Tag: architecture

• What they don't teach you in architecture school

  

  When you go to architecture school, you are indoctrinated to appreciate certain projects, buildings, and houses. One of those pieces of architecture, at least for my generation, is the Farnsworth House in Plano, Illinois, by Mies van der Rohe.

  Completed in 1951 for Dr. Edith Farnsworth (a nephrologist), the house is one of the most celebrated midcentury modern houses in the United States. Today, the former weekend retreat is a museum owned by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. (Information on how to visit can be found, here.)

  But what they don’t teach you in architecture school is that the house never really worked all that well as, you know, an actual house. And that the client and architect ended up embroiled in legal battles toward the end of construction.

  This is part of the story that is told in Alex Beam’s new book, Broken Glass, which was recently reviewed by Witold Rybczynski in the Wall Street Journal. Now, Witold isn’t a fan of modern architecture to begin with and so the Farnsworth House never stood a chance:

  Despite the purposeful appearance of his architecture, Mies was not particularly interested in practical matters. The travertine on the terrace weathered badly, and a poorly designed heating system left sooty stains on the windows. The glass walls resulted in spectacular heating bills in the winter and hothouse temperatures in the summer—there were only two small openable windows. Then there was the problem of condensation on the glass in cold weather. “You feel as though you are in a car in the rain with a windshield wiper that doesn’t work,” Farnsworth complained. A film about the genesis of her house, starring Elizabeth Debicki and Ralph Fiennes, is currently in the works. It will be interesting to see if it will show the doctor squeegeeing her foggy windows.

  On his blog, Witold calls Mies an aesthete. Appearance was everything. My personal view is that it’s generally good practice to design houses so that they function properly. But icons are icons and the Farnsworth House is certainly an icon. Maybe we should just call it a prototype.

  Image: Farnsworth House (National Trust for Historic Preservation)

  2020.03.24

• Studio Gang: Architecture

  

  Phaidon — publisher of books on art, design, architecture, food, and fashion — has a new publication coming out this summer called, Studio Gang: Architecture. They are describing it as: “An in-depth exploration of one of the most important, innovative, and creative architecture practices working today.” As most of you know, we are working with Studio Gang on an important project in midtown Toronto. And so we are of course thrilled to see the firm’s work being celebrated. To pre-order a copy of the book, click here. They are supposed to start shipping around mid-May.

  2020.03.21

• Brick vault house

  This house was designed by the Spanish firm, Space Popular. It was completed last year in Santa Barbara, Spain. Two things, in particular, make it unique: (1) Its exposed steel structure (12×12 grid) and (2) its brick vaults. But both of these things really serve one idea. They express the building’s structure. And that’s about all you need for good architecture — one clear idea. All photography by Mariela Apollonio.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  2020.03.18

• School gym turned two-storey 2,700 sf loft in Rotterdam

  I am working from home today, like many of you, I’m sure. The patio door is open and the news is on in the background talking about some sort of nasty bug that’s going around. It’s not half bad, except I prefer working in an office and being around other humans.

  But never mind that, this recent article from the WSJ has me wondering where I can buy a 2,700 square foot loft for €1 and end up with the following renovation for under US$450,000 (photo by Rene de Wit):

  

  A former school in Rotterdam, the city sold off the building as 7 residences. The loft you see here was the gym. Major foundation work was required (costing about US$565,000), but that got split up across all of the buyers/residences and factors into the number I threw around above.

  At 2,700 sf, it’s not your typical urban residence. But it is interesting to see how they designed the space to be suitable for a family. There’s a separate children’s “suite” hidden behind the millwork next to the dining area. Look closely and you’ll be able to see the door.

  For floor plans and more photos, including some before shots, click here. It’s worth seeing more of this place. Two storeys in the city is such a luxury.

  2020.03.13

• Telling a story through spaces

  

  I started watching Parasite on a flight home this past weekend (I know, I’m behind). The first couple of scenes immediately hooked me and so I ended up watching the full movie over the weekend. It’s one of the most creative movies I have seen in a long time. (To be fair, I don’t watch a lot of movies these days.) I won’t spoil it all for you here, but if you haven’t seen it yet, I would highly recommend it. One of the principal themes is social inequality. And it’s interesting to see how that gets told through the spaces within the film. The poor family lives in a “semi-basement” at the end of what appears to be a laneway. And the rich family lives, higher up, in a house designed by a famous architect. Naturally it has a big and perfectly manicured backyard. At one point in the film, you also get to see which housing type is more environmentally resilient.

  I’ll leave it there. But it’s worth checking out if you are into award-winning Korean tragicomedies.

  2020.02.18

• Making federal buildings beautiful again

  

  Here is an interesting topic for debate.

  This week the NY Times reported that a non-profit group called the National Civic Art Society has drafted an executive order that would make classical architecture the default style for all federal buildings in the United States. The draft order is naturally titled: “Making Federal Buildings Beautiful Again.”

  Here is an excerpt from the New York Times:

  “For too long architectural elites and bureaucrats have derided the idea of beauty, blatantly ignored public opinions on style, and have quietly spent taxpayer money constructing ugly, expensive, and inefficient buildings,” Marion Smith, the group’s chairman, wrote in a text message. “This executive order gives voice to the 99 percent — the ordinary American people who do not like what our government has been building.”

  As you can imagine, this proposed order isn’t sitting well with many architects (the real kind who, presumably, hold licenses). Thom Mayne of Morphosis put it well with this quote:

  “We are a society that is linked to openness of thought, to looking forward with optimism and confidence at a world that is always in the process of becoming. Architecture’s obligation is to maintain this forward thinking stance.”

  I think there are many people who would tell you that they prefer classical architecture to modern architecture. And that’s totally fine. I don’t know how many is many, but I am fairly certain it is not 99% of all Americans. (It would be interesting to know the approximate taste split.)

  My strong view is that I don’t see the need to mandate a particular architectural style. Let architecture respond to the world around us. Let urban context guide. Like Mayne, I am also drawn to the future, as opposed to the past — though I certainly appreciate history.

  What is your view?

  As a side note, classical architecture was used pretty much exclusively for federal buildings up until the 1930s. Architecture school taught me that it was initially chosen because it was seen to embody the ideals of the American democracy.

  Photo by Caleb Perez on Unsplash

  2020.02.07

• Tokyo Jewel

  

  I have a fascination with “small” Japanese homes. Many, or perhaps most of them, would be illegal to build in a place like Toronto. This one here in Tokyo, called Jewel, is only 1.4m wide on its narrowest elevation. See above photo. Designed by Apollo Architects & Associates, the ~80m2 home was built on a “flagpole” site. Narrow approach. More site area in the back. Here is a plan of the ground floor (via Dezeen) to give you a better sense of what I’m talking about:

  

  According to Dezeen, the client is a fan of minimal design and, in particular, the work of John Pawson. His work was a source of inspiration for the project. But if you read the article closely, you may notice that he is referred to as the “British architectural designer Pawson.” I learned last week, following this post, that John Pawson is not a licensed architect. Hence the carefully chosen language. I guess there’s hope for those of us who are not architects.

  Photo: Masao Nishikawa

  2020.02.06

• Every building is a prototype

  

  Witold Rybczynski’s recent blog post about architecture’s “curious business model” gets at one of the core challenges of new construction: “Every project is, in effect, a custom job; there are no real economies of scale.” There are also no reoccurring cash flows for the architect, Witold explains, unlike a writer who might earn ongoing royalties or a business owner whose wealth will grow as the business grows.

  There are two items to discuss here: (1) The “curious business model” used in the practice of architecture and (2) the inefficiencies of construction.

  The first one is not unique to architecture. You could say the same thing about the planning and real estate lawyers who also work on new buildings. But I take Witold’s point in that even a painter’s work could appreciate in value after it’s done, whereas there’s typically no mechanism for any of this to accrue (to the architect) in the world of architecture.

  When I was young, I was told that there are two ways to make money. You can either trade your time for money or you can own assets that make you money. An example of the latter might be a farm where the tenant farmer pays you rent every month. You’re not trading your time by actually doing the farming, you just own the asset.

  This may seem obvious, but it’s fundamental. And it’s one of the reasons why, when I was in architecture school, I admired the practices of people like Jonathan Segal out of San Diego. Jonathan is one of the pioneers of the “architect as developer” approach. He simply became his own client and started building his own projects.

  Moving on to topic number two.

  Everyone in the business of building new buildings is looking for repeatable methodologies. Many have thought: How do we make the construction of buildings more like the assembly of cars? How do we create a standardized kit of parts? And that has lead to longstanding efforts around prefabrication. Today, as you know, we are also looking at how 3D printing might make this easier/cheaper.

  In some ways, that is happening. There are examples of prefabrication and panelization, and there are developers who are using this approach. (See H+ME Technology.) But for the most part, we still build on site and it’s still a messy process with lots of waste and inefficiencies. If there was a cheaper and more effective way to do it, the industry would certainly move in that direction. Eventually that will happen.

  In the meantime, we will continue building our prototypes.

  Photo by Ivan Bandura on Unsplash

  2020.01.26

• Canal houses and rental barracks

  Feargus O’Sullivan’s CityLab series on European housing typologies started in London, but has since gone on to cover Berlin’s mid-rise tenements — called Mietskasernen — and Amsterdam’s canal houses. The series is exactly the sort of thing that I like to geek out about. In fact, I can see a book on this topic staring at me from my bookshelf.

  If you end up taking the time to read the articles, you’ll be reminded of a couple of things about the way cities work. One, the way we use buildings changes over time. Two, the kind of architecture we pursue is always a reflection of the socioeconomic milieu at that particular moment in time. And three, the way we perceive buildings also changes over time.

  In the case of Amsterdam’s canal houses, their original function was live/work. They were residences, but they were also warehouses. Amsterdam’s maritime dominance meant that it was more profitable to store things, instead of just house people. (Sometimes as much as half of the house was dedicated to storage.) Trade patterns had moved from the Mediterranean up to the North Atlantic, and that worked out pretty well for the Dutch in the 17th century.

  In the case of Berlin, their typical mid-rise “rental barracks” went from reviled to coveted as the buildings aged, elevators made the penthouses desirable, and people started to appreciate some of their idiosyncrasies. It’s an example of what I was getting at when I spoke to the CBC for this article about Toronto’s skyscraper boom. Some things, including buildings, take time. They need to settle in.

  2020.01.23

• One Thousand Museum, Miami

  Candace Taylor published an article today in the WSJ about the late Zaha Hadid’s One Thousand Museum tower in downtown Miami. The title: “Zaha Hadid’s Miami Tower Is an Architectural Feat. Is It Designed to Sell?”

  It’s an interesting case study, particularly for those of us in the industry. With only 84 units across 62 storeys, it is certainly “ultraluxury.” There’s also a helipad on the roof. Here is an excerpt from the article to give you a sense of the unit sizes:

  Louis Birdman, one of the project’s developers, said prices, which range from just under $5 million to $25 million, are negotiable. Each floor has only one or two units, ranging in size from about 4,600 square feet to 10,400 square feet and each has at least four bedrooms. “Given what’s going on in the market now, I think all of us developers are competing for a similar buyer, so there’s obviously flexibility on price,” he said.

  As you can probably glean from the above, the ultraluxury market has softened in Miami. But Candace is right: One Thousand Museum is an architectural masterpiece. If you’re in the market for a new four bedroom home in downtown Miami, now may be right time.

  2020.01.16