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The work of John Snow is instrumental to the field of epidemiology. In the mid-19th century, during what was the third major outbreak of cholera, he created the following map showing the clusters of cholera cases in London's Soho neighborhood. Stacked rectangles were used to indicate the number of cholera cases in a particular location. This was a major breakthrough for the fight against cholera because, at the time, it wasn't clear what was causing it. According to Wikipedia, there were two main competing theories. There was the miasma theory, which posited that cholera was caused by bad particles in the air. And there was the germ theory, which posited that cholera could be passed along through food and/or water.
By mapping the clusters of cases, Snow discovered a concentration of incidents in around the intersection of Broad Street and Cambridge Street (now Lexington Street) where a water pump was located that drew water from the Thames. This led Snow to the conclusion that it was maybe a bad idea to offer up polluted river water as drinking water. And sure enough, when the pump was shut off and residents were directed to other nearby pumps, the incidences of cholera began to decline. The germ theory had proven to be true.
The first time I saw John Snow's map was in architecture school. Perhaps many of you have seen it as well. It is often used to illustrate the potential of visual representations to not only tell a story, but to teach the creator what that story actually is. In hindsight, it may seem obvious that polluted river water is something that we maybe shouldn't drink, but it wasn't at the time. This map helped people understand that. Today, we have far more sophisticated tools available to us, but we still have a lot to learn and we're doing that every day -- particularly during a pandemic.
One other thing worth mentioning is that there are a few exceptions to Snow's findings. Supposedly, many of the workers in a nearby brewery were able to completely avoid the cholera infection during the outbreak by only drinking their own brew. Some say it is because the brewery had its own water source, whereas others say it is because the brewing process -- the water is boiled -- kills the cholera bacteria. Either way, I think the moral of this story is pretty clear: when in doubt, choose beer over water.
Map: Wikipedia
Take a look at this photo from Central in Hong Kong and note the MEP (mechanical, electrical, and plumbing) systems running up the cutout in the middle of the tower. Also note the bamboo scaffolding next door and the epic terrace on top of the ground floor bank. The building on the opposite side put parking on top of its podium.
The work of John Snow is instrumental to the field of epidemiology. In the mid-19th century, during what was the third major outbreak of cholera, he created the following map showing the clusters of cholera cases in London's Soho neighborhood. Stacked rectangles were used to indicate the number of cholera cases in a particular location. This was a major breakthrough for the fight against cholera because, at the time, it wasn't clear what was causing it. According to Wikipedia, there were two main competing theories. There was the miasma theory, which posited that cholera was caused by bad particles in the air. And there was the germ theory, which posited that cholera could be passed along through food and/or water.
By mapping the clusters of cases, Snow discovered a concentration of incidents in around the intersection of Broad Street and Cambridge Street (now Lexington Street) where a water pump was located that drew water from the Thames. This led Snow to the conclusion that it was maybe a bad idea to offer up polluted river water as drinking water. And sure enough, when the pump was shut off and residents were directed to other nearby pumps, the incidences of cholera began to decline. The germ theory had proven to be true.
The first time I saw John Snow's map was in architecture school. Perhaps many of you have seen it as well. It is often used to illustrate the potential of visual representations to not only tell a story, but to teach the creator what that story actually is. In hindsight, it may seem obvious that polluted river water is something that we maybe shouldn't drink, but it wasn't at the time. This map helped people understand that. Today, we have far more sophisticated tools available to us, but we still have a lot to learn and we're doing that every day -- particularly during a pandemic.
One other thing worth mentioning is that there are a few exceptions to Snow's findings. Supposedly, many of the workers in a nearby brewery were able to completely avoid the cholera infection during the outbreak by only drinking their own brew. Some say it is because the brewery had its own water source, whereas others say it is because the brewing process -- the water is boiled -- kills the cholera bacteria. Either way, I think the moral of this story is pretty clear: when in doubt, choose beer over water.
Map: Wikipedia
Take a look at this photo from Central in Hong Kong and note the MEP (mechanical, electrical, and plumbing) systems running up the cutout in the middle of the tower. Also note the bamboo scaffolding next door and the epic terrace on top of the ground floor bank. The building on the opposite side put parking on top of its podium.
I was told that systems are commonly run on the outside of buildings here to maximize interior square footage. Again, space is a precious commodity in this city. But it also speaks to not having to worry about freeze-thaw cycles. Winter in Hong Kong has so far equaled me walking around in a t-shirt.
These exposed systems look ugly as all hell, but I suppose they also mean not having to break open drywall when you have a problem.
I am fascinated by the relationship that buildings have between interior and exterior space. In cold cities like Toronto we are forced to hermetically seal off our buildings from the elements. We have to worry about thermal bridging and about heat tracing cold spots.
But in a city like Hong Kong I would imagine that the greater concern is stifling heat and humidity. All of this comes through in the built form.
The New York Times ran an interesting piece this past week about the rise and fall of Bleecker Street in the West Village.
The synopsis of the story is as follows:
Bleecker was once a quaint West Village street. Then the yuppy cupcake shop and big brands (Marc Jacobs) came in to cater to the “Black Card-wielding 1-percenters”. But eventually rents got so out of hand that even the big brands started closing up shop. Now the street is filled with empty storefronts.
Here’s an excerpt from the article:
Bleecker Street, Mr. Moss said, is a prime example of high-rent blight, a symptom of late-stage gentrification. “These stores open as billboards for the brand,” he said. “Then they leave because the rents become untenable. Landlords hold out. And you’re left with storefronts that will sit vacant for a year, two years, three years.”
Nobody likes vacant storefronts. But it is a perfect example of the kind of cycles that neighborhoods and cities can and will continue to go through. Understandably though, there is a real concern that New York could be losing its soul. And really that’s a question and challenge for all global cities.
What happened to the New York where the artist Donald Judd was able to buy a five-story cast-iron building in Soho for under $70,000 (1968)? It’s gone.
I was told that systems are commonly run on the outside of buildings here to maximize interior square footage. Again, space is a precious commodity in this city. But it also speaks to not having to worry about freeze-thaw cycles. Winter in Hong Kong has so far equaled me walking around in a t-shirt.
These exposed systems look ugly as all hell, but I suppose they also mean not having to break open drywall when you have a problem.
I am fascinated by the relationship that buildings have between interior and exterior space. In cold cities like Toronto we are forced to hermetically seal off our buildings from the elements. We have to worry about thermal bridging and about heat tracing cold spots.
But in a city like Hong Kong I would imagine that the greater concern is stifling heat and humidity. All of this comes through in the built form.
The New York Times ran an interesting piece this past week about the rise and fall of Bleecker Street in the West Village.
The synopsis of the story is as follows:
Bleecker was once a quaint West Village street. Then the yuppy cupcake shop and big brands (Marc Jacobs) came in to cater to the “Black Card-wielding 1-percenters”. But eventually rents got so out of hand that even the big brands started closing up shop. Now the street is filled with empty storefronts.
Here’s an excerpt from the article:
Bleecker Street, Mr. Moss said, is a prime example of high-rent blight, a symptom of late-stage gentrification. “These stores open as billboards for the brand,” he said. “Then they leave because the rents become untenable. Landlords hold out. And you’re left with storefronts that will sit vacant for a year, two years, three years.”
Nobody likes vacant storefronts. But it is a perfect example of the kind of cycles that neighborhoods and cities can and will continue to go through. Understandably though, there is a real concern that New York could be losing its soul. And really that’s a question and challenge for all global cities.
What happened to the New York where the artist Donald Judd was able to buy a five-story cast-iron building in Soho for under $70,000 (1968)? It’s gone.
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