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.

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.]

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.

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!

Film // Visual Acoustics: The Modernism of Julius Shulman

Visual Acoustics tells the story of California Modernism through the eyes and camera of Julius Shulman (1910-2009), a man whose humility, kind temperament and infectious humor belie his standing as the preeminent American architectural photographer of the past century. His lens was the conduit through which many of this country’s most famous and brilliant designers became publicly known; Richard Neutra, Rudolf Schindler, Frank Lloyd Wright, Albert Frey and John Lautner all owe some measure of their professional success to the elegant way Shulman represented their work. His role as the anonymous herald of American Modernism, helping to foster an appreciation for the movement both domestically and abroad, is a fascinating subject for this whimsical but streamlined documentary from director Eric Bricker.

Historically, Julius Shulman’s opera completa successfully captures the essence of the pioneer spirit that drove disciples of Wright and Louis Sullivan from the Chicago area (Lautner, E. Stewart Williams) and students of the Bauhaus (Neutra, Schindler) from central Europe to Los Angeles in the early 1930s. At that time, Los Angeles was experiencing an unprecedented building boom, having grown from the 36th largest city in the US in 1900 to the 5th by 1930. Sprawling urban conditions and an unrefined surrounding natural landscape provided designers with an irresistibly clean slate on which they could test new designs and construction techniques. Los Angeles became a locus of creative expression. Much of the work that followed in the region featured a trademark exuberance that came to represent a new California-based architectural vernacular. Shulman translated this language into images; his most iconic, a night scene of Pierre Koenig’s Case Study House #22, combines the grace of modern architecture, the vitality of west coast living and the hopeful glow of progress exuded by the evolving American city into one frame. The house itself, now regarded as a masterpiece of domestic construction, became, as a result of Shulman’s photography, a symbolic representation of the goals of an entire age of architects and designers.

From a visual standpoint, the film seems to direct itself; Shulman has already provided the story in his photographs. What differentiates this film from other architectural documentaries, however, is its focus on the means by which public perception and interest in architecture is generated rather than the individual architect or building. The ideal experience of architecture, of course, occurs in situ, where in the presence of context we are able to understand the nuances of space and detail; unfortunately, by circumstances of economy, logistics, or geography, the opportunity for such an experience is as rare as the buildings we deem worthy of our attention. We rely accordingly on the literate, sensible eye of the traveling professional photographer to translate these characteristics and convey them in single images. Through his own interpretations, the photographer controls our response to the subject matter. Shulman—a staunch environmentalist and outspoken critic of Postmodern reactionaries—did so with his work.

Shulman was in the unique position by virtue of his craft of having some involvement with nearly every great work of American Modernism. While architects are isolated practitioners who devote themselves for years to one project in one place, Shulman with his many clients functioned as the sociocultural link between architects, developers, and tenants scattered across the country. He knew everyone and seemed to share a common language even when architects disagreed amongst themselves. He developed long-lasting personal friendships—particularly with Neutra, his early mentor, Schindler and Lautner—that transcended professional practice or esotericism. His life binds the entire history of American Modernism and the lives of the people involved into one neat package, providing the perfect human perspective for a film on the subject.

Lately I’ve had the good fortune of seeing two very disparate yet inspiring films rooted in architecture; first, Inception, which appeals to my as-yet-undeveloped creative futurist side, and this film, which reinforces my modernist romanticism. Each has strengthened the thrust of the pioneer spirit that is fueling my west coast odyssey. In short, I can’t wait to go! Sandy beaches, palm trees and Cali style here I come…

Notes

-During the few minutes of the film devoted to Shulman’s criticism of Postmodernism, two buildings in Atlanta (photographed by Shulman, naturally) were shown as examples of architecture he disliked…Can anyone guess what they are? Bonus points or other miscellaneous favors for the winner. You can find both of the buildings in my Flickr album….;)

-If you want to see originals prints of Shulman’s photographs, they are currently on display on at the Getty Center in Santa Monica, CA.

-Arts & Architecture Magazine was the venue where many of Shulman’s photos were first published, especially those featuring the Case Study Houses. This magazine was instrumental in spreading the work of Shulman and the architects he photographed, but its importance constitutes a whole set of posts on its own…so I’ll get to it later haha

Film // Inception

Even without prolonged consideration, I can say with certainty that Inception is truly one of the most remarkable films ever made. If you are an architect and are passionate about your craft, the philosophical questions posed in the film about the nature of creativity should resonate to the very core of what drives you. I mentioned in a comment on the previous post, which is also about architecture in film and whose content bears relevance to this post, that I have recently been interested in only the visceral qualities of buildings - material, texture, shape, form, aesthetic - but I'm finding that view to be incredibly short-sighted in light of the words of respected colleagues and the works of genius artist/philosophers like Christopher Nolan. I have learned that dreaming, sensuality, and the creative subconscious are all just as important as we interpret our world through our mind. 

I don't want to discuss particular points of the movie here, but I am really curious to hear insight from the rest of you. For myself, I can already tell grad school will be a rewarding venture - I can't wait to put some of these notions to the test!

Discussion // Modern? Explain yourself!

^^^Symphony No. 1, Richard Pousette-Dart, and Nighthawks, Edward Hopper. Painted in the same year (1942), with vastly different themes.

Well, here it goes…in order for this blog to be successful, the parameters of the content must be established for discussion to occur; unfortunately, that requires at least a working definition of the word ‘modern.' This is not easily achieved, as hasty labeling and misplaced attribution have long muddled the precise meaning. Most interpretations tend to fall within six categories, which range from general to specific:

History & Iconography. Intertwined with such terms as “The Modern Era,” “Modernism,” and “The International Style,” the historical interpretation of ‘modern’ describes the period between 1910-1940 in Europe and 1940-1970 in the United States during which design, construction, manufacturing, and lifestyle underwent a dramatic break from tradition as a result of new philosophies and technologies. Leaders of this movement included Walter Gropius and Mies van der Rohe of the Bauhaus, Alvar Aalto, Le Corbusier, Frank Lloyd Wright, Marcel Breuer, Richard Neutra, R.M. Schindler, Ray and Charles Eames, Eero Saarinen, George Nelson, Florence Knoll, Harry Bertoia, Giuseppe Terragni and Gio Ponti. “The 1929 Barcelona Pavilion is a splendid example of Modernism.”

^^^Classic Modernist interior. R. Neutra, Lovell Heath House, 1929

Chronology. Anything current or contemporary. “Have you seen that brand new modern school?”

Technology. Anything that utilizes revolutionary technology or revolutionizes an aspect of daily life through its technology. “The personal computer is a modern essential; without it, we’d still be writing with paper and pencil and doing math by hand!”

Style. Mod…Modernista…Probably the most widely-used definition, it describes the aesthetic qualities of art, music, architecture, fashion, manufactured items, or means of living that identify with contemporary trends or values and are relatively experimental or unconventional in nature. “I admire their modern, eco-friendly lifestyle,” or, “That new painting makes no visual sense; I hate modern art!”

Evolution. Advanced; ahead of the times; the most current iteration of development. “Modern accounting methods make business far more efficient.”

Philosophy. An approach to living that eschews traditionalism, encourages experimentation and accepts the evolution of the aspects of lifestyle listed above as natural and, in most cases, beneficial. “It’s amazing how modern she is compared to her husband, who is very conservative and stuck in the past.”

There is no one perfect definition, and there is no combination that is right for everyone. Choose your own and make it you. For me, ‘modern’ is a measure of quality. It must incorporate quality and taste, craft, detail, and diligence, and requires a critical assessment of possible future utilizations and interpretations. What is your ‘modern’?