Architecture School – Preliminary Design Review

While reading other responses to Architecture School, i stumbled upon the conversation at Veritas et Venustas and felt compelled to add my 28 cents. I have reprinted my response below.

As a Tulane School of Architecture alumnus (’05) I feel a need to chime in with a few points.

1) There was, and I assume still is, an underlying conflict in the school and architecture as a whole. There are those modernist professors who put an emphasis on partis and design over neighborhood scale and character and they are continually in conflict with the preservationists/critical regionalists who emphasis context and character over grand design strategy. This studio would have been better suited being under the purview of a non-modernist professor, whose emphasis would have been on neighborhood development instead of personal architectural statements.

2) The problem with the existing houses and the neighborhood’s reaction is multifaceted. There is a severe air of distrust in New Orleans between the poor black neighborhoods and the rich (mostly) white gentry for very good reasons. The horrendous housing projects that were built during urban renewal were dehumanizing spaces (many not much better than stacked slave cabins), the construction of which allowed for the forced removal of people and buildings to build I-95, the Superdome, City Hall, and other municipal projects. In addition to this, for many of the neighborhood’s residents these new houses are parallel to the original critical failure of Stravinsky’s “Rite of Spring.” This is the first time they are seeing new housing forms and they have no language or filter through which to interpreting them, so they default to ugly. But does this make their reaction wrong? Not really. They are partially right, these houses are 21st century islands amongst a sea of 20th century houses (most of the houses shown were craftsman shotguns with some Victorian shotguns), and in a sense do not belong. Maybe if they were renovating the 9th Ward or New Orleans East and starting fresh these would make sense, but as urban infill they are failures.
Now, that may be a bit harsh. The policeman’s house does borrow from a traditional New Orleanian form, the shuttered louvered window. The opening in the front responds to the louvered shutters, but instead of being a method of screening and protection, this window is an actual door. This kind of gesture works; it is a means of natural ventilation and it also helps bring a front porch to the project which engages the neighborhood and may help encourage more safety and security.

3) The student proposals do not show an understanding of New Orleans’s traditional housing forms. Yes they are all long and narrow, but this is site generated, not design. None of the designs shown in the first episode take into account that most 2 story houses in this part of the city are Camel Back shotguns (one story dwellings with a “hump” in the rear). Instead they are all fully massed 2 story buildings, and one student was pushing for a three story house. Now that may work on St. Charles, Magazine street, or other dense areas uptown, but in this neighborhood that would be gigantic.
I blame the school for this; very few studios focus on housing, my entire portfolio, save my preservation classes, focused on public use buildings. Even though they have lived in the city for at least 3-4 years by the time they are in this platform, most of these students have has less exposure to the city’s architectural character than a typical tourist. The usual source of inspiration for most architecture students are the glossy magazines, and rarely do these focus on any traditional built form, be it New Orleans or Baltimore.

So in summary, yes there is an issue here, but it is greater than students producing substandard work. The emphasis should be on providing housing that will fit the needs of the neighborhood and help to strengthen the existing identity of this place, instead of being about providing housing in a grand gesture of contemporary thought.

Private Islands

The New York Times has a write up about this house which is built on an Island in Naraganset Bay. The views from the house are amazing, water views from every window, this is owing to its placement – perched all alone on a tiny rock of an island. Apparently it was a wreck when it was bought by a pair of Boston architects in 1961, one of whom was a distant relative of the original builder. For the past 4 decades they have restored and renovated the house and it is still a work in progress.

[Who Lives There – Clingstone – The Old House and the Sea – NYTimes.com]

NOMO

I just found a great blog focusing on New Orleans mid century modernism. Check it out!

Regional Modernism :: The New Orleans Archives

Article: Urban Renewal or Malpractice?

Workers are tearing off the old skin to make this Katherine Hepburn into Kathrine Zeta Jones.

[Image via curbed.com]

Curbed has an article about an early 20th century façade being torn down in Manhattan to put up a glass box (apparently, this project has been in the works for some time, but is just starting construction, see this other article for before and after pictures of the overall building). The preservationist in me cries out in disgust.

This building is a great example of early 20th century architecture. The chicago style windows fitted between corinthian columns and thinner windows above that emphasis the vertical nature of this early 20th Century skyscraper scream pre-Modern to me. In an other time, the loss of a fabric building like this wouldn’t even be a story, but in the age of historic preservation and with New York City rekindling its romance with glass and steel it begs me ask the question: Do famous buildings, like famous people, deserve celebrity treatment, or is the fabric of a city an integral part of its cultural landscape worth preserving just as much as its standouts? In cities with historic districts the answer has been a resounding yes, but this historic treatment does not always extend to this past century. Some architects/preservationists who would chain themselves to a building by Burnham and Root were the ones calling the loudest for the destruction of the Rivergate in New Orleans. Again this leaves me to wonder, should history be forcibly frozen in the streets of our cities and towns, or should innovation and advancement be allowed free reign and history left to a museum and historical parks? I don’t have the answer, but I know that there is a livable middle between those extremes.

As for 3 Columbus Circle, I wish the architect and developer had looked at the Hearst Tower before they decided that total skin replacement was the way to go.

Article: New New Orleans East

Dong Phuong Bakery in New Orleans

[Dong Phuong Bakery Originally uploaded to Flickr by Ray in New Orleans]

In my fourth year of Tulane I discovered one of the little known great secrets of New Orleans, the vietnamese market in New Orleans East and Dong Phuong Bakery on Chef Menteur Blvd. That first trip, we left the Willow Street Leadership village at 6am; when we got to the market it was just barely light. In that gray dusk, I felt transported unto another place, this was not the New Orleans I knew, nor was it even a part of the US as far as I knew. The sounds and smells were all so different, so alien.

It was a courtyard of a strip mall but it could have been a rural village anywhere, the market is such a universal thing. I bought bunches of fresh cilantro from old withered women who i couldn’t communicate with and stood in line for a fresh Vietnamese po-boy (Bahn Mi), which is by far the best type. By 8 the sun was up and the market was clearing out; we headed over to the bakery where I had my first cha siu bau or siopao and other pastries filled with glutineous meat patties.

I spent the rest of my next two years in the city trying to make it to the market once a month. Usually I got there just as the market was closing. Once I arrived very late, around noon: the strip mall had a small grocer who remained open after the market. The woman there told me in broken english:

You too late, you need get here much early. Some people, they get here for four!

After that, the market became known colloquially as the “for four” market.

After Katrina, I learned of the devastation in New Orleans East and grieved for the loss of the vietnamese community and the market. I feared that this vibrant special part of the city and its culture was lost forever. Now, I have hope that it will return and be brighter than ever, thanks to this article by Pruned, though I fear its authenticity as an organic market will be lost. It will be cleaner and more structured, more “american.” I worry that it will become like the French Market, a simulacra of a market, sanitized and regularized, populated more for the good of tourists and the restaurant industry than to the community that started it. I have to wonder, is it better that something be lost while maintaing authenticity or recreated as a sculpted and crafted creation meant to convey the idea but not the experience?

[2017 UPDATE] Apparently, 12 years after Katrina, the vietnamese farmers market is still going strong. This article from May 2016, discusses the market in greater detail. It seems that while the character of the market has remained the special experience that I remember so fondly, there have been some changes. A local food co-op is working with the community to help with infrastructure and sales. Ideally, this might be the best outcome. The market remains authentic to those who created, sell and shop at it, but is benefitting from the redevelopment of the city without losing its identity.

Article: Saving Venice

World Architecture News has an interesting article about the plan to save Venice from rising sea levels by raising the city above sea-level. At first mention this seems like a crazy idea. It doesn’t seem logical to raise a building and then add below it, a little force called gravity seems to argue against this; it would seem that it would be easier to building up and out instead.

In reality, this is not the case, raising a building is actually a preferred method of renovation for a number of reasons. First, shoring (the process of supporting a building for raising) allows for a new stronger and more stable foundation to be created. Second, raising a building from below allows for the opportunity to build the walls and integrate modern electrical and HVAC systems into the new interstitial spaces. Third, raising a building allows for a more Historic Preservation friendly adaption; an addition below can be built to so that the design of original building above is minimally affected. This method of house renovation has been continually used in New Orleans for over a hundred years, if not more. In fact, this can be used not just to raise a building, but it can also be used to move a building to a new location.