Theory // Materialism, Paul Rudolph, & Politics

MATERIALISM

I've had the privilege at USC to be exposed for the first time to architecture in terms of philosophy. Not philosophy in terms of architecture, which tends to explain design through top-down, esoteric means while glossing over pragmatic intention, but rather a way of thinking that exposes the root  self-organizing generators of cities and buildings as functions of the behavior of people and their various hierarchical structures (government, regulatory agencies, neighborhood councils, etc.). In other words, in many real cases the question has to be asked, where does architecture come from? As opposed to, what is it, or what is it trying to be, or why does it appear a certain way. This approach to understanding architecture holds great appeal for me, as I am strongly interested in the connection between life, particularly American life, and the built environment.

[Manuel de Landa, trying to communicate his theories to architects...]

Discussion // BOOM & Street Art

BOOM!!!

I was astounded, shocked, appalled, surprised, inspired...a whole host of verbs...to see a proposal on ArchDaily for a new large, low-lying luxurious residential / resort complex in Palm Springs entitled "BOOM." Geared towards retirees from the LGBT community*, the project is a bold and creative approach to the standard American mega-development, and raises some fascinating questions about economy, sustainability, timeliness, sexuality and social living.

[*Palm Springs is a mecca for LGBT's on the West Coast / in LA]

The "fact sheet" is standard for recent models of  high-end, large-scale development in the United States: not-too-densely-packed apartment and condo units; unique internal "neighborhoods" each designed by a different well-known architect, in this case by boundary-breaking contemporary firms including Diller Scofidio + Renfro, J Mayer H, Joel Sanders, Surfacedesign, Lot-Ek, etc; and a variety of amenities including swimming pools, gyms, restaurants, nightclubs, and on and on. I've worked on a similar project, albeit of different scope and style (think: New Urbanist) that has collected dust on the drawing board for the past three years; landmark proposals of this sort are common, but not often built.

Discussion // Contractors, Politicians, Education...and Diversions

Building A Better Education

Is architecture to blame for the decrepit state of American education?

Well, from the position of the designer, no. But the process by which public educational facilities are built, especially on public campuses of all levels of education, is certainly part of the issue. In the LA Times this morning there was a terrific series of thorough and informative exposés revealing wasteful spending, poor planning, potential corruption, hidden agendas, and during a decade of expansion on Los Angeles's community colleges.

[Suits and s***. Hope you kids like a leaky roof!]

Part I - Overview: here

Part II - Case Study: here

Contractor Kickbacks: here

Future Articles: here

Not all educational projects that require the services of an architect run into budget issues (I have had very positive experiences in this regard). Not all contractors are cheapskates (lots are) or incompetent (many are actually very very good) and not all politicians are corrupt (ahem). But when political and financial argy bargy / backroom deals begin to stain the process of building public facilities, which, by their nature, are to be cost-effective, efficient, durable, and well-suited to their tasks, huge problems can arise. Unfortunately, I believe these conflicts are more prevalent than one might imagine. They are damaging to the people who are supposed to benefit from facilities expansion, and damaging to the reputations of all parties involved (architects) no matter how much sway each held in making decisions.

Discussion // Residential Towers

In response to the need for architectural compromise (as directed) and other ideas of scale and aesthetic I enumerated in the previous post, I've diverted my approach to answering the question of urban housing in the United States from the all-encompassing block plan and instead begun to explore the viability of residential towers in relatively low-density neighborhoods. The first order of business, I suppose, is to come up with a sort of ad-hoc list of advantages and disadvantages of the tower typology, and to find ways of enhancing the positive aspects and reversing the negative. I've also listed a wide variety of potential precedents; any suggestions for others would be appreciated.

[Literal translation of the Morphosis model.]

Discussion // Potpurrtecture

Wide range of topics on tap for today, starting with some links...

How Skyscrapers Can Save the City (The Atlantic)

A sociocultural look at the benefits of high-density living, the article makes some interesting points about the perceived economic influence of scale and provides a counterpoint to the timeless cries of Jane Jacobs for preserving the scale of the street. The author is correct in his assertion that "historic districts," though they acknowledge the sanctity of heritage, actually become completely unaffordable in comparison to more dense models. The authors suggestions are not so helpful - if neighborhoods are allowed to determine the extent to which their individual characters are maintained, the status quo will unquestionably be maintained - but they at least make for stimulating debate. The article also ignores the technical aspects of tall buildings - production, fabrication, transportation of materials, assembly, carbon footprint vs. sprawl, etc. I'm not an expert on the science so it's not my place to critique tall buildings on it.

I have mixed feelings on the subject. First, it's obvious and irrefutable that our current use of land is wasteful and destructive. LA, naturally, is the poster child for a decaying ecology as a result of sprawl. Second, it's impossible to ignore that there are problems with housing of any typology without adequate transportation infrastructure. Skyscrapers demand a high-speed, 3d mass transit system of multiple levels. Unfortunately, these types of systems are fading away in the United States, leading to more and more surface sprawl - it's difficult to blame someone for destructiveness when there are so few alternatives, but our thinking definitely needs to change fast.

[Wouldn't be so bad to live here, don't you say? PSFS, Philadelphia, Howe + Lecaze, 1932. Can we update this model to fit our needs? Interesting that this pathfinding building is also in one of the most historical and traditional cities in the U.S.]

There are, of course, examples of good residential density at the skyscraper scale - Hong Kong, Singapore, New York (somewhat) - but also a lot of bad examples. And, tragically, there's no good way to hide a poor skyscraper as opposed to say, a cheaply-built Type-5 courtyard box. So who gets to design these things? How can we be sure that the design will (1) address urban and human scale on the ground level, (2) be as sustainable as possible, to whatever extent technology will allow, (3) be sensitive to surrounding urban fabric, (4) be affordable to a large sample of the population and (5) respond to the future to the degree that the building will initiate positive changes in infrastructure and land use? A tough task, indeed.

Project // Housing

First look at new mixed-use/student housing project (location: Vermont Ave. & Santa Monica Blvd, East Hollywood / Los Feliz, Los Angeles). Though I've spent most of my working career picking apart real projects of this type, I'm looking forward to rethinking it in more "exciting" terms...

Lifestyle // The Romanesque Romantic...or Don Juan de Stijl?

Architecture and romance maintain a curious and often tenuous rapport. One would expect, for example, that architects are tremendous lovers. After all, they work extensively with their strong but delicate hands. They have impeccable taste which has been cultivated through a broad and cultured education. They have an artistic sensibility and an appreciation for the sensuous qualities of form (body) and material (skin). And, of course, with an intimate knowledge of construction, they are handy to have around the house at all times of the day - or night. All these facts must have been considered when some Dutch academic journal recently listed "architect" as the world's sexiest profession. So not only are we (architects) great lovers, we're also the sexiest people. As if I didn't have enough already going for me, eh? Hardy har har...Tom-Cruise-lookalike my ass.

[House of the Century by Ant Farm. Is that a building or are you just excited to see me?]

Unfortunately for me, these qualities have not reversed to even a single degree my recent  fabulous failings in the world of love and romantic conquest. They should at least allow me to overcome my ice-cold first impressions, mumbling, constant looks of bitterness, anger, and/or consternation, and lack of emotional openness, right? Well, first I'd have to ask myself if it is even possible to live up to the standards set down by the egghead sociologists in Amsterdam or wherever and what possible misconceptions contribute to these illusory statements.

Project // Fall Semester Recap

[View from the penthouse of City National Plaza, where our final reviews - called "Blue Tape" - were held. More information on the event here and here.]

Fall semester at USC was like a romantic fling; at first, school work occupied my every thought, consumed my time and required my physical presence at all hours of the night, but I needed the pace - after all, I hadn't been in school for a long, long time. So I wanted it, and I got it. Hard. And then the semester crept along, and it became more and more difficult to maintain the pace that seemed so natural at the beginning. At certain points, I had to ask myself, "Why even bother? What am I getting out of this? I'm so busy I can't even think straight!" Towards the end, fatigue and frustration made the work unbearable, but I had to give it once last necessary push at the end, if for no other reason but to test myself. Then it all came to a halt - done - over. While in a way its saddening to detach yourself from the routine and the familiar faces, the end also brings a sense of incredible relief and a release of a massive burden. It's at that point you sternly assert, "I never want to go back to school ever again!!!"

But enough of the amorous conceit. I won't spend too much time discussing the work, just displaying it and providing some background. I would prefer to respond to comments rather than wax poetic about my own feelings, as conversation is always preferred to dictation. So, my loyal readers (all three or four of you), let me know what you think and I'll be happy to explain or clarify any confusing points.

First, some quick thoughts:

Place // San Diego, CA

Though there are few truly vital reasons to leave LA's urban soup for San Diego's relative towniness, there are a few compelling ones. Most of them involve fantastic CaliMex food, the insane Tijuana border--for which I had neither the stones nor the time to visit, instead choosing to guide my lovely female companions to relative safety/sanity--and NFL football, SoCal-style. But if you're a student of architecture, conquistadors, or just like the beach, it's worth a look. But first a little history...

The area was first explored by Spanish explorer Sebastian Vizcaino in 1602 and named for a Spanish saint, San Diego de Alcalá. In 1769, a group of Spanish missionaries established a permanent colony on a site now known as "Old Town" San Diego. Later, the colony transformed into a military outpost, displacing the missionaries a few miles to the east, and was the location of a few small skirmishes between Spanish soliders and the indigenous Native American tribe, the Kumeyaay. Mexico gained indepedence from Spain in 1821 and San Diego progressed under Mexican jurisdiction until the resolution of the Mexican-American War in 1850 (known as the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo) ceded the city to the U.S.

Update // Happy New Year!

Yes, the blog was left fallow through the end-of-semester madness and various holiday adventures. Apologies to all. But now it's time to pull up the weeds and get it crankin' once again! I have made it part of my resolutions to write more regularly - or at least as regularly as I used to - but it remains to be seen whether I have the fortitude to make it stick. I usually fail when it comes to resolutions, though I am a bit more optimistic about this year. The economy seems to be turning around, say the crackpot number doctors on Capitol Hill, which should make anyone in the architecture business smile a little (though it is unclear if this improvement will lead to more design jobs). And at long last, one of four semesters of M. Arch is in the books, and I have grown accustomed to the grind. 

Other resolutions: explore more of California and the Southwest. Trips hopefully in store: San Diego / Salk, Santa Barbara, Pacific Coast Highway, San Francisco, Vegas, Phoenix. At least one of these is sure to happen in the next month or so...updates on that later. Also, better health and more romance. Can't promise any (detailed) updates on that.

Visited the new LA Holocaust Museum this afternoon. Interesting building by LA firm Belzberg Architects...Mr. Belzberg was a visiting professor for the undergrads this fall. The surfaces and lines are soft and sinuous and the interior volumes are terraced, sunken into the ground and covered with grassy vegetation, creating a seamless transition to the undulating hills of Park La Brea on whose north end the museum sits. Shot-crete construction facilitated these formal gestures, and the hard nature of the material contrasts with the smooth curves. Philosophically, this is a vastly different approach than, for example, the obvious symbolism of Libeskind's jagged, violent forms in Berlin. Yet while it's a perfectly fine building in and of itself, it does leave me wanting a little bit more visible emotional content.

[Sunken entry.]

Project // Progress from Concept

End of the semester is approaching fast...the pile of work in front of me seems insurmountable, so I need all the encouragement I can get (hint hint...). Here is a current image of the (complete) reworking of the previous scheme. The courtyard becomes a more public space, though I imagine I will need to add a series of layered walls to improve security but not detract from the sense of elongation. It is quite different than the previous scheme, but I'm more pleased with this version. It's definitely riskier.

Also in the works is a research paper on the patterns of development on Atlanta's west side. Do any of you NBA readers have any info I might be able to use about the Howard School? (Phasing, site conditions, etc.) It's an interesting topic that I think needs to be viewed wholistically in its analysis, instead of focusing on places like Atlantic Station as isolated urban entities. Any other tips on sites I can use as case studies? Right now I have AS, Howard, White Provisions / Brady, King Plow / Marietta St.

Theory // Concept as the Generator

I did some writing for studio the other day, not to fulfill a prescribed exercise but as a means of disengaging from the design process for a little while. I needed to clear my head of the building. Instead, I chose to address my weaknesses as a student of architecture - namely, understanding the building as a result of ideas and a basic conceptual ethos that is personal to each individual. The following writings and quotes, I feel, begin to offer support in terms of my own fundamental attitudes towards architecture that sometimes get lost in the process of creating technically-proficient buildings.

I am undertaking this process of exploration to better understand the ways in which architecture is generated. To this point, a narrow focus on program efficiency has constricted, rather than liberated, the effort to create architecture that is both functional and beautiful and which fully represents my aspirations as a student of design. Unfortunately, the circularity of a repetitive and continuous reworking of program, with no comprehensive formal result, has unearthed a deep, inner frustration that I am now seeking to purge through transcribed self-reflection. To state the matter simply, I need to breathe. I need to let the design breathe. The building needs space, time, light, and air, just as I do at this moment.

To engage this process, I must first accept that my aspirations are not wholly encompassed in the project’s final physical manifestation, and that there are ways to integrate these as-of-yet peripheral interests into my current project. I have, for example, a strong interest in the social qualities of contemporary architecture that begin to shape communities – specifically, those in and around American cities. To me, buildings establish, in any particular environment, a definitive visual character. To that end, they are real, tangible elements of place that evoke a sense of spatial identity. This character can be expressed through material, structure, color, shape, profile, type, use, or scale; it can consciously and conspicuously break away from the existing context to challenge long-held and/or misguided preconceptions, traditions, or habits, or it can blend in to maintain a successful, functioning status quo. It can be figural, interpretive or abstract. It can explore new technologies, improve on time-honored methods or defer to economy. There is an almost unlimited and ever-changing variety of choices that affect visual character.

The only consistent underlying element of this character, however, is the collection of people who absorb it. I do not mean consistent in terms of ethnicity, class, gender, age, etc., but rather in the faculties of perception and experience, and the possession of basic values. The users, who, in the case of our project, are indeed inclusive of every realm and strata of society, from the students to the teachers to the general public, define why the building exists. The why, in essence, precedes the how. As a result, it is critical to formulate a consistent conceptual framework that explains a project’s reasons for being in relation to the ways in which people will interact with it. Only with this guide can one begin to understand how the complex dynamic relationship between the building [the architecture] and the community, and to ensure that this relationship is symbiotic and self-perpetuating. I know, unfortunately, that this guide has been missing from my work up to this point, at least in a form that is cohesive and useful; I guess I have to ask, is it beneficial to reevaluate and even reform the conceptual basis for any of the decisions I have made thus far?

I believe so. My attitude has revolved almost exclusively around the idea of making a building. Make a good building, that is all the matters. But it’s about making a place, isn’t it? And if I’m not making a good place, I’m not making a good building. Bob Harris said – “If the rooms aren’t any good, then to hell with it.” I don’t think he was referring to the shape of the room, the placement, etc., but to its character. Does it serve the people well? Does it contribute to a sense of community? It’s clear to me that this attitude needs to change to accommodate the aspiration of community- and place-making I’ve outlined above.

TYPES OF GENERATORS

Having read through a number of various monographs and texts, each reflecting the process of an established designer or design firm, I have consolidated the most fundamental principles of their strategies into the following six categories. These principles are not isolated as polemical rhetoric, but directly encourage the changes in attitude I hope to undertake in my own design process.

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.

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.

Case Study // Inner City Arts

Inner City Arts School

Los Angeles, CA (map) (website)

Architect: Michael Maltzan Architects (website)

[Phase I started 1989 / Phase III completed 2008]

Through a fortunate connection between USC and the design architects I, along with my studio, had a chance to take a private tour of this local campus as research for our K-5 school project.  Our guides - two designers from local firm Michael Maltzan Architects and two school representatives - gave valuable insight into the program needs and design strategies steering the project. I'm really beginning to admire the work of Maltzan's office; it ranges from high-end residential to low-income housing to non-profit, and engages cost-effective realized projects to innovative theory.

The school operates in conjunction with the Los Angeles Unified School District, providing non-discriminatory art education to K-12 students from around the city who have may not have daily access to similar programs in their own schools as a result of severe budget cuts. Students attend 1.5 sessions in various disciplines, from ceramics to performing arts, painting, animation, or graphic design, two days per week for seven weeks. The school hosts plays and musical performances from professional outfits, and also serves as a civic meeting place in one of the most under-privileged neighborhoods in Los Angeles.

The scale of the building is very intimate which facilitates interactive learning. The relatively small spaces cater to children, whose needs are the clear priority of the design strategy; the scale also differentiates the project from many of the more recent and extravagant LAUSD projects that have come under intense public scrutiny. Each individual space is flexible and can easily be converted for multiple uses through the implementation of garage doors, movable partitions and mobile furniture. Walls are left bare as a "canvas" for the work of students. Natural light enters each space through the addition of skylights and light wells; skylights were also added in the Phase I construction, which converted an old 1920's body shop to offices, a painting and dance studio and music room. Windows/glazing are not placed arbitrarily, as one might read them, but rather according to function (for example, ground-level "inverted" clerestories to give working potters a connection to the outside earth, a subtle but profound inclusion) and to provide maximum security from the street.

Really an excellent case study and one that restores some of my lost faith in the architectural profession as an agent of positive change.

[Street View. Much of what is seen here is a former Hudson Auto Dealership.]

[Pottery studio atrium & covered kiln yard.]

[Ceramics tower.]

[Courtyard and giant palm tree.]

[Rooftop parking with a great view of downtown.]

[Phase I construction. Roof trusses & decking from old body shop preserved.]

[New theater reception.]

[Inside of pottery/ceramics tower. Orange to symbolize optimism.]

[Library & one of our studio instructors.]

["Inverted clerestories."]

[Dance studio. Construction intentionally left unfinished as an educational tool.]

Project // School (Updated)

Goin with this scheme...a lot more curvaceous than what I usually do ;) If anyone knows how to get rid of those artifacts in V-ray for the last image, holler.

Discussion // Mode & Motives

Strikingly similar quotes:

The vision is an answer to the fundamental question: what shall we build in any given place, where a project is to be undertaken. This question does not ask how it is organized, how it is designed, what character the architecture has…but simply the most fundamental question of all: what is it? What is going to be there?

In today’s development, this question is asked, and answered, almost exclusively in economic terms. What can pay for itself there? What can make money there?

Of course the projects which are built, in answer to this question, and after the necessary consumer surveys, are machine-like, abstract, lifeless. They are uninteresting, not vivid. They are incapable of exciting us, or moving us, because they are not human in their quality. 

-Christopher Alexander, A New Theory of Urban Design (1987)

The discovery of building as a new paradigm in our work happened at the same time as a change in the situation of the western city, which involved the extensive reformulation of conditions affecting contemporary architecture as a whole : the gradual privatization of the public space of the city. Faced with a complete lack of public funds, cities and local authorities found themselves increasingly unable to play an active role in urban planning developments, and instead sold out to investors, who helped themselves to the biggest and best pieces of the city. It was a game whose end could be predicted: architecture would end up as infrastructure built to maximize the profits of a global economy.

-Wolf D. Prix, Coop Himmelblau - Philosophy

Both of these statements address the following phenomenon: the end of the era of master planning and a renewed interest in the piecemeal / naturally evolving urbanism that preceded the Modern Movement. Just through observation, one can recognize the the traces of corporate interest inhabit nearly every piece of American architecture [which encompasses all building construction] over the last fifty years, save a few exceptional examples. It will be fascinating to see how the relationship between economics and architecture - which at the moment is strained to the breaking point - changes over the next few years.

[Even existing innovative / experimental / controversial buildings like this (Buckhead Library, Scogin Elam & Bray, 1989) are under threat of demolition for economic concerns. Is there room for a shift in values for exceptional cases?]

Discussion // Complexity & Contradiction

(This will an evolving post, so don't be alarmed by the length. I will continue to update it as I notice further relationships.)

The rhetoric over theory vs. practice in architecture is tired and worn out, and if you've ever worked in an office you don't need to be told the differences. But for my generation, there are some new wrinkles in this complicated - and often criticized - relationship that are starting to affect the discipline as a whole. In the traditional model of architectural education and practice, the conflict could be modeled simply as a push and pull between design (form, art, sculpture, independence) and reality (economy, gravity, dependence).

Design < >  Reality

[Sant Elia - Futurist, but still with pen, paper, and straight edge. The forms are recognizable as buildings.]

Now I believe there is a third element to this conflict: technology. More specifically, computers and visualization software. For centuries, since the days when Brunelleschi doodled the famous structure of the dome, the methods of architectural representation remained relatively constant: drawing tool, straight edge, and paper. The use of such devices limited our ability to conceive of form beyond what was structurally possible or referential to some previous typology. Computers, on the other hand, have allowed our imaginative powers to far outrun our ability to practically create, because they not only translate what we think but also generate based on complicated sets of parameters or algorithms. As a result, a new style, or field of research (I don't really know what to call it) of "virtual architecture" has emerged, championed by the likes of Zaha Hadid / Patrik Schumacher, Roland Snooks and others, whose bearing on real architecture has yet to be fully explored or even explained clearly by those who profess it.
 

[Diaz Alonso - what in the world is this without context? How was it made?]

What all this leads to, at least with me since I feel like I'm not brilliant enough to decipher it all, is an incredible confusion as to what architecture - especially in this country - actually is and where I should focus myself in school. Should I look into parametric design simply because it's new and innovative, to broaden my horizons? Should I avoid it if I think it's irrelevant to my own interests? Should I even bother looking at history if the tools of the trade have evolved so much? These are questions I have to deal with even as I'm forced to struggle to catch up with learning new software (I've found out so far I'm very much behind). So now the conflicts in architecture look like this:

Design (Practical) < > Design (Virtual) < > Technology < > Reality < > Generational

Sometimes it's all a bit too much to handle, I'll admit. Now with the conflicts mapped out, I'm going to start keeping a list of contradictions in architectural practice vs. education, the purpose of which is not to completely discount what I learn, but simply to refer it to my ultimate goal of becoming an architect who builds buildings. Sure it's been done before many times, but I think it's healthy for every student of architecture to develop his or her own. I'll start off with a few, feel free to add, contribute, suggest, refute, etc.

1. The Role of the Architect in the Realization of Projects

This one is obvious. In school, you are taught ways of making cities better one building or project at a time, as if you are the spontaneous generator of the need.

Project // K-5 School, South LA

Very preliminary image for a school in South LA. Also, a first attempt at Rhino modeling...not great but it's a start.

[First iteration]

[Second Iteration]

Lifestyle // Traffic Jam Theater

Stumbled across this story on NPR about Los Angeles artist Joel Kyack, who stages puppet shows from the back of his truck amidst the city's worst traffic snarls.

[All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances.]

 This article is fascinating for a few reasons; firstly, it touches again on the topic of mobile, or dynamic, architecture in which the paradigm of certain traditional cultural institutions - in this case, theater - has evolved to include transiency, improvisation and whimsy [see the previous post about food trucks]. Additionally, Kyack's ideas about the nature of performance, the choreography of movement and patterns of behavior are strikingly architectural. A few of my favorite quotes:

"I like chaos," Kyack observes. "I like things that are moving in and out of control, like negotiations of agency and resignation. And for me, the traffic jam is that."  

Wow, that sounds like it came straight out of architecture school. It nearly refers to "swarm intelligence," a trendy topic in many futurist / avant garde design programs about uncontrolled systems and one that I've mentioned before on this blog.

"How you navigate, how you make the world that you want around you, and how you compromise with what the world's giving you," Kyack explains. "And I think that formally, the traffic jam is sort of the perfect metaphor to explore that."

Compromise is an important facet of architecture that is often ignored in theory but appears again and again in practice; it sometimes leads so much frustration during the design process that it leads one to question the viability or usefulness of the architectural profession. But what Kyack says here, quite optimistically, is that compromise is an opportunity. It is a means by which we can explore the constraints of life, add to them, and freely enrich ourselves. The constraint of traffic, for example, could lend to compelling studies about the various layers of architecture contained within (the car environment, the road as a form of architecture that contains "inhabitants" and performs living functions, or, as shown here, the traffic jam as a staging area, etc.). After all, we spend so much time in automotive purgatory, yet traffic is very underutilized in a practical sense. Radio shows and the like are sufficient entertainment but lack context - there's no element of "now" or "here."

Lastly, my absolute favorite snippet:

He doesn't get in trouble. But then again, the cops don't quite buy his academic theories about offering a space of engagement for drivers to reflect on the chaotic structures of their daily routine.

Is this the author taking a little potshot at dullard cops? Could be...but there it is again, the conflict between academia and real life that often gets smarty types in trouble. More compromising is in order!