Is it the architect? The developer? Or perhaps the city? The correct answer, it would seem, is whoever has the most followers on social media:
For the Norwegian branch of the social media movement Architectural Uprising, this revision was another feather in its cap. Founded in Sweden in 2014 as a public Facebook group, the Uprising is a collective of citizen design critics who object to what organizers call the “continued uglification” of developments in Nordic cities, and push for a return to classically informed design. With more than 100,000 social media followers across some 40 different branches, the group now serves as a significant platform for those who assert that the public, not just bureaucrats, architects, developers and property owners, ought to have a voice in the design of their built environments.
As a developer and person who studied architecture, I find this frustrating. Imagine you're a painter working in a busy public square. And every time somebody walks by and shouts a new criticism, you need to change your art. How would you feel about your work?
Now assume that your painting is an expensive commission. Your clients just re-mortgaged their home to pay for it and they specifically asked you for a painting that looks like something from Henri Matisse's "Blue Nudes" collection.
Unfortunately, the crowd in the public square wasn't a fan of the color blue or of abstract figures, and so you've instead rendered dozens of well-fed Renaissance figures sitting in a lively garden eating grapes. "Sorry, hope you like it. This is what the critics wanted."
Look, I may be stretching here. I fully appreciate that architecture is inherently a more public form of art than painting. I just think it's important to give entrepreneurs, artists, and other creatives the freedom to experiment.
If we force everyone to look toward the past, how will the misfits ever create the future?
P.S. I have no issue with voting on publicly-funded architecture. I actually think that's a good idea.
If you work in the development industry in Toronto, then you know, or know of, Norm Li. He runs one of the top visual content studios in the city and the country. But he (and the company) also do a bunch of other things like DJ at industry events and fly around in a helicopter taking incredible photos of the city from above. He invited me to join him in 2018 and I captured photos like these.
This past week he sent me a text with the below photos of Junction House and a message saying, "new lock screen." I, of course, immediately blasted them around to the team and then asked if I could post them online. I love how these turned out. And every time I see our placemaking sign, I am happy that we fought for what we all believed would end up looking pretty cool.
Thanks for the photos, Norm.
I had an interesting meeting today talking about the structural approach behind this OMA-designed project in Brooklyn (pictured above).
I have always found structural engineering fascinating. Structures, along with physics, were some of my favorite classes from high school all the way to grad school. So even though I don't think my personality is ideally suited to engineering, if I were ever to become an engineer, I'm fairly certain that I would need to be a structural one.
For this project the big structural challenge was the large cantilevers that you see above in the tower on the left. As I understand it, there a number of ways to deal with this. One way would be to just design large transfer slabs and/or beams. But given the size of this tower, these would end up being very deep, and so you'd be really compromising the spaces where these structural transfers occur.
How they actually dealt with it is through sloping columns (which you can see in the above photo if you look closely). What these columns do is gradually transfer the loads across multiple floors in the building, until they reach structure that runs all the way down the tower.
At the same time, the spaces underneath the sloping columns are essentially "hung" from above. Meaning the columns are in tension, instead of being in compression, which is typically how columns work. The result is that you get some sloping columns in the suites. But I think that's kind of cool. If you're nerdy enough to care, it tells you how the structure of the building is working.
Obvious disclaimer: I am not a structural engineer. You probably want to consult one if you're looking to do a cantilevered tower with sloping columns.