- Key Buildings from Prehistory to the Present: Plans, Sections and Elevations by Andrew Ballantyne
- A Guide to Archigram 1961-74 by Dennis Crompton
- Evidence: The Work of Robert A. M. Stern Architects by Robert A.M. Stern
- Le Corbusier Redrawn: the Houses by Steven Park
- Sourcebook of Scandinavian Furniture: Designs for the Twenty-First Century by Judith Gura
- West Coast Modern by Zahid Sardar with photographs by Matthew Millman
- Qualities of Duration: The Architecture of Phillip Smith and Douglas Thompson by Alastair Gordon
- Construction and Design Manual: Townhouses by Hans Stimmann
- Dutch Architecture in 250 Highlights edited by Netherlands Architecture Institute
- From the Ground Up: Innovative Green Homes edited by Peggy Tully
- Understanding Architecture by Juhani Pallasmaa and Robert McCarter
- Cycle Space: Architectural and Urban Design in the Age of the Bicycle by Steven Fleming
- Best Highrises 2012/13: The International Highrise Award 2012 edited by Michaela Busenkell and Peter Cachola Schmal
- Detail in Contemporary Concrete Architecture by David Phillips and Megumi Yamashita
- Modern Views, The Farnsworth House and the Philip Johnson Glass House
- Japan Architectural Guide by Botond Bognar
- Taiwan Architectural Guide by Ulf Meyer
- Everything All at Once: The Software, Videos, and Architecture of MOS by Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample
- Architecture: The People, Places, and Ideas Driving Contemporary Design, Design Bureau Special Edition
- Lewis.Tsurumaki.Lewis: Intensities by Paul Lewis, Mark Tsurumaki, David J. Lewis
- BIM in Small-Scale Sustainable Design by François Lévy
- Post-Ductility: Metals in Architecture and Engineering edited by Michael Bell, Craig Buckley
- New York Neon by Thomas E. Rinaldi
- New York Nights by James T. and Karla L. Murray
- Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References edited by Robert McCarter
- Beyond Zuccotti Park: Freedom of Assembly and the Occupation of Public Space edited by Ron Shiffman, Rick Bell, Lance Jay Brown, and Lynne Elizabeth, with Anastassia Fisyak, and Anusha Venkataraman
- a+t 39-40: Reclaim Remediate Reuse Recycle edited by Aurora Fernandez Per and Javier Mozas
- Architecture Concepts: Red Is Not a Color by Bernard Tschumi
Showing posts with label 28 in 28. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 28 in 28. Show all posts
Friday, March 1, 2013
28 in 28, Recap
February was Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. Below is a recap of the "28 in 28" series, which featured a different book every day of the month.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
28 in 28 #28: Architecture Concepts: Red Is Not a Color
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Architecture Concepts: Red Is Not a Color by Bernard Tschumi
Rizzoli, 2012
Hardcover, 776 pages
On page 741 of this hefty 7-pound tome spanning five decades of Bernard Tschumi's architecture and writing comes a new essay, "Architecture Concepts." In it the architect writes, "Concepts are what allow us to apprehend reality," and, "Inventing a new concept always starts by determining the right architectural question." Those familiar with Tschumi's theoretical work will not be surprised by his starting point; a 1990 book with some of his writings is even called Questions of Space (Architectural Association). But readers who have journeyed through the first 740 pages of the book will have grasped it as well, given that Tschumi begins each project's presentation with one or more questions—Le Fresnoy, for example: "Can one achieve architecture without resorting to design? What if, instead of designing a new building, you keep one slated for demolition? Hod do you insert an original program inside the old and new structures simultaneously? How do you reconcile coherence with multiplicity?"
The word "you" stands out in these questions. As I wrote about it in my Notable Books of 2012 list at Designers & Books, "Curiously [Tschumi] writes in the second person, a tactic that is intended, among other things, to 'draw the reader in,' and which ultimately is successful due to the text’s conversational tone and its thoughtful integration with numerous illustrations." This happens throughout the book but most notably in the "photoessays" that preface the five parts: A-Space Event Program; B-Program: Juxtaposition/Superimposition; C-Vectors & Envelopes; D-Concept/Context/Content; E-Concept-Form. The illustrations in these sections fall well outside of Tschumi's architecture, such as a photo of a gymnasium being used for voting in Part B, where Le Fresnoy is located. This photo reveals how the illustrations are part inspiration, part polemic, and they strengthen his arguments; the gymnasium, for example, makes it clear that programmatic juxtapositions are becoming the norm, not the exception.
The book's five parts are thematic but they are also chronological (with a few exceptions), illustrating shifts in concerns over the years, if gradual rather than dramatic ones. And this does not mean, for example, that "space event program" has been set aside in the current emphasis on "concept-form." Rather, the conceptual approaches have expanded as commissions have done the same. But with more and more projects since his breakthrough 1982 competition win for Parc de la Villette, there is a sharp decrease in the essays from Part A and Part B to the rest of the book. This is no surprise, as Tschumi, like other academic-architects, wrote a lot in the 1970s and early 1980s when work was slim. That theorizing laid a groundwork for conceptualizing about projects that would later make the move successfully from idea to reality. This large book encapsulates the evolution of Tschumi's five-decade-long (and counting) career, making his thinking and architecture more accessible and understandable to a larger audience.
US:
CA: 
UK: 
Architecture Concepts: Red Is Not a Color by Bernard Tschumi
Rizzoli, 2012
Hardcover, 776 pages
On page 741 of this hefty 7-pound tome spanning five decades of Bernard Tschumi's architecture and writing comes a new essay, "Architecture Concepts." In it the architect writes, "Concepts are what allow us to apprehend reality," and, "Inventing a new concept always starts by determining the right architectural question." Those familiar with Tschumi's theoretical work will not be surprised by his starting point; a 1990 book with some of his writings is even called Questions of Space (Architectural Association). But readers who have journeyed through the first 740 pages of the book will have grasped it as well, given that Tschumi begins each project's presentation with one or more questions—Le Fresnoy, for example: "Can one achieve architecture without resorting to design? What if, instead of designing a new building, you keep one slated for demolition? Hod do you insert an original program inside the old and new structures simultaneously? How do you reconcile coherence with multiplicity?"
The word "you" stands out in these questions. As I wrote about it in my Notable Books of 2012 list at Designers & Books, "Curiously [Tschumi] writes in the second person, a tactic that is intended, among other things, to 'draw the reader in,' and which ultimately is successful due to the text’s conversational tone and its thoughtful integration with numerous illustrations." This happens throughout the book but most notably in the "photoessays" that preface the five parts: A-Space Event Program; B-Program: Juxtaposition/Superimposition; C-Vectors & Envelopes; D-Concept/Context/Content; E-Concept-Form. The illustrations in these sections fall well outside of Tschumi's architecture, such as a photo of a gymnasium being used for voting in Part B, where Le Fresnoy is located. This photo reveals how the illustrations are part inspiration, part polemic, and they strengthen his arguments; the gymnasium, for example, makes it clear that programmatic juxtapositions are becoming the norm, not the exception.
The book's five parts are thematic but they are also chronological (with a few exceptions), illustrating shifts in concerns over the years, if gradual rather than dramatic ones. And this does not mean, for example, that "space event program" has been set aside in the current emphasis on "concept-form." Rather, the conceptual approaches have expanded as commissions have done the same. But with more and more projects since his breakthrough 1982 competition win for Parc de la Villette, there is a sharp decrease in the essays from Part A and Part B to the rest of the book. This is no surprise, as Tschumi, like other academic-architects, wrote a lot in the 1970s and early 1980s when work was slim. That theorizing laid a groundwork for conceptualizing about projects that would later make the move successfully from idea to reality. This large book encapsulates the evolution of Tschumi's five-decade-long (and counting) career, making his thinking and architecture more accessible and understandable to a larger audience.
US:
CA: UK:
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
28 in 28 #27: a+t 39-40
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
a+t 39-40: Reclaim Remediate Reuse Recycle edited by Aurora Fernandez Per and Javier Mozas
a+t, 2012
Paperback, 312 pages
One of the most distinctive things about a+t magazine is the way it presents recent architecture in themed series. Most recent was the Strategy series; before it Hybrids, Civilities, and so forth. These topics (focusing on landscapes, large buildings, and public buildings, respectively) respond to trends in the world of architecture while also taking critical positions toward them. Choosing to look at buildings that hybridize housing, offices, recreation, and other uses, for example, is a way to present projects like Steven Holl's Sliced Porosity Block, but the act also takes a position on how the city should evolve—taking into account a mix of uses, demographics, and other features that respond to the growing diversity of urban and suburban areas around the world.
The publisher's newest series is Reclaim, which starts with a double issue subtitled "Remediate, Reuse, Recycle." The editors promote the series in an "environmental sense to reclaim the territory, the objects, the infrastructures and the materials [and] a call to reclaim dignity and citizen rights. It is a wake-up call to morally reclaim society using the Re- processes as atonement." In his introduction, Javier Mozas describes how the three subsets of Reclaim (remediate, reuse, recycle) into which the 82 projects are situated contain all of the other re-processes—rebuild, remake, reinvent, restore, etc. Of course, to reclaim, remediate, reuse, and recycle is to maintain and transform an existing building or landscape, therefore using less energy for demolition and construction of an alternatively new entity. In this sense Reclaim is an extension of Strategy—but one that works on smaller scales (Strategy dealt with landscape urbanism and other means of designing landscapes in cities)—and an increasing focus on sustainability as a path for continuity of the species.
The order of the double issue's chapters—Remediate, Reuse, Recycle—means that the projects move from the large to the small, from the landscape to the building to the material. Therefore the chapters are not about figuring out what project goes where (a common tactic in many collections of contemporary architecture) or about typology (landscapes, for example, can also be found in the Recycle chapter), but about what it means to take part in the "re-" strategies.
Like other a+t titles, the design, layout, and quality of presentation is exceptional, though with the new series a new design is in place. Nevertheless the editors' penchant for organizing and cross-referencing is still present. In particular, each project is tagged with page numbers to two chapters at the end the book; one describes the "agents" involved and how they worked together in either top-down or bottom-up scenarios, and the other shows their before-and-after conditions. These concluding chapters ground the 82 projects in action and time, aiding in the discovery of what lessons can be learned beyond the pretty pictures and drawings.
a+t 39-40: Reclaim Remediate Reuse Recycle edited by Aurora Fernandez Per and Javier Mozas
a+t, 2012
Paperback, 312 pages
One of the most distinctive things about a+t magazine is the way it presents recent architecture in themed series. Most recent was the Strategy series; before it Hybrids, Civilities, and so forth. These topics (focusing on landscapes, large buildings, and public buildings, respectively) respond to trends in the world of architecture while also taking critical positions toward them. Choosing to look at buildings that hybridize housing, offices, recreation, and other uses, for example, is a way to present projects like Steven Holl's Sliced Porosity Block, but the act also takes a position on how the city should evolve—taking into account a mix of uses, demographics, and other features that respond to the growing diversity of urban and suburban areas around the world.
The publisher's newest series is Reclaim, which starts with a double issue subtitled "Remediate, Reuse, Recycle." The editors promote the series in an "environmental sense to reclaim the territory, the objects, the infrastructures and the materials [and] a call to reclaim dignity and citizen rights. It is a wake-up call to morally reclaim society using the Re- processes as atonement." In his introduction, Javier Mozas describes how the three subsets of Reclaim (remediate, reuse, recycle) into which the 82 projects are situated contain all of the other re-processes—rebuild, remake, reinvent, restore, etc. Of course, to reclaim, remediate, reuse, and recycle is to maintain and transform an existing building or landscape, therefore using less energy for demolition and construction of an alternatively new entity. In this sense Reclaim is an extension of Strategy—but one that works on smaller scales (Strategy dealt with landscape urbanism and other means of designing landscapes in cities)—and an increasing focus on sustainability as a path for continuity of the species.
The order of the double issue's chapters—Remediate, Reuse, Recycle—means that the projects move from the large to the small, from the landscape to the building to the material. Therefore the chapters are not about figuring out what project goes where (a common tactic in many collections of contemporary architecture) or about typology (landscapes, for example, can also be found in the Recycle chapter), but about what it means to take part in the "re-" strategies.
Like other a+t titles, the design, layout, and quality of presentation is exceptional, though with the new series a new design is in place. Nevertheless the editors' penchant for organizing and cross-referencing is still present. In particular, each project is tagged with page numbers to two chapters at the end the book; one describes the "agents" involved and how they worked together in either top-down or bottom-up scenarios, and the other shows their before-and-after conditions. These concluding chapters ground the 82 projects in action and time, aiding in the discovery of what lessons can be learned beyond the pretty pictures and drawings.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
28 in 28 #26: Beyond Zuccotti Park
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Beyond Zuccotti Park: Freedom of Assembly and the Occupation of Public Space edited by Ron Shiffman, Rick Bell, Lance Jay Brown, and Lynne Elizabeth, with Anastassia Fisyak, and Anusha Venkataraman
New Village Press, 2012
Paperback, 432 pages
These and many more questions are tackled by the numerous contributors to Beyond Zuccotti Park, a book and initiative that are a collaboration of the Center for Architecture, City College of New York School of Architecture, and Pratt Graduate Center for Planning and the Environment, with New Village Press and Architects/Designers/Planners for Social Responsibility. As the title indicates, the collection of essays is not about OWS; it's about the impact of OWS and the thinking about assembly and public space that it has sparked. Of course there are contributions that focus on those couple months in 2011, such as Alexander Cooper's (the designer of Zuccotti Park) analysis of various Occupation sites relative to public transit and Rick Bell's 20 common points among the Occupy "mini-cities." Most of the essays addressing OWS are put into the first section—Occupy! The next four sections attempt to categorize the remainder—Emplacing Equity and Social Justice, Reimagining Public Space, Public Space Over Time, and Responsive Change (the last is split into Public Sector Agents of Change and Designers and Developers as Agents of Change).
If the book were limited to OWS and Zuccotti Park essays it would be much more honed but also a lot slimmer. As is, the topics are looser but the contributions greater and from a larger pool of voices, some of them quite well known. Their takes on public space and assembly could be read as recipes for making urban open spaces amenable for exercising democratic rights. It's certainly a goal that goes well beyond design; or more accurately, the context that design works within is much more charged and contested than in other realms of building and landscape. Consensus won't be found in the varied collection, but like OWS itself, there is a shared dissatisfaction with things, in this case how the public fits into public space.
US: CA: UK:
Beyond Zuccotti Park: Freedom of Assembly and the Occupation of Public Space edited by Ron Shiffman, Rick Bell, Lance Jay Brown, and Lynne Elizabeth, with Anastassia Fisyak, and Anusha Venkataraman
New Village Press, 2012
Paperback, 432 pages
You can't evict an idea whose time has come.The above words were written when New York City police were evicting Liberty Square (aka Zuccotti Park) and the Occupy Wall Street encampment in November 2011. The statement attempts to maintain the momentum that OWS had gained since taking over Zuccotti Park in Lower Manhattan on September 17 of the same year. But it also implies that the idea is more important than the physical occupation of (semi-)public space, and therefore the latter is not as important or not integral to the movement. Given that OWS is nowhere to be found in the news 15 months after the eviction, this would seem to indicate that physical presence in public space is really important after all. But even if OWS lies in wait, did those two short months have a lasting impact on how public spaces are seen and used? And what does the movement point to in the design and evolution of the city, particularly in regard to open and public spaces?
These and many more questions are tackled by the numerous contributors to Beyond Zuccotti Park, a book and initiative that are a collaboration of the Center for Architecture, City College of New York School of Architecture, and Pratt Graduate Center for Planning and the Environment, with New Village Press and Architects/Designers/Planners for Social Responsibility. As the title indicates, the collection of essays is not about OWS; it's about the impact of OWS and the thinking about assembly and public space that it has sparked. Of course there are contributions that focus on those couple months in 2011, such as Alexander Cooper's (the designer of Zuccotti Park) analysis of various Occupation sites relative to public transit and Rick Bell's 20 common points among the Occupy "mini-cities." Most of the essays addressing OWS are put into the first section—Occupy! The next four sections attempt to categorize the remainder—Emplacing Equity and Social Justice, Reimagining Public Space, Public Space Over Time, and Responsive Change (the last is split into Public Sector Agents of Change and Designers and Developers as Agents of Change).
If the book were limited to OWS and Zuccotti Park essays it would be much more honed but also a lot slimmer. As is, the topics are looser but the contributions greater and from a larger pool of voices, some of them quite well known. Their takes on public space and assembly could be read as recipes for making urban open spaces amenable for exercising democratic rights. It's certainly a goal that goes well beyond design; or more accurately, the context that design works within is much more charged and contested than in other realms of building and landscape. Consensus won't be found in the varied collection, but like OWS itself, there is a shared dissatisfaction with things, in this case how the public fits into public space.
US:
CA: UK:
Monday, February 25, 2013
28 in 28 #25: Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References edited by Robert McCarter
Birkhäuser, 2012
Paperback, 566 pages
See A Weekly Dose of Architecture for my review of Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References.
Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References edited by Robert McCarter
Birkhäuser, 2012
Paperback, 566 pages
See A Weekly Dose of Architecture for my review of Wiel Arets: Autobiographical References.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
28 in 28 #23+24: Two NYC Books
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
New York Neon by Thomas E. Rinaldi
W. W. Norton, 2012
Paperback, 192 pages
New York Nights by James T. and Karla L. Murray
Gingko Press, 2012
Hardcover, 276 pages
November saw the release of two books documenting New York City in the hours between sunset and sunrise, when the glow of artificial lighting adds color to the city's sidewalks. While each book sets its sight on old establishments (you won't find Times Square in these titles), and the names New York Neon and New York Nights even confuse matters, the differences between the two are nevertheless great, as will be seen. Nevertheless, beyond the obvious overlap in subject matter and format (photography books), the books share an appreciation of New York City's ever-changing streetscapes as evidenced in early attempts at getting attention in the 24-hour metropolis. In this sense the books are as much history as photography.
There is actually a smidgen of truth to the old statement about judging a book by its cover. That's not wise if faced with an either/or decision of which one of these books to buy, but an important difference can be gleaned from a quick glance at these covers: With its black background and floating words, New York Neon is about the signs, while the frontal shot on New York Nights signals it's about the shops and restaurants. Rinaldi describes how he initially photographed the signs a couple f-stops lower than what his light meter told him, but over time he varied the technique to show more urban and architectural context; still, detailed shots of signs on dark backgrounds are the majority. On the other hand, the photos in New York Nights are mainly straightforward views of a storefronts, like a nighttime version of the Murray's widely celebrated Store Front. Their book is about the sensations and experience of the establishments on the sidewalk, as they invite us inside through their lighting and interior glow.
Another major difference between the two is size. New York Neon is a fairly compact book that is easy to hold, all the better to hone in on the details of the signage. Photos are one or two to a page, with the occasional two-page, full-bleed spread. Captions sit in the white space on the page but the overall effect is of dark pages with splashes of color. Each sign is distinct but repetition can be found in orientation (vertical and horizontal signs predominate), color (lots of red and orange), and type of establishment (one page even features six liquor stores with very similar signs). On the other end of the spectrum is New York Nights, which spans over two feet when opened on a table. Most of the photographs are one to a page, documentary-like, with text on the opposite page. Each photo is therefore a decent size, enough to grasp the details captured in the duo's long-exposures.
One more difference is how the books tell their stories beyond the photographs. With his sights squarely on neon, Rinaldi delves into a lengthy history of illumination in the city, spending a good chunk on the fascinating "anatomy of the industry." Many of the photos even credit the sign makers, a testament to the skill required to produce neon signs. The Murrays focus on the establishments through interviews with proprietors. They are not as interested in the details of lighting that give each storefront its presence at night, outside of what comes across in the photographs.
Even with the above differences, each book is accurate in its depiction of the city at night. Neon is a collection of quick glances where the glow of the neon is burned into our memory. Nights feels like sideways glances as one walks home from a bar. Neither book has many people, so the reader can be alone with the images and make them as much a part of his or her memory as they are for the photographers who snapped them.
New York Neon:
US: CA: UK:
New York Nights:
US: CA: UK:
New York Neon by Thomas E. Rinaldi
W. W. Norton, 2012
Paperback, 192 pages
New York Nights by James T. and Karla L. Murray
Gingko Press, 2012
Hardcover, 276 pages
November saw the release of two books documenting New York City in the hours between sunset and sunrise, when the glow of artificial lighting adds color to the city's sidewalks. While each book sets its sight on old establishments (you won't find Times Square in these titles), and the names New York Neon and New York Nights even confuse matters, the differences between the two are nevertheless great, as will be seen. Nevertheless, beyond the obvious overlap in subject matter and format (photography books), the books share an appreciation of New York City's ever-changing streetscapes as evidenced in early attempts at getting attention in the 24-hour metropolis. In this sense the books are as much history as photography.
There is actually a smidgen of truth to the old statement about judging a book by its cover. That's not wise if faced with an either/or decision of which one of these books to buy, but an important difference can be gleaned from a quick glance at these covers: With its black background and floating words, New York Neon is about the signs, while the frontal shot on New York Nights signals it's about the shops and restaurants. Rinaldi describes how he initially photographed the signs a couple f-stops lower than what his light meter told him, but over time he varied the technique to show more urban and architectural context; still, detailed shots of signs on dark backgrounds are the majority. On the other hand, the photos in New York Nights are mainly straightforward views of a storefronts, like a nighttime version of the Murray's widely celebrated Store Front. Their book is about the sensations and experience of the establishments on the sidewalk, as they invite us inside through their lighting and interior glow.
Another major difference between the two is size. New York Neon is a fairly compact book that is easy to hold, all the better to hone in on the details of the signage. Photos are one or two to a page, with the occasional two-page, full-bleed spread. Captions sit in the white space on the page but the overall effect is of dark pages with splashes of color. Each sign is distinct but repetition can be found in orientation (vertical and horizontal signs predominate), color (lots of red and orange), and type of establishment (one page even features six liquor stores with very similar signs). On the other end of the spectrum is New York Nights, which spans over two feet when opened on a table. Most of the photographs are one to a page, documentary-like, with text on the opposite page. Each photo is therefore a decent size, enough to grasp the details captured in the duo's long-exposures.
One more difference is how the books tell their stories beyond the photographs. With his sights squarely on neon, Rinaldi delves into a lengthy history of illumination in the city, spending a good chunk on the fascinating "anatomy of the industry." Many of the photos even credit the sign makers, a testament to the skill required to produce neon signs. The Murrays focus on the establishments through interviews with proprietors. They are not as interested in the details of lighting that give each storefront its presence at night, outside of what comes across in the photographs.
Even with the above differences, each book is accurate in its depiction of the city at night. Neon is a collection of quick glances where the glow of the neon is burned into our memory. Nights feels like sideways glances as one walks home from a bar. Neither book has many people, so the reader can be alone with the images and make them as much a part of his or her memory as they are for the photographers who snapped them.
New York Neon:
US:
CA: UK: New York Nights:
US:
CA: UK:
Friday, February 22, 2013
28 in 28 #22: Post-Ductility
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Post-Ductility: Metals in Architecture and Engineering edited by Michael Bell, Craig Buckley
Princeton Architectural Press, 2012
Hardcover, 272 pages
One of Columbia University GSAPP's "flagship projects" is the Materials Project, which consists of conferences and subsequent publications on concrete, glass, metals, and plastics, with light supposedly forthcoming. When I reviewed Engineering Transparency, the book on the glass conference, I noted that "the symposium and book are equal parts architecture and engineering, theory and practice, eye candy and data." The same can be said for Post-Ductility, keeping with conference chair Michael Bell's organization of the conferences into a symbiotic mix of the theoretical and the technical. (This extends to the plastics conference, Permanent Change, as my notes from both days attest.)
The book is structured in five sections: History and Theory, Projects (five of them), Structural Engineering, Energy and Sustainability, and Experimental Fabrications. While one of the projects, Rafael Moneo's Northwest Corner Building at Columbia (gracing the cover), embodies metal's use both as structure and decoration, the book also delves into the hidden realm of metals—reinforcing, wiring, even ducts. These other areas are in the minority in the book, but they illustrate the post in post-ductility; "the elastic capacities of materials are inextricably lost as determining values," as Bell puts it in his introduction. In other words, a host of other considerations are explored besides, for example, how steel is shaped into complex structures: the production and reuse of metals, the developments of materials scientists, and the implications of metals' pervasiveness.
Even with this broad approach to metals, the chapter on structural engineering is a highlight, as are projects like the Northwest Corner Building that are complex structures requiring the use of steel. OMA's CCTV, the new San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, and a bunch of other bridges are part of what make up the structural engineering chapter; these give a strong indication of the link between structure and formal creativity. The energy and sustainability chapter is also a highlight. Perhaps this is because the technical/engineering aspect of these chapters is a nice foil to the history and theory elsewhere in the book. A solid and concerted balance between the technical and the theoretical grounds the various ideas in practice, where thinking about materials really comes into fruition.
US: CA: UK:
Post-Ductility: Metals in Architecture and Engineering edited by Michael Bell, Craig Buckley
Princeton Architectural Press, 2012
Hardcover, 272 pages
One of Columbia University GSAPP's "flagship projects" is the Materials Project, which consists of conferences and subsequent publications on concrete, glass, metals, and plastics, with light supposedly forthcoming. When I reviewed Engineering Transparency, the book on the glass conference, I noted that "the symposium and book are equal parts architecture and engineering, theory and practice, eye candy and data." The same can be said for Post-Ductility, keeping with conference chair Michael Bell's organization of the conferences into a symbiotic mix of the theoretical and the technical. (This extends to the plastics conference, Permanent Change, as my notes from both days attest.)
The book is structured in five sections: History and Theory, Projects (five of them), Structural Engineering, Energy and Sustainability, and Experimental Fabrications. While one of the projects, Rafael Moneo's Northwest Corner Building at Columbia (gracing the cover), embodies metal's use both as structure and decoration, the book also delves into the hidden realm of metals—reinforcing, wiring, even ducts. These other areas are in the minority in the book, but they illustrate the post in post-ductility; "the elastic capacities of materials are inextricably lost as determining values," as Bell puts it in his introduction. In other words, a host of other considerations are explored besides, for example, how steel is shaped into complex structures: the production and reuse of metals, the developments of materials scientists, and the implications of metals' pervasiveness.
Even with this broad approach to metals, the chapter on structural engineering is a highlight, as are projects like the Northwest Corner Building that are complex structures requiring the use of steel. OMA's CCTV, the new San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, and a bunch of other bridges are part of what make up the structural engineering chapter; these give a strong indication of the link between structure and formal creativity. The energy and sustainability chapter is also a highlight. Perhaps this is because the technical/engineering aspect of these chapters is a nice foil to the history and theory elsewhere in the book. A solid and concerted balance between the technical and the theoretical grounds the various ideas in practice, where thinking about materials really comes into fruition.
US:
CA: UK:
Thursday, February 21, 2013
28 in 28 #21: BIM in Small-Scale Sustainable Design
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
BIM in Small-Scale Sustainable Design by François Lévy
Wiley, 2011
Hardcover, 312 pages
At its core BIM (Building Information Modeling) is a pretty simple idea: A 3-dimensional virtual model is embodied with data that can be used to generate drawings, spreadsheets, and other relevant output. But the complexities are many, partially due to the fact that the shift from CAD to BIM is a much greater one than the shift from hand drafting to CAD. The earlier transition from paper to digital still involved the drawing of plans, sections, elevations, and so forth via lines, but BIM dispenses with drawing (for the most part, at least) in favor of the modeling of systems (walls, windows, doors, roofs, etc.). On top of that fact is learning BIM software, determining how to integrate BIM into an office's and project's workflow, and coordinating with consultants, among many other considerations.
When it comes to integrating BIM within a project's workflow, it is often used purely for construction documents, coming after schematic design and entering the picture sometime within design development, depending on the firm. François Lévy, an architect in Austin, Texas, believes that for small, skin-load dominated buildings (versus large, systems-heavy buildings) BIM is best introduced in the early phases of a project, where it can be used to aid with site analysis, massing, solar studies, passive heating/cooling, and hydrology, to name a few areas where the intelligent modeling can be queried for information. This is not to say that a highly detailed and "figured out" model needs to be generated in the conceptual or schematic design phase; BIM software enables models with respectively "lo-fi" information to be created and still carry intelligent data.
Lévy's argument unfolds over eleven chapters that address the uses of BIM mentioned above, as well the relationship between BIM and sustainable design, BIM software, and collaboration. Each chapter is accompanied by a brief case study that is helpful in grounding Lévy's ideas in specific practices, most of them external to his own. Falling somewhere between a technical textbook and a theoretical exposition, the book is helpful as a guide for architects interested in integrating BIM into their workflow. With an emphasis on small buildings (single-family houses, mainly), that pool is large, and the book makes a convincing argument for working BIM into the early stages of a design. That argument would be even stronger if the book were illustrated in color; as is, many of the renderings and model views lack contrast and differentiation between surfaces to make them fully legible. This is unfortunate but not a fatal flaw for a book that intelligently embraces a technology's impact on making buildings better and more responsible.
US: CA: UK:
BIM in Small-Scale Sustainable Design by François Lévy
Wiley, 2011
Hardcover, 312 pages
At its core BIM (Building Information Modeling) is a pretty simple idea: A 3-dimensional virtual model is embodied with data that can be used to generate drawings, spreadsheets, and other relevant output. But the complexities are many, partially due to the fact that the shift from CAD to BIM is a much greater one than the shift from hand drafting to CAD. The earlier transition from paper to digital still involved the drawing of plans, sections, elevations, and so forth via lines, but BIM dispenses with drawing (for the most part, at least) in favor of the modeling of systems (walls, windows, doors, roofs, etc.). On top of that fact is learning BIM software, determining how to integrate BIM into an office's and project's workflow, and coordinating with consultants, among many other considerations.
When it comes to integrating BIM within a project's workflow, it is often used purely for construction documents, coming after schematic design and entering the picture sometime within design development, depending on the firm. François Lévy, an architect in Austin, Texas, believes that for small, skin-load dominated buildings (versus large, systems-heavy buildings) BIM is best introduced in the early phases of a project, where it can be used to aid with site analysis, massing, solar studies, passive heating/cooling, and hydrology, to name a few areas where the intelligent modeling can be queried for information. This is not to say that a highly detailed and "figured out" model needs to be generated in the conceptual or schematic design phase; BIM software enables models with respectively "lo-fi" information to be created and still carry intelligent data.
Lévy's argument unfolds over eleven chapters that address the uses of BIM mentioned above, as well the relationship between BIM and sustainable design, BIM software, and collaboration. Each chapter is accompanied by a brief case study that is helpful in grounding Lévy's ideas in specific practices, most of them external to his own. Falling somewhere between a technical textbook and a theoretical exposition, the book is helpful as a guide for architects interested in integrating BIM into their workflow. With an emphasis on small buildings (single-family houses, mainly), that pool is large, and the book makes a convincing argument for working BIM into the early stages of a design. That argument would be even stronger if the book were illustrated in color; as is, many of the renderings and model views lack contrast and differentiation between surfaces to make them fully legible. This is unfortunate but not a fatal flaw for a book that intelligently embraces a technology's impact on making buildings better and more responsible.
US:
CA: UK:
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
28 in 28 #20: Intensities
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Lewis.Tsurumaki.Lewis: Intensities by Paul Lewis, Mark Tsurumaki, David J. Lewis
Princeton Architectural Press, 2013
Paperback, 192 pages
LTL Architects is very particular about the names of their monographs. Their first—the 21st in the Pamphlet Architecture series—is called Situation Normal...; it is the beginning of the acronym SNAFU (the rest is All F@*!ed Up), which describes a "normal" state where things are a little bit off (their project for a putting green/smoker's lounge on the window-washing armature of the Seagram Building is a good case in point). Ten years later they followed up with Opportunistic Architecture, what they describe as "a design philosophy that transforms the typically restrictive conditions of architectural practice—small budgets, awkward spaces, strict zoning—into generators of architectural innovation." Just over four years later comes Intensities, what they describe in the introduction as "a focused form of architectural practice ... [they] engage the pragmatics of a given project, pursuing design invention through nonlinear yet logical sequence of speculations and probes." Further, "the work that materializes is then saturated, multilayered, or otherwise demonstrative of an intensification of architecture itself."
The compressed time frame of the newest monograph—half the time between the first two—indicates that LTL is producing and building more at a faster pace (will the next one be in two years?). Twenty projects are in the book, about half of them built. On the cover is the Arthouse at the Jones Center, a renovation of a (very) old building in Austin, Texas, for a contemporary arts space; the project also ends the book, perhaps as a way to bookend the contents. The cover's photo/drawing hybrid grounds the project in their early projects that are heavy on perspective drawings, something they have not abandoned, even as they have refined the method to incorporate computers. The project also documents LTL's design and fabrication of mobile lounge furniture, harking back to the small Lower East Side eateries that they used to install themselves. So as projects have expanded in scale and frequency, and moved beyond their Manhattan locale, many things have remained constant.
In addition to the Arthouse, the projects given the most pages are Water Proving Ground (their contribution to MoMA's 2010 Rising Currents show), the Sullivan Family Student Center at the University of Wyoming (the project is anchored by a double-height topographic mural of the state, echoed in their office design for The Open Planning Project, which features shelving in the shape of Manhattan), and the Claremont University Consortium Administrative Campus Center (another renovation, one that illustrates how their skill with small interiors has been successfully carried to larger projects). Yet even projects given only a couple pages are presented with the same attention to detail as these and others. Each project reveals a consistent approach that emphasizes quality of space and detail. The equally consistent presentation that mixes photos, drawings, and words makes the book extremely rich, indicative of their talents.
US: CA: UK:
Lewis.Tsurumaki.Lewis: Intensities by Paul Lewis, Mark Tsurumaki, David J. Lewis
Princeton Architectural Press, 2013
Paperback, 192 pages
LTL Architects is very particular about the names of their monographs. Their first—the 21st in the Pamphlet Architecture series—is called Situation Normal...; it is the beginning of the acronym SNAFU (the rest is All F@*!ed Up), which describes a "normal" state where things are a little bit off (their project for a putting green/smoker's lounge on the window-washing armature of the Seagram Building is a good case in point). Ten years later they followed up with Opportunistic Architecture, what they describe as "a design philosophy that transforms the typically restrictive conditions of architectural practice—small budgets, awkward spaces, strict zoning—into generators of architectural innovation." Just over four years later comes Intensities, what they describe in the introduction as "a focused form of architectural practice ... [they] engage the pragmatics of a given project, pursuing design invention through nonlinear yet logical sequence of speculations and probes." Further, "the work that materializes is then saturated, multilayered, or otherwise demonstrative of an intensification of architecture itself."
The compressed time frame of the newest monograph—half the time between the first two—indicates that LTL is producing and building more at a faster pace (will the next one be in two years?). Twenty projects are in the book, about half of them built. On the cover is the Arthouse at the Jones Center, a renovation of a (very) old building in Austin, Texas, for a contemporary arts space; the project also ends the book, perhaps as a way to bookend the contents. The cover's photo/drawing hybrid grounds the project in their early projects that are heavy on perspective drawings, something they have not abandoned, even as they have refined the method to incorporate computers. The project also documents LTL's design and fabrication of mobile lounge furniture, harking back to the small Lower East Side eateries that they used to install themselves. So as projects have expanded in scale and frequency, and moved beyond their Manhattan locale, many things have remained constant.
In addition to the Arthouse, the projects given the most pages are Water Proving Ground (their contribution to MoMA's 2010 Rising Currents show), the Sullivan Family Student Center at the University of Wyoming (the project is anchored by a double-height topographic mural of the state, echoed in their office design for The Open Planning Project, which features shelving in the shape of Manhattan), and the Claremont University Consortium Administrative Campus Center (another renovation, one that illustrates how their skill with small interiors has been successfully carried to larger projects). Yet even projects given only a couple pages are presented with the same attention to detail as these and others. Each project reveals a consistent approach that emphasizes quality of space and detail. The equally consistent presentation that mixes photos, drawings, and words makes the book extremely rich, indicative of their talents.
US:
CA: UK:
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
28 in 28 #19: Design Bureau Special Edition: Architecture
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Architecture: The People, Places, and Ideas Driving Contemporary Design, Design Bureau Special Edition
ALARM Press, 2012
Paperback, 448 pages
It was one year ago that I got my first look at Design Bureau, a magazine out of Chicago that presents various facets of design: architecture, interior design, product design, and some fashion. Back then I reviewed the "Renegade Architecture" issue, which has a good helping of architecture alongside the other realms of design. Architecture again rises to the fore in DB's first Special Edition on "the people, places, and ideas driving contemporary design." The sizable collection of 100 projects follows the magazine's recipe, for good and bad.
What I appreciate most about DB is the editors' knack for finding really good design that is not limited to what is brand new. They appear to realize that a magazine cannot break a story or start a meme like a blog or other website; instead they focus on presenting really good modern design really well. This is not to say that they are reaching back decades, but opening the window a bit beyond the last week, month, even year is liberating; it lets quality trump freshness. That curating quality extends to this special edition on architecture, but it's a more diverse collection than I'm used to with the magazines. A good deal of neo-traditional design is found in these pages, but modern design is still the majority.
The 100 projects are split into nine chapters: Modernized Minimalism; Big Design, Small Scale; Before/After; Waterfront Homes; Notes from the Bureau; Public Places; Suburbia Today; Hospitality Hotspots; Luxe Homes. My favorites are: Modernized Minimalism, a good selection of mainly houses that benefits from short interviews with architects about the projects' minimalist qualities; Before/After highlights the dramatic transformations that can occur when an old building is saved; Public Places has an interesting selection of parks, museums, and other publicly accessible buildings and spaces with thorough descriptions (the book's diversity is evident in the juxtaposition of the BSA Space followed by the Grand Ole Opry's flood rebuild).
Questionable are parts of the chapters Big Design, Small Scale (an unexceptional yogurt shop and store for running shoes), Notes from the Bureau (an interview with the designer of Papa John's stores?!), and Suburbia Today (does an unbuilt project for NoHo really tell us about the suburbs today?). These and other examples serve to illustrate DB's business model, in which participating companies (contractors, manufacturers, architects) supply advertising, something I had mentioned in my first review with some trepidation (are projects selected based on the willingness of players to advertise?). With this special edition it's odd to see so many ads (the Notes chapter has one page per spread with ads), but this means it exists somewhere between a magazine and a book. Those expecting a book may be disappointed, but those expecting an over-sized magazine will be pleasantly surprised at the large and diverse quality of architecture within.
Architecture: The People, Places, and Ideas Driving Contemporary Design, Design Bureau Special Edition
ALARM Press, 2012
Paperback, 448 pages
It was one year ago that I got my first look at Design Bureau, a magazine out of Chicago that presents various facets of design: architecture, interior design, product design, and some fashion. Back then I reviewed the "Renegade Architecture" issue, which has a good helping of architecture alongside the other realms of design. Architecture again rises to the fore in DB's first Special Edition on "the people, places, and ideas driving contemporary design." The sizable collection of 100 projects follows the magazine's recipe, for good and bad.
What I appreciate most about DB is the editors' knack for finding really good design that is not limited to what is brand new. They appear to realize that a magazine cannot break a story or start a meme like a blog or other website; instead they focus on presenting really good modern design really well. This is not to say that they are reaching back decades, but opening the window a bit beyond the last week, month, even year is liberating; it lets quality trump freshness. That curating quality extends to this special edition on architecture, but it's a more diverse collection than I'm used to with the magazines. A good deal of neo-traditional design is found in these pages, but modern design is still the majority.
The 100 projects are split into nine chapters: Modernized Minimalism; Big Design, Small Scale; Before/After; Waterfront Homes; Notes from the Bureau; Public Places; Suburbia Today; Hospitality Hotspots; Luxe Homes. My favorites are: Modernized Minimalism, a good selection of mainly houses that benefits from short interviews with architects about the projects' minimalist qualities; Before/After highlights the dramatic transformations that can occur when an old building is saved; Public Places has an interesting selection of parks, museums, and other publicly accessible buildings and spaces with thorough descriptions (the book's diversity is evident in the juxtaposition of the BSA Space followed by the Grand Ole Opry's flood rebuild).
Questionable are parts of the chapters Big Design, Small Scale (an unexceptional yogurt shop and store for running shoes), Notes from the Bureau (an interview with the designer of Papa John's stores?!), and Suburbia Today (does an unbuilt project for NoHo really tell us about the suburbs today?). These and other examples serve to illustrate DB's business model, in which participating companies (contractors, manufacturers, architects) supply advertising, something I had mentioned in my first review with some trepidation (are projects selected based on the willingness of players to advertise?). With this special edition it's odd to see so many ads (the Notes chapter has one page per spread with ads), but this means it exists somewhere between a magazine and a book. Those expecting a book may be disappointed, but those expecting an over-sized magazine will be pleasantly surprised at the large and diverse quality of architecture within.
Monday, February 18, 2013
28 in 28 #18: Everything All at Once
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Everything All at Once: The Software, Videos, and Architecture of MOS by Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample
Princeton Architectural Press, 2013
Paperback, 176 pages
A visit to the website of New York City's MOS reveals six projects tagged Software, six as Video, six as Buildings, six as Installations, and four as Pavilions. These categories start to get at the process and output of the duo of Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample; they also hint at why their first monograph is called Everything All at Once. The title's double entendre describes the book's presentation, which color codes the software, videos, and architecture of MOS but overlaps and merges them together. More importantly it refers to their working process, in which the three parts of the subtitle are treated to an equal extent, such that the front flap's statement that they "exchange plans or sections for software and videos" seems slightly off target; instead of serving the architecture, the software and videos can actually become the end result.
While MOS has realized buildings, and is doing more of them on an increasingly larger scale, the architecture they include in the book are temporary installations and pavilions. This adds an even stronger element of time to their constructions, furthering the overlap between the architecture and the software and videos. The short shelf life of projects like Afterparty at MoMA PS1 means that experience and events are that much more important. In turn the videos imagine happenings within their architecture, both before and after construction. Unfortunately the captions that accompany the video images are sometimes illegible, partly from the fluorescent pink used for the videos (software is blue and architecture is purple) but mainly because the white font is smaller than small.
While I'd question leaving out some of MOS's more well known projects (Puppet Theater, Foreclosed), the selection reinforces the linkage between the three realms and the duo's questioning of the norms of architectural production. They are definitely doing something that works, given how the appeal with academics, institutions, and (I'm guessing) a larger public that does not care about the intellectual nature or curatorial positions of their work. Their installations have an obvious appeal that is rooted equally in form and experience (talking form my own experience, Afterparty was especially rewarding). Therefore the influence of the software (enabling complex forms) and videos (a means of envisioning experience and event) is evident in their architecture, even as those pieces aren't grasped by everybody lucky enough to visit their installations and pavilions in the short times they exist.
US: CA: UK:
Everything All at Once: The Software, Videos, and Architecture of MOS by Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample
Princeton Architectural Press, 2013
Paperback, 176 pages
A visit to the website of New York City's MOS reveals six projects tagged Software, six as Video, six as Buildings, six as Installations, and four as Pavilions. These categories start to get at the process and output of the duo of Michael Meredith and Hilary Sample; they also hint at why their first monograph is called Everything All at Once. The title's double entendre describes the book's presentation, which color codes the software, videos, and architecture of MOS but overlaps and merges them together. More importantly it refers to their working process, in which the three parts of the subtitle are treated to an equal extent, such that the front flap's statement that they "exchange plans or sections for software and videos" seems slightly off target; instead of serving the architecture, the software and videos can actually become the end result.
While MOS has realized buildings, and is doing more of them on an increasingly larger scale, the architecture they include in the book are temporary installations and pavilions. This adds an even stronger element of time to their constructions, furthering the overlap between the architecture and the software and videos. The short shelf life of projects like Afterparty at MoMA PS1 means that experience and events are that much more important. In turn the videos imagine happenings within their architecture, both before and after construction. Unfortunately the captions that accompany the video images are sometimes illegible, partly from the fluorescent pink used for the videos (software is blue and architecture is purple) but mainly because the white font is smaller than small.
While I'd question leaving out some of MOS's more well known projects (Puppet Theater, Foreclosed), the selection reinforces the linkage between the three realms and the duo's questioning of the norms of architectural production. They are definitely doing something that works, given how the appeal with academics, institutions, and (I'm guessing) a larger public that does not care about the intellectual nature or curatorial positions of their work. Their installations have an obvious appeal that is rooted equally in form and experience (talking form my own experience, Afterparty was especially rewarding). Therefore the influence of the software (enabling complex forms) and videos (a means of envisioning experience and event) is evident in their architecture, even as those pieces aren't grasped by everybody lucky enough to visit their installations and pavilions in the short times they exist.
US:
CA: UK:
Saturday, February 16, 2013
28 in 28 #16+17: Two DOM Architectural Guides
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Japan Architectural Guide by Botond Bognar
DOM Publishers, 2013
Paperback, 552 pages
Taiwan Architectural Guide by Ulf Meyer
DOM Publishers, 2012
Paperback, 268 pages
In a recent review of a "construction and design manual" on townhouses, I mentioned that DOM Publishers has been releasing well made architectural guides since the Berlin-based imprint started business in 2005. Their geographical subjects are not always obvious, such as their two-volume guide to Pyongyang, North Korea. These two recent guides to Japan and Taiwan extend the publisher's interest in Asia. Japan is an obvious choice, given the high quality and popularity of architects in the country and the large number of cultural institutions that have built stunning buildings well outside of Tokyo. Taiwan is a more questionable choice, but as we'll see the guide is as much about the future of the country as is it about its past. Each guide documents contemporary buildings well, but they are not limited to 21st century buildings; they reach back as far as the early 20th century up to the present.
[Japan guide spread]
One of the best things about DOM's architectural guide to Japan is that Botond Bognar is the author. He is a preeminent scholar of Japanese architecture, having written other guides and numerous monographs and other books on Japanese architects. A lengthy essay on the "course of contemporary Japanese architecture" is a valuable introduction to a sweeping guide that covers the country from tip to tip, from Hokkaido to Okinawa. Over 700 buildings are included in his guide, though not all of them are illustrated, and those that aren't are given fairly short descriptions. The norm is like the spread above, with generous text and photographs; the former tend to be formal descriptions, though they are much deeper at times, and the latter are sometimes accompanied by drawings for greater understanding.
Also evident in the above spread are QVR codes that allow iPhone users to locate the buildings on Google Maps. In this sense the book bridges the print and digital realms, though I'm guessing that future guides will have increasingly greater content included in the scanned content, and likewise less content in print. Right now the codes exist to give readers a chance to get directions from one address to the location of the building, meaning that the maps in the book can be more general, orienting the buildings in the city but less concerned with their precisely detailed locations.
[Taiwan guide spread]
The same QVR codes are found in the earlier Taiwan guide by Ulf Meyer (the author of two other DOM architectural guides—Helsinki and Tokyo). With the same publisher it's no surprise that there is this sort of consistency, something that extends to the page layout, evidenced by comparing the above two spreads. As mentioned at the beginning, one of the main differences between the two guides is the way the Taiwan guide includes a lot of future projects. These include OMA's Taipei Performing Arts Centre, Reiser + Umemoto's Taipei Pop Music Centre, and Toyo Ito's Taichung Metropolitan Opera House, the most notable among many others. This is not to say that the buildings in Taipei and other cities in Taiwan are lacking notable buildings; the country has elevated the outside influence through the commission of well known architects, and these are the projects that will shape Taiwan's future and put it even more on the architectural map.
Japan:
US: CA: UK:
Taiwan:
US: CA: UK:
Japan Architectural Guide by Botond Bognar
DOM Publishers, 2013
Paperback, 552 pages
Taiwan Architectural Guide by Ulf Meyer
DOM Publishers, 2012
Paperback, 268 pages
In a recent review of a "construction and design manual" on townhouses, I mentioned that DOM Publishers has been releasing well made architectural guides since the Berlin-based imprint started business in 2005. Their geographical subjects are not always obvious, such as their two-volume guide to Pyongyang, North Korea. These two recent guides to Japan and Taiwan extend the publisher's interest in Asia. Japan is an obvious choice, given the high quality and popularity of architects in the country and the large number of cultural institutions that have built stunning buildings well outside of Tokyo. Taiwan is a more questionable choice, but as we'll see the guide is as much about the future of the country as is it about its past. Each guide documents contemporary buildings well, but they are not limited to 21st century buildings; they reach back as far as the early 20th century up to the present.
[Japan guide spread]
One of the best things about DOM's architectural guide to Japan is that Botond Bognar is the author. He is a preeminent scholar of Japanese architecture, having written other guides and numerous monographs and other books on Japanese architects. A lengthy essay on the "course of contemporary Japanese architecture" is a valuable introduction to a sweeping guide that covers the country from tip to tip, from Hokkaido to Okinawa. Over 700 buildings are included in his guide, though not all of them are illustrated, and those that aren't are given fairly short descriptions. The norm is like the spread above, with generous text and photographs; the former tend to be formal descriptions, though they are much deeper at times, and the latter are sometimes accompanied by drawings for greater understanding.
Also evident in the above spread are QVR codes that allow iPhone users to locate the buildings on Google Maps. In this sense the book bridges the print and digital realms, though I'm guessing that future guides will have increasingly greater content included in the scanned content, and likewise less content in print. Right now the codes exist to give readers a chance to get directions from one address to the location of the building, meaning that the maps in the book can be more general, orienting the buildings in the city but less concerned with their precisely detailed locations.
[Taiwan guide spread]
The same QVR codes are found in the earlier Taiwan guide by Ulf Meyer (the author of two other DOM architectural guides—Helsinki and Tokyo). With the same publisher it's no surprise that there is this sort of consistency, something that extends to the page layout, evidenced by comparing the above two spreads. As mentioned at the beginning, one of the main differences between the two guides is the way the Taiwan guide includes a lot of future projects. These include OMA's Taipei Performing Arts Centre, Reiser + Umemoto's Taipei Pop Music Centre, and Toyo Ito's Taichung Metropolitan Opera House, the most notable among many others. This is not to say that the buildings in Taipei and other cities in Taiwan are lacking notable buildings; the country has elevated the outside influence through the commission of well known architects, and these are the projects that will shape Taiwan's future and put it even more on the architectural map.
Japan:
US:
CA: UK: Taiwan:
US:
CA: UK:
Friday, February 15, 2013
28 in 28 #15: Modern Views
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Modern Views
Assouline, 2010
Hardcover, 200 pages
For the month of February I'm hosting a debate at Glass House Conversations on traditional versus modern architecture. My participation prompted me to flip through my copy of the companion book to Modern Views, a 2010 project that benefited Mies van der Rohe's Farnsworth House and Philip Johnson's Glass House, both operated and maintained by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. For Modern Views, "One hundred contemporary artists, architects, and designers created and donated works of art and written statements, capturing their inspiration about these iconic buildings and the architects who created them."
Beyond the National Trust connection, the two buildings are obviously linked by their form (rectangular boxes), material (glass), and timing (1949 for Glass House, and 1951 for Farnsworth House). It's also been shown that Johnson knew about Mies's design (he started it in 1945) but beat him to the punch. This history often ignores just how distinct each building is from the other—the way each addresses the ground (Farnsworth raised above, Glass House directly upon it); the related structure (Mies carefully detailed the steel to make the building look like it is magically propped up, though the steel structure at the Glass house is more incidental, blending in with the glass framing); the clients (Mies designed it for Dr. Edith Farnsworth while Johnson designed it for himself); the articulation of bathrooms (Mies chose wood, but Johnson opted for brick); and the function (the Farnsworth House is a single building that serves as a country retreat, but the Glass House was built alongside the Brick House that contained Johnson's bedroom). Yes, each house is a glass box, but there are infinite variations within that term to give each house its unique effects.
The catalog of approximately 100 works in Modern Views are split into four chapters: Architects, Landscape Architects, Artists, Designers. They are bookended by essays (Paul Goldberger, Phyllis Lambert, Sylvia Lavin) and original drawings of the Farnsworth House and Glass House. About half of the architects (the biggest chapter) simply dug something appropriate out of their archive, which is mildly disappointing. The ones that took the time to create something that addressed each house or the relationship between the two are a hit-or-miss bunch, but they also serve to say as much about the author as they do about the two houses. A good example is Léon Krier's imagining of a "future for the glass house" with timber framing, pitched roof and divided lights; it is more humorous than provocative. My favorite is Jeanne Gang's sketch of the Farnsworth House, where the trees are drawn in colored pencil then erased in part to define the silhouette of Mies's floating structure; nature is the key, not the architecture.
Similar distinctions—between old and new creations for the project—apply to the landscape architects, artists, and designers. Overall I'm drawn to the pieces that look at the relationship between the two houses, rather than the ones that look at just one house or find words to convey how an old work relates to the creation of Mies and Johnson. In this vein Fritz Haeg's piece—two pillows stitched with elevations of each house between the names of the clients and architects (Edith/Ludwig, David/Philip)—is a highlight; it gets at the personal nature of each house, going beyond the abstractions and generalizations that have been applied to them since the 1950s. Now they are museums, so that personal connection is just a memory, sacrificed for people to be inspired by their architecture and settings.
Purchase at The Glass House Design Store or Farnsworth House's online store to support your favorite house!
Modern Views
Assouline, 2010
Hardcover, 200 pages
For the month of February I'm hosting a debate at Glass House Conversations on traditional versus modern architecture. My participation prompted me to flip through my copy of the companion book to Modern Views, a 2010 project that benefited Mies van der Rohe's Farnsworth House and Philip Johnson's Glass House, both operated and maintained by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. For Modern Views, "One hundred contemporary artists, architects, and designers created and donated works of art and written statements, capturing their inspiration about these iconic buildings and the architects who created them."
Beyond the National Trust connection, the two buildings are obviously linked by their form (rectangular boxes), material (glass), and timing (1949 for Glass House, and 1951 for Farnsworth House). It's also been shown that Johnson knew about Mies's design (he started it in 1945) but beat him to the punch. This history often ignores just how distinct each building is from the other—the way each addresses the ground (Farnsworth raised above, Glass House directly upon it); the related structure (Mies carefully detailed the steel to make the building look like it is magically propped up, though the steel structure at the Glass house is more incidental, blending in with the glass framing); the clients (Mies designed it for Dr. Edith Farnsworth while Johnson designed it for himself); the articulation of bathrooms (Mies chose wood, but Johnson opted for brick); and the function (the Farnsworth House is a single building that serves as a country retreat, but the Glass House was built alongside the Brick House that contained Johnson's bedroom). Yes, each house is a glass box, but there are infinite variations within that term to give each house its unique effects.
The catalog of approximately 100 works in Modern Views are split into four chapters: Architects, Landscape Architects, Artists, Designers. They are bookended by essays (Paul Goldberger, Phyllis Lambert, Sylvia Lavin) and original drawings of the Farnsworth House and Glass House. About half of the architects (the biggest chapter) simply dug something appropriate out of their archive, which is mildly disappointing. The ones that took the time to create something that addressed each house or the relationship between the two are a hit-or-miss bunch, but they also serve to say as much about the author as they do about the two houses. A good example is Léon Krier's imagining of a "future for the glass house" with timber framing, pitched roof and divided lights; it is more humorous than provocative. My favorite is Jeanne Gang's sketch of the Farnsworth House, where the trees are drawn in colored pencil then erased in part to define the silhouette of Mies's floating structure; nature is the key, not the architecture.
Similar distinctions—between old and new creations for the project—apply to the landscape architects, artists, and designers. Overall I'm drawn to the pieces that look at the relationship between the two houses, rather than the ones that look at just one house or find words to convey how an old work relates to the creation of Mies and Johnson. In this vein Fritz Haeg's piece—two pillows stitched with elevations of each house between the names of the clients and architects (Edith/Ludwig, David/Philip)—is a highlight; it gets at the personal nature of each house, going beyond the abstractions and generalizations that have been applied to them since the 1950s. Now they are museums, so that personal connection is just a memory, sacrificed for people to be inspired by their architecture and settings.
Purchase at The Glass House Design Store or Farnsworth House's online store to support your favorite house!
Thursday, February 14, 2013
28 in 28 #14: Detail in Contemporary Concrete Architecture
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Detail in Contemporary Concrete Architecture by David Phillips and Megumi Yamashita
Laurence King Publishing, 2012
Hardcover, 224 pages
Previously I've reviewed a couple of Laurence King's Detail in Contemporary ... series, both by Virginia McLeod: ... Residential Architecture and ... Glass Architecture. Those books varied from each other in terms of what they emphasized, but also in how they were presented; the former grouped details of the 100 houses into chapters (walls, floors, roofs, etc.), while the latter presented each project with its details, one after the other. I can see the value in both approaches, but just like a set of working drawings, as long as cross-referencing is considered the titles will work; they will have value in educating architects and students about details, and allowing them to compare different ways of detailing where walls meet roofs and various other conditions.
Not surprisingly ... Concrete Architecture, written by David Phillips and Megumi Yamashita, follows the same format as ... Glass Architecture, putting about 50 projects into four chapters by building type (cultural, residential, commercial and public, and educational). Of course the emphasis is on concrete as a material, but it varies from overtly expressive concrete shells (Ryue Nishizawa's Teshima Art Museum) to buildings that use concrete to achieve similar ends even as they cover the material with metal panels (Zaha Hadid's Evelyn Grace Academy). But in this series it's all about the details. And in this regard the book is hit or miss, partially because each building is different and because the architects supplied the drawings; what they're willing to share obviously varies. For example, Toyo Ito's drawings for the Tama Art University Library are fantastic, going so far as to show the rebar layout in the hybrid steel-and-concrete arches. On the other hand, Nishizawa's Teshima Art Museum is documented with three long sections with absolutely no detail; they are laughable and probably should have been left out of the book, if it weren't for the fact the project is so unbelievable (part of the reason the drawings look preliminary). Thankfully the majority lean toward Ito rather than Nishizawa.
But if those sections are laughable, they pale in comparison to the Imperial conversions that are found throughout the book. Yes, people outside of the United States may hate inches, feet, and other units of measurement, but nevertheless there are standards to it that should be followed, just like one follows metric standards. When it comes to the small sizes of details—less than an inch—that is especially important. Fractions of an inch are 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, and 1/16. But what do we find in these details? Exposed concrete that is 3-9/10" thick; insulation that is 7/10" thick; a 2/5" thick piece of glass. These are not real measurements. Pick up an Imperial ruler and try to make these measurements; it's not possible. And that's a shame, for it's a distracting detail in an otherwise good book of details.
US: CA: UK:
Detail in Contemporary Concrete Architecture by David Phillips and Megumi Yamashita
Laurence King Publishing, 2012
Hardcover, 224 pages
Previously I've reviewed a couple of Laurence King's Detail in Contemporary ... series, both by Virginia McLeod: ... Residential Architecture and ... Glass Architecture. Those books varied from each other in terms of what they emphasized, but also in how they were presented; the former grouped details of the 100 houses into chapters (walls, floors, roofs, etc.), while the latter presented each project with its details, one after the other. I can see the value in both approaches, but just like a set of working drawings, as long as cross-referencing is considered the titles will work; they will have value in educating architects and students about details, and allowing them to compare different ways of detailing where walls meet roofs and various other conditions.
Not surprisingly ... Concrete Architecture, written by David Phillips and Megumi Yamashita, follows the same format as ... Glass Architecture, putting about 50 projects into four chapters by building type (cultural, residential, commercial and public, and educational). Of course the emphasis is on concrete as a material, but it varies from overtly expressive concrete shells (Ryue Nishizawa's Teshima Art Museum) to buildings that use concrete to achieve similar ends even as they cover the material with metal panels (Zaha Hadid's Evelyn Grace Academy). But in this series it's all about the details. And in this regard the book is hit or miss, partially because each building is different and because the architects supplied the drawings; what they're willing to share obviously varies. For example, Toyo Ito's drawings for the Tama Art University Library are fantastic, going so far as to show the rebar layout in the hybrid steel-and-concrete arches. On the other hand, Nishizawa's Teshima Art Museum is documented with three long sections with absolutely no detail; they are laughable and probably should have been left out of the book, if it weren't for the fact the project is so unbelievable (part of the reason the drawings look preliminary). Thankfully the majority lean toward Ito rather than Nishizawa.
But if those sections are laughable, they pale in comparison to the Imperial conversions that are found throughout the book. Yes, people outside of the United States may hate inches, feet, and other units of measurement, but nevertheless there are standards to it that should be followed, just like one follows metric standards. When it comes to the small sizes of details—less than an inch—that is especially important. Fractions of an inch are 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, and 1/16. But what do we find in these details? Exposed concrete that is 3-9/10" thick; insulation that is 7/10" thick; a 2/5" thick piece of glass. These are not real measurements. Pick up an Imperial ruler and try to make these measurements; it's not possible. And that's a shame, for it's a distracting detail in an otherwise good book of details.
US:
CA: UK:
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
28 in 28 #13: Best Highrises 2012/13
February is Book Month on A Daily Dose of Architecture. The "28 in 28" series features a different book every day of the month.
Best Highrises 2012/13: The International Highrise Award 2012 edited by Michaela Busenkell and Peter Cachola Schmal
Edition Detail, 2012
Paperback, 128 pages
How should a tall building be judged? Is it a matter of height, how much closer it gets us to scraping they sky? Or is it based on the form of a building in terms of aesthetics and performance? If the International Highrise Award 2012—administered by Deutsches Architekturmuseum (DAM) and DekaBank, both of Frankfurt—is any indication the second takes precedence over the first, but sustainability, public amenities, and usability are paramount. The winning tower at 1 Bligh Street in Sydney, Australia, is shorter than surrounding buildings, but one that stands out for its elliptical form and inviting public spaces on the tall ground floor. Inside is a stunning 30-story atrium space that draws hot air up through the building and provides plenty of sunlight for the offices lining it.
Ingenhoven Architects, with local firm Architectus, beat out four finalists whittled down from the 26 buildings nominated for the award; the map above shows the distribution of the finalists in red (a sixth is a special sustainable revitalization award) and the rest in blue. The towers are clustered in east Asia, Europe, and North America, so the odds were against 1 Bligh sitting all alone in Australia. Frank Gehry's 8 Spruce Street must have easily been a front-runner with its fabric-like metal skin and name attached to it; ARC Studio's seven interconnected Pinnacle@Duxton towers are impressive at the urban scale; Norman Foster cleverly uses tall shear-wall columns to frame views at The Troika; and MAD Architects' Absolute Towers (my initial pick to win and the winner of CTBUH's "Best Tall Buildings America" for 2012) have graceful undulations that cut a striking figure on the skyline.
So given the competition, immediately the award seems questionable. But the more I read about 1 Bligh in this book documenting the winner, the finalists, and the rest of the nominated buildings, the more I like it. The main reason is that it is a building that is genuinely concerned with being a part of the city beyond its profile on the skyline. Its elliptical shape responds to the parcel it sits on at the intersection of two street grids and the desire to give occupants quality views of the harbor. A17-meter-high (55-feet) ground-floor space invites people into the public spaces of the building, especially when the glass walls retract to aid in the atrium's stack effect; this is one aspect that has garnered 1 Bligh a 6 (highest) Green Star rating. But most impressive is the level of attention given to every aspect of the building's experience, from the plaza and lobby to the elevator ride and even the rooftop. Instead of focusing their energies on one or two aspects of the design (skin and form being the norm), they crafted a thoughtful building that happens to be tall enough to win this award.
Best Highrises 2012/13: The International Highrise Award 2012 edited by Michaela Busenkell and Peter Cachola Schmal
Edition Detail, 2012
Paperback, 128 pages
How should a tall building be judged? Is it a matter of height, how much closer it gets us to scraping they sky? Or is it based on the form of a building in terms of aesthetics and performance? If the International Highrise Award 2012—administered by Deutsches Architekturmuseum (DAM) and DekaBank, both of Frankfurt—is any indication the second takes precedence over the first, but sustainability, public amenities, and usability are paramount. The winning tower at 1 Bligh Street in Sydney, Australia, is shorter than surrounding buildings, but one that stands out for its elliptical form and inviting public spaces on the tall ground floor. Inside is a stunning 30-story atrium space that draws hot air up through the building and provides plenty of sunlight for the offices lining it.
Ingenhoven Architects, with local firm Architectus, beat out four finalists whittled down from the 26 buildings nominated for the award; the map above shows the distribution of the finalists in red (a sixth is a special sustainable revitalization award) and the rest in blue. The towers are clustered in east Asia, Europe, and North America, so the odds were against 1 Bligh sitting all alone in Australia. Frank Gehry's 8 Spruce Street must have easily been a front-runner with its fabric-like metal skin and name attached to it; ARC Studio's seven interconnected Pinnacle@Duxton towers are impressive at the urban scale; Norman Foster cleverly uses tall shear-wall columns to frame views at The Troika; and MAD Architects' Absolute Towers (my initial pick to win and the winner of CTBUH's "Best Tall Buildings America" for 2012) have graceful undulations that cut a striking figure on the skyline.
So given the competition, immediately the award seems questionable. But the more I read about 1 Bligh in this book documenting the winner, the finalists, and the rest of the nominated buildings, the more I like it. The main reason is that it is a building that is genuinely concerned with being a part of the city beyond its profile on the skyline. Its elliptical shape responds to the parcel it sits on at the intersection of two street grids and the desire to give occupants quality views of the harbor. A17-meter-high (55-feet) ground-floor space invites people into the public spaces of the building, especially when the glass walls retract to aid in the atrium's stack effect; this is one aspect that has garnered 1 Bligh a 6 (highest) Green Star rating. But most impressive is the level of attention given to every aspect of the building's experience, from the plaza and lobby to the elevator ride and even the rooftop. Instead of focusing their energies on one or two aspects of the design (skin and form being the norm), they crafted a thoughtful building that happens to be tall enough to win this award.
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