selophane.blog

The next few weeks are going to be a bit crazy for me. As you can see by the new banner ad on the main page, the community theatre show I am producing opens in three weeks, so a lot of my time will be spent on that (if you are going to be in the DC area come and see it!). In addition, the holidays will throw a wrench in my writing time, especially because there are some applications i need to get filed by the beginning of January. Add to all of this, I just got my ARE test prep materials, so I may need to take a break from posting regularly for the next few weeks.

I will still be twittering, and If i find something interesting while wasting time online or reading an architecture journal i may post it.
(if not sooner)

Whatever you are or are not celebrating, have a happy holidays, see you next year!

Tweet This

[Image via Tulane School of Architecture .]

Tulane School of Architecture is hosting a one day symposium at the end of January focusing on Historic Preservation. The keynote speaker will be Robert Ivy, FAIA and one of my favorite professors, Eugene Cizek, FAIA, will be providing commentary. This symposium is free and open to the public. If I was able to be in New Orleans, I would love to attend.

In light of the natural and governmental disasters in the past few years and the public policy debates currently raging within New Orleans, this symposium seems slightly overdue. I am glad to see that the new Dean of the Architecture School, Kenneth Schwartz, FAIA, is doing something that should have been done years ago. The historic preservation program is one of the few distinguishing elements of the Tulane School of Architecture, it helps ground architectural education at TSA to “the place” as well as “the time.” In the time I was at school, it felt as if the program did not get as much attention and funding as some of the more esoteric modernist pursuits. At times we felt like the red-headed step children of the school.

I may not personally agree with all the philosophical and ideological teachings I was taught during my historic preservation classes, but i do credit this program for helping me make the shift from design student to practicing professional. It was the only area of my education where material interactions with environmental factors as a function of building life were ever considered critical, or even discussed; it is also the only time we were able to, never mind required to, design an adaptive reuse project. This program helped introduce students to public planning officials and organizations and better inform our understanding of the political and legal process of building and protecting structures. It also broke the design bubble fostered in many of the other studios by merging design students with masters of preservation students (MPS) who were rarely design professionals.

Tweet This

[Image via Trumpet.]

Today starts DesCours, New Orleans’s second annual AIA sponsored public art installation festival. For the next five days the public spaces all over the French Quarter and Central Business District (CBD) will be transformed into interactive design installations. Not only is this a cool chance to inhabit spaces by up and coming artists and designers, but local fixtures such as Rebirth Brass Band and the Trème Brass Band will be filling the spaces with sounds that are distinctly New Orleanian. This “Architects Week” on an urban scale is free and open to the public.

I wish this festival was around when I was living in NOLA. This is the kind of architectural design culture that was missing. There was Art for Art’s Sake and White Linen, but nothing that really embraced new architectural thought. I would love to see a similar concept come to DC or NOVA, we could really use a public celebration and exposure to interactive architecture installations.

Tweet This

Frank O. Gehry, there is no other practicing architect who has as much name recognition amongst laymen and who can cause such distress amongst architects. With his two recent projects (the Princeton Lewis Science Library and an addition to the Art Gallery of Ontario) open to the public there has been much talk about the stylistic dichotomy between them. Phillip Kennicott, in an article examining Gehry’s body of work, wrote in this past Sunday’s Washington Post:

as observers attempt to sum up his career and project his legacy, there is a growing sense that his most acclaimed work, buildings made in the style of Bilbao, have turned out to be dead ends. Rather than open up new possibilities for the architect, they seem to have left him in a rut. And as his most recent projects suggest, Gehry’s best work today may be his least “Gehryesque.”

Yet, I have to wonder if the critique’s that have been written about these two buildings and their relationship to his work as a whole have missed the forest through the trees.

The problem with analyzing Gehry’s work is that too often critics fall into the trap of comparing his buildings as individual works against the sum total of his previous work. The problem with this is two fold: first, many of his buildings are being built out of order, i.e. they were designed long before the financing, permits, and land deals came through; second too often critics are distracted by the finishes and forms of his buildings an do not look at the concept behind the skin. These issues can be mitigated if the some total of his work to date was explored not as a collective of past explorations, but rather as one large art exhibition with a common theme.

At first this idea must seem outlandish; what relationship can there be between the offices for Chiat-Day, the Gehry House, Bilbao, the Lewis Library and the Art Gallery of Ontario? The answer is volumes and skins. In everyone of these buildings (and dare i postulate, all of his buildings) Gehry has been experimenting with ways to create and mask volumes through the application or removal of a skin. The Chiat-Day office building is an exploration of volume, two large mostly rectangular prisms are separated and obscured through a binocular shaped volume (an ode to Po-Mo if there ever was one). The skin of this building was classical in nature and snug to the volumes, but still a skin; it was allowed to create non habitable spaces in an attempt to both create sculptural forms and indicate its non-structural nature; it is punctuated by punched openings which allowed views into and out from the interior volumes.

Where Chiat-Day is about volume, the Gehry house is all about skin. The house is a pretty standard house volume, but the skin has been removed in places and reconfigured in others. The drywall has been removed form the stud walls to create views of the wall structure, and a chain link fence which normally serves as a landscape skin of sorts is repurposed to skin the roof terraces.

Bilbao (and the Disney Concert hall) take this skin and volume dynamic to the next stage. The volume is wrapped in and obscured by an opaque artificial metal skin, which has been peeled back and removed in some areas to provide light and occupant access into the spaces. In the case of the Disney Concert Hall, the skin has been held back from the building in some areas to provide views of the structure, much like the Gehry house, but instead of revealing residential construction, here the armature of the metal skin and the steel support columns of the interior volumes are revealed.

In the Lewis Library (and in many cases the Stata Center) there is both an artificial skin present which is held off of the volumes as well as a very classical skin which is allowed to fit snug to the volumes. But here, the volumes are neither rectilinear Cartesian Spaces like Chiat Day nor programmatic blobs like Disney and Bilbao, instead they are deconstructed trapezoidal prisms which are not informed by the shape of the program they contain . In this way the volume skin dynamic is becoming a Russian nesting doll. The skin wraps the volume (and in some areas is broken by the volume) which in turn wraps the program elements but all are done in such a way as to reveal that the moves are deliberate and non derivative from function, i.e. these building are the antithesis of the Modernist creed - form only casually follows function.

Lastly, in the Art Gallery of Ontario, we see a more restrained skin being applied to a volume - here it is a glass wall instead of an aluminum panel. In this exploration, Gehry has taken the opportunity to create a skin which reveals the volume and structure inside through its very nature. No longer does the skin act as a barrier to the public eye, creating structured views and concepts of the building, instead it is additive to the building, opening the space and structure up for observation.

Phillip Kennicott states that he believes that “[w]hat Frank Gehry needs now is a new chapter, a last act, a purifying of his life’s work into something final and thoughtful.” I have to disagree; when viewed as i have demonstrated Gehry’s work is already thoughtful and quite pure. While it may not be the kind of legacy that stays alive with Joe Public, I feel architectural academics already have plenty to discuss. I have no doubt that future work of his will further explore ways in which volumes can interact with artificial skins, and in doing so inform the occupant and observer about the structural nature of the building. While not the culmination of his work, when viewed as part of a logical and deliberate exploration of volumes and skin you can see how this building is very “Gehryesque.”

Tweet This

In the past century we have seen the rise of polytechnic architecture, a method of building which divorces the architect from the world of art and creativity, and instead treats buildings as solutions to engineering problems and casts architects in the role of project managers, facade coordinators and space planners.  Working and living within this modern paradigm it can be easy to forget that our profession is not just about ensuring the health, safety and welfare as our licenses require, but also about creating spaces that inspire and capture the imagination.

The New York Times has an interesting article describing a new exhibit of sketches by Frank Gehry at the Princeton University Art Museum which help to remind us that architecture is more than creating big boxes for commercial and residential means. While I am not a huge fan of Gehry, and feel that he is more popular for the “cool” factor of his buildings than for the real reason he should be popular - that if you consider the sum total of his works as one examination in form, it is a very interesting exercise in mass and volume and the delamination of these masses and volumes, I am glad that someone has started a discourse about the art form that architecture once was, and could still be. The real issue here is not that too few architects sketch, but rather too few architects are given the freedom to explore and create works of art. Instead they are directed to design to meet a specific style (and sometimes meet public approval) and then produce a building within (or under) budget while creating drawings that assume that the construction team will have no knowledge of how to build a building so as to limit their legal exposure. This creates buildings that have a watered down aesthetic and take few risks.

Tweet This

Tomorrow is Black Friday, which means that the Holidays are right around the corner and with them comes the chore of finding the perfect gifts for those you are about.  If you are searching for that modernist (or anti-modernist) in your life, you might think that the new biography of Le Corbusier by Nicholas Fox Weber would be the perfect gift.  Hold back though,  if Phillip Kennicott’s review in this past Sunday’s Washington Post Book Revue section, has any bearing, <a href=”http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/11/20/AR2008112002773.html?sub=AR”>this new biography of one of the most famous and central figures in the modernist movement, Le Corbusier</a>, might not be for you.

Of course, in this biography the author, Nicholas Fox Weber, spends much of the book focusing on the swiss architect’s poor behavior and fundamental dichotomies between his architectural vision and personal opinions.  Kennicott’s review skewers the author complaining that the book is poorly written and almost unedited.  In addition, it is his belief that while there deserves to be more written about Le Corbusier, this book focuses too much on the man and his accomplishments, and not enough on the resistance to his revolutionary ideas.

Tweet This

I just finished reading an article on the Wall Street Journal’s site about the green building movement and the practical issues faced with training professionals and navigating an unstable and untested market. As a design profesisonal who keeps putting off his LEED exam in favor of other equally worthy endeavors, this article hit home. The problem with green building right now is that the market is so new and untested both for professionals and for the products. The article describes a situation similar to one I recently faced at work. An architect specified a Green product that ended up not being reliably available which caused delays and impacted budget. In the end litigation was reached. Fortunately, in my situation we were able to determine that the LEED point was unattainable even with the specified product, and that we were well within our target status (silver) so a non-LEED approved solution was found which allowed the budget and schedule not to be impacted.

This type of problem is rare in proven markets, when was the last time you heard that concrete or brick was not available? And when they are not, an alternative product usually exists and can be used without detriment to the project. The problem with the current state of Green products is that in some divisions (parts of the construction trade) there may few choices that help qualify for points, and each choice can qualify for differing points, so an alternative product may be the same monetary cost but may cause you to lose LEED credits. All of this coordination (and possible legal exposure) is one of the main reasons that LEED projects demand a high premium on the design fees.

The other major reason for the premium that LEED projects (or Green projects in general) carry (besides the increasing demand) is that the supply of trained professionals is just not enough to keep up with the demand yet. The LEED exam, while well within reach for anyone who is good at wrote memorization, is a barrier for many to achieving LEED-AP (Accredited Professional) status. In my case, every time I start to study for the exam something more germane to my career comes up. The first time it was focusing on completing my IDP, now I am preoccupied with studying for my licensing exams. Once I finish those, I am sure I will be concerned with getting my continuing education credits. Now I know these don’t take up all my time, but as opposed to when I was a student, I have more pressing things to do in my free time than read and memorize a 500 page book for instant recall. I guess the point I’m trying to make here is that, yes professionals know that we SHOULD get accredited, but until it becomes a necessity of our field, or we are offered increased compensation for our accreditation, I have a had time believing that supply of LEED accredited professionals will catch up with demand.

Tweet This

With the recent closing of many of the area’s Circuit City stores and the bleak financial forecast, this Sunday’s Washington Post article about what to do with big box stores after they close down, seemed to be fortuitously timed to impact the local planning discourse. For this article, the Post assembled a collection of local architects and artists, such as Darrel Rippeteau, Roger K. Lewis, Esocoff & Associates, et al., and asked them how they would reuse a big-box store.

The graphics in this article are intriguing and open an sub/urban planning discussion on what to do with the trappings of early twenty-first century American development once this business model has changed. The proposals include luxury housing, gardens, vineyards, and other adaptive reuse measures. This is all green and good, but I have to question the safety and cost of reusing these big box stores. Like fast food franchises, big box stores are not built to last. They are not constructed with any concept of their permanence, instead they are meant to go up quick and cheap and come down the same way when the new mega-ultra-super mart opens around the corner. The advantage of reusing old warehouses and factories is that theses large masonry structures were built to last and much of these structure can be re-purposed for less a strenuous program. This advantage would not be present in the Circuit Cities which will soon find themselves lacking a purpose.

There was one proposal that stood out to me, instead of re-imagining the big box store, it adapted the parking lot to a more urban context. The design called for two “linear buildings” surround a “parking module.” This strategy is closely related to one of the common forms for multifamily construction - the Texas Donut. In this strategy the parking garage is surrounded by the program, hiding it from view and creating a “safe” place for parking. This is a strategy that has become quite common in urban fringe development and could be beneficial in creating density within the big box context. The other reason this strategy caught my eye is that in my Thesis project for architecture school, I repurposed the parking lot of a Wal-Mart in New Orleans to create a public plaza and a municipal library. Part of the goal of my project was to acknowledge the big box stores as the modern equivalent of the urban market and to reintegrate them into the civic context.

Tweet This

This past Sunday, the Washington Post ran an article about an exhibit of Russian porcelain figurines. From the author’s description I can imagine that when approached with the right mindset, this would be a very interesting exhibit, especially if there was a historiographical entry for each piece explaining the popular and political culture from its time period.

The issue I am righting about this article is not because of the exhibit, but rather the assertion the author makes in the first paragraph; that while Russians may have excelled at the audible arts, they have never been any good at the visual arts. His assertion is that at best they were aping french and at worst they were downright rustic. This thesis is fundamentally flawed.

Pre-modern Russian visual arts were tightly controlled by the Orthodox church and focused on the creation of Iconography. These religious symbols show a mastery of coded expression, much like catholic religious art from the same period. While during the early - mid 19th century it may be true that Russian art followed the french romantic schools, in the late 19th and 20th century everything changed. Russian artists started exploring non-representational art and geometric and cubist art in ways that Western Europeans did not reach for decades. The cylindrical forms of Kasimir Malevich’s Taking in the Harvest evoke early computer art and three dimensional renderings. Natalia Goncharova moved easily from naive through cubism to futurist styles, while the pure forms of Lissitsky’s work from the 1920’s could be confused for 1950’s American artwork and his faux architecture can be confused for the post-industrial towers. The middle work of Kandinsky is often praised for its dichotomy of color and forms with the stark realities they are portraying, while his latter work predates Jackson Pollack by decades but could easily be mistaken for one of his splatter pieces. And this is just three of the avant-garde artists that arose in Russia between 1860 and the rise of the Soviet Union.

While it may be true that Russia does not have the centuries long art culture that France and Italy have, it cannot be overlooked that they were the shinning star of the Modern art world before Communism squelched individual expression. To deny them this period of cultural exploration would be unjust.

Tweet This

The New York Times has a brief article about a church that could not afford to expand on their historic structure, and so instead worked a deal with a developer to get space under a new highrise. In addition, neighborhood improvements were also carried out. The article poses the most poignant question that preservationists must face: is the historic architectural fabric more important than the quality of life of those who inhabit the spaces?

This question is really the crux of modern preservation. With modern laws and sensibilities homes and structures relating to famous people will be saved and preserved, it is the fabric and architectural experiments of the nameless faceless crowd that really make up our architecturally history and too often they are pushed aside for progress. In the case of this article it IS sad to see such an interesting structure fade into the past, but then again is it worse to see a community die around a building like this? The issue here comes down to a matter of means, if it was possible the church should have found a developed willing to build a building that would create architectural interest and install a plaque/display about the old building. That way, even though some of the history would be lost, it would not be forgotten, and the new building would have the potential of filling the same architectural niche that the old one did.

Tweet This