10.22.2010

Project // Rhino Class Fun

Rhino class provides a nice little diversion from studio - often the modeling process is best learned through forms that have nothing to do with architecture. I had some fun designing a little add-on for a tennis racket model I made, it's a clip-on scorekeeper...simple, but fun. A chance to de-stress; actually, I think I like this better than my building.

P.S. Disregard the crappiness of the the renderings, Rhino has an internal render engine that is extremely limited compared to Vray / Maxwell, but we were directed to use it for this exercise


10.21.2010

Project // Midterms

Here are the results of the midterm crunch...I had to completely revamp my design strategy a week before the review, so it's really quite unresolved. I'll hold my personal feelings about it until I've received some external feedback.

The good news is now I can relax and take my mind off of it for awhile.

10.10.2010

Discussion // Mode & Motives

Here's a little long-delayed hotlist of items that have been occupying my thoughts lately....

1. I have a problem. My confidence in my design talent is evaporating like sweat on 115F Los Angeles days (can you believe that was the actual temperature? I felt like I was swimming in a convection oven). All I want to do is make buildings that are beautiful, sculptural, creatively functional and innovative, but I struggle. I'm asking: is this a problem you also deal with? If so, how did you get over it? And, is it so wrong to struggle in the process of learning? Is it even worth going through this pain if I'm not the best, or even close to it? Some people find the completion of the work rewarding in itself regardless of the outcome, but I destroy myself no matter the process because the result never lives up to my own expectations. I get too caught up in the details. Oh well, you can't change who you are, can you?

2. I've noticed that attitudes about design within the United States aren't simply a function of local popular culture or stylistic preference (though each have plenty of influence), but also of real-life problems that emerge from conditions of geography, politics, and history. Many of these issues are expressed in the technical details most people take for granted (myself included) wherever they live because those are most familiar. Sloped roofs, enclosed 2-hr rated fire stairs, double-loaded corridors (or for that matter, interior enclosed circulation), neoclassicism, stacked masonry, grassy lawns, oak and pine trees, porticoes, horizontal shades, shutters, downspouts, snow cleats are unnecessary or non-existent in LA. On the flip side, I've learned more about earthquake design in just a couple of months than I have in years of east coast training. Architectural language is as different as the weather, terrain, and vegetation, as well as the people - just as it should be. No wonder all those Kieran Timberlake precedent studies I love so much aren't translating so well over here....

[Sorry, KT, I'm not in Kansas anymore...I sure do miss those red & yellow trees though.]
3. What's wrong with designing a box and treating the surface as the vessel for your artistry? The "jewel box" as it were. I know I said attitudes don't deal strictly with style, but the academic types here in LA abhor the decorated shed. Vast numbers of European architects, of course, are exceptional at accentuating simple forms, but folks like Rem, Zaha, and Bjarke rule the roost as far as formal (shape making) design process is concerned. The unfortunate aspect of this phenomenon as that their formal investigations as they relate to urban conditions, which are often quite ingenious, are not correlated. This sort of pedagogy, where form, urbanism, and tectonics are treated as separate and ordered steps, leads to exuberant, almost over-developed formal explorations without much concern for program or urban condition and without much systematic relevance. The formal diagram is too isolated, devaluing the weeks spent on site analysis.

This leads to another question - does LA need more modern object buildings in a city where most of the buildings are objects anyway? Is that a crucial component of the LA identity, this architectural melange of formal recklessness that is, in fact, mysterious, fascinating, and utterly unique? The New Urbanists - the dastardly denouncers of daring design - believe object buildings can only stand out in a sea of consistency that must be pre-established. That is the European condition, and it works for them, but we don't have the luxury of density here in America (and ESPECIALLY not in LA), at least in the same sense. So we have to manufacture it from nothing - which is why Seaside makes me wanna barf. So what do we do? What do I do?

One reason I'm a little conflicted is I'm working on an elementary school on a site that demands an urban response. The building is driven by program and there isn't much liberty for wasteful / unused space. I've taken this on as a design direction but my project feels boring compared to the more fanciful efforts of my classmates, though theirs probably aren't as rational. Alas! My sobriety is bringing me down again...

4. LA is a terrible place to go out at night. Sure, there's great food everywhere, and people of all cultures embrace American life and vice versa, but damn everything is so spread out and if you're not a native (like me), trying to find a beer bar at 12:30 am when you're stuck in Arcadia (I still don't know where that is) is like a blind man trying to find Spanish gold on a beach without a metal detector. Developing a "going-out" routine takes incredible effort that I don't have time to put in. In which case, ass = on couch / in studio chair. Blech.

5. But on the bright side, I did find a good place to watch movies in LA. Vista Theater. Check it.

Found: Authentic LA movie place. Cantonese-style grub. Taco stands. Karaoke Bars. Museums.
Not found: Decent beer bar. Dance club. Cheap places to shop. Dumpling house. Good pizza. Companionship. Tennis partner. Parking.