival to the fountain, where you would be greeted by a contrast in materiality and a sense of space. The architecture of the fountain, as you begin to examine, is slightly receding in the distance and provoking within you a sense of demarcation as the fountain gently carves out the ground in which you stand on. Standing on the outside perimeter of the fountain, you feel outside. You give a glance around the perimeter, where you quickly notice the footbridges that could bring you into the inside of the fountain. So you make your way around the fountain, closely admiring the changes in the waters speed and sound, briefly looking up to realize your place between the park and fountain. You reach a small footbridge that gently leads you into the fountain’s inside. The space you encounter is quiet and as welcoming as you would want it to be. You easily find yourself in a relaxed state of contemplation once inside the fountain; distanced from the perimeter of the fountain, yet within the fountain and its reaches of sound from the waters movement. At the fountain’s edge you see the collection of people from before, yet their voices are reduced to murmurs by the soft noise of water movement. A softscape path marks your return to the outside of the fountain, but you find yourself content with your position. Sitting on the lawn, on the inside of the fountain, you realize something. You are neither in or out of the any given space, but rather you are simply within the space sensorially.
Alessandro Giulio
INTRODUCTION
The work of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe stands today as exceptional examples of modernity, construction, materiality and attention to detail. By 1940, Mies’s immigration to the United States had established his name as a globally prominent figure in architecture. He found himself director of the College of Architecture at the Illinois Institute of Technology and by 1950, S.R. Crown Hall had begun to break ground. A decade of directorship at IIT passes before Mies returns to Germany in 1962 to build one last project in Berlin, the New National Gallery. This writing will reveal the similarities and developed variances between two of Mies’s proclaimed masterpieces.
SITUATION & CONTEXT
Arrival and procession was a strong characteristic of Mies’s work. He strongly took into account the perspective and experience of users when approaching his work. Both of the projects reside within a campus of buildings. While Crown Hall is situated within an educational campus of Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago, the New National Gallery situates itself within a campus of cultural and public buildings comprising the Kulturforum of West Berlin. The processional experience for the New National Gallery is far more rewarding than that of Crown Hall. Determined by the density of the university campus, Crown Hall’s experiential approach is limited to a proportioned “floating” south porch that greets the user before entering the building. As for the New National Gallery, the building sits firmly onto an expansive base with an outdoor porch surrounding its perimeter.
PROGRAM
Although the underlying functions for each project are rather different, both projects were designed to transform for multiple programs and uses. During the academic year, Crown Hall houses the design studio classes throughout the ground level. The model shop, library and administrative offices are tucked below grade. For the summer months, Crown Hall’s ground level transforms into a large open gallery for exhibition of student work, visiting artists and design professionals. The New National Gallery, on the other hand, reconfigures its exhibitions more often, continuously adapting to exhibit needs and circulation across the ground floor. Like Crown Hall, the New National Gallery houses dense program below grade in order to liberate the ground level exhibition space.
STRUCTURE
The design of the structure system was equally important for both projects in order to execute the impression column-free ground levels for each of the buildings. The only walls that meet the ceiling, in both buildings, are chasewalls used for HVAC systems and rainwater retention collected on the roof. Both of the projects use reinforced concrete retaining walls for the lower levels and purely steel structures inset by expansive glass for the ground levels. Crown Hall, having been designed as a rectangular form, utilizes a one-way steel framing system featuring four deep girders that stretch along the short dimension. Essentially, the entire ceiling is suspended by the four steel composite girders. As for the New National Gallery, having been designed as a square form, utilizes a two-way steel framing system featuring a steel plate structural grid. The entire roof structure is supported by two columns on each of the four sides along the buildings perimeter. Unlike the finishings found in Crown Hall, the New National Gallery’s ceiling is exposed to reveal the impressive depth of the steel plate structural grid.
BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Blaser, Werner. Mies van der Rohe: Continuing the Chicago School of Architecture. Basel: Birkhauser Verlag, 1981.
Hildebrand, Sonja, Christoph Hardebusch, Michael Staffa, and Renate Pauli. Mies van der Rohe's New National Gallery in Berlin. Berlin: Vice Versa Verlag, 1995.
